21 comments/ 47206 views/ 72 favorites The Great Game Ch. 01 By: RoseMason Push. Push. PUSH. Sweat dripped down Ariel's face. She wiped it aside with her towel and bared down on the pedals beneath her feet. She did this nearly every morning - trading her body's raw power for her mind's peace. She wasn't a professional athlete by any means - a bit too petite, for one thing - but she wasn't too far from peak fitness. She fought for it - not only for her lithe physique, but for the feeling. The feeling that she could handle anything. Anything at all. It didn't last for more than a few hours, but every minute was precious. She stepped off the stationary bike and headed to the showers, walking less like a woman than a goddess. Goddess of Fuck-You-I-Got-This. She hit the showers. Ten minutes later, she was teasing the tangles from her wavy hair, admiring the color. She'd finally gone to a nice salon and gotten the full highlights she'd wanted, transforming her almond locks into a dark blonde cascade. It suited her face. She decided that she was a solid Nine on a good day. Vanity wasn't typically her weakness, but she enjoyed it on the days that it was. She patted on a little foundation and blush. She didn't feel like overdoing it. It was just another day of abuse at the fickle whims of a boss with far more success than he had ever deserved. Money? Check. Benefits? Check. Dignity? Checked at the door. She checked her phone. Running late. She would have to either call a cab or cut through the park. She decided on the latter. She was using this shortcut nearly every other day; the only hassle was cleaning her skirt of the plant debris on the way. She kept her heels in her purse so she could walk comfortably. She cut through the alleys nearby the gym to save a few minutes. She might need to fix her hair before work. She didn't notice that she was being followed. Not until she was on the ground, a soaking cloth pressed firmly against her face. *************** She began to wake as a stiff strap was sharply tightened and clasped over her wrist. Instinctively, she writhed - but each of her wrists and ankles were now tightly fastened to some semblance of an examination table. She had been stripped - her body lay bare beneath a blue cloth barely thicker than tissue paper. Hair tied back, feet resting in stirrups. The air was chill and smelled of sanitizers. She shivered at the cool flow over her opening. A figure to her left rested a gloved hand on her cheek. She squirmed. "Shhhhh," he said. "Deep breaths." His face was smooth and chiseled, brown eyes soft. "What's happening?" she squeaked. Her memory was shot. Had she gone to the gym? To work? "Just a quick exam. Any discomfort?" "My head hurts. And my shoulder, I guess? A little. What happened?" "Relaxing will help. Do you have any medical conditions? On any medications?" He gently nudged an otoscope into one ear after the other, moving at a brisk pace. "No, I don't think so?" She tried to remember. Fog of mind. A sweet, soapy taste on her tongue. Her throat felt raw. "Please tell me what happened." Panic crept in. "You've got a few minor head contusions, but you'll be no worse for the wear. Open, please." A pen light shone down into her throat. "I need to check your eyes for any signs of concussion. The harsh light blotted out his face. "Look to the left... to the right... up, down... very good." "Why am I restrained? Where are my clothes? Am I hurt somewhere else?" His smile was paternal. "You're okay. Just a few more things to check off the list before we can get you out of here." She lurched up as a gloved hand migrated under the sheet, cool metal and fingers grazing her breast. "Just checking your heart rate. Deep breath in. Good. And out. Gooood. One more time. In, out." "Does my family know I'm here? Peter?" "I'm sure we've already spoken with your emergency contact. Blood sample next." He turned away briefly. Her eyes widened at the sharp glint of a hypodermic needle. She whimpered involuntarily. "Do I really need that?" She felt faint. "Afraid of needles?" He smiled softly as he turned back to her. "It's okay. I'm very, very good at this. If you hold nice and still, you'll barely feel it. I promise." She squeezed her eyes shut as the wetted gauze brushed her arm. She wasn't afraid of needles. She was terrified of them. "You have a nice vein right here. We're very nearly done." A pinch, a pull. She felt nauseous. "There we go. Not so bad?" Her heart was thunderous. "Can I go now?" He wrapped a label over a pair of blood-filled vials. "One last thing, and you're good to go." He walked briskly toward the end of the table and stood between her legs. Oh, god. He had a speculum. "What do you need THAT for? I don't need that!" she squealed. He leaned in, and she fought the restraints. "Why are you doing this?" His voice was stern for the first time. "You've been a very good girl so far. You want to ruin it now?" And softer: "If you relax, this won't be uncomfortable." "NO!" She desperately tugged at the straps, streamlining her fingers to try to slip free. His fingertips were suddenly at her opening, gently applying a thick layer of cold lubricant. "Stop! STOP!" She tried to tighten her muscles, but the speculum slid in with little resistance. She felt herself suddenly spread wide. "Please. Please. Please." