The Big Brother Hole Ch. 03

"Dinner is served Mam," I said raising the carcass.

"What?" she giggled, "you killed Bambi?"

"No, Bambi did this all himself, reckon he bounced a little high and landed in the hole. I'll get out the scissors and the flint and see if we can bleed him and chop him up."

We did; we bled him and chopped him up, with very little technique or finesse, I basically hacked and battered the thing until it came apart. The Mad Major had taught us the art of grallicking, the huntsman's method of making sure that whatever was in a kill's digestive system stayed in it. I even took everything bar the heart, liver and kidneys and dug a hole in the soft earth bank to bury it.

We hung various lumps of him across the clearing and decided to cook a couple of legs. Two hours and lots of wood later we were again feasting on a wonderful meal, this time venison. We had pine needle tea and some roasted greens we'd laid over the meat which made an interesting variation. We even went so far as to have a couple of boiled sweets!

We lay in our tent nibbling the last pieces of meat and I wondered how we might prepare and preserve more of this evenings feast. I just knew that uncooked it would just fester and go bad.

I knew that people hung meat to air dry and so preserve it so thought I'd leave one piece to do that. After all I doubted we'd eat all of it without it going bad. Emma even suggested we get some mud from the river bed, wrap it around another piece and 'clay bake' it in the embers of the fire. We tried that and low behold we had splendid moist roasted venison for breakfast the next morning.

I took a rather cool bath that night, having stripped naked to butcher the deer. I just knew that blood and all the other crap was going to end up all over me so did it naked. Emma didn't mind in the slightest but was constantly telling me to be careful!

This also meant that I was still slightly chilly when we eventually got to bed.

"You're frozen," she said. I was wearing only my shorts and T-shirt, "come here," she said and stripped off her black shirt and black trousers leaving her in just her peach panties. The skin on skin contact was twice as good as the actual warmth I received from her nearly naked body touching mine, and we pulled the blankets and coats over us. The fire was burning hot, there was still meat in it so we left the side of the tent open.

We kissed passionately, caressing each other dressed only in our underwear, brave for a late September night, but we lay there virtually naked just being in each other's company knowing that would we would make love very soon. We removed our underwear,

"Make love to me," she mouthed, "please..."

Like I would have said no.

She punched the roof of our tent and the wall fell cutting us off from our audience for the rest of that night.

"I know that we have to let them see us," she whispered into my ear, "but I do prefer the times when it's just us."

"So do I," I said, "I want you all to myself Emma Rogers."

"Thank you Harry," she whispered, "I love you so much."

I flexed my back muscles and my penis pushed against her vagina. She raised her thighs just the right amount and I was pushing into her. We both gasped and smiled.

We made love clinging to each other with all our power. Again I could only be amazed at the passion we'd inspired in each other. She raised her thighs and gripped me with them,

"Fuck me Harry," she gasped, and I knew it wasn't for the microphones, "Oh Harry," she gasped, "Oh fuck I'm coming, come with me Harry, pleeeease come in me."

I did.

We lay together with the tent flap up - neither of us was cold anymore that was for sure. We managed to go face to face to chat.

"We'll have to find a way to cover the camera in here and the microphone." I stopped and thought. We had no paper and pen, and I thought of a way of silently communicating. It came to me.

The army had taught us various codes to use if we were taken prisoner of war, there was the old tap code but that would be picked up by the microphones. Hand signals!

They were piss easy! I would teach her them the next day and we could practice in the tent while they couldn't watch us.

That day the weather came to our aid again. There was one of those crappy drizzly days and my choice of fire space came into its own and the coverage from the tree kept our fire pit dry but we pulled the tent sides down to keep our few possessions dry. By doing this I was able to teach Emma the very simple hand alphabet and she got it straight away.

Laying in our tiny dry home, we shared an 'us against them' excitement that must have been akin to those 'prisoners of war' whose sternness of purpose I'd adopted a few days previously and it was quite a positive mood change for us. In our tent, illuminated by the light coming through a transparent patch above us we used our new language to pass short messages so we could get used to it.

