A Cow Named Alice Pt. 01

Alice was naked, blinded, and bound. Her wrists each tied separately, as were her legs -- all the way up to her knees, but no further. She tried to peek beneath the bag over her head, but she was still groggy, and her eyes were sensitive to the light. The ground was warm, possibly artificially so. She struggled to put together a coherent line of thought, able only to dwell on her surroundings.

The ground was warm, yes. There was some substrate on it, something insulating and soft -- a wool blanket? But coarse too. Grass? Dried leaves? Hay? She could feel the roughness of it on her bare skin while she tried to move up. As she did so, she realized there was something around her neck. A loosely-fitting rope. She felt like narrating her situation, but her voice caught as a wave of emotion came over her, causing her to tear up.

The grogginess was beginning to wear off, and the first thing it left her with was the sober realization that this was not some fantasy or a dream -- this was distressingly real. She felt heavy and tired, some part of her wanted to believe that this was just a waking dream -- that in a few moments she would wake up next to...

Next to who? She fiddled around in her memory trying to recall who that was. A dinner, a very expensive dinner. Paid for by that same who... who was it? She remembered a smile, a genuine smile. She remembered salivating a little when their eyes looked her over.

Despite the morbidity of her present situation, she remembered how good that felt. She hadn't just been wanted. She had been objectified -- seen as a fresh piece of meat. Seen as flesh to be prodded and jabbed and whipped and fucked mercilessly. But there was something more in that... that man... something more in that man's eyes.

Her mind flashed back to her body as she tried to heave herself up. The ropes around her legs were tight, almost to the point of constricting circulation. Those around her wrists seemed to disappear into the substrate as she tried to find where they were tied down. She attempted to raise herself up onto her knees, but the ropes around her wrists only allowed about one foot of slack. Perhaps if she bent over, she might, just barely, be able to remove the fabric covering her face. She rotated her wrists and leaned in as much as possible, only to find that the rope around her neck prevented her from bowing all the way forward. She gagged a little as the thing restrained her, but composed herself to try again.

Her index and middle fingers could almost, only at their tips, feel the cover. It was a thick and rough burlap, she had known that by the feeling on her cheeks. It occurred to her that her whole body might be scraped up by the substrate and the ropes, and the cloth. She shook her head, tears dripping down her face, and tried one more time. For an instant, a smidge of the cloth was caught in her left, but she accidentally released it. She cursed herself, but tried again.

This time, she pinched the fabric and tugged. It was loose around her head, although still heavy. It strained her fingers to try and remove it, but with each second of effort, it got easier. She could feel her hair tied down behind her head slipping out from under the mask, releasing more of the burlap for her hand to actually grab, and she tore it off, tossing it to the side.

The motion and the sudden light left her dizzy. She was so high, up on her knees. She fell face-first back onto the substrate, and coughed. Her eyes were red and her face was soaking wet, but she smiled. A small victory, maybe even an intended one, but a victory no less. Alice realized that her dizziness wasn't merely due to the sudden light exposure. She was genuinely a little nauseous. Maybe it was just that she hadn't eaten. It felt different though. As her body hit the ground she also felt a shock of tenderness from her chest. She couldn't remember which one it was, but when she was younger, around sixteen, she had started on her first birth control pills. The brand escaped her mind, "lev" something, "Levelin?" "Levelor?" this nausea, tenderness, and discomfort eerily reminded her of it. She'd since moved on from it, but the memory of uncomfortable mornings lingered. This was a very similar, hormonal sensation.

She shook her head on the ground, still vaguely hopeful that this was a dream. This was just her sleeping mind putting together old memories to deliver on a theme. She started to open her eyes, starting by squinting. Pink and white lights on the edges of the room flooded her vision, even if they were dim. She smiled. Dim, soft, comforting colors were a small pleasure, but it helped a little.

Her vision was blurry but quickly focusing. She looked around her and realized there were four walls, and she was laid at the center of the square. There was something written in big letters on each of the three she could see -- it would be a challenge to turn herself around to read the words behind her.

