by Sir Richard
Pete and I finished our lunch and buried the trash in a shallow hole. Then we headed back for the infrared line. I took cover just before the guard path. Pete sprinted down to the next set of infrared boxes and waved his hand through the beam in the next sector down. Then he ran back to roughly my position and slid into the underbrush.
It only took a few minutes and we heard them coming. One was complaining that it was probably a stupid tree branch again as they trotted past us. I let them get about three steps past us stood up and called out, "Freeze you mother f---ers!" One guy froze but the other swung around with the rifle still in his hands. A silenced pistol doesn't make much noise just a sort of "Pfhht". There were two of those sounds as Pete and I both fired. The stupid one dropped like a stone.
"Put your rifle down with the muzzle pointed forward," I instructed. When he'd complied I had him back away from both rifles and his dead pal. Then I told him to strip. He looked at me like I was crazy but when I pointed the pistol at him he quickly complied. Pete kept an eye on him as he began to strip the body of the dead companion.
When the smarter of the two was down to his boxers we cuffed him backwards to a tree. His socks and those of his dead buddy were stuffed his mouth, and his dead friend's belt made certain that he couldn't work the gag out. It wasn't a perfect long-term gag but we only needed him to stay quiet for a few minutes.
Pete and I dropped our BDU jackets and put on the guard's shirts. We debated wearing their jeans but decided it wasn't necessary. Tucking our reloaded pistols (I know we had only fired one shot each but why go into combat with less than a full load? It was the Boy Scouts that had taught us to "Be Prepared") into our belts and grabbing the hunting rifles we set off for the house. We checked the rifles as we walked.
It turned out to be an easy action. No one in the house appeared to have been looking out for the two guards. We walked right up to the door and walked in. Just inside the door was the monitoring station with a man on duty. He glanced up, realized that we weren't his buddies and made the mistake of reaching for an automatic on the table. I had the rifle in my hands and there wasn't time to drop it and grab the silenced pistol so I shot him with the rifle. It was loud in the confined space. In about a minute another man popped out of a room holding his pants with one hand and a pistol in his other. Pete took him out with his rifle.
We checked out the house quickly. There was an extensive office space with a computer, fax machine, laser printer and several file cabinets. There was a kitchen, a living or family room and a dining room. On the second floor, the rest of the rooms were bedrooms. One was large and well furnished, apparently Nicholas' and Victoria's. The others were smaller and less well furnished, apparently for use by the guards, including the one the man had come out of.
On the floor of that room was the woman whose breasts had been beaten that morning. She had been lashed to a heavy pole in an unusual and erotic position.
Her head was held to the pole with wraps of white rope that passed over her forehead, under the pole, through her mouth, then under the pole on the other side and back over her forehead. The rope had been wrapped around several times and pulled tight enough so that her forehead was tilted back and her jaw was pulled open and down towards her chest. The ropes had been cinched on each side of her head so that she was unable to move it at all.
Her wrists had been lashed to the pole so that her upper arms were straight out from her shoulders and then her forearms were 90 degrees up from her elbows to the pole where, as I said, the wrists were lashed. The rope holding her wrists wound around the pole and crisscrossed her wrists holding them firmly to the pole.
The woman's legs had been doubled with her ankles lashed to her upper thighs and tightly cinched. On her lower thigh several turns of rope had been fastened just above her knees. This led to a rope that pulled her knees up and out. The rope was tied off to the same pole well outside of her bound hands. This had the effect of rolling her hips up and spreading her legs so wide that her pussy was completely open. I could see fluids dripping from her groin and it was a good bet that the last man had been raping her when he heard my shot.
Despite the purple bruises on her breasts she was a very attractive woman. Her wide-open positioning was very inviting. I would have to remember this tie for use on Cathy.
S--t...where was Cathy? For a second I had forgotten her. I took all this in, in a minute. The woman had heard the shooting and looked terrified. "Don't worry. We will get you free in just a couple of minutes." Now I didn't know if the woman understood English but my tone of voice seemed to assure her and her eyes lost some of their fear. I ducked out of the room and helped Pete to check out the remaining rooms.
No sign of Cathy on either floor. We checked the basement, which contained a well-equipped bondage and sadism dungeon complete with a Saint Andrew's Cross, Pillory, examination table equipped with straps and stirrups, whipping bench, saw horse and a rack. Chains and pulleys hung from the beams but it was empty of either Cathy or other slaves.
Still searching both for Cathy and to ensure we had full control of the property we dashed over to the barn. There was space for several cars, pony girl buggies or sulkies and the living quarters for the slaves. There was room for twelve slaves but we found only the eight we had seen in the exercise yard and no sign of Cathy.
The living quarters were in what had once been horse stalls. Each stall had been reinforced with floor to ceiling steel bars bolted to heavy wood beams at the top and bottom and reinforced with cross bars about every three feet. Inside each stall there were two cots with a thin blanket and a bucket to serve as a toilet. Six of the women were in their stalls with a single cuff locked on one ankle and to a chain that ran to a ringbolt fastened to the floor in the center of the cell. They still wore the six-rivet gag and the bicycle lock on their labia rings but could move about in the stalls and lie of the bed or use the bucket.
