[M4F] Imperial Officer, Rebel Whore

I love the smell of cordite in the morning.

But I hated everything else about this godforsaken armpit of the world though.

It had been over a year since the armies of Orachria had swept out of our mountain kingdom across the neighboring lowlands to the south. The war had been over in a matter of weeks—despite the larger size of the Lowland kingdoms, our superior artillery, air support, and fighting spirit meant victory was assured.

That was about the last good news we’d received. Remnants of the lowland armies, as well as overeager local volunteers, melted into the jungles to fight a guerilla war, which had stretched on interminably.

And of course, I was there. Since my family was out of favor with the King, I got to lead small units in the stinking jungle fighting insane rebels, while other young noblemen my age were administering the new conquests and becoming rich off the sale of mines, farms, and factories to the corporate syndicates.

I tried to put that all out of my mind as we moved through the jungle. My platoon had had some recent counter-insurgency successes, and located one of the more-organized and deadly guerrilla cells operating in our region—this morning, we’d executed a textbook dawn raid, killing over 30 of the rebels and sending the remnants scattering.

While the rest of my platoon engaged in mop-up duties and secure the village for firing, my personal guard went after the largest fleeing contingent, pinning them into the largest hut. We stacked up, and I gave my Sergeant the signal to breach.

The fight was barely worth speaking of; the tired, wounded insurgents could barely squeeze off shots, and we mowed them down with precision—another 8 to the count. The men were checking the bodies and clearing the last of the rooms when I heard my Sergeant yell. “Got a live one, Cap!”

I quickly moved to the room with my sidearm out, where my Sergeant had his rifle pointed at—a woman. Tall, with the bronze skin and black hair that defined the natives here. Strikingly pretty, actually, if you ignored the grime, filth, and malnourishment of months of living on the run in a jungle.

“Huh.” I snorted. “Haven’t seen a woman out here in weeks. They must be scraping the barrel.” I chuckled, holstering my gun. “Still, we’re not on a goodwill mission.”

“Shoot her.”

“Wait!” Her voice cut through in accented by otherwise perfect Orachrian. I glanced at the Sergeant and raised an eyebrow, holding up a hand and looking back at her.

“…I’ll fuck you.”

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Hello all! Have a new idea, maybe a bit cliche—a captured rebel and an officer from the invading power who takes her prisoner!

I’d definitely want to do some brainstorming and worldbuilding beforehand—I have some broad ideas for the prompt, but there’s plenty of directions we can take this, and I’d like to hash it out beforehand. I definitely want this to be a very plot-heavy idea, with a fairly developed world, that both of our characters engage with in their own way, and which informs their relationship.

Anyway, if this sounds like fun, and especially if you have ideas of your own, shoot me a message, and I'd love to hammer out the details and make this happen!

Hope to hear from you!