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Forced Sex Stories / Re: A Rape Minute: #9 of a series
« Last post by Sweet Suzy on Today at 07:22:13 AM »
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Loved the story. Mother always told me to only order a salad unless you plan to put out for the meal. ;)

But after the salad, you got the filet mignon and the lobster, washing them down with a bottle of expensive champagne?
   

And then it comes time for payment but I don't have enough money.  :-[ What am I to do  :( Sounds like we have a continuation of a new story here ;)
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Forced Sex Stories / Re: Bambi Redux
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:55:02 PM »
Ch. 11 Herding is Possible, Even in the Open

Abby was not privy to the doctor’s casual dismissal of Dan’s concerns. She’d been set free some time ago, and now ran completely unbound, trying frantically to choose a path that would save her life. Hours had passed, and she seemed to be better at keeping out of sight on her second attempt. Even so, she was exhausted and in considerable agony from her tortures and beatings. She was also famished, and had finally taken some advantage of her survival training to seek out disgusting crawling creatures under rocks to eat. The first two attempts had failed. She simply couldn’t stomach it. But eventually she had forced herself to swallow quickly a selection of live, twisting maggots.

The sun was sinking on the horizon, but her sense of time was still off. It was probably late in the evening, but the sunlight at fear kept her running, shaking from her adrenaline overload, too scared to lie down and sleep. Was the doctor still chasing her for the day? Would he stop before she did? There was no way to know. So Abby continued her half-jog and half-walk over the endlessly same terrain until the growing twilight convinced her to take shelter in a patch of bushes, hopefully out of sight.

She could not escape the cold, though. No matter how long the days, she was still far, far to the north, and a damp chill settled over her. There was no moon in the hazy sky, so Abby eventually found herself in a darkness broken only by the glow of the northern horizon. She curled her nude body up as tight as she could, shivering as a last defense against the chill. It seemed worse than the previous night. The sky was clearer, and less heat was trapped by clouds. None was trapped by the meager bushes Abby tried to use for cover, so only her horrible fatigue allowed her some semblance of rest as she fell into a very light, disturbed sleep that nonetheless lasted for hours.

Abby awoke cramped and sore, and found it hard to even stand up. She managed to drink dew off the local foliage, but blanched at the thought of eating another maggot. All she could do was continue her flight from death. She had been limping along for hours when she passed over another high spot on the ground and saw him. It was probably the doctor, though he was far away, off almost directly to her left. And worse, he seemed to see her too. He’d managed to track her all that way! She cried out in horror and disbelief before she ran directly away from him as fast as her legs could manage to carry her.

She ran and ran, but in the undulating hilly ground managed to lose track of her pursuer. He was certainly there. Just out of sight. She wondered if she were out of his sight. Was she just minutes from capture and death?

Things soon went from bad to worse. What had been just grasses and shrubs and innocuous tundra plants changed, and rather suddenly. Abby realized, with a long cry of misery that she couldn’t silence from escaping her throat, that she was entering a vast patch of prickly thistles. There wasn’t time to try to get around them. She could run into them, subjecting her nude female skin to assault from thousands of tiny spikes, or she could stay, get raped, and then finally murdered. Yet, the increasingly dense, tall stands of thistle made her wonder how she could possibly run into it. Could she survive, stark naked as she already was?

A gunshot from behind her made her decision. Crying in misery, she plunged forward into the full-blown patch of thistles, the thorny leaves scratching her shallowly but a thousand times from head to toe. The pain was like nothing she’d ever known, but the gunfire left her no option. She just plunged forward, thinking of nothing beyond survival.

Behind her, unbeknownst to Abby, Glenn has ceased the chase. He had no intention of following the cunt into such a briar patch. Once he had checked his GPS against surveys the group had done years ago and realized the death trap was nearby, it was an easy decision to ambush the girl and send her flying into it. It meant he wouldn’t get to rape her again, but the thought of the frightened naked girl killing herself as she thrashed about through a million tiny needles was too intoxicating to pass up. Oh, what terror and agony she would experience.

In any case, the doctor had no intention of missing it. At least not the aftermath. The bimbo had run in circles during the chase, enough to have brought them both not so very far from the camp. He could make it back in a good four hour hike. Then a quick helicopter ride should let him track Abby down easily. It wasn’t like her white but bloodied skin wouldn’t stand out easily from above in the green patch. If she was still alive, he could simply shoot at her and make her move more. It would be an end for her that was just too perfect to believe. So he happily vacated the area to obtain a better view.

Ch. 12 Two Girls’ Descent Gives Them a Morbidly Useful Idea

The scene in the jail cell seemed designed to make even a hardened sadist shudder, but to Jeanette and Carrie, it was their life. There was no cleaning the floor, and Mary’s corpse had long since begun to decompose. With no food whatsoever, it had taken first Carrie, and then a day later Jeanette, a week before taking the first tentative bite of Mary’s flesh. There seemed no other way to live. The door was unyielding, and no other food existed. The dog food, already poisoned, improved not at all when the single toilet somehow plugged up, and every flush for water sent liters of water flowing onto the floor, further soaking the kibble, and turning the girls’ only home into a putrid pit of moldy death.

Yet neither girl gained the benefit of insanity to save their conscious minds from the horror surrounding them. It had been too long. Surely the doctor would have returned if he could. What, they both had to wonder, would happen if something had happened to him? Would their freedom from his ingenious tortures only come at the cost of a truly miserable, protracted death?

The looming problem was that Mary’s decomposition and contamination by the filthy, wet floor would render her flesh inedible. After their first trepidation, the two girls, who rarely spoke any more, were gorging themselves on human flesh, all to eat what they could while they could. When their first signs of food poisoning arrived, they knew that was it. No more food was available to either so long as both lived.

Jeanette sat propped against the wall, trying to keep it together as the endless hours ticked away. Her eyes were locked on the mostly eaten corpse in the middle of the room. Now that the flesh was gone, perhaps they could at least push the body out of the cell. Only the bones had to fit. The bones. She stared at the bloody bones of Mary’s leg. The femurs were there, thick, strong. The strongest bones in the body, she guessed. And long, too.

“We can do this,” she said, speaking her first full sentence in days.

“Uh huh.”

“No, listen! We can pry the door open! Help me!” Moving in erratic motion, like a mad woman almost, Jeanette began trying to pry the femur bone away from the body. The ligaments were still there, and it took her some twisting to finally separate the femur from the pelvis. She didn’t even bother with the rest of the leg. There was a spot on the door near the lock where there were actually a few inches of space between the door and the barred wall. She shoved the femur bone in and then pushed. Carrie saw what she was trying to do and joined in, pushing with all her might, right up until the bone snapped and broke in two.

“No!” Jeanette cried, dropping to the floor in sobs. “No! No! No! God, no!” Carrie starred at the broken bones, perhaps not comprehending. But then she went to the body and began pulling at the other femur bone. Jeanette saw her actions, and joined her. Neither spoke. It was Mary’s right femur. Maybe it was thicker. Maybe it was stronger. They got it detached and repeated the action, trying to push against the locking mechanism in a vain attempt to bust it before the bone broke. They could hear the creak of metal straining, and see the slight bend of the bone. And then, with a pop, the latch snapped and the door flung open.

For a moment both girls just lay in the filth where they had fallen. The door was wide open, but neither grasped right away that they were actually free. All that was left was to run upstairs and out the door to rescue. Screaming in joy, cackling really, they struggled to their feet and ran out the outer door of the observing area. Both knew the basement all too well, and made a beeline for the stairs leading up. But as they rounded the corner and up the first couple steps they collided, literally, with a new twist they hadn’t considered.

Neither had ever seen it in use, or knew it was even there, but across the stairwell was a folding metal gate, the kind seen sometimes in concert halls or stadiums, that folded up in to the wall, but could be pulled out and locked in place on the opposite wall. And so it was. Unlike the cell door, this semi-flexible but sturdy metal gate showed no sign of age or weakness, nor was there any obvious place to try to pry it open like the cell door.

Unable to speak except to utter shocked, horrified cries, the girls turned back to the concrete walled basement. There was food, they knew that much. There was stuff for snacking when the doctor didn’t want to go upstairs, and they’d both seen the overflow pantry. But there was not a window or a second door or a phone, or any link between the two of them and anyone on the outside. And that was the situation the two helpless slave girls found themselves in after their desperate jail break.

Ch. 13 Do Turned Tables Really Turn?

Abby had a secret of her own. One the doctor didn’t know. After she had stomped through the thistle patch, cutting herself in a thousand shallow places, she had been lying on the ground, trying to find the will to continue, when through a fleetingly clear line of sight she had seen the doctor, back turned and leaving. It dawned on her, slowly at first in her fevered mind, that mere clothes would give her hunter only a few hundred feet of additional protection in such dense thorny growth, and none at all on the hands or face. He no more wanted to run into the thistles than she did, but he had an actual choice.

Without the fear of imminent death by gunshot spurring her on, Abby moved much more slowly and with much louder crying on her way out of the patch than in. But out she did make it, and fearing that only cold, hungry death awaited her out in the wilderness, she followed in the direction the doctor had gone. With him not hunting her, maybe she could follow and gain the advantage over him.

It was painful going, and scary. She was hardly safe. Were the doctor to take a long enough break, she might walk right up to him without seeing him first, and then only rape and death would await her. But she did not stumble across him. Better, after two hours she caught a glimpse of him. She’s veered much too far to the left, but she could correct it. She wasn’t sure what would happen. Maybe if she could wait outside the camp until he left it again then she could eat. Or maybe call for help, assuming the helicopter had a radio. It was inconceivable that it wouldn’t. For the first time, Abby at least had hope.

Hours later, not too far behind the doctor, Abby crawled to the camp. She moved slowly, staying as low in the bushes as she could. Every step made her heart jump. But she knew of no salvation that didn’t come from inside the camp. She could not go back, and was petrified of what awaited her ahead.

The doctor and Dan were sitting on folding chairs, beers in hand. Dan had a large cigar draped from his lips. Abby could barely hear them until their voices raised.

“At least let me watch!” Dan said in frustration. “I’m bored sick just hanging around here.”

“Want to watch, watch,” the doctor replied. “But she’s mine. I’ll flush her out and I’ll shoot the bitch.”

“Are you sure she’s still in there?”

“No. But if she kept going straight she’ll have lost more blood than she can recover from.”

“If she’s still alive, you should use a flare gun to light the shit on fire around her.”

The doctor took a long chug of his beer. “You know, that’s not a bad idea, Dan,” he said. “Not bad at all.”

Abby felt sick, listening to the two bastards describe ways to kill her, apparently with all the seriousness of armchair quarterbacking a football game. No one, she knew, knew the case file on these two sickos better than she did. How many decades had they been killing naked girls for sport? Had many more did they have left? Even if she survived, could they be stopped? Would she end up kidnapped and hunted again in six more years?

Her ponderings were stopped when the two got up and walked away, presumably toward the helicopter. Abby froze, unwilling to move, but when she was more than certain they were out of sight she scurried down into the camp, her mind intent on the cooler. But then she saw it, lying under a chair. She grabbed it, feeling its comforting grip and clean moving trigger by her finger. And in a flash, she ran after the two rapist-killers.

Neither man was facing her as they took the tarp off the chopper. Dan noticed her first, and nudged Glenn with his elbow. Both turned to see Abby, almost unrecognizable as she was covered in bruises and uncountable cuts. Her naked body had taken such a beating but was still working.

“Well, well. How about this?” Glenn said.

“Neither of you move!” she screamed. She had the safety off, and had practiced with pistols before. They stood thirty feet away.

“Where did the slut get the gun, Dan?” Glenn asked.

“I may have left one back in the camp. Oops.”

“Yeah, that was careless.”

“Shut up!” Abby screamed at them, burning with rage. Here she was, their rape victim, holding a gun on them, and they didn’t seem fazed. Where was their screaming, and begging, and wetting themselves in fear? Why weren’t they reacting the way she had? Could such bullies really be braver than she was?

“Free country, free speech, honey,” Dan said with a smirk.

“Is that gun even loaded?” Glenn asked. “Is this cunt threatening us with an unloaded weapon?”

“Well, the clip is empty,” Dan said. “That much is certain.” Abby felt her heart sinking. Her mind was so clouded she hadn’t even checked.

“What about the chamber?”

“I’m not really sure,” Dan replied with a shrug. “I think so. I think she has one shot.”

“One shot, Abby. That’s all you get,” the doctor told her. “Are you going to make it count?”

“It’s not like we’re going to line up for you,” Dan told her. “One or both us is going to ran that pistol all the way up your cunt to your womb, and then discharge it there.”

Abby whimpered, shaking. She didn’t know what to do. Everything was going wrong. She couldn’t win. She just kept failing to these men.

“This has got to be the best entertainment we’ve had in all our years of hunting sluts,” the doctor said. “Seriously, Abby, you’re to be commended. It won’t save you, of course. One way or another, you’re going to die here today. Nothing can change that now. Be smart. Use that round on yourself.” He gestured, shaping his fingers like a gun and putting them in his mouth, mimicking a gunshot to his own head. “It’ll be quick and painless. You won’t feel a thing.”

“If either or both of us get to you, though,” Dan said. “Well, I for one will try to make you my masterpiece of pain and suffering.” Glenn nodded his agreement.

“So, what’s it going to be, girlie girl?” the doctor asked. “We’re tired of waiting. Discharge that weapon right now or we’re coming over and taking it from you.” Dan had been leaning casually on the helicopter during the standoff, but now stood up straight.

Abby was crying in frustration, shame, and terror. She had the weapon, but still felt utterly naked, humiliated, and broken down. It was a vague memory from her reading up on helicopters that gave her her final idea. If it failed, she would just run until she found a cliff to hurl herself off of. She aimed at where she believed the gas tank was and pulled the trigger.

The explosion blew both men into tiny bits of charred flesh and blood. It also sent ragged bits of helicopter flying out in all directions, and it was one of those sheets of jagged metal that ripped into Abby’s belly, knocking her down. She clutched at her abdomen in agony, unable to stop the flow of blood coming out of her. She curled up, trying everything to keep the wound closed, but still her blood flowed and she felt cold. She closed her eyes, wondering if, like years before, she would gain a miraculous chance to open them once more.

Ch. 14 Like Ahab, But With a Touch More Sense

Ben Cross knew his supplies were running low. He’d lived off the land, better, certainly, than the jungle slut had done. How she’d managed all these weeks was a mystery to him. The camp was gone. He’d seen the trail of smoke, but by the time he’d run back to the camp, he had to turn quickly away, lest the Mounties saw him. He’d seen the slut being loaded onto their patrol helicopter. Whether she was alive or dead was anyone’s guess. But that was weeks ago.

Now he had the trail. Tina would not stay alive too much longer. He just had to wait.

Tina knew full well Cross was still stalking her. She’d long since run out of tears to cry. She’d suppressed every civilized instinct she had, eating anything that moved, no matter how slimy, and pushing the nightly cold and daily mosquitoes out of her conscious mind. Yet she was still incomparably, indescribably miserable, shamed, and frightened.

There was a river, probably one without even a name, but it had fresh water and that was enough. She walked down to the fast moving water’s edge and took a long drink.

