Chasing Paradise Ch. 19

"Yes, Master," Evie replied, sinking to her knees once more and proceeded to lick and drool over the portions of his cock that were available outside of Sammy's backside. She was more than happy to help her Master enjoy her new slave sister to her fullest.

Now at the banding post Evie felt like she had sobered up from the previous intoxication on the journey from the temple. She had complied every step of the way, but Sammy's frantic struggles, and hyperventilation as she begged to be set free led to her being tied tightly, the ropes passing cruelly between her lips and under her jaw to muffle the noise.

Now they both knelt here on the cold floor, both stripped of their harnesses, their ropes re-tied. Evie's eyes watered slowly as she looked at Staunton in the chair opposite, the tiniest of tears gathering at their corners. Sammy breathed hard next to her, chewing slightly on the painfully tight rope gag and subconsciously trying to shake it off every so often. Evie knew this was going to be more difficult for Sammy than herself, at least she knew Staunton wanted her, Sammy had no such reassurance other than her morning ass rape which only reinforced that Staunton noticed her, not that he liked her.

For a moment Evie's eyes wandered to the two neckbands in Staunton's hand. She felt so vulnerable, in a way she never had before. He caught her looking and her eyes turned toward the floor in a flash. "Something to say Evie?"

"I'm scared, Staunton....Master," she replied without a thought.

"It's in your nature as a woman. It's the possibility of failure. With no male to hold your leash, to guide and shape you, your growth is wild and free. The problem will alway remain, though, that it is a fractured, and chaotic growth that benefits no one. Sometimes that growth does nothing more than end up damaging yourself. When you have a Master there are expectations, instead of growing wild you will be made into what you can be. A Master is like a gardener in this respect. We constrain your growth, bind you to paths we desire, sometimes we prune to keep that growth healthy...others we weed out entirely to stop their growth impacting all the good in the garden. You, Evie, I know will blossom...as for this cunt," he looked at Sammy, "I have hopes too. She may never grow as tall or beautiful as yourself but even those flowers that grow deep in the shade of another can add to the beauty of a garden."

Sammy growled at this, her rope gag forcing strings of drool down onto her chest, Evie still saw fear and hate in her eyes. Maybe he was right. The slaves of the hotel harem didn't seem to fear him, they went willingly to punishment and maintenance beatings alike after they were past the initial breaking in stage.

"Master, I...the thought of the pain scares me. What you do to the slaves in the hotel...it seems more than I could bear," Evie said, aware as the words left her mouth that she had not been asked to speak.

Staunton raised an eyebrow, "Come here then," he said softly.

Evie shuffled over on her knees, aware she had not been asked to stand, but could not crawl with her arms bound. Staunton spun her around so she was facing away from him and drew her in so her shoulder blades touched his legs. His left hand reached under her chin and pulled her head back so she was looking straight up at him, his right fondled her breasts.

"Does this scare you?" he asked.

"No, Master" she replied, almost grateful for his touch.

Now his right hand shifted to take a firmer hold of her right breast. "And this?" he asked, his eyes locked with hers.

"No, Master" she replied again. The pressure on her skin was increased, but not uncomfortable, a gentle squeeze at most.

With a flick of his wrist he slapped her breast and Evie yelped more in surprise than pain. "How about that?" he asked, more intensely.

"I..." she started, not knowing what to say. Before the thought could form he landed a second more vicious slap impacting just below the nipple. A sharp short pain radiated for a moment and was gone, leaving...something in its place. Evie couldn't quite work out what, though.

Now her neck was held more tightly, Staunton's expression was concentrated, and he began to alternate breasts, increasing the intensity with each slap. Evie tried to remain impassive but after only a few slaps began to wince and grimace with each blow. The pressure on her throat grew as Staunton took more and more control. Now she barely felt the individual slaps, just a continuous and almost unbearable directionless compulsion where the individual moments of sharp pain had been. Adrenaline coursed through her body forcing a frustrated restlessness but with nowhere to spend it.

