Note: The following story, although it is inspired from some real events, is entirely fictional and heavily dramatized. It has absolutely no pretense at being an accurate depiction of what happened. It is fiction, a rape fantasy story that centers around the tensions between China and India and that delves into the fantasies of one fine Chinese woman I have the honour to be friends with. I hope you will enjoy this! Don't be shy to rate and leave comments!
The following story is a work of fiction, and as such, none of the events in it actually happened. The author doesn't condone rape or any other forms of violence. This story is meant for adults who understand the difference between fiction and reality.
Temperature Warning: Chinese girls are HOT!
Spice Warning: Indian Men leave a lasting taste.
*** *** ***
Captain Bhavin Chopra was on leave and went to London. One night, near Trafalgar square, he heard distress screams coming from some back alley. He was on his way to meet some friends, but he was alone at that precise time. Undeterred, he went to see what was the matter, all his senses on high alert. What he found was a scene that immensely angered him.
Three men, all of them tall and large with brown skin, and speaking Punjabi, were keeping a British teenage girl against an old red-brick wall and groping her while ignoring her pleas. The poor girl looked very young. She was bitterly crying, sobbing. One of the Pakistani men presently grabbed the girl's shirt and ripped it open, exposing her bra amid the gaping opening of her torn shirt and her open coat, causing her to scream as another man punched her and ordered her to keep quiet and submit to Allah's will.
The men became aware of Bhavin's presence when he was upon them! Bhavin grabbed the first Pakistani thug and lifted him off the ground before ramming him face first directly into a brick wall; the man fell with a thud and much blood flowed out of his head, soon amid a pool of dark gore where he lay motionless.
While the third man kept his hold on the sobbing girl, the second coward pulled out a knife, but Bhavin kicked him on the shin, making the Muslim thug scream with pain. Bhavin then seized his knife-holding wrist and twisted and snapped his arm broken, before smashing his head against the brick wall to silence the piece of shit.
The third and last piece of shit let go of the girl and tried to flee, but the dead-end where he and his friends had cornered the London girl became a deadly trap for the panicking Pakistani, who realized he had to go past that Sikh fighter, who stood a good six feet-two tall and looked even taller thanks to his turban. Bhavin didn't exactly like Muslims; he knew all too well what they were capable of.
The Pakistani rushed and tried to pass to Bhavin's right side; he ran like a rugby player going for the goal line, doing something very British perhaps for the first time in his life, but the Hindu caught him with the strength of a Minotaur; Bhavin trained with heavy sticks every day; his hands and wrists were extremely strong.
The Pakistani was caught, grabbed and lifted off his feet, and his world became one with Allah as his skull cracked upon colliding with the solid British brick wall that was already there when Arthur Conan Doyle publish his Study In Scarlet.
Bhavin told the shaken girl it was all right now. He made her laugh a bit by asking where Baker street was for he had always wanted to meet Sherlock Holmes. He took the taxi with her, paid the fare and saw her home safely. Her parents invited him for a late supper and were glad to have him. British hospitality is there for the virtuous.
Next day in the journal, it was reported that two honest citizens of Pakistani background were found dead near Trafalgar Square, brutally murdered, and the third man was hospitalized in critical condition. Mayor Khan was outraged! Islamophobia ran rampant like a werewolf in London! Islam was a religion of peace. A couple of woke journalists were even more outraged and wrote that these killings were the work of far-right activists who were no-doubt red-haired and white with freckles. Most Londoners had no sympathy for the "poor victims"; to them, whoever did that was a hero.
***
Eastern Ladakh, near Leh.
Captain Bhavin Chopra is back from his leave.
"How was London? Did you meet interesting people?"
"I didn't meet Sherlock Holmes, Colonel Sir, but I did see very interesting people and had a wonderful time with Britons. They're brave fellows who deserve a better government."
"None braver than you and your company! We're going to need you, Captain. The Chinese Army is making another incursion in the region. We need to teach those communists a lesson they won't forget."
"Count me and my boys in, Colonel!"
"And I heard they now allow women in their combat units, Captain. It would be very interesting if we could capture some of those pretty dim-sum faces. Don't you agree, Captain?"
This turn of the conversation took Bhavin a bit off-balance. Yes, he had heard about China now allowing women in the infantry and other combat units, but he had never actually thought of those brave women as target for capture and subsequent humiliation. He found this a bit vile, yet something deep down relished the thought of becoming carnally intimate with a cute Chinese girl. Next time he'd be on leave, he'd date some tourist in New Delh...
"I said it would be VERY INTERESTING if we could get our hands on a few female chinks, Captain, " the Colonel repeated, cutting the flow of Bhavin's thoughts and speaking his rank in a way that implied he could wait a very long time before being promoted.
"Yes, of course, Sir!" Bhavin said before saluting his superior officer and taking his leave.
"Fucking old fart who only thinks with his cock!" he thought as he walked away from the Colonel's office while a uniformed clerk sitting at her desk caught sight of his tall figure. The young Corporal from Kashmir followed his athletic gait with her dark eyes. She smiled and felt a pleasing heat down south. Bhavin! He was so fucking hot!
***
Xue (pronounced Shweh) was already a Major in China's People's Liberation Army (PLA) at only 26 years old. She was the second-in-command and political commissar of a Battalion stationed at the border with India near the Ladakh Region, Kashmir. Being from a rich family with close ties to high officials in the Party had greatly sped up her rate of promotion. Xue had sucked the dicks of the right men. She was now proudly wearing her uniform, ready to inspect her battalion.
They were going on a patriotic mission, an incursion in Kashmir to send a clear message to India; you don't mess with the PLA!
She found the battalion lined up for inspection and walked close to the male Lt. Colonel in command of the unit. She saw Captain Wu Zhong standing at attention in front of her company. All in all, the battalion had 322 soldiers at the moment, in five companies of three platoons each. There were 24 female soldiers and officers among them, showing a clear tendency to americanize the PLA in a process that's been going on for three decades now.
After the parade, Xue spent time with her friend Zhong. Both women had met at the military academy, although Zhong gratuated two years earlier and was 28 years old now and a Captain. The two friends were chilling in the officer's mess and drinking suanmeitang (a plum-flavoured carbonated drink).
Zhong watched her friend as they drank. Xue's dainty mouth greatly appealed to her, and so did the rest of her. Zhong was bisexual with a leaning toward women. She never missed an opportunity to sound heterosexual when she was in public.
"If we capture some handsome Indian men, can we play a little with them? I've never tasted Indian cocks, " Zhong said low and leaning close to her friend, and taking the opportunity to contemplate Xue's unique features.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! I'll speak to the Colonel about this. I'm sure that can be arranged. The old creep will say yes, under the condition he can watch!"
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! You haven't changed, Xue, except for your quick promotions, but you're still the same naughty Xue I met eight years ago. Well, there's an old proverb saying that in Ladakh, everything you wish for will come true."
TO BE CONT'D,