The remaining two slaves were apparently being punished for some real or imagined transgression. One was mounted on a sort of a double-dildo pole that stretched from the floor up to a junction that then sent two poles up, one into her pussy and the other into her anus. She was wearing an arm binder that kept her arms crossed behind her back. In addition she had the six-rivet gag and the rings in her nipples and labia but the bicycle lock had been removed. Wires ran from a box to the pole. The woman was on tiptoe and as her legs cramped she came down slightly. Immediately there was a crackle of electricity and a burned flesh smell mixed with a sort of ozone smell and the slave jerked back to her toes.
The last woman was hanging from a spreader bar several inches off the ground. Red stripes over both her front and back showed that she had recently and repeatedly been whipped. In some spots where the welts crossed one another there was fresh blood. This woman looked to be unconscious and made no movement whatsoever.
"Do any of you speak English?" I asked. Of course they were all gagged and made no response. I was becoming frantic with worry for Cathy.
"Pete," I commanded, "see if you can locate some keys and get these women unchained and ungagged. Take them into the living room in the house. I will get these two down and then go back and pick up the guard we left in the woods. He may know something."
Suiting action to words I pulled out the electric wires from the impaled woman and she sank down onto the soles of her feet. I put my hands on her waist and lifted her off the pole. The arm binder had been laced on her but wasn't locked so I cut the laces. I saw that Pete had keys and was working to free the women so I made motions at the gag and pushed the woman over in Pete's direction.
I untied the rope holding the suspended woman and lowered her as gently as possible towards the ground. She just collapsed in sort of a heap. I straightened her out on the floor and undid the wrist bindings that had held her. Two of the women Pete had set free came over and began cleaning her wounds with water from a hose and some rags from a shelf. Seeing that she was in good hands and that the women seemed willing enough to follow Pete's directions I left the barn and headed back to the woods.
By this time I was getting very concerned. There was no sign of Cathy and it didn't appear that there was any place to hide a slave as the rest had been kept pretty much out in the open. I found our prisoner where we had left him. I drew my pistol and reminded him that my bullets traveled a lot faster than he could run. He was white-faced and shaking. I undid his cuffs and re-cuffed him with his hands in front. Then I had him pick up his dead partner. I grabbed our BDU jackets and we headed back to the house.
By the time I got there Pete had the women in the living area. I had the
prisoner dump the dead body near the other two and turned as Pete said, "Mike,
one of them says that there is a woman called Sophia who speaks English but
they don't know where she is."
I remembered the woman bound upstairs and told Pete to bring his K-bar.
I prodded the prisoner up the stairs in front of me as I didn't want to take
the time to secure him. I was a little embarrassed at having forgotten to
free the woman before I went for the guard. I pushed the prisoner into the
room and seated him in the bed.
Pete came in just after me and looked at the woman. He said, "Wow!"
I glanced down at her and saw that despite the bruises on her breasts, the semen leaking from her groin, and her generally disheveled state, she was a very lovely woman. I told Pete, "You can admire her later. Cut her loose while I question this piece of s--t."
"Where's Cathy?" I demanded.
"Who?" was his response.
"Come on buddy. I know she was here earlier in the day. Linda had her in a leather straight jacket and a leash fastened to her clitoris. Don't try to tell me you didn't see her."
"Oh, you mean Linda's slave slut," he said. His face showed relief at being able to identify who I was asking about so I restrained my impulse to smack him for bad-mouthing Cathy.
"Yeah, Linda's slave. Where is she?"
"I don't know. They took her with them when they left."
"We only saw three people in that car," I said raising my pistol.
"She was in the trunk all tied up in a little ball. But I don't know where they are. Linda has a place near here but I don't know where it is."
This was bad news. If he was telling the truth, and we would soon find out, we would have to wait until Nicholas and/or Victoria came back. If they went to San Francisco first and discovered Jerry locked in the cell in the basement, or if they called here to check on things, they might never come back. Without the tax bill description we couldn't trace Linda the same way we had found this place. It could take days to find her and by that time they would almost certainly know that this place had been raided. If Linda was on the run she might kill Cathy so she could move faster.
My ruminations were interrupted by Pete who said, "I am going to have nightmares doubting my sexual orientation. Here is this really gorgeous woman spread out in an inviting manner and I am cutting her loose without even molesting her." He had cut both knees loose and was working on her foot as he said this. He unfolded her foot from her thigh and the woman groaned in pain. Pete yanked back his hands as if he had touched the hot barrel of a recently fired SAW (squad automatic weapon or light machine gun).
"For crying out loud Pete. Her leg is cramped. Rub it out for her."
"I can't do that. It's kind of intimate, sir." Apparently we had dropped our cover and we were back to sir.
"Gunny, this woman has been on display, heavily bound and nude for days, whipped at least twice that we know of and has a cramp in her leg. Now do you think she is going to blush and demand you get your hand off her leg or she is going to thank you for rubbing out the cramp?"
Sensitive gunnery sergeants, what was the Corps coming to? I tuned back to the prisoner and pushed at him two or three more times but got nothing more despite his obvious fear. I looked back at the woman on the floor. Pete was massaging her leg...very gently...the same leg. "Do you think we could move on and get this woman free?" I inquired politely with only a bit of mild sarcasm.
Pete jumped as though he had been hit by electricity. Apparently he had been lost in stroking that soft well-shaped thigh. She was attractive. He picked up his knife and went after the ropes on her hands and head, leaving the other leg doubled up. I was a bit bemused as he had never been shy or nervous around women.
