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Caught ( A Serial ) by Reilly and Nan {Chapter Nine}

Michael watched as the light from the fire danced across Marion’s face. She was a striking woman, made all the more attractive by her strength, and the ravenous appetite she had for the meal he had prepared. He had always known Marta would be rich and bountiful, her meat sweet with thick healthy cuts. He never imagined he would be watching an elder savor each individual bite, yet there was Marion enjoying a calf, holding it like a drumstick… like a man.

She looked up and smiled at him. “Are you full?” “I was very hungry, it was a strenuous day.” “You were magnificent. Trussing up all the little piglets, plowing Dianne, oh I wish I could have seen you take Catherine down.” “You are happy with what I’ve done?” Marion licked the juice that had remained around her mouth, Michael had never seen anything so erotic. “You have done what you were born to do.” “What if I said I want to eat you next?” “If you crave my flesh I will give it to you willingly. However, I know a man like you has many other interests.” She came and sat in front of him, both of them cross-legged on the ground, staring into each other’s eyes. “Really?” he smirked. She reached up and caressed his face, “You were born for greatness. It is in your eyes.” “Tell me more,” he winked. “What do you want to know?” “Tell me where the Lost go.” “I have never cared if a few lambs slip through the cracks. But if you need to know, I will find them for you.” running the tips of her nails along his mouth. “These girls? They mean nothing to you?”

“The soft and the good?” she laughed, “They are a means to an end.” She took a deep breath and kissed him lightly on the mouth, “When the great separation failed and men came looking for women, they had changed. Their appetites, their hunger was more brutal than ever. My mother was wise; she and other “elders” formed a council, offered to prepare the other girls in exchange for the life they chose. Each tribe would have three Elders, and they would raise, fatten, and mentally prepare the girls for their destiny. From their birth they are given songs to relax them, food to make them plump, taught to forage in the woods to keep them firm, all so that man would have the tastiest and healthiest meat. At times we have added to their feed to increase the bounty, we regulate the population as well.”

“Amazing.” Michael was shocked. She wrapped her legs around him, stroking his member, nibbling on his ear and whispering, “I have so much more to amaze you with.” Placing him barely inside her, rubbing around the other wall, Michael was unable to control his lust pushing in she screamed, “Take me, my Hunter!”

He had never known a woman like this before, she stared straight into his soul as he plowed her deeper and deeper, her nails tore at his back, digging deep into his side as he pushed her to the ground and drove harder and harder. She pulled him in and kissed him hard, her tongue wrapping itself around his, he could taste her sweetness but more than that, he could taste her power! Then it happened; her moans became louder, her smile broader and she came. Pulling him in deeper increasing the speed until he was drained of his seed and collapsed in her arms, “Rest my mighty hunter, we have the whole night.”

Vernon was a restless sleeper, all night long he shifted around, clutching Cyndi tight in his arms. Squeezing and probing with his hands, but that was not why Cyndi could not sleep. She kept her eyes open and prayed a silent prayer that Herbert would find her.

When the sun rose in the morning her prayers remained unanswered. She watched as the little community came alive, the women preparing the morning meal and the men preparing for the day’s hunt. They were all civil with her, but Emily immediately attached herself to Cyndi. “I will show you sister, if that is alright with you, Vernon.” “Teach her good Emily,” Vernon smiled and smacked Cyndi on the ass, “Be a good girl now!”

Cyndi watched them walk off, startled when she noticed one of them missing. As if she could read her mind Emily spoke, “Sarney says he’s not feeling well today.” With that she took Cyndi’s hand and led her through the morning clean up, complete with a myriad of questions. “Sister Cyndi, I remember when you left Haven. They said you were dead.” “I did die, several times Emily. But I was brought back.” “How could you be brought back?” “If my prayers are answered, then I will show you, Emily.” That left the girl confused, but quiet for awhile.

As they approached the lake Cyndi looked towards the horizon for any signs of rescue, yet none greeted her. She bent over and began to wash Vernon’s filthy clothes in the lake. She saw her reflection in the lake, her hair bound up, except for one long strand hanging past her nose, and then she saw him. “Washing your man’s clothes, whore?” She tried to ignore him. “Must be a whore, you being used and all, surviving the city, only whores do that.” Cyndi scrubbed the clothes, unwilling to answer him.