Alice laid her head down and took a deep breath. There was certainly a door. There was certainly a way to untie herself. She would escape, and... she paused. She was naked, without her phone, without her keys. That didn't matter. She would escape and find a way home, but for right now she needed to get out of these restraints.

She got back up onto her knees and surveyed the room one more time. The words on the wall in front of her read out, in big, white, letters. "HAPPY COWS MOO."

The words on the wall to her left were written in a familiar cursive, "Obedient Cows Moo"

On her right they read, "Desperate Cows Moo."

She twisted her back to look at the wall behind her, confirming that it read, "Good Cows Moo."

She muttered out, quietly, hoarsely, "What the fuck."

A mechanical thud rang from somewhere else in the building. She could make out the outline of a door in the wall behind her, but quickly twisted herself back to face the front wall. She remained perfectly still, holding herself prostrate before the three words staring her down. White, soft letters backlit by pink, dim light. HAPPY COWS MOO. Her mind raced as full lucidity arrived. She felt a gentle rumbling as she laid on the ground, but no more noise came.

She sighed in relief, and began to work at her bindings. Her wrist restrains were slack enough to let her dig into the substrate, pulling and tossing at the hay to try and find a bottom.

"No..." She muttered as she dug deeper, "No, no, no, no..." Her voice was normally soft and melodic. Tears and nerves and a lingering hoarseness masked that, but one could still hear the smooth tone beneath. "No..." One final no quickly echoed through the room as she found the bottom of the substrate. The ropes descended through two holes in the floor. She pulled back, and the ropes were fed out through the holes. She lowered her arms, and the ropes were tugged back in by some contraption. No knots to untie. She looked at the knots on her wrists, and started to pick at them.

The ropes themselves were coated in a thin layer of plastic, or glaze. Regardless of what it was, she needed to pierce through it before she could have any hope of untying herself. Either that, or find a knife. She realized that her fingernails had been cut short. Not only that, but it seemed that they were methodically, carefully done so. Not torn or damaged -- clipped, almost manicured -- with precision and attention. She tried to raise one up to her teeth to make it just a little more jagged, but was met by immediate resistance from the rope around her neck.

She continued to pick at the plasticky surface of the ropes. It was tedious, The sound of her fingernails clicking around the room alongside her panicked breathing. She hadn't stopped crying, it had left her hiccupping, causing her arms to jostle while she worked at the knot. The tedium gave her the place of mind to try and contemplate her situation further.

Who had done this? It had to have been that man. Or was she abducted? Where was she -- how long had it been? It couldn't have been more than one night. Where were her clothes?

She pleaded with herself, "Someone will rescue me." Her thoughts echoed in her head, but she dared not speak. If her captors hadn't noticed her yet, then it would cost her everything to be noticed now. Her fingers were sore, and the plastic had barely been pulled back.

"Fuck" One word danced off the walls and settled back into the substrate beneath her. She was shivering now, desperately trying to dig deeper at the plastic. Then, almost miraculously, it gave way a tiny bit. Just a millimeter, nothing more. But a hole through it into the rope underneath was clear. With renewed strength, Alice dug harder. Only a little more and it would peel off, and she could begin untying herself.

Just as she began to pull on the plastic, another loud thud came from above her -- almost immediately above her. She looked back at her wrists and frantically clawed at the rope, trying desperately to get closer to escape. "Holy shit..." Her voice was as close to silent as she could get.

Sweat rolled down her brow as she kept picking, but despite the noise from above, nothing came. She was able to remove some of the plastic from her left wrist. It was ready to be peeled off, and she slid her index finger under the layer, and began to pull. Almost effortlessly, it sheared off in a long, thick line, going all around the outside of the rope.

Enough came off that she felt she'd be able to untie the knot on her left. Holding the plastic up in front of her, she noticed that it was in cow-print. Black and white. She tossed it underneath her, and began to remove the knot from her wrist.

Another thud, much closer to her level, followed by the sound of footsteps. She silenced herself and threw her body to the ground. She grunted in discomfort as her breasts were met by the floor. Her sweat flowed into her eyes, causing her to tear up even more. She realized how thirsty she was, and swallowed down a bit of thick, mucous-rich saliva. The footsteps came closer, got louder, harsher, but just as soon as they came, they ascended. Up a set of stairs beyond the walls of the room, and out the same door that had slammed shut minutes before.

