Strange Queens Ch. 03

Roberts stood and strode over to the window, peering out over the expanse of fields that surrounded her on three sides. As she looked out, not liking her chances of getting away unseen over it, a set of speakers set into each corner of the room's ceiling came to life.

'Doctor Roberts,' a tiny speaker version of Paulo's bassy baritone rang out from all around her. 'You are a strange specimen indeed, little woman. Rest assured you already know why you are in this room. I intend to keep you here for a while, until I have a concreted plan of action regarding you and our little bi-polar body there. You may also rest easily knowing that I have audio and visual surveillance in that room as I have it in every room, and that I will see and feel you escape long before you make it off my premises.' There was a pause, some slight crackling from the speakers.

'But in the meantime,' Paulo said, tone flat and emotionless, 'I have a little someone who wants to speak with you about your opinion of women.' As he finished and shut off the microphone with a small click, the door in the wall clicked and opened, revealing Tiffany, standing framed in the entrance, fists clenched.

'You dirty little old fuck basket!' She swore at her, storming in. Dressed in her black getup, the picture of an adult emo, with long black hair, dark lipstick and tight black clothes, she looked sexy -- and furious. For a moment, Roberts could see why the boy liked her. Then she was on her, her hands roughly pushing Roberts back onto the couch. She fell, her legs splayed out under her, slumped low.

She was still sluggish from her slumber, and she had been somewhat distracted by the girl's body and the voice over the speakers. She just had time to close her eyes as a black gloved hand flashed down and slapped her cheek, stinging pain erupting on her face. But the slap served more as a wake up to her, shook her from her thoughts. As the girlfriend's other hand came flying down to deliver a second slap across the other side of her face, her own hand shot up and clamped around her wrist. Tiffany looked at it and tried to move it, but the blonde had her now. Muscles tensing, the black clad girl watched as the naked woman raised herself powerfully with her own arm, Tiffany forced to help her or be pulled of balance right onto her.

'You dislike my opinion of our sex, female?' Roberts breathed right into her face. Roberts, short herself but powerful and curvaceous, stood taller in Chelsea's thinner but more feminine body, her eyes the height of Tiffany's hairline. She glared down unblinking into the black dressed girl's eyes, who just glared back, her teeth grinding.

'You're a using fucking whore!' she said indignantly, shouting in the blonde's face, spittle spraying all over her, 'you're a dirty fucking domineering condescending whore!'

But Roberts was in power now and Tiffany could feel it. Roberts's arm tensed, the muscles in her forearm and bicep showing themselves proudly. Iron will forced them into powerful action, Chelsea's quietly toned body responding happily. Tiffany's arm was pushed down to her side.

'Oh, I can assure you...' Roberts breathed over the emo girl. 'I'm much, much worse than that.' Her other hand appearing in moments on Tiffany's neck. She gripped her opponent and drove her easily enough to her knees before her body.

'And I'm going to show you first hand.' Roberts added, her fingers digging into Tiffany's shoulder, the black lipped girl still glaring indignantly despite her totally powerless state. Then, Roberts took an effortless step forward, putting one leg past the kneeling girl's body, whilst at the same time she pulled her hand forward, Tiffany still in it, forcing the girl's face between her legs as her other leg stepped over her too. Now straddling the girl, her knees behind Robert's body, she was under the standing Roberts, off balance, unable to get up, her nose pressed against the waiting lips of Roberts' vagina. Disgusted, she tried to turn away, but Roberts simply squeezed her thighs around her head, holding it straight, forcing the girl to keep her lips and nose right up on her cunt.

Tiffany took a whole thirty seconds of steadily gaining tension, the tension of Roberts tensing her thighs tighter and tighter, her arm pushing her face more and more into her cunt, before she finally and angrily opened her mouth and began to eat the quietly lubricating pussy. As soon as she did so she felt the tension relax and stopped, only to feel her head squeezed harder again. Eventually, she gave up and forced herself to try to ignore the disgusting knowledge of what she was doing as she did her best to worm her tongue inside the woman and suck her lips in and around the vagina. Roberts would keep her here, force her to make her body work, force her to actively try to make her cum, for nearly half an hour before she allowed her cunt to leak into the black dressed girl's mouth. She would also force her to suck and swallow before she released her at last with a satisfied knowing smirk.