He pounced on her, holding her neck and pushing her head beneath the water, all the time his other hand explored the circumference of her ass. He lifted her up, she gasped for air. “Nice ass like this takes a pounding well I bet! Also cooks up well, too!” and again he pushed her under the cold lake water. She could feel his fingers playing with her sex, as her lungs felt like they would explode. He released her and she quickly crawled away from the water her lungs starved for air she saw little Emily holding a branch and screaming, “She ain’t yours Sarney! You got no rights to hurt her!!!”

Sarney smirked, grabbing the wood and using it to throw Emily into a tree. He grabbed the girl quick, holding her high up by the hair, “Oooh little Emily, sweet little Emily, I take you too if I want.” He punched her hard in the belly, knocking her air out, dropping her. “Let’s see if my brother has un-virginized you everywhere yet?” He picked her rear up to him and drove hard into her ass as Emily cried out.

This time it was Cyndi wielding the large wooden branch, knocking Sarney clean off the girl, “You forget about me Sarney?” He stood up, wiped the blood from his mouth and smiled, “Never gonna forget about you whore. Don’t you worry about that.” And he slowly walked off. Cyndi bent down to help Emily, quietly weeping on the ground, “It’s alright Emily, he’s gone.” She looked up with tear filled eyes, “No he’s not, sister, he’s never gone.” Emily collapsed into Cyndi’s arms. “You were very brave, little sister.” “But what have I cost us?” Cyndi didn’t have an answer, she simply stroked the girl’s hair and rocked her quietly while Frannie approached them, and finally when the crying lessened, she led them down to the lake to clean up Emily.

Bethany’s carcass was stripped of the prime cuts. Hanging there, her eyes still looking for… something, her blood a giant clot beneath her, her meat cooked and wrapped as Ron and Gob stared at Herbert. Ron spoke first, “So what do we do with him?” “Blow his fucking brains out. He ain’t gonna lead us to her, and he’s just as good to us dead.” Gob plainly stated. “Not true.” Herbert answered “Without me to recondition how can our society justify itself?” Gob groaned. Cripes, he hated this philosophical crap. Ron leaned in. “Lust doesn’t need justification.” “Trust me, without my help you don’t find Cyndi… and the rest.” Ron’s heart jumped, but it was the Goblin that spoke, “What rest?”

Herbert calmly explained, “The Lost.”

“Holy shit, Goblin. We find the Lost and they’re gonna erect a statue to us!” Ron grabbed his friend.

“Fine. Lead us to the Lost and then we blow your brains out.” Gob was triumphant.

“You two have a lot to learn about taking a hostage.” Herbert explained, “Here’s what I propose. I’ll get you to the Lost and you can be Heroes. But Cyndi and I go free.”

They stared at each other and just as Gob was about to tell him to shove it, Ron punched him in the side. “Deal.”

Staring into the camera, “We’re gonna drop this payload at the Processing Center and then we’re back on the trail of our two lovebirds.” “And Cut.” Trevor called out. “What if I had more?” Michael stared at him. “I never meant to insult you, I just…” Trevor stammered. “Carl, I think a running commentary is unnecessary; I feel I would like to narrate this from now on.” Michael flatly stated. “I agree.” With that Trevor stared so hard he could have burned a hole straight through Carl. “We will be on the road a while Michael, you will need more meat.” Marion asserted. She stepped into the back of the beast, walking amongst the trussed up girls, running her hands along them. “We certainly know how to raise the plumpest, firmest girls don’t we. Now these three we will keep, they will sustain you.”

“Shh! I don’t know if it’s safe yet. No talking–stop!” Jamie turned and admonished the little ones behind her. The row of girls stopped short, some tumbling into each other, suppressing giggles and then growing solemn when they saw the look on Jamie’s face.

The girls hid inside a natural cave five miles past the border of their Haven-home. Jamie scanned the field that lay below them, just down the gentle slope. Where was Megan? She’d promised to round up the stragglers and return before sunset. It was nearly dark now. After all they’d seen, Megan wouldn’t return to the Elders, to Haven—would she? Already, a few of the girls in Jamie’s band—the older ones, and possibly one or two of the younger—had sneaked into the grass, the trees. No matter what the Elders had done, they still wanted to believe. Jamie shook her head. She couldn’t understand it, except–

“Jamie, we’re hungry. Can we have some oatmeal?” A girl with a cloud of tangled blond hair tugged at Jamie’s hand. “Where is Cook? Why don’t they come to feed us? We’re starving!” A whimpery chorus rose up. “Yes, we need our oats and honey, oh please?” Jamie cast another glance over her shoulder. No sign of friend or foe. She sighed as she walked deeper into the cave. “I’m too young to be Elder!” She frowned. “No. No more Elders. Just sisters now. Yes.” She raised her hands and gave the gathering sign, and the little girls sank to the damp ground, making a tight circle around her.

