Through the Looking Glass Ch. 04

"If you've hurt her in any way, I'll kill all of you... and I'll start with the two of you!"

This time, the blonde spoke up, "She hasn't been harmed; nobody will hurt her. You, on the other hand, are going to be harmed... where it hurts you the most."

Another point. "You call being kidnapped 'not harmful'?"

The blonde stepped up to Mitch and stared him down, "Look, you're here for a reason; someone will be down to explain it to you... though I doubt you'll like the explanation." With that, she snapped her fingers at the brunette and the two of them left the room.

"Two more points," he mumbled. So far, they drugged him and Lisa, taken them to a place where no one could easily find them, and left Mitch immobile for the time being. But telling him there really was a reason behind all of this and that someone, who was in charge no doubt, would tell him why just made the score five to three in his favor.

The 'why' scared him, and for the next couple of hours visions of terrible things went through his head. He was even more concerned about Lisa, and did his best to push away any thought of what was happening to her. They said she was fine, but what if they were lying?

Another hour went by with nobody coming into the room. Mitch was still determined to free himself from the shackles, but his arms were getting tired from being suspended over his head and trying to yank the cords out of the framework. The anesthetic they used on him was still making him drowsy, and he kept nodding off, exhausted.

Finally, someone came back into the room and woke him up; it was the blonde from earlier, carrying a bucket. She walked up to him and held the can in front of his penis.

"Piss, if you have to," she said, nonchalantly.

Mitch relaxed and let his bladder empty into the bucket, all the while not taking his eyes off of her.

"Thank you," he said, "It's nice to know somebody cares around here."

"Just shut up and piss."

Mitch ignored the half ass order and continued, "You don't like me very much, do you?"

"How did you guess?" she sneered.

"I haven't done anything to you; I don't even know you. Why shoot your venom at me?"

Mitch finished urinating and the blonde reached down and tapped his cock with two fingers, then removed the bucket and started to walk away.

But Mitch stopped her with, "You didn't answer my question. Why do you hate me? What have I done?"

The blonde turned sharply towards him and answered, "Because you're a male."

Another point was scored; that told him that this whole thing wasn't personal for her; she hated men in general.

"That's it? You don't like me because of my gender? That's no reason; it's an excuse."

"Be quiet." The woman's nostrils flared with anger and Mitch could see that he was hitting the right level of annoyance. He continued as the woman knelt down over a drain grate set in the floor and poured the contents of the bucket into it.

"What about your boss? Does she have a reason? Since you don't like men, I'm assuming your leader is a 'she'. What's her reason?"

"Shut up!"

Mitch's eyes widened at her shout, but went on with his questioning, "Your group must have some kind of an agenda, and it involves men suffering... or worse. Is that it? Some kind of vendetta against the men in this world? Doesn't matter who, right? Any man; one who's single, married, a father perhaps? Do you even know who you're torturing after you kidnap them or is it just a random pick?"

The blonde dropped the bucket and charged up to Mitch, ready to backhand him. Mitch just stared directly into her eyes and prepared himself for the blow, but the woman stopped in mid swing, unsure.

One more point, he mused. "Your boss doesn't want me roughed up before she can get a crack at me, does she?"

Breathing hard through her nose, the blonde lowered her hand and backed away.

"Are you mad because she gets to have all the fun... and you don't?"

She just scowled at Mitch, retrieving the bucket, and said, "You're in no position to be cocky. In fact, soon you won't be 'cocky' at all."

"I've got nothing better to do at the moment," he replied with a sarcastic smirk, "I want to see my wife."

"You'll see her soon enough," was his response, "We brought her food, but she won't eat. You brainwashed her that well, male?"

Mitch glared at her, confused, "'Brainwashed'? What the Hell are you talking about?"

The woman headed for the door, but Mitch's shout made her pause.

"Answer me, you bitch!"

The woman gripped the door knob tightly and, with an angry huff, left Mitch alone again to think about his and the blonde's latest exchange.

So, this has to do with men. Just males in general, so it's nothing personal. They're doing this for a reason, but I think they're also trying to send somebody a message. But what? And what did that blonde mean by 'brainwashed'? What was she talking...

Mitch stopped his train of thought for a second.

...'brainwashed'...

