Chapter 13
As soon as he’d tied the blindfold in place around her eyes, it was as if Marcus had changed personalities. His grip was firmer, his voice gruffer, and Deborah couldn’t help but stumble a little more helplessly that she would have usually.
“On your feet,” he snapped, digging nails in under her arm and hoisting her up, pushing her on so she tripped over again.
The spongy undergrowth caught her safely each time but she craved a graze from a tree root or some bark at the very least. When she was on her knees for about the seventh time, Marcus apparently lost his patience.
“For God’s sake. Can’t you even walk?” The words hissed into her ear as he crouched down behind her, running his palm roughly under her behind. Her ass was bare beneath her skirt and he reached through her thighs and cupped her whole mound, lifting her by her crotch to a standing position. “There, that’s not so hard now, is it?”
She stood trembling as he began to slowly rub the heel of his hand into her moistening cleft, pushing harder and harder, making her spread her thighs and totter on her pointed toes. His fingers twisted into her pubic hair and gave it a sudden tug.
“I asked you a question,” he whispered, tugging harder this time, and Deborah winced.
The heat from his breath curled around her ear and ruffled the downy hairs on her jawline, sending an electric current cascading through the nerve endings down over her décolletage to the peaking nubs of her nipples where it buzzed.
“I said, that’s not so hard now, is it?” Marcus repeated.
Deborah shook her head and willed her mouth to stop short of curling into an excited smile.
“Good.” He gave an extra tug on her pussy hair and pressed again into her widely spread lips. His hand slipped around easily, coated in her juices and she started undulating her hips to try and catch a fingertip on her awakening clit. He declined the offer, just as she knew he would, and withdrew his hand.
She smiled to herself again. This was going to be fun. The knowledge that they’d met, however briefly, at ultimate unity made her ready to wait and just enjoy each and every sensation without the worry that they would be there together. It was a serene yet vibrant knowledge, and Deborah could feel herself dropping away as the welling in her clit built.
A twig snapping underfoot brought her back to the here and now. Low voices, hushed further by the leafy coverage, made her senses prick. She identified Birch and Hazel immediately, but thought she could sense something else. A smell, perhaps? Something familiar yet unfamiliar—sinister almost.
She shivered and gave herself a mental shake. Who wouldn’t be spooked, blindfolded and led through a forest to some sort of sexual experiment? She calmed once more and the nerves were replaced by sudden desire as Marcus deftly slipped a finger inside her from behind.
“Don’t worry, I’m here, you’re safe,” he said quietly in his normal voice then, just as quickly, changed again as the finger jabbed abruptly then pulled out. “Is that clear?”
Deborah knew to reply quickly this time and nodded with her head bowed.
“Good.”
Without warning, Marcus pulled Deborah’s hands behind her back and began to bind them tightly with some sort of fabric—a silk scarf, or handkerchief maybe? Now she was fully aroused and disorientated, swaying on her bare feet as her toes splayed out, trying to grip the spongy soil. Liquid leaked from her pussy lips onto the tops of her inner thighs and she rubbed them together, trying to hide just how aroused her vulnerable state made her. Marcus prodded her forward as he held onto her wrists, barely keeping her upright. She stumbled on until she sensed they were standing before Birch and Hazel.
“Welcome, Thorn and Celeste.” Birch’s voice was solemn and it chilled Deborah. She had been taking this as a bit of a joke until now, but that tone sobered her.
She held her breath, fully aware of how erect her nipples would look piercing through her thin blouse and how her skirt rode up to expose her thighs and knees, filthy from falling on the ground and being handled roughly by Marcus. The image of herself looking so disheveled seared itself into her mind and her desire raged through her as quickly as it had left.
She was relieved when Birch continued with a softer tone. “Hazel and I have asked you here to share your knowledge of ultimate unity with us.” The sound of him shuffling in his seat gave Deborah a clearer image of the situation. They must both be sitting. This seemed suddenly important somehow, and she relaxed further as Birch went on, “It seems we have been mistaken. We were of the conceited opinion that we had something to teach you about unity but we humbly accept that, despite your tender years, you are far beyond us in your practices.”