I took the guard down to the basement and chained him to a ring in the wall with his hands still cuffed in front of him. Then I grabbed a bottle of water and headed back upstairs. I got to the room as Pete was massaging the other leg. I handed the woman the water and asked if she was the Sophia who spoke English.
She smiled at me and assured me she was. Her English was surprisingly good and as we talked I learned that she was a doctor and had studied at Johns Hopkins some time ago. She had a good command of vocabulary and her accent was very slight though she would occasionally leave out a word or two that an English-speaking native would use. Combined with her deep rich tones it was a very charming sort of voice.
All of that was noted in passing. At one point she turned to Pete who was still rubbing her thigh and said, "I don't think you are going to have any doubts about your sexual orientation sergeant."
"Gunnery Sergeant," we both blurted out. She laughed with a musical tinkle that was astonishing to hear from that battered body. Clearly this woman's spirit had not been broken. The next thing she said took my breath away.
"I think I know where bitch Linda's place is."
"I can't describe and I am bad with map but I think I can show you. She took me there to use and abuse me several times and didn't bother to blindfold me. After all I was only her slave." This last was said with some bitterness which given the circumstances was understandable.
She walked over to what must have been the guard's closet and took out a long-sleeved cotton shirt. She had some trouble closing it over her breasts, both because she had large breasts and because they were bruised and tender. The rings in her nipples were visible through the shirt. When she'd finished dressing the shirt hung just below her ass and made her look very sexy. She ran her hands through her hair raising the hem and exposing herself.
"Pete, go get the car. Sophia will tell the women where we are going and to keep an eye on things here. They can have the guard's handguns. We will take the rifles with us."
We went downstairs and there were hugs and tearful reunions between Sophia and the other women. Sophia filled them in and found two who knew how to handle pistols.
We climbed into the car and started for the gate. Pete was driving with Sophia in the passenger seat giving directions.
As we reached the gate Sophia asked, "Why is Pete Gunny? I thought gunny was sack."
I explained that `gunny' was a short term for gunnery sergeant and that was his rank in the Corps. Then I asked how far Linda's place was. Sophia responded "Not far, perhaps eight kilo meters." The way she said kilometer made it into two words, which I guess is what it once was. Then, with that same amazing ability to change topics without a pause that I had observed in Cathy, she continued, "Then why you not call him sergeant?"
This led us into a long discussion of ranks, how hard it was to advance in the Marines and how we recognized each level earned as being worthy of having its title used. Thus, unlike the army, the various grades of sergeant were not called simply sergeant but sergeant, staff sergeant, gunnery sergeant and master sergeant. Yeah I know there are also first sergeant and master gunnery sergeant but we didn't get into all that.
As we approached Linda's, Sophia asked, "Is that man you chain in cellar important for you?"
I began to have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. "No, he is not important but you didn't tell the women to do anything to him, did you?"
"I no tell women anything. They take care of him."
I was about to inquire further when Sophia said, "That is driveway. Is private road maybe six hundred meters."
Remembering the infrared sensors at the place we had just come from I instructed Pete to drive past and find some sort of off-road parking. I didn't really want to be seen as we were still in our BDUs with camouflage paint and Sophia was, to say the very least, dressed unusually. On the positive side we hadn't seen anyone else on these dirt tracks.
The three of us slipped out of the car and into the brush. I wanted Sophia to stay put but she was having none of it. She did agree to let Pete smear the paint on her face and hands and to put on a pair of the civilian trousers we had left in the trunk to hide her legs.
We slid closer to the house walking slowly and softly with Sophia apparently not bothered by bare feet in the brush. She was one tough lady. When we caught a glimpse of the building we dropped to our bellies and crawled forward. Pete took the lead with Sophia following. It was some experience watching Sophia wiggle forward. She certainly had an attractive ass.
We got near enough to see Linda masturbating Cathy rather viciously as she pulled her around the corner of the house. Cathy was gagged and still in the leather straight jacket. Their car was parked in front of the large single story house. Then Nicholas appeared from the woods along the driveway unwinding what looked to be electric wires as he moved back. He continued to unwind them as he stepped back into the house. He had what appeared to be a short automatic weapon, possibly an Israeli Uzi slung on his shoulder.
I told Pete with hand signals to stay and observe and made my way through the woods toward the driveway. As I left I glanced back and saw Pete's arm over Sophia's shoulders holding her both close to him and to the ground. Well, she might not have understood military hand signals; it was probably a good idea.
When I got to the driveway I worked slowly toward the opening where Nicholas had appeared. About three yards from the clearing I found what I expected. Two Claymore mines had been planted on either side of the road slanted up slightly so their deadly charge of steel pellets would tear through an approaching car from both sides.
I worked my way back to Pete and Sophia and indicated that we should head back to the car. Sophia started to get up but Pete lunged at and over her pinning her to the ground. I didn't hear any protest from either of them although Sophia's face went red as she realized how she had nearly given away our presence.
In any case we got back to the car and I told them that it was obvious that something had alerted them. Possibly they had tried to call back to the slave camp and gotten no answer. The Uzi was evidence enough but the Claymores were proof positive that they expected unwanted visitors. With them in the house, holding Cathy as hostage, and us without knowledge of what defenses they had an assault would be too risky.
Pete and I discussed the options quietly. What we really needed was to grab one of them and get them to tell us what was inside. Sophia said she could draw the basic layout of the house and basement but couldn't help us on weapons or defenses. Then I had an idea. "When you were there did they have a well-stocked pantry? How was their refrigerator?"
