36

Chapter One

Prologue

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This time I have tried my hand in a story that is set in a distant future.

A little dystopic -- but it gives me the freedom to create people and places, and I thought it would be nice to try this genre.

This is not 'a fuck a page' story, so if that's what you are looking for -- this is not it!

It does have a lot of erotica, but it takes a little while to get started -- but I hope you'll give it a chance, as well as I hope you will like it. Comments -- as always -- very welcome!

girl

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There was a small noise in the undergrowth just behind her. Some dry leaves or twigs were disturbed. 36 froze and held her breath. She stood still as a statue -- taking in the silence around her. Hearing the thumbing of her own heart hammer in her ears.

After a short while, she exhaled and decided it must have been a small animal. Even though she had not moved very much, she might have disturbed it, or it was waking up for the night ahead.

She lifted her head and looked out over the field in front of her. The cows on the left stood absolutely still. Like her they seemed to await the dusk.

She was getting ready to move. It was almost time.

During the day, she had been hiding under this fallen tree -- and had covered herself with leaves as best she could -- but only slept lightly -- as always on the alert.

The red sun shone though the constant mist and slowly moved down to the horizon. It was indeed almost time.

The grey, hazy daylight turned into an even darker, colder hue. The bushes on her left lost their grey-green and slowly turned into a blurry shadow. The mist began forming a hazy shroud over the field, and the cows emitted a vaporous cloud, almost as if they were on fire.

She had seen the farmer come out to milk them earlier, so she knew they would be left alone there for the night.

Would it be safe to drink the milk? Probably not, but she was starving and had not had much to eat the last few days. Only some berries and a few roots, she had dug up with her fingers.

Now everything was quiet and she was waiting for the darkness to settle so she could cross the open field unseen.

A lonely bird chirped a few notes, and then went silent again. 'A melancholic salute to the setting sun', she thought. She wondered what kind of bird it was?

Now the darkness had settled and blurred all details. Slowly she rose and stretched her body. Her limps were cold and stiff from the long wait. She looked around once more and listened. Her ears were her best aid in the dark. There was nothing except the muffled sound of the cows moving about.

She bent down quickly and pulled her leather shoes off. Might as well save them. She was going to cross a field of grass, so there was no need for shoes. She checked the little pocket inside her 'dress'. Yes, the small, crude knife The Blacksmith had made for her was still there. It gave her a little comfort. She was not totally defenseless, even though she knew it was at best a false security. The knife could probably cut someone, but if more than one attacked her, she would be helpless. It was a flat, black iron piece. Soft iron. The Smith had taught her to sharpen it on any flat rock. The softness of the iron made it blunt from just lying in its pocket. On the other hand: When she had just sharpened it, it could cut anything. It had even begun to cut a slit in the leather holster she kept it in. Once more she pressed around the leather straps round the handle. It felt warm and secure. She would not give up without a fight -- never!

Slowly she moved out into the open, into the danger.

She never ran. Always moved slowly, silently and carefully. After all she did not really know where she was going. Just hoping she would find something to eat and drink. She did not feel hunger, only an emptiness inside. Her stomach had long since stopped complaining when it was empty. 'Strange', she thought. 'Hunger could just be ignored, and if ignored long enough just stops being an issue.'

She stayed in the shadow of the tree-line for as long as possible. Moving slowly and carefully. Listening and looking in all directions. At the absolute shortest open distance between her and the cows, she slid out and crossed the field. She knew that their udders would be almost empty, but there could always be milked a little from each of them. Enough for her, she hoped.

Her father had warned her -- a long time ago - against drinking milk from any animal. He had told her: 'You don't know where it has been grazing, and what might have found its way to the milk.'

She was too starved to care.

She used her hands and body to press against the cows, making room for her to slip in between them. She could hear them belch, gulp and making chewing noises as they were giving todays grass-menu another trip through their system. She patted the closest cow on the head and felt the warm air as it exhaled on her hand.