What happened next seemed to be slow motion, like in a movie where the monster is not quite dead. From out of the water just a few feet away, breathing reed still in his teeth, Cross rose up like the devil over Tina and in one swift move had her in his tight, angry grasp.

She screamed in terror as he hurled her to the ground, bashing her fragile bodies against the rocks. In seconds he was on her, raining blow upon blow down on her face and body. He quickly flipped her onto her belly in order to lash her hands tightly behind her back. Then, with the girl secured, he got his pants off. His angry cock had been waiting for her for what seemed an eternity, and was not to be denied now. A single thrust filled her pussy with his hot member, and then he began ramming her, over and over. Tina cried in pain. Cross, admittedly, wasn’t even finding his usual pleasure in raping girls. Tina was more of a need to be satiated than anything else. Even so, it was good to drain his balls into her belly.

And then her hands were free, the old wet rope broken by scrapes on the rocks under Tina’s back during the assault. She reached frantically for the knife Cross kept strapped to his ankle, grabbing it, and then stabbing his leg with it. The man let out a cry of pain as his calf muscle was impaled. But then he had his gun in hand, blasting a round into her belly at point blank range.

Tina rolled backward and into the cold water of the river. Cross tried to sit up and shoot her again before she was out of sight, but only the first round hit her. She flowed away, still moving, but with a possibly fatal gut wound.

Now Cross faced a dilemma. A major storm was clearly brewing, and the nights were already getting colder as the days grew shorter. Could Tina realistically survive, flowing into an even more desolate part of the country? Would anyone ever see her alive again, even he didn’t chase her? And if so, he was already a wanted man. It wasn’t as though she knew his secret identity. More important, could he survive himself much longer? There was, he knew, a tiny fishing village a day’s walk away, though it might take him longer now. Tina wouldn’t find it, but Cross could. He knew it was there, and he knew where. Tina knew neither.

“So long, jungle cunt,” he said out loud before turning away and heading for the closest outpost of civilization he knew of.

Epilogue A: The Simplest After-Story

No living human ever reported seeing Tina Pham alive again. It was with some modest academic interest by archaeologists that a set of human remains found buried in the mud of a river not too terribly far from the mouth at Hudson’s Bay was subjected, decades later, to forensic testing. When it came back the remains dated only to the early twenty-first century that it became a police matter. Dental records put the name of Tina Pham to the skeleton, but by that date, not a single living relative of Miss Pham’s was known to still be alive, and her discovery was greeted with silence.

Epilogue B: Deja-Vu

Abby lay in her bed in the hospital, staring at the ceiling, shivering in fear, wondering if the nightmares would ever go away. The police guard outside her room meant little. One of them still lived. One that was trained in police procedure. She was a Bambi, and one Bambi killer was still out there, apparently with few hobbies outside of killing Bambi’s. And so, she believed despondently with all her heart, that someday she would again wake up nude, lost, alone, to be hunted for sport and amusement. And everyone knew that the third time was the charm.

Epilogue C: Whose Fate is Worse?

The trick-or-treaters never came to the house, even when it did show signs of habitation. That it had sat vacant for months changed nothing. The next day dawned the same as any other.

Jeanette and Carried again grew hungry, rationing their food as the supply grew smaller and smaller. In many ways, both slaves were better off. They couldn’t escape, contact the world, or get dressed, but they lived in a suite of rooms with food and bathroom facilities, including a shower. They had long since sealed up the jail cell area, preferring not to clean or even look at that particular mess again. With abundant food for much of their time, and free from tortures, they both regained more of their sanity than they had had in years.

“You’re watching those again?” Jeanette asked, as Carrie sat, staring immersed at the extreme torture pornography on the screen. They had no TV reception, but they had extensive tapes and DVD’s of the worst form of legal and illegal female abuse imaginable. Carrie just shrugged, not really listening. She’d been subject to such things for twenty-four of her forty years of life. The need to look at something happening, with movement and sound, outweighed her cringing horror at what she actually saw.

Until, that is, they heard the sounds of movement upstairs, and footsteps coming down the steps. Jeanette and Carrie both froze. Was it rescue or the return of torture? They ran to the stairway to find the doctor’s friend, the FBI agent with the bad plastic surgery, unlocking the folding gate. He stopped when he saw them.

Carrie gave out a long cry and ran away. Jeanette just stood transfixed as the agent pulled out a dart gun and continued unlocking the door.

“I didn’t think I’d find anyone alive in this house!” he said with a wide grin. “What are you two bitches doing out of your cages? You don’t have permission for that!”

Though Jeanette stood paralyzed, Cross shot her with the dart gun anyway, then ran further into the basement to find the hysterically screaming and flailing Carrie. Jeanette continued standing, not comprehending right away that in a life-changing fluke of luck, the tranquilizer dart in her tit was defective, delivering only a tenth of a dose, and leaving her relatively unchanged. Still she hesitated, frozen in fear, but as she heard Cross subduing Carrie, with punches thrown, she fled screaming up the stairs.

She didn’t know if Cross was following her or not. All the other doors were open. Nothing stood in her way. Screaming both for help, from fear, and out of a desperate sense of exhilaration that something good was happening, she flew out the front door, down the driveway, and into the road beyond the hedges.

The last thing she heard was the squeal of brakes from an older-model, non-ABS equipped Chevy Blazer. Then she heard a thump, that of her own body knocked aside and hurled through the air to land on the pavement thirty feet away. Her rapture ended as the pain brought her back to reality and her last thoughts were of screaming sadness that after so much her life would end so stupidly.

In the driver’s seat, Shelly Logan, a thirty year old housewife with one daughter at home, screamed in shocked horror as the naked woman bounced off her grill. She jumped out of the car and ran over to the lifeless woman. She only noticed the footsteps behind her at the last second.

“I didn’t see her!” she cried before noticing the dart sticking out of her blouse, followed by her collapsing to the ground. Though paralyzed, Shelly was wide awake and felt everything as the man pushed her back into her vehicle, did the same with the dead woman’s body, then drove it up the driveway and into the garage of the house nearby. She wanted to struggle as he pulled her out and used a knife to tear away her clothing, soon leaving her naked.

“When God closes a door, he opens a window,” the man muttered as he dragged her naked body, limp but feeling and alive, into the house, down the stairs, and into a chamber a hundred times worse than the worst third-world public restroom. She caught sight of a half-decayed corpse on the ground, and felt herself dropped casually into a slimy puddle. Her head rested at an angle where she could see the blood, stale vomit, urine, and feces that adorned the cell. That was what it was. It was a cell, and Shelly was lying nude in it, screaming silently.

The man returned shortly with another woman, limp and perhaps lifeless. But as the man dropped the other naked woman onto the ground, Shelly saw that she was breathing, and was probably drugged just as she was.

The man closed the door and wrapped a couple chains around the bars of the door and the barred wall, using three separate padlocks to secure it shut.

“Alright, you two, it’s going to take me some time to wrap things up here. No more than a couple days I would think. I’ll feed you later, when you’re up and about. But no worries, sluts. I’m perfectly prepared to take both of you with me. You won’t die today.” He walked out. “Much as you might wish to,” he said quietly once he was out of the room, though in earshot of both women. And then they waited.
3
Forced Sex Stories / Re: Bambi Redux
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:54:14 PM »
Ch. 9 Tina Does Not Regret Staying in Shape

Tina was frantic as she ran and ran and ran. There was nothing else she could do except thank her lucky stars she still ran regularly. She was fit, but hungry and naked. On a track with running shoes and energy bars she would have nothing to fear from any of the men. But each time her foot landed on something rough, sharp, or sloped at a funny angle she remembered why she was in such danger nonetheless.

She did remember the brief conversation she and Abby had once had about joining forces if they were ever hunted again. She made it out five miles without catching sight of any of the men, and turned to the right. This part would be harder. She could pace off five miles easily enough. She could run in a straightish line with the sun guiding her. But tracing out a big circle was going to be tough. The landscape scared her. She avoided being out in the wild whenever she could now. City life suited her just fine. Now she was in an alien landscape unlike any she had ever seen. Clearly they were up near the top of the world somewhere. Alaska, perhaps, or Canada. Somewhere with far less help around than even in the empty foothills of Wyoming.

She was desperately trying to stay on track. Hours had passed since leaving. So when she felt the prick in her side she yelped in shock and then fear as she guessed what it was. She turned to see the dart fall out of her skin to the ground. She frantically looked around, trying to see who was there. She saw no one and fled in the opposite direction.

As she ran she felt dizzy but managed to somehow keep moving. As she stumbled around tall weeds and rolling ground she tried to understand why she wasn’t collapsing. She only felt weak. It occurred to her that the dart had fallen out on its own. Maybe it hadn’t gone deep enough. Maybe it didn’t matter, though. She was seeing blurry and finding it hard to keep moving. She stifled sobs as she fought her body to keep moving. Yet she saw no one and no more darts came her way.

Tina’s terrifying flight from her invisible assailant continued for another ten, fifteen, eventually thirty minutes. By then she felt her strength returning to its regular level. She even paused to look back. She saw the vast, spotty landscape unfolded behind her, with exposed rock, sparse patches of trees, but no pursuer. She shivered, her nude body feeling very exposed. She was sure he was watching her. Perhaps from behind the trees, or crouching in the grass, or just from too far away for her to easily spot. “Why are you doing this!” she screamed, looking around in all directions. Then she froze. If he wasn’t watching her, then she might have given away her position. She didn’t even know anymore where she was or how far from the circle she had strayed. She turned back and continued running in the direction she had been going. She had to find shelter somewhere. She needed concealment.

It was more than a half hour later when she suddenly heard something from high above her, sounding like a hissing or a firework. She turned up to see a flare falling, almost right above her head. She screamed and ran again. Someone was indeed watching her, stalking her. Her nude body offered her no protection if, or when, he found her.

Still nothing else seemed to happen. Tina was growing tired, but still thought she could outrun any of the men. Cross was probably the greatest danger there, but she didn’t even know if he was the one chasing her. She was stumbling over the rough, rolling terrain when she spotted a lower plain ahead. As she ran towards it she realized that here was an open expanse of land where neither she nor anyone else could easily hide. She even paused to catch her breath, and maybe listen. She heard sounds, but only of the wild. Mostly she heard bugs, which were all too happy to land on her now that she was holding still. She could see no one. She saw no motion.

It was still only the first round. She wasn’t facing death yet. With that thought in mind she gathered her strength and then began a mad sprint out into the plain. If she could just get out of range, then she could become sure if anyone followed her. She ran in a zig zag, but went as fast as her bare legs could carry her. With each step she breathed a new sigh of relief that she was not yet shot, but she had no idea what the range of the dart guns was.  Only when she had gone more than a half mile did she slow down and look back. There was no one. She stopped at last to catch her breath. She was totally exposed in the open, but far enough away to be safe.

She continued at a fast walk. She didn’t know who was out there or what they were doing. Obviously one of them had spotted her before, but there was no sight of him now. She was alone again. She realized that she was pointed north. It wasn’t what she had planned, at least not yet. She was completely lost after the long chase. Abby could be anywhere, assuming her friend was even still alive. Though she had obviously gotten herself in shape compared to six years before, there was no doubt that they had hurt Abby badly before the chase, possibly enough to make chasing, raping, torturing, and murdering her easy. There was no way to know.

For over an hour Tina walked at a brisk pace across the unusually flat landscape. Every tall patch of grass or scraggly bush gave her nightmares about what might jump out at her. With the slower pace she had time and energy to actually think about her situation some more. Once again, as had happened before, she realized that being a naked, hunted prey was the worst possible fear in the world. She reached the other end of the plain with growing trepidation. The plain was long enough that no one could easily get around it without taking hours. She’d looked back often enough to make sure no one was there. Yet she couldn’t shake the awful feeling of being stalked.

She continued her nervous flight from the killers. She didn’t know whether to walk or run, change course or continue on. The man could be anywhere, just anywhere. She didn’t doubt that any of the men could follow her trail. She couldn’t slow down, but her hunger and thirst were doing nothing for her. One stream earlier in the day had allowed her a few frantic gulps of water, but that was with men possibly in close pursuit. It wasn’t especially hot, but running for so long left her parched. Her feet were sore and cut, and the mosquitoes were killing her. She had to try very, very hard to keep from crying.

The sting came without warning, emanating right out of her pussy. She looked down to see the dart sticking out of her crotch, but she didn’t even have time to pull it out before her legs gave out and she fell in a heap to the ground, convulsing as she lost her power over her movements. The stinging pain in her cunt felt like ten bee stings, but she couldn’t scream. Minutes later she heard the footsteps coming from behind her as she lay motionless. A boot stepped on the ground by her face, and someone grabbed her black hair, turning her head to look up. She saw him, agent Cross, grinning down at her.

“Well well, jungle girl, looks like you’re in the crocodile’s den now,” he said. He looked down at the dart in her cunt. “Hell, I’ve been trying for a cunt shot with the trank gun for decades now. Looks like today is my lucky day. Not yours, though. That must hurt like a sonafobitch. It’s a new mixture, not like others you’ve seen.”

He stepped away and Tina heard him moving out, maybe setting up a camp. She couldn’t tell. She was desperate to flee, but her body was deeply paralyzed and hurting. “I talked to Glenn on the satellite phone earlier,” he said from behind her. “Sounds like Abby didn’t put up much of a fight. He’s been enjoying her for some time already. And Dan caught that fat cunt even easier. Looks like you’re the only slut today who’s giving us a challenge. Boy are Dan and Glenn going to be jealous of me. Thanks, by the way.” He returned to her and dragged her toward the modest camp he had just set up. It was just a tent and some stakes in the ground. She easily guessed what they were for, and was horrified but not surprised when he began tying her in a tight spread eagle to them. When the paralysis wore off she would be well secured and ready for the rape and pain that was sure to come. “Glenn’s going to enjoy Abby. So I figured I may as well enjoy you too. The day’s still young enough. I don’t want to be stuck with nothing to do when I do finally kill you.”

Hearing him say it so casually was enough to send Tina into a new wave of horror and misery. She saw no way out of it. If she hadn’t escaped this time, how could she next time?

He seemed to notice a short while later as she began to twitch and move her fingers. Of course she could still feel everything. Cross could only want to see her move, struggle, and probably scream. Several minutes went by with him standing over her with his belt off, waiting for her. She tried to remain still, delaying the inevitable. It worked at first. But finally Cross just brought the strap down across Tina’s firm tits, making her cringe and a throaty, raspy scream come from her lips. Then the floodgates opened. Cross abandoned his control and began simply whaling away on her naked form. Her cries became screams of distress and agony as he put layer after layer of welts and bruises on her body. He was thrashing her in a frenzy that only ended when he pulled his pants off and began pounding away at her cunt with his hard prick in an equally intense frenzy of lust. She still hurt from the dart and each thrust really felt like he was tearing her flesh, but it didn’t stop him from finishing his angry, vicious rape of her bare body.

