You're Our Bitch Now - FTDS

One of the masked guys was looking at his watch. He raised a hand and gave a press on an air horn, its blast shattering the quiet of the woods. "Fifteen minutes," hubby said.

Two of them took off running, while Jerry continued to plead his case.

Hubby walked over in front of him. "If you don't make this fun for us, if we catch you in less than an hour, I'm going to take your wife and children, and make them the center of the same kind of party you threw for my wife. Over and over again, until they beg me to kill them. I'd run if I were you."

Jerry's kids were 10 and 12. I had no doubt the man would do exactly what he claimed. I guess Jerry believed him too, and took off running.

A few minutes later Steve's hands were released, and he was quick to cut his own legs free. He still took a few seconds to turn toward me and kick me as hard as he could in the ribs. "Damn you for getting me caught up in this!" he spat. "If we both survive, I'm coming after you!" Then he was off running into the woods. Only seconds after he left, the guy with the air-horn gave it another blast.

I noticed Steve took off in a different direction, at right angles to the rutted path we came in on. That seemed like a good idea. There were five of us, and four of them. If we headed different directions, they couldn't follow all of us. Of course, the chances of running into the wife weren't so good.

Then it was my turn. The ropes around my hands were cut, not too cleanly, leaving me bleeding. Then I was handed the tiny knife. I pulled the gag off my mouth, while cutting the ropes around my ankles. "This is crazy, you know. You'll never get away with it. It was just sex, damn it! Nobody gets killed over sex."

"Maybe more people should," one of the masked guys said.

Hubby leaned over me. "I don't want you to die too soon. That wouldn't be fun. So I'm going to give you a hint. The woods back the way we came are booby-trapped. You go that way, I guarantee you won't last ten minutes. I'd hate to see you blown up. I want to see the fear in your eyes when I bleed you like a hog."

The man was insane. That's all there was too it. I took off running to the left, the opposite direction of Steve. I wasn't a hundred yards out when I heard the air-horn behind me. Five minutes.

It was agony, running through the wood naked and barefoot. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew that with just five minutes I had to put distance between myself and the crowd behind me. I had a stitch in my side, and could barely breathe by the time I heard the air-horn that told me they were on their way.

~ * ~ * ~

I don't know how long I ran, then jogged, then stumbled through the dense woods. It was cold, and I was trembling from exhaustion and the temperature. It seemed like forever, but all I could do was keep moving forward. I'd heard the wife's siren go off once, distant, so I knew that at least one hour had passed. I was heading toward what I thought was a ridge or hill. I thought that maybe if I could get to the top, I could see where I was, perhaps find some kind of trail or road. Something, anything.

Then I heard the first gunshot off to my right, quickly echoed by two more. It was followed by a high-pitched scream. Moments later that damned air-horn blasted away.

Shit. Four of us. Four of them. I instinctively turned more toward my left, away from the gunshot. For a while I could run a little faster. For a while.

My mouth was parched, and I was walking, the best I could manage. Whenever I could I'd jog a few more steps before walking again. I wished I had taken up running at some time. Too late now. My feet were agony, surpassing the pain of the injuries I'd sustained during my brief interrogation. I ached all over.

The whore's siren went off while I was struggling to keep my distance from my pursuers. I noticed it was a little louder.

I was praying, to Jesus, God, Buddha, Mohammed, anyone who might help me. I wasn't a church going guy, but I figured it couldn't hurt at this point. Another gunshot rang out, far away. It seemed to come from behind me and to my left. I shied right, picking up the pace, stumbling when the air-horn went off.

I'd only made it maybe fifty more yards, when I heard the blast of a rifle nearby. I could hear the bullet hit a tree trunk only a couple of feet away. I turned right, away from the noise and sprinted the best I could, for as long as I could stand it. I heard laughter behind me. Laughter I recognized. His laughter.

