Author's Note: My first story. Pure fantasy that comes from my creative mind. Let me know if you want a sequel.


I was bored with my life. I went to the gym three days a week and except for that never left the house. One morning I decided to do some dark web browsing for the first time. I mostly found illegal drug sales and illegal pornography until I stumbled onto a slave auction site. It wasn't just any site. People willingly sold themselves.

The first page read: "Are you a lonely, single female? Do you want some love without the need for socializing? Then come to our site and sign up for a Master/Mistress to meet your needs!"

I knew this could be completely false but of course, I clicked "enter" at the bottom of the page. I got another message "Sign up to view the full website" with a link to do so. I clicked it, and it asked my name and address and a photo. I hesitated a little but then put in my address and clicked "sign up". I was then taken to the 'terms and conditions" page. Just wanting to get it over and done with I clicked agree. I then saw my picture with my name below it among hundreds of others. I then immediately closed the browser and my computer feeling very scared. Would my abductor hurt me? Rape me? Would it even be a man? How long would it take them to get here? I then went to watch TV which I did for the rest of the day. I couldn't concentrate. I knew if I was abducted nobody would know I was missing. I had no family I knew of and no close friends. I continued watching TV all day then went to bed unable to sleep. I then heard knocking at the door. I froze in fear. The knocking grew louder and harder. I went to the front door and cautiously opened it. There stood a tall, muscular man. He was bald and wore a leather jacket and jeans. His eyes were cold and lifeless. I tried to talk, but my throat had closed up.

"Turn around and place your hands behind your back," he demanded.

He didn't shout, but his voice sent a chill down my spine. I turned around and tried to run for the back door forgetting I had locked it. As I fumbled with the key, the man grabbed my arm, threw me to the ground and cuffed my hands behind me. He was sitting on top of me. He then strapped a ring gag in my mouth, applied a blindfold then lastly leg irons which were then locked to my handcuffs hog tieing me. I heard the sound of a zip, and I was put into a bag with only my head sticking out. The man grabbed my hair and I was on my knees. I was surprised my abductor didn't tell me to strip.

"You signed up to be a slave. You will do as you're told!" he yelled then spit on my face.

The disgusting glob landed in my mouth and I retched. I then felt myself being carried and I was placed on a floor and I heard a door closing and then a padlock. I heard other muffled cries and then the sound of a truck door closing. The vehicle began to move. I used my head to feel around me and felt bars and realized I was in a cage. The blindfold completely covered my eyes. I cried realizing how stupid I'd been. I was so desperate for a more adventurous life I wasn't thinking straight. The journey seemed to take hours and eventually I had to pee and had to lie in a puddle inside the bag. The truck soon started to stink of human waste. I eventually fell into an uneasy sleep. I woke in the still moving truck. It must now be daylight. There was no fresh air in the back of the truck and I sweated profusely. My tongue was so dry it stuck to my mouth. To add to my misery I then had to shit. My bottom was itchy and I fidgeted in vain trying to scratch it. After what felt like an eternity the truck stopped. I heard the door sliding open and people walking in. I then felt a spray of cold, refreshing water enter my mouth.

"Right guys let's get the slaves on the plane."

I was terrified now. I didn't expect this at all. I thought my abductor would've just put me in the boot of his car, drive me to his home and that would be it. I was then carried for around a minute and tossed into which I assumed was the plane's cargo hold. I felt other squirming bodies all around me. Everyone was screaming and it was mayhem. I was being crushed when other bags were tossed on top of me. I found it hard to breathe. The cargo door was then closed and the plane took off with the hundreds of squirming slaves to an unknown destination. The noise of the engine plus the people's screams were deafening. I was soon sweating inside the bag and still had to sit in the piss and shit from earlier. The flight felt like twelve hours and I'd soiled myself again. After many more hours, I felt the plane finally land. After some time I was carried and put into yet another truck and cage the same as before. After a short journey, I was carried and put on a floor. I was released from the bag, my hogtie was undone and my hands were cuffed above my head. My legs were numb from the long immobilization so my wrists took all of my weight. Someone then took my shoes and socks off and the rest of my clothes were cut off. I shivered. I then felt a metal collar being locked around my neck and a large tag dangling from the front. My blindfold was removed and I blinked in the harsh light. I saw that I was in a shower room with nine other women including me. Two beefy looking men stood in front of us. One of them spoke.

"You will be cleaned here then taken to your cells to wait until further notice."