She waited a few minutes in silence until she heard the splashing sound as one of them relieved itself. She located the place and stepped in the fresh, hot dung with both feet. 'Ahhh.' The walk across the damp grass had frozen her already cold feet into numbness, now the warmth of the dung made her feet come back to life. She closed her eyes and let the warmth creep up inside her legs. She stepped a little up and down. This was a good trick. The dung would give at least the upper side of her feet a protective layer for most of the night, even though walking through the wet the grass would clean the soles quickly.

She picked out a cow in the dark. Put her arm over its head and buried her face into the warm, damp fur.

She whispered into its ears: 'So, so. You are going to help me. I am sorry, but I have to do this.'

She bent down, found the udder and pressed a thin ray of milk into her mouth. The cow did not react but stood perfectly still. She could feel the warm, creamy milk all the way down inside her.

She went on to the next teat. She only pressed once on each teat, then moved on -- and after the first cow, she moved to the next.

Feeling sure that if anyone would be looking, they would just see a bunch of cows standing peacefully in the field.

The last two cows had already gone down and was settling for the night, so she left them alone. Having had enough rich milk to make her feel strong again, she scratched the nearest cow between its horns, gave it a kiss and said in a low voice: "Thank you!" Then rose up and moved across the now totally dark field.

She hoped that it would be a moonless night.

Reaching the safe shadows on the other side of the field again, she ventured into the darkness of the forest. The moon had indeed risen, but it was covered in a murky haze and did not give much light. She looked up and through a sudden clearing in the haze, she saw a star for a moment, before the mist closed in again.

She decided to put her shoes on anyway. Better be safe. If she walked in the darkness, she might step on something and she needed the full use of her feet. Bits of dried cow dung scraped off as she pulled the leather over her feet.

For a while she moved relatively fast on a small path -- maybe an animal path? She made good progress, and was skilled in moving silently -- even in the dark..

Then she saw something flicker ahead. A fire? She stood absolutely still. A fire meant humans, and humans very often did not mean anything good. She strained her eyes to see. It was definitely a campfire up ahead.

She stepped to the right and began to slowly and carefully making a wide circle around the light. If it was humans, they probably had someone on guard, so she had to make a large circle, and passing outside the path meant that she had to be extra careful where she put her feet. She took the shoes off again. Her bare feet had a better chance of sensing where she walked and on what. Her movements became slower and much more careful..

She kept checking out where the fireplace was in relation to her direction.

For some reason she became curious. Maybe it was her stomach, that still called out for food, maybe she just wanted to make sure that these people were hostile, before passing the chance of getting warm, having company and being fed.

It did not make her less careful. She went down on all four, and began to creep closer. Her hands circling the spot in front of her constantly. Making sure there were no sharp stones -- or twigs that might break and reveal her position. She hoped they did not have dogs or guards.

Soon she could hear the muffled sound of voices. They had a deep tone - all male.

One last pull of her elbows and she could lift a branch and look into the clearing -- then she felt the chill all the way down her body: Slave traders!

She had a perfect view of the clearing. In the center, there were five men seated, facing the crackling logs in the campfire. Their automatic rifles placed within reach just behind each of them. They were looking into the fire -- good. That meant that their night vision was non-existing and they would not be able to spot her in the darkness of the forest. They all had long hair and beards, and were passing a skin-sack -- probably with wine or another kind of alcohol -- between them constantly. They were too far away for her to hear what they were saying or what language/dialect it might be, but the slurring of their voices and the way they moved told her that they were obviously drunk. There were no dogs in sight -- fortunately. On the far side to the left their horses were lined up. Tied to a long rope between two trees. She counted twelve horses and did her arithmetic quickly: one for each of the men, two for the supply wagon next to the horses. That made seven. Even with one or two spare horses, there would still be someone missing -- maybe the guards. She carefully looked round and listened, but saw or heard nobody. Then decided to lie very still for a while yet. At least till she had located the missing persons and made sure they were no danger to her.

