Female Prey & the Elusive Prey (9 page)

He guided the head of his cock between her lips, enjoying the contrast of feeling between her warm, wet mouth and the cool, dry night air. That pretty little mouth still had teeth though. She might be broken for the moment, but he was certain that if he pushed her too hard now she would still bite, no matter what threat of punishment stood over her. If he tried to ram himself down her throat now, as he so badly wanted to do, she’d no doubt try very, very hard to bite his cock off. That would be…unpleasant. Better to have her do the work for now.

“Come on, elf-girl.” He said. “Do a good job now.” He used his grip on her hair to get her into a back-and-forth rhythm, gradually reducing his urgings until she was doing it all by herself. She made small, nasal grunts with each stroke. He released her hair and put his hand on the back of her neck.

Eyes still shut, Kimberley concentrated on the long, thick slab of meat in her mouth, trying to remember where the most sensitive areas were on it in order to get this over with as quickly as possible, knowing her other two captors were watching and waiting their turns. She tried very hard to push the scent and the taste of musk and sweat out of her mind as she sucked and licked. She was no stranger to sucking, but had always insisted on a shower beforehand, and now…she choked back a sob. She was terribly conscious of his big, heavy hand because it was gently but firmly massaging the back of her neck as she worked, and it was oddly distracting, as if he were caressing some pet animal. Well, they’d been treating her like an animal ever since they’d caught her, and now they were forcing her into this act of submission and she was going along with it just so she could be spared worse torture. She squeezed her eyes shut against the threatening tears, blocking out everything but the feel of the cock in her mouth.

He came suddenly, without any more warning than a faint groan. Instinctively, Kimberley tried to pull back. She’d never let a man come in her mouth before, but the heavy hand on her neck kept her from pulling away, and all of a sudden her mouth was full of thick, salty fluid. He held her in place, groaning, as he kept spurting into her. Kimberley writhed and coughed, trying to open her mouth wide enough to let it dribble out, but even so she had to swallow some of it. When he finally pulled out of her mouth she retched and gagged, still bent over because he still held her head down. Then he took his cock in his free hand and slapped her across the face with it, right, left, before letting go.

“You’re gonna hafta learn better’n that, elf-girl.” He told her as he began zipping up. “We’re gonna make sure you get lots of practice.”

Kimberley sobbed. She stayed bent over because the other two were waiting and they’d only bend her over again if she straightened up. Besides, she didn’t want to see which one was next, with that eager, nasty glint in his eye. She was utterly miserable, and the only hope she could cling to was that it would all be over after her time was up…wouldn’t it? That end seemed so terribly far away just now. She hurt all over, but especially in her shoulders, and she wanted a hot bath more than anything else in the world, even a decent meal. She spat out what she could, but she could feel some of the sticky come on her chin, on her lips, probably in her hair too.

A rough hand grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head up and back for the next cock. Eyes still closed, she opened her mouth wide for it, choking back a sob.

Ron watched as Kurt had his turn at her. He was more vigorous than seemed safe, but elf-girl wasn’t putting up much of a fight at the moment. Those little noises she made were very arousing, even so soon after he’d emptied himself into her mouth. The startled “mmmphhh!” she made when Kurt came was accented by her bound hands, up until then clenched into hard little fists, spreading wide, fingers quivering. Kurt kept his cock in her mouth a little while as she choked and spluttered around it. When he finally withdrew, he wiped it across her cheeks slowly before giving up his place to Lloyd.

“She’s got promise.” Kurt chuckled as he approached. “Makes a lotta noise anyway. I like that.”

“So do I.” Ron grinned at him. He nodded towards their captive, who kept shifting her feet as Lloyd took his turn. It was more like mouth-fucking than sucking the way he was doing it, but all of the fight seemed drained out of her now. It would come back, he was sure. She was very noisy now, mostly sounds of complaint and pain, hands clenching and unclenching reflexively. Lloyd finally came, prompting another muffled cry of surprise. Had she thought they weren’t going to come in her mouth? Maybe, but she ought to be rid of that notion now.