He remembered what he was talking about earlier with Lisa.

...'"It's the thought of all those women being brainwashed into thinking that forced fornication was acceptable... ...Somebody had to have resented it."'... ...'"but I can't believe there's not one person or group in this world that doesn't like what's going on."'... ...'if there are people in this world who still disapprove of all the sex going on... ...hate doesn't usually die that easily.'...

"Oh, my God," he muttered, "I was right; there is somebody who doesn't like the way things are, and they're taking out on men. What did they do to them? What was it the blonde said?"

'...you, on the other hand, are going to be harmed... where it hurts you the most.'... ...'...in fact, soon you won't be 'cocky' at all."'...

Mitch's eyes widened in horror; he knew what they were doing... what they planned to do with him. The news article... the men who were assaulted... these women were going to...

He looked down at his dangling cock and balls, and shuddered. If something isn't done to stop it from happening, he was going to be castrated... and most likely die, as the others did.

He checked the clock: 9:41; they only had about two hours before the gateway opened and allowed him and Lisa to leave. He tried again to break loose from the shackles, thrashing about to loosen the cords and strap; he had to get out of this before...

Mitch looked up when he heard the sound of a sharp squeak, and saw part of the bracket that held the tie cord to his right arm cuff canted at an awkward angle; it was coming loose from the frame. He pulled again, and more of the bracket popped out; he was almost free. He was prepared to try a third time, but stopped in mid pull when the door opened.

A group of ten women entered the room, including the two that took care of him during his stay. Then Mitch's eyes lit up when Lisa entered with another woman pushing her along, and her eyes went wide with shock when she saw Mitch's chained naked body.

"What have you done to him?" she bellowed. Lisa tried to charge towards Mitch to free him, but two women grabbed her and held her back, "Let me go!"

"Quiet!"

The command came from the last woman to come in. She was somewhat tall with long shapely legs, well built with a set of boobs that would put most centerfolds to shame, and long straight hair tinted auburn. A pair of large lens, wireless glasses were perched atop a small nose giving her an appearance of an intellectual, but the dour look on her face could have dried a martini. At her loud order, the pair of women held Lisa in place forcing an arm behind her back to make her comply.

Mitch just glared at her, "So... you're the one in charge, I take it."

"You take correctly, male," was her answered.

"So you're the one who's going to tell me why we're here?"

The lady batted her big baby blue eyes and cracked a smile that would make the dead cringe, "Gladly. You're here to be punished for your crimes, male."

"What crimes? I've done nothing."

She raised an eyebrow at him, "Oh, haven't you? How many women have you stuck your... thing into, male?"

Mitch looked at her skeptically with that question. 'Thing'?

"The only woman I make love with is my wife."

"So she really is your wife?"

"Yes," Mitch answered hotly, "You saw the rings we wear..."

"Yes, yes," she replied, waving a hand and sounding bored, "she told us all about it. You're scientists and you don't wear jewelry in your laboratory, fearing it might interfere with your work, so you wear your rings on necklaces. Whatever." Her bored look changed back to evil, "It still doesn't excuse you from your crimes, male."

"What crimes!?" Mitch's yell startled the group.

"The crimes that all men..." she shouted back, but caught herself before continuing. Correcting herself, she started again with a lower tone, "The crimes that you commit every time you stick your... thing into your wife, male."

The correction didn't get passed Mitch, "'All men'? So, this whole thing really isn't personal; you just hate men because they're here. Sex between consenting adults is not a crime, lady... and my name is not 'male', it's Mitchell."

"Shut up, male!" She charged up to Mitch and backhanded him, leaving a trickle of blood on his lip. She let him turn his head back before continuing, "I don't care what your name is."

"Leave him alone, you cunt!" Lisa shouted out, but then cried out in pain when the woman holding her cranked her arm up.

"No, of course not," Mitch said, his mouth sore, "You don't care who somebody is or what they do or what kind of life they have. All you care about is if they're men, and whatever kind of sick pleasure you get out of torturing them. Who are you?"

The lady turned with drama and said, "We are the Woman's Resistance Force. We resist any and all action taken to force females into becoming breeding stock for the state. We resist attempts to condition us to please males. Males are the ones who placed us into this Hell in the first place, with their pompous egos and their fraudulent sex mandate. We will change things; women will no longer be subservient to males, bending over for them so they can get a piece of ass whenever they want."

