Female Prey & the Elusive Prey (12 page)

She ran her fingers through her hair, taking great pleasure in that simple act. In spite of all the time outdoors, her hair felt reasonably clean. She looked down at herself, ran her hands quickly over her body. No dirt, no grit…they must have cleaned her up before they put her here. Still, she had bruises, especially on her wrists, and her feet felt sore and tender.

She sat back down on the mattress and hugged her knees to her breasts. She was still naked, still just as helpless as she had been out in the woods, and she had no idea where she was. Her stomach growled, and she realized that she was also starving, and thirsty. They’d have to feed her, wouldn’t they? Sometime? She rested her forehead on her knees. She remembered what they’d made her do for water. What would they make her do for food? She shivered again. It was really all out of her hands, wasn’t it? To them, she was some captive animal to be used for their pleasure. This was not at all the kind of thrilling sexual adventure Barbara had made it out to be. This was hard use and humiliation and torture and suffering, brutality and force. They didn’t care about what she felt, what she wanted.

Well, right now, she wanted food. She thought about yelling to attract their attention, but it was very quiet in here, and if she couldn’t hear any noises from outside it wasn’t likely she could make herself heard to the outside. She nibbled at her lower lip for a moment, thinking. No, she wouldn’t yell, no matter how hungry she was. She would just wait. Sooner or later, they’d want her again, and then they’d come for her.

She could only sit huddled on the mattress for so long, though, before she started feeling restless. She stood up and gingerly put one foot down on the cement floor. It was cold, as she’d expected, but not too cold. In the dim light, she explored her cage, which took all of a minute or so. The walls were as solid as they looked, the steel bars were as unyielding as they appeared. The door seemed to be securely locked. It wouldn’t move at all, no matter how much she tried.

All that was left to look at was that far wall, and all those photographs. In the dim light they were too far away to see clearly. She could see that they looked like snapshots, and were roughly arranged in pairs. Peering intently, she thought that she could just make out that the pictures were all of women, naked. Each pair looked to be one full frontal view, and one full profile. She could not be completely sure, and she couldn’t make out any real features. The distance was too great, and the light far too dim.

Then it struck her: These were almost certainly photos of other women who had been held captive here…which meant…

She pulled her gaze away from that fascinating, horrible wall with an effort.
Her
pictures would be up there soon, along with all the others! She shuddered, and stumbled back to her mattress. She laid down on it with her back to the pictures and closed her eyes tightly.

They’d been checking on elf-girl every half-hour all through the night, all through the morning, and well into the afternoon, and every time she’d been asleep, out cold, oblivious. This time when he opened the heavy steel door the slender, naked form on the mattress moved, sitting up and turning to face him, covering herself with her hands. After one startled gasp she didn’t say anything. She just looked at him intently with those big blue eyes. He had to smile at her, but she didn’t seem at all reassured by it. He just looked at her for a long moment, enjoying the look of her. As the moment lengthened, she lowered her hands and tilted her stubborn little chin up defiantly. She looked even better that way.

He unlocked the cell door and opened it. Elf-girl stayed put on the mattress, but her eyes seemed to get bigger. He looked her over again.

“Stand up.” He ordered. She hesitated for just a moment before obeying, very slowly, warily. She seemed poised for flight, but just where she was going to fly to was another question.

Somehow, indoors, he looked even bigger and blacker than he had outdoors. He’d changed his camouflage outfit for jeans and a blue shirt, and he just leaned against the cell doorway and looked at her, smiling. She could feel his eyes moving over her as if they were his hands. She suppressed an urge to shudder, and another impulse to cover herself with her hands. He’d already seen everything, hadn’t he? Hadn’t they?

She certainly was a cute little thing, and there was still some fight left in her. She was also remarkably tough. The long, enforced hike through the woods had left her completely exhausted, but after one good, long sleep she seemed to have recovered…well, somewhat.

“You hungry?” he asked finally. She all but jumped at the sound of his voice, but then just nodded, her expression uncertain.

