“The groomers reports weren’t finished? There’s hardly anything for them to fill out,” the Colonel fumed.
The sentry was obviously worried the Colonel did not believe his excuse. “It’s true, sir. Mark never did complete his, but I laid it on your desk anyway.”
The Colonel stroked his chin for a moment and said, “Get her out of here.”
The sentry walked to the cage, leashed the woman and threatened her with a taser. Sabra stared at the young woman as she followed the man across the room. She was covered in painful welts and gave the Colonel wide berth, stretching the length of the leash as she passed by him.
Shit, there it is. When the Colonel finally turned away from the retreating couple and stared at Sabra, there was a quick tick at the corner of his eye. Does he know? He’s a researcher…the one who developed this curse…but, does he know it’s flawed?
The Colonel walked over to a chest and came back to her holding a long thin rope and some string. He laid them on the table by his chair and knelt behind her to latch her wrists. After they were secured, he sat back down and picked up the string, unraveling and separating the two thin strands.
Sabra watched his hands, in some way fascinated with his attention to making sure they were straight with no knots in them. He laid one on his knee, and fiddled with the other one a moment. When he laid that one down to retrieve the other straightened piece, she saw the small hangman’s noose he had created. He was making the same diminutive tourniquet out of the other one, and it joined the first on the faded fabric of his jeans.
He reached his hands out and began to massage her breasts. After a few minutes of kneeling by the warm fire with the gentle caresses to her mounds, she closed her eyes and let the arousal wash through her as her nipples peaked to tightened erection and her dusky areolas pebbled.
The Colonel’s eyes narrowed, and he smiled as he watched the pink tip of her tongue wet her lips. One hand continued to caress a breast while the other retrieved his prepared torture. Sabra was so lost in passion she did not feel him slip the loop over her nipple and begin to tighten it at the base. The second loop was placed, and when both hands deserted their strokes to tighten the nooses, her eyes slowly opened. The desire in their green depths turned to horror when she saw what he had done.
At this point it did not hurt, other than the pressure from the strings. He stood and picked up the thin line he had laying on the table. After wrapping it around her back and between her bound arms and her body, he crossed it under her breasts, pulling it tight so it dug into the skin under her orbs and then up through the valley separating her mounds. The thin rope was crossed again at the top of her cleavage and then run back under her armpits where it was twisted over her shoulder blades. His strong hands tugged on the rope tightening it painfully, and Sabra watched her distorted swollen breasts as he tied the harness behind her.
The first throbbing was universal between her captured breasts and her nipples, but when he gave the slightest tug to her silver ring she shrieked. He palmed a breast and she groaned in discomfort, causing the sadistic man to smile at her. He rose, leaving her kneeling in the distressing binding, and he poured himself a brandy. Sitting back in the chair, he touched his wrist cuff, and sat back and took a sip of the warm liquid while he watched her.
Sabra felt the vibration begin, and the arousal reached her trapped breasts with excruciating accuracy. Within minutes, her sex was sopping and her tortured breasts were turning red within the constricting halter. The Colonel reached in his pocket and pulled out two lead weighted sinkers, the kind used for fishing, and two paperclips. He threaded the sinkers onto the weights and by twisting the clips he formed hooks.
Sabra shook her head and whimpered when he hooked them onto her silver nipple rings. She gasped, and he delighted at her silent tears, once in a while pinching the very tips of her discolored nipples just to hear her shriek. He was pleased he only had to correct her one time about remaining kneeling and presented for him.
He kept the vibrator at a low setting. The Colonel did not want to distract her from the pain in her chest or he would not be able to enjoy her suffering. When he finally removed the lead sinkers and the nipple nooses, she made an arousing hiss through her clenched teeth and her eyes filled.
Next, he removed the harness and immediately squeezed her swollen meat, enjoying her shuddering and quiet sobs as she fought to remain still. “I believe I am tiring of Jacqueline’s companionship throughout the day. If you complete your next three lessons satisfactorily, I will requisition you out of the stables.”
Sabra quickly rationalized that the brutalized woman she had seen earlier was Jacqueline, and obviously the poor woman responsible for keeping the Colonel’s lust sated during the daytime hours. Sabra glanced at the cage. The girls would have to make their attempt before he could pull her from the stables. The ropes would be lesson four.
The Colonel seemed satisfied with only having his cock sucked to release before he curled into sleep behind her. Sabra spent a long time awake after his first snores as she constructed a plan.
After breakfast, the Colonel called over the sentry Sabra had seen the night before. “When you retrieve Jacqueline this evening, place her in the sentry quarters. You have earned your third woman.”
The sentry smiled, his eyes alternately ticking as he scanned the edges of the room to pass the word on to the sentries in the stable. Sabra’s stomach clenched and she thought she was going to vomit the sticky oatmeal. They would have to run today.
When the girls were let out to ‘dry’ after being groomed, Emmy gave them their first ray of hope. “Did I ever tell you what I did… before?”