Mitch shook his head in contempt, "I'm afraid you're too late, miss. By about four decades. There is no more mandate; people are having sex because they want to, not because they have to. If you don't want to participate, all you have to do is say 'no'."

"I already..." she started, but cut herself off. "You, and every male out there, are guilty. Every time you stick your... thing into your wife, you're raping her, because the government told you to. Because the government told all men to rape women."

"That's horseshit!" Mitch was starting to turn red, his anger building up, "The government isn't making anybody do anything, anymore; they stopped that sort of thing years ago... and from the looks of you, they stopped it before you were even born. Why should I be punished for something someone else did before you and I even existed?"

"You all... you deserve it, male." the woman said with venom as she neared the table next to her, the one draped in the cloth.

Again, Mitch heard the slip and pressed her, "What happened to you?"

That question made her stop, her hand hovering over the table; that's what gave her away in Mitch's eyes.

"That's it, isn't it? Something happened to you that made you take this vendetta of yours this far. Because that's what it really is: a vendetta, against all men; to get even with men for what one of them did to you. Am I right?"

The woman didn't make a move; all she did was glare at Mitch with hateful eyes.

Mitch laughed in his throat, "So, I was wrong; this whole thing is personal, after all... but only to you and not these other ladies, right?" He looked out over the crowd of women, "What do you think of your leader, now?"

"Shut up," she whispered.

Mitch eyed her carefully, hearing the same annoyance in her voice as he heard from the blonde, "Who hurt you? Somebody hurt you, didn't they. A long time ago I'll bet, when you were young... too young to realize you had the right to say 'no', or too young to fight back."

"Shut up." Her objections were getting louder.

"Was it someone you didn't know?" Mitch looked at her face to see any reaction, "Someone close to you?" There it was: a twitch at the corner of her mouth, "Someone you thought you could trust?"

"Shut up!" She edged closer to Mitch, her fists balled in anger.

Lisa noticed the grip on her arm was looser now; the ladies in the group were listening to the exchange with interest.

"Was it a friend?" Mitch continued probing, seeing the woman start to let her guard down, "A relative?" There was that twitch again, "Someone in your family, huh? Look, miss: I'm not going to pretend to know how you're feeling about it, because I couldn't possibly know. I do know that you're angry about it, and I can understand why; I'd be mad as Hell, too. But I'm not going to wait around here to subject myself to your brand of justice for something I had no part in. Surely, the one who attacked you was punished for it."

The woman flew into a rage and slapped Mitch across the face, leaving a red welt behind on his cheek, "SHUT UP!"

Cranking his head back around, Mitch kept going, "I take it that was a 'no'." He spat the blood out of his mouth and let her answer.

"Nobody was punished for it!" she screamed, "Everyone knew, and none of them were punished! My family wasn't, my friends and teachers weren't, my father..." She immediately clamped her mouth shut and headed back to the table.

"Your father?" Mitch realized now who it was that had hurt her, "Miss, I am so sorry he did that to you; he had absolutely no right at all, no man does. And yes, somebody should have answered for it... but not me, or the others that have died."

That remark got the attention of everyone else in the room.

"'Died'?" one of the women asked, "What is he talking about, Carla?"

Their leader turned on the one with the question, "Shut up, Dora! It doesn't matter, as long as we carry out our plan!"

"Carla," Mitch called out, "didn't you tell them?"

She ignored his question and pulled the cloth off the table. Lisa gasped at what she saw, and Mitch started to turn white.

On the small stand laid sharp objects. Very sharp objects. Blades, in various shapes and sizes, and all stained with blood. Mitch could see marks of tarnish and corrosion on the surfaces, and knew that's where the others contracted their infections from... and died from them.

"Don't you think you should sterilize those before you use them?" Mitch asked, his stomach flip-flopping, "Or am I going to wind up like the others you've mutilated?"

Another of the group stepped forward, "Carla, what's he talking about?"

"Nothing!" she snapped.

"You mean you don't know?" Mitch asked the ladies in the crowd, "Don't you read the news?"

"We meet down here..." started the one who spoke up.

"Shut up, Pam!"

