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Powerful Men: Four Scorching Stories of Alpha-Males Who Take Control

Page 5

by Carla Kane


  Jenny lifted her head from the bed. ‘You want me to go?’

  The prince smiled that same knowing secret smile. ‘No,’ he said, ‘in fact I want you to stay here for the rest of the journey. You are exactly what I need to clear my head in these trying times…’

  ‘And if I say no?’ Jenny smiled coyly.

  ‘You won’t,’ the prince replied and picked up his pants. ‘Now please – I must go. When I return we will finish our interview more comprehensively… Though perhaps it will not be suitable for publication after all…’

  As Jenny watched his tight toned ass walk back out into the other room, she smiled. Writing a good article was the last thing on her mind now.

  # # #

  General Stern

  Discipline in the Afghan Prison Camp

  Paula Murphy was at the end of her tether. The arrogant soldiers from the camp across town had caused her plenty frustration already, but when the rogue football smashed through the window of the Afghanistan Red Cross medical center where she worked, she decided that enough was enough. Somebody was going to get a piece of her mind.

  Paula had been in-country for seven months and had really grown as a person during that time. She’d lived a fairly sheltered life back home, raised in the fresh and breezy panoramas of rural Maine by Christian parents with liberal leanings. Nothing had prepared her for the heat and desolation of Afghanistan, the desperation of the people. But then, that was exactly why she’d volunteered in the first place. And yes, maybe it was a lot harder in reality than she’d imagined it would be, but she did not regret her decision to come there one bit. Even if she still couldn’t wait to go home again.

  Not far from the medical center, the US army had a base of their own – a prison camp for suspected terrorists and insurgents. From day one, Paula had been unhappy with their proximity to the base. As far as she was concerned, she was there to heal and the idea that less than five miles away her fellow countrymen and women were settling simply to imprison infuriated her. And the fact that the off-duty soldiers chose the waste-lands behind the medical center to repose and play sports in their free time only irked her temper even more.

  She didn’t care how handsome they were – how sexy even – stripped down to their bare chests and camouflage pants as they threw passes and made plays in the sand, the sweat glistening on their rippling abs and succulent chests. No, Paula did not approve and she made sure that the boys knew it when they waved and catcalled at her on their way past. And, no matter what happened, she would absolutely refuse to allow herself to enjoy the sight of their perfectly-toned asses as they jostled in the desert.

  So when the football crashed through the window, spraying smashed glass all over the floor of her clean hospital ward, Paula decided she’d had enough. She called over an orderly and asked her to clean up the mess – she was going up to the prison camp, to register a complaint with the head of the chain of command.

  Paula knew she was pretty – with her shiny black hair and pale skin, her soft blue eyes like the sky in springtime – but it was a fact to which she was largely indifferent all the same. She preferred to be judged on the merits of her personality and accomplishments. In fact she greatly disliked it when men complimented her on her looks, since the kind of man who sees no further than the flesh was not the kind of man she cared much to know.

  She opened the door of her busted-up Volkswagen Beetle – which she’d picked up for a pittance upon arriving in the country – and set off along the dusty desert road towards the US prison camp. Less than ten minutes later she was there, approaching the huge wire-meshed fencing that surrounded the nondescript white concrete complex. She drove up to the gates and rolled down her window.

  Inside the booth the soldier stared at her for a moment in surprise, as though wondering just how exactly a pretty young nurse from Maine in a beat-up Volkswagen had ended up at the gates of an army prison camp in the Middle East. A part of Paula was wondering the same thing herself.

  ‘Uh ma’am,’ the soldier said, ‘what is the nature of your visit?’

  ‘I want to see your superior.’

  ‘You do know this is a highly-classified US Army compound, right?’ the solider asked, a smile of incredulity on his lips. ‘Were you invited at least?’

  ‘No,’ Paula said firmly, ‘I was not. Now let me in, I want to see your superior to register a complaint…’

  The soldier laughed for a second and then his smile faltered with uncertainty. ‘I can’t just let you in because you told me you want to complain…’

  ‘Why not?’ Paula demanded.