“In the name of all that’s soft and good,” she sang.

“Lead us safely through the wood,” the little ones replied.

“Good!” cried Jamie. “You’ve already learned the new refrain. Now listen, girls, I need to speak hard truth, the Story Bench kind. Hold hands, be strong.”

All around her, girls joined hands and whispered nervously, drawing closer in. Their eyes were huge. Jamie looked into each frightened face and paused. These little ones had seen their older sisters wrenched from them. They’d seen a Hunter breach the secret walls of Haven and tear their entire world apart. They’d fled to one cave and then to another, running like rabbits before a fire. Could they take much more? They had to. Jamie sighed and then she spoke.

“My sisters–oh, little ones, it is so hard for me to speak the truth!— But my sweet ones, listen. Elders fattened us for food.”

Around the circle, the girls shook their heads, protested, “No!” “Not Diane!” “Not Cook, not Elder Catherine!”

Jamie silenced them. “Yes. Listen girls. Learn. The truth is hard, but it won’t hurt us any longer, if we do not hide from it.” The little ones snuffled, and some hid their faces against the shoulders of the girls sitting tight beside them. No one spoke. Jamie sang the song she’d been composing in her head for miles that day. Tears spilled down her face, and her voice was choked, but she got the words out, anyway.

We sisters love our cherished wood. This was our Haven, safe from men. The Elders sacrificed the good. They fattened us, let Hunters in. We sing new songs tonight, we vow No harm to anyone, New Haven, now.

She felt warm hands on her shoulders. Jamie turned and saw Megan, smiling. Jamie felt relief flood through her. Megan was still with her! Look at her—so beautiful, so strong for one so young. And she had found at least ten girls. They were older, strong, and quick enough to have escaped the Hunter’s net. Good. And they brought food! The little ones squealed as the older ones brought out pots and set about cooking porridge. There were greens, too, and tiny strawberries, and even milk—Megan had taken longer because she’d risked capture, slipping back to the high pasture to steal a pair of cows.

“These oats taste funny.” Barbie stuck out her tongue. Her friend Ginny agreed. All around, the circle of little girls, and even some of the older ones made faces at their bowls of oatmeal. “Cook Catherine makes them better!” Megan and Jamie looked at each other, nodded. Time to explain. Megan spoke.

“Girls? Cook fed us sweet rich oats laced with stuff to make us grow sleek and fat, like the cows we keep.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Barbie pouted. “It tasted good! And it made me feel all happy, sleepy, smiley, too. Oatey-oatie-oh I love you so so so!”

Several of the littlest girls chimed in, it was their favorite breakfast song, the first one Cook taught any of them. “Oaties make me grow! I love them so-so-so! Give me oatey oatie-O’s til my tummy sings, Ho ho!”

“Oaties had stuff in them to make you dream, I think,” Megan said. “Yes.” Jamie nodded. “Stuff that made you want to smile and listen to the songs, and dream—” “Of Hunters?” Felicia asked. “I did, and I wasn’t scared in my dream, I wanted—” “Yes! YES!” several girls joined in. “To go to them!”

Megan had felt it too, she nodded. And now, what was it? What felt so different? She realized that she didn’t feel it, now she didn’t have that happy, dreamy smile, now she felt each thorn, each rock in the path. She’d figured that the horror of the Hunter was what had made her feel so low, and of course, his rampage had given her nightmares, and would for years. But no, it was more than that, this lack she felt. The food. It had to be.

“Bethany was right.” Jamie whispered it. “She said Cook slipped it into our food.”

