This is my entry for KAW#2. I've kept it pretty short as it is quite brutal and, had it been longer, I don't imagine many would have read it to the end. As it is, I still don't think many will read it to end. However, it was fun to write.

Due to a new limit on story size, this is being posted in 2 parts.

Part 1

THE INVASION

The invasion took the natives totally by surprise. They were a peaceful people, living mainly by farming and killing animals only for food. Their primitive weapons were used only for hunting and were blessed so that the souls of the prey might be offered up to their gods. The idea that they should be used to kill other humans was anathema to them.


The barbarians, intent on pillage, rape and murder, found no resistance in their path and took the utmost pleasure in inflicting the most extreme degradations on those they came across. The men were systematically castrated, their testicles fed to the pigs and dogs, and their ablated penises shoved into the mouths of the future rape victims. Having undergone the ignominy of emasculation, they were then subjected to the most horrendous deaths, their bellies slit open and their innards thrown onto a fire before them. The blood-lust of the savages, however, was still not assuaged and they took tremendous delight in slowly slitting the throats of their dying victims, milking every last ounce of human emotion from the soon-to-be-deceased.


The children were taken aside and casually disposed of, their sobbing droTwned out by the screams of their dying fathers and the wails of their soon-to-be-violated mothers. Attention was now turned to the females who remained. The “women”, for the horde considered the dark-skinned, overweight, large-lipped creatures before them as little more than baboons, had been spared until now for the simple reason that they possessed the genitalia which the sex-starved army had been missing during their long voyage. With few females to go around, priority was given on the basis of rank and age; the younger, inexperienced members of the “rabble”, as their commanders considered them, had to relieve their sexual frustrations by watching others in the act. They did not even have the luxury of following on from their betters, as these took their pleasure from slitting the throats of their victims or plunging their daggers up through the neck, into the brain, the death rattle providing an overpowering sonority to their moment of ecstasy.


With the inhabitants exterminated, the invading army could now turn its attention to the purpose of the expedition. Much as its previous activity had been pleasurable, it had been financed with only one aim in sight. The mud and straw huts contained nothing of value and were burnt but a large edifice in the centre of the village, evidently a place of congregation and worship, revealed artefacts, small, if the truth be told, but corresponding to the object of their desires; they were made of gold.


No trace of any smelting activity was to be found anywhere on the site, which appeared to indicate that the objects had been brought from elsewhere. Speculation arose amongst the leaders of the horde that a centralized workshop, perhaps even a capital city, might exist somewhere in the interior of the country and this became their major goal.


They soon found themselves delving through ever more dense forest, occasionally discovering a clearing in which were built a small number of huts. Their lust for the shiny metal having now supplanted that of a carnal nature, they lost little time in these squalid encampments, slaughtering only those who stood in their way as they requisitioned the desired trinkets. Numerous, therefore, were the inhabitants who escaped and, preceding the pillagers, were able to forewarn others of their impending arrival.


After several days of painfully slow progress, the amassed army finally came across what could be considered a road; it was little more than a dirt track but it stretched into the distance and marks in the dust indicated that some form of wheeled vehicles had passed along it. Scouts were sent on horseback in both directions, while the foot soldiers rested, and word was received shortly that a large city consisting of stone buildings, about two days' march away, had been found.


They reached the first houses in the early evening, just as storm clouds were gathering overhead, and they were glad of the protection they provided. The dwellings all proved to be empty other than for a thick layer of dust on the floor, which seemed to indicate that they had been empty for some considerable time.


As morning dawned, the clouds were found to have been replaced by clear skies. The evaporating rain water produced a thick mist which cleared as the morning progressed but the air remained dank and humid and the invaders suffered from the attentions of blood-sucking flies to an even greater extent than they had in the forest. Their search for the prized metal remained fruitless and, by late afternoon, many were feeling disheartened. The vanguard turned a corner and suddenly stopped, while there was much jostling behind to ascertain what they could have discovered.


A vast, open square stretched out before them, surrounded by large, ornate buildings, but this was the lesser part of their astonishment; the space was occupied by a crowd of women, mingling around, though they were not of the indian breed which the men had encountered up until now. No, these were tall, fair-skinned women just like their own at home. Afraid that they might startle the gathering, the leaders made their way slowly forward but the women continued to circulate as though oblivious to their presence. Such was their amazement at finding these creatures of beauty that the men failed to notice that their ambulation served very little purpose and there was no interaction between them.