  ‘Because I’d get in deep shit with my superiors, that’s why,’ the soldier said.

  Paula folded her arms and sighed. She wasn’t giving up that easy. ‘Well call them then.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Call your superiors,’ she repeated, ‘tell them Paula Murphy from the Red Cross medical center is here to make a complaint about the soldiers horse-playing outside our building…’

  The soldier sighed. ‘Fine,’ he said, ‘whatever,’ and picked up a phone. ‘Uh hello, General? Private Bradley here, there’s a… young woman here from the Red Cross place, says she wants to make a complaint about soldiers hanging around her clinic…’

  ‘They broke a window not fifteen minutes ago,’ Paula called.

  ‘Ok,’ the soldier said to his superior, ‘I’ll send her on through…’ He hung up the phone and nodded to Paula. ‘You’re clear,’ he said, ‘park your car in one of the spaces over by that door and then head inside to the reception area. You must not under any condition stray anywhere else around the base – if you do, lethal force may be used against you. You’ve been warned.’

  ‘Fine,’ Paula smiled triumphantly and drove through the opening gates.

  She pulled up by the main-doors to the base and turned off the ignition. She stepped out and walked to the double doors that seemed to be the only irregularity in the otherwise completely plain white concrete building. There didn’t seem to be anybody else on the huge sprawling parking lot.

  Inside, the reception area was cool and dim with unpainted walls and basic seating. Paula walked to the desk and nodded to the bored-looking soldier who sat there.

  ‘Paula Murphy?’ he asked, standing up from his chair, ‘I’ll escort you to the General Stern’s booth. This way please…’

  He stepped out from behind his desk and used a key-card to unlock a large metal door. The portal swung open and he ushered her inside.

  The corridor was damp and grey and a strange smell hung in the air. Paula shivered as she followed the soldier down the hallway. Somewhere in the distance she thought she heard someone shout out in anger or pain.

  The soldier led her to a nondescript wooden door and held it open for her. The room inside appeared to be some kind of interrogation room, with a plain gray table and a couple of chairs. In the corner of the ceiling there was a security camera. Besides that, the room was bare.

  ‘Wait here,’ The soldier said, ‘General Stern will be with you soon…’

  Doing her best to hide her discomfort, Paula nodded curtly to the young soldier and stepped into the room. The door closed behind her and she sat down by the table. Ok Paula, she told herself, be cool. Soon enough the boss of this camp is going to walk in that door and you better remember exactly why you’re here. You probably won’t get a chance like this again.

  She looked up at the camera and considered the small red light that blinked on its surface. She wondered if anybody was watching her? Probably some asshole soldier-boy jeering and making fun. God she hated them so much…

  On the side of the wall something caught her eye. There were two rusty iron rings, roughly arm’s length apart from each other and a foot or two above head-level. Surely they weren’t for chaining suspects up, were they? But what else could they be? Feeling very uneasy, Paula swallowed heavily and looked back at the camera.

  At that moment the door swung open and the General marched in. Paula
turned on her seat and made to rise but the General held up his hand to stop her.

  ‘General Marvin “Butch” Stern,’ he barked, ‘don’t get up…’

  General Stern was a gruff, handsome man with a weathered face and an athletic body. By the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and the salt-and-pepper coloring of his buzz-cut hair-style Paula placed him in his mid to late forties. He shut the door and strode around to the other side of the table. He sat down, placing a steel briefcase on the surface beside him.

  ‘Now I hear you want to make a complaint about my boys?’

  ‘Uh yes that’s right,’ Paula said, forgetting her train of thought for a moment, despite her early determination.

  The General was gorgeous – not like all those jostling soldiers who seemed only a step above frat-boys and high-school jocks. Here at last, for the first time in months was a true all-American man.

  ‘Well?’ General Stern demanded, ‘let’s have it then…’ His gray eyes and iron brow stared at her intently, unfalteringly, as she tried to regain her composure. Stern by name, Stern by nature.

