Rising Sun

Captain Hidetaka Fujiwara was enjoying himself, he looked over to his right, his men gathered around their makeshift fire place singing songs that extolled the virtues of the Japanese nation and prayed for good help to the Emperor, playing around with a pile of corpses that consisted of various young girls, late members of the Brisbane garrison

Normally the Captain would have chastised this lapse in discipline but for this occasion he'd let it slide. The 17th Army had just successfully taken Brisbane, the ultimate objective of 'Military Operation FS', an Army which included his beloved 6th Infantry Division.

The invasion of Eastern Australia was launched in 1944, and after 3 months they finally now have an established beachhead to bring in more personal for the ongoing conquest of the abandoned British Dominion.

"Fuckers," he heard the soft utterance of a female voice, Fujiwara shifted his attention towards his squirming captive.

Her name was Annabelle Lee, or so her dog tags said, she was a young American woman of white extraction, 18 or 19 if Fujiwara were to bet on her age.

She along with several of her fellows were the last element of resistance that the Captain's unit faced, dug within the center of the city amidst bombed out ruins.

For a soldier she was in remarkably good shape. She had very striking blue eyes, similar to the waters of the many beaches Fujiwara had landed on in his multiple campaigns around the Pacific. Her sandy-blonde hair was cut short and bound in twin pigtails. Her heart shaped face was small and narrow, a cute and dainty button nose with a bandage plastered on the bridge. Her pale skin dotted with multiple freckles and she had a noticeable dimple which was made obvious with her intense scowling.

She wore a plaid blouse in red and blue colors that had been partially undone, exposing hefty cow-like udders that were being held back by a bikini top that had an American flag as its pattern. She wore brown leather gloves which covered her hands and upper arms that had been bound with rope behind her.

She wore denim jeans that covered her lower half, except for the crotch area which had been cut out and exposed a bikini bottom that bore the American flag much like her bikini top. She wore nothing on her feet, bare soles caked in a thin layer of dirt, largely unharmed which was surprising considering the amount of debris and rubble scattered about. A very scandalous uniform, evidence of American moral degradation

"Silence cur," Hidetaka barked out in minimally accented English, a courtesy of his education in a British military academy.

"Suck my dick Jap," she said with vulgar spite, sticking out her pink red tongue.

The Captain narrowed his eyes, furrowing his forehead. He scowled. There was no point in keeping her alive.

She had been a member of the 'Betsy Ross' Volunteer brigade, an American all-female battalion that came to Australia to arrest the progress of Japanese expansion.

America had just concluded a devastating civil war with both communists and fascists, the country had reasserted federal control but its economy and infrastructure were in shambles, it was in no position to participate in the ongoing Great War that was burning the world.

These volunteer battalions consisting of American Civil War veterans and untested but patriotic youths were the only aid that the Americans could afford.

He looked on over back to his men, 1st Lieutenant Toho was holding the head of the American girl's commanding officer. A beautiful negro woman in her mid 20's who Fujiwara had personally decapitated with his ancestral blade. Toho was messing around with it, inserting his erect penis through the severed esophagus, the tip of his spear emerging from the open slack-jawed mouth of the thick lipped niggeress. The men around him laughing and clapping, it was clear they were making a game of who had the lengthiest sword and it appeared Toho had won.

That gave Fujiwara an idea.

He unsheathed his blade, a beautiful katana that was forged during the Sengekou Jidai, far superior in quality to the usual Gunto blade of his peers. It was a blade that was proof of his proud lineage.

The American girl's eyes widened, her earlier bravado melting away into fear. She tried to crawl away, tears escaping her eyes.

"N-No wait! I-I'm sorry! P-Please I'm only a girl for fuck's sake! I'm a POW you fucking Ja-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she unleashed a high pitched scream as the Captain's sword bit into her neck, this caught the attention of his men who remained silent at the ongoing scene.

"AAAAAAACHHHHK," she continued her scream as Fujwara cursed, ashamed as he looked at the writhing body of the American girl.

His cut did not behead her, it was a shallow slice but it did get her in the carotid artery. She was lying on the dirt, body flailing and trashing about. Her blue eyes were wide open in a blind panic, her tongue dancing madly. Her violent seizures were not going to reverse the flow of her blood that was now coalescing in a puddle around her neck wound, it would only worsen it.

Fujiwara wiped the bloodied edge of his sword on his obi, he was disappointed in himself as he stared at the dying girl's death throes. Her long, shapely legs kicking the air, her dirty toes curled and uncurled in horror, her incontinent bladder releasing a stream of piss that seeped from underneath her panties. Her cow breasts, jiggling and sloshing about as her chest erratically heaved and ho'd.

Captain Fujiwara couldn't help but feel aroused by this undignified display. He unclasped the buckle of his belt, his trousers dropping down. Fujiwara's men broke their silence, hollering and cheering at their Captain as he knelt down and grasped the American girl by her quivering hips.

Annabelle's terrorized blue eyes looked at Fujiwara's looming form, the Captain's gloved hands parted away her underwear, exposing a leaky pale pink pussy that had wafts of blond hair above its entrance. Fujiwara's blade might not have had the same dimensions as the 1st lieutenant, but it was not something to laugh at, Annabelle herself could attest to that.

She was crying, crying so hard that snot bubbles were forming under her nostrils. She wanted to scream and shout at him but she was losing her strength.

Fujiwara went at her again, but this time with a different sword and with far more success. He shuddered at the rough entrance of his penis, nostrils flaring as he enriched her with his virile Samurai fluids. It made a world of difference he had thought, raping a malnourished Chinese or Indonesian peasant woman was a far inferior experience to having his cock being pleasured by the deathly orgasms of a well fed and physically active white American girl.

2 thrusts in, and her struggles were weakening, her vigorous protestations had given out, the weeping and distraught Annabelle was now enjoying the last fuck of her life.

5 thrusts in and she was going paler, no more movements on her part, all she could do was open and shut her mouth like a fish out of water.

7 thrusts in and she was gone, exhaling her last breath, her blue eyes glazed over and staring up at heaven. Her tongue drooping to the side, the snot and saliva all over her face drying up. The pool of her blood that was seeping into the soil was dyeing her blonde hair into a dirty brown red. Her entire body covered in drying sweat. Her legs spread far apart, cum and piss intermingling as it leaked between the spaces where her pussy and Fujiwara's cock met. Her ashy feet arched forward, toes curled together like a dead insect. Her bound arms behind her back, fingers no doubt just as curled as her toes, the skin where the rope dug into her flesh turned purple from intense bruising and constriction as she tried to break free of them.

Fujiwara exhaled out, finally realizing the passing on of his American girl, he smiled, even her corpse was pleasurable to experience.

His hands grasped her now exposed breasts, her top undoing itself amidst her struggle. He gave a firm and rough squeeze on her still warm freckled breasts, her pink nipples protruding out as the flesh responded to his grip.

His men were clapping, impressed by the vigorous fucking of their commanding officer.

Fujiwara paused, staring at the now peaceful face of Annabelle Lee, her facial muscles relaxed and deprived of pain now.

Should he finish the job and cut off her head?

No, he decided against it, she would continue to be his bed companion, her body pleasuring his cock while he rooted out her sisters. He'd practice his blade work on the Betsy Ross soldier girls who had escaped destruction, their heads would be the ones he would take.

Cute and adorable Annabelle he would leave in one piece, who knows he might take her back to the home islands, turn her into a family heirloom like his sword, so that future descendants of his bloodline could experience the pleasures of fine American pussy.