Pete caught on right away. "They will have to go into town to buy food. Even if they had siege supplies stored for an emergency I can't see them trying to live on MREs."
"Let's get the car into an intercept position."
We drove to the entry and stopped just far enough away so that our car wouldn't be seen from the driveway. We positioned it so that the empty passenger side of the car would be hit by a car rushing down the driveway. I left Pete in the driver's seat and took Sophia with me to a position where, with the hunting rifle, I could cut off any retreat if the driver managed to stop before colliding.
It took about two hours during which Sophia sketched a basic layout of the house and we talked quietly. She was very interested in Pete and his history. I answered her as best I could though I had only known him for a few weeks.
She also filled me in on how she'd been kidnapped and transported to this country in a shipping container with slave quarters in the front and a short load hiding the women from any inspectors who might randomly examine the container.
As she talked I learned that our buddy Linda was in this up to her pretty little neck. Apparently she had some sort of import business established at her estate in the Virginia countryside. The containers were delivered into a garage on her property and she and her goons unloaded the short load and then the women. After a few days in the cells in her basement the women were mummified, sedated and shipped to the west coast in coffin-like crates.
Sophia wasn't too clear on the exact method of shipment but airfreight seemed probable. She saw the crates when she and the others were strapped into them but then she was sedated and couldn't remember much about the trip until she was un-crated at the slave camp.
Eventually we heard a car approaching. I used our radio to alert Pete. Things moved pretty fast after that. The car came into view with Nicholas driving. Pete ran our car across the end of the driveway and Nicholas hit his brakes. It didn't look like he would be able to stop in time but he tried to turn around the blocking car. He skidded on the dirt road, overcorrected the steering wheel and slid off the road into a tree. Pete was out of our car with his pistol as I came up behind with the hunting rifle, after telling Sophia to stay put.
Nicholas was stunned by the impact and didn't even try for the Uzi that had been on the seat beside him and was now on the floor under the dashboard. I pulled open the passenger door and recovered the Uzi. I put the safety on and handed it back to Sophia who, as I had half expected, ignored my orders and came up behind me. I also put the safety on the rifle and handed that back to her. Then I drew my pistol and covered Nicholas while Pete opened the driver's door and handcuffed him with his hands behind his back.
We tried to restart Nicholas' car as we didn't want to leave transportation for the women should they come to investigate, but it was no go. I opened the hood and pulled out the spark plug harness. Then we loaded Nicholas into the middle of the rear seat of our car and Sophia drove us back to the slave camp. Nicholas confirmed that he had been going into town for groceries but refused to say anything about the defenses or armaments in the house. Pete and I worked him over as well as we could in the crowded back seat but he was pretty tough and refused to talk.
When we got back the women were in the kitchen preparing a meal. They all looked very busy. Sophia said in a sarcastic tone, "Perhaps you should take Master Nicholas to the basement." Pete and I took him downstairs and looked at what the women had done to the guard we'd left there. I don't know if it was what made Nicholas decide to talk but the sight that met us certainly turned my stomach.
The women had found the tools that had been used to ring them and used them on the hapless guard. They had not been gentle with him. A rope had been used to hold his handcuffed hands out of the way. His underwear had been pulled down. He had six rings through his penis running down the center from near its base to near the glans. There were and two more through his testicles. Not just through the scrotum, through the testicles. I guess the eight rings signified one for each of the women.
Someone had found a hammer and they had broken the bones in his feet, his shins and his knees. Then they had hammered out all of his teeth breaking his jaw in the process. Then, as the bruises made obvious, they had gone to work with the hammer on his ribs. Eventually one or more of his broken ribs had penetrated his lungs and he had drowned in his own blood. It would have been much kinder to shoot him.
While my stomach was turned I couldn't really blame the women. They had been kidnapped, tortured to break their spirits, raped repeatedly and enslaved. In any case after seeing what the women had done to the guard Nicholas was very willing to talk. I left Pete in the basement asking questions and went back upstairs looking for Sophia. When I found her I said, "You knew, didn't you?"
She looked me in the eye and said, "No, I not know. I suspected but I not know. I suspected because some of these women are just children. I suspected because they are all ripped from families and loved ones. I suspected because I knew what I would do to all of them, and damn their souls."
There wasn't a hint of sorrow or regret. I looked at her and thought about what she had said. Then I said the only thing I could, "What's for dinner?"
Sophia smiled and put her hand on my arm. She said, "Your Cathy is lucky woman. She has good man to love her."
Dinner was a strange meal. We needed to stoke up for the energy we would need later but the prospect of action kept us from really tasting the food. The women talked quietly among themselves and seemed to be asking Sophia some questions. Her responses didn't satisfy them. I asked what was going on but Sophia said, "They ask questions but I tell not good time now."
Nicholas was a fountain of information. The house was, as we suspected, ringed with infrared beams. Nicholas had the only Uzi but the house was a genuine hunting lodge well equipped with both rifles and shotguns. In addition both women had automatic pistols. The two Claymores we had seen were the only explosives.
There were no exterior floodlights although there was a normal incandescent door light on either side of the front door. The front door was a double door set flush to the ground (with a threshold of course) so it would be susceptible to a car used as a battering ram once we disabled the Claymores. That was if we wanted to assault by force. I wasn't certain this would be a good idea with Cathy inside.