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. His light shone in. "Hmmm. IUD. Are you sexually active?" She barely heard him. Her skin was alive with panic, all other senses muted. Her inserted a swab, gently pressed the sides of her walls, and set it aside. The speculum slid out. "I'm going to remove it, now. Little pressure, that's all." She felt a firm tugging on her insides, then nothing. "Done." "Let me go. Please," she whispered. The tears flowed freely, now. Two lubricated fingers slid into her pulsing feminine. She squeaked when his thumb began to press against her rosebud. A new violation. "Push," he said soothingly, as his thumb breached her tight anal passage. She didn't. But in it went, probing her firmly. She tugged at her bonds with fresh vigor, shouting obscenities at him. "Fucking MONSTER! STOP!" He massaged his fingers and thumb, feeling out the flesh between them. "Easy now," he said. "I'm not coming out until you relax." "STOP! STOP!" She choked the screams coming through her burning throat, coughing violently. She tried to catch her own breath without giving him an ounce of her cooperation, but the tension ceased and he was removing his fingers within a few moments. "We're finished. Good girl...mostly." He winked, removing one glove after the other with a soft snap. "What happens now?" she demanded. "Now you're going downstairs. You'll need to take something first. Pill or shot, your choice." "I'm not going ANYWHERE with YOU! Get away from me!" Her teeth were bared, a big fuck-you written all over her face. "If it's going to be like that, you can have the shot. Sure you don't want to behave?" "Don't you fucking dare," she spat. Another needle slid through the lid of a tiny opaque bottle. "Well, we'll see if that attitude helps you any down there," he said pleasantly, swabbing her arm near the previous site. The tears finally overwhelmed her. "Oh god, PLEASE. Please stop." "Shhhhhh," he chided. "It's just about over." He expertly pinned her arm to counteract her struggles, and the needle slid in. "I'll be watching you, little one." His voice was fading with the light. "You're quite the firecracker, aren't..." Black. *************** She was laid flat on the floor, head spinning. She was still naked, save for something around her neck. Her fingers wandered over it - a collar. Thick leather, maybe two inches wide, with a sturdy metal ring and a clasp secured by a tiny padlock. Fuck. She tried to hoist herself onto her knees, but her muscles shook with weakness. It took her a few minutes to sit upright. She was in the middle of a hallway - whitewashed concrete floor, walls a shining alabaster white. Ahead of her, the hall hooked right. Behind her, it split off in two directions. A huge blue number - "8" - was printed on the wall a few meters away, next to what looked like elevator doors matching the walls. No buttons, no knobs. She wanted to scream out for help, but what were the odds that anyone who actually wanted to help her was out there? As her strength began to return to her, she walked up to the doors and timidly pressed her hands to them. She felt out the edges; tried to pry them open, but she had no leverage aside from what her fingernails could provide. She walked back, behind where she had lain, and took a left. Better to head in a direction that would allow her to turn back and meet an intersection, in case she needed to try to lose a tail. More sparkling hallway. The light streamed down from broad bulbs fitted in shallow alcoves in the ceiling above. No windows. She tried to ignore the panicked clenching of her gut. She met another intersection and turned left again. The scenery didn't change much. Another blue "8" on the wall, but nothing of note otherwise. Her gut twisted. Suddenly, a tinny female voice echoed all around her: "Food in seven. Miscellaneous in twelve. Next delivery in three hours." What? It sounded like a recording. A few seconds later, a chirp and a second recorded message: "One subject in one. Zero subjects in two..." "HELLO?" She screamed. "Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me?" "... One subject in four. Zero subjects in five. Two subjects in six. Six subjects in seven. Four subjects in eight..." Is that where she was? Probably. Was she a 'subject'? Were there other people nearby? Suddenly, she didn't want to scream any more. "... One subject in eleven. Five subjects in twelve. Zero subjects in thirteen. One subject in fourteen. Zero subjects in fifteen. Seven subjects in sixteen." She kept walking. What else could she do? There was no deviation in her surroundings as she pressed on, turning left or right as the hallways permitted. She chose at random when presented with more than one option. More lights, more sealed elevator-style doors, more blue eights on the walls. She turned a corner and found a little alcove with a toilet and a sink jutting from the wall. No door, no screen - totally exposed. Great. She pressed the button on the faucet to wash her hands. Liquid soap was provided in a metal dispenser attached to the wall. She scrubbed and rinsed well, then pressed the button again and cupped her hands under the flow so she could drink. She hadn't realize how thirsty she was. She pressed the button again and again, sucking the cool water down greedily. Out of nowhere, footsteps rocketed down the hall. She jerked up and instinctively braced herself. A girl - twenty years old? Twenty-five? - turned the corner and bolted past her, long strawberry-blonde hair flowing in her wake. She was barefoot and dressed only in an oversized white t-shirt and panties. And a collar. She stared back at Ariel for a half-second, eyes wide, but kept on sprinting. A second set of footsteps echoed down the hall behind her. Ariel took off after the girl, adrenaline pulsing, terrified to meet whoever or whatever she was running from. Left, right, right, left. The girl ahead was faster than she was in this unfamiliar, weakened state, and she had no idea whether she was still headed in the same direction. But she could still hear the footfalls behind her, and