“They say that they do it to see how tough she is, and how determined she is to join. If she passes the test, they have a little ceremony when she’s accepted into their ranks. Many of the details are quite crude, even disgusting, but I always found the final act interesting.” He said no more. After a moment, Krissy realized that she was supposed to ask him what that final act was.
“Sir?” she said quickly.
“It’s done outside, at night, around a campfire,” he said. “I’ve seen it a few times. The bitch is first made to crawl around the fire at the end of a leash, naked, so that everyone gets one more good look at her. Then she’s tethered to a stake. She must stay completely still for what comes next, though she may scream as much and as loudly as she likes.” He fell silent again. Krissy was quicker to pick up her cue this time.
“Sir?” she said, trying to sound as if she really was curious. Inwardly, she dreaded what he might say next. The screaming part especially disturbed her.
“All the while, they’ve been heating a branding iron in the fire. Now the leader of the gang takes it out and approaches the bitch from the rear. She has to keep her legs spread very wide, because the brand goes on her inner thigh, very near to her pussy. It’s not a large brand, but I imagine it hurts very much when he applies it. He holds it there for a little while, and once he takes it away the bitch is officially one of the gang. The other women take off the dog collar and give her a good, stiff shot of whiskey. It’s all quite primitive in its way.” His hand slid from Krissy’s breast back to her hip.
“Would you care to be branded, my dear?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Krissy shuddered. She felt a little sick at the thought.
“No, I imagine you would not,” he chuckled. “You have such beautiful, soft skin. More correctly, you had such beautiful soft skin. Now you’re just covered in bruises and welts, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well,” he patted her ass lightly. “Those will fade with time. I’m taking you to your new home, little Krissy. It’s a much better place than that old farmhouse back there. Would you like that?”
“Yes, sir.” Krissy replied. Almost anything had to be better than going back to that farmhouse, even if the ‘new home’ part sounded disturbingly final.
“You’ll have a nice, soft bed to sleep in, and you won’t have to eat from a dog bowl on the floor. Does that sound appealing to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” he said. “But there will be certain rules that you will have to follow as long as you stay there, my sweet little Krissy. They will be explained to you after we arrive there. As long as you obey them, there will be no need to further discipline you. Is that quite clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Krissy couldn’t help shuddering.
“You will also be trained to give pleasure, to men and to women.”
“Sir?”
“Please,” the man sighed. “You cannot possibly be so naïve, but if you must play this game, very well. You are my slave. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir.” Krissy felt her stomach knotting up.
“Good. And since you are female, with such a lovely, buxom body, you certainly realize that you will be used for sex, do you not?”
“Y-yes, sir,” Krissy shivered.
“It will not be so bad,” he went on. “You will be well cared for, as long as you are obedient and learn your lessons. In fact, one of the very first things they will allow you to do after you arrive is take a nice, long, hot bath. Would you like that, my dear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And afterwards, if you like, you may have a nice, long nap. Would you like that?”
“Yes, sir.” Right then, Krissy wished that she could sleep for however long that man in the old folk tale had. Maybe even longer. She could almost feel the invisible chains that this terrible, scary man was slowly and patiently fastening on her body, on her life, on her soul. And there wasn’t one damned thing she could do about it. No, that wasn’t exactly true. She could still try to do something, but it almost certainly wouldn’t work, and then what might he do to her? And what if sending her back to that biker gang wasn’t the worst thing that he could do? She managed to keep herself from screaming, but couldn’t help shuddering violently as his hand, big and strong and warm, gently caressed her ass.
“Wonderful,” he said. He sounded almost happy. “You’ll need a good rest after your time back there, so I will let you sleep for as long as you like. I’m afraid that it will take longer than that for all of those marks on your lovely body to fade. Unfortunately, I cannot spare that time, so once you have fully rested you must begin your training. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” All that Krissy understood clearly was that she would be trained as a sex slave. She didn’t even want to think about what that might entail, but it had to be better than the rough handling and brutal rape that she’d already endured. Didn’t it?
“Are you a bit chilly, my dear?” the man asked.
“Uh…why do you ask, sir?” Krissy gulped. There were so many things that that innocent-sounding question could lead to, and she didn’t think she would enjoy any of them.
“You seem to be shivering. Are you cold?”
“A little, sir.”
“Well there is no blanket immediately available, but perhaps you could move closer and put your pretty head on my lap. You must promise not to begin crying again, though.”
