by Jena Cryer
Her hand grabs my collar. She jerks back my neck. From the corner of my eye, I see something glinting in her right hand. A knife. It’s got to be a knife. She’s going to slit my throat. That’s the only possibility.
I close my eyes and suck in one last breath. At least this’ll be quicker than starvation.
Just as my body goes limp and I nearly wet myself from the fear of it all, I hear a snap and then the pressure on my throat is gone. I’m too startled to even catch myself as my face catapults back into the earth.
I spit out a mouthful of twigs and dried grass. Fury’s corded legs release me. Kneeling now, she lifts my chin from the ground with one hand while she dangles a long piece of leather in front of my face.
My collar.
It’s been a part of me for so long that my neck feels naked without it. I reach for the black pearl now swaying from its middle, but Fury snatches it out of my grasp with a growl. Her hands jerk me out of the dirt, and she flings me into the herd of women now clustered behind me.
I don’t know if this woman has claimed me for her own or if she’s just trying to make me accept my freedom. Either way, it doesn’t stop a cry from leaving my lips as she flings my collar and that beautiful black pearl far away into the forest.
I take a step to go find it, but tiny arms wrap around my waist. Flax’s face presses into the space between my shoulder blades. Her hands pull me to the ground, and I don’t realize I’m crying until she rolls me into her arms.
If I close my eyes I can almost imagine my master’s fingers are brushing away my tears instead of hers.
More women approach us.
Their hands touch me, but instead of probing, they’re all comforting. They sweep back my hair, rub my shoulders, pat my legs. I’m surrounded by a support group of women just as twisted as I am, and in the presence of their acceptance, I let go of any remaining inhibitions and cry myself sick.
Though the herd of women surrounding me must be at least twenty or more, there are only two I can focus on throughout this whole emotional ordeal. One is Flax. Her arms never leave me, and the quiet shushing she whispers into my ear is almost enough to lull me into sleep.
The other, though, is the wild Fury. The giant woman’s gaze never leaves me as she slips her wire cutters around her neck and stands watch. She’s their leader. There’s no questioning that. But I think…I think she might be something more also.
A protector, maybe?
Yes, the more I watch her, the more I feel confident that she won’t hurt me, and she won’t let me be hurt. There’s a familiar possessiveness to her gaze, and it comforts me almost as much as the steady crooning from Flax.
Chapter Seventeen
We march daily.
I keep expecting to run across some form of non-perverted civilization, but Fury keeps us far away from any towns. Not that I mind so much. After my near miss at the inn, I’ve become almost terrified of being around anyone other than the herd of women I’m now a part of.
Fury holds up a hand, and we all wait as she checks out the field we’ll cross next.
Flax’s hand slips into mine. I’ve spent almost a week with the herd now. I only wish I knew how long it’s been since I entered that monster’s shop in Florence. I suppose it shouldn’t matter. Time is meaningless for a creature like me. Still, it would be nice to know how long my family has been missing me. Surely they’ve accepted me as dead by now. Momma always was a practical person. She has to know I’m never coming home.
But maybe…
I nibble on my bottom lip. Even after all this time, I still can’t let go of the hope of returning home. I am free after all. Maybe I can break away from Fury’s little harem and strike out on my own. Surely this perversion can’t go on forever. There has to be someone left in this world who’s willing to help me.
Flax nuzzles my shoulder. She really is a sweet girl. I caress her back, and as soon as Fury beckons us forward, we follow the herd onward.
The air smells clearer, almost moist as we bed down that night. As always, I stick to the outskirts of the group.
Night falls. A symphony of moans and gasps fill the evening air. In the moonlight, women’s bodies writhe together. No one sleeps apart in the herd—no one but me. Each woman is just another link in a long chain of pleasure, but like every night before this one, I force myself to stay apart.
I’m a free woman. I have to show restraint. I didn’t run away from my master just to become the slave of a dark-haired mistress.