She was left crying when he finally shot his cum into her. He pulled out after a short time and sat on the ground, pondering her as she continued to sob and struggle in pain. “Fucking whore,” he finally said with disgust. “I’d shoot your ass dead right now if I had something better to do with my time. But I don’t, so don’t get too comfortable you rotten skanky little twat. We’ve got hours left. But when I catch you next time, I’m going to rip you apart piece by piece and don’t you think I won’t! I may not have Glenn’s skills, but you’ll be begging for death. But that’s for later. For now, you’ve got a hot, tight little body without a single burn mark on it. Time to fix that.”

Tina was left sobbing and shaking in terror as Cross began making a fire nearby.

Ch. 10 Some Ordeals That Once Seemed Over Are Not

Dan bided his time. Glenn had caught his girl but was keeping her for a while. He guessed Ben would do the same. But Brenda was already out there in the death round. He’d given her forty five minutes, even though she thought it was thirty. Now he put out his cigarette and hefted his gear. “Looks like you get a second chance, pudge girl,” he said quietly as he set off to track the whore. He had the dart gun ready, but wondered if he would need it. Brenda moved so slow even in the first round that it seemed unlikely she would go far the second time. Even with the threat of death looming over her she seemed like the type to give up, lie down, and just die. Well that wasn’t going to happen. If she was going to be pathetic and useless, he would just keep hunting her again and again until he got bored enough to put her out of her misery.

The trail was not especially hard to follow. She didn’t change direction much and the blood was easy to spot. Dan was able to set a fast walking pace, slowing down every now and then to make sure of things. He spotted her long before he was in range. She was climbing up a ridge, stumbling over the rough ground. Of course he couldn’t shoot her from that distance, but it wouldn’t be hard to catch up. At one point she turned around to look around and was about to give up when she apparently spotted him. Dan couldn’t hear her reaction but he saw her scramble harder up the slope, sending loose rocks and dirt tumbling down. If she slipped she would tumble herself far enough to make her recovery unlikely. But she seemed to keep her soft bare feet planted on the ground and she nearly crawled up the slope.

Dan jogged over to the base of the ridge. She was out of sight now, but he figured she was much closer now. He could make it up a lot faster than she could. Only the last portion would be tough. It occurred to him that she could hide and try to attack him while he was climbing. It seemed unlikely. She was kind of stupid, or at least slow witted. Perhaps in life she was useful for something, but out here she was emotionally the perfect game animal. She cried better than the others, and her heaving sobs made her flesh jiggle better too. If only she was a better challenge. Maybe if she tried to ambush him it would make things more interesting.

That thought was on his mind as he scrambled up the last, steepest part of the slope. He was in the middle of it, going up hand over foot, when suddenly Brenda appeared ten feet away. She was breathing hard, with tears flowing down her face, but she held a fairly large rock in both hands, holding it over her head.

“Really?” he asked.

“I’ll kill you!” she screamed.

“No, of course you won’t. You’ll miss. You don’t even know how to hold a rock. You’re really that stupid? I’m standing here at point blank range, and you’re still going to miss. And then I’m going to stuff rocks and dirt up your ass and rape you until you bleed, because you’re such a fucking stupid twat that you can’t even handle a rock!”

She was crying harder, but when Dan began moving again she hurled the rock down. It hit the ground less than five feet from her, her having released it too late from her grip. It rolled past Dan harmlessly, though some pebbles hit his hands. Brenda’s facial expression collapsed in horror as he crawled up the last part of the slope. Only too late did she turn to flee, but it was a wasted effort. Once Dan was on his feet again he easily caught up, grabbed her hair, and yanked her backwards. She landed on her soft ass, and then fell to her side as he landed a solid kick to her side.

“That was actually interesting, whore,” Dan said as he kicked her again. Brenda screamed and tried to roll or crawl away, but she seemed unable to decide which. “I should reward you for giving me some slight entertainment.” Another kick to her head sent her reeling again. “But you attacked a man, and that’s just wrong.”

“Please!” she shrieked, but it only pissed him off. Did she really think begging was going to save her? Was she that naive? Apparently so.

He stopped kicking her long enough to get his pants off so he could fuck the bitch again. She had no power to stop him as he plunged into her soft but injured pussy. Her wiggling was nice, though, and her sobs divine. He lasted a good long while, having just fucked her not so long ago. It wasn’t a big load that he dumped in her, but at least it took some time.

When he was done he sat and watched as Brenda slowly tried to crawl away from him. She couldn’t even stand, but somehow she believed she was leaving? Like he was just going to sit there for something like a week while she moved like a snail? He let her get more than a hundred feet away, further along the ridge. Then he got up and walked lazily over to her. She weakly fought back as he flipped her onto her belly and grabbed a handful of dirt and rocks. He considered opening her anus with a knife blade, but he did want it to close up again, so he used a duller attachment of his pocket knife to pry her apart and shove a bunch of soil into her guts.

When that was done she just lay there, weeping. Dan looked down at her in disgust, spitting on her to make a point about her value in the world. He realized that she was not going to last another round. He could give her a week and she wouldn’t make it out of his sight. Instead, he grabbed her legs by her ankles. “This is how you throw not like a fucking girl!” he snarled at her before starting to swing her around. It was like a barrel toss. He swung her with her head nearly hitting the ground but she was angled upwards at the right part of the throw when he let go. Brenda’s body flew through the air, over the edge of the steeper ridge, before hitting the steep slope some distance below. Her screams continued after the first bounce but not the second. She slid and rolled and bounced to the bottom. Dan went back a ways to find a safer route down to the bottom.

He reached her five or ten minutes later. She was still breathing, but bleeding all over. Her eyes were open, but he didn’t know if she saw him.

“If you can hear me, I’m not ending it for you. Don’t mind me if I stay to watch, though.” He didn’t get a response. It took another twenty minutes for her breathing to stop and her pulse to cease. Never one to be careless, only then did Dan use his .357 to put a bullet through her brain.

He pulled out his phone and speed dialed.

“What’s up, Dan?” Glenn answered.

“I’m done with Pudge girl. Mind if I join you?”

“Where are you?”

“Did you hear a shot a minute ago?”

“Nope?”

“Then I’m some ways away. Want a GPS readout?”

“I don’t really care, Dan. You had your girl, I have mine. I intend to enjoy her. By myself.”

“Come on, what am I supposed to do?”

“Go back to camp and read a book. Goodbye.”
4
Forced Sex Stories / Bambi Redux
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:53:17 PM »
This is a sequel to Lost Hunted Girl and Copycat.

Bambi Redux
(M/f, rape, nc, torture, extreme, snuff, slave, bondage, torture,  violent)

Ch. 1 Planning to Fix a Lingering Issue

“What was her name?” the one called Dan asked, and TJ knew he meant her. She shivered, knowing the doctor had his mind on her.

“TJ here? Jeanette, something. Who can remember these things.” He turned his head down, locking eyes with TJ. “What was your last name, girl?”

“Wright, master,” she said, trying to get the correct tone. Six years of directed hell hadn’t yet shown her a way to dodge his wrath.

“Why TJ?” Cross asked.

“I keep telling you guys, her name is Twat-Juice now. TJ is cuter.”

“Well forgive me for not getting here earlier!” Cross snapped.

“What’s your name, girl?” Dan asked.

“I’m Twat-Juice, sir,” she replied in the same tone.

“That name’s right out of a high school locker room, Glenn. What’s up?” Cross asked.

“My bitch, my name. She seemed too reserved.”

“At least you have a bitch,” Dan said with an edge of anger in his voice. “Or three.”

TJ was on her hands and knees by Dan’s chair, his beer resting on her naked back. She didn’t dare twitch, not after losing both pinky fingers over a spilled Pepsi. The other new girl, as TJ still thought of her, was at the doctor’s chair. Carrie Robinson, the most beaten and broke of the three, knelt by agent Stone.

“Not this again,” Cross grumbled.

“Not what again?” the doctor asked. “Enlighten me.”

“Would a fucking phone call have been too much for you guys?” Dan asked. “You know I’d have dropped anything to rejoin you guys.”

“There wasn’t time!” Cross nearly exploded. “We didn’t hunt them. They came to us!”

Indeed, as TJ well remembered. Her good deed in trying to help find the killer of her cousin Patty had been punished only a thousand times over. Only she ended up in the medical hell and the other two, presumably, were years dead now.

“Ten fucking digits, man. Ten buttons on the phone.”

“And don’t fucking whine to me about lost opportunities!” Cross shouted, standing up, prompting Dan to do the same. “Look at this face!” he said, pointing to his own. “You got any fucking idea what unlicensed Mexican plastic surgery is like? Got a clue in there somewhere?”

“Sit down,” the doctor said. Cross reluctantly followed Dan’s lead in seating himself. “The past is past. Where is Brenda Atkins now?”

“Cooling her heels in my cellar.” Dan said. “She ain’t going anywhere.”

“That didn’t strike you as mildly retarded?” Cross asked. “Taking the same fucking girl that got away sixteen years ago?”

“No one has made the connection,” the doctor said.

“How do you know, Glenn? What makes you sure?”

“Because I’m careful,” he replied. “I have people, don’t ask me who, that periodically check the whereabouts of Brenda, Abby, and Tina. I made some calls yesterday, and those two are still living their blissful little lives.”

“And what was going to come after Brenda?” Cross asked. “One might go unnoticed, but not two, and then they’d all be all over this case again.”

“The past is past,” the doctor said again. “The only question is what we do about it.”

There was a silence in the room. TJ’s mind, long enfeebled, was racing again. The other girls were alive! Somehow they’d survived. And lived their lives, leaving her alone with the doctor. Did they even know about the doctor? Had they seen him?

“It boils down to risk management,” the doctor said. “Sooner or later the Atkins woman’s disappearance will come back to the Bambi Murders. They haven’t cracked it yet, but those two sluts cost Stone his life. We don’t have an airtight barrier on this one.”

“We should do the two whores,” Dan said. “Don’t let them open their yaps again.”

“Where are Abby Devers and Tina Pham?” Cross asked.

“Los Angeles for the Pham girl, and Madison Wisconsin for Abby,” the doctor said. “Tina’s a physical therapist. She’s still in therapy herself.”

“What about Abby?”

“She’s, shall we say, adapted herself to the possibility of another hunt,” the doctor replied. “She’s reached an impressive belt level in karate, done some outdoor survival training, works out like a demon in the gym.”

“She went all Sarah Connor on you,” Dan said with a chuckle.

“How good is she?” Cross asked.

“I can’t pry that hard and be unnoticed,” the doctor said.

“Huh,” Cross said, lost in thought.

“What do you think, Ben? Waste them or hunt them again?”

“It would be prudent to just make then vanish,” Cross replied. “That would be prudent.”

“Indeed.”

“Is that why we formed the fab five?” Dan asked. “To be prudent?”

“Can your sluts survive without you?” Cross asked.

“I leave them dog food when I go. They survive or not.”

“Then let’s do it. Let’s finish it up,” Cross said. “Grab both at once and let the Bambi murders be done with once and for all.”

“Yes!” Dan said with glee while the doctor nodded his assent. TJ resigned herself to another period of living on kibble with the other two. They were all that was left after their fourth, Bubbles, had gone missing a couple months earlier, gone without a word from the doctor about where. She didn’t have long to wait. The men acted quickly, and TJ found herself with the other slave girls in the holding cell with a fifty-pound bag of chow to last them as long as it could.

Ch. 2 A Reunion Takes Place

Abby’s foggy brain failed to register her predicament. All her knowledge of drugs didn’t help when her mind was still clouded by them. She stirred, blinking fast in the bright light. There was grass under her, but she shouldn’t be able to feel it it seemed. But she did. The figure next to her seemed to be naked and familiar to her as it stirred too. Was someone else nearby?

The effects wore off quickly for both. Abby first recognized Tina. They hadn’t seen each other in five years. In a moment she remembered that Tina naked outdoors was the wrong sight. Herself naked outdoors was the wrong situation. Horror suddenly hit her hard in her gut as her brain pieced together the parts of the puzzle. Tina seemed to react the same, but unlike Abby, Tina let out a long, chilling, terrified scream of realization.

In moments the two helpless girls realized they were chained at their feet, hands cuffed behind their backs, and being watched by three amused men. They were in a field of tall grass in a vast outdoor region unlike that they’d experienced before. Another woman was there, also naked, sitting against a lone tree with her arms behind her, presumably tied or cuffed. Duct tape over her mouth kept her cried muffled.

Abby recognized Cross first, but didn’t know the other two. Tina was still screaming. Abby remembered her training, mental and physical. Somehow, though, she hadn’t really believed any of the men would come after her again. But there one of them was right there, presumably with his friends.

“You won’t get amusement from me again, you sick bastards,” she said. She was shaking, but in some control of herself.

“Maybe it will be a better challenge,” Cross said. “You were fairly pathetic last time. A whining, self-pitying, incredibly stupid piece of girl meat.”

“I beat you guys.”

“This doesn’t interest us,” one of the other men said. He ripped off a piece of tape and pressed it to Abby’s lips. She opened her jaw to dislodge it, but he applied more, and wrapped it around her head, getting tape in her hair.

“Do her too,” the other man said, cocking his thumb at Tina. Soon both girls were silenced. The men dragged them over to the woman at the tree.

“Okay, maybe you’ve figured it out,” Cross said. “You three bitched defied us once. We set this up as a hunt, but you were supposed to lose. And you will. And if not this time, then the next time we or our partners catch you.”

“You’ll all die by violence!” the other one said.

Abby pondered the three of them. Her heart was pounding with fear, but she’d trained herself hard to keep in control. She tried to get a feel for the men.

Cross was the only known quantity. He looked different. More than just the six years had changed him. But it was him, and his voice was certainly unchanged. What had he been up to? How had he eluded the law? He was a lawman running from the law. Had he lost his calm edge?

One was nervous. No, not nervous. Impatient. He was Cross’s age, but edgy and twitchy. She decided in an instant that he would be the easiest to outsmart but the least predictable if he captured her.

The last one gave her pause. By nature or practice, his steely gaze chilled her and made her lose heart. He didn’t seem to even blink except by a plan.

“Let’s divvy them up,” Twitchy said.

“Which one do you want?” Steely asked.

“Hold on,” Cross interrupted. “Not so fast. They aren’t going anywhere fast. And it’s almost night.”

“This is correct,” Steely replied. “We can catch and release them tomorrow. For now...”

His voice trailed off, but his meaning was clear. “Let’s get them back to the camp,” Twitchy said. The others nodded. They untied the older woman from the tree and dragged the three helpless girls over a mound and about a hundred yards to their camp nearby.

Tina was freaking out in her chains, thrashing about in a blind panic. The other woman was likewise hysterical. Abby desperately tried not to be, but when she found herself lying on the grass in a corner of the camp looking out at Steely she felt her will crumbling. He was just staring down at her, towering above her, with a look of cold control on his face. When he got undressed, his cock sprang up at once, angry and throbbing and ready to stab at her.

He knelt down and pulled the layers of tape from her mouth. It formed a loop around her head, but he lowered the front part down to her neck.

“W-who are you?” she asked, already failing to keep her composure.

“Our names don’t matter,” he said. “I’m your doctor, and that’s enough.”

“Please, you don’t have to do this to us!”

“That’s such a trite thing to say. You must not be very smart if you believe such an observation matters.”

“Why then!” she sobbed, shaking in terror. She pulled at her cuffs, but they held fast. She was in no position to resist whatsoever.