with a sickening drop in her stomach, Ariel realized that she was the one now being pursued. The steps gained on her, louder and louder. She fought the urge to lose precious seconds by glancing back. Her muscles were still too weak. She was losing too much time on her turns. Far too much. The steps were just behind her, now. She screamed as a firm grip enclosed her wrist. She spun, swinging her free fist wildly. It was a man. Very tall, maybe late twenties, dark chocolate hair, icy eyes. Muscular. Strong. He grabbed her by the hair with his free hand and painfully forced her head back. She tried to keep swinging, but nothing was connecting. She wasn't able to access her usual strength or dexterity, and she didn't know the first thing about fighting. "Quiet. Right now," he said. His voice was deep and unsettlingly calm. "HELP! Please help me! PLEASE!" She screamed. He deftly spun her around and pulled her body against his, pressing her captured wrist against her belly so her back was forced against his chest. He was shirtless, wearing only olive cargo pants. He released his grip on her hair and clasped his hand over her mouth. She tried to scream through his fingers. He clamped his thumb and forefinger on either side of her nose, cutting off her breath. "You will calm down and be quiet, or I will hold you like this until you pass out. Nod if you're ready to play nice." She nodded and he released her nostrils, hand still over her lips. She breathed heavily, unable to calm herself sufficiently. "Here's what's going to happen. We're going to sit down together, just like this. And you're going to give me your other hand. You will do this, or it's going to hurt." He began to lower her to the floor. She tried to keep her feet flat on the floor, but he pulled her off balance. "Give me your hand." She offered it to him, and he moved his hand from her face to grab it. Moving quickly, he pressed her wrists together. He took them in one hand and pulled the other back, feeling for something in the large pocket along the side of his pants. There was an opportunity, and she reacted. She scrambled forward as he tried to get a firmer grip, trying to get on her feet. Almost immediately, he was on top of her, slamming her down against the concrete floor. She could feel his thickening bulge against her skin, through his pants. She struggled hard and bit down on his arm so hard she tasted blood. He growled and struck her against the side of her head. Hard, but with an open palm. "This isn't how it works, sweetheart." His knee was pressed painfully into her back. He was forcing the side of her face firmly against the floor, reaching back once again to his pocket. His hand returned with a few lengths of camping rope. In the time it took her to blink the sweat out of her eyes, he had her by the wrists and was expertly tying them together behind her back. "I'm sorry," she whispered. He was breathing heavily. "I'm sure you are, now that you're halfway to hogtied." He slipped a new cut of rope through the ring in her collar, knotting it several times over. He wrapped the free end around his palm to enhance his grip. He slid off of her back, grabbing a flask from the other side of his pants. She laid still. She wasn't going anywhere. He knew it, she knew it. He leaned against the wall and drank. His angered expression softened at the edges as the surprise of her counter-attack faded. "You're a pretty little thing," he said, sighing. She tried to be silent. She was crying, but she didn't want to make it obvious. He leaned over and wiped the tears from her exposed cheek. "It's alright, pretty girl. I'm not going to hurt you now." He poured a little water over the seeping bite wounds on his arm. "You almost got a chunk of me, didn't you?" "I'm sorry," she whispered again. "You're going to clean that up for me when we get back to camp. And we'll see if you can't come up with a way to make it right." He returned the flask and spare rope to his pockets, standing. "Alright, pretty girl, up we go." She began to rise, eyes lowered. She would have given up anything just to be able to cover up her nudity. She was cold, and her nipples embarrassingly firm. With her hands behind her back, there was no hiding it. Any of it. Sweat and slick clung to the little patch of pubic hair between her legs, which she tried to keep closed as she stood. She smelled of sex. She hated that she'd reacted that way to the feel of his hardness against her. She was flooded with shame. He was calm. "We're going to walk back now, and we're going to go over the rules. Ready?" Tears continued to leak down her face. He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her eyes and then gently lifting her chin. He held her there until she made eye contact with him. His eyes were an almost-ghostlike blue. "I need a 'yes,' from you." "Okay," she said. "Yes." Time to play nice. They began to walk. She noticed that the blue eights on the walls had been replaced by equally-large orange twelves. "Rule one: do as I say. We're already looking for improvement on that one. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Rule two: Quiet. No shouting, no crying out. Speak quietly while we're out here. Got it?" "Yes," she said - quietly. "Rule three: If we get into an altercation up ahead, you're going to sit down by the wall and wait until I've taken care of it. Okay?" "Okay." "Rule four: I ask you something, you give me the answer. Do not lie to me." "Yes." "Okay. How long since you got here?" She hesitated. "I don't know, maybe an hour. I can't think straight right now." "Yes, you're still a bit drugged. Your strides were off. What's your name?" She tried to think of one, but her hesitation was clear. "Your real name. Now, pretty girl." She told him. It wasn't worth the lie. "Good girl." She bit her lip. "Do I get to know your name?" "Can you ask nicely?" Quietly, she tried again: "May I know your name?" "Gunner." He paused. "We're going to be quiet for a little bit now, pretty girl. Step lightly for me." They walked on in silence. Turn after turn. Elevator doors, twelves, toilets and sinks, white walls. At one point, the speaker system chirped on again. Gunner stopped walking, his expression attentive. "Food in seven. Miscellaneous in twelve. Next delivery in two hours." And then more numbers were recited, as they had been before. Later, footsteps were evident in the distance. Gunner considered the path ahead and avoided them. Eventually, the orange twelves gave way to blood-red sixteens. Gunner was being less cautious, now. He seemed to know the way well. He remained alert. Ariel's stomach began to growl. He turned around and brushed his fingers over her stomach. She flinched. "Are you hungry, pretty girl?" He rubbed his fingertips in a circular motion over her soft skin. "Mmmhmm," she mumbled. "We're close now. I'll feed you soon. You'll feel much better once you've eaten." On they walked. She wanted to ask where they were headed, but she thought better of it. Her heart rate rose when another man appeared ahead. He was standing at the next corner, leaning against the back wall. He was thick with muscle. About Gunner's height, with thick hair the color of light sandalwood. The man was aggressively alert as they came into view, but eased up as Gunner's features became apparent. A barely-apparent frown crossed his face. "I see that you didn't catch Kate." Gunner shrugged. "I'm not exactly returning empty-handed." "Kate was mine. Did you even try?" Gunner's voice came a little sharper, this time. "Of course I did. This one just arrived. Still a little drugged up when I found her. Kate had already made it to eight by the time I started to catch up with her, and she'd had a chance to rest. I caught the one I could catch." The other man did not seem satisfied. Both men were bristling. The speakers came on again. Both men listened. Ariel kept her eyes locked on them. "We'll find Kate. You know I'm more than happy to bring her back personally." Gunner stepped forward and to the side a bit, subtly positioning himself in front of Ariel. "It doesn't look like you're offering a replacement." The Great Game Ch. 01 "Like you would want to replace Kate," Gunner retorted. "You've got a soft spot for her. And we both know I'm the one short, as it stands. You've still got two, and Kate is a temporary problem." The sandalwood-haired man finally nodded. "It looks like this one got her teeth on you." Gunner smiled. "She's a scrappy little one." "Get her settled. We've got an hour." Gunner nodded. "Here we go, pretty girl." As the two walked past the other man, his eyes ran up and down Ariel's naked form. His hazel eyes were sharp as knives, and she felt as though she were being dissected by them. On the other side of the corner, everything was different. The hall was full of stuff - tins of food stacked neatly on one side, folded clothing and a variety of other supplies on the other. A line of camping rope with drying laundry spanned the distance between. Pillows, cushions, and blankets adorned the floor. There was a canvas tent set up on the middle of it all, with just enough space to squeeze past. And there were other women - a couple walking freely, at least one other leashed to a long chain around the toilet at the far end of the crowded hall. She couldn't tell how many were here, with the tent obscuring her view. One of the free women spotted Gunner and Ariel and smiled softly. She was of Asian heritage, with a tiny frame and straight, shining black hair. She was practically swimming in an XL red t-shirt. "Gunner! Heyo! Who's this?" Gunner smiled back. "New arrival. Ariel, meet Elle." Ariel was completely overwhelmed. Broken down and exhausted. She tried to smile. It couldn't have looked good. Elle looked sympathetic. "Aww, look at her. She just got here today?" Gunner nodded. She looked back to Ariel. "I'll get you some nice clean clothes, 'kay? I know, girl, it's rough out there. You're lucky you're right here." She started sifting through one of the stacks of garments. "Can I sit down?" Ariel asked. She was so tired. The bruises on her head were throbbing. Gunner gestured to a fluffy pile of pillows nearby. She collapsed onto them. Elle brought over a pair of non-descript panties and a pink t-shirt that was much too large. She apologized - "they're all too big here, though!" - and then gasped, noticing Gunner's wounds. "Eep. Can I clean that up for you?" "No, Elle." Gunner looked to Ariel, still naked and draped over the pillows like a sunbathing cat. "She made them, and she's going to take care of them." Elle looked a little angry. "Is she going to be trouble?" "I don't think so. She's like all the new ones. She doesn't know the score, yet." The other girl who'd been wandering freely smiled behind a veil of long-cut auburn bangs. "Girl after my own heart, then." Gunner looked over. "That's enough, Ash. Sit." The auburn girl obeyed, frowning. Elle was pulling out a first aid kit. "Can I get you some food? Water?" Gunner took the kit from her. "Ariel and I need some time to get settled. We'll be in the tent until the runner leaves. Is it David or Sam this time?" Elle nodded. "David again. He wants to look for Kate. Hopefully the supply drop is near the green zone. We're still doing more than well enough for food. Batteries and medical would sure be nice, though. Can I be of any other service at all?" "No, that'll be all." Gunner looked