Sabra and Betsy shook their heads. “I set up computer networks for large corporations. I found their solar panel yesterday, while we were cruising around. The problem is that if they have a backup generator on the solar system they can still hook it up to find us.”
“That first day in the office I looked at the computer on the Colonel’s desk. He doesn’t have it networked to go anywhere else. I’m betting the arrogant fool has the only program for our little GPS devices on that single unit. If we can manage a one minute distraction, I can fry it. It won’t even sizzle, and they may spend some time waiting for it to boot back on. It would give us some time. I need to get hold of one of the tasers.”
Sabra said, “I can manage the distraction. Betsy, can you grab one of the shockers?”
“As long as you have them arguing, yes, but the rest of it will have to go real fast. The sentries will yell as soon as we take off,” Betsy replied.
Sabra scanned the landscape. “We may have to split up. Head north. If we don’t end up together, we meet at the south boundary sign for Glacier National Park. Whoever gets there first, give one week for the others to show up. After seven days, head towards Canada.”
Betsy and Emmy stared silently at Sabra for a moment. They understood what she was saying. She would keep the men distracted long enough, maybe even run south, knowing the Colonel wanted her, and give them a chance to escape. Sabra saw it in there eyes. “Hey, it will be okay. I can’t believe we’ve made it this far just to be separated.” They still looked unconvinced and Sabra forced a smile and said, “Deal with it.”
Emmy hovered close by the computer power cable while Sabra and Betsy wandered around until they were close to the groomers. Sabra raised her voice and said to Betsy, “So, yeah. I get to be with the Colonel all day and he’s giving Jacqueline to the little boys. She’s pretty wasted, so they ought to be able to handle her. I mean, it’s not like they’d be dealing with a real woman or anything.”
Already the groomers conversations were quieting, and the nervous ticks that were not constantly present were beginning to show in the other young men’s eyes. The girls had noticed Sabra’s groomer seemed to have the macho thing going on more than the others, maybe because he was in charge of the officers’ stable.
Betsy continued, “If I can please the rangers enough, I’m go
ing to ask if I can be requisitioned out to your groomer. It would be nice to have a younger man’s hands on me instead of the decrepit old stuff we’re pawed with.”
“My groomer’s nothing but a kid. The one you should think about is the sentry in charge of our hall. Now, he’s got the looks, but he also has the maturity to know what to do with them,” Sabra coaxed.
Betsy and Sabra could see the fury flying as Sabra’s groomer bowed up with pride while Betsy’s groomer glared at him, and then the other boys smiled sadistically when Sabra discounted him for the hall sentry. The two women walked in a small circle to give the wound time to fester.
By the time they made it back to the young men, there was a full-blown argument just short of yelling and fists. Betsy sidled up to Sabra’s groomer and put her arms around him. “Tell her… hell, tell all of them what a man you are. I can see it.” She reached a hand between his legs, knowing she would find the ever-present hard on. “I can feel it,” she giggled coyly while one hand rubbed his crotch and the other unclipped the taser.
Now, it was Sabra’s turn to get the situation boiling into a throng of souped-up adolescent chemically induced anger. The young men were already so pissed off with each other and the king of the hill crap that they did not notice Betsy slide the taser from one hand to the other as she turned away from them.
“Get the hell away from that kid. What the hell is wrong with you?” Sabra asked, winking at Betsy as she walked by, properly chastised.
Betsy continued to stroll towards Emmy, and Sabra turned to the angered aroused youths and said, “You got yourselves a third woman. You shouldn’t push your luck or the rangers will take her. I mean, a hole is a hole when you just need something to stick your little peckers into, right?”
She was pleased to see a few of the younger men begin to panic and their eyes twitch faster. It was not a hard stretch to believe they were last in line for the two allotted women they had, and the third meant more to them than the others.
“They won’t take her. The rangers got a woman each to requisition out,” the boy stated a little uneasily.
“Not if they want to play games,” Sabra continued. “Suppose one is red listed. The rangers aren’t going to go without if all they have to do is rip a Colonel’s discard away from you kids.”
Sabra’s groomer hissed, “We’re not kids. The Colonel has given us responsible jobs here.”
“The Colonel is allowing you to bathe women for him, his officers and the rangers. Does he even allow you the time to bathe your own two women. Two women, well, I guess that would be right for a handful of kids.” Sabra shook her head in mock sadness. She was forcing herself not to look around at Emmy’s progress.
The youths were getting extremely agitated and angry that a mere woman would think them so lowly. Sabra looked at her groomer and added, “Well, except you. Apparently my friend realized you were their leader, and she’s always had a thing for the head honcho.” Sabra leaned over conspiratorially. “I think she was a little jealous that the Colonel chose me and then put you in charge of my grooming. Of course, he’d only want the best. Last night when I was alone with him, he even suggested he might give Jacqueline to you because of your obvious superiority.”
The only chore the scouts had been given in this new world was grooming, and they considered themselves equals until they could be rangers. The woman was making sense, though. Alvin had always been chosen to care for the officers’ or Colonel’s women. He always made it sound like no big deal, meanwhile he was fucking his friends and setting himself up for his own private pussy.