They let her down, and she collapsed on the ground, curled up in a little ball of misery on her side, racked with dry heaves. Just as well they hadn’t been feeding her, or she’d have made a real mess of herself…not that she was looking all that great now. Ron untied her hands and elbows. She barely seemed to notice, but after a little while she wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees. She was still shaking, but with sobs now. As they ate what little food they had left, they kept an eye on her. She had her back to them, so they couldn’t tell exactly when she fell asleep, worn out, used up, done for.

“Leave ‘er like that?” Lloyd asked finally. Ron thought a moment. You did reach a point where a little more brutality was just piling on. She might be physically broken…might be…but you had to get inside their minds too, and a little unexpected kindness could help break down those barriers more quickly.

“Nah.” He said. “Let’s clean her up a bit and give her something to sleep on. We got anything we can use to scrub her down?”

“Think so.” Kurt shrugged. “Some rags anyways.” He nodded towards the creek. “Heat the water first?”

Ron shook his head. “Can’t start pampering her now.” He chided.

Kimberley was only half-awake and very confused when they got her to her feet. Fuzzily, she wondered what new torture they were going to inflict on her before the first soggy rag was applied to her bare skin. It was cold, and she whimpered at the touch at first. One of them was holding her up while the other two began wiping her down, cleaning her off. When a wet rag was applied to her face, she looked up sleepily to see who was doing it, and her eyes met the leader’s of this rape gang. She was too tired even to be surprised. After the abuse of the past twenty-four-plus hours even the cold rags felt good as her captors methodically cleaned her up. There was almost a sensuousness to it as they stroked her back, her belly, her legs, her breasts, between her legs. The leader did a thorough job on her face, even using the rag on her hair. She stood, swaying with weariness until they were done, wishing they never would be because this felt so good in contrast to everything else they’d done to her so far, dreading what they would be up to when it was over. She didn’t even wonder or care why they were being so kind to her. For the first time, they gave her enough water to drink to quench her thirst. But when they’d finished, they only led her over to an old blanket spread near the campfire and let her collapse onto it. She was asleep the moment her head hit the ground.

“So now what?” Kurt asked Ron as they sat with their backs to an old log, watching elf-girl as she slept, unmoving.

“Start it all up again tomorrow.” Ron replied. “Tie ‘er up, put ‘er on a leash and get on to the cabin. She thinks this was rough, wait’ll we get home.”

“Cute little ass.” Kurt observed. Off to one side, Lloyd began snoring.

“Cute little everything.” Ron nodded. “Kinda makes you feel regretful abusing her like this.”

“Naw.” Kurt yawned. “They come out here for it. Maybe they get more’n they expected, or even dreamed of…but some of ‘em do come back.”

“Yeah. What was the name of that long-legged redhead? Her third time out she even brought a friend along.” He chuckled. “Never saw her friend again, but she’s been out, what, five times?”

“At least.” Kurt nodded. “Think she goes by the name of Cindy.” He shrugged. “Names don’t really matter out here. They learn to answer to what we call ‘em.. Which reminds me…why you keep calling this tough little piece ‘elf-girl’?”

Ron told him, and Kurt got up to walk over to their captive and have a look at her ears.

“See whatcha mean.” He grunted as he plopped down alongside Ron again. “Funny I never noticed her ears. Too much else to look at and play with I guess.” He yawned hugely, showing big, square teeth. “I’m turnin’ in. Keep an eye on our pet. Don’t want her wanderin’ off on us.”

For a little while there was no noise except for the crackling of the fire, the calling of the night insects, and Lloyd’s soft snoring. Then Kurt’s louder snores began.

Ron looked at his watch. Something like three hours before he’d be due to wake Kurt for his turn at watch. Lloyd always got third watch, because he was the best at brewing coffee in the morning. Somebody always had to keep watch though. The women who came out here…you could abuse them, use them any way you felt like, but you never, never let them get really hurt if you could help it. So, you kept watch.

He wondered what had brought elf-girl out here. He always wondered about the first-timers. Sometimes you could tell a lot by what sort of scenario they wanted. Abductions were popular, but it wasn’t all that often that a woman would want to hike out into the middle of nowhere in order to be taken. She knew her way around the outdoors. Really made them work to catch her. He smiled at that. Well, they’d caught her now.

