Voyager

Avoiding the Jäger is easy with a horse, I just move away when I hear dogs or hunters, being careful not to get too close to the troops guarding the mountain's perimeter. I don't want any reports of a naked girl on a horse.

At Noon, I move back to the tree line and watch for the wagon. When it passes, I dismount, give my faithful steed a big wet kiss, and run down to the road. The wagon is filled with chained girls. I spy Marina at the side of the road; she gives me a nod as do her friends. Despite everything, it feels good to have their respect. I don't want to think about what it means to be a Jäger right now; to put girls on the cross. All I can think about is sweet victory!

++++++++++++

Defeat

Nemov stares at me as I walk back. There's a rumor that a guest's been seriously injured; Nemov must be beside himself--his perfect safety record ruined..."exceptions" galore. I avoid his stare and return to my cell. Later that day, I walk by the crosses; twenty girls are writhing in the afternoon sun, including the two who evaded last week. Surprisingly, most of the guests are here; it must be the excitement of a real injury. The man has a broken shoulder and is being flown back this evening...how terrible.

I watch the suffering of those being crucified; it's frightening, but also fascinating. Several times I consider offering my shoulders, but decide that I've already pushed my luck too far today. I'm also a victim here. Maybe when I get back to the world I can raise enough Hell to help, but there is nothing I can do right now. Sickeningly, I remember that I'm here for another three years. I must become Jäger; it's the only way! I'm halfway there.

I turn towards my cell then look back at the crosses. The sun is still high; they have a long way to go. I feel sad and angry. I spot Tory and her new guest approaching. She is naked again on a leash, but she flashes me a quick smile as we pass. I smile back.

She's proud of me. It often takes six months to evade the first time and a year to evade twice. This is only my second time out. Shit, even though I cheated, I have a right to be proud of myself. Once more and I'm a Jäger!

Nemov passes me and I pretend not to see him. I know he's suspicious. I want to give him the finger so much it hurts.

The next week flies by. This is it; if I can evade again, I'll be a Jäger then I can reserve Tory for myself. I know this is unlikely--Tory is practically a celebrity now and reserved by guests even before they arrive--but still there's a chance. Teresa also pops into my mind. She's also popular, but I might be able to take her every once in a while ...give her a break. Will I force her like the other Jäger...punish her? Is it possible to be a kind hunter...submissive or at least sympathetic to those who are submissive? These questions bother me, but I dismiss them for now...victory dilemmas aren't a problem until I've actually won.

On the day of the hunt I'm ready and feeling supremely confident that I can beat the system again. Nemov makes his usual speech, but keeps glancing in my direction. Fuck him. These are his rules; his lunatic asylum! I stretch in as insolent a way as I can manage. When the sun hits, I run like the wind to "my spot" and wait eagerly for the dogs. I'm so excited that I have to meditate for a minute to calm down. Tonight, I'll be Jäger!

Again, some of the dogs hesitate at the tree line, but eventually they all run after the herd of girls. It's working! All I needed to do now is pick another novice and spook his horse. Injuring someone else feels wrong, but what the Hell; they're the ones hunting naked girls, not me.

As the horsemen approach, I spot one who seems to be having trouble with his mount. I target him immediately and move into a hiding place close to where I guess he'll enter the forest. The other riders pass by, eagerly chasing the girls. I wait. After a few seconds, I hear him enter the forest and I change position. This guy is small and unsteady. I follow.

At exactly the right moment, I leap out and grab the animal's tail, reaching for his testicles. Suddenly, something bites me on the arm, then on the legs. I fall hard, stunned. The horse stops and the rider dismounts. Two Jäger move into my view, holding their long whips; I feel sick.

"Nice trick," one of them says. It's Marina, she's smiling. The other girl looks down at me without expression. The rider removes his jacket. He's one of the Jäger. It was a trap.

"Let's get her packed up," Marina orders. The other girl pulls out her binding straps and pig-ties me over the animals back. The rider remounts. "Take her back," Marina says, "and remember our orders." As soon as we're out of sight of Marina, the Jäger speaks, "so you were going to send me flying, huh?" Then she spanks me hard with her bare hand. It's not a man's spanking, but it hurts. Without waiting for the pain to stop, she begins to rub my vulva, moving her fingers into my wet cunt. I feel stupid and terrified, but her fingers, the motion of the horse, the feel of his hair and muscles on my bare skin...I come twice before we reach the road.

