Chasing Paradise Ch. 13

Ten minutes left, she thought. How had she felt when she could feel that countdown in her hammering pulse? It wasn't something you forgot. Every shadow was a hunter, every twig snapping and branch falling a sure sign they were on your tail, you wanted to run, and run, and run until they were behind you, far in the distance, and you were beyond reach. None of that mattered. Speed was not a solution. Her pulse may have been hammering the whole time she was one of the prey, but it was while she stalked through bushes, crawled through grass, slipped past would-be captors; she'd won by trying to make as little use of that adrenaline as possible, and used her brain instead.

In her darker moments she remembered making her way to what had been marked on the watch's map as a waterfall pool. It had been the middle of the second day. Her canteen was empty, her throat was dry, and they'd been told any water source on the island was safe enough to drink. The pool was part of a stream down from the higher areas of the island which were probably a dormant volcano and at any other time, Jacinda thought, it would have been so beautiful. As she approached the pool clearly another woman had had the same idea, it was the one who'd sat next to her on the plane. Auburn hair around a soft face, with a beautiful smile; Jacinda asked Dickie if he'd look her up in the slave registry afterwards, even with the slaveband and the bruises she still looked gorgeous in the post-orgy pictures put up as part of the reviews of her sexual prowess.

Jacinda had been about to greet the woman as she finished filling and closed her water bottle when a hunter had dropped from a tree. He used her harness to pull her into and then under the water, in a tangle of human limbs that promised nothing good for her. Too terrified to move Jacinda had frozen and watched as with speed and efficiency pre-looped zip ties bound the girl's hands behind her back, and then her ankles together. A third zip tie then fed through the black harness behind her and secured her hands so there was no way to bring them in front of her.

The restraints were barely in place and the hunter had his cock out and between her thighs, a hand on the back of her head forcing it under the surface of the waterfall pool. Jacinda watched the girl struggle, fingers flexing in futile frustration against the plastic that cut into her wrists, wrenching one way then the other to free something. The hunter knew what he was doing too. He allowed her a half breath every so often, her hair plastering her face, she was basically blind, and slowly running out of time as he kept on fucking her. Eventually the struggling was done, and he gathered her hair inside his fist, pulling her exhausted but gasping from the water, re-angling himself so that his thrusts forced her up and not forwards. After a few seconds that felt like hours he looked dead at Jacinda.

"It's all right, little slut. I've got what I'm after. I'll let some other hunter claim you." he said, never taking his eyes off her.

Jacinda had moved slowly forwards, the pitter patter of the gentle waterfall down rocks and into the pool was background noise to the slapping flesh, and near sobs of the woman being raped in front of her.

"Please, please, help me, I'm not a slave yet, help me PLEASE!" the girl had shouted to her, eyes wide in fear, her neck and head being pulled at a truly uncomfortable looking angle.

Jacinda had moved closer to the pool, blood coursing in her veins even as she tried to stay calm, her fight or flight reactions on full edge to deal with something she perceived as an overwhelming threat.. The man smiled at her in a vaguely predatory way, and slowed his thrusting rhythm.

"Careful now, girly, I'd consider your next move exceptionally well. Come after me and you both end up in chains." He looked her up and down a few times before making a few long powerful thrusts just to drive the point home. The girl yelped as each one pulled ferociously at her hair and neck.

Jacinda moved cautiously to the banks of the pool, her boots right at the edge of the water. She looked into the girl's eyes, saw the pain from having her hair yanked, the tears flowing from the shame of being raped. The woman spoke to her again, softly, pleadingly, "Please...please help me."

Jacinda picked up the woman's water bottle off the floor and took a swig. The water was cool and fresh. "I'd help you, but if I did that would be just one more hunter after my ass. Sorry. Enjoy your rapemeat, mister." Jacinda had said, trying to keep her tone as light as she could.

The woman's eyes had widened in anger and more than a little despair, her hopes crushed. "You bitch, you cunt, I hope you get hunted down and made into a painslut I ho--" her words were cut short as her head was thrust back under the water.

"Good choice, girly, you're a bit too....blonde for my tastes anyway. Still I suppose I could shave it all off and get you a nice full head puppy mask. Stick around if you want it to happen."

Jacinda grinned at him. "I think I'll be going, I was always more of a pony girl anyway."

That day she'd wandered off through the forest, heaving distant cries for help growing quieter as she went. She'd made it right to the end of the hunt off the back off that one hunter deciding he had the pussy he wanted right there, chasing Jacinda might just lead to his new favourite cunt's escape. Jacinda was, in fact, one of the rare girls who ever did make it all the way to the end of the hunt. It didn't stop her thinking about that girl, though, the pain and fear in her eyes as she'd walked away.

Of course, all that had changed since, she thought. Her owner had tired of her after a little over a year. Dickie had had the girl followed in the slave registry ever since Jacinda had asked about her, and her asking price at sale was barely more than a few hundred dollars. CaptiveCunt they'd renamed her, it suited her better than her original servonym of AssGobbller, anyway. Now whenever Jacinda felt mentally weak or stressed, like her freedom wasn't worth it all she had to do was go into the dungeon at home and flog her own personal auburn-haired slavecunt for a while. The girl had other duties, mostly keeping the dungeon clean, occasionally relieving Dickie if she was all that was available, but mostly she was there so Jacinda could hear her beg, to keep Jacinda's heart as hard as it could be to other women. Every beat of the flogger, every cry of pain took her back to that moment at the waterfall where she decided the only person really worth saving, in the end, was herself.