“Fun, girl. It’s fun.” He then flipped her over onto her belly. She felt his kneel between her legs, pushing them apart. She was strong now, much more than before. But she couldn’t stop him. She felt his cock head sliding around her ass crack, seeking her anus. He was rubbing something on it, and then in her ass, sliding his hand between her buttocks to grease her up. Then she felt the stabbing pain of something sliding through her anus the wrong way. She cried out, clenching helplessly.

And then she couldn’t breathe. There was a cord around her neck, the doctor holding each end and squeezing the breath out of her.

“Yes, choke for me, Abby,” he said gently as his cock ground up her ass and her airway crushed under the pressure. He let up only enough to let her gasp single breaths at a time. She struggled mightily to get air, the painful anal rape almost forgotten as he waited thirty, forty, even fifty seconds between breaths. Tears of terror ran down Abby’s cheeks. All her preparation had been useless. She was a rape victim again, the worst feeling in the world. “Choke like a whore!”

With her head swimming in a haze Abby didn’t even feel his cum shooting up her rectum until he finally removed the cord from around her neck. She lay coughing and gasping on the ground, shivering in her cuffs. She didn’t lie on the ground for long. The doctor grabbed her by her hair and dragged her to a tree. There, he used a locking collar and a chain leash to secure her to the trunk, not bothering to remove the cuffs that already held her hogtied. He did apply the tape to her mouth once more. Again Abby lay on the ground, recovering and listening to Tina and the other woman being raped and beaten by Cross and the other man.

Apparently the other men were more thorough than the doctor because Abby was by herself for a while. Their cries of distress haunted her, especially Tina’s, but they also motivated her to get her head together. For the first time since waking up she had a chance to actually think. Several thoughts slowly entered her head.

The first was that the doctor was preparing for bed, but it wasn’t dark. She looked around at what she could see of the landscape. It was very, very wild. How far north, she wondered, were they? Had these men taken them all the way to Alaska to hunt them again? It would make sense. Once the cops matched her disappearance with Tina’s, it would be logical to re-open the Bambi murder case. And what of the other woman? Now Abby recognized her, though the last pictures she’d seen had been ten years old six years ago. It had to be Brenda Atkins, the only survivor of the first wave of killings. It was very hard for Abby to resist the wave of self-pity and despair that wanted to wash over her. Why now? Why again? In six years Abby had made no move to find the men. She’d only tried to prepare herself if they came for her, which they did anyway and made her efforts useless.

Despite only waking from her drugging a few short hours before, Abby’s body was still apparently in synch with the sun, and as the sun fell low on the horizon she became tired enough to sleep after a fashion. She woke when Tina and when Brenda were brought to the same tree and chained up. Like her they were heavily chained and gagged. Abby forced herself to sleep – Tina was still beyond communication. She’d spent enough time over the years forcing herself to sleep in strange environments and adverse conditions. Now that, at least was paying off, and she didn’t let the long continuing sobs of the other two prey distract her at all.

Ch. 3 The Hunters Establish Preliminaries For the Girls

There was no real way to know when morning came. It was only really dark for a couple hours, and Abby knew that meant they were way up north, close to the arctic circle. It meant that as bad as their chances of rescue had been once before, they were twenty times worse now. No group of fishing physicians would rescue her from death this time.

Everyone was asleep when Abby felt herself too awake to continue. She wondered if she could free herself. The men were not at all far away, though, and sleeping in the open. Rather than try to examine her own bonds, Abby slid over enough to examine Brenda’s, assuming they were the same. It did not look good for her. Brenda’s legs were cuffed with solid metal manacles and chains of professional judicial quality. The handcuffs were comparable. That left the collar and leash, but again Abby was disappointed. It looked like leather, but she recognized it as having internal metallic strands, making it flexible but very tough. The leash was a chain and attacked with a standard padlock, something she could pick if she had the means, but she had no means. Short of hacking through the tree trunk with a rock, there was nothing the girls could do to escape. There wasn’t even a rock around.

Abby wanted to wake Tina and try to talk to her, to see if she remembered their hastily constructed plan from so long ago before they went their separate ways. Abby remembered it clearly enough. If ever they were recaptured and hunted again, a fear both girls had when they learned that Cross was still at large, then both would run two miles and then Abby would turn left and Tina right and traverse a circle until they met up.  It was hardly a plan of escape, but at least it would get them together again and it was simple to implement.

Tina looked little worse for wear. She was bruised up a bit from Twitchy’s attentions. Dan, that was his name. The doctor, Glenn, had called him that. It was Glenn, who was a terrifying doctor, Ben Cross, the former FBI special agent, and Dan, about whom Abby could learn little except that he deferred to Cross and Glenn most of the time. And then there were others. Cross had said so, and it was plausible. Abby herself had always feared there was another. There was no other way to account for Jeanette Wright’s disappearance six years earlier. Which of them had it been? The doctor? Dan? If it had been the doctor then Abby feared for the worst for the woman who had helped Tina and paid the ultimate price for it.

The horrible possibilities were swirling around in Abby’s mind, making her shiver in growing terror. She knew she couldn’t possible keep herself together if she thought too much about what might happen later. She needed to focus. Alas, lying chained and naked in the Alaskan frontier was no way to put danger out of her mind. So she pondered and felt her fear.

The other girls didn’t sleep well either, and in time they were whimpering through their taped mouths. Brenda seemed to be the worst off. Sixteen years separated her nightmare experience from the present, but now it was back and she was unprepared. Abby saw that while Tina was still in as good shape as during college, Brenda was not. She was a short, pudgy woman with pale, soft skin. She was cute enough, not that it appeared to matter much, but though she was older than Abby or Tina, she was still younger than the men.

Their sobs woke the men. Cross was the first on his feet, and he stormed over to the three helpless women. “Trying to escape, are we?” he asked, checking their chains. He grunted something to himself seeing that they were intact. He was about to turn away when he suddenly let his foot fly, connecting hard with Abby’s belly. She screamed into her gag, doubling over as much as her chained body would allow her. “Dumb fucking whore,” he said before returning to the campsite. His actions had woken Dan and the doctor.

“What time is it?” Dan asked.

“Close enough,” Cross said. “About a quarter to six.”

Dan got up, revealing morning wood poking through his shorts. He stumbled over to Brenda, yanked her up by her hair and ripped the tape from her mouth. Then he pulled down his shorts and stuck his boner in her face. “Well, get to it, slut face!” he shouted, slapping her hard across her face. While Brenda serviced the man, Abby and Tina exchanged glanced. Neither could speak yet. Tina made a slight nod, moving her eyes to indicate something outside the camp. Abby couldn’t be sure, but she took it to mean Tina remembered their plan. Abby, of course, had trained much in the years since, but she wanted to protect and gain the aid of her old friend.

Dan shot his load down Brenda’s gullet soon enough and then the men cooked up a breakfast for themselves. None of the girls expected anything, though their stomachs were rumbling already. The smell of bacon and fresh coffee was enough by itself to make Abby want to cry again. It wouldn’t help, and she fought off the urge.

When the hunters had done their morning chores, they turned to the three girls. They released the girls’ collars and leg cuffs and stood them up. They freed their mouths from the tape. They still wore their handcuffs.

“Well now, I suppose you whores know the basic idea,” the doctor said. “Only the specifics remain, right?”

In a moment Cross stepped toward them and punched Abby hard across her face. She cried out in agony but remained standing. “That wasn’t a fucking rhetorical question, you bitches. Right?”

“Yes, sir,” Tina finally said.

“We have decided who is hunting whom,” the doctor said. “You yourselves will learn this through trial and error. Abby, you will be released to run in that direction,” he said, pointing north. “Tina will go that way,” indicating south east, “And Brenda that way.” They had the girls going out with hundred twenty degree angular separation. It meant Abby and Tina, if they followed their plan, would have to traverse a long circle to meet up, and risked encountering Brenda’s hunter as well.

“There’s the slight matter of odds,” Cross barked at them. “Abby here chose to cheat. She’s prepared herself. She’s taken self defense and survival skills training.”

Abby’s blood froze. How could they possibly know that? How could they know anything like that? To find her was one thing. To know how she’d spent her life? The reasons were too horrible to contemplate.

“See it’s like this,” Dan said. “We hunt you, and you’re supposed to die like the sluts you are. There’s a chance of survival, as you all know, but you really aren’t supposed to do it. You whores all cheated once.”

“Getting back to Abby,” Cross said, “She cheated more. So she plays with a penalty.” Quickly and before any of the girls could react, Cross pulled out his pistol and shot a round from it into Abby’s right foot. Abby screeched in burning agony as the bullet tore through skin and bone. It hit by her toes, blasting off her pinky toe entirely. With her hands cuffed as they were she couldn’t even hold her foot. She could only hop on her other foot, screaming in pain.

Brenda was clearly so frightened that she pissed herself right where she stood. Tina kept better control, but couldn’t control her mouth. “Stop it!” she screamed at them.

“Shut the fuck up,” the doctor said to her.

Cross then holstered the pistol and went to first Tina and then Brenda, releasing their handcuffs. Abby’s stayed on her.

“There will be a single practice round for each of you,” the doctor said. “That’s it. We do, after all, want to fuck you bitches one last time. After that comes the death round. None of you will leave this region alive. I’ve got enough sluts back at my place and I don’t want cheaters there.”

“You’d best get running now,” Cross said. “Oh, yes, you get thirty minute head starts.”

It took Cross giving Brenda a shove to get the terrified women moving. Tina ran out the fastest on her strong runner’s legs. Brenda stumbled away on her soft feet. As for Abby, she too stumbled along as she ran. She waited until she was out of sight of the men to step over her cuffs so her hands were now in front of her. She’d spent many long sessions stretching to be able to manage it, but the memory of waddling away with her cuffed hands looped under her crotch had been a good inducement. Now with her hands still restrained but usefully in front of her, she ran as well as she could on her bleeding foot. Everything was turning into a disaster for her. She might scrounge food as she was, but she couldn’t hope to defend herself. So failing to fight back tears, she ran for her life into the bush and prayed for some kind of salvation.

Ch. 4 Rock Bottom Back at the Doctor’s House

TJ found herself looking with disgust at the newly opened bag of dog food. It was just dry kibble in a big bag, though the slaves had the option of mixing it with water from their toilet bowl. The major problem was that it had already gotten wet sometime in the past, and now the chunks were covered in a green fuzz. It was their only food source.

Carrie, who went by the name Cunty Galore now, was pulling at her hair and squealing in a frantic, high-pitched expression of distress at the problem. Cunty didn’t speak much anymore. She’d been there far longer than TJ or the other new girl, assigned the name Boobalicious even if she’d been born Mary Allen. Bubbles had been her friend for years but was now missing and Cunty hadn’t been the same since.

Now the three slaves were locked up in a cell only eight feet square with a cement floor, no furnishings, no bedding, and no edible food. Aside from the three naked female bodies, the prison-style toilet was the only fixed item in the room. The cell itself was brick walled on three sides, but a door made entirely of iron bars was set in the fourth wall made entirely of more bars. Beyond it was a viewing area where the doctor and occasional guests could view the cell occupants.

“What are we going to do now?” Boobalicious wailed. “Does he want us to die?”

“Us to die,” Cunty repeated, sniffing at the fuzzy kibble like an animal. “Die now.”

“No, no,” TJ sobbed. She imagined he would be gone for several days at least, maybe more. “The bag was sealed. He didn’t plan it.”

Cunty curled up in the corner, mumbling to herself. TJ feared she was beyond helpfulness. She’d been tortured so badly for so long that her mind was shot.

“How long can we live?” Boobalicious asked. “Without food? We’ll die!”

“Weeks, maybe,” TJ said. “We have water. We can last weeks.”

Boobalicious broke down in sobs, and TJ was hard put not to join her. The doctor always kept them barely alive. If he expected them to just make it with the bag of dog food and they couldn’t eat it, they could be doomed. The three doomed girls stared at the bag of fuzzy, ruined food.

Without daylight they couldn’t know the passage of time. When alone in the basement the slaves usually fell into a timeless trance. It could have been a day. Maybe more. TJ only knew that her belly was hurting from the hunger.

“I don’t care!” Boobalicious screamed, throwing herself at the pile and stuffing handfulls into her mouth.

“No! Don’t!” TJ screamed. “Mary, don’t eat it!” She lunged at her friend, but got a harsh elbow in her face, knocking her to the side. She cried out in pain, tasting blood and feeling teeth where they shouldn’t be. She watched in stunned horror as her slave companion sucked in the poisonous, revolting dog food, screaming and giggling as she did so.

“Help me stop her!” she screamed to Cunty, but the other girl was just sitting, rocking herself back and forth. “Carrie! Please!” It was no use. She lunged again, but a kick to her ribs stopped her just as quickly. She lay shaking on the floor, trying to breath again and finding it painful. She didn’t try to sit up again. She could only watch with tears in her eyes as her friend gorged herself. The frenzy lasted more than ten minutes before Mary suddenly stiffened and clutched her stomach. Her breathing grew labored as she lay down on her side.

TJ couldn’t summon the strength to sit up, and she feared her ribs might be broken. She could only watch as her friend convulsed and then projectile vomited all over the cell floor. There was blood in the puke. The poor girl continued heaving and coughing up more blood. TJ didn’t know of food poisoning causing bloody vomit, but all the girls were severely weakened by their years of gross abuse at the doctor’s inhuman hands.

Boobalicious continued convulsing for more than an hour. By then TJ could crawl to her but do nothing except watch as her breathing grew faint and labored and finally stopped altogether. TJ desperately tried to find a pulse but found nothing. Her friend had died in front of her. It wasn’t the first time in TJ’s six years of captivity that such a thing had happened, but this time was almost as shocking and horrifying as the first time it had happened. Now she was trapped in a tiny cell with poisoned food, vomit all over the floor, and a crazy girl. TJ laid herself down on the floor, unmindful of the puke, and cried for a very long time. She was then silent for an even longer time and she pondered just lying there forever. She didn’t have to drink from the toilet, after all. She could just let death take her. It couldn’t be worse dying of thirst than living in the doctor’s hell any longer.

In the unchanging light of the cell it no longer mattered how long TJ was lying in filth. She was thus very surprised to feel a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was Cunty.

“Not all gone,” Cunty said. “Nope.”

“What?”

“Not crazy yet,” Cunty said. “Escape now. Or die, okay? Get out. Time to end it, okay?”

“Okay,” TJ said.

“I’m Carrie,” she said. “You Jeanette.”

“Yes. Carrie and Jeanette,” Jeanette said. “If we die, we do it as women.”

They sat up, looking at the bars and bricks around them. There had to be a way out. Making noise wasn’t an issue. And if the doctor came back and found them trying to bust out, they could just make him kill them. Except, of course, that wasn’t possible. No one made him do anything. So it was leave or die.

Ch. 5 Interlude for Conversation

Three hunters sat at the camp, waiting for the clock to reach zero. “We’re going to share your three girls when we get back, right?” Dan asked.

“Yeah, sure. But I have four of the females,” Glenn answered.

“I only saw three though.”

“That would be because the other one wasn’t out.”

“What’s up with that?” Cross asked.

