D2-670A
Part 12
Shana had no idea where she was - and that wasn't just because she'd apparently
been carried kicking and screaming into another dimension. Upon arriving, she'd
had a glimpse of a domed room furnished by an extremely large bed and a series
of expensive looking tapestries, but that had been all.
"Secure them," one of the tourists had said, and a moment later a thick
blindfold had been pulled over her eyes. A pair of earplugs had followed,
stealing even this most basic of senses from her. And then Shana had been
carried for a short distance, loaded into some kind of vehicle, and driven to
another destination. The whole time she had worked at the knots binding her and
fought against the gag stifling her speech. But it had been a waste of time. The
ropes were too well secured to be worked loose, and the knots were all tied out
of reach of her questing fingers.
She had then been removed from the transport vehicle and again carried a short
distance, before being laid down on a cold, wooden floor. And that was where she
now lay, wondering what could possibly happen next.
Shana did not have to wait long for her answer. Within a few minutes, a pair of
hands began pawing at her body - fondling her breasts, slapping her buttocks,
even rubbing against her pubic mount. Shana squealed and tried to pull away. She
received a sharp slap on her right breast for her troubles, but ignored it and
continued to squirm away from her attacker's hands.
Suddenly, she felt her ear plugs being pulled free before a deep voice growled:
"Enough, slave!" Something in the tone of the voice stopped Shana's squirming
cold. She sensed that to disobey the voice would invite pain - and much of it.
"You see?" said another voice, one that she thought she recognized as one of the
tourist's. "Our initial trip was not without reward."
"But Marcus and his bitch-whore-slaves remain at large in D2-670A?" the deep
voice rumbled.
"Along with Marcus' bodyguard, Rufus. Yes, Counselor."
"Then you and your team have failed, Edric. And you know that neither I, nor the
rest of the Council, accepts failure. What are you prepared to do about this?"
"We will return to D2-670A," said the familiar voice, "Without hesitation."
"Good. See to it that Marcus and Rufus are eliminated and the Rene-slut is
brought back to me. I will deal with her initial punishment myself - before she
is sentenced to Reigel. His other whore you can do with as you will "
"We will leave within the hour."
"Oh, and one more thing ..."
"Yes, Counselor?"
"There are to be no native witnesses. None. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly, Counselor."
Shana heard the sound of footsteps receding and had time to hope that Rene and
Daphne had escaped to some place far away. But then the hands were back kneading
her breasts, and were this time accompanied by grunting sounds of pleasure.
Shivering with disgust, Shana curled up inside herself and hoped whatever
happened next would be over quickly.
*****
Rene stood over the motionless form of the female torturer. She knew her well
placed blows had not been hard enough to kill the woman, and for a moment,
contemplated finishing her off. But then she realized that a hostage would make
much better sense given their impending flight for freedom.
Wasting no further time, Rene stepped up to the woman that she had spent the
night bound to, and set about unbuckling her gag. She recognized the woman on
the horse as the one she had grappled with outside Daphne's home the night
before. The fact that she was evidently a prisoner herself only confused Rene.
Wasn't she the one that had brought the men in black down upon them?
The blonde woman coughed and spluttered as Rene removed the ring gag with its
attached plug from her mouth. By the time she managed to croak a "Thank you",
Rene was already working on the straps holding her against the rack. She waited
until the woman had recovered her breath and had had a chance to swallow freely
before addressing her.
"Okay, I need you to listen carefully if we're going to get out of here. My
name's Rene, and I'm looking for two other girls." She freed the woman's right
hand and quickly attacked the left. "One's a thin redhead, and the other is
younger and shorter with darker hair and skin. Have you seen them?"
The woman frowned. "Daphne, and her friend, Shana?" her voice was still
scratchy.
Rene paused, and her heart skipped a beat. "Dr ..." She hesitated. The title
felt strange when applied to a female. "... Dr Landcom?"
The woman, nodded, looking confused, and Rene smiled. Finally a stroke of luck
had gone her way.
"Have we met? You seem so familiar ..." She half trailed off, but before Rene
could respond she added: "But what's happened to Daphne and Shana?"
