ALBANIAN GIRL GETTING FUCKED

The sun was just beginning to set over the rugged Albanian hills, casting an orange glow across the verdant landscape. A young Albanian girl, no more than 18, had been sent to retrieve the family’s goats as day turned to night. As she made her way through the rough terrain, a strange two-vehicle convoy rumbled to a halt beside her.

Baffled, she approached the window of the vehicle at the front of the convoy. Inside, the driver lecherously grinned at her. “There’s a new rite of passage for Albanian girls now,” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. “We’re from the government. Hop in the back of that jeep there and spread those legs of yours. Time to show us what a good Albanian girl you are.”

The girl’s mind raced. This seemed so wrong, so inappropriate. But the driver’s demeanor made it clear this wasn’t a request. It was an order, and this was a rite of passage in this strange new era, just as her grandmother had done before her. With a heavy breath, she walked over to the waiting jeep, unaware that hidden cameras would be filming every sordid detail.

Inside the jeep, the cast of characters awaiting her was a motley crew. Three men, each as lecherous and lewd as the last, with panting grins and wandering hands. And there, on the bare metal floor, awaited the horrible contraption of fate – a worn leather saddle. Mooning above it, a shaky spotlight. She’d read in school of the old US soldiers and their strange ways. She prayed this too wouldn’t be as bad as the stories she’d heard.

With a shaking hand, the girl slipped her hand under her skirt and down her panties. Her finger’s probe emerged glistening. One of the men reached out with a drooling tongue and lapped it clean as if serving as her fidelity tester. “She’s ready,” the man croaked as he drew back, leaving fresh shame upon her fingers.

The girl braced herself across the saddle, her legs dangling in the open jeep. She craned her head back, the spotlight’s glare obscuring any distractions from the Albanian terrain she loved. Her short skirt was no barrier now as one man began to prod her bare cheeks with the metal end of the saddle, shifting her position to his lechery. He spat on his fingers and she felt his probing digits pave a slick trail up her backside.

Bracing the girl’s hips, the other two men took position. Their erections, already drawn from their predatory instincts and swollen with Albanian lust, pressed against her thighs. They poked around shamelessly, as if aligning their members with hidden marks meant only for them.

In unison, as if on some lewd queue, they plunged their members to the hilt, forcing a scream from deep within her throat that no one would hear. The men began to plunge at paces. One, two, go. Faster, faster… faster! The girl could only whimper and pray that her innocent soul could take this devilish, inhuman, drilling. Oh, the stench.-americans’ sour, spicy, sickening odor.

The men grunted and ground their hips, jerking and gasping, as if racing to a climax only they could understand. Their groans and gasps rose in pitch as the tempo increased. No more soft plinks. This was pound-pound-pound-until-breakage. And then, released, they pulled away, panting.

The last man approached, a lecherous grin on his face. His hand reached underneath the saddle to cup the poor girl’s rump. Her cheeks, tender and raw, felt the sting as if his hand bore sarcasm of its own accord. Unbeknownst to her, lights winked and recorded each tender, red slap, each flinch of hers recorded as if she were merely an animal to be abused.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out! The girl jumped, stifling a shriek. “At ease, girl.” revealed the voice of a rebel discharging his gun in the direction of the convoy. He wasted no time and approached the jeep with lusty eyes. With his modesty still intact, these men were all but envious! Lingering saliva dripped from his flaccid, greasy-looking length. He withdrew his weapon, not to harm the girl… but to plant it inside her. To make it squelch, to cause her throat to quive, and to show her that this too was to be a rite of manhood.

And then finally, they were through with her. She returned to her goats, bruised and bloody, the girl with a story to tell – of the day she was fucked and deflowered to mark her womanhood. The night of her initiation…thanks to the benevolence of her government.