Twice more I heard the wife's siren. Twice more I heard the gunshots in the distance. Twice more I heard the screams. Twice more the blast of the air-horns split the air. Four down. Only I remained. I had no idea how I'd managed to escape as long as I did.

The sun was still high in the sky. It couldn't have been much past noon. The four blasts of the wife's siren confirmed my estimates. My chances of surviving weren't looking good, not with four pursuers after me. I stumbled along, doing my best to keep moving, hoping that somehow I'd lost them.

A rustle from my left and voices had my stomach in my throat. I turned away from the sound, trying to move as quickly and quietly as I could. I skirted a section of denser growth and heard laughter far behind me and to the right. Shit.

I adjusted my path, hunched over, looking all around me, hoping to spot my pursuers before they spotted me. Then another gunshot rang out, all too close.

"Having fun?" a voice rang out from my right, way too near for comfort.

I saw a break in the trees nearby and headed for it, skirting the edge of a small clearing, afraid to run through the middle of it. I was almost to the far side, when a series of gunshots cracked nearby, and the trees near me absorbed the impact, splinters of wood kicking free. They were all around me.

I dodged behind a tree, and heard more of the evil laugher. "Run, little piggy," I heard. "We're stopping for lunch. Next time I see you, I'm putting a bullet in your fat ass. Run."

I ran.

I was lost, hopelessly. I ran toward the setting sun, adjusting my path when I heard the wife's siren again. It had been a while since I'd heard the air-horn that I assumed meant they'd finished their lunch and were back after me. I was bleeding from a thousand little cuts and scrapes. My feet were hamburger. I was in agony, my mouth as dry as the desert.

They weren't even trying to be quiet, laughing and joking as they pursued me, their voices too close for comfort. I knew there were at least three of them, including him. I wondered if all four were back there, or if one was waiting ahead of me.

My heart was pounding in my chest, my legs quivering. I just wanted to lay down and die, but as each moment passed my hopes started to rise a little. The sun was low in the sky.

I knew they were toying with me, torturing me. Twice more I'd heard the whore's siren, each time a little closer. Giving me false hope. False though it might be, I clung to it. It was all I had.

I was bitter, angry, my fear slowly subsiding. It wasn't fair. It was just sex, goddammit! Nothing worth killing over. If that bitch hadn't teased me, I never would have touched her. She wanted it. It was obvious. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else. Some other poor asshole running for their life through these damn woods.

A gunshot rang out from the side, I turned away from it and stumbled downhill toward what looked like a depression. The voices from behind seemed louder, and I tried to speed up, stumbling, running through the brush, ignoring the pain, moving, always moving.

Then I saw her. Sabrina, moving slowly, walking, then taking a few tentative jogging steps before walking again. She wasn't naked, like the rest of us. She had on a shirt, pants and even shoes. She had some kind of vest strapped to her chest. She must have heard me. She turned, looking back my way, shrieked and took off at a jog. She'd only taken a few steps, when I heard her siren go off, making her stumble.

Hope and fear gave me new energy, and I headed straight for her. She was my chance. If I could just catch her, I'd be saved. It was cruel, but better her than me, right? This was all her fault anyway.

I was gaining on her, she could barely walk. I figured she'd probably been on the run at least ten hours by now. She kept looking back at me, before stumbling forward.

At any moment I expected a bullet to put an end to my chase. I knew they couldn't be far behind me. God had given me a second chance, bringing me to her, a minuscule chance out here in the dense woods, even with that damned siren.

I was only a few paces away when she started screaming at me. "No!" she shrieked. "I hate you. Hate you, bastard!"

She stumbled and I was on her. She fought me, but my own terror gave me strength I shouldn't have. I slapped her hard, then tugged at her pants while she cried. I pulled desperately and they broke free, sliding down her legs. Her over-sized shirt still covered her crotch, but it wouldn't get in my way.

I needed to fuck her. That was my one chance. My only chance.