to Ash. "You could learn from Elle, darling." Ash looked straight at him and tilted her head, batting her eyelashes. "Can I be of any other service at all?" she mimicked. Elle rolled her eyes. "Yes. You can clean the facilities. Now." She narrowed her eyes at him, but then she stood and headed over to the toilet. When Ariel looked up next, Gunner was standing over her. He looked concerned. "You don't look well, pretty girl." He bent down and gently lifted her. She was unsteady on her feet, nearly rolling her ankle. Gunner swept up her legs with one arm and held her against his chest. She bit her lip and refused to make contact with his icy eyes. She felt a bit safer - even comforted - with him holding her this way. And she loathed that. She loathed even moreso the feeling that he could tell. He leaned his head down and inhaled the fragrance of her hair. She startled a bit when he pressed his lips to her forehead and kissed her softly. "It's alright, now," he cooed. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" "Yes," she admitted quietly. He carried her across the hall. The girls on the chains moved out of his way without a word. Ariel could see now that there were three of them - a brunette and two blondes. Ash was on her hands and knees, scrubbing at the toilet with a bristled brush. She got up and walked off with a little huff. Gunner set Ariel down on the open toilet seat. With a smile: "I'm going to give you a little privacy." He walked over to one of the chained girls - the tall, lanky brunette who was sitting a short distance away. He touched her neck. She jerked away from him. She was fully nude, with full but small breasts and a thin figure. Very little muscle or fat on her. He whispered something to her and caressed her breast. She looked away from him. Ariel was finding it very difficult to go with so much exposure. She tried to relax, and finally she released a slow trickle. By the time she had finished, Gunner had the brunette laid out over his lap. He was massaging her neck and scalp. She expression was unreadable, but she wasn't resisting his touch. He whispered to her, and she sat up and turned away from him. He returned to Ariel. She looked up at him. "Can you please let my hands free so I can wipe myself?" "Sorry, pretty girl. I'll take care of it this time." He reached for a pile of neatly-folded cloth rags on a towel by the sink. "No!" She said, shocked. "What was that?" He towered over her. "Please let me wipe myself." She tried to look especially pitiful, her eyes pleading. But he was having none of it. He wet the rag from the faucet. "Stand." She did as she was told, thighs pressed together. "Spread your legs." "Please let me-" "Spread your legs." She obeyed, turning her red face away. "'No' is not a part of your new vocabulary," he said, carefully wiping her from front to back. Her legs quaked with his touch, but she wasn't giving him any more tears. He wetted a second square of cloth and went over her again, this time with more attention to detail. She could feel herself becoming slick as the soft cloth teased her folds. She silently prayed that he wouldn't notice. He tossed both used rags into a wicker basket on the opposite side of the toilet, and washed his hands thoroughly. Ariel was still red in the cheeks, looking away. She didn't fight him when he lifted her up into his arms once again. He carried her to the tent, ducked inside, and laid her down carefully on a plush blanket. He brushed the hair out of her eyes before exiting the tent and returning with her new clothes, a couple of food tins and the first aid kit. He took the end of her makeshift leash and skillfully knotted it a couple of times over one of the bars supporting the tent, giving her a couple meters of slack. "I'm going to untie your hands, now. Be good." He worked quickly. Her wrists were sore. She flexed them once they were free and stretched her shoulders. He looked at her expectantly. "Thank you," she said sharply. "You're welcome," he replied, his voice smooth. He handed her the flask from his pocket. She gulped down every last drop of the lukewarm water, a little stream of it running down her chin. He pulled the lid from one of the aluminum food tins and handed it to her. It looked terrible, but she was weak with hunger. "We don't have any utensils, but there's a little basin over there for you to wash your hands in once you're finished," he said. She scooped out little handfuls of some kind of meaty lasagna-style brick with her fingers and ate quickly. She couldn't handle much. "Have a little more," Gunner urged. "Please don't make me. Please. I don't think I can." She looked exhausted, and he yielded. She washed her hands with the water in the basin and a little bar of soap sitting nearby. Gunner opened the first aid kit and handed her a bottle of hand sanitizer. "Use that, then spray the disinfectant..." he guided her through the process step by step, though she knew well how to handle such a basic medical situation. The wounds weren't deep. They were bandaged within a minute or so. The speakers blared. "Food in nine. Miscellaneous in three. Next delivery in fourteen hours." Chirp. "Zero subjects in one. Two subjects in two..." The broadcast continued. Gunner leaned back on a short pile of cushions and stroked her hair until the announcement ended. The sandalwood-haired man appeared at the entrance to the tent shortly thereafter. "David," Gunner spoke. "You're running this one?" "Yes. The supply drop is in three; I'll hang back around the four-side and see if Kate decides to stock up. Hopefully she hasn't run into the green zone girls. Or anyone else, for that matter." "Good luck," Gunner offered, sounding sincere. "Sam