As the horde grew closer, the women stopped moving and turned towards them, huge smiles forming on their faces. The men raced forward and each took a woman by the arm, leading them into the surrounding edifices, their lust for the precious metal temporarily overwhelmed by this unexpected development.. As before, a small number of the younger combatants found themselves left alone with their frustrations.


Irwan was one of the commanders, a man in his 40s who had never married and who took his pleasure wherever he could find it. The female made no sound as he pulled her inside a bare room and she stood unmoving while he eyed her over. She really was an ideal specimen of femininity and he marvelled at her beauty. Taking out a small dagger, he slit her dress from top to bottom and threw the fabric to the ground along with the weapon. Stroking her silky fair hair with one hand, he moved the other to her breast; it was well-rounded and firm. He sucked on the nipple for a few seconds but could ill-contain his desire for her and so he gently lowered her naked form to the floor.


Undoing his waistband, he lowered his breeches, his upright member revealing scars from past venereal infections, and he knelt before her, roughly pushing her legs apart, before entering her with a violent thrust. As he continued his humping, he stared into her face, looking for any sign of emotion but she merely smiled back at him. It disconcerted him that she should not struggle or show any hint of discomfort; he liked it when they struggled, as it appealed to his sense of domination, but, he told himself, there was no reason to deny himself his pleasure and his moment of sexual relief arrived. He had sired several bastards during his dealings with sluts and whores during his time at home and he began to imagine the offspring he could produce with this luxurious creature. Her fate would not be that of the dagger at the moment of ecstasy but, rather, he would take her with him when they moved on and enjoy her moments of suffering during childbirth.


A search of the buildings, radiating out from the square, was undertaken but by that evening they all returned empty-handed. The city was proving to be much bigger than any had imagined and they could not understand why they had come across no inhabitants other than the women. Interrogation came to nothing as none of the females spoke a word and simply smiled in return. As one sector of the city was combed, so they moved onto the next one, taking their hostages with them. The days were spent looking for gold and the nights in inflicting sexual abominations on their seemingly willing slaves. The latter were often the subject of discussion during meals and some, growing ever more disillusioned with the lack of reaction they experienced, spoke of reliving the days when they killed their victims at the point of ejaculation but none could actually bring himself to kill such perfect specimens of the female ilk, thereby cutting himself off from any future pleasure.


The intruders moved on, the buildings became more and more impressive and they felt that they were now approaching their goal. The bullion they so desperately sought must be near and they would soon be able to leave this hellhole of a country and return home as rich men.

 

Part 2

Irwan awoke one morning, his back aflame and his face and chest itching. He had had a busy night, waking up several times with a raging erection, only to find that she was lying awake and ready to accept him into her. His penis was now red raw and though she lay beside him, that permanent, almost moronic smile on her face, his discomfort precluded any desire he might have for her.


He put his hand to his brow and scratched a particularly irritating itch, only to feel a sharp pain as his nail seemed to rip through the skin; he gently probed his face and felt what appeared to be blisters all over it. Pulling aside the blanket, he discovered that his chest and stomach were covered, not with blisters, but with red and yellow pustules. He made an effort to rise but had to stop as his head began to spin. His mouth was dry and, crawling over to a wine sack, he tried to quench his thirst but the acidity caused him to retch and vomit on the floor. He tried to pull on his shirt but the pain as it rasped against his skin was too much and so, grabbing hold of his sword, he dragged himself to his feet and slowly made his way outside naked, using the weapon as he would a walking stick to help him on his way.


Outside he discovered a scene of desolation; he was not the only one overcome by the affliction and he witnessed several of his men lying on the ground, their empty bellies unable to supply the material they tried to regurgitate.


With only one thought in mind, the one which had driven them all here, he painfully made his way onwards towards the city centre. After what seemed like an eternity, he found himself before an imposing building, much like a temple, situated on a vast plinth. Making his way up the wide steps, he entered through the colossal doorway. This was much too vast to have been built by man, he told himself, it could only be the work of giants or, perhaps, even the gods themselves. Light streamed in through huge windows set high in the walls and enabled him to see the far wall. There he could just make out what looked like a throne made from stone blocks, apparently occupied by a small figure.


His advance was slow, sound echoing from the walls as the point of the sword hit the stone floor, but eventually he stood before a small, wizened man, deep in contemplation.


“I have been expecting you,” said the man, opening his eyes and studying the naked wretch that leaned on the blade.


“You speak our language?” inquired Irwan.