Outside, Paulo and his son watched the entire show with eagerness, analysing the attitude and performance of the body-possessing Roberts and the kinky behaviour of his girlfriend, Tiffany.

They would both smile when they saw the string of cum still linking the two girl's lips when Roberts finally let Tiffany back away from her dripping cunt.

* * * * *

Rachel's heart pounded, nerves, adrenalin, cold air, fear. Her legs pounded under her, her arms tight and tense, trigger finger poised on the grip guard on her snub nosed pistol, ready to hook around the trigger and squeeze the little curved piece of metal home. A fan of boy's things, Rachel had taken the opportunity once she'd moved over the seas to her new home to indulge in some of the more American chances offered in western countries. Gun shooting and archery had both been on that list. Her game face on, she stared intently forward as she sprang off the mark and pelted towards the doorway that led out of the cell hall and into the sight of the guards left awake. Behind her, her tiny frame almost looking comical behind the large breast cups and looping chains of the adult sized chastity harness, ran Brianna, her pistol held calmly in her left hand. Her mother, if she was her mother, jogged beside them, looking somewhat more awkward than the other two, her body suddenly gone from barely any movement to a run in moments. Being older, she would likely be the more stiff girl in the freed group so far.

Rachel reached the doorway and was through in a flash, gun level, stepping quickly to the side. Behind her, Mum appeared, arms wide, ready to block any darts that came flying towards them. Peering out from behind her, left arm straight as a baton, Brianna was ducked low and ready to make sure her mother's shielding wasn't used in vain. Quickly, Rachel twisted and fired, a black clad guard by the guard's door drawing his own weapon up. But a dart was already sailing towards him and buried itself deep into his upper chest a half-second before Rachel's whizzed through the space that had only half a second ago been occupied by the man's neck. Her round whistled two millimetres by his chin and jarred with a needle-bending ping off the door behind him, skittering away across the floor and rolling somewhere over in the far corner.

'I've got them. Save your shots.' Brianna said simply to Rachel, stepping up. Her mother was with her, hand on her shoulder. Rachel just nodded.

'Good shot. Now we only have one shot to miss between us before we have to be aim-perfect.' Rachel said. 'Quickly, find anything we can hold with our harnesses that will help us. Mum, can you find us some new clips? We could use the ammo just in case.' Rachel asked. Quickly she sprinted to the kitchen door and checked inside through the glass, bringing her pistol up and ducking.

'Two more!' She breathed. She rolled away right as the door behind her burst open and a thin guard stepped through, gun up and firing. Two darts left the gun before one from Brianna's levelled pistol engorged itself in his chest and he just dropped like a stone backwards, falling through the still swinging doors. The second guard had eyes for Rachel and had been caught off guard when he'd seen the fire-headed teen already firing as he'd come through the door, and that had been all Rachel had needed to embed her own dart into his side. Standing, she stepped up to him, wide-eyed with shock, and lifted the pistol right out of his frozen hand before lightly pushing his shoulder and watching him crumple backwards, his head coming to rest on the chest of his partner.

'That leaves five,' Rachel said, striding back towards the faux family. Brianna was already grabbing a clip from the hand of her mother and stuffing it behind her belt. Rachel stopped and bent to pick up the pistol that had belonged to one of the guards she'd dropped first, the huge man whom had landed on the leg of the gold-armoured owner of this place. She slipped his gun down the front of her own belt before turning when she heard a stifled yelp of fear from Brianna. Brianna was holding her mother and looking with horror at her hip, where a black casing resided, the open-centred ring that was the versatile housing, clip and attacher for the small pressurised vials that were the darts themselves. The black casing was firmly attached to her skin, and a small red dot of blood could be seen right in its open centre, the remains of the injection point from the dart's needle, its contents spent, the empty shell dropped away from its housing.