Every few minutes though we'd speak just so we wouldn't upset our captors or give them an indication that we knew what was going on. The rest of the time we silently talked about everything. She started with favourite holiday destinations and where we wanted to go. She loved America and wanted to New England in the fall while I wanted to go to Southern Italy.

She missed her parents' big stupid Labrador and said that she wanted to get one of her own one day. I said that I'd always wanted one but because of job I never could. She said that I could share hers, I said only if she came to Italy with me.

We giggled quietly, and Em announced that she needed to pee. I raised the tent flap for her and realised through our rather excitable sign language we had chatted over and above our normal conversation. I think we had both ignored the 'what we'll do when we get out' discussion. On reflection, I think escape was such a long shot and we had almost no options open to us, we didn't know what or who or how many we were up against it was too painful to think on any future positives, because it was just something else to break our hearts about later.

We took some more of our now cold venison and I ran to our stream and filled our tins and did some maintenance of our fire while the water heated.

We delighted in our companionship but I still considered or need to please our viewers. We'd earned an entire deer the previous day and really nice it had been. In the late afternoon the clouds blew over and we decided to get out of the tent and stretch our legs. We'd already discussed that we'd go to the centre of the woods and the point where I'd seen the two technicians digging for the 'power outage' the day that we'd made love for the first time.

We climbed out of our tent and stood and stretched, groaning loudly. We walked to the toilet pit and both did what we needed to. I walked her across the patch where I'd found the edible greens and I guessed that they must have been planted. Walking around the edge of the patch I found another patch of mushrooms that must have sprouted overnight. I grinned at them, not because I was pleased they were there but the fact the earth they were growing in was clearly a compost and virtually a different shade and texture to the soil around it. I picked the larger ones and held them in my sweatshirt. I tried not to laugh, whoever had supplied them must not have noticed the soil/compost thing going on in the dark.

I said what a shame it was we didn't have some kind of pot that we could cook with. With the greenery, the mushrooms, the meat, and some water, we could create a stock pot and live extremely well.

We walked around the Big Brother Hole, hand in hand, and we secretly checked out the ground around us an in front of us. After all I had almost missed the muntjac yesterday.

"There has to be something," I said squeezing Em's hand, "just a metal plate, an old style hub cap, anything."

"We'll keep looking Harry," she said, "There might be something buried or sticking out of the ground."

We came upon Tina's grave, and Emma stopped recognising the spot we were at. She slowly paced towards it and knelt on the damp earth, laying a hand on the centre of the mound. I saw her mouthing some words her head bowed, I reached down and took her other hand.

She stood brushing her knees,

"Thanks Harry," she said, "I'm so lucky to have you."

"We're lucky to have each other," I said, and put my arms around her. We walked back to our tent and slid in. Each night I checked it, and rolled the front cover. We make up the fire with care, after all our supply of fire wood was a finite resource. A finite resource that did occasionally get topped up mind you!

I collected the wood as my lovely Em couldn't really see enough to be able to do the same. I was very systematic with my collection but as I noticed that new branches and twigs appeared in places I'd already cleared, I stopped being quite so systematic, I wanted to give the Mad Professor his chance after all.

A couple of evenings later we lay in the middle of the woods looking up at the stars, yes I was a bit of an astronomy nerd, and laying immediately on top of the flap that hid the mains power cable I'd watched them repair. We started as soon as the stars came out and every now and again we'd laugh and one of us would drum our feet hoping to catch a dull thud that would announce the wooden lid. I found it and dug a bit of a trench with my heels so that I could find it next time. Just in case of course.

We lay there and hugged each other, staring up at the stars, it was one of many nights that we did the same thing. We would discuss our favourite films, and as we got to know each other we'd take guesses at the other's view on a particular movie or style of movie.

"You loved 'Lord of the Rings'," I said, "and 'Harry Potter' - although you tell your friends you prefer the books."

"Well said," she grinned back at me, "nearly right, I have the Harry Potter series on Audiobook, I often have an evening with Stephen Fry," she said. "Noooooow," she pondered, a finger on her lips, "You love Star Wars!

"Of course!" I said, "I'm a child of my age. The new ones are OK but still love the old ones."

