by S. J. Lewis
She was still tired and sleepy when they came for her and not-Barbara. Both women were hauled roughly out of their bed, dumped onto the floor, and made to lie still as their captors handcuffed them. Then they padlocked a length of chain to each of their chain collars, effectively leashing them together. Aside from a few small grunts of pain or discomfort, neither woman said anything. Once they were securely connected, they were hauled to their feet.
The rough handling had excited her. Kimberley felt flushed, and her nipples were stiffening. She stole a quick sideways glance at not-Barbara, who seemed to be in the same state as she was. For a moment, Kimberley’s mind swirled with speculation: Were they both going to be taken back out into the woods? Somehow, the prospect of being an outdoor captive again didn’t bother her as it had before. She could just picture their five captors leading their little slave coffle along the trails, pitching camp for the night, using their captives over and over by the light of the campfire. The image was so overpowering that she couldn’t suppress a shudder. What was happening to her?
But…all that the men did for now was lead them out to the kitchen. Kimberley could smell the breakfast they had cooked, and her stomach growled politely. The men seated themselves around the table, and made the women kneel nearby on the floor.
This little game she knew. Kimberley began to beg for food by nuzzling at the legs of the men. She concentrated most of her efforts on the two new ones. If they were going to be her new captors, it didn’t hurt to play up to them a little, and if they weren’t, well, maybe she could make her original captors a little jealous. She carefully kept her pose and actions submissive, docile: A fleeting glance at a face as food was delivered to her opened mouth, then a quick turning away, head down, as she ate. She didn’t want to overstep the bounds as she had done before. Next to her, not-Barbara seemed unsure of things at first…or was she just reluctant? Eventually, hunger won out, and she was copying Kimberley’s actions. Then she added a twist of her own, making small noises of pleasure whenever she received food. After a minute or two, Kimberley began to copy her. The six feet or so of chain that linked their collars didn’t interfere with their individual movements as long as they stayed near each other, but since they had to go to a different man for each mouthful of fried egg, bacon, or hash-brown potatoes, every so often Kimberley would feel a sharp tug on her neck chain. Some of the time, she tugged back. Some of the time, she simply moved closer to not-Barbara.
He watched elf-girl’s performance with interest. She seemed to have learned a great deal in the past few days. Now, even though she was competing with Rosalie, she was still being careful not to provoke punishment. She wasn’t built as generously as Rosalie, but she still looked very good naked. Her slender body had a beauty all its own. She looked delicate, even fragile, but he knew first-hand just how tough and resilient she was. And time and time again, his gaze kept straying to her ears. Whenever she nuzzled at him for food, he gave her a little bit less than any of the others did. But every time she took even the smallest mouthful from him, her eyes would meet his for the briefest moment, and there would be a secret, knowing look in those eyes, a barest suggestion of a smile before she turned away. He was fairly certain that none of the other men saw it, and was also fairly certain that Rosalie did see it…or at least knew that there was something going on, even if she wasn’t quite sure what it was.
When breakfast was over, one of the new men wiped the women down, washing away any stray bits of food that had gone astray, while the others quickly cleared the table. Kimberley waited, certain that something interesting would follow shortly. She knelt patiently alongside not-Barbara. Having another woman here made everything different. It didn’t make complete sense to her. With not-Barbara here, she felt simultaneously less naked, but more nude. And she couldn’t help stealing looks at not-Barbara’s naked body. It was exciting, somehow, the more so because it felt so forbidden. She wanted to feel not-Barbara’s nipple in her mouth again, wanted to run her hands over not-Barbara’s body again, and even more wanted to feel not-Barbara’s mouth on her nipple, not-Barbara’s hands on her body. She shivered, licked her lips, swallowed. What WAS happening to her? She was beginning to feel like an animal in heat.
“All right,” Alpha interrupted her daydreaming by hauling her to her feet by her leash. Beside her, not-Barbara also rose. “This way.” He gave her leash a tug and Kimberley obediently followed him. Inside, she was almost quivering with anticipation. She was certain that a good, hard fucking was coming up, somehow, somewhere, and if she and not-Barbara were going to stay chained together by the neck it meant that…that…they would each be able to see, and hear…and smell…the other being used, and that idea already had her wet. She wondered if not-Barbara was thinking the same thing.