The older girls called their charges to them, made soft beds, and took turns watching ‘til well past dawn. If some of them still missed the Elders, if some of them still dreamt of Hunters, no one let on. ———————————————————————— ————— . Frannie dozed in her tent. She was due any day now, and she needed her rest. Emily smiled as she peeked in on the lovely girl then let her tent flap close. She walked to where Cyndi crouched, digging through the mess of cast off tools and gear in the fifth tent. Emily bit her lip against the pain that throbbed inside her. That dirty rat, Sarney, lay snoring in his tent, his belly full of poor Linda. He hadn’t shed a tear for her, only bemoaned the fact that she’d got so scrawny, there wasn’t any more of her to eat.

“Cyndi? What are you looking for?” Emily crouched beside her, just inside the tent.

Cyndi sat back on her heels and assessed the younger girl. “Emily, are you happy here?”

“They give me food. I was cast out, I can’t return—Haven—”

“Sh, sweetie, I know, I know. I am Lost, too. But these men! You’ve seen what they do to their wives. They eat them, Emily. They break them, they hurt them—they hurt you! And Emmy, sweetie– they eat them too.”

Emily crumpled into tears and Cyndi held her, humming soothing songs, but then she drew away from the weeping girl. “We have to get away. There is someone out there who will help us. We’ll find the Lost, we’ll be ok. Do you think Frannie would—”

“Cyndi! If Sarney hears you he’ll kill us!” The tentflap was down, and the two were cast into golden light inside the canvas. They listened and heard no movement, only the creaking of the trees and birdsong, with the river rushing faintly in the distance.

“If we stay, they’d just as soon kill us and eat us. Emily, we have to get away. This is not for me. I have a—”

“I heard them talk. I heard you were running away from a man when they caught you.”

“No, Emily. Not running away. Herbert is my man. All I want in this world, Emmy? All I want is to find him again, and be safe. Make contact with the Lost if we can..save you, too, and Frannie if she wants to join us.. her and her baby—but sweetie, we have to go! Help me find weapons. We have to get ready, now, while the men are away. We could go right now, if we can arm ourselves. Help me!”

Emily shook her head, confused, frightened. “A man? How can you be sure–? No, Cyndi, it’s too late, it’s too soon, I mean, they’ll find us, they always do. And then they’ll rape us. Again and again, Cyndi. No, it’s too scary. I can’t.” Emily wept again. Cyndi sighed and turned to the scrap heap to forage. Five minutes later, she heard Frank’s voice.

“Hello the camp! We got you a fine mess of food, come look-see!”

The girls emerged from the supply tent. Frank called Emily, and she joined him. Donald stuck his head into his tent. “Frannie?” he hollered, “Where’d you git to, girl?”

“Here, Donald!” Frannie came from the woods just behind the tents. “I must have to pee a thousand times a day!” she giggled. She joined her husband, casting a long glance at Cyndi as she draped a hand on Donald’s shoulder. The two disappeared into their tent.

Cyndi’s back stiffened. Where had Frannie been just now? Close enough to hear them? Vernon distracted Cyndi by grabbing her from behind, his dirt-caked nails digging into her breasts. “We got time for a little poker before dinner, Cyndi-girl.”

“Poker! Ha! But hey, guys. After we eat, whaddya say we play a few handsa cards? You two gotta give me a chance to get back the money you stole, last time we played,” Sarney said, scratching his belly. One of his eyes was swelling where the branch had grazed him.

Vernon grabbed the nape of Cyndi’s neck and heaved her inside the tent. “Suits me fine,” he said. “Gotta knock me off a piece now though. Take the edge off my appetite.”

At the Processing Plant the girls shrieked and wailed as the were unloaded and placed into lines. All except the three that remained in the truck, designated the plumpest, tenderest morsels for Marion’s Hunter. They watched with tear filled eyes as their friends were taken away, still unsure of what lay ahead.

Carl watched as the blonde he had enjoyed was taken off. He debated talking to Michael about her when Trevor approached and said, “Into the Wild is my show! How dare you agree with him?!” Carl did not want to be disturbed, waiting for a chance to talk to Michael, who was too busy watching his credit levels explode, “Trevor, they watch for the hunters.” “I’m not done with either of you, you’ll see.”

“Yeah, great working with you too, Trevor. Best of luck.” Carl walked past him, noticing a free Michael. “Michael–got a minute?”

Michael wrapped his arm around Carl. “Carl my man, this has been amazing. What can I do for you?” “Funny you should ask, that blonde, I was wondering… maybe I could pay you back later… you know…” “Carl. Consider her a gift from me to you.” Carl approached her as they guided her off the line. “Don’t worry, just go with them. You’re mine now.” Sandra tried to smile at the man. Where were they taking her?