The darts actually fall away and leave their clamping casing for the simplest of reasons; the black casing serves as a very effective stabiliser when slamming into the skin of its victim, both attaching itself with super-adhesive medical glue, much like a double-sided tape, and with tiny barbed pricks. In this way any movement the impact causes moves the skin attached to the dart casing together, holding the actual injection point flat and steady. In this way, it prevents bruising or internal haemorrhaging from the powerful shot. It also, however, performs one other simple action. By staying attached to the skin after the pressured vial is released, it marks the exact location where the dart entered the body and keeps other objects somewhat lifted clear of the area, so that, even if one was to pull clothes on over it, the ring of footed super-strong polyresin would hold the fabric off the wound. Put simply, it stops rubbing and infections from possibly compromising the injection point.

Rachel looked at the black device planted firmly against the skin of Mother and bit her lip. This wasn't good, she thought. Another five of them were out there and she wasn't sure they could take them on even with Brianna's crack aim. She had hoped Mother would find her own weapon and even the fight up somewhat, but despite the inferior serum in the guard's guns, she would be going down anytime soon.

Brianna looked up at Rachel, concern and worry plastered across her impossibly young looking face.

'What can we do? She won't stay up for long.' She said. Mother simply looked from her wound up to Rachel, silent. When Rachel didn't say anything, she spoke up.

'You go on,' she said simply. 'Move, go get them. I will stay here and perhaps the others can help me.' But Brianna shook her head. She looked at Rachel.

'You know something. When you said about picking up ammo before, you said the guard's rounds would help, but wouldn't be as good as ours. Why?'

The girl was right. Rachel had loaded her two pistols with freshly filled darts from the guard's out shed, filled them from the nozzle marked "Super Serum". She'd guessed, rightly, that the serum in this particular part of the refilling machine had dispensed the concentrated chemical mix that Gloria had spoken about not long before, the serum that was nearly ten times as powerful as that used by the regular guards. Hers, she had said, could knock someone out in seconds. Using more than one shot was overwhelming, and likely lethal. If you got hit by one of these, you'd better believe, you were going down hard and you were going down fast.

'You're right,' she said. 'When I fought her before -- Rachel gestured over her shoulder at the unconscious Gloria -- she told me the type of ammo she had in her personal gun. I managed to find somewhere earlier that dispenses that serum, filled my guns with it. That's why our shots drop the guards like bullets whereas Mum over here is still upright,' Rachel said. 'But there's another reason they fall so fast. The guards here are kept junked up on this stuff daily. They've been trained, perhaps hypnotised or brainwashed, into certain beliefs and mindsets that are necessary for this job. Perhaps their body has formed a weakness to this drug, because it just lets go as soon as it gets in them.' Rachel shrugged. 'I guess there's one good thing the guards have done for us.'

Brianna nodded for a moment. She seemed to be thinking of something. Then, she stood and scooped her mother's arm up, pulling her forwards with an arm around her hips.

'We keep going.' She said plainly. Her mother didn't argue, stepped in time with her young leader. Rachel wanted to argue, but decided against it, knew that she needed the help whether or not she thought it was right. She nodded and followed them.

'This is the only real substance to this building. Outside is a guard's shed where they relax and,' a flashing image of the chained girl on the table echoed through Rachel's brain, 'eat lunch, so on. The only other place I haven't been is the guard's door, which is there.' Rachel pointed to the small door in the cafeteria wall. 'Otherwise, the outside door is over in the kitchen. I can show you.' She said. Brianna steered towards the kitchen, and Rachel opened the doors for them to come through. As she passed her, she heard the Asian woman's breathing coming heavily. The early stages of the drug, she knew, were already beginning to take their toll.

Passing quickly through the empty kitchen the girls made their way quickly to the exit and Rachel opened the door for them. Stepping gently, the faux family pair squinted as they stepped out from the stark and drab greys of their prison and onto the grass outside. Rachel moved past them and looked about quickly, checking the area. Brianna looked around in awe, her mouth wide in a grin of delight to see the world outside again. Her mother breathed the fresh air in as deeply as she could, sweat starting to bead her forehead. Her body, Rachel knew, would be more distracted than the younger girls'.

'You see those vans?' Rachel pointed across the wide dirt path that was the driveway in to the property to the row of black vans parked diagonally along the fence to the left of the huge, impassive gate. Brianna nodded. 'Get to them as quickly as you can. You'll find my friend, Jordan, there. She's been darted too, she's resting against the wall behind them. If you can get her in a car, get out. We'll be right behind you.' Brianna opened her little lips, about to argue, but Rachel stopped her. 'I can't come with you. The others are in there, and I need to help them get out. Besides,' she added with firm determination, 'there are more guards here that could stop them, and I have a score to settle with them.'