looks like he has it covered, but keep an ear out. The drop offs are out of the way, but you never know." David waited for a nod from Gunner, then took off at a fast jog. Ariel desperately wished she understood what was going on around her. She could handle a lot, but a lack of understanding - that was tough for her. Gunner went back to stroking her wavy locks. "You're processing a lot right now, so I'm going to hold off on explaining all of this. But if you lay right here..." - he looked to his shoulder - "... I'll give you the short version." She wasn't sure whether that constituted an order. "May I please put some clothes on first?" He smiled. "No," he said, his tone jovial. Curiosity got the best of her. She rested her head hesitantly onto his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her bare waist. She tried to ignore it. "Good girl," he cooed. "The announcements begin one hour before the first drop off of the day and end one hour after the last. We get one each hour in between. They let us know which sector they'll be dropping off the food in, and where all the other essentials will be - batteries for the flashlights, clothing, and so on. It's a little bit different every time, so we never know when we'll be getting lucky." "Who drops off the food?" "Whitecoats. There isn't much we know about them - presumably, they're the ones who put us here. You don't really want to be around when they make the drops - they don't like to interact with us, and they've always got a few well-armed blackcoats with them." He stared intensely into her eyes. "If you ever see them - nice big vests with a round logo - you will run away from them. Yes?" He spoke louder than usual, his voice very stern. She nodded. "You shouldn't see them. Ever. You'll be staying here, and this isn't anywhere near the drop off point in sixteen." He exhaled. "We have a good food stock. We don't usually go after the food, and when we do, we aim to get there first and grab the non-perishables. We make the supply drops whenever it makes sense to. If they announce a lot of others in fifteen or twelve - the adjacent sectors - we stay here and focus on defense." "What's the point of all this?" Ariel was never the patient type. Gunner looked concerned. "You will not like this part." She lifted her head up. "I don't like any of the parts." "Shhh. Lay down. I want you to try to calm down for a minute." She obeyed, slowing her breathing. He inhaled slowly. "When you arrived here, did anyone explain anything to you about the game?" "The game?" "That's what I thought. When they introduce a new woman, they don't give any instructions for the game. That's not the case for the men." "This is a game?" She tried not to balk at the thought too noticeably. Calm. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. "When we arrived here - not together, one by one, like you - we were each examined and then given the rules. Some of them, at least. We don't know why this has been constructed or for whom, but we do know what we're supposed to be doing. And we know the consequences for not doing it." "What are the rules?" "Tell me you're calm." "I'm calm." "Get calmer." She appeased him, closing her eyes and taking more measured breaths as she worked her way through a hastily shortened self-guided meditation. She opened her eyes. "I'm calm," she said, her voice smooth. "Better," he said. He tried to keep his voice as soothing as possible. "We're here to 'mate' as many times as possible with as many of the women as possible." Her eyes bulged. He gave her a moment to fully absorb the words. "'Mate' is their word, not mine. Fuck a lot, fuck a little, it all gets added up - points for each day you do, points for each woman you do, points for keeping those women to yourself - the longer the better." He paused. "Points for pregnancy. There are cameras, bugs everywhere. In all the light fixtures, and it's anybody's guess where else. Recording, tracking, tallying." She turned away from him. He tried to turn her face gently toward him with his hand, but she fought to keep it where it was. He didn't push her. Her voice was trembling a little, now. "Are you here voluntarily?" "No," he said firmly. "Neither are David and Sam. Some of the others are." "How many others?" "There are seven. They keep the total at ten. And twenty-four women. As far as we can tell, none of them are here of their own volition. At least two of the men are." She was crying again. He held her close by her waist and rubbed his fingers over her arm. She choked back her tears. "What happens if you don't... if you don't do what you're supposed to do?" "They replace the lowest-scoring male once every 30 days or so. Sometimes it takes them a little longer to corner one of them. They sedate him and take him with them. They shoot if they can't get him down." "How long have you been here?" She asked quietly. "Four months. David and Sam were in the original batch - they've been here five." "How long do you have to stay?" "We don't know." "What happens... with the pregnancies?" "We don't know." "Is anyone here already pregnant?" "Elle stopped menstruating a couple months ago. We suspect Lily - one of the blondes out there. And Kate, but she's not here now. Ash is trying." "She's trying?" Ariel couldn't comprehend it. "She thinks they'll let her go. There haven't been any births yet. We don't know what they'll do." They were both quiet for a couple of minutes. Ariel spoke first. "Why am I here now? Why not five months ago?" "They replace the women when one of them dies." She choked down panic. "How often does that happen?" "Sometimes. A few have died trying to fight off the men. One had some kind of heart condition. Whitecoats