“Thought so.” He smiled. He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his hip pocket and held them up for her to see. “Let’s get these on you and then we’ll go get you fed.”

Kimberley hesitated. She really didn’t want to be bound again, or handcuffed, but the thought of food made her salivate, and her stomach growled. She stepped forward, holding out her hands in front of her.

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, still smiling. She sighed once, then turned around and put her hands behind her. She felt and heard the cold steel lock around her wrists, and was grateful that he did not ratchet the cuffs down tight. Her wrists were still sore from being bound for so long.

Her head bowed as he put the cuffs on her. Once she was secured, he clamped a hand on the exposed back of her neck. It was not a hard grip, but she flinched at his touch. He turned her around and steered her upstairs to the kitchen.

As she passed the wall, Kimberley risked a quick sideways glance. They were indeed all pictures of naked women, one full-frontal view, one profile view each, and it looked as if all of them had their hands tied behind them. There were no names on the pictures. She shuddered at the thought that her own pictures would be on that wall soon. At least she would be as anonymous as all of those other women.

It was a little warmer upstairs, and she could smell food cooking. It made her start salivating again. What would they make her do for food? Whatever it was, she was so hungry now that she was almost certain that she would do it. She was painfully hungry: Not I-want-a-snack hungry, not well-it’s-dinnertime hungry, but half-starved. In addition to making her salivate, the smell of that wonderful food was making her lightheaded.

The kitchen was larger than she would have expected, well-lit and clean. There was a massive wooden table against one wall, with four heavy wooden chairs. Next to one of the chairs was a thin mat. He steered her over to it.

“Kneel.” He ordered, squeezing the back of her neck gently. Obediently, she knelt.

He could feel her eyes on him as he ladled the thick chicken stew into a big wooden bowl. Well, most likely her eyes were on the stew. When he turned back to face her, he saw that she was still in the same position he’d left her, but her head was twisted around so she could look back over her shoulder. He saw her gaze fix on the steaming bowl. Her eyes widened, and she licked her lips furtively.

This was a part of the game that he particularly liked. He sat down in one of the chairs facing her, and stirred the stew for a moment with, of course, a wooden spoon. He scooped some stew up into the spoon and held it out to her. She leaned forward eagerly for it, and made a tiny noise of dismay as she discovered that it was a little bit too hot. She blew on it impatiently for a moment, and then leaned forward to take it into her mouth. He watched her chew and swallow quickly. Then she was leaning forward, mouth open, eager for the next spoonful.

It was fascinating to watch her eat. Her whole being seemed focused on that, and nothing else. Partway through the meal, she became too greedy, and some of the stew dribbled down onto her breasts. She didn’t seem to notice. She was really that hungry.

She was still hungry after she’d finished off the bowl. On impulse, he put the bowl down on the floor in front of her. She looked up at him for a moment warily…then at the bowl…then up at him…then back at the bowl. Finally her hunger overcame her and she bent over to lick the bowl clean. He watched her little pink tongue scouring the bowl for the very last bit of stew. When she’d licked that last bit up, she knelt upright again, her tongue tip flicking across her lips for any lingering taste. She looked up at him demurely, no doubt hoping for just a little bit more, please?

Well, she’d get more, but not right now. He leaned forward and gripped her by her hair. Short as it was, it wasn’t easy, but he used his grip to haul her upright and towards him. Leaning forward himself, he began licking the stray dribbles of stew off of her breasts and belly. She quivered and made little complaining noises, but one warning yank on her hair kept her from trying to pull away. He paid close attention to her nipples, licking and sucking them until they stood up, blushing deeply.

It was time to continue her education. Over the past few days, she’d been used roughly and often. She’d experienced hunger, thirst, physical exhaustion and pain. Now it was time to make her experience pleasure. He pulled her away from him, still keeping his grip on her hair, and stood up slowly. With both of them standing, the top of her head was just level with his chin. Her eyes were huge as she looked up at him. She looked worried about what he was going to do now. Good.