I know that my crucifixion will be agony, but only the first of many. Nemov will have no mercy for someone who purposely injures a guest. How could I have been so stupid...so arrogant?

We pass in front of the crosses, but don't stop. Instead, the Jäger guides the horse back to the compound. A strong man comes out and carries me inside the administration building. I'm locked in a tiny "protest" cage which is then covered with a blanket. What's going on? Aren't they going to crucify me?

No one bothers to explain; it's totally silent and dark. I wait in pain a long time, long enough so that I pray for another torment...anything. It takes an excruciatingly painful hour after they let me out before I can walk. Two men wash me down and lead me to another office.

An enormous wooden desk sits in the center of the room. I have never seen anything like it. It's designed to serve as a stock as well as a desk, with the victims head and hands held tight on the desktop. I back away, frightened but helpless with my hands bound behind. One guard pushes me to my knees while the other slides out the front of the desktop. He pushes me into the holes while the desktop is pushed back into position and locked. I struggle to pull my hands through the holes; it's impossible.

My ankles are cuffed and chained up to the sides of the desk. Metal clamps attached to my nipples; they don't hurt that much, but they are tight. Something cold is pushed into my cunt and asshole. They didn't feel like dildos, more like metal balls or cylinders. He straps on a leather chastity belt to keep them inside.

The guards stand behind the desk, watching me. My nipples start to ache but I stay quiet studying the grain of the wood under my nose.

In a few minutes, Nemov enters and the guards leave. He opens a draw and removes a small black box with dials and switches. I look up at him from the desktop.

"Good," he says, "now we're ready." He stares at my disembodied head. "This meeting will be used to confirm things that I already know, Jesse. I suggest you answer everything quickly and truthfully. Do you want to say anything before we begin?"

Somehow I find the courage to mutter a quick, "Fuck you, Asshole!"

He doesn't even blink. "Did you cause the injury to our guest last week?"

I remain silent. He waits a few seconds and then pulls a ball gag from the desk. I struggle, but it's no use. He turns a dial and touches a button. For those who have never experienced it, there are no words that can describe the pain of electricity; for those who have, no words are necessary. The shock enters through my breasts and travels to my ass. It feels as if someone is scraping out my insides along the way. I bite down on the gag and feel the rubber split; my eyes bulge and then roll back into my head; I feel beads of sweat on my forehead; there's a coppery taste in my mouth; I can't breathe. Breathing is the first priority once the pain stops. All I can manage for a while is a shallow pant that barely gets air into my mouth. I look up at Nemov; he's watching me with clinical interest. This is familiar territory for him. I feel...confused. How could he, any human being, do that and feel nothing? Even a squashed bug gets a moment of regret.

He removes the damaged gag then moves to press the button again. I pitifully shake my head and whine. He doesn't hesitate even a moment. I pass out. He uses smelling salts to bring me back to his private Hell.

"Did you cause the injury to our guest last week?" he asks again.

I struggle to speak, but am still unable to catch my breath. I begin to cry Like a baby; drool pours out of my mouth over the desktop. He presses the button again; I try to scream, but can't; I don't have enough breath.

"Did you cause the injury to our guest last week?" he asks again.

I concentrate and push the word out of my mouth, "Ye...yes." He nods, pulls out a piece of paper and writes something down. Then he waits while I try to calm down. Finally, he looks at me and I nod--I'm ready now, thanks for the break you fucking bastard. It's almost as if we're working together now.

He begins again. "Who are your friends here?" Still in a cloud of pain, I don't quite understand his question. His hand moves to another button. I try to ask what he means. My cunt catches fire. I feel as if someone has stuck me there with red hot needles. Again, I try to scream, but all that comes out is a pitiful gurgle and a large quantity of drool. Nemov smiles and uses a towel to clean the desktop around my head.

Who are your friends here," he asks again.

"Tor...y," I pant.

"Yes, I know about her; who else?" He is impatient.

"Ter...Ter...Teresa," I gasp. I would have given up my mother to stop this pain.

"Oh yes, Tory and Teresa. Thank you," he writes their names on the paper.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Jesse," he says sadly. "You are an incredibly beautiful creature. I had hoped that you would fit in here at Turkslaw... become one of our leaders." I'm only following a part of what he's saying, still trying to unscrambled my brain. "I even thought you would eventually become a trusted agent, more than just a Jäger. I can see now that my opinion was clouded by your allure."