Deborah thought she heard Hazel sob, but it was quickly disguised as a sniff.
“Please, let us bear witness to an ultimate unity. Take us with you on your journey into being one,” Birch said.
Deborah quivered. They wanted a sex show? Her natural prude reared its head, and she hunched her shoulders, stepping back a little, but Marcus pushed her forward.
“We’ll show you ours if you show us yours,” he said cockily, and Deborah knew she was in for an orgy. The thought flooded her body with feral desire, and she broke free of the hunch, arching her back and pushing her breasts high, and opened her legs while wriggling her hips to ride her skirt up. She wanted to show the other couple her ripe sex as her response. She felt it important she remain silent for now.
Marcus seemed to understand immediately and helped expose her ruffled muff by hoisting her skirt higher. She could hear Hazel’s breath trembling and imagined her luscious rosebud nipples straining through her kaftan. She was wet, so wet now, and her lips felt plump and full as Marcus parted them with two fingers to show off her slick, red cherry.
“Feel how wet she is,” he urged their audience.
Deborah opened and closed her eyes, moving her brow frantically as she tried to lift the blindfold up a little. It worked. A tiny opening appeared just below both eyes; she could see directly down to her exposed cunt.
“Go on, feel her,” Marcus insisted. “You need to be this wet.”
Deborah heard her own heart thundering as a shaking hand came into view. Birch curled all his fingers into his fist apart from his middle one. Deborah parted her legs and tilted her hips, ready for the invasion. Slowly, painfully slowly, Birch probed at her entrance, which was held open by Marcus. She groaned and stared as Birch suddenly corkscrewed his thick, rough finger deep into her. Her head fell back as another finger joined the first, stretching and fucking her with a new, unfamiliar touch. Her fleshy walls contracted around him, holding him, beckoning him, but he withdrew and she felt empty.
A softer touch came. Slow, languid probing started and Deborah was taken over with stillness. The world centered on those divine, slick digits, working into her, expertly sliding in and out with their feathery touch. It was so different, so feminine. She could sense them trying to coax something from her. A wisp of herself broke free as the tug of her orgasm drew her into it. Somewhere, a tiny speck of consciousness snapped her back to the physical world. Deborah realized she would have to be careful who she let bring her to that metaphysical space. She had sensed Hazel’s greed and desperation for her knowledge and it scared her. Hazel had tried to steal it from her—knowingly or not, it didn’t matter. Deborah was now on guard.
“Take this thing off,” she said, trying to shake her head out of the blindfold. Marcus untied it and her hands, rubbing her wrists to get the circulation going.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking concerned, and Deborah realized she was shaking. She glanced at Birch and Hazel who suddenly looked like vultures to her, ready to pluck away at her gift and take it for their own. Despite the generosity they had shared, she could only see the change now and she panicked.
“I just need a moment. That was pretty intense for me.” She forced a smile at her audience, then pulled Marcus away a little. “We need to get out of here.”
�
�What? You’re crazy,” Marcus whispered, but it wasn’t gentle and Deborah’s panic rose, imagining he had turned cold too. “This is what we wanted, Debs.”
“Celeste, what’s wrong?” Birch loomed toward them and Deborah swallowed hard, trying to keep a lid on the terror that now threatened to engulf her.
“Nothing, I just need to pee or something.” She edged away and made eyes at Marcus. “Come on,” she hissed under her breath, and relief sank through her when she saw his kind eyes acquiesce.
“I’ll come with you.” Marcus took her arm in a firm, reassuring grip. “I’m suddenly desperate.” He turned to Birch and Hazel with a nonchalant shrug. “Won’t be a minute.”
They started their walk, Deborah knowing this was it, they had to leave, when Birch sprang in front of them.
“What’s all this?” His expression was hard as glass and Deborah actually cowered. “You’re not thinking of doing anything stupid, are you?”