She was still crying, kicking at me, while I grabbed my cock, yanking on it, hoping that I could get enough of a hard-on to enter her. I had to believe that hubby was a man of his word, that once I was fucking her, it would be her life on the line and not mine.

I forced her legs apart, and pushed her shirt up. And I knew it was over.

She was wearing a chastity belt. It was a heavy duty brutish thing, and I could see where her flesh had been rubbed raw from contact with the straps. I grabbed at it, and felt the thickness, the impossibility of breaking through it.

I looked up into her face, and she laughed. The bitch laughed at me. "You destroyed my life, you bastard. I'll see you in hell."

Laughter surrounded me, and I looked up to see the four camo clad men surrounding me. They all had rifles pointed my way.

Hubby grinned. "Was it worth it? Was it worth your life to fuck my wife, asshole?"

"Please," was all I managed before the weapons went off, and the impact of the projectiles blew me off of her, and into the darkness.

~ * ~ * ~

Obviously, they didn't kill me. If they had, how the hell would I have written my story?

The rubber bullets cracked my ribs and knocked me out. When I came to, I found out my ordeal wasn't over with. I was interrogated and punished. Severely and at length. Before they were done with me I'd told them everything, as honestly as I could. Lies on my part had been dealt with viciously. When they were done with me, I woke in my own bed, bones set, wounds stitched shut, in agony but alive. Alive.

When I was able to climb out of the bed, I found the letter they'd left for me.

Asshole.

It's over. Let it go. If one word of your little ordeal ever makes it out, I or my associates will finish it, and you will not come out so easy next time.

You made a huge mistake. Learn from it. And thank your lucky stars that I'm a kind and gentle man, and am willing to let bygones be bygones.

Or don't. It works for me either way.

~ * ~ * ~

I made it back to work eventually. They were all there. Nobody had been killed. All bore the scars of our adventure. I wondered if theirs were as bad as mine. I knew they hadn't escaped injury completely. All were missing their left pinky finger. I'd lost the pinky off each toe, and off both hands. One of my testicles was in a jar in my refrigerator when I opened it. I had scars all over my body, which would always remind me of the cost of a little pussy.

We didn't talk about it. Not a word. About a week after we were back, I was jumped by my four previous 'friends'. They beat the hell out of me, and put me in the hospital. For a while there it was touch and go; I was almost certain I was going to lose my other ball. The doctor had a lot of questions about my myriad injuries. Enough that I was visited by the police. I didn't tell them anything useful. I didn't dare.

My neighbors spent a lot of time outdoors. They would wave, and grin whenever they saw me. Sabrina was always laughing if her husband was around, but if she was alone, the looks she gave me were anything but friendly.

I wondered about the price she paid. I doubted she got off scot-free, not with a husband like hers. I knew one thing, all the evidence I had on her was gone. When I'd recovered from my ordeal, I'd gone looking for it, considering my options, and the possibility of contacting the police. There was a message where I'd stashed it, a simple letter, reminding me they could get to me at any time.

The message was reinforced about two weeks after my return, when I woke in the middle of the night, restrained in my bed. A masked man leaned over me. "Just a friendly reminder. You're our bitch, now. You live only because we allow it. Don't be stupid." He punched me in the gut so hard, I was afraid he was going to break my spine. While I was trying to catch my breath, the man put a pen knife in my hand, that same little swiss army knife I'd been given in the woods. Then he walked away, laughing.

It took me three months to sell my house, and move halfway across the country. Another four weeks to get a job paying about two-thirds what my old one did. I left no forwarding address and didn't let anyone know where I was going.

I'd been in my new apartment for about a week, when I woke up with a masked stranger leaning over me in my bed. "Smart move," he said. "But remember. You're still our bitch. We can find you anywhere. You live because we allow it." Then he was gone, leaving me in a puddle of my own urine.

I don't fuck married women anymore. To be honest, I haven't fucked any woman since then. Maybe I will someday, after the nightmares stop, and the scars heal a little better. Maybe.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~