There was a big, heavy old wooden table in the living room, and Alpha was leading them towards it. Were they going to be bent over the table and taken from behind? Kimberley tossed her head, trying to clear it. Almost everything now seemed to have her thinking about when, where and how she was going to be used. Her skin was tingling, her nipples were swelling and hardening just from the whispery brushing of the air across them as she walked. She could sense not-Barbara following along behind, and wondered briefly if not-Barbara was looking at her rump.
Alpha stopped just short of the table, looked at her briefly. She remembered to avert her eyes, looking down and away from him. “Okay,” she heard him say. “Get her ready.”
Behind her, Kimberley heard not-Barbara protest briefly, a protest cut short by the sound of a sharp slap. She couldn’t help looking around to see what was going on.
Not-Barbara was standing with her eyes closed, her cuffed hands rubbing her rump gingerly. One of the new men and Bullet-head were buckling some sort of belt snugly around her waist. It seemed to be part of a complicated harness. There were more straps and buckles…and one long, thick dildo, very lifelike except for the lurid orange color. Kimberley gulped. She watched them put the harness on not-Barbara, unable to turn away. Straps went around each of her thighs, one went straight up to connect to the belt around her waist, and another one…Kimberley could not see it, but she could guess from how not-Barbara jerked and grunted…must go straight up in back to connect to the belt around her waist also. Bullet-head secured the last strap with a quick jerk that made not-Barbara gasp and open her eyes again. Kimberley winced as she imagined how that must have felt. The dildo stood out boldly in front of her now, tilted slightly upwards. Kimberley’s eyes met not-Barbara’s, and Kimberley knew beyond a doubt that not-Barbara did indeed have a bit of a grudge about last night.
Alpha turned her back around to face the table, and bent her over it with his hand on the back of her neck. She whimpered piteously and closed her eyes as the side of her face touched the hard wood of the table, but inside, she was wildly aroused, waiting, wanting…
Alpha’s grip on her neck tightened. Hard male hands gripped her ankles, spreading her legs wider and holding her tight. She could feel other hands touching her here and there, a quick, rough caress between her legs. She heard a laugh as that caress found her ready.
She squealed as not-Barbara began thrusting the dildo into her. She kept squealing, and began to squirm and struggle too. Not because she wanted to get away: No indeed! She knew that her struggles would make her captors hold her tighter, harder, more cruelly. Not-Barbara thrust the dildo in a little deeper. Kimberley heard the sound of another slap, heard not-Barbara’s yelp, and suddenly the dildo slammed WAY up into her. There was nothing contrived about her squeal this time.
Kimberley shut her eyes tight, restricting her reality to sounds and feelings: The iron grips on her ankles and the back of her neck: The hard, hard wood of the table against her face, her breasts: The hard, hard dildo sliding in and out of her: The sound of her own irregular panting and gasping, of not-Barbara’s grunts of effort, of the sound of hard slaps and feminine squeals as the men urged not-Barbara on to more vigorous efforts. It went on and o
n. Kimberley’s thighs began quivering from the strain, but that only served to intensify everything else. Still, it was not quite enough to bring her release, only to put her right at the very edge of it, so close, so close…
And then Alpha- it had to be him- began to stroke the side of her face, and her one exposed ear… Kimberley opened her mouth wide for one long shriek of savage pleasure and pain.
They helped her slump to the floor without hurting herself. She watched, too weak to do anything else, while they removed the dildo harness from not-Barbara. Her legs were still trembling from stress and tiny little aftershocks that spread from them deep into her belly.
They made not-Barbara kneel next to her, and then went off and left the two of them alone in the living room. Not-Barbara watched them go, and once they were out of sight, she looked down at Kimberley. She looked kind of strained herself, Kimberley thought. Maybe she was worrying about what Kimberley would do to her if their captors made them switch places later.