It closed behind the abductor. Alice looked back down to her wrist. The knot was complex, and incredibly tight. She could only barely loosen it, but that was enough to slide her thin wrist out of the binding. She stretched her left arm out as well as she could, relieved and invigorated by the possibility of escape. She couldn't quite reach her leg restraints, so focused back on the right wrist. Peeling at the plastic was harder with the left hand, but she felt safer, now that the abductor was a known entity. Something above her, behind a thick, shut door.

The room was silent, save for her terrified breathing and the dull hum of the lights. A fainter rumble in the background may have been the air conditioning, or possibly the din of machines doing whatever is done in an abductor's compound.

Alice smiled as the plastic on her right wrist began to wear loose. She was seconds away.

The door above her creaked open, followed by those methodical footsteps from before. It slammed behind the abductor. Alice gasped and pulled harder at the plastic cover. Just a few seconds, she would be out and able to break free.

The footsteps were puzzling through the floor above. Their motion was unpredictable, but purposeful. She could tell that whoever was coming was making a beeline for her. They knew she was about to break free. She gripped the plastic cover and tore it as hard as she could. It came off with a good bit of effort, and she was able to loosen the right knot.

They were getting closer, but Alice was only half out of the bindings. There was no way to get her legs out by the time they arrived. She quickly threw her wrists back into the bindings and returned to a prone position. She could easily remove her hands, and maybe her captor would let their guard slip.

Then what? She had no plan, but at least she was one step closer to escape.

Each footstep clapped through the halls behind her as the abductor drew closer. She shivered more with each passing second. The door behind her clicked as the lock on it switched open. It swung out, and the footsteps entered the room. Alice gasped again, sniveling and shaking as the abductor drew closer.

She dared not even look up. A hand took her right wrist by the knot, pulling it up slightly. She heard the abductor squatting down to look closely. She glanced at the hand, realizing it was wearing a black leather glove with three vertical stripes along the back of the palm, between the knuckles.

"What. Are. You." The abductor's voice spat out the words, and Alice could hear the smile on his lips. It was a man's voice.

Alice shook as spittle hit her back, "What?" Her voice barely worked the syllable out of her lips.

The man threw her hand back down on the ground and tutted a few times before removing his glove. He stood up, tossing the glove directly in front of Alice.

He exhaled long and sharp through his nose, and repeated himself, "I said. What. Are. You." It didn't have the cadence of a question. It was a statement, no, an imperative.

"I..." Alice tried to think of an answer that would please the abductor or appease him, but before she could make another sound, three bolts of searing, bright, and intense pain hit her ass. The sound of a riding crop echoed twice through the room. She could feel that the strikes may have been more than skin deep. In a seconds the spot where he hit her was emitting dull, numbing waves of discomfort.

"I, I'm Alice Wa..." Again, four shots in quick succession, on the exact same spot on her rear. She crumpled quietly into the ground and sobbed.

The abductor sighed and bent back down to Alice, this time on her left side. He took a knee, and stroked her cheek with a bare finger.

Alice had half a mind to rear her head to the side and bite. To grab his wrist and snap a finger off. Even if it wouldn't stop him, it would make him back away for a time. She turned, tried to make him think she was comfortable with him there, leaning into the movement of his warm, coarse hand.

Just as she did so, he backed away from her slightly, took his hand and grabbed her long brown hair in his fist, and pulled her head back. She yipped at the sudden pain and tears coated her face.

She could now see his face. He had short dark hair and tan skin. His eyes were a light amber, almost shockingly light. He had that same brutal grin he'd worn the night they met, only now the right side of his lower lip was caught bitten between his canines. He slipped it back down and licked across his upper teeth.

The man tugged Alice's hair back harder, put his knee right into her side, and with his left hand pulled her face up at the letters on the wall, using two fingers to grip her eyelids open: HAPPY COWS MOO.

"You came to me because you wanted something. Because you wanted to become..." he gripped her hair harder on that word, pausing and savoring it, repeating the phrase, "Because you wanted to become something."

