This initial chapter might be offensive; contains a rape scene.
The house was still little more than the old, disused ice factory that it had been before G-Unit moved in a mere sixteen months ago. The factory was being rebuilt as head office remembered and compared to the seven other Unit’s abodes it was an urban warfare nightmare. Civ’s chunky oak bed head was framed by a half destroyed concrete wall with no door and an oversized opening. The furniture was out of place within the environment; matched by the bright fluorescent orange bed spread where Civ languished in starfish formation.
Giffen felt the decision that had plagued him wrest away from the well-developed sense of justice that had landed him his job G-Unit; it flew up and away from this sense of right. He knew what his choice meant but the torturous back and forth had kept his somnolence raging for the last three days. His desire had almost cost Harper his life tonight. Sleepy reactions had resulted in a ‘nick of time’ save instead of what shouldn’t have been a problem. The room was dimly lit by day light pushing at the roller shuttered windows, so Giffen used what light he could get to move soundlessly further into the room; closer to Civ’s resting body. The dim light showed the scar across Civ’s stomach, her t-shirt having ridden up her flat stomach. The scar was a grotesque zigzag over perfect; sun-tanned skin. The scar was from where a child was ripped from her efficient, taut yet curvaceous body, something that as their unit’s medic he had been required to patch back together until a human doctor could be sought. It had been the first time that Giffen had touched her body, that night an OtherWorlder had found her one weak spot and had clawed it from her. Humans were so warm compared to OtherWorlders, obviously their sexes were created differently but compared to OtherWorlders they were soft and rounded in good ways. OtherWorlder females were built the same as OtherWorld males, except internally, they were all lean rangy or muscular- built for survival in a warfare environment.
Civ adjusted her slumbering position; the new position brought one knee up and exposed her thinly clad core. The summer time heat and the natural raise in body temperature had caused sweat to gleam against her soft thighs and had moistened the inner parts of her. This unconscious move placed Giffen’s desire from simply looking and remembering; the unguarded glances or quick toss of a dark brown strand of hair which would invade his dreams with torrid lust on almost a nightly occurrence; to acting on the need his body required to perpetrate. Simply looking at her body had made him hard, but now withdrew his cock from the draw-string pyjama pants and stood looking and stroking, imagining, desiring.
A coughing interrupted the snores from the bunk room at the other end of the warehouse. Giffen stopped moving and gained stillness as he’d been taught by his father many, many moons ago. If any of the others learned of his location, or the simple fact he was out of bed then they would come looking. So Giffen pulled what darkness was available around him and became the stillness that he invoked. The cough was from Groman who had picked up a common cold from whichever boy-toy he’d picked up three nights ago on leave. After fifteen minutes there without issue Giffen decloaked and looked back to Civ.
She’d shuffled in the disturbance and now lay on her front with her arms thrown over her head. Giffen had a moment of regret; a moment when he wished that she wanted him as much as he wanted her it would make things so much easier. Giffen looked to the hallway and to the bag of his stuff that he’d managed to gather. All his fighting paraphernalia was there, as well as a couple of changes of clothes, this would have to do until he found a rogue witch who could open a portal for him to return to his world. His life had been reduced to a military duffle bag; he was easily expendable in the fight of the portals. Just another soldier sent to do the job of the lazy fat cats who had perpetrated the situation initially.
Rage spiked adrenalin into his body as he thought about the situation that executive morons had gotten him and all the people of earth into. He stalked over to the other side of the room, the adrenalin needing him to do something other than stand still, and he came to a stop at pile of discarded clothes. Sitting right on top was a pair of purple lace underwear and Giffen’s disturbance changed, from frustration to a need to control. He picked the underwear up and felt the softness of the material, he rubbed it against his face and could faintly smell Civ’s natural aroma on them. The underwear was a surprise because Civ was such a utilitarian person that the underwear appeared an excessive indulgence. Giffen reached into his pyjama pants again and withdrew his raging boner, he stroked the purple knickers over his ramrod shaft and a tickle of excitement ran up his spine. The soft fabric against his cock was heaven; purple had always been his favourite colour but aside from that his cock was where the seat of her body sat. In all the times that he’d stood in Civ’s door all the sleepless shuffling through the warehouse to stand just inside her private space, he’d never thought about her underwear- the fetish had always been her; dreams of her body twisted under him in delight or pushing off his broad strong chest in ecstasy.
Memories of his desires, of his torturous wants steeled him into action. Giffen stalked over to the bed, he crushed his knees into the soft mattress then moved them over the backs of her knees, effectively pinning her lower body. Sleepily she attempted to move and an eye popped open as Giffen stuffed the purple panties into her mouth. After this he laid his heavier weight on top of her, but she was strong – as required for their job of keeping the OtherWorld’s darker denizens out of this world – and the struggle was as difficult as a human woman could command. But against an OtherWorlder it was mostly ineffectual; especially as Giffen had the element of surprise in his favour.
Her hands and her mouth were the biggest threat and with one nullified, he managed to wrangle her flailing limbs into submission; securing both inked thin wrists with one of his large palms and angling them over her body so that she was stretched tight below him. The other hand tore the thin fabric between her legs and with some deft angling his cock was drowning in her warm, moist hole. Through the underwear she screamed and the noise was just audible. But he knew he’d have to be fast because the kerfuffle could have woken any of the other men in the other part of the warehouse.
So Giffen set to work, feeling the tight confines stroking him and before long the urge to relieve himself overcame anything else that might have been happened on this world or his own and he came to a grunting crescendo as quietly as possible.
By this time Civ was crying and she lay incredibly still under him. It made the next part easier as the knock out punch slammed into the back of her skull. Her body went from still to limp making it easier for his sensitive cock to withdraw from her. He rolled off her, completely satisfied. At that moment dusk broke over their time zone and his feeling of satiation was cut short. Life would soon stumble through the snoring assemblage of his former brothers in arms. Giffen took the purple lacies from Civ’s mouth and stole a kiss from her limp lips. He stood and hid himself inside the pyjama pants, he opened the duffle and stowed his ill-gotten gains and withdrew a pair of black cargos which he drew on over his pyjama pants. He shouldered the duffle then slunk carefully through the warehouse that had been his home for the last sixteen months, not waking a soul.
His get-away smooth and without incident.
His desires fulfilled.
His destiny sealed by a single act.
Eventually Giffen would come against the rest of G-Unit and would be asked to pay for his sin.