Not-Barbara licked her lips nervously, looked back over her shoulder quickly to see if any of the men had returned, and then looked back at Kimberley. She tossed her head to get her long, dark hair out of her face, and silently mouthed “I’m sorry” to Kimberley. Kimberley closed her eyes and smiled, shaking her head weakly. She looked back up at not-Barbara, and whispered, faintly: “It’s okay. It’s okay.” What could either of them really done, anyway?
The rest of the day was…strenuous. The men moved them downstairs, to the big cell. A bigger mattress had been provided, but no other amenities. The two women remained handcuffed, and chained together by the neck, except for occasional and irregular breaks when one or the other of them pleaded to use the bathroom. They were left alone, except when one or another of their captors felt an urge to fuck one of them again. While not-Barbara would close her eyes or look away whenever it was Kimberley’s turn, Kimberley herself couldn’t keep from watching when not-Barbara was being used. Oh, she tried not to watch…but she could still HEAR what was going on, and sooner or later she just had to SEE it too. There was something very female, very vulnerable in not-Barbara’s helplessness and submission, something very arousing in the small noises she made of pleasure, pain or discomfort, in the metallic clinking of her handcuffs, the chain around her neck. Even when they were alone, Kimberley remained acutely aware that there was a chained and naked woman beside her, which somehow intensified her own nakedness, her own chains.
It was dark when they finally brought the two women back upstairs. They removed the handcuffs, removed the chain that had tethered them together for so many hours, and locked them into the little upstairs cell.
As the lock to the door snicked home, Kimberley stood rubbing her wrists for a moment. The handcuffs had not been too tight, but even so, they had bruised her. She felt tired and hungry (apparently they weren’t going to be fed tonight…well, it had been a big breakfast) and sticky all over. She stretched and worked some kinks out of her shoulders before regarding not-Barbara, who looked to be similarly bruised, similarly hungry, and similarly sticky. “Shower?” she suggested to her cellmate, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
“You…you want to go first?” Not-Barbara asked.
Kimberley snorted. “Look at us,” She spread her arms wide. “After what we’ve been through together today, I don’t think this is the time to get all shy and maidenly. It’s a small shower, but we can both fit into it. Come on. We’ll shower together, and we can do each other’s backs.” Not-Barbara still hesitated, and Kimberley smiled. “Come on,” she urged. “What’s the big deal?”
Chapter Thirteen
Day Thirteen
It was very, very hard to wake up. Through half-opened eyes, Kimberley could see bright light filtering down through the skylight overhead, which meant that it had to be very late in the morning. Yet, their captors had not come for them. She snickered to herself. Maybe they were as used up and worn out as their poor, helpless captives. Beside her, not-Barbara was a warm, soft presence in the bed. They had been sleeping spoon-fashion again, not-Barbara pressed up against Kimberley’s back, one of her long, long legs thrown over Kimberley’s. Under the covers, Kimberley reached down to run her hand along her companion’s thigh, feeling the warm, silky flesh stretched over rubbery muscles. She sighed, a sound of contentment. What had happened last night had not been planned, and it had been very awkward at first because neither of them really knew quite what to do…but it had turned out all right. She closed her eyes and smiled. Better than all right, actually. Being used, fucked, by a strong, rough, hard male was exciting, thrilling, intensely pleasurable, yes. Oh, yes! But the soft, tender, gentle lovemaking that she and not-Barbara had made together last night…that was very, very nice too. Kimberley had never thought of herself as bisexual, and she was certain that it had all happened only because of the circumstances. Maybe under the right circumstances, any woman could want to make love to another woman. Maybe the same was true for men too, she mused…but she could not quite picture Alpha doing that.
Not-Barbara stirred, murmured something, and then Kimberley felt not-Barbara’s hand on top of hers, where it still rested on not-Barbara’s thigh.
“Good morning,” not-Barbara whispered, close enough to Kimberley so that her breath stirred the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck.
“Good morning,” Kimberley replied in a similar whisper, squeezing not-Barbara’s thigh gently and feeling not-Barbara’s hand gently squeeze in return.
