Restraint (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (30 page)

Branches slash my cheeks and thorny vines snag my skin and clothing. My mind is clear of all thought except escape
. My hands instinctually rise and fall, protecting me from the brutal violence of nature.

Four bodies, blurry from motion, charge me from different sides- herding me, running me to ground as a pack.

I’ve walked this path since I was a child. I know every dip, curve, and incline. Up until just moments ago, this was where I went to clear my mind and seek solitude. Now, I run for my life, hoping my knowledge will pull me through to the other side- safety.

They run in perfect synchronization, breathing in harmony, legs moving with the same gracefulness. If it weren’t me or them
, I may have found their symmetry breathtakingly beautiful.

I speed up on the descent down the ravine. My sneakers skid on soft dirt and pebbles roll me
, making it nearly impossible to stay upright. I catch my fall several times by grabbing roots and branches. I acknowledge no pain from my palms that are rapidly beating with the pounding of my heart. I slide down the embankment on my rear. By the time I reach the bottom, my shorts are shredded and damp from blood.

They allow me no rest, for they are closing in from all sides. They try to pull me off my course. It’s working. I am no longer on the trail. I am beside it
, going at an angle. The one in charge is maneuvering me to his destination, and I am powerless to stop it.

The primal, animal side of my brain already recognizes its capture. My body floods with adrenaline. A quaking rocks my entire body
, slowing my pace. I shiver in the cold, even as my body erupts with sweat.

My logical brain will not give up. Never give up. I will fight to my very death. My mind spins escape routes and defense plans as I am led, pushed, and driven by the unit.

My only escape is the lake. If I can get to the water, I can swim to safety. Like the trail, I know everything about the lake. The tree canopy casts rays of light for my path. The crystalline waters glisten invitingly, beckoning me towards its secure embrace.

The leader comes into focus just off to my right. I stumble when I see the fierce expression on his
cruel face, the look of triumph as he gains on his prize.

“It won’t be long, boys,” his smug voice sounds like broken glass to my sensitive ears.

He is in easy reach now. I veer to the left, away from his grasp, and miscalculate the trajectory of the other hunters. Arms enclose me from the side. I close my eyes in defeat.

“I’m so sorry,” a young voice whispers against my hair.
   

I hold my
agonized scream, swallow it and choke on it, as my captor’s leg sweeps mine from beneath me. I fall to the ground, expecting a hard impact, but he takes the brunt of the fall.

I thrash my arms and legs trying to break his hold.
My punches and slaps land with a dull thump and reverberate down my arms. His grunt of pain lights satisfaction throughout my body. I may not win, but he’s going to hurt, too. Breathlessly, I lash out as an animal would, fingers curling into claws, sounds of pain spilling from my throat. The more panicked I become, the less affective my struggles are. I fight for my life, but it does no good. It doesn’t save me from my violent fate. Other hands join my captor’s, holding me down to the hard-packed ground. Medium sized hands- all of them.

Whether in reality or remembrance I can never place a face to the young men.
My mind withholds this knowledge, whether it’s to protect me, I do not know. Their faces, their bodies, their everything is blurred- everything but the hands that hold- the hands that ultimately harm me.

I look wildly about until my eyes land on the leader. He proudly stands watching the scene with smug satisfaction. Now, him, I never forget. I remember every detail in Technicolor. He’s a tall, lean man that’s well dressed and handsome
, except for his expression of malice and the aura of madness radiating off of him. He is a man that if you saw him on the street, you’d think he was a gentlemen, and all too late, you’d feel the sickness leaking from his pores.

I
helplessly and hopelessly lay on the forest floor, an animal in a trap. One male leans on my feet with his hands on my shins, restraining me. Another pins my arms above my head. The third, the one that ultimately captured me, is petting my face. It’s his sick and twisted way of calming me.

“Well, which of you wants to go first? She’s definitely
ready now.” The leader speaks of me as if I’m truly an animal- meaningless. I’m a thing to use- a disposable playtoy.

“No,” the third orders
. “You aren’t going to subject her to all of us,” he growls with authority.

Blessedly, the third
turns my face to the side so I can no longer see their leader. My view is of the lake. Its crystalline water, that promised safety, now taunts me. I try to reach out to the water for help. A whimper escapes my lips when it doesn’t envelope me in its watery embrace.

“Well, this is my son
’s first hunt. I thought we’d share in the spoils and dispose her in the lake.” A sinister laugh bubbles up from his chest, pure evil anticipation. My body tries to shudder, but it’s immobilized by two of the boys, but nowhere near as immobilized as I am by my fear. Fear rolls over me and takes me under. It envelopes me in its darkness. It leads me to a place that can only be called Hell. The dark recesses of my mind are scarier than my violent reality.

“This way we can do anything we want and no one will hear us.
” Madness leaks from the Leader’s voice. “We can take our time.
And look at that lake, no one would find her for days. I planned this perfectly.”

“No,” the third repeats. “It’s my first time and my first hunt. I will not share.” His voice sounds strong, but his body betrays him. His hands shake against my face. His eyes roll to meet the gaze of boy number one, and hold for a moment- silently communicating.

“No, I wouldn’t want to share on my first time
, either. It’s his birthday, he should get to pick,” boy number one says, as he’s stationed at my feet.

“Son, what exactly do you propose? My patience is wearing thin with your petulance.” The leader’s voice is softer when he speaks to number three. 

“Just me- the others go into the woods a distance. I don’t want an audience. No harming her, either. She’s just a girl.” He strokes my face like I’m his pet. I try to ignore the sensation but it overpowers everything else.