Images of past captives flitted through his mind. That redhead, Cindy, for one. That first time, after they caught her, they led her off into the woods on horseback. He could still see her sitting erect in the saddle, stark naked, her hands cuffed behind her. She’d said nothing at all on the trip out, and her face never changed its stoic expression, but when he’d lifted her out of the saddle, it had been wet. Then there was that brunette, some business executive. She’d wanted to be captured by white slavers, trained and sold. A very voluptuous woman she was, and so very eager to please. Sometimes they knew exactly what they wanted when they signed up. Sometimes they were wrong. Well, the full treatment wasn’t for everybody. And sometimes they wanted it all so badly, but just couldn’t let themselves go to get it, in which case the full treatment helped them break down the barriers they couldn’t even see that they were trapped behind.

He wasn’t sure about elf-girl. She was going to get the full treatment: No way out of that once you’d signed up, but how was she going to take it?

Cute as her backside was, he could only look at it for so long. He got up and stretched, then walked over so he could look at her face. It was in the shadows cast by the campfire, so he rolled her onto her other side. She made no sound or movement as he did so.

He remembered the alert, lively, pretty face he’d spied on from cover. It was still pretty, but she looked drawn, tired, with faint shadows under her eyes. For a brief moment, he regretted putting her through this. It apparently had been much, much tougher than she’d expected. But then, she hadn’t made it easy on them, either. He reached out to ruffle her hair, still damp from the rag. She stirred faintly in her sleep, murmuring something. He figured she was dreaming, and wondered what about. He stroked her flank slowly, liking the feel of her, the look of her.

It was a disturbing dream, dark, disjointed and confusing. She was being led naked through a dark forest of stunted and twisted trees by half-seen monsters who beat her if she lagged. Then she was somehow in a dungeon cell, dark except for the faint flickering light that came through the tiny grille in the massive door. The walls and floor were rough, bare stone, and she crouched in the darkness, her hands bound painfully behind her with thin, tough cords. It was hot in here. She knew they were coming for her, and she could smell her own fear, her own sweat, and her own lust, all intermingled.

She shuddered weakly in her sleep, crying out faintly. Might be a very interesting dream, he thought. He wondered if any of his group featured in it. He rolled her onto her back gently. He didn’t want to wake her just now, as difficult as it might be anyway. She was limp, boneless as he moved her. As she slept, he took the opportunity to look over her body again, at his leisure this time. Her slender wrists were chafed, and still bore rope marks. There were also rope marks where Kurt had bound her elbows, but they seemed to be fading. He moved to her feet, to see what damage they might have suffered so far. He brushed the dirt and bits of leaves away carefully, and was glad to see that, aside from some bruising, they seemed okay. There was some chafing visible at her ankles, from when they’d staked her out the night before. He held one ankle up to inspect her foot. It was a slender little foot, with a high arch, and he grinned as he noticed a telling detail. The second toes of each foot were a bit longer than the big toes. In folklore, that had been an indication that the person was a lycanthrope, a werewolf. From his own experience, though, women with toes like that could and would respond to rougher and more primitive behavior and treatment than most. He didn’t quite understand the connection, and it wasn’t always true, but was true often enough for him to consider it reliable. He lowered her leg gently to the blanket and continued his inspection.

She had nice legs, on the slim side, but strong. He remembered the struggle she’d put up last night, and how she’d nearly walked him into the ground trying to catch her before that. She had a nice, trim torso too. There was a faint ventral depression running down from her navel, bisecting the smooth little bulge of her belly, and he traced it down to the first straggling curly hairs. They were a half-shade or so darker than the curly mop on her head, about the same shade as her delicately arched eyebrows.

He ran a finger slowly through that little thicket, up and down. She didn’t seem to even notice, except for a weak stirring and a low murmur. The tops of her thighs did not touch. Between them nestled a very cute little pussy. It looked a little red and raw from last night’s hard use. He could almost swear it was pouting at him. He ran his finger lightly across it, along the furrow between the fleshy outer lips, and was rewarded with another sleepy stirring and low wordless murmur. In her sleep, she raised her arms slowly up over her head. She stretched on the blanket, slowly arching her back before falling back, once again limply asleep, head lolling to one side.