"Oh yes," she beamed a grin at me, "The other holy trinity, Star Wars is still the best."

We lay together reliving our favourite bits of our favourite movies, Indiana Jones, Die Hard, Austin Powers, Mel Brooks, they all featured in our own 100 best films.

I threw in my love of Shakespeare and I regaled her with the sections I remembered. This surprised her;

"I don't meet that many squaddies that are big Shakespeare fans," she said.

"My degree in is English Literature," I said.

"Degree?"

"Open University," I said.

"Wow!" she grinned at me, "I have so much respect for people that get their degrees that way; us sheltered student types forget how lucky we are to take three years out of our lives."

"Can't argue with that," I said, "I did two entire modules in the field, one in Iraq, and one in Afghanistan."

"How?" She rolled on to her front and lay on my shoulder.

"Believe it or not there is a fair amount of spare time in forward patrol bases, I had one extra bag that my mates didn't. And I got massive support from the army - I was a poster boy on several occasions, 'army medic studies for future under threat of mortars and grenade attack,' that kind of thing, they loved me."

She beamed a smile at me biting her bottom lip. "I was flown back to the education centre at Bastion to take my final exam. Every time I got some post, the Battalion second in command demanded to know if I'd got my results! When they finally arrived I was marched in front of the old man so I could tell him."

And so we passed many nights finding out about each other. We'd check the fish traps and I guessed they were released into the stream. We woke to find rabbits in the snares, a lamb that must have been killed and thrown down, and more greens, more mushrooms. I only wore my oxygen a couple of times and saw the same security man, Viktor, and one of the engineers. We continued to check our tent each morning and for some reason they never did install a microphone and I guessed there was one close enough.

But most mornings and most evenings we'd cuddle up and have a 'mouth to ear' whispered chat. After all it was really nice just to sit there holding each other.

Using the original sharp flint I carved notches in the tree that held our tent up. Each morning, I'd get up head for a pee and then cut a notch, one of those 'four cuts and a line through' jobs that I increased to six so we could count weeks. I caught up to where I believed the 'Tuesday' when the techies had come down and we'd been together for a month.

I shared my clothes with her, and my baggy trackies replaced her black trousers that had started to wear just a bit thin and were all torn about. She had pretty much taken over with my Barbour - it hung off of her but wearing one of my T-shirts under her black vicar shirt with the collar just up and her ginger hair brushed just right she looked gorgeous.

But the weather was turning, it had to be mid-October and I came down with a chesty cold, no surprise really what with the dampness we lived in and the poor diet.

I took herbal teas and was starting to get over it. I had what I reckoned to be one or two more visits worth of oxygen, and if I was ever to get out of this place it needed to be soon. My trousers were loose now, and between us we were wearing every piece of clothing we had and were still cold.

I felt weaker than usual and figured it was time to hatch a plan. Emma suffered a bout of diarrhoea that weakened her as well, and one night we lay there in abject misery, no jolly chat or talk of past or future, we were too down for that.

A brief glance showed that the stream had stopped 'flowing' - I guessed that whatever plant operated it must have broken down. After it, it had been flowing for at least six months non-stop. I hoped desperately that the Mad Professor or the new management had enough money to repair it.

It meant that we had to boil all of our water not just heat it up, which meant more wood and more time. Emma caught my cold and we just held each other, hanging on to the only thing that stopped us falling into the misery that had killed our predecessor and had dragged Emma to that point.

We were too tired and achy to fuck, although we both did partake of some mutual masturbation.

Emma had received my come in her mouth, pussy and on her face, she had never just seen it shoot out.

So with this in mind, we lay in our tent with the side up and Emma decided she was going to pull me off.

We both now knew how to sit if we wanted to be seen or not. I lay on my side and Emma pulled my cock free of my clothing and bared her tits.

She started a very gentle masturbation and I admit I wasn't in the mood for anything like this. But Em worked her magic on my cock and I was soon very hard and straining against her hand.

She bared her lovely large breasts and rubbed the underpart of my helmet against them.

"Come on my tits Harry," she said looking outrageously sexy doing it. "Come on Harry," she panted, "Come on my big tits you dirty boy!" I did!