“Bubbles, formerly known as Erin Matthews, is doing some sensory deprivation. She’s on a long drip IV.”

“Cool,” Dan said. “How long?”

“Four and a half weeks now. No light, no sound, no nothing. She’s buried so deep under my basement even the other sluts don’t know she’s there.”

“Man, that’s real sick stuff,” Cross said, finishing loading his clip. “If you’re not even fucking them...”

“It’s the principle,” Glenn said calmly. “So, it’s almost time. We need to actually pick our prey now. Random?”

“Sure,” Dan said.

“Fine, fine,” Cross replied. “Flip? Odd coin gets first pick?”

They each took a quarter from their pockets and flipped, letting the coins land on the ground. The first throw yielded all tails, but on the second flip Cross got tails to the others’ two heads.”

“Which one, Ben?”

“The jungle cunt. She got away last time. Never again.”

“Alright, good reasoning there,” Glenn said. He turned to Dan. “Rock paper scissors?”

“Sure.” Their first hand produced Dan’s paper covering Glenn’s rock. “Yes!” Dan crowed. “The Dan man wins again!”

“Which is it, then?” Glenn asked. “The old bitch or the nosy girl?”

“Pudge girl. And she’s not that old. She’s only thirty six.”

“Pudge girl? And you want her?”

“More cushion for the pushin’. She’s cute, and she cries cute.”

“Alright. I wanted to get my hands on nosy girl anyway,” Glenn said. “It would seem we have a plan. What’s the time?”

Cross glanced at the clock. “We gave them thirty-three minutes already.”

“Ain’t we nice?” Dan said. “They won’t even appreciate it.”

“No matter,” Cross said. He picked up his rifle and his backpack. “Gentlemen, I’ll see you in a few days or so.” He headed off in the direction Tina had run. The other two were soon on their way as well. The camp was left behind, but with nothing of value in it. Their helicopter was hidden nearby and would be fine without them. Even if Abby had learned to fly it would do her no good to have a chopper with parts missing, currently well-hidden several hundred yards away.

Cross set a good pace. He knew that Tina would be the fastest of the three, but he had tracked her before. He could do it again. Glenn’s surveillance suggested nothing about her taking survival training or even going camping. It was going to be fun and very satisfying to hunt her again. The days in Mexico hadn’t been enough. She had more suffering to do, and he was the one to make her do it.

Sure enough she had left an easy enough trail to follow. This was going to be very, very easy.

Ch. 6 How One Prey Proved Easy to Catch

Brenda stumbled along, suffering terrifying flashbacks from sixteen years before as she did. She couldn’t stop herself from crying, even knowing that sound might lead one of them to her. She was in no shape for a hunt and she knew it well. She could not believe she would survive it a second time.

Still, it had been hours since their release and she hadn’t seen any of them yet. She was just going in a straight line with a few zigs and zags to keep her attackers from following to easily. She came to a brook and knelt down to take some water. As she was sipping from her cupped hands she felt the sting in her fleshy buttocks. She turned her head back and saw, to her immediate horror, the needle protruding from her ass. She pulled it out, but felt herself growing weak. She fell to her side, still awake but increasingly unable to move her muscles. By the time one of the men got there, the one that had kidnapped her and put her in his basement, Dan, she couldn’t so much as wiggle her toes.

With his foot Dan pushed her onto her back. Her head lolled to one side until he nudged it back to stare up at him. She’d have screamed had she been able, but instead she could only stare up at him.

“You see, the benefit of chasing you is that you’re so fucking slow and predictable that I get to spend more time fucking you and hurting you. You look like you’ve got enough padding to take some real punishment, too.”

Brenda was desperate but pliant as he staked her to the ground in the rough, wild grass. She could feel the ropes biting into her skin. So far she couldn’t struggle, but when she could she would get nowhere from it. With her secured, Dan put down his stuff and got partially undressed. There was still a nip in the air. But his cock was ready for her. Rather than fuck her cunt he sat down over her face, sliding the tip of his cock all over her mouth and nose and eyes. It was already leaking some pre-cum onto her. When he slid it into her mouth, he grabbed her hair and began face fucking her by holding himself still and jerking her head around. His shaft was down her throat often, cutting off her air, but she couldn’t even cough.

“Oh yeah, bitch, suck it good. Oh, you can’t suck? Too fucking bad,” he said. Soon enough she felt his hot jism go down her throat, but he pulled back enough to shoot some into her mouth where she could taste it. She could not move to either spit or swallow, so it just sat in her mouth coating her tongue.

He was not yet done with his silent victim. He used his belt to strike her hard, swinging the buckle end at her repeatedly. Brenda silently screamed as the blows bruised and cut up her skin. He seemed to like the way her flesh wiggled when he hit a soft spot but Brenda wanted to just cry and crawl away. He paid extra attention to her fleshy cunt, turning it bright red from repeated blows.

As time went on the drug wore off, and Brenda slowly regained her power to move. Of course, being tied, she was motionless but she could finally scream as her torture continued. She could scream even more as he sat down on her belly and pulled out a long, sharp knife, which he held to her chest above her tits.

“What shall I carve, bitch?” he asked her. “My name? Hmm? No, we wouldn’t want anyone finding your body, would we? Too many questions. So what shall I carve, bitch?”

Brenda just lay sobbing in pain and terror. Dan punched her across her jaw. “Tell me what to carve into your tits, you fucking skank!” he shouted at her. “Tell me now!”

“I don’t know!” she wept. “Why? Why me?”

“Hmm,” he said. Then he pressed the blade to her chest and began making small, precise cuts to her skin. She shrieked like death, but it didn’t help her any. Dan proceeded to carve exactly those words, ‘I don’t know why why me?’ into her flesh, with the last lines cutting right into the tops of her breasts.

When he was done he got off her, and then slid a large nearby rock under her ass, lifting her crotch up for easier access. He slid the knife around her cunt and then alternated with her anus. “Which hole, bitch?” he asked. “Which hole do I stick this in?”

“No no no no!” she sobbed. “No no please!”

“Pick a hole, slut! Pick a hole or I’ll make a new one in you!”

“No! No, I’ll choose!” she sobbed, but as he slid the tip of the knife blade back and forth from her cunt to her ass she couldn’t answer. Both were unbearable to even think about, let alone experience. A knife up her cunt was as impossible to comprehend as a knife cutting into her anus.

“Well? Which one?”

“I can’t!” she sobbed. “I can’t! Please, don’t!”

He rolled his eyes. Then he slammed the blade into the back of her right leg, through her hamstring, all the way to the hilt. Brenda’s screams made her throat sore from the agony.

“Well look at that, bitch. You’re going to be even easier to catch in the death round,” he commented. He then scooped up dirt off the ground and used the knife grip to pound it into her vagina.

Brenda was too shattered to resist when he untied her, flipped her onto her belly, and rammed his cock up her ass. He pounded away at her for quite a while before shooting another load of cum into her. Finally he wrapped his arm around her waist and hurled her aside. She landed in a heap, retching and weeping on the ground. He got dressed and collected his gear.

“Tell you what, babe, I won’t handcuff you for the death round,” he told her. The words ‘death round’ made her feel chills. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

She stared at him, still sobbing, but didn’t speak. He moved closer to her and pulled the knife back out. “Thank me, bitch. Thank me like you mean it or I will handcuff you and stab one of your eyes out!”

“Thank you, sir,” she sobbed haltingly.

“Like you mean it!”

“Thank you, so much, sir. I don’t deserve your pity. Thank you for everything!”

It wasn’t really convincing, but she said it nonetheless and Dan seemed to accept it. “Think nothing of it, darling. Okay, you’ve got another thirty minutes. I suggest you make the most of them. Next time I see you I’m going to kill you.”

He pulled her to her feet, and Brenda limped away, in more pain than she ever thought she would feel again.

Ch. 7 Too Easy to be Fun

Abby ran as quickly as she could on her busted foot. Getting her hands in front of her helped, but it still slowed her pace a little to have them restrained as they were. Now she tried to think of what else she could do. In fact, little came to mind. The landscape was pretty open. Aside from tall grass and other vegetation, there was little cover. Few trees dotted the northern landscape, and though it was hilly there were not really any major geographic features to hide her. It meant that the men couldn’t herd her into a trap, but it also meant they could come at her in a straight line.

Once she was far enough away she tried to veer left right away. The plan to meet Tina would have them covering a long path anyway, and she didn’t want to have to wait to begin turning. Her best hope for staying hidden was to not go in a straight line anyway.

The bigger problem was that her foot was still bleeding from the gunshot. If her trampling the native flora didn’t make it easy to track her, the blood spots might. At least they didn’t have dogs with them. She wanted to stop and press on it but she didn’t dare. Not with only thirty minutes to get far away. Distance was her only hope.

It was a poor hope to rest her mind on. Limping, bleeding, and chained, Abby had no realistic hope of evading anyone. Worse, she realized in time that she’d been following a steady arc to the left, as easy to predict as a straight line and even easy to close distance on. She abruptly veered right, but had gone only a few minutes when she heard a shout from some distance behind her. She turned back and saw, on a low hilltop nearly a mile back, the doctor waving at her. She screamed and fled directly away from him. She saw him begin to run as well.

For the next twenty minutes or more Abby just ran in blind terror, but her foot was slowing her down more and more. It was in blinding pain from having her toe shot off, and her continued blood loss was making her feel cold. When she did dare to stop and look back she found that he had closed half the distance just by running after her. Fighting back tears Abby continued going, but loosing more and more speed until it finally took her an effort to make a step. She heard the footsteps behind her and saw him approaching her. It seemed he wouldn’t shoot her, even to knock her out. He didn’t have to. With each step an act of self-mutilation on her foot, Abby could only stumble away as the doctor calmly strode up to her, weapons holstered, and punched her across her face, sending her down to the ground.

“You’re a useless, un-amusing cunt, Abby,” he told her. “You provided no sport at all. None!” He kicked her on her belly, also mashing her hand in the process. “I thought I was getting the best challenge of the three of you, but I can’t believe even that chunky cow Brenda went down this easy. You’ve ruined the whole hunt!”

“I’m sorry!” she found herself sobbing. It was true, of course. She was sorry to herself for failing so fast. He leaned down to put a pair of cuffs on her feet. These he tied a rope to so he could drag her away by her feet over the open landscape. Abby, in a fit of terror, tried to grab onto anything she could just to stop him, but it was a futile gesture. There was nothing to grab onto, and when she got her hands on even a root or thick clump of grass the doctor just pressed a knife to her foot wound and the pain was enough to loosen Abby’s grip. He did not drag her far, though. There was a single, scraggly tree not far away, and it was large enough to be useful. He hoisted her up so she was dangling upside down. He also flipped the handcuffs back to behind her back.

Abby watched as he built a fire. As it came to life, he removed from his backpack a long, harsh whip. It looked extremely dangerous to Abby, and she soon learned she was correct. He swung it through the air near her several times, and then began landing it on her naked skin. She shrieked and jerked about as the first lash hit her body, but many more were to come. He had struck her at least a hundred times by the time he stopped to check the fire. By then Abby’s eyes were so tear-filled that she couldn’t watch him, and she was not even facing the correct direction. She did make out, twisting her neck to peer backwards, that he was carrying something long from the fire to her body.

He grabbed her feet, wrapping one arm around them and holding them pressed tightly to him before he pressed the long object to her open wound. The red-hot metal seared her flesh on the spot, making Abby buck and jerk around as violently as possible for the weak, helpless girl. His grip was good, though, and he held her tightly enough to cauterize her injury. “There,” he said. “At least you might be useful in the death round. And if not...” He finished by sliding his index finger along her throat.

Abby could only hang there with the blood rushing to her head, wondering if she could last that long. It soon grew worse for her, as the doctor began pummeling her body, seemingly using her as a punching and kickboxing bag. She cried out with each landed blow, feeling bruises forming all over. Within ten minutes he seemed to be getting a good workout, but as he avoided her head, Abby was very much awake and aware to feel it all.

Finally he grabbed her hair and pulled her head up to his crotch level. At some point he had gotten undressed, and Abby was facing, upside down, his rock hard prick and his balls hanging down over her nose.

“We haven’t even broken out the surgical toys, Abby,” he said. “Do it good and we won’t have to.”

Abby sucked the cock like she’d never sucked any other. She did everything she could with her tongue to induce pleasure in her torturer, ignoring the pain as her hair pulled at her scalp. The man had stamina, though, and she was getting tired just from blowing him by the time his coffee-odor cum shot into her mouth.

It seemed that was not to be it. He did not let her down. In fact he ignored her entirely and seemed to be intent on reading some kind of paperback novel while seated nearby. Abby’s pain made her moan quietly as she awaited her fate.

Ch. 8 The Girls Back Home Are Stuck for a While

Jeanette and Carrie had enough of their sanity back to use their own names. Carrie was still twitchy and mumbled to herself a lot, but she paid attention to her surroundings. Unfortunately for the two slaves, they were still locked in a small cell with a corpse, a vomit-coated floor, and no non-poisonous food to be found anywhere. Worse, Jeanette was sure her ribs were broken. Carrie had flung herself against the cell door. It was devilishly unyielding, though it seemed to be old and possibly not sturdy. It rattled enough to sound weak.

Yet it was not weak. She had been locked in it before. The door always rattled. The door never broke open.

As Jeanette saw Carrie staring at Mary’s body with hunger filled eyes, she too had the unwelcome thought that there was no food and that they would both continue to get hungry.

5
Forced Sex Stories / Re: Copycat
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:46:21 PM »
Epilogue A

Abby forgot to be astonished when she opened her eyes and found herself in a hospital bed. Only as her previous final memories returned did she realize how unlikely that was. She was still in pain, though. She was wrapped in heavy bandaging around her chest. She was in an ICU.

She learned soon enough that the police and the FBI were interested in her tale. They had a puzzling investigation on their hands and didn’t know what to make of it. Her mention of Stone and agent Cross proved to be of great interest. She was nearly inconsolable when she learned that Tina was nowhere to be found. The authorities hadn’t even realized she was part of the tale at all. Her worry would turn to muted joy when she learned the next day that Stone was arrested and Tina rescued in Mexico. But Abby had been comatose for eleven days and Tina had had a tough time of it during those missing days. The two men, Stone and Cross, had brutalized her with a fury the whole time right up until Stone got careless and her screams alerted local officials. Cross was nowhere to be found. Stone hung himself in the Mexican jail cell.

Abby survived only because the fishermen were doctors from Cheyenne, including a surgeon and an ER physician. She was eventually reunited with Tina, but she changed her major to elementary education and prayed every day that no angry father would challenge the grade she gave to a student.

Epilogue B

Jeanette opened her eyes in dim light and looked around. She thought she was in a theater first. Real rooms didn’t look like that. There were a half dozen nude girls in the large basement chamber. One she recognized, it was the blonde she’d encountered in the field. She was still unconscious, hanging upside down from a hook in the ceiling. Jeanette herself was spread eagled and chained leaning against a wall. Her feet were chained to the floor, spread wide, and her arms to the wall behind her, also widely spread.