We screamed when freezing cold water suddenly splashed up from under us. This lasted around five seconds and then more water came from above followed by shampoo which stung my eyes and got into my still wide open mouth. More cold water fell which lasted for a minute. We were then roughly dried and unlocked from the ceiling, our hands were cuffed behind us again and we were taken through a door by the men. In the next room, I was passed to another man who dragged me along a corridor with hundreds of cages full of naked females most of whom were cowering or sleeping. We arrived at an empty cage. My ring gag was removed and I was shoved in and the door was locked behind me. I landed painfully on my knees. The place had a very gloomy feel to it. The floors, wall, and ceiling were cold, grey stones. My cage was about 6x6 feet and had a bucket and a mattress. I sat on it and sobbed. I had been too eager to change my life and had ignored the terms and conditions on the website. I then used the bucket and lay on my mattress and cried myself to sleep. I woke later and two bowls one with pellets and one with water were put through the bars. The men never spoke to us.

"Please what is... aaaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhhh!"

My collar shocked me and I now knew why nobody made a sound. The collars had a noise sensor and shocked us if we spoke. I was very hungry and ate the tasteless pellets and drank the water. I sat back on my mattress. I could see a young girl about eighteen in the cage opposite mine. She was crying quietly. The corridor was as wide as a street so whispering was pointless. I sometimes saw slaves being pulled past my cage but mostly it was eerily quiet. We got one bowl of water and pellets a day and one slave had the duty of emptying the toilet buckets. I counted five days and in that time no one spoke to me.

On the sixth day after breakfast, a man clipped a leash to my collar and dragged me out along with nine others. The corridor seemed to go on for miles and we came to a door at the other end. We were outside and I could see a forest in front of us and ten people men and women armed with rifles. It was cold and I shivered. A man then put some sort of watch on our wrist and unlocked our cuffs. He then spoke.

"These watches have a GPS. You will have a twenty minute lead on your hunters," he was saying. "The hunt will last thirty-six hours from the time you leave here. If you are not caught by the time hunt ends you will be tracked by a helicopter. Check your watches. It is now 7:00 am. Is everyone's watch in agreement?" There were no complaints. "Good. At 7:00 pm tomorrow the hunt will be over. Slaves on the count of three, run! One... two... three go!"

I started running into the deep woods avoiding the obvious path. I checked my watch. 7:05. In fifteen minutes the hunters would be hot on my trail! I took off down the path again, trying to think of what I should do next.

The forest floor presented endless tortures to my soles. Pebbles. Pine cone scales with their sharp needles. Dried branches stabbing into my skin. Soon I was leaving bloody footprints for my pursuers to follow. Oh God! I had to run faster!

It occurred to me that staying on a path would make it easy for the pursuers to follow. But how could I get off the path without leaving an obvious swath through the underbrush? I decided to keep running until my lungs gave out. Surely the hunters would not be running. They had a day and a half to find me. My only hope was to build up enough of a lead to give me time to devise something clever. As opposed to what I was doing now.

I checked my watch. 7:20. My lungs were on fire. I wished I'd have practiced long-distance running more. Of course, this sporting game was entirely unexpected. I wondered if the other women expected this if they had read the terms and conditions. I had no time to contemplate. The hunters were already on their way. I had to stop; my legs were turning to rubber. As my breathing and heart slowed, my concentration sharpened. Watching and listening intently for the slightest hint of approaching hunters, I almost missed the gurgling of water off to the right of the trail. Now I could smell it as well! My spirits soared and I began walking toward the sound.

It's about time I got off these trails, I thought as I picked my way carefully through heavy vegetation, trying not to make my exit from the beaten path too obvious. There seemed to be no painless place I could place my sore feet. I began to think again about how pleasant it would be to find a really concealed place and just curl up to wait out the thirty-six hours of the Hunt. I checked my watch again - 7:22. I then remembered the GPS chip in the watch I had briefly forgotten about. If the Hunt sponsors could find me after the Hunt by honing in on the locator, why not the hunters during the Hunt? The possibility had not been mentioned during our orientation. No wonder the damn watch was locked on. The minute I stopped moving I would be a sitting duck!

Did this mean I'd have to keep running for 36 hours? Didn't the hunters stop for sleep at some time? Where did they sleep? Was there some kind of alarm that let them know when a particular quarry had been stationary a certain length of time?

I felt the sharp edges of panic slicing away at my reason. I wanted to run blindly, fast and furiously, as long as I could, as far as I could.

Suddenly the stream emerged before me. I trotted into it, the cold water shocking me out of my doldrums. I stood, balancing on first one foot then the other, letting the frigid water soothe my injured soles and wash away the blood and dirt. I dropped to my hands and knees, put my lips to the water and drank deeply, amazed at how thirsty I was. I prostrated myself in the shallow stream, enjoying the wash of water past my naked flesh, cooling my body. I spread my legs to let the rushing stream tease the lips to my birth canal and the little pleasure button in its sheath. I began to plot my next move.