“
Fine, you have a choice. We all get a turn and I end her life when we’re through or we go with your plan, but I get to have a go. I promise that she will live, but I doubt she will wish she had when I’m finished,” he arrogantly says.

“No, just me,” t
he third boy hisses at his father’s face.

A slap reverberates from his
jaw down through his fingertips. Its force shakes my face.

“Take it or leave it, S
on. This is not a negotiation. I didn’t go to all the trouble of making you, getting you back, and bringing you friends, for you to disrespect me like this in front of our catch.” His voice is cold and detached.

His boot kicks me in the ribs. I bite my bottom lip to
keep the scream that is building from erupting. The pain is excruciating, sharp and burning agony- fire races across my ribs and flows down my spine. It’s difficult to breathe. Every breath shoots painful stabs up my side. I bloody my lip to keep the wounded sounds at bay.

I count slowly
and breathe shallowly. Eventually I am able to concentrate on the feel of the moss beneath my cheek, the damp scent of the ground, the lapping of the water on the shore- anything except my circumstances.

Hands disappear from my body signaling that the negotiation is over. I see a pair of young men slip into the woods just out of sight.
I detachably realize that this means I get to live. They chose the option where I get to live when this is over, but I may wish I hadn’t.

I release a heavy sigh and draw in fresh
, clean air. My lungs fill to capacity and my rib protests the fullness. My body eases with the realization that I may get to see another day. I know that the leader thinks I will regret it. But as long as I have a tomorrow, I can endure today.

Self-preservation wins out over the fight or flight instinct. I numbly lay and
don’t fight as the third boy unbuttons my shorts, draws the zipper down, and slides them off my hips. My heart rate goes in to hyperdrive. I eat my heartbeat as he spreads my thighs and kneels between them. He gently lifts me and places my short under my bottom as a cushion.

“Look away,” he orders his father, his
voice is scratchy-rough.

“Now, son, where would the enjoyment be in that?” Y
ou can hear the amusement in the Leader’s voice.

I close my eyes
and tell myself to let nature takes its course. It will be less violent if I submit. Number three is being surprisingly gentle, rubbing my tummy trying to calm me.

“Son, do I need to show yo
u what to do? I know this is your first time with a girl, as this incarnation. I’ve had much fun with you and your friends, but it’s time the gay side of you enjoyed a woman. Come on, you have a minute to do it or I will,” the Leader menacingly threatens. “You aren’t making love to the girl. Just fuck her and get it over with. I know you know how to fuck,” he says in disgust.

The metal on metal sound of a
zipper lowering has my eyes tightly squeezing shut. If I can’t see it, it’s not really happening. Betraying tears leak down the sides of my face and wet the hair near my ears. A warm, heavy weight lies on me and covers my body. His hand reaches forward and pulls my head into his chest.

“There… there… Shh..
. He can’t see any of you. I promise,” he softly says, but his voice breaks in fear. I know it’s not a promise he can keep.

I start to shake uncontrollably.
I’m too smart to think the thoughts most people would dwell on. It’s not supposed to happen to me. I can’t believe this is happening to me. I know there are no guarantees, and I find no comfort from the thought. My life or death is in the hands of the leader and his son. There is no escape, no rescue, no reasoning or pleading my way out of this. My only option is to endure and pray that I live through it.

I try to distance myself as I had during the negotiation and I can’t find the switch in my brain. I start to panic. I bite my lip against the terrorized scream that is threatening to spill from between my lips. I’m frozen in fear, I can’t even move my fingertips.

“Can I at least enter her without you hovering?”
The son says in annoyance.

“Fine, I’ll be back in two minutes. I have to make sure the boys didn’t run off. If they run a
gain, I’ll kill them this time,” he threatens.

“I know- they know.”
He speaks as if he’s heard the threat a thousand times before and he’s bored with it.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want to do this to you, none of us do. Well,
I’m sure he does,” he snidely says about his father. “He kidnapped us all. First he took me from my home, from my bed, and then he went back and took the others. I know he’s capable of exactly what he says… we’ve seen him in action over the past few days. I’m so sorry,” he repeats like it changes a damned thing.

He shifts his body so that I feel him press against my sensitive flesh.
He’s hot and firm and I whimper in fear. I try to press my back into the unyielding ground to get away.

“I’m sorry. It has to be this way. It’s the only way I can protect some of us. He’s already taken so much from my frie
nds. This way you’ll have two less people inside you, and they can keep what little innocence they have left. I am so sorry,” he cries in shame.

He flexes his hips and enters me with searing pain
, impaling, pushing deep where nothing has gone before. My eyes pop wide open and my mouth forms a silent scream. My fingernails claw into the compacted earth and dig- tearing my nails until I feel the wetness of their blood. The switch flips over in my mind as he slowly rocks into me. I process very little with the exception of his control. He holds so much back in an effort not to harm me.

My eyes hold wide with fright as I concentrate on the wisps of clouds peeking thr
ough the voids in the tree tops. I stare at the canopy instead of feeling the sensations rocking my body. I zone out and watch the magnificent beauty of nature instead of experiencing the brutal nature of man.

A sinister laugh brings my gaze to the middle aged man
holding my wrists above my head. His nails bite into the thin skin, leaving crimson crescents filling with blood. His pale, clammy skin is revolting, but not as vile as the expression on his face.

The sensations rush into my system as he leers down at me
. The pain throws the switch wide open. I see more clearly than I had before. I finally register what the boy looks like, his musky masculine scent filling my nose, his touch on my flesh, his taste on the back of my tongue, and our bodies connected at our sexes. Pain and terror mix, racing my heart and creating a chemical reaction in my blood. Adrenaline rushes through my body as I try to fight. Every movement causes the nails to dig deeper, to draw blood.