Poor Michelle, alone and lost. She had never wandered so far from the village before, she was a good girl, always following the rules, Elder Catherine had called her special and when no one was looking she always gave Michelle a little extra surprise. She ran because she was scared, and even though she was exhausted she couldn’t stop, all the time tears running down her face whenever she remembered what had happened to Elder Catherine, and her village. Where would she go? What would become of her?

She ducked under a branch and suddenly came to a stop. Someone was holding her. Michelle tried to get away, but she fell to the floor, knocking the wind out of her and hitting her head.

“This freaking forest is chock full of meat!” Gob called out to Ron. “This one jumped right into me.” Ron came running up. “The hunters always made it looks so hard. Look at this one Gob, she’s sweet!” Gob ran his hands along her legs, “I think she’s meatier than the last one!”

“Please, my name is Michelle. Please don’t hurt me. My village.. they came…”

“Shh sweetie”, Ron tried to quiet her nicely, “We’ll take care of you.” With that he tossed her over his shoulder, she began to kick and wiggle, “Oh you gotta feel this Gob, all this tender meat, ohh man! Easy girl, we have a ways to go.” Stroking her sex, Ron stuck his finger deep into Michelle. She let out a deep long wail and bit her lip at the violation, then slumped onto his shoulder and moaned quietly.

“Good girl.” Ron began to walk, stroking her wet pussy. Gob came close, running his fingers along her contorted mouth, “Now we have time to enjoy this one.”

All the time Herbert stood transfixed, watching the struggling girl, her violation, her submission, wondering where Cyndi was and how they would ever survive in a world like this?

Marion brushed the hair away from Michael’s face, her nails caressing his cheek, “I will find these Lost for you, there is no need for these worry lines.” He held her hand against his face, so warm, so gentle, leaning in to kiss her.

“Relax, my mighty hunter.” Lovingly she pushed him to the ground, her hands running down his chest to his pants, undoing them, taking him into her mouth, her eyes locked with his as he went in deeper and deeper. He leaned back under the canopy of trees, feeling her lips massage his manhood, her throat constrict around his tip, she did not gag or moan, her hands running up his sides and caressing him. She took his offering and continued until his head began to spin, then she laid next to him, playing with his chest hairs, whispering in his ears, “All for you, my Master. All for you.”

Carl sat in the truck watching the woman pleasure Michael through the side mirror, the whole time kicking himself for not bringing his new girl along. She would be kept at the kennel until he returned, but oh, he needed her now as his balls throbbed. In the back he could hear the three meatgirls whispering and singing their songs. Maybe he should just grab one and relieve his agony. Before he could act he saw Marion stand up and begin to approach the back of the vehicle.

“We were all so hungry there is nothing left of the blonde; time to fetch a new one?” Marion whispered and her breath tickled his ear. “Yes.”

She rose and walked away, he watched her, marveling at her magnificent body. Marion entered the back of the truck and assessed its contents, “Are we done singing?”

“Please Elder, how will we escape this nightmare?” Elizabeth begged an answer.

“Hush now, Elizabeth.” The girls were caged now, for easier transport. Marion placed her hand inside the cage and ran it along the girl’s hindquarters, “You certainly ate your oats, didn’t you dear?” Squeezing her fleshy rump.

“Mother Marian please,” Elizabeth began to sob uncontrollably, “I was a good girl, I…”

“Yes you were a very good girl. You will be an even better meal.” Leaving the crying girls, Marian began to build a fire.

The sun began to set, the women cleaned as the men broke out a deck of cards. Cyndi and Emily exchanged glances as the cold stare of Frannie followed them wherever they went. As the men became more boisterous, she confronted them, starting with Cyndi, “You are going to ruin everything.”

Cyndi was shocked, “Ruin? Ruin what, the casual rapes, the beatings? Maybe you’re talking about the chance to grace a spit, slowly roasting over an open flame, is that what you’re afraid I’m ruining?”

Frannie got right into Cyndi’s face, “You so smart eh? Got to see the big city? Girls like me and Emily– we just want to be taken care of, and these men take care of us. All you gotta do is produce offspring and you’re safe.”

