vet con story line
-
zhiway (imported)
- Articles: 0
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Sun Nov 05, 2006 11:33 am
-
Posting Rank
vet con story line
HI, I would love to read any thing about vet con story, men being cut by female soldiers or torture by famale soldiers, I more like the story with men not boys in it, men are more powerful and stronger, it more fun to read they are being torture by some small women, I have read some of story like that, it was good read.
Re: vet con story line
zhiway (imported) wrote: Sun Nov 05, 2006 11:33 am HI, I would love to read any thing about vet con story, men being cut by female soldiers or torture by famale soldiers, I more like the story with men not boys in it, men are more powerful and stronger, it more fun to read they are being torture by some small women, I have read some of story like that, it was good read.
There are quite a few stories of this nature in the archive. Do search around. Anyone able to post any links or titles to such Viet Cong stories?
-
dualballs (imported)
- Articles: 0
- Posts: 115
- Joined: Fri Jan 25, 2002 7:32 am
-
Posting Rank
Re: vet con story line
How about this? A mean, sadistic VC woman. Just the way I like them !!!
In the book "Marine Sniper" by Charles Henderson, He devotes a whole chapter to the Apache Woman, The real life sadistic female VC. The following is an actual torture/castration she performed on a young captured soldier. The author added some dialog for interest as if it needed any more. I think any castration is interesting enough. Just imagine being tied up naked and having an attractive Asian woman approach you with a huge knife, knowing she is going to cut your balls and dick off!!!! Read and enjoy.....
As one of the few U.S. snipers, Carlos faced competition from Viet Cong snipers, who were masters at their art. One of the most feared in his area was a woman, code named "Apache", a fuckin' psycho who, like may female snipers, took special relish in Teaching a Lesson to her foes. Apache enjoyed torturing prisoners within earshot of U.S. bases. -- Across the quarter-mile of rice fields that separated the tree line from the hill, the tormented Marine who had been taken prisoner that afternoon hung naked on a rack made of bamboo. He wore only his boots and the green wool socks that had his name stamped in black ink across the tops. Blood streamed down his cheeks, mixed with tears. The boy, just out of his teens, tried to blink, but the effort only obscured his vision with blood that flooded from where his eyelids had been cut away. He cried and prayed aloud, reacting to the pain each time he strained to blink. The Viet Cong woman had pried off each of his fingernails and was now in the process of bending his fingers backward, snapping them at their middle joints. She had finished with the left and right little fingers and was working her way toward the index fingers, one at a time. Breaking a finger every twenty minutes, she followed a well-planned timetable of torture that covered her prisoner's entire body and would carry the session through the night. At a few minutes before midnight, she had eight fingers to go. The woman and four men from her platoon sat at the Marine's feet, speaking softly in Vietnamese and laughing. The remainder of her platoon lay quietly surrounding her in a maze of sniper hides, ready to ambush anyone who might try to come to rescue the prisoner. The woman chewed betel nut, spitting the juice between her feet as she squatted with her arms resting across the tops of her knees. She looked at the youthful Marine. "You cherry boy? I think maybe no. You get plenty pussy back stateside, yeah. You get Vietnamese pussy too? I think you do. You go China Beach swimming, fuck plenty. "You like get cherry pussy? Plenty American GI like cherry pussy. Rape many young girl-take cherry pussy. True! I know true." She shouted in Vietnamese at the men squatted by her, and they glared at the Marine. The woman walked to where the boy hung limp on the bamboo rack and spit a mouthful of betel nut into his eyes. "You goddamn-fucking GI!" she said... As the fog thickened just before dawn, the Viet Cong woman torturer completed her work on her prisoner. "Goddamn-fucking GI. You no fuck no more," she said, as she approached him with a long, curved knife in her hand. Taking his genitals in her left hand, she jammed the blade's point beneath the base of his penis, grazing his pubic bone. She pulled the knife with a sweeping, circular cut that released both testicles and his penis in one large handful of flesh that gushed with blood. Blood surged from the gaping cavity left between his legs. She knew that this man could not last long, and, quickly cutting away the cords that bound him to the bamboo rack, she said, shaking with laughter, "Run, GI. Maybe you live-you find doctor in time! Run to wire. We watch Marines shoot you fucking ass." The Marine ran, shouting unintelligibly, as blood gushed so rapidly from his body that it left jellylike pools on the compost of decaying leaves that covered the forest floor. And when he emerged from the trees on the far side of a rice field that lay below the observation post where Land and Wilson watched, he began waving his arms, screaming incoherently and sobbing. "The poor bastard's trying to tell us not to shoot," Land said. "Look at him, Gunny. That bitch has emasculated him."