“Uh…yes, sir,” Krissy responded. “Thank you, sir.” She edged closer to him and laid her head on his thigh. It was marginally warmer that way, but she kept worrying what ideas he might get, what with her mouth so close to his…she shivered again. This time she couldn’t seem to stop it. In a little while her teeth were chattering.
“Are you still cold, my dear?” the man asked.
“I think so, sir,” Krissy managed to reply. She curled up into a tighter ball, but that didn’t seem to help.
“No, the heat in the car is turned well up,” the man commented. “It must be something else. I think I know what that something else is.”
“S-s-sir?” Krissy stammered.
“Yes. You have been keyed up for a long time, and now that you are finally beginning to relax a little your body is reacting. I have seen this before. It can be a very unpleasant experience. It can even lead to illness.”
“Sir?” Krissy began shivering violently, as if she’d been immersed in cold water. She groaned, hugging herself tightly. It didn’t help. She heard the man bark out some command to the driver. A moment later, she felt a soft, warm blanket being spread over her. The man gently tucked it in around her. That helped. Then her captor began gently stroking her hair. It had a calming effect on her, and he kept doing it until her shivering subsided. It never stopped completely, but after a while it was no more than an occasional tremor. For the first time in days, Krissy felt comfortable. And shortly afterwards she also began to feel sleepy.
“Rest, little Krissy,” the man said to her. “Sleep, if you like. When you awaken it will be to start a whole new life, under my direction. I did some checking into your previous life, my dear. You left a few loose ends with your disappearance, but I have taken care of them. You were quite an accomplished little criminal, you know. The police thought they were looking for three or four different young women, perhaps a well-organized gang of you.” He laughed softly. “Quite impressive, in its way. In a few months, when none of them strikes again, they will slowly lose interest and all of your alter egos will be forgotten.”
Half asleep, Krissy stirred. She wanted to protest, but now she felt so wonderfully warm and comfortable that doing so seemed to be too much trouble.
“There, there,” the man almost crooned. “Just relax. Let sleep take you. We have many miles to go yet, and rest is the best medicine for your bruised little body.” He continued stroking her hair, gently. It felt comforting to her, somehow, as if he’d come and rescued her from that biker gang instead of just picking her up like a package he had left with them for safekeeping. Krissy stirred again, but only to relax a little. One of her feet poked out from under the blanket and she quickly drew it back in with a shiver. She could feel herself drifting away, but at the moment she was pleasantly suspended in that soft, safe place between wakefulness and sleep. She cuddled closer to her captor and murmured again without any attempt to form words. She could feel him, still gently stroking her hair, and it felt good. It felt comforting, even if something about it made her feel uneasy. He had been right. Her time with the bikers had been terrifying and painful. Always on edge, always dreading the next humiliation they would pile on her, or the next rape they would subject her to, she had neither rested nor really slept. Now, in the back seat of this big sedan she felt no immediate threat even though she was naked and helpless in the hands of a truly frightening man. But he didn’t seem to want anything from her right now, and she was pitifully grateful to him for the blanket, even if he had at first lied about it. He could have made her beg for it, but he hadn’t. He didn’t seem like the merciful type, but she didn’t care, so long as she could snuggle under this soft, soft blanket. She drifted peacefully into sleep, where for a while, at least, she was nice and safe and no one could hurt her.
But all things must end. Krissy awoke to find the driver of the car shaking her. Startled and disoriented, she sat up to find that her blanket was gone, and so was her captor. The driver put one big hand on her head and shoved her back down onto the car seat, but not before she could see that they were parked inside a garage.
“You don’t sit up, you don’t stand up, ever, unless you’re told to, bitch,” the driver growled. While he was not as frightening as her captor, he was big and strong and more than scary enough.
“Yes, sir,” Krissy replied without looking at him.
“Good. Keep it in mind. Now crawl on out here, bitch. I’m gonna take you to your room.”
Krissy obediently crawled out of the car onto the garage floor and waited as the driver shut the door behind her.
“Follow me, bitch,” he ordered. He started walking towards a heavy metal door on the far wall. Krissy crept along after him. He opened the door and gestured for her to go through it ahead of him. Krissy hesitated. She could see a dimly lit, carpeted corridor through the doorway, but she couldn’t see, or even guess at what else lay just beyond.
“Move it, bitch,” the driver growled. Krissy was shaking as she obeyed him, even though she kept telling herself that whatever was coming couldn’t be as bad as what she’d already gone through. She was a little way down the corridor when she heard the driver slam the door shut behind them. It had a terribly final sound to it.