Evie gasped for breath as her heart raced from the adrenaline. The slapping was taking more and more out of her, but the hand around her throat stopped her drawing in the breath to replace it. She felt herself drift for a moment, her head felt light but her brain was screaming at her with every survival instinct trying to drop a red mist across her vision. She screwed her eyes shut, then gritted her teeth against the mounting unbearable tension. She could feel herself shaking, her arms pressing against the rope, back arching as she squirmed...and then it stopped. She opened her eyes and looked into Staunton's once more. Her vision was blurred from tears, she felt the pressure on her throat relax and took a deep breath to stop her head from swimming. Her fight or flight response was on high alert still, but she still lacked any useful way to utilise it.

Her breasts stung like crazy, and the skin felt hot but as she looked up but for some reason she couldn't quite understand Evie instinctively knew things were going to be okay.

"You never need to be scared. I'm here to determine what you can and cannot handle, when you need pleasure, when you need pain, when you need freedom and when you need restraint. As your master I know I have your obedience, but what I want from you goes beyond that. Obedience, loyalty, and trust. Do you understand?" asked Staunton.

Evie's brain was swimming, there was pain there she couldn't deny, but the intoxicating cocktail of oxygen, and endorphins rushing through her brain were giving the world an edge she had never known before. "Yes...Master."

"Now," said Staunton, gently placing a slaveband against Evie's neck, "I think it's time we met the new you..."

Yorotani Island - The Hunting Grounds

Sleep had been fitful for Amelia. By her reckoning she'd had maybe a couple of hours, but apparently that was enough for her new stooge to partially come to her senses. The woman was broken, seemingly putting one foot in front of the other only through force of habit rather than because she wanted to make it out of here any more. Amelia wasn't sure what was even motivating her, although having watched how roughly Saffi had been fucked in the ass she'd class that as a pretty big incentive.

Amelia wouldn't feel any guilt when Saffi, the cunt-in-waiting that she was, ended up being nabbed by one cruel asshole or other but she needed Saffi to stay motivated enough to try and make a convincing attempt at escape that distracted from her own personal vanishing act. Amelia looked at the screen on the wristband, they were still moving towards the end goal, but how far away was it? She knew the thing had to be inside two days' walk, and the hunter camp would presumably be somewhere near half way. She could almost taste freedom at this point. Not many of those hunters would be up early after late night antics, and with so many slaves taken already some might even take the day to enslave and rape their new conquests to their heart's content.

She decided to pick up the pace a little, although with the hint from that woman the previous night Amelia reckoned they were already well ahead of where they really should be. The sooner, she thought, this wristband was off her the better though. Every second it stayed there was a second she was in danger of getting snatched and treated the same as the snivelling little Veshyan at her side, "Come on, Saffi, for what this map's worth I think we might be close to the finish!" said Amelia. It was a lie, Amelia had no idea how far they were from their goal, but at least, she thought, it should be a comforting one. The girl had a thousand yard stare, but on hearing those words uncertain steps turned into determined strides. Amelia had exactly the reaction she wanted and inside her head she breathed a sigh of relief.

She glanced at the screen on the wristband. They were well inside the area for the hunt, and the direction marker still said they were headed the right way. It was infuriating that a vague direction was all the guidance they had that they were even vaguely on the right track; Amelia had checked against Saffi's wristband too, and that gave a similarly vague but different and equally unhelpful bearing to their goal. Even with the increase in the amount of ground they were covering each minute the pair were on what would more likely be called a rapid amble than it was to ever be called a run, especially when they were fleeing for the rights to their lives.