Nicholas couldn't be positive where we would find Cathy but the normal practice was to lock slaves in the root cellar. A normal shopping trip would take about two hours so the women would start suspecting something was wrong in about another 45 minutes or so.
We checked out our equipment including the night vision goggles. I had decided that stealth and cover of night would serve us better than frontal assault. Pete and I discussed bringing Sophia so that we would have close up medical support. The danger, of course was that she would ignore instructions and move into the line of fire or even give the enemy a second hostage. In the end we decided to leave her at the slave camp to begin searching the office space and categorizing the information that was there. It was an important job that would put her intelligence and language skills to good use but I think most of the decision had to do with her personal safety.
We chained Nicholas, still in handcuffs, in one of the stall cells in
the barn. We dumped the four guard's dead bodies in the cell next to him
with the mutilated body on top to remind him of what the women could and probably
would do if he tried to escape. He was very frightened, and frankly I didn't
blame him. Using Sophia as an interpreter I told the women that the death
of the guard had not been a big deal but that we needed Nicholas alive so
we could round up the entire kidnapping ring. Then we told Sophia she was
to keep the prisoner safe. She didn't much like it but she understood what
We moved in short runs to the side of the house and made another quick circuit. Using Sophia's layouts we located the third (read smallest) bedroom window that was the room least likely, in our opinion, to be occupied. The window locks yielded silently to the blade of my K-bar and we slid the sash up. The room was dark but the door was open with light leaking back down the hall from the lounge area. We pulled ourselves up and into the room.
As we paused at the door we could hear the women talking. Victoria was saying that Nicholas ought to be back by now and Linda was telling her that he had probably stopped to gas up and not to worry. There was a strange keening sound punctuated occasionally by the sound of a crop striking flesh and I realized that they must have been tormenting Cathy. I looked at Pete and he gave me a nod indicating that he was good to go.
We took opposite sides of the hallway and moved quietly forward. When we reached the end we paused while we checked out the main room. Both women were facing away from us and looking at poor Cathy. Cathy was nude with the leather straight jacket lying on the floor near her. She was bound in a very tight hog-tie and suspended from a hook in an overhead beam. I could see that the position was putting tremendous strain on her shoulders.
From her pussy, probably from the clit ring, dangled a short chain with a heavy weight at the end. Linda was toying with the weight with her riding crop. She would lift the weight on the end of her crop relieving the pull on Cathy's clit ring. Then she would let it slide off the crop and fall with a painful jerk as the chain reached its limit. Sometimes she would vary the motion by running the crop down along the chain and pushing the weight down,
Victoria was standing next to her using a whippy cane to slash at Cathy's breasts which bore a plethora of welts and bright red stripes. That was what was producing the sound of flesh being struck.
Pete and I stepped into the room. I slashed at Linda's head with my pistol. It hit with a solid clunk and she dropped to the floor. Victoria turned at the sound and her eyes grew wide and fearful as she took in two armed men in BDUs with camouflage paint over their faces and night vision goggles on the top of their heads. Not giving her time to react Pete pushed his pistol into his belt and grabbed her arms. The cane fell to the floor as he pulled her wrists behind her back. While he held her I snapped on a pair of handcuffs.
As Pete forced Victoria to the floor I used a second set of cuffs on Linda. Pete tossed me a third set of cuffs (we had been carrying two sets each) and I cuffed one of Linda's ankles, ran the chain through the chain connecting her hands and tightened the other cuff on her other ankle. Pete used his second set of cuffs to fasten Victoria into a similar hog tie. She was babbling something about how it was all Linda's fault and how Linda had `made' her hurt Cathy. Pete looked around for gags while I stood up and lifted Cathy.
Lifting her took some of the strain off her shoulders and hips and I was able to unsnap the chain that had held her to the beam. I lowered her to the floor, roughly pushing Linda out of the way with my boot. Once she was down I removed the weight from the chain. I wanted to unsnap the length of chain from her clit ring but it appeared that the chain was intended to be a permanent fixture and I couldn't see any way to remove it without tools. I unbuckled her ball gag and gently worked it out of her mouth.
Cathy was clearly in pain but she managed to smile at me and hoarsely croak something that sounded like, "Semper Fi".
I went to work with my K-bar on the tight ropes that had bound her wrists, elbows, ankles and knees and called to Pete "See if you can find some water for Cathy."
Pete came back with a bottle of some fancy yuppie water he'd retrieved from the kitchen and held it to Cathy's mouth while I massaged some life back into her arms and legs. Cathy drank some and said, "I knew you would come for me. I never lost faith in my master. Even when they were whipping me, I knew you would find me."
I wasn't sure I merited that kind of faith but I kept my mouth shut and just held her to me. Pete had gagged Victoria but Linda was moaning as she regained consciousness. "Gag that bitch as well," I said. Eventually I lifted Cathy onto a comfortable chair and with Pete at my side we searched the house.
We didn't find much. Most of Linda's business records must have been in her Virginia estate. We did find some telephone bills that might yield information to the Major's analysts and some records of numbered accounts in both Switzerland and the Cayman Islands. Apparently these were Linda's emergency funds in case she had to run and couldn't get to the records in her main base. These were good finds because the papers also spelled out the access codes required to have the banks transfer the funds.
We drove in our car, picking up the deactivated Claymores as we went.
