This is a sequel to Lost Hunted Girl and Copycat.
(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.”
“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.”
“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.