  ‘I’m an aid-worker with the Red Cross,’ Paula said, ‘the clinic on the way into town from here?’

  ‘So I heard.’

  ‘Well it’s like this General, sir,’ Paula continued, ‘we’ve got our hands full trying to treat the locals, we’re short on staff and supplies, so we really don’t need any more difficulties.’

  The General continued to stare intensely, his face rigid and unemotional.

  ‘For months now your men have been using the wasteland around our clinic as their own personal playing field. They make a lot of noise, they curse, and they even jeer at some of the nurses…’

  General Stern sighed. ‘Listen, uh…’

  ‘Paula.’

  ‘Paula – these fellas don’t have it easy here. They’re under a lot of stress, they’re away from their homes and their families and I have a hard enough time helping them blow off steam without anybody getting seriously hurt, you understand? So when you tell me they’re acting like normal young fellas horsing around, well that sounds like a job well done.’

  ‘Yes,’ Paula mumbled, losing herself again beneath his implacable stare, ‘I understand that – I’m away from home too – but today, sir, they even went so far as to break a window with their football. Thankfully no one was hurt, but if they’d hit another window the results could have been disastrous for one of our patients…’

  ‘We’ll pay for your window,’ the General said, ‘now will that be all?’

  Paula felt a pang of disappointment. Why wasn’t she getting through to him? ‘No General,’ she said, ‘I want you to forbid your men from coming to the land around the clinic.’

  The General stared. When he spoke his voice was a low growl.

  ‘You want me to what?’

  ‘There are miles and miles of desert all around here,’ Paula protested, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the General’s predatory tone, ‘I don’t see why they have to play football right outside our medical center…’

  The General narrowed his eyes. ‘Why you insolent little bitch.’

  Paula blinked. It took a second for her to process the insult and then indignation washed over her. She didn’t care how powerful this jerk was – nobody could get away with talking to her like that. She made to rise from her seat but the General barked her down.

  ‘Stay put!’ he roared, standing up himself and hulking over her across the plain grey table-top.

  Like a deer in headlights, her mind completely blank, Paula froze in her seat and stared up at the menacing brute above her. He stared at her reproachfully for a moment longer and then nodded. ‘That’s right,’ he said, ‘we’ll get this all sorted out…’

  Slowly he walked back to the door. Paula gulped as she heard the iron-lock turn. Oh my God, she thought, what is he going to do to me?

  The General marched to the other end of the room and reached up to the camera. With a grunt he pulled the plug and the red light turned black as the power drained from the machine.

  ‘Ah-heh,’ he smiled, turning back to Paula at the table. He sat down and arched his hands as he looked at her. His smile was cruel and predatory. ‘You do know what this place is,’ he said, ‘right Paula?’

  Breathing heavily Paula stared at the General. ‘Please…’ she whispered.

  General Stern shook his head disapprovingly. ‘Uh-uh,’ he said, ‘I asked you a question girl and one thing about this particular room you should know is that, when people come in here with me and they get asked a question, they learn very quickly to give me the answer I’m looking for…’

  Paula’s throat was dry. She was afraid – shocked at how easily power and control over her own destiny had been robbed from her, but inexplicably she was also turned on. Really turned on.

  ‘Uh, what was the question?’ she asked in a hoarse voice.

  ‘I asked you if you know what we do here at the base?’ the General asked, smiling again.

  ‘It’s a prison camp,’ Paula said, ‘you interrogate terrorist suspects…’

  ‘Sir!’ the General barked, ‘when you’re in this room with me, you’d best learn to call me sir!’

  Paula stared for a moment. This wasn’t right – this situation was impossible. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘I want to go home now…’

  ‘You go home when I say you go home.’

  ‘You can’t keep me here like this.’

