This is a fanfiction story inspired by “Think of England” by PepperF (can be found on ArchiveofOurOwn!). It can be read as a sequel to her story… or it can be read as a standalone.

WARNING!!! M-RATING!!! Same warnings as in PepperF’s fanfiction… This is not happy, fluffy sex. And although there are some emotional undercurrents this is also not romantic. Nothing too explicit, but awkward sex and mildly dubious consent! Also, this story may include some trigger to rape/non-con, since it mildly touches on the issue of orgasming during rape. This is NOT a rape story… but there is one paragraph in there, which, as my beta Channach pointed out, might disturb people or work as a trigger. So be warned!!!

Rating: R/NC-17

Dark sex, awkward sex. Possible (mildly) dubious consent. Possible rape trigger!

This story was nominated in the 2014 Sam/Jack Multimedia Awards:

Sam/Jack Multimedia Awards 2014 - Nominee
Kimberley Jackson - 2015_Award_NominationsV1a-blue

in the category Mature

Find out more about the Sam and Jack Multimedia Awards.


The only thing revealing that the little moan of pleasure had not just been uttered in her mind was the fact that he suddenly stopped moving.

“You okay?” His voice sounded strained against her neck, and her eyes shot open.

“Um… Yes, Sir…”

He still wasn’t moving again and it was then that she knew that the reason for her moan dawned on him. It wasn’t a big deal, she told herself in a fierce attempt to fight against the embarrassment that she began to feel inside. She shouldn’t be enjoying this. It was mere survival until they found a way to escape. She most certainly did not enjoy being treated like a brood mare, and forced to have sex with her commanding officer in a semi-public place.

It had been five days… Five days of forced sex with him that had been awkward at best. There was nothing romantic to it. Nothing even remotely pleasurable. He made sure to finish as quickly as possible and she simply endured. It would have been wrong to claim that she completely despised the act – or despised him for it. It could have been worse… but it could have also been a lot better. Maybe she had been dwelling on the ‘better’-part for too long during the previous days.

The pleasurable tingle she was feeling was definitely not in the realms of ‘it could have been worse’ anymore. It was a physical reaction, she started to reason. Just a natural physical reaction. Cause and effect. Women even could feel something akin to physical pleasure if they were raped – so certainly the female body was capable of reacting to stimulation in less objectionable circumstances. Admittedly, none of them had chosen to do this – but she would never go so far as to declare it rape. Not with him…

He started to move again, his hand shifting ever so slightly to touch strands of her hair as she lay beneath him on the filthy mattress in the most private corner than the cell had to offer. Neither of them was keen on spectators… and the dim twilight of the shadowy corner at least provided them with an illusion of privacy.

She caught her lower lip in between her teeth. She didn’t even realize how one of her hands moved from the small of his back to his neck, her fingers brushing through the short unruly hair that they found there.

They had fallen into that routine where she helped him get it over with as quickly as possible, which usually led to him finishing the instant that her body began to respond to the stimulation, leaving her behind mildly turned on and somewhat frustrated. Of course she denied feeling anything akin to pleasure, because she knew she couldn’t… knew she shouldn’t…

And still…

The little hitch in her breath gave her away, when he moved against her hard.

“Sorry…” Her voice sounded desperate, and her eyes filled with tears. Her body shouldn’t respond to this… she shouldn’t…

Another thrust… another soft gasp from her…

She fisted her hand against his neck in a desperate attempt to control herself, to not give him or anybody else the impression that she was enjoying this.

“It’s okay.” His hot, damp breath puffed against her skin, and she could hear the strain in his deep voice. “It’s okay…”

His consent was ambiguous, and she didn’t know whether it was wishful thinking to believe that he was telling her that momentary pleasure was acceptable. His moves changed ever so slightly, slowing down, seemingly becoming more aware of her reactions.

Eyes, which she hadn’t even been aware of closing shot open when his fingers buried in her hair – the only touch he allowed himself, and probably nothing she could hold against him, seeing that her fingers had long moved from his neck to hold his head against her.

She was still debating with herself about how unacceptable her physical reaction was and whether he would respect her less if she gave in to it, when waves of tingly pleasure suddenly rolled over her. She felt her own muscles contract uncontrollably for a moment, and turned her face against his temple to muffle a soft little sob of shame.

And then he moved against her hard and fast as he was coming inside of her. Usually he was quiet and discreet about it. All the more surprising was it when she heard him groan lowly, the sound reverberating against the skin of her neck.

By the time he stilled, she closed her eyes. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Oh yes, it could definitely be worse…

When he lifted his head to climb off her, she opened her eyes and for just a moment, he lingered, his face so close against hers that she could feel their breaths mingle. His eyes dropped to her lips and he inched imperceptibly closer. She held her breath.

Then his thumb brushed over her cheek ever so tenderly. “It’s okay…” His voice was deep and low. “Just for survival…”

The next moment he was gone, giving them both privacy to rearrange themselves. It took a moment until she was able to get up, her mind still preoccupied by what had just transpired between them.

Only for survival…

– The End

Click to read Jack’s POV of the story.

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Afterword: I know this is different from what I usually write, but the story just popped into my head after Channach showed me “Think of England”. She kept telling me how much she wanted to read a sequel, so I wrote one for her. It was hard to do – to capture the awkwardness of a sexual encounter. But it was a challenge…

There will possibly be a second part to this story at some point in the future. It won’t be a sequel, but it will be a story from Jack’s POV.