The other girls – there were four more – were awake and looking at her. None made a sound. Each of them was thin and stared with vacant eyes at her. None were younger than thirty from the look of them. Jeanette’s mind raced. Were there other victims of the Bambi murders, survivors, that no one even knew about? How long had these zombie like girls been locked in the room?

“I’m Jeanette,” she said in barely more than a whisper.

“What year is it?” one woman asked. She was sitting in a steel cage, kneeling, crammed inside a space barely large enough to fit her. Another girl was upside down and spread eagled, hanging from the ceiling. One was hogtied and hanging from her hands and feet, her back bent painfully backwards. The last was clamped to a large, heavy wooden chair. There were clamps and needles decorating her body.

“Jeanette Wright,” she said. Her mind was rebelling. If she stuck to her name, she wouldn’t have to deal with the question the cage girl just asked and its horrifying ramifications.

“I’m Carrie Robinson,” the girl said slowly.

Jeanette’s mind whirled. The name sounded familiar. Very familiar. “Do I know you?” she asked.

“We don’t know anybody,” Carrie said slowly. “What year is it? It was 1991, when he took me. When they chased me. It was 1991. What year is it?”

Jeanette trembled, trying not to put the pieces together. She remembered now, Carrie Robinson was the girl one town over, who vanished when Jeanette was in high school. Upstairs, her screaming alerted the doctor, who had in fact lost his medical license under disturbing conditions, that she was awake. He smiled, grabbed his box of goodies, and headed downstairs.
6
Forced Sex Stories / Re: Copycat
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:45:41 PM »
Ch. 11

Abby ran, but her heart was no longer in it. She realized how very helpless she was and that escape would probably be impossible. No one knew where she was or that she was even missing. Tina would eventually notice she hadn’t returned. Until then, she was naked, handcuffed, weak, lost, and had no realistic way to escape. She’d run around at random, avoiding rivers and high ground. But the land was terribly monotonous, and she had no idea where to go. Even with the sun shining, she couldn’t even remember to keep track of her direction! She was utterly useless in the wilderness. So she ran and sobbed and doubled back and tried not to trip and fall. She’d stumbled several times already, and plummeting face first onto rough ground with her hands cuffed behind her was a terrifying and painful experience.

She was making her way through a pine grove when she heard a movement. It was nearby. She froze. She wasn’t in the death round. Not yet. But she would still do anything to avoid capture again. Then she heard a slow but deliberate sound of a human footstep, coming from only a short distance to her right. She panicked, screamed, and fled the other direction. Almost at the same time she heard another scream. It was female. It came from the footstep. She stopped and turned, and was confronted by the last sight she expected to see. It was Tina, as naked and abused as she was. For a moment the girls stared at each other, uncomprehending, but it was Tina who finally broke the tension, crying and laughing as they came together.

“What’s happened?” Abby cried, looking Tina over. She looked much like Abby did. She was bruised, scraped up, and very tired looking. The only difference was that Tina’s hands were cuffed in front of her rather than behind as Abby’s were.

“Don’t you realize it? I’m here to rescue you!” Tina replied. “Let’s walk and talk.” Abby walked with her friend, listening in shocked silence as Tina described her trip up, her encounters, and how she’d been released from Stone’s camp that morning and evaded him all day long.

“My God! They started with you even before they did with me!”

“But I still don’t know where to go,” Tina said. “It’s almost nightfall now. I think we’re going to spend the night out here.”

“At least it will be cooler,” Tina said.

“You really were knocked out last night. It’s damned cold at night! Think of back in Tucson, but offset twenty degrees downward.”

“Oh god, how are we going to survive?”

“We’ll make it. It’s a sign, us meeting like this. It has to be. But let’s keep moving. Don’t stop until we have to. We’re together now, but we’ve also got two men chasing us. Either one of them could catch us, and we’d be screwed.”

“No, listen. Remember? They only chase their own. Tina, listen, if we meet one of them, don’t be a hero. Whoever of us isn’t being chased needs to get out of here and get help. Or at least stay out of sight.”

“You’re right,” Tina said. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The girls continued on until it was too dark to go further. They were lucky enough to find a tiny stream to drink out of, but neither girl had eaten for some time. They were cold, hungry, and in perpetual fear when they finally laid down on the hard ground together, pressed tight for warmth, to try to pass the night.

They were a couple of sore, shivering girls when they got up in the morning. “At least your hands are in front of you,” Abby sniffed.

“They weren’t. I managed to step over the cuffs. Maybe you can too.”

“I tried,” Abby said. “I couldn’t do it. I’m not limber enough. I’m too fat!”

“You need some help then. It’s hard to do it without leverage. Okay, lie down and try to get your hands down by your feet. Lie on your back. Then lift your feet up to me and I’ll push them down so you can get your hands under.”

“Okay,” Abby said. She had to struggle to get her chained wrists down past her hips. She certainly hadn’t been out in the wild long enough to lose much weight. It was trickier than the girls planned for Tina to push Abby’s legs down while she was on her back. With some effort, though, they managed to get her right foot over the cuffs so she had one hand in front and one hand behind her.

“Alright, let’s just do that again,” Tina said. She was about to push on Abby’s foot when her eyes glazed over. She turned around and Abby saw a dart sticking out of her buttock. She looked behind Tina and saw agent Cross walking up.

She let out a loud scream of terror as Tina fell down in a heap. Abby struggled to her feet, but now she was bent over awkwardly with her hands cuffed between her legs. She stared at the FBI man in shock and horror. He made no move towards her as she backed away. He looked at her. Then he pulled out a handgun and fired one shot into the ground.

“Travis is about five minutes away,” he said. “We just had breakfast a while ago. You’d best get your pretty white soft ass moving out of here.”

Abby cried out in horror and fled as fast as she could. She realized that something was even worse than her previous naked flight from a girl hunter. It was doing it with her arms cuffed between her legs. Nothing could be more awkward and degrading that trying to run in such a position. But she had no choice. She left Tina to her fate with Cross and ran away as well as she possibly could.

Ch. 12

Jeanette was still running, still terrified. She’d spent a cold night curled up under a bush. It hadn’t helped much. She’d been sure she was a gonner with the doctor so close behind her, but that encounter with the other naked, tied woman seemed to have given her a reprieve. Between the shots and the sounds of the helicopter, she realized he was more interested in catching the other woman, whoever she was, than of catching her. But why not? Jeanette certainly was no danger to him and had no way to escape. She’d even risked his wrath once she heard his chopper overhead to double back and get to her plane. She could fly home naked for all she cared. Her plane could outrun even Cross’s FBI helicopter. At least, if he hadn’t already drained the gas tank. She couldn’t even get into Cross’s bird, not that she was a chopper pilot anyway, and the doctor could return at any moment in his own. So she had resumed her southward journey that she’d only been on for ten minutes before the encounter with the naked, tied woman.

Now she was further from danger. She hoped. She hadn’t seen the doctor at all, nor had she seen anyone else. Not Tina. Not Stone. Maybe the bound woman was Abby? She had no way of knowing. All she knew was that going south from their starting position wouldn’t leave her many chances to find help. She hadn’t studied the charts or anything, and wasn’t overly familiar with Wyoming, but she remembered there wasn’t much of a chance to escape that way. So she ran and hid and hoped for the best. Now it was afternoon, and hotter than the day before. She hadn’t found water in a long time and was growing parched. But she continued onward for lack of alternatives.

That was when she felt the sudden pain. She’d paused for a moment, bent over, trying to catch her breath. She suddenly felt first the pressure and then the agony in her ass. She cried out and fell forward. She twisted backwards to see the bullet wound. It had grazed her right buttock before passing more substantially through her left and out again. It wasn’t a serious wound, but she realized when she tried to stand again that she actually needed those glute muscles to run properly. She staggered forward, limping badly on her left side. The doctor was somewhere around there. He’d spotted her. Now she couldn’t get away as fast. Unless rescue happened very soon, via a miracle, she was doomed.

There was no miracle. A few minutes later the doctor had chased her down. When she saw him she tried to flee. He chased her. When he was on top of her she tried to run a different direction. He just chased her, watching her hysterical sobs and screams. It took her several minutes to realize that he wasn’t going to shoot her again. He just enjoyed watching her useless, pathetic attempts to run when he could run three times faster than she could. He was toying with her. The realization made her collapse to her hands and knees, her body shaken by sobs of terror and misery. Once the doctor knew his game was over, he grabbed her and swiftly hogtied her on the ground. Jeanette could only lie there as he got ready, undressing and rolled her onto her back on her bound hands and feet. He pushed her legs apart and drove his cock home into her agonized pussy. She screamed in horror, having not been with a man in years. Now she was being raped and it was the most horrible feeling in the world. He kept at it for a while, changing from her pussy to, shockingly, her ass. She screamed in ten times the pain, both from her anal intrusion and from his weight on her gunshot wound.  But it was back in her cunt that he blew his load of sticky cum into her. She lay on the ground, sobbing in broken shame and horror, as he got dressed. Then he was standing over her again. He knelt down with a hypodermic needle.

“No! Please, no!” she croaked, her voice little more than a whisper.

“There’s no further rounds for you, cunt. I’ve caught you and I’ve used you. Let’s finish this up.”

“Please, don’t kill me!” she sobbed.

“Kill you? Someday, but not now. Oh, and I know you went back to your plane,” he said. He waited while the ramifications sunk into Jeanette’s tortured brain. “You’ll be punished severely for that. No cunt disobeys my orders. They all learn in time.” He pressed the plunger and Jeanette’s world vanished into darkness.

Ch. 13

Abby waddled for her life, knowing Stone could be anywhere. She couldn’t hope to outrun him, and if he got close enough the bells hanging from the wires in her tits would give away her position. So she couldn’t stop, but was scared to move. Not stopping won out, and so she waddled for her life. Even so, she wondered when it would come. When would the dart suddenly jab her and take away her consciousness. He hadn’t shot her before. Her tumble down the hill had taken care of that. What would it feel like? She tried very hard to imagine it, only because it had taken her more than ten minutes to get out of earshot of Tina’s anguished screams from behind her and she desperately sought something else to think about.

She was still waddling when she crossed over a ridge and spotted water. Down, to her right. She saw the unmistakable view of a lake. And lakes had to mean people. She hoped. She veered right, but remembered what Tina had said about Cross waiting for her at the river. Stone would do the same. So she stayed low, did not take the direct route, and made her way down the slope to the water. It was several miles off, several miles of painstaking waiting for the shot of the dart into her flesh. And then the captivity, the next rape, and the death round that awaited all the girls in the Bambi murders.

She was nearly at the shoreline when she spotted two things almost at once. Stone was there, a hundred yards up the shore. And he spotted her as well. And she spotted fishermen. There were two boats, far out on the water, but with two men in each of them. So she screamed. She pushed so much air through her vocal cords they felt like they would tear themselves out of her throat, but she screamed for them to see her. To notice her. To see she needed rescue. Men who didn’t rape them liked rescuing helpless, nude girls, didn’t they? She screamed and screamed and screamed until the dart struck her neck. She collapsed, awake but unable to move. But her head came to a rest peering out onto the water, and she saw the boats coming towards her, their outboards revving hard. Stone’s foot interrupted the view. He was standing over her. “I reckon they’re a minute away and won’t catch me on foot,” he said. “You came close, girl, but no one survives.”

She felt a sudden, hot, blinding pain and heard the awful blast. The bullet entered her someone on her side, up high. Up where the vital organs were. She saw her blood pooling under her and felt her world turn to black with rescue just moments away in the form of two boatloads of concerned men. And then all was black.
7
Forced Sex Stories / Re: Copycat
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:44:59 PM »
Ch. 9

Jeanette had long since emptied her stomach, but with her face surrounded by dirt except for the tube by her mouth, she’d had to lie in it. She couldn’t open her eyes for the dirt. The box covering her simply didn’t go up that far. Her body, bound and injured though it was, could at least wiggle. She had space enough to move her chest to breath. She could piss, as she had. But she was utterly trapped in a black, silent void, buried alive. It took little time at all before she lost all sense of time. Her pain and terror made sure that each moment seemed to last a lifetime. She only knew it had been nighttime because her vague memories of being chased and tortured and locked up in daylight had to have been dreams.

She lay in her entombment, her body growing weaker. She was desperate for water more than anything. How long could she live without it? She didn’t want to think about it, but the question seemed unavoidable so long as she was alive and trapped six feet under. The terrible cramps, itches, and the gunshot wound seemed modest in comparison.

She could therefore hardly believe it when she felt the dirt shifting around her. She felt it before she heard it, but in time she realized that she was being dug up. Someone was there! Anyone was there and she didn’t care who it was.

She sat up when the dirt layer over her head was small enough and the tube was yanked away. She gasped for breath, squinting up at the sunny sky. There was a middle aged man standing over her. He stood with his feet on either side of the box. As she watched, he reached down, grabbed her shoulders, and lifted her up and out from under the box and onto her feet.

“Step up and get out,” he told her, linking his hands together with his fingers. Jeanette stepped onto them as well as she could with her chained ankles and he pushed her up and out of the hole. She collapsed on her belly, too weak and dizzy to stand. The man climbed up out of the hole behind her.

She rolled onto her back, staring up at him. Was he a rescuer? Another girl hunter? “You’re lucky I found you,” he said.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Let’s get those cuffs off you,” he added. “Roll over so I can get to them.” Jeanette rolled back onto her belly. She felt him unlocking the cuffs first on her hands and then on her feet. She felt a brief moment of relief before it occurred to her that he knew where to find her and that he had the handcuff keys handy. She squealed a little bit and tried to slide away from him. She was too sore to easily even stand up.

“So, you’re figured out I’m not your prince valiant,” he said, walking along side her. She stopped and laid on the ground, staring back up, terrified.

“Please, why? What do you want?”

“Apparently we’re starting the game up for one more round,” he said. “I was surprised to hear it, but I’ll take it.”

“Please, let me go.”

“I do things a little different than the other guys,” he said. “There’s no particular death round. There’s no stun round.” Jeanette felt herself shiver at mention of the term death round. “The way it works is, you run and I chase you. The game ends when I end it or when you are rescued.”

“No! Please!” she screamed.

“I’m a doctor, by the way. I like the girls to know that. It gives them motivation, because when I catch you, I won’t be limited to the crude tortures my friends use. You’ll notice me, I promise you that.”

Jeanette wanted to beg more, but she was reduced to weeping. The doctor walked away from her, heading towards another helicopter near her plane and Cross’s chopper. “You run that way,” he told her, pointing south. “If I see you heading north at any time, I promise to use drugs on you that will have you begging to die. I’ll only use them if you go the wrong direction. You’d better start running, girl. As soon as I get my gear together I’m coming for you, ready or not.”

Jeanette stumbled to her feet and began to flee southwards. Her side still hurt from the gunshot, but it was a shallow wound and had already clotted up. She didn’t even look back. She couldn’t stand the thought of what she might see behind her. She just ran and ran. It was an open field, with many patches of trees. She was able to get out of sight of the camp at least. She veered to the left, looking to get into the hills. The doctor only said not to go north. She was too terrified not to believe him.

Ch. 10

Mary Allen stood with her back against the tree. Her hands were behind her, wrapped around the trunk, tied off. Her feet were tightly tied as well. She was naked. The mountain valley was spread out in front of her, but there was not a soul around. She was utterly alone with her captivity.