“Or perhaps you speak ours,” came the enigmatic reply.


“What is this foul pestilence that you have inflicted on me and my men?” he retorted in as loud a voice as he could muster in his depleted state.


“I have inflicted nothing upon you. You have inflicted it upon yourselves.” The voice remained calm and phi1osophical . “It is a deadly plague which ravaged our city many generations ago and led to its abandonment.”


“Where is the gold?” Irwan screamed, totally oblivious to the information he had just received.


“Gold? There is no gold. There are merely a few effigies made from pebbles discovered on the ground but we have none of the substance you call 'gold'. You have embarked on a fool's errand.”


“Fool's errand? I shall teach you about a fool's errand. If you don't tell me where the gold is, I shall kill you!”


“Then so be it,” replied the small man, calmly.”You have no alternative but to kill me.”


“Have you no fear of death?” Irwan croaked. His face was red with rage but his weakened state was now taking its toll and he knew he had to act quickly.


“Why should the dead fear death?” came the reply from the the creature who now seemed less and yet more than a mere mortal.


“Then die!” Irwan pointed his arm at the man's chest and thrust it into his heart. A look of horror came over the invader's face and an unwitnessed scream issued from his gullet as he dropped to the ground into unconsciousness.



Raphael was 19 and one of the younger members of the troop. Witnessing the torment of their elders, the group decided to take matters into their own hands and fulfill their sexual cravings. The young man had taken a particular liking to the woman that commander Irwan had chosen for himself. She embodied everything that he had ever imagined in the perfect female and, having observed the older man drag himself away, made the decision to try his luck. Should the chief return and find him indulging with his chosen one, then he knew that his life would not be worth a fig. However, in view of the condition of the others, it seemed unlikely he would return soon.


Making his way into the house where he knew she could be found, he discovered her lying in bed; she looked up at him and smiled. Pulling away the blanket that covered her, he gasped as he discovered the magnificence of her form. Still a virgin, he felt awkward in female company and he had little idea of how he should proceed with matters. He placed a hand on a breast and, in the absence of any reaction, he clumsily tweaked the nipple. Feeling bolder, he then moved his hand to the pubic triangle, the coarseness of her brush causing him surprise when compared to his own silky growth. Discovery of the labia was to totally disorientate him. He had always imagined that there would just be an orifice but the multiple folds of flesh and the presence of the clitoris confused him. Nonetheless, there would never be a moment like the present and, besides, such was his sexual arousal that his body was shaking and he risked ejaculating before he got his penis anywhere near her vagina.


He tried to remain calm as he removed his clothing, taking deep breaths, but it wasn't easy. Kneeling down before her he moved her legs apart and placed his erection at what he thought might be the way into her; just a few more seconds and his virginity would be gone. Then the gates of Hell opened.


As he looked into her bright, blue eyes, he moved his penis round to find her entrance when everything changed. Gone was the silky, long, blond mane, replaced by a thin, matted clot of black hair characteristic of the native women. The skin, previously fair and soft, was now black and leathery; the blue eyes were replaced by empty sockets and the voluptuous lips were pulled back into a rictus, revealing yellow, rotten teeth.


Raphael pushed himself away in terror, his hands flailing about, brushing his skin in an attempt to to rid himself of some invisible contamination as he crawled away from the obscenity which, only moments before, had been the object of all his desires. As he sat, hunched up in a corner, his gaze was drawn to the mummified corpse until tears in his eyes, thankfully, drew a curtain over the spectacle,; his body trembled uncontrollablv, a whimper the only sound issuing from his mouth, his intellect totally destroyed.



A few days later a band of natives, led by their shamans, made its way into the city. The corpses of the dead invaders were piled up and incinerated to destroy the corruption they embodied. The resulting pile of blackened bones was left in place, principally as a warning to any who might consider emulating them, then, as they were decomposed by the elements, to add to the already existing layers of dust which covered the citadel. The few survivors, now mindless wrecks, were taken away to be cared for by men, as the very sight of a female automatically triggered a violent revulsion inside them.


The venerable ancestors were returned with gratitude to their place of rest, hopefully, never to be called upon ever again.

 

Dark, brutal, and horrifying with a truly shocking twist at the end. It's a damned good story.

 

Had trouble getting into this one due to the darkness of the subject matter but it is still a well thought out story.

 

HHHHHHHMMMMM, Can't say I hate it, can't say I love it, but got to say dayum! Reminds me of the stories I used to read in my old horror comics lol!

