Rape in Morocco

The last thing I remember was sitting in a bar in Morocco with two comrades in arms.
We were in the Marines.
We had drunk some beers and looked at the local beauties.
I had noticed out of our sight some men were watching me, as well as my classmates, but the boys told me not to worry.
But I was, as the commander had warned us that the sight of Uniformed Americans would not make us popular with locals.
Now here I am, waking up and not recognizing where I was or…



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Dreamer, Speaker, Doer — Writer of erotic short stories.