UP! UP! UP! I screamed to myself. You can't afford to lie here while the hunters close in! I pushed myself to my feet and glanced around. Where to go from here? The answer seemed obvious. Farther away! If hiding was not an option, I had to go for distance. I had to get as far away from the hunters with dart guns as I possibly could. How far could I travel in two days and a night on sore, bare feet? Could I take time out to sleep? Could I afford not to?

Most of my run, so far, had been in the shelter of the forest canopy. Standing in the cold water of the stream I noticed the sun was considerably hotter on my skin than when I began. Being from Scotland I didn't get much sun. my skin was now pink. I guessed I was somewhere in the southern part of the United States.

I started to walk downstream, the opposite direction from the lodge, and was in immediate pain as my feet encountered the small pebbles and debris that made up its bottom. I then considered just staying here and letting someone find me. But my survival instinct was greater and I wanted to go back to my old lonely life. I looked around. If a hunter spotted my departure from the path into the river, they would surely figure I'd go in this direction rather than head back toward the pursuers. But it couldn't be helped. I could no more go the other way than eat a tree!

I kept an eye out for a place to re-enter the forest without leaving a trace, at the same time wondering why I bothered if they could locate me with the damned chip. But I didn't know for sure they could do that. What kind of evidence was that? Maybe there was some kind of time limit to give the quarry a sporting chance. Maybe I had a certain number of hours to outwit them before they zeroed in on my fucking watch.

Again, that seemed to point to opening up the greatest possible distance. I had to get out of this stream without leaving an obvious trail and head off through the forest without using a path. I eyed a weedy knoll on the far side of the stream and, a little farther down, a boulder jutting into the water from a blackberry patch. I weighed the possibilities. The knoll was closer and the weeds would be less painful to push through than the thorny blackberry bushes, but they would flatten more and might give away my route to a really sharp-eyed hunter. I opted instead to splash downstream and clamber up the boulder and into the punishing blackberry bushes. By carefully spreading them and stepping through the opening, then closing them behind me (while enduring the painful scratching of the thorns), I was able to conceal my entry into the forest. I hoped.

But progress from that point was hardly easy. For one thing, it was a lot slower than on the open trails. Climbing over and scrambling through scrub vegetation and brambles was tough going. My arms, legs, and feet were a mass of scratches, cuts and dried blood. Still, I slogged on. If I could just move fast enough. And long enough. And stay concealed.

By midday I was lathered in sweat, my skin burning with abrasions. After five hours of running, walking, trudging and climbing through endless tangles of undergrowth, including masses of spiny juniper bushes, I was nearing exhaustion. I had begun to dread every footfall on the unforgiving forest floor. On top of all that, my thirst was building up again and the exertion had made me terribly hungry. I was sure the hunters had had a hearty breakfast before setting off, but all we got was a bowl of pellets.

At 1:30 I suddenly stumbled on to the verge of a large meadow of twenty or more acres rambling over three hills. I gazed longingly at the soft grasses, acutely aware of the increasing pain attending each step on the harsh litter of the forest floor. How wonderful it would be to walk across that gentle expanse. Yet I would be completely exposed! If any hunter was hiding in the forest surrounding the field, I would be easy game. I considered walking around the perimeter of the grass so I could duck into the woods, but what good would that do? If I were spotted, I could hardly expect to outrun a hunter through the thick forest in my damaged condition.

I looked behind me. Oh shit! In my exhaustion, I had been neglecting to hide my passage through the undergrowth. I may as well have laid down a trail with spray paint! The hell with it! I would risk a trot across the fields and hope for the best. At least I could put more distance between me and the starting line.

I nearly cried with relief as the cool grass caressed my punctured and bruised feet, but kept a wary eye on the edges of the forest. My naked body felt baked under the hot sun by the time I reached the far side of the fields and re-entered the woods. I cringed as my feet once again encountered cruel torments, but forced myself on.

Then, as suddenly as the fields had appeared, I found myself on a path. The ground was smooth and relatively free of painful debris. I knew I shouldn't stay on it, but the relief was too great. Terrified by my softness, I nevertheless struck out along the path. At least it was headed in the right direction.

By 5:45 exhaustion, dehydration and hunger were causing me to stagger as I alternately walked and jogged. When I came across a stream, I dropped to my hands and knees and drank deeply, splashing water on my face to revive my spirits. There was not the least sign of a hunter or any other human being. I had to keep going until nightfall. Then it would be another full day. I got to my feet and resumed my trot despite my body's painful objections.