What nonsense is this? I try to focus, to stop drooling.

"Maybe you can still be a model for the other girls, but now it will be as an example." I try to speak, but find that I am incapable of forming words.

Nemov seems eager for an answer and leans in to hear. "You wish to speak?"

"I...I pro...protest," I manage to get out the ultimate safe word; the word that he said would work under any circumstances. Even the cage is better than this.

"Ah, yes, 'protest.' I understand you wish to 'protest' your treatment," he draws out the magical word as if agreeing that it has supernatural powers. "I'm sorry, Jesse. Unfortunately, that right is no longer available to you. Assault is a very serious crime in this country, especially for a CELT. I am now officially investigating the matter and you are no longer free to protest while that investigation is underway.

This is bullshit of course. Until I call my lawyer or I am arrested, what he's doing is unlawful. Not that it matters, he holds all the cards here.

"Let me explain your punishment while the investigation is underway. You will spend the next 30 days in a dungeon cell. You will be bound in ways that maximize your pain at all times other than when you will eat, exercise, or wash. Every evening, you will be disciplined publicly for our guests. I promise you that your punishment will be the worst of your young life." He pauses as if for dramatic effect. "I won't say anymore now, I don't want to spoil it for you. Just remember my promise."

I am unmoved; in fact, I hardly hear what he says. I am concentrating on his fingers. Those ten digits are now my entire world. When they start to move towards the button again, I scream. Not really scream; I still don't have enough air yet for that; it's more like a high pitched groan. I also try to plead with my eyes; I've been told that they are quite beautiful and expressive.

Nemov leans over the desk and looks directly into my face. "You are extraordinarily beautiful, Jesse. Consider the next 30 days our courtship. After that, we'll be married for three long years. I'll need to be careful with your mind, but have no fear; you will feel everything. The current starts to build. My entire body hurts. I shake my head to expel a long anguished "nooooooo." He smiles for the first time; this is his finale. I begin to scream silently. My last rationale thought is of Howard; after that, it's all pain.

++++++++++++

Punishment

My room is all pink. Warm California beaches and high school friends are in my dreams. Mom calls up for me to get out of bed. I try, but for some reason I can't throw off the covers. I open one eye and look up at my wrist; it's encased in a thick leather cuff. I look over at Mom and see...Alexsandr.

"Mr. Nemov says you are to suffer, my tall beauty, for thirty days." He checks my bindings as he talks. ...Quite a challenge. The pain is easy, but to do it without marking you or damaging your mind, that's more difficult. Interesting problem, no?"

I'm hanging naked by my wrists from a ceiling chain. I have no idea of the time or where I am; Nemov's desk is a vague memory. Funny thing about pain; it's impossible to remember the exact feelings, only the dread.

"Wake up now." He pinches a nipple. "You don't want to get the Senior Lieutenant in trouble, do you?" I looked at him absently. Nice dream...had all that been real once? It seems so distant; maybe it's somebody else's life?

"Fuck off, Faggot," I say quietly, no longer caring.

He grabs my hair and pulls back hard. "You know, I actually like you," he says. "Under different circumstances, we might be friends."

"I don't have any sadistic faggot friends," I reply, "and you know what? I don't want any."

He laughs as he unhooks me from the ceiling chain and pushes me to the floor. "This is good. You still have your spirit." He lifts my wrists and attached them to the chain then does the same for my ankles. I can't resist; my arms are like water. I hear the pulley; soon only my stomach and pelvis are touching the ground. My bent back is already starting to hurt. He gathers my hair and ties it back to keep my head upright. Thirty days! What day is this? I feel something cold touch my nipples and moan even before he releases the spring. They are Piranhas, round nipple clamps that use spring loaded triangular points. I know them well; the pain shoots into my brain. "Please, Lieutenant," I moan. "The Piranhas aren't necessary, are they?"

Alexsandr squeezes my breasts then stands back watching my body move. "No Beauty, they aren't necessary. In fact, it's more work for me. I'll need to change you sooner, but I take pride in my work. And by the way, it's Senior Lieutenant."

I groan inside... I will myself to stop moving, it's only making things worse. Use your mind! Isolate the pain and then push it away. He gently pushes an ass hook inside and then ties my hair to its loop. "You won't be able to hold your head back for long then the pain in your ass will begin," he says into my upturned face, "just when your nipples start to go numb."