But still…
Their lust is like a siren’s call, and it’s all I can do to push Flax’s hands away when she tries to pull me towards them. It’s Fury who leads Flax away in the end. She won’t let anyone badger me for long. I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse, but she seems to take pity on me. No way would she ever force me into doing something I’m not ready for.
An orgasmic cry fills the nigh, followed by a second, and then a third. I press my hands against my ears and curl into a ball.
Sometimes, I really hate free will.
***
My strength builds with each passing day. I slowly become more confident. I might not be the successful doctor my parents imagined, but I’m no longer a mindless animal either. I walk on two legs. I take care of my own needs. I even make some of my own decisions.
The freedom of it all should be enough to make me smile, but the more time I spend with the herd, the emptier I feel.
I want to go home.
I still don’t know if the home I’m thinking of is a little brick house in Texas, or if maybe it’s a rolling estate littered with scratching posts and chains. Either way, I want one of the two. I can’t spend the rest of my life roaming along the fringes of humanity. True freedom or true submission, that’s what I require, and as the days pass, I find myself searching once again for an escape from the women around me.
I think Fury realize what I’m thinking. That’s the only way to explain how close she keeps me.
Between the Amazon and Flax, I never have a minute’s peace. Someone is always there watching me, just waiting for me to break rank. I don’t know what will happen when I finally do. Maybe Fury will just let me go. Or maybe she’ll chase me down and break one of my legs.
Either way, I’m too scared to find out.
After several weeks of what seems like pointless roaming, I begin to sense a change in the air. Salt. If I open my mouth, I can almost taste the salt, just like when I used to visit the beach as a child.
My eyes fly open. Only Fury’s hand on my wrist keeps me from bolting. By the time the waves are finally close enough to hear, I can’t stop myself from whining as I shuffle from foot to foot.
The trees part, and a pebbly beach spreads out before us.
My heart pounds. Where are we? The Cinque Terre? I can’t believe we’ve walked all the way to the Italian Riviera, but that has to be the only explanation, right? I search the shore for some sign of the famous coastal towns I’ve read about, but the beaches are empty save for a single granite monolith rising up from the water’s edge.
Fury leads me toward it.
Seagulls caw above me. The surf pounds against the shore.
What are these women waiting for? Freedom has to be close by. We need to run. We need to—
Fury points up at a bronze plaque on the giant marble column. Foreign words cover it. Fury’s eyes are on me as I struggle to read what it says.
Isola di merce. Ile d’emprise. Isla de esclavo. Thrall Insel. Thrall Island.
Wait a minute. Island?
My gaze darts from the sign to the shore, and then to the one person I know would never lie to me. Fury.
I point to the crashing waves before making a quick circle in the sand. Is that it? Are we really on an island? Is that why she and her herd settled on a free-ranging lifestyle rather than endure the slavery of civilization?
She must understand me, because she nods slowly before leading me to the other side of the monument. Any remaining hope
leaves me as I stare up at the image emblazoned across it.
A long, irregular landmass juts above the loping curves of rumbling waves. In each corner, familiar reliefs fill the scene.
A collared woman crawls on all fours.
A bridled woman pulls a carriage.
Another kneels crying beneath a whip.
And in the last corner, gagged and bound, a final woman stares out of her carving with inhuman peace as her master rests his hand on her head.
I’m shaking so hard I can barely stand. At either side, Fury and Flax hold my hands as I gasp and sob. All hope is gone. There won’t be any salvation, no rescue. I’m trapped here on this island forever.
Flax’s palm strokes my face, and I crumple into her before I can even stop myself. I’ll never see my parents again. I’ll never see my home.
And worst of all, I’ll never see my Master.
By this time, I’ve long since given up hope of ever dispelling my feelings for him. I might have run away, but he still owns me, every last little bit, and as I sob against the little ginger’s shoulder, I cry not so much for the loss of my freedom, but rather the loss of my servitude.