Sabra had no idea who threw the first punch. She backed up quickly, hoping Emmy had enough time to fry the brains out of the Colonel’s computer. So far, the rangers had not noticed the skirmish between the groomers. She caught her hall sentry looking around the corner of the stable with wide eyes, and she knew he would run to the lodge.
Sabra thought about the bad decision, the extra time it would take, but she picked up the taser that had been ripped from one of the groomer’s belts and chased him. When the current hit his back, she did not know who was more shocked. He fell to the ground, and Sabra ignored him as she stared at the tree line. She caught a brief glimpse of a naked thigh and smiled.
Running back to the commotion, she was relieved to see the groomers still battling and ten frightened women watching them. Sabra yelled at the women and pushed them towards the cliffs. These were level three women, the snapped and least desirable, and she felt guilty when she screamed at them.
“West… run west towards the coast. That’s where we’re going. Just follow the sunset. We’ve shut off the devices,” she kept coaxing. “Run.” Finally, one after another began to move. The further they got away from the fighting, with no tasers or shocking to their sex stopping them, the faster they ran.
Sabra bolted after them, and then cut to the north when she was hidden by the trees. She had already heard the first ranger when she hit the tree line, and she was shaking and pretty sure she would not be able to avoid their dart guns. She climbed.
Sabra sat high in a tree and watched the rangers rush out after the scattering women. She was relieved that none had turned north after Emmy and Betsy. She figured the rangers must have thought all of the women were running together, just as she had planned. She was high up in the tree, reconciling herself to the fact she might get caught. They would not chance a dart, with her this high up. They also would not consider her decision to jump. She would not go back to the Colonel, because she already knew it meant the cage.
They caught some within minutes… some not until morning. The rangers were screaming at them, almost bursting with rage. The few women Sabra could hear wailing as they passed under her, all said the same thing. “The red haired woman told us to follow the setting sun. She told us they would lead us to the coast.”
Sabra watched the settlement, perched on her branch and hiding behind the trees. Around noon, three rangers rode from one of the outbuildings on ATVs. She barely made out their voices over the loud vehicles when they rode by.
“Stupid cunts. They probably think they’re going to make it. We’ll catch up to them on these, and have them groveling at the Colonel’s feet by dinner.”
Sabra sighed in relief and waited another fifteen minutes to make sure no one else was watching from the settlement and that the motorbikes did not backtrack, before she finally climbed down. She was thirsty and starving, and when her feet hit the ground… she ran.
CHAPTER VIII
Summer 2015
Betsy and Emmy stood beside the sign reading ‘Glacier National Park’. They threw their arms around each other’s shoulders like girlfriends on vacation, and Betsy said, “Sabra… take a picture.”
Sabra lifted her hands and pretended to hold an imaginary camera, and she clicked an imaginary picture that only imaginary friends and family would ever see. Montana was beautiful, and so green. She turned to look at the jagged terrain of the Tetons or the Rockies, she was unsure, hovering not too far in the distance. Sabra promised herself to never navigate mountains again.
Emmy and Betsy had been on day five of their wait when Sabra had emerged from the trees on the side of the road. She was thin, cut and bruised, and as she looked into their happy tearful faces, her hoarse voice said, “Deal with it.”
Her friends spent two days nursing her back to health and letting her rest before they continued on to Canada. They were encouraged by the signs of game, and even their amateur traps were able to catch some kind of meat for them to roast over the campfire at night and add to the berries and nuts they were able to harvest along the roadside. Two days into the journey, they risked a side trip to a farmhouse and found clothes, blankets and a few cans of vegetables.
They had been happy and laughing their way through Montana for a week, and they were finally able to sleep without one of them waking up with a nightmare. The summer days were spent walking down the middle of the rural highway kicking stones, or walking on th
e soft green grass.
The warm summer sun woke Sabra, and when she opened her eyes she was inches away from the darkest gaze she had ever seen. Straight black hair was brushing her cheeks and she screamed. The hand of the man immediately lashed out across her cheek and she screamed again.
The large man grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled her up. Emmy and Betsy were on their knees and already quietly sobbing by the feet of the Indians holding their leashes.
Oh my god… please… no, god… not again. Sabra was in shock. No fucking way, after all she had been through, had some crazy tribe of Indians managed to catch her. She raised her eyes to the sky and screamed. “Fuck you… fuck you… we made it. Fuck you. Why are you doing this? Why are you letting this happen?”
The Indian slapped her so hard she fell to the ground. “Silence.”
That was when she saw it, the same intense gleam in the Indian’s eyes that Sabra had seen in Mike, Taylor, the Colonel, and so many others. The gleam that said, ‘Something has made us just a little more than we were before. Something has put us in charge’. She licked her lip and shuddered, already anticipating the resolve and dedication the man would have to convince her… and himself… that he was her master. His eyes narrowed and he smiled.
Torturous Existence Page 10