His free arm circled around her waist to pull her close to him, and he leaned down to plant a kiss on her half-opened mouth. She tried to draw away, tried to turn her head, but couldn’t stop him. He began forcing his tongue between her lips, and she clenched her teeth against him, whimpering. He moved his hand down to squeeze her cute little ass, then began to pinch it. Hard. She whimpered and struggled for a while before finally relenting. She opened her mouth for his tongue, and tried very hard not to respond to anything he was doing. Even so, when he pulled back from the kiss, her face was flushed, her breathing rapid, shallow and noisy.

There was a basic rule here about never fucking them in the kitchen. He let go of her hair and clamped his hand on the back of her neck again, more forcefully this time, and began guiding her back downstairs.

Her legs felt rubbery. If he hadn’t been right there to catch her, she would have stumbled and fallen down the stairs. His tongue-kiss had had a startling effect on her.

She was half-aroused, but those feelings were all mixed up with other feelings: Now that she’d eaten, even if it hadn’t been quite enough, her body wanted to sleep some more, but she was so worried about what he might have in mind now that the urge to sleep was pushed way back to the end of the line. His hand on her neck felt unusually warm and heavy.

He was surprised that she offered no resistance at all when he took her back into her cell and made her lie down on the mattress. She stayed right where he’d put her, face-down and not moving, until she felt him lie down next to her. Then she rolled half on to her side to look at him. She looked scared. He smiled at her and reached out to pull her close.

Not again! She thought, despairingly. But…there was nothing she could do, was there? He was much bigger than she was, and much, much stronger. All the same, her hands fluttered behind her in a blind and hopeless attempt to free themselves of the handcuffs. He began to kiss her again. She closed her eyes, and willed her body to go limp. She heard him chuckle.

Well, she was unresisting now, but also unresponsive. He wondered if she had any idea just how many times he’d seen this particular ploy. No matter. He gripped her by her hair again with one hand while his other hand began exploring her body. He began to push a knee between her legs. She kept her eyes closed, but he heard her whimper.

She had a lovely little body. His exploring hand slid down, cradled one round little ass cheek and squeezed gently as he took a nipple into her mouth and began to suck on it. He felt her body jerk, once, twice, and she whimpered again, more loudly.

NO! Her damned traitor body was beginning to respond to his touch in spite of the orders she was trying to give it! She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, and tried to think of something, anything, to distract her. Mentally, she began running through the long and boring catalogue from the last dig she’d been on. And then his hand let go of her rump and slid between her legs. She tried to clamp her thighs together, but one of his legs was between them, keeping them apart. She felt his fingers run slowly through the short, curly hairs down there, felt his fingertips moving softly along her pussy lips…and then between them…

She made a high, keening, whining noise, and her body bucked in his grip. He clenched his fingers more tightly in her hair, used his leg to pin down hers, and moved the finger already inside of her back and forth, back and forth, and then upwards towards the pink nubbin of her clitoris. He could feel her growing warmer and wetter. She bucked furiously, her eyes shut tight, lips drawn back from her clenched teeth in a feral snarl. He was glad he didn’t have any parts within reach of those sharp little teeth. She was grunting with her efforts to get away from him. When his fingertip brushed against her clit, her back arched, and she let out one tiny shriek. He kept her pinned, and ran his finger slowly around and around. She bucked, she writhed, she snarled and moaned, and then it seemed as if all the fight flew out of her. She went slack in his grip, panting and huffing, mouth open to suck in more air. He smiled, and went on teasing her. She was getting very wet now, in spite of herself. He could screw her now, and she wouldn’t resist, but the point was to get her to
want
it, to want it so badly that she would happily participate. His finger went on, circling, rubbing, teasing. He trailed wet kisses along her belly, across her breasts. She bucked again, but it was a half-hearted effort. He heard her whining, between her pants and grunts.

Her mind was filled with a roaring red haze that made clear thought impossible. She realized she was grinding herself against his invading hand, her hips starting to move in a slow, insistent rhythm. Damn him! Damn them!! She ground her teeth together, trying to stop the horrible, animal noises she was making. His mouth fastened wetly on her nipple again, and something like fireworks exploded, ‘way back in her brain.