  ‘Girl,’ the General said, leaning forward over the table, ‘I’m a General with the United States Marines and this here is my kingdom. I can do whatever I want – and if I think I might have reason to interrogate you then I can keep you here for as long as I please…’

  Paula felt a rush of heat in her loins. To be held here like this; powerless, robbed of all control, it was maddening and – in some way that she’d never felt before – it was also exhilarating, intensely sensual even.

  ‘Hell, I could keep you here forever,’ the General smiled, ‘lock you up in a little cell and keep you here forever. Would you like that girl?’

  ‘N-no sir,’ Paula spluttered.

  ‘Then you best co-operate.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ Paula asked, ‘you want me to accept your men disturbing the ground around my clinic? Fine! It’s not damn fair, but I’ll accept it, you fascist brute!’

  ‘Heh,’ the General smirked, his hard gray eyes sparkling as he looked at her. Slowly he shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, ‘that was enough, but not anymore. You’ve aroused my suspicions and now it’s my duty to give you a full interrogation…’

  A jolt of electricity ran down Paula’s spine. She felt her pussy swell as her juices began to seep out. This was all like some kind of bad dream. A bad dream or a red-hot fantasy.

  The General stood up from his chair and Paula gasped when she saw the huge rock in his khaki pants. He was every bit as turned-on as she was – maybe even more so. So what did that make this? An interrogation? Or just some kind of game?

  ‘You’ve gone all flushed,’ the General said, ‘you know it says in the interrogators’ handbook that that means you’re probably lying to me. Are you lying to me, Paula?’

  Paula shook her head. ‘No,’ she said in a quiet, gentle voice.

  ‘No sir,’ the General growled.

  ‘No sir,’ Paula said, peering up at him with wide eyes. She was starting to enjoy this. Enjoy it a lot.

  Slowly the General drew down the zipper on his pants. ‘You gonna obey me when I give you an order then?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes sir,’ Paula nodded.

  ‘Then get over here and suck my cock.’

  As he said the dirty words, Paula clenched her pussy with desire. She couldn’t believe she was really in this situation. She hadn’t had a lay since leaving the states and now here she was – sitting in an Afghan prison cell with what was probably the sexiest soldier in the entire US army. It was no wonder her panties were already soaking beneath her white nurse’s
uniform dress.

  Slowly she stood up from her chair. General Stern opened the button of his pants and his huge member popped out – pulsating, flushed with blood – the purple head engorged hugely. He pulled his khaki shirt untucked and started undoing the buttons. Paula came towards him.

  ‘Get down on the ground,’ he said.

  Paula kneeled down, her bare knees scraping against the uneven concrete floor and the sting of it sending a surge of heat to her pussy. She could smell his dick now – musty and strong, the almost feral odor of a true-blooded male. She was going to enjoy this.

  General Stern pulled his shirt open, unveiling a wash-board stomach of sun-tanned iron-cast abs. Gasping with pleasure, she leaned forward and opened her mouth over the General’s huge cock.

  ‘Mmmm,’ she groaned as it filled her, the salty heat brushing along her tongue and the head rubbing against the roof of her mouth as it pushed its way forward. His thing was huge and it was at the back of her throat long before she could take the whole thing all the way in. For a second she gagged before pulling back all the way. A strand of cum and saliva dribbled down off her lips as she moved back. ‘Uh,’ she whispered, ‘so fucking hot…’

  The General placed his firm masculine hands on either side of her head and guided her back over his dick. As she took him in her mouth once more, Paula lifted her hands and placed them against his granite stomach. She couldn’t help herself – she had to feel the heat of his body beneath her palms.

  ‘Who told you could touch me!’ the General demanded, snatching her hands off him. Paula squealed, with her mouth still full of dick, as General Stern squeezed her wrists tight between one hand. With his other, he grabbed her by the back of the head and yanked her off his cock. Holding a handful of her hair in his hand he turned her face up towards him. His visage was red and sweaty but his eyes were as firm and hard as ever.

  ‘You’re a bit of a wild card aren’t you?’ he said, ‘I don’t think it’s safe to keep you unrestrained…’

 

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