We bundled up the telephone and bank records, along with any weapons we found,
and put it all on one side of the back seat of the car. We also took our
remaining gear out of the trunk and put it in the back seat. It was a tight
fit but we were eventually able to get the trunk closed with both Linda and
Victoria crammed into it. Cathy sat on the free side of the rear seat and
I rode up front with Pete driving. The ride back to the slave compound was
over those terrible dirt roads and I noticed that Pete's driving seemed to
deteriorate a bit as it seemed that the car bounced and jounced much more
than it had on the prior trips.
When we got back Sophia and the other women all came running out. I guess Sophia had told them that we had gone to rescue Cathy because they all began to applaud when she stepped out of the car. I went around to the rear and opened the trunk. As soon as they saw the cargo they became silent. One of the women cursed in some language I couldn't understand and another spat at the two women. One became bolder and grabbed Victoria by the hair. She pulled her from the trunk letting her fall heavily to the ground. I tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the barn and she began to drag Victoria in that direction. Another woman grabbed Linda and began to pull her along towards the barn.
When we got there the women ripped and cut the clothing from the prisoners. They were about to beat them but I stopped them and chained each woman, still hog-tied and gagged into a stall cell.
Nicholas had become a bit bolder. He tried to offer a bribe for freedom
for himself and Victoria. He talked of millions in offshore banks that he
could wire transfer to us. He also pointed out that if we turned him over
to the authorities he would plea bargain his way out of jail time. Unfortunately
he was probably correct.
One of the women brandished the shears and looked at me in an inquiring way. I nodded and all eight of them rushed into his cell. Sophia stayed with Pete and me apparently thinking about what Nicholas had said. They stripped him naked in no time flat but I saw plenty of kidney punches and groping at his testicles as they did it.
Pete and Sophia had started back towards the house. I shooed the women out of the cells and they also started back towards the house. I shut Nicholas up with a gag and hobbled his legs by passing the chain through the links on his handcuffs. That wasn't as bad as the hog tie the women were in but it kept him pretty well bent over. One last check to make certain that there was nothing they could use to escape with and I turned out the lights, closed the barn door and headed back up to the house.
The ex-slave women were gathered around the dining room table with Sophia deep in discussion. I couldn't understand any of it but it sounded like they were speaking Russian. It made sense, I guess. During the cold war most of Eastern Europe had Russian as the common second language. These women might have been from several countries but they knew enough Russian to understand one another.
I joined Pete and Cathy in the living room after snagging a beer. Cathy, who was proving to be remarkably resilient, considering the amount of punishment she'd endured, slid over next to me on the sofa. I had a beer in one hand and my arm around Cathy my...my what?
She was certainly my girlfriend, certainly my sex partner, certainly my bondage playmate, but was she also my slave girl? I had seen a lot in the past few weeks including women who wanted to be pets 24/7 and women who had been forced into slavery. Cathy was a bright, funny intelligent person. If she became my slave would we lose that? I don't think I wanted to lose that part of her.
We were going to have to sit down and work our way through this together. I guess it wasn't that different with most couples. Each partner had to adjust to the other and their likes and desires; but somehow had to do it without losing themselves. I realized that this shifting ground was going to take some work as well as provide some pleasure. Oh well, "Tomorrow is another day" as Scarlet O'Hara said in the movie. (Come on, no matter how young you are you have to have seen Gone With The Wind at least once.)
I was getting my mind out of relationship problems and back into a nice relaxed happy mode when Sophia came into the room with the eight women. She was their spokesperson by virtue of being the only English speaker. "I tell the women that slavers can plea bargain and escape punishment," she began.
I knew she was correct. The Major would happily let these three go, perhaps after confiscating some assets, if he could get them to help roll up both the kidnapping connections and to point out who their customers had been.
"They want punish them."
It was quite clear who the "they" and who the "them" were. Well perhaps it wouldn't be too bad and I could let them get away with some fun, before turning them over.
"What do they want to do?" I asked hoping that they just wanted to whip the slavers or something like that.
Sophia looked at me and said, "This not my idea but I promise to ask you. These women hurt many time, very angry. To women they want cut off breasts and clitoris. To man they want cut off testicles and penis. Then for both they want cut off tongue and nose. Also they want to break bones in feet and hands."
I looked at Pete then back at Sophia and said, "Tell them I will think about this overnight and we will talk in the morning." I knew I couldn't allow that sort of torture but hoped that the women would have calmed down and been a bit less bloodthirsty after a night of freedom. I think Sophia understood the answer was no, but she did what I asked.
Man, this being the officer in charge wasn't all it was cracked up to be. I knew what I was supposed to do: turn them over to the Major. But I knew if that happened their money and their information would get them off, no matter how heinous their crimes had been. On the other hand the women had a right to see justice done - not with the mutilations they had asked for, but with some sort of real justice; not what the system and the Major would consider justice.
Well great! I'd put off a decision until tomorrow but I still didn't know
how to deal with it. And if that wasn't enough Pete had a whole new set
of problems for me. Sophia came back in and sat on the floor next to Pete.
She reached her hand up and grasped his. I saw her squeeze slightly to
"Sir?" he began tentatively.
Now Pete was not a tentative sort of guy. I understood just from the way he broached this that there was going to be a problem. "What's up Pete?
"Sophia and I would like her to stay here."
I was puzzled. "Here at the compound?" I asked.
"No sir. Here in the states."