In the book "Marine Sniper" by Charles Henderson, He devotes a whole chapter to the Apache Woman, The real life sadistic female VC. The following is an actual torture/castration she performed on a young captured soldier. The author added some dialog for interest as if it needed any more. I think any castration is interesting enough. Just imagine being tied up naked and having an attractive Asian woman approach you with a huge knife, knowing she is going to cut your balls and dick off!!!! Read and enjoy.....
As one of the few U.S. snipers, Carlos faced competition from Viet Cong snipers, who were masters at their art. One of the most feared in his area was a woman, code named "Apache", a fuckin' psycho who, like may female snipers, took special relish in Teaching a Lesson to her foes. Apache enjoyed torturing prisoners within earshot of U.S. bases. -- Across the quarter-mile of rice fields that separated the tree line from the hill, the tormented Marine who had been taken prisoner that afternoon hung naked on a rack made of bamboo. He wore only his boots and the green wool socks that had his name stamped in black ink across the tops. Blood streamed down his cheeks, mixed with tears. The boy, just out of his teens, tried to blink, but the effort only obscured his vision with blood that flooded from where his eyelids had been cut away. He cried and prayed aloud, reacting to the pain each time he strained to blink. The Viet Cong woman had pried off each of his fingernails and was now in the process of bending his fingers backward, snapping them at their middle joints. She had finished with the left and right little fingers and was working her way toward the index fingers, one at a time. Breaking a finger every twenty minutes, she followed a well-planned timetable of torture that covered her prisoner's entire body and would carry the session through the night. At a few minutes before midnight, she had eight fingers to go. The woman and four men from her platoon sat at the Marine's feet, speaking softly in Vietnamese and laughing. The remainder of her platoon lay quietly surrounding her in a maze of sniper hides, ready to ambush anyone who might try to come to rescue the prisoner. The woman chewed betel nut, spitting the juice between her feet as she squatted with her arms resting across the tops of her knees. She looked at the youthful Marine. "You cherry boy? I think maybe no. You get plenty pussy back stateside, yeah. You get Vietnamese pussy too? I think you do. You go China Beach swimming, fuck plenty. "You like get cherry pussy? Plenty American GI like cherry pussy. Rape many young girl-take cherry pussy. True! I know true." She shouted in Vietnamese at the men squatted by her, and they glared at the Marine. The woman walked to where the boy hung limp on the bamboo rack and spit a mouthful of betel nut into his eyes. "You goddamn-fucking GI!" she said... As the fog thickened just before dawn, the Viet Cong woman torturer completed her work on her prisoner. "Goddamn-fucking GI. You no fuck no more," she said, as she approached him with a long, curved knife in her hand. Taking his genitals in her left hand, she jammed the blade's point beneath the base of his penis, grazing his pubic bone. She pulled the knife with a sweeping, circular cut that released both testicles and his penis in one large handful of flesh that gushed with blood. Blood surged from the gaping cavity left between his legs. She knew that this man could not last long, and, quickly cutting away the cords that bound him to the bamboo rack, she said, shaking with laughter, "Run, GI. Maybe you live-you find doctor in time! Run to wire. We watch Marines shoot you fucking ass." The Marine ran, shouting unintelligibly, as blood gushed so rapidly from his body that it left jellylike pools on the compost of decaying leaves that covered the forest floor. And when he emerged from the trees on the far side of a rice field that lay below the observation post where Land and Wilson watched, he began waving his arms, screaming incoherently and sobbing. "The poor bastard's trying to tell us not to shoot," Land said. "Look at him, Gunny. That bitch has emasculated him."