As I forced my body onwards, I thought about the other girls, wondering where they had gone in this vast expanse of forest and meadows. Had any of them been caught yet? If so, it enhanced my own chances of survival. The instant the thought came to mind I was engulfed in self-disgust. It was shameful to wish disaster on the others to improve my own odds.

By 6:30 I was struggling to ignore the agony in my lungs, legs, and feet. A training schedule tailored around my work days had simply not prepared me for this endless, naked flight through rough, hilly terrain on a mercilessly hot day with no stops for rest. And all on a mostly empty stomach. I could feel my legs growing weaker. I had to stop soon or I would stumble and collapse. Yet I could not! As long as there was light I had to keep ahead of the hunters.

At 7:15 I came across a dead tree blocking the path. It was a small tree, no more than three inches in diameter and only a foot above the ground. It should have been easy to step over, but my strength was so drained I tripped and crashed to the ground on the other side. I lay there for several minutes weeping in frustration before I could summon the energy to climb back to my feet and struggle on. Half an hour later I banged a toe into a rock and tripped again, this time to the accompaniment of immense pain. I rocked myself on the narrow path, gritting my teeth and hugging my knees to my breast until the pain faded to bearable. I made myself stand up and start walking again, grunting each time the injured foot touched the ground. Had I broken the toe? I hoped if or when I was caught my master or mistress had some sympathy. Or would they laugh at my plight? I didn't stop to think and struggled on.

The sun set at 8:13 and by 8:30 then it was becoming difficult to see. I knew I had to stop. So did the hunters, I hoped. Walking slowly, my legs trembling with exhaustion, my toe aching, I searched the forest on both sides of the path for a place I might lie down and sleep in relative safety and with a minimum of discomfort. I had seen a number of cave-like shelters in hillsides and clumps of boulders in rocky outcroppings that would hide me from view, but they would also present a wall on one side against which I might find myself entrapped. I wanted the option of being able to run from an approaching hunter in any direction. I kept walking, squinting in the dark, moonless gloom.

Finally, I spotted a tall stand of weeds and dense bushes off to the left of the path. It looked feasibly opaque to passing hunters if I were careful to obscure my route to it. I continued up the path until I found a rocky area surrounded by raspberry vines and another ground cover that would not (I hoped) show my exit from the trail. Stepping gingerly onto the rocks and then into the prickly vegetation on the other side I carefully made my way back around to the back side of the tall weeds and bushes. Pulling down just enough of the weeds to make a thin leafy bed over the rocky ground, I nestled down and curled into a ball, shivered from a combination of fear, exhaustion, and exposure to the increasingly cold night air. Every inch of my body ached or itched or both, but I lay still, listening intently for footsteps or telltale rustling in the forest around me. My misery mounted as the minutes dragged by but I forced myself to lie still until exhaustion swept me into sleep.

I slept soundly. Too soundly.

I didn't know what woke me up, but I was instantly alarmed! The sun was up. I glanced at my watch. 9:27! I heard a snort and snapped my head around in the direction of the sound. A man in full hunting garb was sitting cross-legged staring at me with a nasty grin on his face, his dart gun in his lap. A quick glance at my limbs confirmed that I was not tied up. He'd been sitting there waiting for me to wake up! Waiting for me to attempt an escape.

I sprang to my feet and started to sprint away from him, into the weeds. I heard a click and a terrible pain exploded in my back! Suddenly I couldn't exhale! Panicked, I staggered several steps further before another explosion of pain in the back of my right thigh took my leg out from under me. I tried to crawl on my hands and knees, desperately trying to breathe at the same time, but the leg wouldn't work, I had to drag it. My right wrist was then grabbed and yanked up behind my back, the new pain eliciting a scream. Within seconds my assailant grabbed my other wrist as well and quickly lashed both wrists together. Then my ankles. Wracked with pain, barely able to breathe, I was now helpless. I was now nothing more than a sex toy for this dreadful man to rape and torture at will.

The man dug his boot under my ribs and rudely rolled me over on to my back. I glowered up at the man who now owned my body. He was probably in his late thirties, early forties. Athletic build. Black hair salted with grey and beginning to recede at the corners. Eyes dark and merciless. Face filled with the expectation of a fun-filled day. Lips curled up in cruel satisfaction.

"Well, I've got my money's worth here!"

