"Look bitch, make one fucking sound and I'm gonna hurt you real bad. Do you understand?"Ashley realized that this man had total control over her every...movement. If she didn't do what he said, she was sure that he would hurt her. She knew she could end up laying on the floor like her husband, or maybe something even worse would happen to her. She stopped struggling and stopped trying to make a sound.The tormentor in charge looked at her in the grasp of his henchman and said, "We're gonna go. The first were the kind that knew in a lot of ways they had it made. We were outnumbered 50 to 1 or more by the male soldiers. They could pick a different date every night, screw whoever took them out and have wild times as long as they could make morning formations. Most of them ended up pregnant and married to other soldiers. I had already been down a similar road. I certainly enjoyed sex, but I didn't want to be thought of as one of the "20 dollar WAC's".The second kind kept to themselves.. She would be sitting in a bar on the village square, probably dressed classily in a floaty, summer slip, sipping wine and smoking cigarettes. Almost certainly a smattering of the local wide-boys with their camp mopeds and expressions of youthful optimism would already be circling like vultures, shouting provocative comments in her direction, trying to impress her by popping wheelies on their pathetic steeds, dreaming of the moment when they would find themselves nuzzling into her breasts,. She glanced over to see a young man, his face placid, looking ahead. He said nothing, but in this situation, nothing was required. They ran together in companionable silence, their breath hissing in and out of their lungs.Something made her lean forward just a fraction more, which required her to lengthen her stride to compensate, and she pulled ahead of her impromptu running partner fractionally.He caught up within seconds, and matched her stride. He obviously wanted to run with her, despite.