“You mean produce male offspring?” Cyndi questioned with a light smirk in her eyes.

Donald called out, “Frannie, I’m tired of losing!” Frannie ran to the call, wobbling all the way grimacing as she helped the woozy Donald to his feet, bracing him as she led him to their tent.

Emily noticed the contortion of Frannie’s face. “She just wants to keep Donald happy, that’s all Cyndi. She won’t listen. Look how much pain she’s in.”

“She may have no choice,” Cyndi quietly added.

One by one each man bowed out and called his woman to soothe his damaged ego. Shivering far away from the fire, Cyndi waited for Vernon to give up, but Sarney kept winning and Vern said he was no quitter! In the shadows of the night she searched for salvation. Where was Herbert? However the activity surrounding the fire soon brought her back. “You got nothing left to bet, Vernon!” Sarney proudly exclaimed.

“That’s cause you know I got a good hand,” Vern was drunk and had dreams of winning back everything.

“Good hand or not, you’re done.” “You have to give me one more chance, Sarney!” “You really think you got a good hand, Vern?” Cyndi could hear the snake coil up, preparing to strike. Vern slurred his affirmation, “I’ll bet you Cyndi, thish hand’sh a winner.”

Sarney purred, “Deal.”

Vern slammed his hand down as Cyndi held her breath, “Full housh Kingshover eightsh” “Very good Vern. However still beaten by four of a kind.” Sarney savored the silence acompanying Verns defeat. He rose, “Good night Vern. Come Cyndi! Try to stay warm, brother.”

Cyndi sat in shock, Sarney walked right up and smacked her face, “Wake up whore, we’ve got a long night ahead of us.” Grabbing Cyndi’s hair he pulled her towards his tent. Cyndi looked at Vern who stared into the flames, unable to even look back.

Throwing her in, Sarney growled, “Turn around whore.” Cyndi slowly turned. “That is a fine ass, give a man a helluva cushion. Sit on the floor. Spread your legs. Very nice, now rub that twat, get yourself all nice and wet.” Cyndi sat on the rough dirt, and doing as he commanded, she began to play with her sex. Inside, she burned. “You getting all juicy for your man whore,” Sarney demanded.

Cyndi looked up. “I asked you, you a juicy whore?”

Cyndi did not know what to say, Sarney grabbed her face, “Tell me!” Cyndi swallowed, “I’m a juicy whore.” With that Sarney pushed her down and drove into her, pumping up and down on the hard ground, “I knew it! An ass like that is a pleasure to drive!!” The feel of her tender meat softening the blow, he smacked her as he plowed harder, “Tell me again!”

A tear ran down Cyndi’s face as she whispered, “I’m a juicy whore.”

“Now tell me you’re a sweet juicy whore with a big ass!”

Cyndi bit her lip, and Sarney smacked her again. She obliged, “I’m a sweet juicy whore…with a big ass.” “When I’m done with you, you’re gonna beg me to eat you. Tell me.”

“When you’re done with me… I want you to eat me.”

“Quick learner for a whore!!!” Sarney came, dropping his weight on her hard. Playing with her mouth, smiling, while another hand clamped down on her breast. He stood up, “Lay down on the table!”

Cyndi slowly stood and laid down on the table. “Face down, you stupid whore!”

Slowly she turned over. Sarney approached and pulled her legs down, spreading her cheeks, grabbing each side in his hands, “My god whore, how did you ever avoid being cooked?” He drove into her throbbing sex, whacking harder and harder on her rump, “Lookit that meat, it jiggles, but it’s tight whore! You a firm fat whore!!! Tell me!”

“I’m a firm fat whore.” And with that Sarney took a mouthful of her shoulder and bit down hard, tasting her blood in his mouth.

“Oh whore, I got something special for you. Gonna make me a whore stew. Gonna slowly boil you in some water, with greens, gonna watch you simmer. Watch the heat overtake you and redden this creamy white flesh. You gonna beg me to die, I’m gonna pour the water over your head myself. ‘Cept I’m gonna keep this hair, nice and soft whore. Oh yeah! I’m gonna watch your meat fall off the bone!”

Elizabeth finished satisfying Carl with her mouth as Marian and Michael watched. “Come here girl.” Marian called her over, smiling as the bound girl walked on her knees.

“Yes, Mother Marian.”