Rene finished unbuckling the doctor's second hand. "I've got a hell of story for
you, doctor, and we'll find Daphne and Shana, I promise. But the first thing I
need to know is who is your friend on the horse over there?"
"That's Veronica Sloane. She was Lois's personal advisor ... or was until
recently. It looks like she must have been demoted." Dr Landcom sighed with
relief as Rene loosened the strap around her chest. Veronica was looking over
her shoulder at them, her red-rimmed eyes wide with pleading. She managed an
accompanying grunt through the inflated bladder gagging her.
"She attacked me just before I was taken myself, so I'm not sure whose side
she's playing on." Rene bent down to finish freeing the Dr Landcom's legs. "We
need to work out what to do with her."
Finally, the doctor was free. She gingerly climbed off the rack and stood,
naked, in the middle of the basement dungeon. She made a half hearted attempt to
cover herself, then seemed to realize the futility of such a gesture.
"We should get your tormenter there bound and gagged before she wakes up."
"Her name is Lois Davenport and she's the CEO of this company building."
"So she's rich and powerful?"
Dr Landcom nodded in reply.
Rene smiled slowly. "Good. Then she's going to make an even better hostage than
I'd hoped, Dr Landcom."
"Call me Heather," said the other woman. She bent down over Lois. "I could do
with these clothes before we tie her up."
Rene walked over to a side table and grabbed a few discarded coils of cotton
rope. "Well then, Heather" she said as she turned back, "Strip away."
They started with her boots. Rene took the left and Heather the right. The
patented leather slid off Lois' stockinged feet easily. Heather then undid the
button on the short leather skirt, slid the zipper down and pulled the skirt
over her hips. Neither woman was surprised to see that Lois was not wearing any
underwear beneath her garter belt. She began to groan as they pulled her arms
out of her vest, and unknotted the necktie at her throat. Rene worked quickly to
undo enough buttons on Lois' white shirt - including those at the cuffs - to
pull the starched garment over her head.
"Get her garter belt and stockings," said Rene, as she unhooked the newly
exposed white support bra. An idea was beginning to formulate - perhaps the only
one that would get them both out of this mess without being recaptured.
"Do we need them?"
As if answer, Lois groaned more loudly.
"We do if you're going to play the part of the female mistress." Rene scooped up
some of the cotton rope. "Now hurry, before she fully wakes up."
*****
Rufus was being picky.
He knew the importance of selecting exactly the right female. The Council would
not be happy with anything other than a flawlessly beautiful slave, so to return
with anything else bound, gagged, and stuffed in the boot of the car would be
pointless. Marcus would only berate him and send him back out again.
For his vigil, he had parked the stolen car in a side alley leading off a
reasonably busy, but poorly lit street, and wandered out to mingle with the
inhabitants of D2-670A. Many different women passed him by, but all had some
kind of defect that automatically ruled them out. Too short, too thin, too fat.
Breasts that were too small or sagging; asses that were far from perfectly
shaped. Rufus peered at them all, but then allowed each to pass him by.
He had lost track of time. It had been mid-morning when he left Marcus and the
slave, so he was surprised to see that it was almost 2pm when he glanced at his
watch. He decided to give it another half hour before moving to a new hunting
ground. Looking up, he caught a glimpse of a floral shirt through the
mid-afternoon crowd. A chill ran through him as he caught sight of three other
men wearing similar shirts and matching sunglasses. It only took him a moment
more to realize who he was staring at ... and that they were making a bee-line
straight for him.
The big man turned and sprinted for the alley. He slammed into a suited man,
knocking him from his feet, and from behind, heard shouts as the Council Reps
surged after him.
Rufus turned the corner and almost threw himself across the bonnet of the car.
He fumbled with the keys in his pocket, half tempted to grab his MP-432 and
blast the first Rep to round the corner. Instead he jerked open the driver's
door and dived inside. Just as he was yanking the keys free from his pants
pocket, he heard the whomp! of an energy weapon being fired. He felt more than
saw the beam crackle over the car and explode somewhere behind him. And then his
gaze locked on the Reps standing in the mouth of the alley, their weapons raised
and pointed at him through the windshield.
Ever so slowly, Rufus raised his arms.
*****