 

I'm not sure what to think of it either. The story itself wasn't my thing, but I think you've described it well, which I did like.

 

The good.

A very well written story with your usual flair for words and phrases. I did not see any typos that jumped out and the words flowed easily from point to point. I liked this story as a dark tale and found it engaging.

The bad.

This story deserved a lot more length to make it compelling. It needed a bit of suspense. I could see the end coming long before I got there.

The ugly.

I just put my teddy bear in my bed so I will be able to sleep tonight.

 

A bit too brutal for me - but that's my fault not yours - Martina Cole is my limit of acceptance. Nicely written though.

 

This was a well written and dark story which took me down a path where I had to follow. I was hooked and could not escape until I reached the end. Good job

 

I thoroughly enjoyed this trip into the darkness. You certainly have a knack for storytelling, and your ranged vocabulary was spot-on. I'm thinking that, like my dark White Christmas, your results in voting might not be as plentiful as if this story was presented at a different time of year. As much as you have written, I don't believe that you're doing it for the votes, but rather, this was the story you wanted to tell. I wondered about Raphael, if your choice of that name (known in Christianity as the healer) was deliberate and would point to some aspect of his angelic heritage, but it appears to be more just a random choice. No matter, that was just my mind reaching for something that wasn't there. It might be hard for some to come to grips with my "thoroughly enjoyed" such a harsh tale, but the world, especially that world, is replete with horror. One can enjoy Stephen King, right? Good job, and good luck in the voting.

 

Thank you, Horse and everyone else, for your welcome, constructive comments.

I began writing this the day before KAW was announced and this was my reason for entering. I won't ever again write to gain votes as this generally, though not always, leads to one writing contrary to one's instincts. The day I start to get comments like "this made me so horny" I shall throw myself off a cliff, for the simple reason that a story which makes someone horny is, 99 times out of 100, extremely badly written and crude and has little or no backstory to it. There are very few people, some of whom are on this forum, who can write great sex scenes.

Raphael was picked out of the blue. He was supposed to be called Rafael at first but I changed it to get away from the Spanish invasion of South America. Similarly, the plague was originally to have been syphilis, which the Spaniards brought back to Europe, but I had no idea how long the incubation period or life expectancy would have been at the time, so settled for an unnamed plague.

Next up is a long-time project which I announced nearly 4 years ago and which will be a multi chapter saga.

 

I like this story because we were once a commonwealth of Spain for a century, so I could relate . I felt like in was reading back the history books in grade school only that this one was into " real detail " of what has happened during the invasion when the Spanish conquistadors did when they set foot on an island of the Visayan region of the Philippines. We were in harmony with the trading Chinese, Malays, Indo's despite we have different religions, it is only when Spaniards came and introduced our natives to Christianity , their culture and proclaimed that we are now their rule that things changed.

Anyways, WH, thanks for that story

 

Very well told. A story about conquest needs to be dark to be realistic. It was enjoyable to see a foreign plague take down the would be conquerors instead of the conquered, and what a clever way the natives found to spread it.

 

Oh My. I am at a loss as to what to say. It was horrifying and brutish, but then invasion and conquest by their nature are. I have always had difficulty writing dark themed material. I must commend you for being able to write this story.

The story is well written and with no errors that distracted me from the impact of it. I found the "solution" to the invasion interesting

Well done and the best of luck in the voting.

 

If I had to describe this story in one word, I would say it was gripping. Gripping to the point where it grabs you by the balls and squeezes until you're finished reading. Yes, it was dark and brutal and I'm so glad you wrote it. It was stimulating and is not a story that will be easily forgotten. This could easily be turned into a novel. So good, Hector - really good.

 

A dark story with a twist helped to balance our reading in this period and made us think. Thank you, Hector.

 

This is a very dark and brutal story. I didn't read it in much detail, more skipped through it as I found it quite hard-going, not because of the writing, but simply that I didn't like the subject matter much.

It is very well written though, cleverly thought out - I found myself initially wondering if it was the Spanish Conquistadors, but it was a good twist that the story did not specify who the invaders actually were.

Not really my type of story, but well done Hec, a little pat on the back from me for a job well done.

 

Janey said pretty much everything I had to say along with Horse's comment to be wary since dark stories get shafted when voting happens. I don't like dark stories I don't vote for them, preferring to vote for a story I enjoy even if I can recognize the quality of writing on the dark ones.

 

an invasive bump for you you depraved Scotsman you.