I’ll never again know the vacant peace of that chiseled woman above me, and it was all my fault.
That night as I lay curled on the outer fringes of the group, I feel a gentle nudge at my back. Flax. Her touch is almost as familiar as my master’s by now, and I don’t stop her when she rolls me onto my back and lays her tiny head on my shoulder.
I’m nearly asleep when I feel her lips on me.
The moon is full and her eyes are round and questioning as she looked up at me. The tip of my breast still lays trapped between her lips, and as her tongue dances circles around my nipple, I gasp low and deep.
I don’t try to stop her.
My moans must draw their attention, because one by one, the rest of the herd creeps toward our enclave. Hands roam across my body. Another set of lips suckle my neglected breast. A tongue darts between the cleft of my pussy.
My moans grow low and hoarse.
A pair of strong hands traces my jaw, and when I look up, there is Fury. She sweeps aside my hair with a gentleness I never knew she possessed, and when she parts her legs, I bury my mouth in her cunt obediently.
Hearing the cry of her orgasm is even more exhilarating than feeling the pleasure of my own.
Dear God, this really is what I was meant for.
That night I lose every last bit of myself to the herd. Only once we’ve all had our fill, when our naked bodies lay twined together and only the faint nuzzling of exhausted lovers still disturbs the night, only then do I remember enough of myself to stop Flax as she leans across me to plant her lips on mine.
No. That’s just…no.
Her breath mingles with my own. A soft whimper leaves her lips, but she doesn’t press the matter any further. She must know this is one line I won’t allow myself to cross.
Fucking is just fucking. An overwhelming animalistic urge, that’s all. But kissing…
When I’d been Adair, I’d kissed a few boys, not many, and most of their pecks had seemed like an obligatory custom rather than an act of passion. But after I’d come to this island, after I’d felt Master’s lips on mine…
I know Flax just wants to please me, but how can I ever allow her lips to contaminate the memory of Master’s? He’s done so much to me, introduced me to a whole world of wonderfully terrible pleasures. Master never seemed concerned about fucking me in public, but when his lips touched mine, it was a private matter. Those kisses were ours and ours alone, and there was no way in hell I’d ever let anyone steal those memories from me.
So instead of giving my lips to Flax, I guide her head back to my bosom. She can suckle and caress me as much as she likes. My body is as good as hers. Only my lips and my heart belong to someone else, and as I feel her felt her mouth move to my breast, it’s his lips I imagine caressing my skin, not hers.
Chapter Eighteen
The sun is warm when I awaken. Fingers softly stroke my welcoming pussy.
How long has it been since that first night I opened myself up to her? I have no idea. I think summer was winding down when Fury first claimed me for her herd, but now the leaves are falling from the trees and only the sun’s warmth can save us from the coldness of the shadows.
Flax’s mouth traces a path up my neck. Even now as her teeth move up to nibble my ear, I still can’t help but think of Master. I know it’s a sin to lead on someone so sweet and pure, but I can’t help it. Her caresses are all I have left. I need her and the memories her touch can bring. No matter how guilty I feel, I know I’ll never be able to turn her away, but that doesn’t mean I can’t at least try to make it up to her.
Slowly, my fingers slide across her skin. She parts her legs for me and moans as I stroke her pussy over and over again. Her back arches. Her tiny breasts glisten in the morning sun, and just when I’m sure she can’t take my teasing even a second longer, I place my mouth on her soft little cunt and finish her off.
Her cries of ecstasy are almost enough to wash away my guilt.
Almost.
Other members of the herd wake up around us, and I feel their familiar nuzzles and caresses as Fury orders us to our feet. Her grunts and growls might as well be words now. I know her body language almost as easily as I know English.
And right now she’s restless.
