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In her belly. It took only seconds free rape pic him to reach that point; as he shot into her womb, the Sergeant stared into her open anguished eyes and laughed into her horrified face. Then he mockingly kissed her tear streaked cheek and rolled off her trembling nude body. The man the Sergeant had called Arkan watched the rape with obvious pleasure. He was the leader of this uniformed gang of which the four rapists were a small part. His name was Zelijko.
Aleksico, though he was better known by his nom de guerre, Arkan. Tall, heavy set, and with a full, black beard, he was the perfect image of the mountain hajduk, the traditional folk hero bandit from the centuries long wars with the hated Turkish occupier. But he was no simple mountain man Born a scion of the old Communist elite of Yugoslav, he had been what was then called an "economic criminal", a business suited blackmarketer, successful enough to be able to buy toler.
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Ance under the old Communist regime until he had killed a policeman in a fit of anger. Then, calling himself a political refugee, Arkan had spent the next 3 years in the Serb emigrant communities of western Europe and the United States where he was still wanted for questioning about a rape-murder. Now, calling himself a Defender of Serbia, Arkan was the.
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Terror of northern Bosnia. With the break-up of Yugoslavia, he had returned home to find his special talents in demand. Under the patronage of the secret police chief in Belgrade, he had been encouraged to form a private army. Using his criminal connections, Arkan had recruited members of the Serbian underworld to play an important role in Belgrade's war plan. In the ethnic war against the Croats and the Moslem Bosnians, these men were the cutting edge of the effort to terrorize the non-Serbian populations into abandoning their homes. In return for carrying out Belgrade's policy of ethnic cleansing, Arkan was allowed to take whatever he wished from the refugees. Cars, money, TV's, VCR's, jewelry, household appliances, kitchen sinks, even coppe.
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R wiring were all carted away by his men to be sold in Belgrade or smuggled out of the country. Arkan's share of the loot had already made free rape pic one of the richest men in Serbia. He and his men also took women, both for their own pleasure and as a calculated method of terrorizing their traditional Moslem and Croat enemies. In the Balkans, rape was a weapon of war; it was a weapon for which Arkan had a particular passion. It was a passion which Arkan enjoyed indul.
Ging both personally and vicariously. At the moment he was content to vicariously enjoy the young Moslem girl's rape. As the now sated Sergeant withdrew, one of the men holding the girl's legs took his place. Arkan watched as this man rutted atop the young short haired girl, covering her slender body with his own bulk as he ground himself against her so that only the girl's fine featured, boyish face was still visible. For now Arkan was content to savor the pain and humiliation on that face from a distance. He would, Arkan knew, have ample op.
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Portunity to inflict his own tortures upon the young girl. For Arkan operated one of the most notorious of the Serbian rape camps in a hotel he had commandeered from its Croatian owner, a rape camp which he kept full of captured Croat and Moslem women even now despite the so called peace accord. The camp and its women were in Arkan's mind the most satisfying of the rewards the war had brough.
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T, better by far than the wealth the war had brought him. For Arkan the war had brought liberation from the shackles of conventional society. He no longer had to hide his passion for rape and mayhem; now he could be proud of it. For like today's rape of this filthy Turski neprijatelj, everything he did, he did for Serbia, as a Serb patriot fulfilling a centuries old mission of vengeance. Arkan was so proud of his deeds that he recorded his trail of blood and tears for posterity. He had as one of his hangers-on a young man who before the war had been studying the cinema. Equipped with a video camera that had once belonged to an overly curious BBC stringer, it was Demrtri's job to record the great things Arkan was doing for his country. It would, Demrtri repeatedly told his leader, make a great movie. At the moment, he was busy filming the girl's rape, moving toward the g.
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