must have missed it during the physical." "Suicide?" she asked bluntly. "Sometimes." That was all he would say. He pulled her closer and kissed her shoulder. "No more questions tonight." Outside the tent, the lights were dimming. The speakers chirped. Ariel wasn't listening. Too tired, too overwhelmed. Gunner leaned in close. "I won't make you do it tonight," he whispered. A long pause. "Please don't make me go with the others," she said quietly. "Never. Only with me." He held her gently until she drifted off. *************** She woke up with a start. All was dark. Only a few beams of light outside the tent. Gunner was gone. She couldn't see anything around her. She reached up to her collar until she found the rope. She slowly traced it back to the exposed bar she'd been moored to. She didn't know knots. And these were complicated. And she couldn't see. But she had to try. She worked her fingers around the spot where the loose end hung. How much time was passing? Five minutes? Ten? She kept working. Bit by bit, the knots came loose. She didn't bother with the knots around the ring of her collar. Better to just take the rope with her. She thought about feeling around for the clothing that had been left for her, but what if Gunner was curled up somewhere at the edge of the tent? Silently, she crept out of the tent. One step at a time. She decided to head back in the direction she'd come from. Maybe she'd remember something important. And there were more flashlights positioned on the other side, where the girls laid chained. She slowly moved forward. One toe in front of the other, careful to not trip on anything. Ahead of her, a flashlight sent a beam against the far wall. A woman's form was nestled on the pillow with the flashlight. It looked vaguely like Elle. Ariel couldn't tell if she was sleeping. Ariel was out of view now, but she wouldn't be if she crossed that beam. It was impossible to go around the light source if Elle happened to be awake - and she didn't think she could do it without waking her, either. She wasn't about to throw this opportunity away. She would run through the beam. And she would just keep running, as quietly as possible. It took her a minute to mentally prepare for it. And then she ran. Through the beam of soft, yellow light. She ran into the clothes hanging from the line, but they didn't stop her. Nearly tripped on a cushion, but found her footing. Thud! She hit the wall hard. Turned left, kept running. Kept running right on into a man, creeping in the shadows. She panicked, but tried to run past him. He swung a leg under her, and she crashed to the ground. He had her pinned within three seconds. A flashlight clicked on, inches from her face. "Gunner's new girl. He hasn't even touched you yet, and you're ready to go follow Kate out there?" It was David's voice. He was angry. Very angry. "I should let you go." She squirmed. He leaned forward, putting his full body weight on top of her. She could barely breathe. "Here's how that would go: You'd make it to eleven. Maybe even ten. And then one of those sick fucks would beat you bloody and rape you until you couldn't walk. Maybe keep going with something like this flashlight when he was done, just for the hell of it. Maybe leave you for dead. Maybe keep you. Maybe trade you to the next one for whatever he wanted out there." Another beam was approaching from within the camp. David flicked beam toward it. It was Elle. "What happened?" she asked, bleary-eyed. "Where's Gunner? His new girl made a run for it." She looked sad. Deeply sad. "He took over for Sam so he could get some sleep - I think he's coming now." More light. There he was. His face was like stone. David stood and handed over the makeshift leash that was still attached firmly to Ariel's collar. "Deal with it," he spat. Gunner didn't say anything. He led her roughly into the tent and quickly tied her to the exposed bar with a single, simple knot. He hung his flashlight nearby, dimly illuminating most of the space inside the tent. "Get on the floor," he said, his voice acidic. "I'm sorry," she squeaked. "Then show me," he growled. She sat. "On your hands and knees." She shifted into position, eyes watering. He grabbed the hair above the nape of her neck and roughly forced her face down against the blanketed floor. He leaned back and spanked her so hard she nearly collapsed. She squealed. "Hands and knees. I don't want to hear a sound out of you." She got back into position, arms shaking. Over and over he spanked her. She thought she might pass out from the pain. She had no idea that this could be done with only a hand. She fell over twice, and twice she returned to the position without needing the command. Her whole body was shaking violently. The Great Game Ch. 01 Gunner sat. He pulled her into his lap and wiped away her tears. "If you have to be afraid of me to do as you're told, so be it. Was it not obvious that I'm trying to protect you? That I want to take care of you?" "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "How many times have you said that today? Why? Only to avoid punishment." "I am," she begged. "I am sorry." "I'm sorry," he said back to her. "Obviously I was mistaken in thinking you wouldn't need a firmer hand." He gently moved her to the side of his lap and stood. "On your knees. Remove my pants," he said. "Please..." "Take them off." She sat up and unbuttoned his fly. He was starting to get hard. She slid the cargo pants down to his ankles, and he stepped out of them. "Now my boxers." She started pulling the waistband down behind him. Then in front. By the time his cocked emerged from them, it was massive and swollen. She pulled the underwear down to his ankles and