It's true, he is an artist. The pain is unbearable, but I stayed quiet. Why give him the satisfaction? My nipples are already getting numb. Why didn't he lift me higher? This must be a low key torment by their definition, designed for longer periods. I try to return to my dream. It's impossible; I hurt too much...maybe in a little while. I suffer patiently, no other choice. That evening, or six positions later, which is how I'm beginning to tell time, Alexsandr returns and "baths" me; I say baths because there is water and soap involved, but it is more like another torture.

It's a simple process; he just chains my hands behind and lifts them to shoulder level. I'm standing on my toes in a wash tub. He washes me thoroughly with a long brush and a sponge. A cleaning rod is used inside. It hurts. He inserts a wooden mouth piece and brushes my teeth. I stare at him as he methodically steps through the process. It's a strangely intimate experience and I'm reminded of my time as a pony girl at Bitter Wells.

After, he ties my wrists and elbows behind my back and pulls on a hood. I'm led away on a leash. After a while, the floor changes from wood to plush rugs. He tethers me to an overhead chain.

I hear people shuffling into seats. A naked body is roughly pushed against mine. It's a woman. We're belted together face-to-face. My arms are tied to hers, pulled to the sides, and attached to a metal bar that's now between our necks. Slowly the bar is raised until we're on our toes.

Another whipping...who is this girl? My hood is loosened and lifted. Before I can adjust to the light, another larger hood goes over both of our heads and is tightened at the neck.

"Tory?" I whisper. "Jesse!" she cries happily. "I thought you were buried in the forest somewhere. There are all kinds of rumors. What happened?" Before I can answer she continues on. "The man who was hurt is suing. Nemov seems to be having some kind of breakdown. He spends all of his time in his office." I was only half listening. The touch of her body is intoxicating. Tears of joy spilled out of my eyes.

"Tory, Tory," I keep repeating her name, running my tongue inside her ear, mashing my cunt into hers. I want to kiss, but we can't turn our heads that far. "Why are you here?" I ask.

"I don't know," she whispers, excited. "They took me away from my man and brought me here. Do you know anything?" she asks.

I remembered Nemov's words, "This punishment will be the worst of your young life." "I'm sorry Tory, they're going to punish me for tipping that rider. They probably think it will be worse if you are somehow part of it. I'm so sorry."

"Tipping a rider?" she asks confused.

"I made that man fall off his horse." Surprisingly, there's a hint of pride in my voice.

"You made him fall?" she says in awe, "...off his horse?"

"That's how I evaded the Jäger. I was trying to do it a second time when I got caught."

"No shit!" she says. "Jess, I want to go home. I didn't understand what this is place is all about. I don't care about the money anymore, I never did. I just want to go home." She rubs her cheek against mine and pushed her tongue into my ear.

"I know sweetheart," I answer, "but don't protest, OK? Nemov knows you're a friend of mine. He will make it twice as hard for you to get out. A month or two in those tiny cages isn't an option, and there's no guarantee he'll follow any rules now."

"I know, but..." she jumps and yelps in my ear. I can hear the echo of a leather paddle on bare skin. Someone is talking.

"Oh, that stings..." she cries.

"Quiet!" I say roughly, "let me listen."

Nemov is addressing the crowd; I can just barely hear him through the leather hood. "...the specific nature of her crime is confidential, but trust me honored guests, it was serious. Instead of punishing her directly though, we thought it would be interesting to see how she responds to watching and feeling the pain of her friends, knowing that she is the cause of their suffering."

My body freezes and I stop listening. "What is he saying, Jess?" It was Tory."

"Ah, he says..." How can I tell her! "He says..." I try again, "that..."

Suddenly, our hood is removed. Again, the light is blinding. Someone grabs my head and turns it to the side, mashing my mouth into hers. I open wide to keep from biting her; another belt is tied behind our necks to keep us joined in the kiss. I can touch the back of her throat with my tongue. Slowly, my eyes adjust. Alexsandr is standing behind Tory holding a short, multi-strand flogger. He looks...angry. I try to turn us, but it's impossible with our feet tied together. He looks at me as he shakes out the whip then applies the first stroke. Tory takes it on the back of her legs and jerks in pain. I can feel her tongue curling. I try to turn us again. Another stroke on Tory's back, a little higher; she starts to breathe hard. I can feel her nipples hardening. More strokes... She's shaking now; her tongue is fluttering and her panting is making me hyperventilate.