She turned to her lover, “Michael, have you worked up an appetite?”

“Yes Marian, time to cook the pig.” Marian picked up the axe, “Put your head down, piggie.”

“PLLLLEEEEAASE, NO! Please!” the girl screamed as she lowered her head. Marian squeezed her back meat. “Anyone mind if I have the ribs?” as she drove the blade down into the weeping girl. ———————————————————————— ————————- Ron sneered at Herbert. “Fat chance we’re letting you loose again, you ingrate idiot.”

Herbert scowled as Gob cinched up the ropes that held him tight against an aspen. Gob grinned. “This guy’s SO failed his reconditioning, trying to rescue this little piglet. Ha!”

Michelle squirmed on the ground in front of the men. The weeping girl was naked now, her belly and face in the dirt. Gob admired his knots. She wasn’t going anywhere, either. He’d clocked Herbert a good one, right on the kisser, and then Ron had brought the girl down with a sweet sling shot. Gob bound them both up while they were still dopey. Stupid clerk. Stupid cow.

Herbert watched as Ron disappeared into the woods and returned a few minutes later with a pair of long poles. He skinned the bark away and started lashing shorter sticks between them. A ladder? He thought. Why in–?

“Ron, why in hell you making a ladder?” Gob asked. He was alternately slapping and massaging Michelle’s rump, running his hands over her, toying with her sex. She made a good cushion, too, he could sorta lean against her and watch his crazy partner turn all Boy Scout on him.

“Not a ladder, Goblin, you lame brain. It’s like a grill, see? We make a couple sets of Y supports, tie her onto the ladder-thing here, hoist the whole contraption up, and off she roasts, no need to try and thread her with a crooked goddam spit!” Ron was a little squeamish about the threading part, no doubt. He could just imagine poking one right through her chest or something.

“Dude! You oughta have your own cooking show. I’ll make the Y’s—let’s cook this little roast!”

Herbert let his body sag against the tree. Those two were occupied, and it looked as if he might not get a chance to save Michelle. She stared at him with such soft wet eyes that he thought he’d go insane. Got to get out of this, I can do this, yes. Herbert sucked in his breath again and twisted right and left. Yes! He’d pumped himself up while Goblin tied him, he’d tried to expand his chest and bloat out his belly, even flex his arms and legs. It had paid off. In tiny increments he felt his bonds loosen. He’d work his way out. He only hoped it would be before she roasted. ———————————————————————— —————————-

Sarney admired his own feral cunning a bit too much. He’d fastened a heavy iron collar around Cyndi’s neck before he passed out, and he’d attached the collar to a length of iron chain. But he hadn’t thought to make sure the chain was still attached to his bedpost. When Cyndi discovered the broken end of the rusty chain lying loose in the dirt, she almost wept. No, be quiet! she thought. I have to get away tonight, take Emmie if I can, come back if I can’t but out, I have to get out, out. Out!

There was a high-pitched humming in her head; it was hard to think of anything but blind, raging hate. No. I’ll lose if I give into this, she counseled herself. Slower, calmer, she willed herself –be soft, be good. Willows bend, they do not break.

She sat on the dirt floor by Sarney’s bed, careful to keep the links of the chain from clinking. Five feet of chain, maybe more hung from her neck, pulling her down. Sarney lay snoring, belly up, his face contorted as he drew in a phlegmy breath. Cyndi arranged the chain against soft cloth. There. No sound at all. She stared at Sarney, smelled his breath, saw him kicking Linda, raping Emmie. Enough.

The feel of hitting him with that log–that had been so good. Cyndi dug deep into the pocket of the cast off skirt she wore. There. She hadn’t lost it. A crescent of jagged metal, broken off a pot. Her hand closed around it, she drew it out slowly, hefting it in the darkness, feeling its weight. It was all she’d had time to salvage from the supply tent today, and it would have to do.

He breathed in ragged fits and starts, drawing in air, holding it. Cyndi watched in terrible fascination as his body fought to get new breath, his belly convulsing until at last his mouth gaped open and his lungs dragged in another gout of air. His head was turned away from her, his feet splayed, one leg bent, the other straight. His arms were thrown wide. One chance.

She breathed in, great gulps of air, felt her heart pounding. Something. Something to gag him with, in case.