The easy pickings of summer and fall are coming to a close. We need to gather food. We have to find some sort of permanent lodging. She hardly ever lets us stay in one place for long, but now that the winds are growing colder, I know she won’t have a choice. Our wandering days are coming to an end. Soon we’ll bed down. Soon we’ll rest.
And only after the end of winter will we know who’s strong enough to journey on.
I shiver as a cool breeze hits me. I have no idea how bad the weather will get, but if anyone can get us through it, I know it’s Fury. She pushes each of us to the very edge of our limits. She makes us stronger. If not for her and Flax, I know I’d be dead now. I’m so grateful for all they’ve done for me, but still…
Fury hisses out an order for silence as we approach a narrow dirt road. Ahead of us, an open field sweeps out against the horizon. Small clumps of strawberries grow at the edges of deeply engraved ruts.
I doubt a vehicle has passed over this land in months, but still Fury holds her hand up as she creeps forward to check the area. Beside me, I feel Flax’s arm wrap around mine. She leans her head into the crook of my shoulder and sighs as we wait for the all clear.
She really is a sweet girl.
I’m stroking her hair when Fury gives the whistle, and then we all break through the tree line. I follow Flax south, and we collect piles of strawberries while some of the other girls clamber after the apples hanging from the tree at the end of the road. I watch a pair of tree climbers throw leaves at each other playfully before one of them turns her eyes towards the distance and freezes. In no time at all her companion does the same.
Flax must sense the shiver rolling through me, because her hands wrap around my arm. Crooning softly, she reaches up to stroke my face.
And that’s when the first girl falls.
There’s no grace in her landing. She cries out as her leg buckles beneath her, but she doesn’t stop. On hands and knees she scampers back towards the tree line, and within seconds, everyone around her is running as well.
Flax tugs at my arm, but I can’t move. I’m frozen. Already I hear the soft rumble of a truck’s engine, but the sound does nothing to release my fear-frozen legs.
They’re coming for me. They’re coming.
A high-pitched whimper breaks through Flax’s lips, and I want to tell her to go. Run. Just leave me behind. But of course she won’t. This little ginger sprite loves me too much for that, and if I’m about to be taken, I guess she’s given herself up for lost as well.
Thank God for Fury.
The Amazon’s hands latch around ea
ch of our arms, and with a violent tug, she sets us in motion. I’m running now. Dried grass tugs at my feet, and just before I reach the safety of the woods, a sprig of exposed roots drags me to the ground.
I very nearly take Fury down with me.
But of course our guardian isn’t nearly as frail as I am. Still on two legs, she jerks me to my feet, and as I struggle for balance, a single word nearly undoes me.
“Isa!”
My name.
The name my master gave me.
Master!
Turning sharply, I watch a familiar truck skid to a stop. It’s the same truck I’d ridden in before, the truck with the grapes. Everything about it is identical, even the sputtering of its engine as it idles on the dirt road behind us.
From the passenger door, an unmistakable figure steps out.
Master! It really is Master!
He’s wearing suit pants and one of those linen shirts I loved so much. His blonde hair shines in the sunlight. I watch his lips mold into a soft smile, and just seeing those shining blue eyes of his makes my heart melt on the spot
He takes several steps towards us, but at a growl from Fury, he stops. Her tools are in her hands now. In her right, a rusty knife slashes the air while the wire cutters remain solid and sharp in her left.
Master could make her submit. I know he could. But his eyes barely acknowledge her before his gaze turns back on me.
He looks so different, so much less imposing. I can’t figure out why at first, and then it clicks. I’m standing. I’m standing on my own two legs, and so is he. Though he’s still half a foot taller than I am, he’s no longer the giant he was before. He’s no longer in control.
That thought alone nearly takes the breath out of me.
Flax’s arms wrap around my waist, and her lips brush my throat as she tries to pull me away. Master’s smile fades, and I cringe. His gaze, only a second ago focused solely on me, now shifts to Flax, and I can see comprehension pass through his eyes as he gives me a single nod and turns away.