She carefully let her eyes wander round the clearing -- then stopped cold.

Right behind the fire and the men she could see naked bodies lying on the ground -- and now she realized that the faint sound, she had heard over the men's laughter and talking, was a series of moans and low cries.

Between two large trees at the edge of the clearing was a heavy iron chain -- some of it reflected the light from the fire.

She clearly saw the crude, heavy padlock securing the chain round the trunk of the tree at her left.

It then went to the first of five bodies -- all naked women -- dirty and full of dark streaks -- the marks of a whip.

She strained her eyes to see better.

The chain was attached to a heavy steel collar round the first woman's neck - by another formidable padlock. Then on to the next woman -- again with a padlock to her collar -- and so on. Finally, the end of the chain went around the other tree -- and was locked round that.

The chain being so tight that it kept an even space between the women -- and made it impossible for them to have any contact.

Some of them where on their back and some on their side. Some of them where lying very still -- as if unconscious, some were moving slightly -- and it was from those, she had heard the muffled sounds of agony.

No wonder she had not heard anything louder: each of the women had a metal contraption round their heads, holding something in their mouths. It looked very uncomfortable and efficiently prevented them from making other than muffled sounds.

Their hands -- on their backs -- where locked together by equally heavy steel cuffs -- connected by a very short chain -- and on their ankles another set of shackles with a short chain between them.

Two of them even had a very tight fitted iron belt round their waists.

On the right of the clearing was a large, dirty, square tent. It was rag-tagged and seemed repaired or stuck together with a variety of material pieces. All of them more or less the same dirty earth color as the clothes the men were wearing.

The men kept talking and drinking -- and none of them seemed to be on the lookout -- obviously they felt quite secure.

Her eyes and ears constantly scanned the clearing and the woods behind her.

Trying to avoid looking at the fire to keep most of her night-vision, she ended up by looking closer at the women on the ground.

One of the women raised her head and looked round, then settled again. It was enough for her to get a good look at the device in round her head.

It consisted of a wooden or hard ball stuck in her mouth. Through the center of this ball went an iron rod.

This was 'U' shaped and went around her head -- pressing her lips back and making her close tightly on the ball. On the back of her head the ends of the iron rod went through a flat piece of iron, and on the back of that a nut in each side had been tightened to make the device sit perfectly and securely.

Most of the faces turning her way where shining in the light. A sign that a constant stream of saliva was running out and down their chins and faces.

She knew the device only too well, and knew that it made it almost impossible to swallow one's saliva...

Another shiver went down her spine.

Suddenly there was a rustling sound in the undergrowth from the far side of the clearing. All the men jumped up and grabbed their rifles. A cry came from the darkness and the men -- now standing round the fire -- replied, and seemed to relax again.

The way they had reacted confirmed to her that they had no guards out.

An eerie procession walked into the light: First a man with a rifle, then two men with a thick wooden branch between them -- resting on their shoulders -- and then finally the last man. All was now accounted for.

What really made her blood turn to ice was that on the branch a woman hung suspended by her wrists and ankles. She could see that her hands and feet had changed color. The tight leather ropes holding her around the branch had partly stopped the circulation. She was hanging quite limb and her head -- which was inside a brown, dirty sack -- was bend backwards. The string round her neck -- holding the sack in place -- looked like it was tightly bound.

She wondered if the woman was still alive.

She could see -- from the woman's arms and legs sticking out from her simple, grey, coarse dress -- that she was young and had smooth skin.

Probably a peasant woman that had been unfortunate to walk into these guys on some desolate path in the vicinity. She could not have had many chances against four armed men.

Two of the other men had been to the supply wagon, and now came back with two heavy, metal tripods.

They lifted the branch with the woman off their shoulders and hung it on the tripods.