There was an awkward silence. Did they have anything to talk about? Kimberley didn’t even know not-Barbara’s real name, and was fairly certain that not-Barbara only knew her as “elf-girl”, if she knew her by any name at all. She thought about telling her her real name, and discarded the idea. It was better if neither of them knew, she thought. Anonymity made some things easier. Maybe even better.
She rolled over to face not-Barbara and kiss her softly. She’d meant it to be only a short kiss, but somehow, it lingered. She could feel not-Barbara’s tonguetip brush her lips, shyly, tentatively. Kimberley fought back the urge to break the kiss…well, it wasn’t a very strong urge, more like a weak reflex, really…and met not-Barbara’s tonguetip with her own. Then both their mouths opened, their tongues entwined as their arms and legs went around each other and they pulled each other close.
They both had a better idea of what to do now. Kimberley broke the kiss only to lick and nibble at not-Barbara’s neck, then move down to those full, round breasts. She paid special attention to not-Barbara’s nipples, savoring how different they felt and tasted from any male nipple she’d ever put her mouth to. When they were both swollen and exquisitely sensitive, she trailed a line of saliva down not-Barbara’s soft belly, licking and kissing. Not-Barbara was moaning softly now, moving under her, parting her legs for Kimberley.
Kimberley moved so that she was on her side, her head towards the foot of the bed. Not-Barbara’s hands slid between Kimberley’s thighs, gently moving them apart as Kimberley began working her lips slowly up not-Barbara’s inner thighs. For one brief moment, Kimberley feared that their captors would come in while this was going on, but…so what if they did? This felt good. It felt exciting and arousing in a way that was a sharp contrast to all the other exciting and arousing…and sometimes scary…feelings that she had been subjected to over the past days. And then not-Barbara’s hands reached around her to hold her rump, one cheek cupped in each hand, and pull her even closer for not-Barbara’s lips and tongue, and all coherent thoughts drowned in an incoming tide of sheer sensation. Kimberley shivered as not-Barbara’s tongue sought out the most sensitive parts of her, and set about giving as much pleasure as she was getting. Not-Barbara tasted good, a little salty, faintly sweet, and very, very tender. Female musk filled her nostrils. It was an intoxicating scent.
They were sleeping again when their captors came for them, arms around each other, legs tangled together under the covers. They had tried to be very quiet while they were making love, tried not to ma
ke any noise that would attract male interest. It had made the whole episode feel more forbidden, more dangerous, more exciting. Afterwards, as they snuggled together, they had spoken in low, intimate whispers about whether or not to shower. Kimberley could feel and smell not-Barbara on her face, and could smell herself on not-Barbara’s. If they did not clean up, their captors would know what had happened. But, if they turned on the shower it would make enough noise for the men to hear. They might even hear if they only used the sink. Kimberley ended the discussion by starting to lick not-Barbara’s chin, then her face. Not-Barbara was surprised at first, then stifled a giggle and began to reciprocate. As they licked each other clean, Kimberley thought of two cats grooming each other, and had to stifle a giggle of her own.
It was not-Barbara’s two original captors who came for them. They rousted the women out of bed, handcuffed them, and chained them together by the neck again. They were businesslike about it, and Kimberley suspected they’d done this sort of thing many times before. Still, they did manage to get their hands on her in some unbusinesslike places. Her flesh tingled where they had touched.
This seemed to be some sort of new routine, being chained to not-Barbara. Kimberley found it arousing, on a very primitive level, to be part of a slave coffle…even such a small one. She couldn’t say why it was this way, but she had given up trying to analyze and explain things to herself some time back. It had also occurred to her that as long as she was chained to not-Barbara, she wasn’t going to be taken out into the woods. It seemed very unlikely that either group of captors was going to be able to hog both captives for themselves. Unless there was something else going on… Kimberley shook her head. No point in speculating like that.
Breakfast this morning was generous: Scrambled eggs, tasty little link sausages, hot buttered toast. Both women ate greedily, often competing for the same delicious forkful. The men laughed at some of the extremes their captives would go to for food. Sometimes they teased them by holding it just out of reach of an opened, eager mouth. The meal went on for some time. Towards the end, the food was getting cold, but Kimberley was so hungry that she didn’t care. She ate whatever was given to her, savoring each bite.