held them so he could get his feet out more easily. "Suck." She was horrified. But she was even more horrified of having to be told twice. She brought her quivering lips up to his length and licked him, timidly. Then again. She tried to take him into her mouth, but her small jaw could only accommodate his girth a little past the head. She felt his strong hands in her hair, gently urging her on. The caress of his fingers against her scalp began to moisten the dryness between her legs. She was able to bring him a little further into her mouth, but not by much. "Go get the lubricant. It's on the right side of the basin." She found the plastic bottle and crawled back to him. "Apply it." She squeezed a large portion into her hands and brought them up to his throbbing manhood. He let her take her time working it over his flesh. "You belong to me, Ariel. Say it back to me." "I belong to you, Gunner." She choked out the words. "You're mine to use. Say it back." "I'm yours to use." "Only mine." "Only yours." "I will protect you. And cherish you. But you will always be mine." "You will protect me, and cherish me... but I will always be yours." "From this day until your last." "From this day until my last." He knelt down in front of her. "Kiss me," he ordered. She brought her lips to his, and he opened them and took her mouth deeply. "Lay down on your back. Offer yourself to me." He spoke softly, but firmly. She lay down for him, knees spread. He lifted her head with one hand and slipped a pillow underneath with the other. "Relax." He massaged her legs for a few moments, until they stopped shaking. "I won't hurt you," he said quietly. She felt his fingers probing against her opening. "That's not how I'm going to bond you to me. Not with pain." He gently slid one inside. She wasn't dripping yet, but she was wet. He slid a second finger inside, slowly stroking, coaxing out her wetness. He removed his fingers and coated them with another generous serving of lube. He focused on coating her vulva and the first inch of her passage. He inched forward and lined up his enormous, pulsing cock. "You're going to look into my eyes while I do this. Don't look away, pretty girl." She looked at him with frightened eyes. His voice was so tender. "They are just words until we make the bond. We're going to do that now. Don't be afraid. Stay with me." He spread her knees further with his hands. She felt his pressure against her quivering wetness. Her body opened to him gratefully. Her mind resisted. Her flesh did not. She squeezed her eyes shut as he gained the first inch. "Look at me." She opened them and stared into the icy nether as it stared into her. She couldn't look away. Another inch. So slowly. He was training her body for the unique shape of his, and her mind for the shape of his dominance. Another. She was beginning to soak the blanket beneath them. Another. He leaned carefully forward and kissed her skin, just beneath the breast. Never losing eye contact. Another. The kisses trailed up to her swollen nipple. Another. He wrapped his soft lips around it and suckled. Eyes still locked with hers. She gasped. Felt her body tilting involuntarily toward him, wanting more. He was almost to her most sacred space. There. He gently butted her cervix. The slightest pain. He withdrew. In and out, thrusting gently. His hardness and her softness, becoming a living machine. More. Wetter, rougher, faster. Time stretched and contracted to the rhythm of his thrusts. She could barely focus. His fingertips found their way to her clit, expertly applying the movements with a feather touch. A little firmer. Then firmer still. She bucked against him, soft moans escaping clasped lips. Eyelids beginning to flicker. "Not yet," he cooed. "Almost. Stay with me." In and out. She didn't think she could hold it back. "Eyes on me." They were. "You belong to me, now. Come for me." He rubbed her in just the way her body had been singing to him, just as he thrust in to the hilt. He grabbed her chin as her head lolled back. He brought her gaze back to his as the contractions began. He thrust once more into her throbbing hearth, deeper than he'd been able to go before. He grunted as his seed exploded forth. Again and again. A few more gentle thrusts. He fell into her arms as he began to soften. He remained inside her, sealing his essence in. They slowly recovered. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm sorry I bit you. I'm sorry I ran from you." Her words were truer than they had been before. "You're forgiven, my sweet girl." He caressed her body with a protector's touch. "I'm still afraid," she whispered. "I'll guide you away from it," he said. "It will take time." The lights outside had flicked on at their dimmest setting, mimicking the early sunrise. He stood. "I'm sorry that I have to do this," he said, sighing. He untied his simple knot and led her outside the tent, to the women sleeping peacefully in chains. He made her a little nest of pillows and wrapped her in a blanket within it. David had already secured a new chain around the toilet. Gunner had the padlock in his pocket. He twisted the key to unlock it and secured it around the end of the chain and the ring of Ariel's collar as she lay there, submitting. She looked away from him as he did it. "It's only temporary," he whispered. "Very soon you'll know to stay without it." He stroked her cheek. There she lay, submitting to the touch and bonds of a strange man in a strange place as part of a strange game she couldn't begin to understand. She didn't recognize herself. "Sleep now," he said. "It'll get better." She couldn't defy him. Not at this point of weakness. As the world grew dark, she didn't even want to.