Oh! Now I got it. She had been smuggled into the States in a box with no papers and no visa and as soon as INS got hold of her, she and the other women would be on their way back to the various eastern European countries from where they'd been kidnapped.
"And you want me to find a way to make it happen?"
"Well sir, you're the officer."
Nice touch Gunny. Remind me that I am responsible for the well-being of my troops; and that Sophia was an important, if ex-officio part of the rescue of my Cathy.
"Not just me sir...some others want to stay," chimed in Sophia.
Damn, now Pete had even her calling me sir. I was pretty damn sure she didn't regard me as her master so this was more, `You are the boss, and you get the problems to fix.'
"I'll try to think of something. Tomorrow I want to go through the records and files here to see what we have. Then I'm going to have to report to both the Major and to Tom."
"Pete, you have the interesting and perhaps challenging task of cutting and removing labia and nipple rings. I think you can use the bolt cutters to cut them once then use two pairs of pliers to twist the ends apart and then gently turn the ring until it comes out of the hole. Do Sophia first so she can tell you what hurts and what is OK. Then have her explain to the other women before you touch them."
"Sir, what if they want to retain the rings?"
I smiled and said, "It's OK with me and you may get some takers for the nipple rings. I suspect they feel different about the labia rings after having toted those bicycle locks around, but, as you say, it ought to be up to each woman."
I thought I had enough to deal with but my cell phone rang. It was Tom and apparently the Major was upset that we'd spent an entire day out of touch. He'd called the Commandant to complain and the general had asked Tom to contact us. I told Tom that we had quite a bit of good news but that there were still a lot of loose ends to wrap up. I asked him to tell the Major that his funds were still secure and that we would get to him at some point the following day.
Tom said he understood what to pass on to the Major but wanted to know what to tell the Commandant. I told him to tell him that I was confident that we would prevail but were working on how to achieve victory with honor and that given the sort of person the Major was I might have to use unconventional tactics. I could almost hear Tom smiling over the telephone. He said he understood and asked if there was anything he could do to help. I told him he was better off not getting into the details of the problems as whatever path I chose could prove to be uncomfortable.
I asked how Sally was doing. He told me she had some morning sickness
but was generally handling things well and that her pregnancy didn't show
yet. He asked about Cathy and I told him that she'd had some adventures but
that she was fine now. I also said that we were about to go to bed at the
end of a very long day. He laughed and said he would tell the Commandant
that I had my priorities straight and that I would be reporting in the next
day or so.
At least I didn't have to worry about the sleeping arrangements. They
sorted themselves out rapidly. Cathy and I had the master bedroom (where
else would a master and his little sub slave sleep). Pete was taking the
guest bedroom, where Linda had slept and was sharing the bed with, surprise,
surprise, Sophia. The eight other women paired off and each couple shared
one of the former guard's rooms. They all had queen-sized beds, apparently
to allow a guard adequate room to sleep if he happened to bring a bound slave
to bed for a little casual rape. In any case a shared queen-sized bed was
palatial after the stalls where they had been sleeping.
There was a dicey moment when one of the other slave women slid up to Pete's side in an obviously suggestive manner. I told you he was a babe magnet. The issue was resolved when Sophia grabbed the other woman's hair and said something softly in her ear. I don't hear what Sophia said and probably wouldn't have understood it if I had, but the other woman blanched and moved away quite quickly. Poor Pete, I don't know if he realized it or not but I think his days of sleeping around were numbered. I think Sophia had chosen him and there was no doubt that she was as formidable and she was sexy and attractive.
I took Cathy to bed. She was sore and bruised but wanted to be tied and loved. I asked her if she didn't want a night off after all she had been through but she said, "I need to feel you master me more than ever. That's the only way I will feel free."
Now I know it sounds paradoxical but I have never been dumb enough to try to understand women. I was clearly a Mars type and accepted that women ran in different orbits. I thought of refusing to bind Cathy as punishment for asking to be bound - after all it wasn't my sweet slave's decision, it was mine.
I say I thought of it but who was I kidding? First she wasn't topping from the bottom, she was letting me know her needs so that I could decide if and how to meet them. This was a good thing and something I wanted to encourage. I didn't want to see the woman I loved shrink into a shell and become a perpetually subservient slave with no opinions and no personality.
Second she deserved to have what she wanted after what she had been through. Although her kidnapping wasn't my fault, I did feel that I had failed to protect my `property' as she had become. I don't think I could have anticipated Linda acting as she had but there was a nagging doubt that I had let something bad happen to the woman I loved and for whose well-being I had taken responsibility.
Who am I kidding? Most importantly, the thought of Cathy tied in my ropes, writhing exotically under me, begging for release was just too enticing to resist. I would have been willing to back off and just cuddle for a night or two until she had an opportunity to recover. If she wanted loving bondage and sex, however, I certainly wasn't going to punish myself by refusing.
It was kind of romantic. I tied her securely using cuffs that I found in the bedroom closet so that ropes wouldn't chafe her wrists. Her lovely nipples hardened and her smile was marvelous to behold. I used my hands and mouth to reacquaint myself with her body before I entered her. At one point I was very gently licking her more than usually sensitive clitoris and said something about getting this ring off tomorrow. She surprised me by asking if we could think about that.
I asked her if she liked it and she said, "I would never have done this to myself but it does make me horny and I don't really know if I want to take it off. Do you think its sexy master?"