“Come on, mate,” Marcus reasoned. “We’re just going for a pee.”
“I don’t think so.” He took hold of Marcus, who pushed Deborah away to the cover of bushes. There was a scuffle and Marcus was suddenly on the floor bleeding and Deborah was pinned to a tree by Hazel.
“Hazel, I-I don’t understand,” Deborah pleaded, but Hazel’s face was stricken.
“Do you know how long we’ve been practising? You stole ultimate unity from us.” Hazel’s eyes were wild and glaring and Deborah knew the woman was mad. Her yearning had tipped her over the edge of sanity, and Deborah was scared. “I want it back. You stole it!”
“I didn’t steal it! Just because we didn’t know what it was called doesn’t mean we didn’t do it before we met you.”
An absolute silence filled the air and Hazel stared at Deborah. “You fucking stole it. And I will have it back.” A piercing shriek cracked the air and Hazel flew at her, limbs flailing chaotically, like a broken bird of prey. Deborah heard a smack, then felt a sting to her cheekbone before blackness.
* * * *
When Deborah came to, she and Marcus were tied together back to back on the forest floor. Deborah retched as she thought about what might have happened to them but Marcus managed to find her hand and squeeze it.
“It’s all right,” he said soothingly, as if reading her mind. “I got her off you. Nothing happened except being tied up.”
Deborah craned her neck to see if she could see the crazy couple. “Where are they?”
“I’m not sure. They went off about ten minutes ago. I heard them talking to someone in the bushes over there but they’ve been quiet for a while now. I think this might be our only chance to leave.” He shuffled about. “Are you hurt? Do you think you can stand up?”
Deborah wriggled her legs. They felt shaky but okay. “I’m fine. Push against me.”
They both took the strain then pressed their backs together hard, lifting up slowly until they were both standing. Well, Deborah was standing, but because she was so tiny, Marcus’s knees were still bent. If he tried to straighten them he would lift her off the ground, causing the ropes to tighten so she couldn’t breathe.
“We’ll have to shuffle until we find a knife or something,” she said, sweat beginning to drip from her forehead. Where their backs joined was wet and sticky, causing friction when they tried to move.
Using all their concentration, the couple shuffled and bumped their way to a thick bush. Deborah could have cried as they collapsed in a heap just inside it, relieved to have found cover. As she searched along the bindings for a knot to untie, she heard a stick crack near the bush. Birch’s thick laugh jolted her.
“Well, look at you two. All ready to escape.” He laughed a sickening, condescending laugh again.
“Please, Birch, please, just let us go.” Tears streamed down Deborah’s cheeks as defeat drew closer. “Come on, Birch, you’re not a bad person, you don’t need to do this.”
His expression changed. Deborah held her breath, thinking maybe she had got through to him.
“It’s all right, Celeste,” he said evenly. “We know we can’t make you share your gift with us. I’m sorry it got a bit crazy back there. It’s just we’ve been waiting for so long. We do everything required, but still, we don’t have it.”
Deborah slumped back into Marcus, letting relief wash over her. She knew he’d let them go. “You will, Birch. You’ll reach it one day.”
He looked off into the trees for a long time, his expression soft, and Deborah thought it was the right moment to negotiate their freedom.
“Can we go now, Birch?” she said in the softest, most soothing voice she could muster and was astonished when he turned to her with the same grizzly laugh.
“Let you go?” He came so close to Deborah’s face she could smell his rotting teeth. She recoiled. “Don’t be silly,” he crooned, smoothing her hair. “We never had any intention of letting you go.” He stood up straight and laughed haughtily. “Denva!” he called, making Deborah’s blood stop in her veins. “You can have ’em. We’re done here.”
Chapter 14
Deborah was stricken with panic, and she groped and scratched with her nails until she found Marcus’s fingers and gripped them tight. She was disgusted by the sneer on Denva’s face and, worse, the realization that their friends had betrayed them. But they seemed so genuine was the thought that kept circling around and around in her mind. They had been so good to her and Marcus, teaching them skills to survive in the forest, sharing tales and spirituality. She just couldn’t come to terms with this sudden and brutal betrayal.
