In what seemed like a short period of time Laura was concealed within a small copse overlooking the tower. With no sign of her pursuers being anywhere close by, the only hint of a problem came from a couple of middle-aged walkers. Not hearing their approach until the last minute meant that her only option was to slither into the undergrowth and keep very still. They passed close enough for her to hear their conversation. How on earth they didn’t hear the sound of her heart pounding in her chest remained a mystery.
Sitting in the tall grass, leaning against a tree, Laura looked over her body. The covering of dirt, sweat and dried plant life concealed a multitude of minor scratches, marks and bruises. Sticking to her plan of moving slowly probably meant she had used more nervous energy than physical, but she still felt quite drained.
The tower was just below her, perhaps two hundred yards, maybe even less. Her first thought was to make a dash for it, zig zagging from side to side to avoid any paintballs, just like they did in the old cowboy films. There could only be about twenty yards of clear ground around the tower and as far as she could see it was an open doorway: no door to stop and open. Surely she could do it.
But they could be sitting and waiting, watching the doorway. Mrs Harris had assured her that they didn’t know where she was heading. Could she be trusted? Probably not. Since the start of the game people had avoided answering her questions or lied to her, why would the woman be any different?
The sun would be going down in a while. She would wait until dusk, carefully circle the tower looking for the hunters and, if there was no sign of them, make a dash for the door. The plan would also give her time to rest. With ears and eyes straining for anything out of the ordinary she waited.
Splat! The peace was shattered by a paintball hitting the tree above her spattering yellow paint over her head and shoulders. “Shit!” She cried, flinging herself to the ground. A desperate scan of her immediate surroundings revealed the only option, a low stone wall behind her. It wasn’t ideal but it would have to do. Scrambling up the slight incline she soon reached the base of the wall. As she leaped over, a second ball hit the top of the wall spraying yellow dye into the air. “Fuck!” They’re getting closer, she thought, “stay low and keep behind the wall.” But then, before she had time to move, she felt it.
“Ahhh…” Instinctively rubbing the area from where the pain originated resulted in wet, blue fingers. Dye. She’d been hit.
“Stay there or I’ll fire again,” the deep voice instructed. Laura remained still, lying on the cool grass rubbing her hip where the ball had struck. A tall figure came into view. “Over here, I got her,” he called. A second person jumped over the wall. With her hands bound behind her Laura could make no effort to cover herself. Two pairs of eyes slowly travelled back and forth along the length of her naked body, before settling on the area between her legs.
A strong hand gripped her upper arm, lifting her from the ground. It was her first opportunity to get a look at her captors. They didn’t look like hunters. Weren’t they supposed to be middle aged and wearing camouflage jackets and trousers, peaked caps and boots? Where were the beards and beer bellies? These two were probably late twenties, fit and quite good looking. The T-shirts and shorts didn’t match the hunter image, leaving her feeling short changed, her fantasy let down.
“Well, well. Look what we caught; a real pretty one this time.” The taller one had a similar accent to Mrs Harris. Were ‘the boys’ her sons? He moved behind her and gripped both arms, pulling her elbows together and forcing out her breasts while the other stood before her admiring them. As soon as he moved toward her she panicked.
“Oh no, don’t you touch me. You’ll be sorry.” Ignoring her threats he cupped and fondled the soft flesh on offer.
“We caught you so we can do what we like with you. That’s the rules,” he said, as he began pinching and twisting the tender nipples.”
“Let go of me!” She screamed, desperately trying to shake herself free.
“Got spirit too.” The second one added. “Hard little nipples, this is turning her on.” Laura’s desperate struggling turned to blindly kicking out at the person behind her. “We’ll need the collar, hold onto her.” Her burning nipples welcomed the break as he rummaged in his rucksack. The heavy duty dog collar fit snugly around her neck and a couple of feet of heavy chain dangled against her chest. As her wrists were lifted she had no option but to bend forward. Her breasts swung freely beneath her. Two hands pushed her head down forcing her to her knees. A foot stood on the chain, holding her cheek against the ground.
Unable to raise her head or move her arms she was powerless to prevent what she knew was coming. She felt the fingers slide over her raised buttocks before exploring between her legs. She inhaled deeply as the fingers spread her, probing and arousing. “She’s soaking, she wants it.” The voice behind her announced.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she screamed into the ground, “I warned you.”
Despite her best efforts to avoid it, the natural reactions of her body took over. The fingers left her, only to be replaced, seconds later, by the blunt head of a cock. Strong hands gripped her hips before pulling her back. He slid easily into the warm opening.
She closed her eyes. Fear, shame and lust fought for supremacy. Then guilt presented itself, wasn’t she supposed to have begged? Pleaded with them to leave her alone, bombarded them with all sorts of dire threats? Well, at least enough to pacify her conscience.
The tension in the chain eased. A hand grabbed her hair, roughly pulling her head back. Her mouth was not to be spared either. The two worked in unison, sliding in and out of her with ease. What was happening to her disgusted her; she was being raped. But beyond the disgust she felt the fear. Fear that her body would once again betray her. Already she could feel the stirrings of an unwanted orgasm.
“Swap round, I want to finish in her mouth.” The order came from behind. As they both withdrew Laura felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. The cool breeze drawing unwanted attention to the abused openings. The respite was short lived. The renewed pounding was almost welcomed and she opened her mouth, ready to finish the task started between her legs. She could taste herself on the hard shaft as it plunged into her mouth. As if planned in advance the gush of salty cream hit the back of her mouth just as she felt the thrusting stop and the other pulsing organ deposit its load deep inside her.
They had both withdrawn long before her body stopped quivering as she came down from the traitorous orgasm she so desperately craved and only feebly fought against. She wasn’t sure if the few minutes rest were for her benefit or theirs. Either way she was grateful for them. Eventually the tall one spoke.
“We’d better be getting her back. Watch her while I get her stuff.” She watched as he moved off toward the tower, grateful that at least she would be dressed for the walk back. When her clothes were stuffed into the rucksack, along with the pawn and her key, it soon became obvious that her gratitude had been misplaced. As she watched, an odd thought occurred to her. This was the closest she had come to earning a pawn, in fact it was the first time she had even seen one.
“Can’t I get dressed?”
“Of course not. You didn’t make it did you.” As he spoke he pulled a length of rope from the rucksack, fed one end through the ring in the front of her collar, passed it between her legs and tied it to the link between her handcuffs.
“Just to make sure you keep up,” he said, giving her a brief demonstration. Tension on the rope made her bend forward as the rope slid through the ring. Her hands were pulled tightly against her buttocks and the coarse twine chafed between her legs.
She had every intention of keeping up.
15
The long, miserable walk back provided ample opportunity for Laura to reflect on what had happened. Unable to wipe the rapidly drying slime from her face provided a constant reminder of her shame. The salty taste lingered in her mouth and an abundance of warm, mixed juice’s leaked from between her legs. Once the elation of her orgasm became a distant memory anxiety and self disgust monopolized her thoughts. She felt violated and used. After all she had been raped, hadn’t she? Is there such a thing as consensual rape? In the normal world she would seek revenge, report it to the authorities and see ‘the boys’ pay for their actions. In ‘the game’ however, in the make believe realm, she knew there was no such redress. The people she was dealing with had different moral values and lived by ‘the rules’. It was her own fault anyway, she had run off naked knowing that she may be caught. She hadn’t given a thought to the consequences, she didn’t think she needed to; it just seemed like a bit of fun, a dare.
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