Alice remained speechless, only gasping and panting. If she had so desired that, she couldn't, for the life of her, remember what she had asked. With the grogginess from before, she doubted she would be able to put together anything from the last few nights until she was out and able to compose herself.

The man waited for a response, but hearing nothing, spoke, "So I ask again. What. Are. You."

Alice panted, breathing faster, quickly approaching hyperventilation. She hadn't realized it until her breathing picked up, but when the man put his knee at her chest, she was forced further up off the ground. Her tits were suspended and each time she inhaled and exhaled, she became more cognizant of their weight. She had never found herself on all-fours that much, but they were never this heavy.

As though he could read her mind, the man let go of her eyes and took his left hand to grip one of her tits.

The sensation of sharp pain and simultaneously erotic pleasure shocked Alice. She twisted her head at the man, who grinned and pinched on her nipple. Alice gasped and shouted, "Fuck!" before tumbling over, halfway onto her side.

Her eyes widened as he continued to squeeze her tit. The warmth of his hand, at once discomforting and pleasing, was relentless. She writhed on the ground, helpless to resist him. So much of her wanted to, so much of her wanted to turn and snap at him. To grab him and tie those ropes at her wrists around his neck and watch him suffocate on the floor.

And yet some deep-seeded part of her pushed her to lean into him. What had she asked him. What had she wanted? She screamed out again as his hands dug into her skin. His nails were cut short, just like hers, but they still were able to scratch long, red lines on her chest.

He panted out, "What do you want..." He grinned and pulled his hand down to her nipple and tugged down sharply, forcing her forward. But he said nothing.

"Please..." Her voice was shot as he twisted and tugged. Alice's right arm spasmed on the floor. "Please..." she looked up at him, hoping that somehow he would relent. Freedom was barely a question in her mind now. She wanted an answer, she wanted to know what fool's bargain she had made to put herself here, wherever "here" was.

But the man didn't answer her questions, instead offering a puzzled look, "A pity. You can't say much. I'd thought you'd hold up much better, have a lot more words to work with. A fucking shame really..." He pulled down on her breast again, then held it up a little, almost admiring its weight.

"So many simple, shameful things with you. So many things you wanted fixed," He dropped the tit back down, causing Alice to sigh with relief.

Alice sniffled out, "What... what did I ask you for?"

He shook his head, "You're a damn lightweight if you can't remember last night," he started to get up, but stopped himself. He looked down at her. Alice felt his eyes on her skin, just like how she remembered it the night before. Those were the hungry eyes, unsatiated by food or wine, looking for some deeper need.

If it weren't for the throbbing pain in her ass and tits, she might have taken some greater pleasure, knowing that for all his power over her, he still, in some abstract way, needed her. But for now, that minute power offered little respite. She was shaking, if only barely bruised. He had only hit her seven or so times, and she had been crumpled like a sheet of stray paper.

He bent back down and tugged her head up by her hair again.

"Read that." She looked at the words on the wall.

"Happy Cows Moo." Alice's breath caught on the last syllable, unable to utter the word "Moo"

"And that," He ratcheted her heat ninety-degrees to the right.

"Obedient Cows Moo." Again, she refused, if subconsciously, to submit and say it.

"And this," Another twist, one-hundred-and-eighty to her left.

"Desperate Cows Moo." Alice looked at the face of her captor, and saw him frowning.

"Fucking shame you can't even Moo right yet." He dropped her bunched-up hair and she fell face-first into the hay.

"What?" She spat out a bit of dried grass, and felt his foot pressing down on her back, forcing her tits into the warm mass of plants below her. His weight wasn't forceful, rather almost comfortable. But then the boot pushed harder, and her nipples were grazed against the sharper strands of the hay, and she winced.

"You came to me for one purpose. It all boiled down to one, simple word."

Alice turned her head to the left, looking up, scared and confused, asking naively, "Moo?"

Without another word, the man released his foot, bent over, and let a hand run smoothly through her hair.

"Good. Good girl." Alice shivered, goosebumps rising down her arms and back. She couldn't think of a word to say, but before she could, he cleared his throat and put his lips right against her ear.