Denva tied more rope into their bindings and hauled them both upright. Deborah squinted into the undergrowth until she saw the couple scurrying off.
“What did you get for us, Birch?” she yelled, her voice cracking with fury. “An extra fucking bar of chocolate?” Her hair was stuck to her face, and she shook it off and spat on the floor at Denva’s feet.
Birch and Hazel never looked back as they slunk off through the trees.
Deborah wanted to hurt them; she scrambled about, trying to shake off her bonds. “That’s it, just fuck off back to your camp, you fucking hippies. You’ll never reach your precious ultimate unity with your dead, dark hearts.”
She was screeching and mewling, barely coherent now as she struggled, still clutching Marcus’s hands. He was so quiet. Deborah craned her neck back to see him but was rewarded with a hard tug on the rope which sent them stumbling to the ground.
“Not very ladylike, are you?” Denva snarled. His lip curled back to expose blackened teeth and furred tongue. She gagged at the sight.
She felt degraded, desperate, and humiliated, and above all that, she was angry with Marcus for not defending her honor. Why was he silent when this idiot was abusing her so? Dread lurched through her, filling her with fear ten times stronger than that she’d just experienced. Marcus had given up. He’d plain stopped believing they could do this.
She retched as the weight of their predicament, along with Marcus’s bulk, pressed down on her. As she shuffled about she realized Denva had slipped away, having deftly tied the excess rope around a tree. It was as though he hadn’t been there at all, creepy little man. She sighed, her breath catching on the beginning of a sob, but she determinedly sniffed it away.
“Come on, Marcus, please,” she pleaded, nudging him with her backside and elbows. “Pull yourself together.”
She couldn’t believe he’d give up just like that. It was only when his head lolled back against hers awkwardly that she realized he was unconscious.
She bucked and thrashed and shouted to try and rouse him. “Marcus!” she screamed, utterly believing this would be their only chance for escape. Had he been drugged?
She managed to shove him off her a little so they were now lying back to back on the ground. Pulling her stomach in as tightly as she could, she managed to wriggle up just enough to restore her hope that she might be able to get out. It was hot, tiring work and Deborah couldn’t distinguish a second fr
om an hour. The only indication that time was passing steadily was the birds beginning their twilight singing as early evening gloom descended over the forest. Or maybe they’d been here for days? How could Deborah tell if she had been conscious this whole time?
Banishing the thought with an almighty grimace, she tensed every muscle in her body and squeezed the ropes down over her hips, raking and burning her flesh as she did. But it worked. Pushing down lower, she bent her knees awkwardly and pulled them free. When she was out, she dragged Marcus onto his back and he flopped like a corpse at her feet. As she shook him, his hair fell to the side to reveal an oozing lump on his forehead the size and color of a ripe plum. She leaned in, terrified, and checked for breath against her cheek. It was there, soft and steady, as if he were sleeping. Deborah cried onto his chest in relief. She hadn’t realized how scared she’d been until she’d heard that breath.
“Debs?” Marcus blinked and shook his head as Deborah was untying him.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” she said, smoothing his hair out of his eyes as he tentatively fingered the angry bump on his scalp.
“What the hell happened?” he asked, but she could see memories dawning before he’d even finished the sentence. “That fucking Birch!” He folded his legs under himself and made to rise, but quickly stumbled off balance, rubbing his face and blinking.
“It’s all right, come on, relax.” Deborah would have loved nothing more than to find their betrayers and smack their faces, but it was plain to see Marcus was in no state to even stand, let alone avenge their capture.
She laid him back against a smooth tree trunk and tried to mop up the blood now seeping into his hair, desperately trying to formulate a plan. They had nothing. She’d been practically naked when they’d come to the clearing and all their belongings were back at the camp. She had no idea when or if Denva would be back for them, but she knew they needed to get their things. They wouldn’t survive three days out there without at least a blanket and camping knife.
Taking Flight Page 10