Until she wasn’t. She looked to her right and saw another woman running in her direction. The woman was as naked as she was, dirty, and clearly terrified. She saw Mary and approached her. Now Mary began to panic. Something was going very wrong here. She’d only driven up the deserted jeep trail to indulge in a little self bondage without witnesses. But there were witnesses now. She struggled to get her hands loose from the light knots she had tied, but in her panic she seemed to make them tighter. The woman ran up to her.

“Oh my god! What’s wrong with those animals?” she cried. “How long have you been here?”

“I, uh,” Mary stammered, not sure what to say. Was the woman being chased?

“If there’s two us we can survive. Hold on, let me untie you!”

Suddenly, as the woman began to fiddle with the knots around Mary’s wrists, a shot rang out and a bullet struck the tree trunk a foot above Mary’s head. Both women looked back. There was a man standing at a ridge, over a half mile away. He had his gun trained towards them.

“I’m sorry!” the woman cried as she fled. “I’m so sorry!”

Now Mary was alone again, sort of. She was too frightened to try to free herself as the man slowly walked towards her. She wanted to crawl away. Her clothes were some distance away. The other woman might stumble across them or might not. She could only stand there, shivering in terror as the man walked up to her. He stood looking her over.

“Who’s hunting you?” he asked.

“I,” she said, too scared to speak. “Don’t.”

“Are you Abby or Tina?”

“A-Abby,” she answered, confused and uncertain.

“Well you enjoy what time you’ve got left then, slut. Teach you about poking your little nose around.” With that he continued onward, in the direction the other woman had. In the direction of her clothes and her pack. As soon as he was out of sight she struggled at the knots holding her hands. They weren’t clinched too tightly, yet, but she had to work to get them loose. She finally felt the rope slide away and got her hands free. Her legs were tied with real knots, and her trembling fingers had a tough time with them. She had just started to get one loose when she saw the man walking back towards her, quickly, and with a gun out. He was holding her panties with his other hand. He’d found her stuff. He knew she wasn’t Abby or Tina. He knew she was an unwanted outsider.

With a cry, she pulled her foot loose and began running. Several feet of rope dangled behind her left foot, still tied to her, but she could move. She darted into the trees behind her as quickly as she could. She heard several shots behind her. She zigged and zagged and ran with all her strength. She knew this section of the hills well. She came up often. Her feet were calloused enough to not slow her down. She also knew that she could get to her Jeep, parked a mile away at the head of the old trail. If she led the man by enough, she could get the emergency key out and flee.

She dodged more shots. The man was good, but they were both moving and she was pulling away. She jumped over rocks and logs, streams and brush. She prayed the rope wouldn’t trip her. She neared her parked vehicle.

The man was behind her, not close enough to grab her, but close enough for her to hear him. She skidded to a halt by the wheel well, scraping the hell out of her right thigh, and grabbed the magnetic box. She yanked it open to get the key. Now the man was in sight, running right at her. He fired two shots as he ran up and stopped, the pistol clicking with an empty chamber. She jammed the key into the lock, jumped in, pulled the door shut and hit the lock button.

The man slammed into the side of the door, pounding his fist on the window with the gun. Cracks formed, but only small ones. Mary screamed, fumbling to get the key into the ignition while the man pulled the clip out of the gun and reached in his coat pocket for another. She got the engine started, put it in drive, and floored the gas. She lurched down the narrow path as more shots rang out. Her rear window shattered and another bullet hit the head rest of the front passenger seat. Then she rounded a bend and was out of his sight.

Mary continued driving, still terrified, for several more minutes. The trail was narrow, bumpy, and not maintained. It was on no map. But she could still drive it faster than the man could run. She’d escaped. She was naked, scraped up, and her heart was thudding in her chest, but she’d made it. She stopped briefly several minutes later to pull the rope around her ankle into the car. She didn’t want it to snag on anything. But she didn’t even take the time to untie it yet. She wanted to reach safety.

She drove slower. It was quite a while to the main road. She picked her self-bondage site with privacy and isolation in mind. She couldn’t help crying as she realized how close to death she’d come, and she had to stop for a while trying to get her eyes to clear up. A few minutes turned into ten, then fifteen. She was still far enough down the path not to worry about the man catching her on foot. She didn’t ponder the alternatives until she heard the distinctive sound of rotor blades from above and behind her. It was a helicopter. And it was coming her way.

With a cry of despair she lurched forward once more, trying to reach safety. The helicopter remained some distance from her, circling, trying to find her. The road was wooded for the moment, but Mary knew there would be clearer portions. And the woods were not all that thick. She couldn’t stay hidden, she had to try to leave. She shot out into an open section and in seconds the helicopter was overhead. It drowned out her Jeep engine as it hovered above her, no more than twenty feet over her head, tailing her as she tried to navigate the rocky, narrow path. Then it was ahead of her, dropping dangerously low to the ground. She saw the man at the cockpit, looking at her. She screamed and tried to veer back and forth. She couldn’t go off road. No vehicle short of a monster truck could do that in the section of path she was on. She just panicked, trying to shake him off, until her tires finally lost the ground altogether. She screamed as she rolled off the embankment and did a ten foot nose dive into a gully. Mary hadn’t even put her seat belt on yet, but the air bag exploded in front of her, easing her forward jolt into the steering column as her dead car came to a rest.

She was still dazed by the collision, and it took her a moment to recover her wits. She finally looked out her window to see the man coming down the side of the gully thirty feet away. He had a gun and a crowbar as he marched towards her car door. Mary screamed as he jammed the crowbar into the door and began to pry it open. She realized it was going to work. The frame was already bent up from the accident. She scrambled for the passenger door, opened it up, and jumped out. Her nude body hit the rocky stream hard, but she scrambled forward until she was rudely yanked backward by the rope dangling from her left foot. The far end was snagged. She cried out and gave her leg a few mighty yanks. It un-snagged the rope, but the man was now on top of her. He kicked her hard on her belly, making her collapse in great pain on the ground. He rolled her onto her back, knelt down with his knee on her belly, and produced a hypodermic needle. Mary stared at it with wide, terrified eyes.

“Bonus,” he said as he jabbed it into her arm. It was the last thing Mary saw before the world faded away.
8
Forced Sex Stories / Re: Copycat
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:44:07 PM »
Ch. 7

Hanging upside down as she was, Abby’s terror led her to dry heave as her stomach tried to expel its nonexistent contents. Her legs were spread between two tree branches, and her hands were cuffed behind her back. Stone was there, naked as she was, but not at all helpless. His cock was standing up for her, but right now he was focusing on the belt he held in his right arm. Abby’s breaths came in short, jagged bursts as he casually waved the belt around in front of her. “You had to believe there were two killers, didn’t you?” he asked in a cold voice. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone. It wasn’t enough that cunts like you killed Bret. You had to come after me as well!”

“P-please!” she sobbed. Her plea was answered with a hard strike from his belt, swung with all his strength, landing on her widely exposed twat.

“You people hounded me after driving my brother to suicide. Made me change my name, but no matter. Didn’t do any good,” he snarled as Abby’s mind tried to comprehend what he was saying through her vaginal agony. He struck her again in the same spot on her cunt. Abby shrieked in agony, jerking her body about to try to get away.

“No, you could have left it at that!” he shouted, striking her pussy yet again. “Everyone could have gone on with life, but you couldn’t let it go!” Another strike. “None of your fucking business anyway!”

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’ll stop! I’ll leave! I won’t tell anyone!”

“Too fucking late!” he shouted, now thrashing her tits as she writhed and twisted to get out of the way. “Too fucking late for you, bitch! You’re gonna die out here, like the others. Not a fucking thing you can do about it!”

He stopped whipping her, giving Abby a moment to recover, but he began a new torment that she could only watch coming with horrified, terrorized eyes. He had two pieces of thick, tough, large gauge wire. The ends were both sharpened to a point. From his pocket he produced several small jingle bells, the cheap kind that appeared in cheap toys. He ran the wire through the holes in the round bells, putting two on each loop and bending them, into a loop. Then he grabbed Abby’s right breast and pinched her nipple until it was hard.

“Nooo!” she shrieked, trying to twist away, but he stood close and she couldn’t free herself even from his grasp. She screeched in agony as he ran the wire tip into her areola, piercing it under her nipple and out the other side. Her blood dripped out onto the ground, with each drop falling in front of her upside down face. He pinched the loop shut, forming an oval ring a couple inches long. He had to use pliers to twist the ends together in a long helix so the loop remained shut and trapped on her breast. The wire was too stiff to twist by hand.

He did the same with the other nipple, bringing forth new screams of pain from Abby’s throat. Now with each movement she could hear the tiny bells jingling. It was not lost on her that she couldn’t hope to remove them by hand.

Stone finally cut her down, cutting one rope so she swung down and hit her head and upper body on the ground, and then the next rope so she fell in a heap. She didn’t even have a moment to recover her wits, for Stone was on her, pressing her down to the ground by her neck while shoving his cock deep into her agonized cunt. It was an angry, brutal rape that left Abby dizzy from lack of air. His hands never left her throat. When he finally dumped his load of cum into her she could only lie on the dirty ground, gasping and sobbing while Stone got dressed.

“Alright, you’ve got fifteen minutes. But you’re still in dart gun round, cunt. I won’t kill you just yet.”

Abby staggered to her feet, her hands still chained. “Please, please, take the cuffs off at least!” she sobbed. “Don’t make me run like this!”

“Sure, Abby, sure. I’ll unchain your hands. And then we can go right to the death round. Go ahead and pick one!”

She fell to her knees, sobbing at the choice. “The clock is ticking either way, bitch.” With that she staggered back onto her feet and fled. Her hands were still cuffed, making her running awkward. Her breasts flapped up and down, producing the awful jingling from the bells she couldn’t even reach, let alone remove. What would he do to her the next time he caught her? The possibilities were too terrible to consider. She had to run.

Ch. 8

Tina’s legs were strong, but her body was exhausted from the dig. The adrenalin her would-be killer produced in her was able to keep her moving, but at the cost of clarity of thought. She was nearly in a blind panic and couldn’t guess which way to go once she was out of sight. The land provided a mixture of cover, with patches of trees and brush alternating with open fields with long grass. The ground wasn’t especially hard, and she feared he could follow her tracks even though they didn’t seem obvious.

Crossing over a local high point, she spied a river to her left. There were more trees and bushes there, and water. She fled towards it and found it shallow but rocky, a typical high mountain river. She quickly crossed to the other side and thought about her options. Surely twenty minutes were up. Cross would be after her. He couldn’t possibly track her through the water, and civilization had to be downstream. She knew that much. It meant sort of backtracking, but there was cover by the river. He wouldn’t see her unless he was already close by. She began skipping over the rocks.

They were hard on her feet. That was the worst. But her runner’s legs had built up some toughness during her life. And she had balance that came from all her practices and track meets. She was feeling like she had a chance when she turned a bend and found Cross standing there waiting for her.

She stopped, frozen in petrifying terror. For a moment they locked eyes, and she wondered if he would actually do it. But his dart gun came up and a second later she felt the sting of the sharp shaft stuck in her belly. “They always try the river,” Cross said, walking towards her to catch her before she fell and bashed her head on a rock. She was too dizzy to resist as he pulled her to the bank and laid her limp body down on the grass. She stared up as he gazed down at her, smiling.

“Can you hear me?” he asked in a mocking tone, waving his hand back and forth to get her attention. She couldn’t even follow it with her eyes. “It’s so hard to know how each girl responds to these tranks,” he said.

She could hear him fine, just as before, but her body was just as paralyzed. She could do nothing while he opened his pack and used a hammer to drive four camping stakes into the ground. He dragged her into position and tied her tightly spread eagled before she could even twitch on her own.

She couldn’t turn her head to see him, but when he returned to her view he was undressed and sporting a raging hard on. He sat down on her tits, his bobbing cock in her lower vision. “What’s it like?” he asked. “To be you. How’s it feel to be a brown sex doll?” he pushed her jaw open and slid forward, sliding his cock easily into her mouth. She wanted to scream and struggle and bite, but though she could feel and taste him, she couldn’t respond. She had regained only control of her eyes.

“You girls have it easy, you know. You get to be desired. You like being desired, but you think there’s no cost.” He reached behind his back, grabbed her right nipple, and squeezed it, crushing her flesh and twisting it around. “But even the cost isn’t so bad, is it? You’ll get to experience a thrill few women ever know!”

Tina lay there, redundantly bound, gagging on the agent’s cock. She couldn’t move, but she could cry. At least tears could flow from her eyes, blurring her vision of her rapist’s crotch in her face. He thrust a few times, but mostly moved slowly. Even so, towards the end his pace quickened and he began shooting cum into her mouth. He pulled out enough to spread some on her face as well before running dry. He wiped his cock off on her hair before getting up and getting dressed.

He did not let her go, though. Slowly, Tina’s mobility returned. It took longer than before, but Cross seemed patient.  He waited until she was fully recovered before standing over her. “You’ve got another round left before the death round,” he said.

“Please, don’t!” she sobbed, not really hopeful for mercy but not knowing what else to do.

“I won’t,” he said. “Not yet. It’s getting late in the day, you know. I know you’ve had a terribly long day. I think this interlude should last until morning. That’s what I think. I think you’ll keep me company here. We’ll camp here. I think I’ll keep you company as well. And in the morning we can pick it up again. You’ll be rested. You’ll need it, won’t you?”

She would need the rest. She knew that much. She realized, as she watched the sun go down and Cross began setting up a camp, that she might well be viewing her last sunset ever. But the ropes holding her nude body open refused to yield.
9
Forced Sex Stories / Re: Copycat
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:43:31 PM »
Ch. 5

The more Abby ran the more frightened she became. As her body began to sweat hard she realized something more disturbing still. The sun was still rising in the sky. During the ride it was already early afternoon. How long had she been unconscious?

She didn’t have time to ponder the question. She didn’t dare stop, but she didn’t know where she was going. The land was a mixture of fields and woodland. It wasn’t hard to move through it except that the rough ground was hard on her bare feet. It was with great relief that she came across a fairly wide, rocky stream. She paused to take a long drink of water and think. If he was tracking her, then water would have to be the best way to lose him. But four of the murdered girls had been found very near or in rivers or streams. He had to be expecting it. She looked around in desperation. He could be anywhere.

Straight ahead was higher ground, and maybe seeing him coming would be her only hope of salvation. She hopped over the slippery rocks, pausing only once when, with a great cry of fear, she slipped and fell on her side, banging her hips and ribs on the wet stones. She sobbed a bit, trying to control herself, as she crawled from the water and got to her feet to continue the flight.

She had a slight limp as she frantically scrambled up the hillside. The grass was dry and tan, possibly camouflaging her presence on the hillside, but she still tried to stay close to trees and brush anyway. She was soon badly winded but continued even at a slow pace. Higher ground felt safe. She could see a long distance as she went higher. She saw no sign of Stone anywhere. That didn’t mean he wasn’t around. He could be watching her. He could be taking aim.