Now there is a question I'd never pondered. Cathy was sexy without the ring and she was sexy with the ring. I'd thought of it as something Linda had done to force control of Cathy and to hurt Cathy. In that context I wanted to get rid of it. On the other hand a perpetually horny Cathy who wasn't bothered by wearing the ring was an appealing idea. I would have to give that some thought but yeah it was sexy.
I told Cathy that if we kept it I was going to buy a chastity belt I'd seen on the web. It was metal and lined with soft rubber for long-term use. It had an opening in the rear to allow for defecation but had sharp metal points around the opening that would tear up anyone or anything trying to enter. In the front it was slightly convex so that any pushing would just press the flesh to the side of the pussy and clitoris. The front section had a slit for urination but it was too narrow to allow access to the pussy. The slit ended below the clitoris so that lovely little nub was completely covered by the convex shield of metal.
I explained that I thought we might be able to thread the chain through the slit so that when she went to class the chain would arouse her but the belt would prevent her from being able to get any relief. Perhaps I would keep her horny and unsatisfied for months at a time. She smiled lustily both from the work I had been doing with my tongue and at the idea. Cathy knew damn well that while I might keep her in a chastity belt while I was deployed with the Corps, when I was back home I would never be able to resist her charms for long periods of time. My description had aroused me enough to bring me to full and throbbing erection and I was about to enter her when there was a knock on the door.
We were interrupted by a red-faced Pete who was rapping on our closed bedroom door. I left Cathy on display in all her naked splendor and opened the door. Pete was obviously embarrassed but asked if we had extra cuffs. Apparently he was going to tie Sophia to the bed and had only two cuffs which he had, rather foolishly, used for her ankles. I mentioned that two cuffs might have been enough if he'd thought ahead and secured her wrists first, but found another pair of cuffs. I cut him off as he was explaining his need for them and I told him that his graphic explanation was way more information than I wanted or needed to know. The poor man damn near saluted as he left even though he was in his boxers and I was both nude and rampant.
I turned back to Cathy and we both burst into laughter that we tried to suppress to avoid further embarrassing poor Pete. I think Pete had a tiger by the tail and was being carried along for the ride. Still Sophia was quite a woman, as she had shown us several times. If she was sending him out to find cuffs tonight I was going to have to have a heart to heart to talk with him about the relative positions of the Dom and the sub. I was sure he would grasp the basics quickly. All in all, both Cathy and I thought that Pete was a lucky guy.
It took us a while to get back into the mood but I enjoyed every minute of kissing and stroking her body. I guess I was still worried about the treatment Cathy had endured and I was a bit too soft and gentle.
At one point she told me, "I won't break if you hold me tighter, master." What a remarkable woman. I knew her body must have ached from the treatment she had been through and that her poor clitoris was certainly overly sensitive. Still, she wanted to please her master and give me the joy of dominating and having her.
While I was thinking about how lucky I was she asked me about nipple rings. Sophia and the other women had been ringed as had the waitresses at Jerry's S&M club. She thought they looked nice and asked if I wanted her to have a pair.
I told her that this was all going too fast for me and that we had to have a long talk about the future. She told me that her future was to be my slave and to serve me. I told her about my earlier thoughts and how I wanted her to be my love slave but that I wanted all of her. I didn't want her to submerge her personality or her opinions to mine. If we disagreed we would talk it out. If we fought I would punish her but it would be with love. I explained that she would not be serving me if she didn't express herself. I loved her body, and I certainly loved having her in bondage and our sex games but I loved her more than physically and didn't want to lose the non-physical parts of her that were so important to me.
I probably didn't express myself all that clearly but Cathy, bright woman that she is, understood. Then she shifted topics and began begging me to take her and make her mine. It took very little time to work her back to a frenzy and I enjoyed every moment of that work. I slipped into her and we set up a slow sensuous and even romantic rhythm and both came together.
I am a big believer in afterplay being as important as foreplay so after we had satisfied our needs, I held her and stroked her. I told her how special she was and how precious she was to me. I thought I was being very nice and romantic but my sweet slave shifted into analytical mode and changed the subject on me. Oh well I had just told her not to submerge those other parts like her brains and her personality.
"What are you going to do to make sure those women who want to can stay here?" she asked. "They had lousy situations back home and we can't just let the government ship them back."
It was a good question and I had a glimmering of an idea. I shared my thoughts with Cathy and apparently she liked them because she kissed my shoulder (the only part her lips could reach bound as she was) and slipped back into sub mode saying, "I knew my master would figure out a way to make it right."
Of course her kiss wasn't very satisfying so I rolled back over her to get a better one. As I lowered my mouth to hers I could feel the hard little nubs that were her nipples pressing into my chest. Her breasts had been badly whipped that afternoon. Now as an officer and gentleman I couldn't fail to check and see if her lovely nipples were hurting so I used my mouth and tongue to soothe them. Funny thing is that instead of being soothed they seemed to grow even harder and more turgid.
One thing led to another and soon her moans had me fully aroused and we made love again. I offered to let the ropes loose so she could sleep more comfortably as we cuddled and nuzzled each other. She asked me not to as she wanted to feel my ropes all night so that she knew she was safe and back with me.
Now I don't pretend to know why my ropes would feel any different from Linda's ropes or anyone else's ropes. Sure they were applied with love but that couldn't be felt through the ropes, could it? In any case I left the ropes in place and we both drifted off to a well-earned sleep.