She found a scrap of sodden cloth, his handkerchief. She placed it just beneath his chin. Cyndi hovered over him, her breath coming fast, heart skittering as she closed her fingers on the makeshift blade. She turned her eyes away from his face and focused every ounce of her strength, every bit of her concentration on the pulsing at his neck. There. Yes.

“Oh god you’re hurting me, Frank!” Emily’s voice startled Cyndi. She almost dropped the shard of metal onto Sarney’s heaving chest. Not now, oh please, not now, Cyndi thought as she froze, only inches away from the beast below. So close, she could feel his breath on her. Would he sense her there? She held her breath interminable seconds, felt about to teeter, explode. Sobs, whimpers, and a muffled slap came from Frank’s tent. Sarney snored on, oblivious.

Cyndi nodded. If this made her damned, so what. She was already lost. If this got her back to Herbert, it was worth any cost. Any cost. She nodded, took in huge breaths again, focused on the beating of this vile man’s heart— And slashed her crescent of ragged metal deep into his neck, and blood–hot, ferrous, stuff–came shooting out. Cyndi was unprepared for the sheer force of the streams that spurted straight up from Sarney’s neck. His eyes shot open, his hands rose up. Unthinking, Cyndi reared back and lashed him once, twice, countless times with her chain. Until he stopped. She stopped him, that’s what she did. For someone else, for Emily, for the next Lost one who wandered in. ———————————————————————— ———————————

Michelle lay on her belly, atop the homemade grill. Ron had propped it up just so, with her head canted down toward the ground, and her gently rounded buttocks tilted up, toward him. She screamed as he plowed her deep. Her long, dark hair was frizzled into a cloud around her head, and her skin was deep pink, charred in spots. She couldn’t see.

“Dammit, she hasn’t stopped screaming yet, I say we slit her open, heck with the live roast crap,” Goblin said, waving his favorite knife. “Look at her, she’s toast!” he chuckled.

It was one of Ron’s secret cravings, to see what a half-roasted girl-fuck would feel like. Hell, not half bad, but Gob was right, that screaming had to stop.

“Yeah, let’s gut her and finish her off, Gob.” Gob beamed and scampered up to the meat girl. The two men pulled her off the grill and turned her face up. Ron leaned down close to her blistered face and whispered, “Adios, Michelle! Roast you later! Ha!”

Gob rested a hand on her sternum and got leverage, and then he slit her belly deep, puncturing organs, releasing a foul stench. Eventually, they finished cleaning her and placed her on the grill. “Damn, Goblin, you got to learn a little finesse,” Ron grumbled. “Always in such a hurry!”

Herbert was in a hurry, too. While the two would-be hunters raped and butchered their latest meatgirl, Herbert had wriggled his way free. Yes, Ron and Gob were fascinated with the roasting girl. Herbert knew he’d have a little while, maybe even an hour or so before they’d notice he was missing. Besides, it was full dark. He wondered why these two never managed to cook anything by dinnertime.

Free! Herbert ran through the woods, blessing the soft ground, blessing the full moon, blessing the sound of the river rushing past and covering his stumbling crashes into fallen trees and outstretched branches. Free! Cyndi, I’m coming, I’m coming! He wanted to shout it, he could feel her; he could almost see her.

And then, he did. He saw her–Cyndi! Cyndi, sobbing, holding her belly and bending over, sick. His Cyndi. Not a dream. There she was, at the river’s edge, sinking to her knees and whimpering.

Herbert couldn’t speak, he was afraid to break this spell. If he spoke her name and she turned around and it wasn’t her—

Her skin prickled, and Cyndi looked up. Not alone. Her senses were still magnified, her heart would not slow down, and oh, god, the blood, she was sick. So sick. But—was someone there? She turned away from the river and saw the figure of a man crouching, frozen in the act of rushing toward her. Awkwardly. This man was not a hunter, not a woodsman. It was as if he were out of place here, caught.

As if he’d never run through woods at night before. As if he only knew the pavement. Before.

“Herbert!” Cyndi splashed water on herself. She was so filthy, oh no! She felt delirious. She leaped up, caught the iron chain under her feet and fell.

Herbert was there, his throat so tight with tears, he could hardly breathe.

“Cyndi. It’s ok now,” he whispered into her hair. He lifted her into his arms and held her.

“Herbert. Oh my Herbert,” she sighed. Cyndi slipped her arms around her man and held him tight.

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