Rachel didn't stop to say her farewells. She turned and re-entered the building, stopping only to say a quick "good luck" over her shoulder. Then she was gone, the door swinging shut with a click behind her.

Brianna took a breath and gritted her teeth, trying her best to ignore the gentle moans her mother was starting to make as she did her best to resist wave upon wave of orgasmic lust as it washed over her, trying to seduce her into submission.

*

Inside Rachel returned to the cafeteria to find Gold Eyes and Amanda stepping out through the doorway. Behind them came more girls in their chains and chastity locks. Right behind them were some younger girls, variously with black, brown and blonde hair. A few were tall, some were short and petite, others more curvy. Behind them all came two pairs of older women, late twenties to somewhere in their thirties, less excited to be free. These, Rachel knew, would be the girls that had been too depressed, or depressed by their capture, back in the container to talk to them. These girls, it seemed, were still depressed, their imprisonment obviously taking as much a toll on them as it had on everyone, but not enough to stay here over escape.

Rachel did note one girl in particular. Gold Eyes, whoever she was, had one tiny girl in her arms. Small but likely tall, this girl, Rachel realised, was the one that had been totally silent in Amanda's cell, the girl facing the wall. Whilst the tall and elegant Amanda looked as nervous as ever, Gold Eyes stood solid and calm, her more stocky and muscular frame holding the girl in her arms, her face set and determined. She didn't speak or look at Rachel, just stood, waiting. Something about her attitude made Rachel wonder if she wasn't still shocked at her cellmate's sacrifice. The sooner she got away from here, the better, perhaps.

'Is that everyone?' Rachel asked. Amanda nodded quickly, handing back the keys. Rachel lifted one of her chains, the freely dangling chain on her wrist that had been snapped away earlier, and hooked the two keys around the bottom-most link. She draped the link on the ground and pressed her heel into it, putting her weight down on it, forcing it to close over around the keys in a makeshift key ring, for the time being. 'Right, we move. Come on, everyone, to the vans outside. Quickly!' Rachel said, raising her voice.

She led them out through the kitchen, watching as first Amanda and Gold stepped out into the sun and looked about themselves, followed in turn by the crowd of other women. In total there had been eight cells, four to a side, and Rachel and Jordan had occupied the first on the left, Amanda and her cellmate opposite, with Gold and Effie behind, and Brianna and her mum figure opposite them. The four other pairs behind them variously held the four younger and four older women whom now stepped out for the first time into the sun and wind behind Rachel's friends, looking around themselves in the sudden return to nature.

All of a sudden, with a soft whacking sound, a black and purple dart appeared in the leg of the right-most girl behind Amanda. She looked down in surprise, seeing her leg as the purple vial popped softly off its housing and fell to the grass by her foot. She yelped with a short girly scream, reaching down to tear at the black casing. She panicked more when her nails did little more than pull her own skin painfully, the adhesive and barb combination under the expanded legs of the dart casing lodged firmly into her calf.

Another dart whistled by Rachel's ears as she spun to see where the shots had come from, clamping itself to the shoulder of Gold Eyes, who let out a grunt at the impact. She, however, remained calm and stood her ground, still holding the limp female in her arms. Rachel turned and saw two black guards over by the airlock doorway, the guard's entrance, their pistols raised. Quickly, she brought up her own gun and fired three quick shots at them. About a hundred metres away, roughly the same distance from the girls as the vans were, she saw one of them raise a hand to his stomach and drop backwards. The second guard didn't move, and she saw his hand jerk as he loosed another shot. She ducked, and her head rose back up in time to see his arm jerk again, but sideways this time, before he stumbled and dropped to his knees. Behind her she could hear voices as, evidently, the third dart had found a target.

Shit, she thought. This is getting out of hand too quickly. She'd just had at least two of her crew hit with the darts, which, although they were less powerful than the ones in her own gun, meant that pretty soon she'd have even more weight on her hands. As bad as it sounded, referring to people as weight, in this situation she couldn't afford to have too much drag holding them back.