Her body hung absolutely still, as they cut and tore her clothes off and threw them on the fire. The first sign that she was alive came, when the men proceeded to grope, pinch and poke all over her. Her body tensed and twisted in the restraints as if she had any way of avoiding the intruding hands and fingers.

36 understood some of their remarks even though it was a dialect she was not familiar with, but the combination of the groping hands, their laughter and comments left no doubt that they were checking if the woman was worth the trouble.

Small sounds from within the sack reached all the way over to the undergrowth, where 36 was hiding.

The bag was untied and pulled off, and in the flickering light from the fire, she clearly saw the girls frightened eyes and the very dirty cloth used to gag her mouth. It was sticking out on the sides of the rope wound tightly round her head several times.

Her chin and the surroundings of her mouth shone with the saliva she had no way of holding back.

One of the men took a firm grip of her hair and examined her face: Opening her eyes with two fingers, poking a finger up her nose, pressing on her cheeks. He let go as he said something 36 could not distinguish from her hiding place, but apparently, he had declared her healthy. Or healthy enough for their purposes.

They all laughed -- and the woman looked from one to the other with even bigger and more frightened eyes.

He grabbed her hair again -- and this time, he spoke in a language 36 could hear and understand. His voice booming over the crackle of the fire as he hissed in her face: 'Now I will change the gag and you will be free to scream as much as you like for a few moments -- but no one but us will hear you. The only thing you will achieve will be to make us angry and that will be very bad for you. Do you understand?'

The girl had no way of answering, but apparently the man decided that she had understood the message.

36 imagined how they had either waited for her -- or accidentally stumbled into her -- on some lonely path. She also imagined how the woman had begged for mercy and for them to let her go. They had probably done this many times before, so she would have had little chance against 4 grown and strong men. The gag and bag would have been put on her head very quickly - and maybe at gunpoint. After that she had probably been quite easy to tie up and place on the wooden beam.

36 did not understand or could place their language, when they spoke among each other, but when the man had spoken to the woman, she had understood him -- but not been able to place his accent.

The strap round the head came off and the cloth gag out.

36 could hear the woman saying something -- probably a last plea to be set free. Then -- while the man had kept his firm grip on her hair - a wooden ball on an iron rod was put over her head and in front of her lips.

She kept her mouth tightly closed as the ball touched her lips.

Another man grabbed her right nipple -- and pressing hard and twisting the nipple while pulling so the whole breast stretched upwards.

The woman screamed in pain, but the scream was muffled as the ball went into her mouth.

Several hands helped in pushing the flat iron piece on the end of the rod and up against the back of her head. Then the nuts went on -- and finally they used a set of pliers to tighten the arrangement, stretching her lips and tightening them around the ball.

She made a loud sound of pain from her throat as the nuts were given the last turns.

They let go and she shook her head as if she tried to get the thing out of her mouth again. They all laughed at that and one of the men even mocked her further by once again grabbing her hair and kissing her lips round the ball -- and licking her with his tongue.

Big tears ran out of her eyes, and shone in the night as they ran down the sides of her cheeks.

They stood there for a while, talking and pointing. Obviously discussing the woman's features -- and maybe trying to evaluate how much she would bring in at the slave market that they apparently were heading for.

One of the men had gone to the wagon. He now came back with a load of chains and metal objects that he threw on the ground with a loud, clanking noise.

He kicked the bundle of iron at his foot around for a little while, then bent down and lifted a heavy collar attached to two equally heavy chains from the bundle.

Again, a grip on the woman's hair held her head still, while skilled hands slid the collar round her neck, and the spanner were used once again to secure it firmly in place.

The chains hanging down from the front and back of the collar. She was almost ready to take her place among the unfortunates lying between the trees in the background.

None of the women there had reacted. They were probably all too tired and worn out to do anything than doze in their painful irons.

The woman on the branch again hung limb by her wrists and ankles. Her head bend backwards again -- probably in pain from the heavy collar and gag.