Pam ignored Carla and went on, "We meet down here where it's safe; we only go up top to look after our stores and businesses, get supplies..."

"And get more 'guilty' men to prosecute?"

Pam looked away from Mitch, but continued, "We don't stay up there long enough to check on current events."

"But I bet Carla does," Mitch's comment dripped its own venom this time, "She's your only source of information, right? So she didn't feel it necessary to tell you that the six guys you butchered before me are dead, infected by the tools you gals used to castrate them."

"Not quite," Carla finally spoke up, fingering a particular blade, "One died from blood loss, another committed suicide, and one died from shock at the loss of his precious... thing."

"You can't even say it, can you!" Mitch was beyond pissed, now, "It's called a penis!"

"Shut up, male!"

"Mitch! It's also called a dick, a cock, a prick, a meat pole; take your pick!" He readied his hand, the one with the weak arm cuff bracket attached to it.

Carla quickly gripped the handle of a long butcher's knife and started towards Mitch, ready to use it on his cock. Her lip curled up into a sneer as she advanced, but she stopped abruptly when Pam stepped in front of her.

"So what he's saying is true? Those others... are dead?"

Carla lifted the knife to Pam's face, "Get out of the way."

"Answer me!"

"So they died; so what? A few less males in the world causing problems and raping every woman they see!"

Pam backed up, "You lied to us."

"That's not what we're about, Carla!" This came from the stocky brunette, "We want to change things for the better, not make things worse by killing people! You told us the doctors could reattach their penises, later! You lied about that, too?"

"Their p-p-pe-penises," Carla sputtered as she walked over to the curtain on the wall and drew it back, "You mean these?"

Every women gasped and/or yelped at what was on the shelf behind the curtain. A set of Mason jars lined the shelf, and in each one... a severed penis, preserved in fluid. Three of the women, one of which was holding Lisa, turned away from the grisly sight, with one of them throwing up. The others were too shocked to move.

Mitch quietly pulled on the weakened bracket to loosen it more, and was ready for whatever came next. He was hoping it wasn't what he thought it might be. He glanced at the clock; they were down to thirty-two minutes, if the clock was right.

It finally dawned on the group of women, and Pam was the first to say it.

"You're insane."

Carla glanced at her, a wild look in her eye, "Not insane... driven. Driven to make sure that every male pays for what they've done to us."

"You mean 'done to you'," Pam corrected, "and none of them did anything to you. You've used our cause for your own purposes, and... and six men have died."

"Seven."

With that, Carla shrieked in rage and plunged toward Mitch. Lisa screamed and twisted away from the one holding her, then charged towards Carla.

But she stopped when Mitch's hand came down and grabbed Carla's wrist, the blade just an inch from his member. As the pair struggled to get the upper hand, Lisa leaped in and grabbed the dangling cord now loose from the frame and wrapped it around Carla's neck.

"Get that away from my husband's cock, you bitch!" she roared. Carla kept trying to plunge the knife down, but Lisa tightened the cord, making her choke, "Drop it!"

Losing air, Carla let the knife clatter to the floor. Lisa bent down and picked it up, then splayed it across Carla's throat.

The others didn't make a move until she yelled, "Get him out of that!" Two women lunged forward and started undoing Mitch's cuffs as Lisa continued, "If any of you make a move I don't like," she pressed the blade into Carla's neck, making her flinch and producing a tiny rivulet of blood, "she dies first!"

"What are you doing?" The shout came from the short haired blonde from earlier, her expression one of utter shock, "Why are you releasing that male?"

"Because we were lied to, Nicole," answered Pam as she unclasped the last cuff from Mitch's limbs, "this was never about our cause, it was about vengeance; hers..." she pointed to Carla, then went wide eyed and stared at Nicole, "...and yours."

Nicole darted her look from woman to woman, not sure what to do next.

"Yes, now I remember," said Pam, inching towards her, "You got pissed off when you wanted to cut the first guy we had here, but Carla wouldn't let you. She wanted that for herself. You threw a fit when you couldn't have a little vengeance, too," Nicole started to back away from Pam and the rest of the women when they started advancing, "Someone hurt you too, didn't they. Was it your father, too?"

Nicole's face hardened and she grumbled, "My brother."