For a minute Amelia allowed herself to daydream on what her life would be like on her return. She'd have to get a job, the two year freedom pass would start counting down the second she touched down in Pussiana. She was fairly sure she'd be able to get something in that amount of time though; unpleasant as it was she might have to go for retail work. It was about the only thing available where her father lived, and while she knew it meant serving men and everything that came with that it was better than the alternative. She'd discounted it once before but she had to be real, go beyond her pride. She'd sent one woman on a one way ticket to slavery to buy her freedom and she was about to do it again, she wondered if it would be so bad to discard more of her morality for a chance at the freedom she craved. She felt the daydream washing over her, what would be easiest, she thought, something anyone could do but where she could use her looks. Women's fashion was always a good start point for things like that. She could model things for men, help their slaves get changed, demonstrate restraint points, everything. As a free woman she'd never be short of lecherous men who'd want to see her wear things they were buying for a slave or a wife. Maybe she'd meet some handsome man, a kind one with a well kept slave. He'd come in, fall madly in love with her, marry her the same day, and she'd spend the rest of her happy and slutty little existence in his arms. It was a fantasy. She knew it was a fantasy. It could never be real, and yet she willed herself to live in that small comfortable moment for as long as she dared. That home with the white picket fence, the puppygirl in her basket, and a thoughtful husband felt so close she could taste it. She'd bake while he was at work, go out shopping on her own, live her life. She'd live her life and the first step wrong the BFA would smash in the door and drag her off to the nearest TV studio for a surprise date with Chattelande's most infamous instrument of control.

She cursed. Even in her fantasies she was back in that office in the BFA being raped late into the evening while the director made her watch the latest "judicial proceedings" against girls from the FLF, slaves who disobeyed male authority, and on particularly slow days even those women who simply hadn't paid parking tickets on time.

Having been ejected from her fantasy by grim reality Amelia saw Saffi look around nervously out of the corner of her eye. For a second Amelia listened, wondering what Saffi was worried about and then she heard it. Rhythmic drumming in the distance, more felt than heard. It was a constant short pattern of beats that resonated straight through Amelia. She'd heard it before, she knew what it was, what it was always going to be.

Hoofbeats.

That bitch, Amelia thought, of course she told them where to go. All the better to please her husband as they ran down another pair of slaves for their doubtless immense harem. She must have been born rich or lucky to get where she was, have all the right breaks and a cushy life. Amelia hadn't planned to abandon her backup plan so early in the day but it looked like she had no choice. "Saffi, don't look back," she said, turning her head momentarily to look at the girl, "Just run, and keep running. Put your head down and keep running no matter what happens. We're going to make it. We're going to get out of here."

The pair of them broke into what was, at first, an uncertain run, matching pace. Legs that had felt dead a second ago felt a new burst of energy and they accelerated into confident strides, crossing the ground at speed. Amelia spared a second to look back. She couldn't see anything, but she knew it had to be there, thundering hooves crashing through the undergrowth and hot on their trail. She kept her breathing steady, all she had to do was keep up with Saffi, then leave her to her fate when the time came.

Slowly as they ran the ground began to rise, the burning muscles and barely swallowed gasps of air returned as they ran through the forest. The tree cover here was enough to disorient and never show a clear way but also light enough that save for one or two places there was not space in which to hide. Saffi and Amelia were breathing hard, relying on momentum and grit to keep pushing them forwards. Amelia looked back again. She could see the riders now, both the man and the woman who'd nearly managed to run her down the other day. She could see in front of her that there were three ways they could go. Ahead there was a narrow gap in a patch of trees to the left that rose sharply away from the ground they were on, the ground in front was clearer with a slower rise, and to the right the ground fell away to much denser, more jungle-like ground.

Amelia's heart pumped in time with the hoofbeat rhythm pounding out along the ground, it was all she could hear, all she could feel; the four beat phrases of movement were all her consciousness held, she could even imagine the hot breath of horses on her neck. Now was the time, she thought, there could be no weakness. She feigned a stumble and collided with Saffi shoulder-first as hard as she dared. Saffi spiralled into the dirt like a broken puppet with its strings cut, exhausted limbs slapping the ground as she tumbled in a howl of pain and frustration. Amelia broke left and upwards, shifting her weight back to where it should be for proper running posture. In a few seconds as the ground rose sharply and she tried to make some distance she broke through the treeline and onto a grassy rise. For a second she was surprised, she hadn't known how close to one of the island's beaches they were. In the distance the glittering blue ocean reflected golden sunshine from a cloudless sky of pure azure. Then she saw it, a small thing down on the beach in the distance. The thing they'd been told to look for, a squat pillar in the pure white sands where she could unlock her wristband and be free.