That gained us a fish, I guessed that if I'd done the same to her, we'd have got two.

With my cold I had started to sleep during the day, and this was how I finally figured a possible way out.

I lay awake late into the night in chesty misery and saw the white cloud roll towards me. I put my mask on and pulled the blankets across my face. I guessed they'd know I was recovering from a cold. Then there was the noise of the crane, so I set my hidden mirror and prepared.

"I don't know how long they're going to survive down here," said a voice. "There's a band of rain due in and these poor bastards will pick up pneumonia pretty fast, especially if you keep pumping their lungs full of this shit with so much abandon Sean..."

Sean?

Sean was down here, I finally saw the short fat little fucker that Emma had described to me so well.

"Fuck'em," said Sean with a big smile on his face; he was a nasty little cunt and no mistake, "If wonder-boy Harry here dies then perhaps I'll come down and keep her warm at night. If not it's back up the country and borrow some other brain damaged twat that doesn't keep an eye on his coffee."

"The Mad Professor likes these two Sean, remember that."

"Yeah well, the Boss is away most evenings now it's getting cold," he affected a posh voice, "I need to review the data in peace Sean," he whined, "yeah my fat cock. He don't like the cold that's all that's wrong wiv' him. Still, whatever happens I am gonna get me a bit of that pussy that this cunt Harry here's enjoying so much. Figured when Viktor is off in town tomorrow night, I might just slip down here and enjoy myself while the fat blind bitch is unconscious. Might screw her arse seeing as this cunt hasn't yet." I felt a pain in my foot and I guessed that he'd kicked me. I lay still and listened.

"You are fucking dangerous Sean," said the other voice, "the Mad Professor is one thing but you can't fuck around with these Russians, you saw what they did to that poor kid from Lowestoft."

"I ain't fucking scared of them cunts," he laughed, "After ten at night this place is fucking mine for the taking, so is her arse. Now the Professor is just going to be here during the day, and Viktor is off to the whorehouse every fucking night or gets shitfaced on his anti-freeze Vodka, my life is gonna be 'have gas will fuck' mate, easy as that. Annnnnny night I want!" He reached down and lifted the tent flap and I could see him messing around with Emma's bottom.

"Both the prof and the Russians are gonna notice the cameras going off and the money not coming in mate, and the amount of gas that gets used."

"Yeah right wanker, I got that sussed as well, it ain't just you clever bastards that can fuck around with computers and tellies - you just leave it to me." They walked off and I moved as much as I could to watch, and it paid off.

Sean got a torch out of his pocket and I finally saw where the gas tank was, it was behind a tree and in the earth bank, clever!

They wandered off back to the yellow cage and via their torch I got my first good look at it. There was a remote control! The cage could be operated by one person, and not from above as I saw the first time. And that one person was going to be coming down here when he felt like it to fuck Emma, or so he thought.

The cage went up and I heard the chatter. I had to be quick, the cameras were off and I had little time. Still wearing my oxygen I ran as fast as my lungs would allow to where the gas cylinders were and quickly removed the false tree and loose earth. There was a plywood lid with a rope handle and I pulled it.

I could hear them chatting about things up top and hoped that Viktor wasn't sober and watching me do all this, but I hoped he was at his 'whorehouse' or pissed.

As I lay looking in the bank with the dying light, I saw a familiar black cylinder marked 'medical gases' and I scrambled in shoulders first. Fortunately the spanner was still there on a string and I turned it full lock several times. After an 'ecstasy of fumbling' (it was gas after all) I had the hose off and I saw several discarded plastic caps designed to stop the fittings collecting moisture or dust so pretty soon one of those was pushed into the business end of the fitting. I Hoped it would fool the equipment into thinking the bottle was still attached. I pushed everything back into place my heart pounding and my sore chest heaving.

I ran back to bed, my oxygen barely lasting. I slipped it off, and got back under cover as the last voices could be heard and the now familiar 'see you next Tuesday'.

So the Professor was going to be away was he? Viktor would be pissed would he? Tomorrow night would have to be the night.