The thought of his shooting her spurred her onward. She realized that to get out of the area she would have to go through a pass between two higher, steeper peaks. He could be waiting, but only if he were in front of her. There was enough woodland cover to conceal her. Sweating and gasping for breath she continued on. She hadn’t realized how high she’d gotten. She was moving along the side of the slope more than directly up it, but was still starting to maybe stand out, a lone nude female amidst the grass and trees.

She was reaching a narrower section when she stopped and her blood froze. On a tree thirty feet in front of her was a post-it note. Abby was suddenly too scared to move at all, as if her motion would give away her permission to the hunter Stone. Her eyes darted furiously about, desperate to catch some glimpse of him. She hadn’t seen him since waking up.

Finally, with trembling legs she walked forward and took the paper off the tree to read. “Girls are slow and predictable. Bang!”

She let out a squeal of terror, just as she felt something whiz past her side and strike the tree. It was a dart. She screamed and turned back, fleeing down the hillside as fast as her legs would move. The dart had come from the right, but the way back down was gradually in the other direction. Screaming and bounding over the grassy, slightly rough landscape, Abby couldn’t help but trip over her feet and begin to fall sideways, down the steeper slope. Once she began she couldn’t stop herself.

She tumbled and fell, shrieking in terror as her naked body spun and bounced and collided with the ground, delivering scrapes and bruises. She couldn’t even see what was ahead, but there were trees around her and some larger exposed rocks. Her plummet lasted the better part of a minute before she rolled to a stop, dazed, cut up, and incoherent with shock at her wild tumble.

For some time she couldn’t will herself to move. She was too badly shaken, and her attempt to stand led only to her collapse again. She looked up and had enough presence of mind to realize that Stone was walking down the hillside towards her. He was keeping his eye on her progress. But her dizziness was still strong, and the pain in her leg, while not debilitating, added to her general inability to stand.

“No!” she cried as he drew close enough to see his face clearly. “No! Please!” She tried to crawl away, to no great effect. Closer and closer he got, leveling the dart gun at her. But he didn’t fire. Abby was still only slithering away across the bare ground like a wounded animal. He never needed to fire. He simply walked up to Abby and grabbed hold of her hair.

“Round one over, Abby,” he told her.

Ch. 6

“This is the area,” Jeanette said as they circled overhead. “I don’t see a helicopter. There’s not much of anything down there.”

Tina looked down as well. There was a whole lot of hunting space, she thought with a tremble of fear.

They circled around for twenty minutes but found nothing. Circling around the neighboring peaks likewise produced nothing. “I don’t think anyone is here,” Jeanette said. “There’s just no sign of anything.”

“I guess,” Tina reluctantly agreed. “Can we set down? I need to stretch out and that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, I could use a break too,” Jeanette replied. She headed for the nearest large field and brought her plane down for a smooth landing. On the ground, both women got out, and Tina made a run for the bushes. She then headed back to the plane.

“It sure is peaceful out here,” she said. “Someone could use it for murder.”

“I think the case is over. Your friend probably just changed her itinerary or something.”

“I guess. Maybe. Sorry to have dragged you out here.”

“Don’t worry. Like I said, I wish someone had cared enough for Patty to double check on her.”

Tina stopped and looked up. She heard something. In a minute she saw it. A helicopter was coming their way. “Look!” she said, pointing.

“That’s not T. J.’s,” Jeanette said. “That’s a government helicopter.”

“What’s it doing?”

“Coming to see us I’d say.” The chopper was indeed heading straight for them and decreasing altitude as it approached. The women watched as it landed a hundred yards away from them. A single man emerged.

“That’s special agent Cross,” Jeanette said. “Your friend must have met him, or will soon.”

“He’s on her meetings list,” Tina said as he walked over. “I met him earlier.”

“Good day, ladies,” he said.

“Hello, sir,” Tina replied. “What’s happening? What is it? Have you learned something about Abby?”

“No, not about Abby,” he said. “But I’ve learned something about the two of you.”

“Us? What?” Jeanette asked. In a flash, he pulled out a gun. Firing twice, he sent a dart into each woman’s abdomen. Tina gasped and felt herself growing dizzy. She saw Jeanette staggering. Her vision was growing blurred and she fell to her knees.

“I learned you both were here, butting in where you don’t belong,” he said. Tina could still hear and understand him plainly. Whatever drug was now coursing through her veins wasn’t knocking her out, but it was clearly disabling her. “I came to fix that,” he told them.

Tina fell face down to the ground, her body paralyzed but her mind still shrieking in sudden realization and terror. Her eyes were closed, but she could hear and feel everything. She heard the sound of clothes being torn, and soon felt and heard her own clothing ripped away from her body. Everything went. He flipped her onto her back, and her eyes came open. Cross was smiling down at her.

“I told Travis not to restart this game. Too dangerous. But he did, and now you’re both here, so I guess the game is on again, at least one more time.”

Tina breaths came in short, sharp gasps, but she otherwise had no control. Cross vanished from her sight for a bit. She could only stare up at the sky.

When he returned, Tina felt and heard the shackles going on her feet and on Jeanette’s. More went on her hands, locking them in front of her. Then she waited while her body slowly regained control of itself. She could move fingers and toes first, and the rest of her body followed suit in time. But Cross was sitting there on the tire of Jeanette’s plane, armed and waiting for them. With their chains on, neither girl could act. Even when they could move fully, the two sat sobbing on the ground, waiting for Cross’s next action.

It wasn’t long in coming. He had two shovels, which he tossed at them. “Start digging,” he told them. “It’s not a grave, per se, but make it look like one. And don’t keep me waiting,” he said, holding his pistol lovingly. “I might get bored and cut my losses.”

Terrified out of her wits, Tina dug alongside Jeanette. The heavy dirt was tough to dig into, but they managed to scoop away enough soil for a hole six feet deep and long, and three wide. They were both dripping with dirty sweat when he told them to stop. While they dug, he had produced two more items from the chopper. One looked like a low, extremely crude coffee table. It was just three planks nailed together like three sides of a coffin. That was how it looked to Tina. It was around four feet long and a foot deep. The other item was a length of plastic pipe, a few inches wide and more than six feet long, with a short bend on one end and two short bends on the other.

When the hole was dug, the two girls watched helplessly as Cross tossed their clothing into the hole and lit fire to it. Everything burned away in minutes. Now he turned the gun on Jeanette. He moved her handcuffs from the front to her back.

“Okay, fly girl, into the hole with you. Lie down. Darkie, you jump down there and put the cover over her, right up to her head.”

“Please! No!” Jeannette screamed. “Don’t bury me!”

Cross fired, sending a bullet grazing along her side, opening a cut several inches long. Hysterically, Jeanette sat on the side of the hole and jumped in. She lay down on her side, keeping the injured side up. Tina scrambled down with the cover and placed it over Jeanette’s upper body as instructed. She couldn’t get out without Cross’s help, but he pulled her free.

“Okay, darkie girl, get working. Bury her!”

Jeanette was still screaming, and Tina was terrified enough to refuse, except that now Cross held the pipe in the hole, with the singly bent end held to Jeanette’s face and the doubly bent end coming up out of the hole. It was an air tube.

Tina’s stomach was turning over and over as she tossed dirt down on the naked woman who had been kind enough to help her. It was easier to fill in the hole than to dig it out, even by herself. Cross only held the pipe until it was securely placed. Then he let go of it. His only other contribution was periodically stomping on the dirt to pack it down. Jeannette was lying underneath the wooden cover, letting her body move a little bit, but with her hands tied and her feet both tied and buried, she wouldn’t be getting out of the hole on her own. She could breathe, but her fate depended on someone digging her up. Tina could hear her screams from though the pipe, muted though they were. The pipe stuck up only a foot from the ground, so it would be impossible to see from the air or even from the ground unless someone was close by. It was below the level of the wild grass. Bent over twice, it couldn’t fill with rain water and drown Jeanette. It could only keep her alive until thirst took its toll.

It was very late afternoon and hot out when Tina finally finished the shoveling. She even had to replace the sod top, making the patch look almost natural. The extra dirt she scattered around with the shovel. She was drained physically and emotionally when it was over, but she was still chained, nude, and utterly at Cross’s mercy.

“How much did Abby tell you about her little case?” Cross asked.

“Everything. More than I wanted to know.”

“Good,” he said, handing her a canteen. She eagerly drank the cool water down. Then he unchained her. “So you know the drill. I’ll give you some practice rounds before the death round. I think you’ll get two practice rounds.”

“No, please! For god’s sake, don’t!”

“You’re the first non-white bitch. You should be honored. What the hell are you, anyway?”

“Filipina,” she replied with a trembling voice.

“Well, jungle girl, better remember your ancestry. You’re tired, so you get twenty minutes head start. Then I come after you.” He glanced at his watch. “The clock starts now, cunt.” Tina whimpered in ghastly horror and ran for her life to the nearest trees.
10
Forced Sex Stories / Re: Copycat
« Last post by SoftGameHunter on April 23, 2017, 08:42:30 PM »
Ch. 3

“How much longer is it to the Carla Upton site?” Abby asked.

“It’s about a hundred fifty miles behind us,” Stone replied. “You said you wanted to work from the outermost one in.”

“No, I, well, never mind. The order doesn’t matter. I wish I could see them all, but I don’t have the time or money to cover three states.”

“There’s not a huge difference among them.”

“How much longer is it?” she asked.

“It’s a bit of a flight,” Stone replied. “We’ll have to refuel on the way. Catch some z’s if you want.”

“Thanks,” Abby replied, but she wanted to watch the scenery. Even so, her fatigue from the last few days was intense, and she found herself dozing a bit. She woke up briefly during the refueling, but otherwise found the dull roar of the machine to be quite soothing. She was simply relieved that she hadn’t had to drive the distance, knowing how far it really was. She settled her head against the window to nap, with only a tiny sting, probably from an insect, disturbing her late morning slumber.

Waking came slowly for Abby. She’d been resting so soundly that she didn’t want to stop. But she realized from the silence that they must have landed. She was wasting time. She opened her eyes quickly and sat bolt upright from her prone position. Her mind registered several startling facts almost simultaneously, but their full meaning did not sink in for a few moments. She was alone, lying in a field. There was nobody around her anywhere. There was nothing at all around her except wilderness. She didn’t recognize anything, from life or from pictures she’d been studying.

She was naked, stripped from top to bottom of every last man-made item she had. Her muscles felt sore and her head hurt a bit. It was like being a girl from the Bambi murders. And in that moment of clarity it hit her. It was exactly like the scenario in the Bambi murders. Down to every detail she knew about. She jumped to her feet, looking around frantically for some sign that she wasn’t really in trouble. Anything that could help her.

“Oh no,” she gasped. “No!” she cried, louder, as her jaw began to tremble. Her heart was fluttering as it tried to race, and her belly was turning over. It couldn’t be true. It was supposed to be over now. It couldn’t be happening to her!

“Please!” she whimpered, though no one could possibly hear her. “Don’t do this!” she shrieked, looking around desperately. “Please!”

As she spun around in a panic, she realized at last that she was not technically naked after all. Something was stuck in her hair. She pulled it off and found a post-it note. “You know what. Lose the first round to learn why. I am watching you right now. You have two minutes to run.”

She let out a long, terrified shriek of terror, dropping the note and fleeing from the spot in a desperate attempt to get away from him. She went down hill, praying that he wasn’t down there. The ground bit lightly into her bare feet and the tall grass brushed over her legs. This, she realized, was the meaning of naked terror. It was the most vulnerable, exposing, degrading feeling imaginable. It meant that the danger to her life was partly overcome by the desperate, frantic craving to protect herself with some kind of covering. Anything at all, but nothing was there for her. It was the primal horror that all the girls before her had suffered. But they may not have known for sure what faced them. Abby did.

Everywhere she looked she imagined him waiting for her. Waiting to shoot her, perhaps first to knock her out, but eventually to murder her. What chance did she have, alone, lost, nude in the wild? Leslie Parker and Olivia Garland had been runners. Olivia Garland had even been a cross country athlete in college. Neither survived. Abby rarely exercised. Annette Martin vanished while camping and was raped and killed. Abby never went out into the wild. What chance could she have where better girls had failed?

It didn’t take long for her to lose her breath and have to slow down. The realization that she was a soft, slow prey just made her need to cry. She was truly hopeless out there, just a naked animal. It was a hot day and she was already starting to sweat. Her mouth was dry, and she didn’t see a river or brook or any way to get water. She continued to stagger forward in a panic, hoping against hope he couldn’t track her.

Ch. 4

Far away, Tina was in a near panic herself, not for her own life but for Abby’s. Repeated calls to the authorities in Denver had gotten nowhere. It was as if no one cared that Abby was in the clutches of the killer’s own brother now. She had finally bought a plane ticket to talk to them herself, in person. It cost her a good portion of her savings for the purchase, but she saw no other choice. She had all the contact information that Abby had left. She knew exactly who to see.

She hadn’t counted on being ignored in person. The Denver police hadn’t even commented to her, since she was very obviously not a relative of Abby’s. The feds were equally mute. Only talking to the reporter had shed any light on the government’s reticence. “T. J. Stone was T. J. Hawkins? Everyone knows that,” he said from his home office where Tina had met him.

“What? How?”

“It wasn’t a secret. Look, T. J. was looked into, questioned, and it all came to nothing. He even received a commendation during the initial search and rescue phase of the Bambi murders for his help in bush piloting around the region.”

“So why the name change?”

“Publicity. It’s hard being related to the devil, you know.”

“Oh. I’d still feel better if I could get in touch with Abby, though.”

“Good luck. None of the sites around here have cell phone coverage.”

“I know where she was going. Could I arrange another trip?”

“Sure, it’s public land. You don’t need permission. Just a way of getting in.”

“Oh.” Tina thought about her depleted bank account and wondered if maybe it wasn’t worth it anymore.

“Look, maybe I can help you out. I know a woman, Jeanette Wright. She’s a local pilot, and her cousin was one of the victims, Patty Niggel. She might be willing to fly you in for cheap. I can give you her number.”

“That would be great!” Tina said. An hour later she was in a dingy hanger on the edge of a municipal airfield.

“They checked T. J. Stone. They said he was clean. Hell, I know the guy, a bit,” Jeanette said. “But if you think maybe something’s wrong, it can’t hurt to look. I wish someone had checked on Patty once more.”

Jeanette flew a small Cessna 172 rather than a helicopter, making Tina a bit worried. Jeanette assured her that it was built for landing in open fields, of which there were plenty in the region. With Tina’s map of the murder sites in hand they headed out.

“She didn’t say which order they would be visiting in, did she?” Jeanette asked.

“I think in order by distance, but I’m not certain,” Tina replied.

“We’ll just fly over them all,” Jeanette said. Tina sat back for the long trip. Hours later she was worried again. They hadn’t seen any sign of a helicopter or of Abby. Jeanette was frowning. “He should have landed in the largest open spaces available,” she said.

“Could he have taken her someplace else after kidnapping her?” Tina asked.

“We don’t know that. But...” Her voice trailed off.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been in the hanger he uses on occasion. There’s always been a bunch of charts on the wall. Some spot up north in Wyoming.”

“Is it one of the murder sites?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well can you fly us there?”

“It can’t hurt,” Jeanette said. She steered for a new course taking them north and out of the state.
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