She kept running across the grass and something momentarily crossed her vision from above. Amelia barely had time to register it before the control pole's loop tightened around her neck. "Got you, you little cunt!" she heard from behind her as she struggled for breath, her feet were whisked from under her as the horse turned, pulling her with it. "I did say you shouldn't expect that trick to work again!"

Amelia pulled at the tightened loop of the control pole as she was dragged back into the forest; the sea, the beach, and the pillar slowly vanishing from sight as she was dragged back down into the forest below.

Saffi meanwhile had fallen, bounced, and rolled. She tried to pull herself up but her legs were beyond any reasonable ability to control them after the fall. She watched as the lead horse broke left to follow Amelia as she ran, its rider sporting a mad gleam in her eyes and a control pole couched like a lance under one arm. Saffi knew from the way the ground rumbled the second rider wasn't far behind. Determined not to be trampled and surrendering herself to fate she rolled over the edge to her right without so much as a glance and tumbled haphazardly through branches and bushes towards the unseen lower ground.

She could hear swearing from the ground above as the horse came to a halt, but was more concerned with how far she might tumble and bounce before stopping.

Scratched, bruised, sore she eventually rolled to a halt and weakly picked herself up. She knew she had to move, the hunters with horses would be on her again just as soon as they could find a route down here, and she was under no illusions as to how much more ground they could cover than she could. Mentally she thanked Amelia for pushing her out of the way of the lead rider, hoping they'd meet again at the finish. Dusting herself off she froze as out of the bushes, no more than 10 yards from her, appeared her rapist from the previous night.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here. Looks like fortune seems to have put you right back in my hands," he said, the ghost of a smile playing across his lips

For a half second Saffi froze like a deer in headlights as she remembered the pain, the humiliation, everything that came with her acceptance that this was her Master. All of that was meaningless. She had to put it behind her. Then she remembered his parting words, that she was disappointing, that her begging for mercy was pathetic. Somewhere in those words she found her reason. Rape, humiliation, and pain, all those she could take. Being looked at like she was less than nothing, instead of a prize that had been won that finally rekindled the last embers of the dying fire of her mind.

Her legs were still made of lead, her brain was barely functional, but in that moment she felt the adrenaline rush of every prey hunted by man since the dawn of time itself. She turned on her heels, and ran like the whips of all her potential masters were behind her.

The Hotel Yorotani - Fem-Vet Clinic

Wetpussy was barely conscious by the time she was removed from the spitroaster. Her flesh stung all over, and she was almost glad to be laid out on a trolley where she no longer had to hear the relentless slapping of wet leather against her own flesh. There was cool metal against her back and what little strength she'd had going into the spitroaster had been beaten out of her. She watched as Four was joined by two more slavenurses who gently ensured her legs were parted. One at a time Four secured her ankles with padded leather straps that buckled firmly into place. She sat up for a second but a gentle pressure from Four on her forehead was enough to make her lie back down to feel them work their way up the rest of her body. The following straps to be buckled were at her waist, then just below her breasts with just enough space for full deep breaths. She noticed that while she had been in the spitroaster Four had donned a white surgical mask to go with her elbow length gloves.

Four's gentle reassurances were gone for the moment as she and the other slavenurses quickly and quietly secured Wetpussy's wrists, elbows, neck, and forehead. There was something detached, impersonal, and deeply professional about their movements. Wetpussy knew why. Realistically Four could give few truthful reassurances from this point forwards. Wetpussy was entirely in the hands of the Fem-Vet and her Master's orders from here on in and that could entail just about anything.

Wetpussy began to tear up. She knew what Fem-Vets could do, and had done many times over to women prettier, smarter, and better than herself.

"Hey, hey, Honey," said Four, taking a second after Wetpussy was fully secured to position herself so that Wetpussy could see her without turning her head, "This is a lot, I know, but just remember whatever happens to you in there it's so you can serve your Master better, and if you can serve him better you get to stick around a while longer. So you promise me you'll be the best little whore you can be on the other side of this. Promise?"