He bent down and placed a heavy hand over my left breast, squeezing it hard until I managed to wheeze out a pitiful groan. Loosening his grip, he let his fingers slide up to my nipple and pinched it viciously between his thumb and middle finger, digging his nails into it, pulling it out until the tit was stretched into a painful cone and I managed a scream despite my half-paralyzed diaphragm. He laughed at his cleverness.

"What's your name, slut?"

Fuck you! is what I wanted to say, but what would be the point of asking for more torment than he was already planning? I tried to squeeze out my name, but couldn't supply enough breath to make it audible.

"You'll have to try harder than that, slut." He kicked me in the side, but that only produced a series of anguished gasps. "Oh fuck it. Who cares what your name is? You are my property I will name you eventually. It's gonna be a little while before you can walk, so let's make use of that sweet cunt."

He untied the cord around my ankles and spread my legs roughly apart. When I tried to kick at him with my one functioning leg, he drove a fist into my belly, shocking me into open-mouthed rigidity. While I struggled to breathe, he opened his pants, pulled out his stiffened member and drove it savagely into my dry vagina. I grit my teeth against this new flaring of pain and lay quietly as he pumped at me until I felt his hot discharge pulsing against my cervix. He lay atop me, resting from his labors, deflating within me.

I made no effort to do anything but breathe. The terrible pain in my back and leg had begun to subside.

With a sudden inhalation, my captor pushed himself up off my body and rose to his feet. He withdrew a handkerchief from a back pocket of his cargo pants and blew his nose into it vigorously. Then he carefully laid it out on the ground beside my head as though it were a doily, stood erect and pissed on it. Taking the cord that had recently bound my ankles in one hand and scrunching the piss-soaked handkerchief in the other, he pinched my cheeks in a powerful grip to force my mouth open and stuffed the wet handkerchief into it, then quickly wrapped the cord tightly around and around my mouth and the back of my head, tying it in place with a square knot. I gagged as I was forced to swallow the urine that dribbled down my throat from the saturated cloth.

"Get used to it, slut," my tormentor chided. "That hanky will be in there for a long time." He chuckled grimly as he pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, tapped one out and lit up. "You smoke, slut?"

I shook my head miserably. There could be no answer to such a question from a sadistic captor that would not result in additional suffering.

"Well, now It's time you learned how." He squatted beside me, pulled the cigarette from between his lips and shoved it into my left nostril. Unable to breathe through my mouth, I immediately began to cough and choke. "Don't worry about that," he said. "It takes a while to get used to it." He lit another. "We'd better hurry your training up a bit."

He shoved the second cigarette into my right nostril and sat back on his heels, watching with amusement as I thrashed about on the ground, struggling for air but dragging in mostly smoke. I shook my head violently until the cigarettes flew out of my nose. The hunter picked them up.

"What are you trying to do, slut? Start a forest fire? That ain't very responsible. You need some discipline."

With that, he seized my hair with his left hand to immobilize my head, then shoved the lighted end of both cigarettes into my nose. I screamed through the gag and my body thrashed more violently, but he held my head steady with both hands until the red hot tips of the cigarettes were extinguished inside my nostrils and I subsided to quiet sobs. Satisfied that the butts had inflicted as much pain as they could, he pulled them out and made sure they were dead. He hauled me to my feet by my hair and tied some cord around my neck, then clipped a dog leash to it.

Stooping over, he picked up a long, green stick which had obviously been recently hewn from a fresh branch. He whipped it back and forth in the air to let me hear the dismaying threat of its sibilant hiss.

"See what I whittled for you while you were taking your beauty rest."

He began tapping it on each of my breasts alternately, lightly at first, then increasingly harder. Red stripes began to appear but I stood still and took it, cringing with the new pain, but knowing that ducking away from it would merely inspire him to punish me more severely. When I finally began to whimper, he grabbed my shoulder, spun me around and shouted, "Walk!" delivering a brutal blow to my rump at the same time. I screamed into my foul gag and lurched forward toward the path, limping on my still weakened leg. Once on the path heading back toward the cages, he kept me ahead of him on the leash so he could whip me periodically when I faltered.

"I don't want to hear no whining from you," he growled, "and I ain't impressed by your pitiful limping. This here whip will work real nice to adjust your attitude if you slow down or fall. And I'd love to use it after all the work I put into makin' it. It's sort of a cross between a riding crop and a cane and it raises a nice purple welt on your sorry ass. Don't tempt me to add too many more welts to your pretty pink skin, 'cause it will sure make the bouncing unpleasant."

But, of course, he found several reasons as I struggled along to add painful new welts to my back, bottom and thighs. In addition, I was feeling light-headed from hunger and thirst. When I became unable to walk in a straight line despite corrections from the whip, my captor finally jerked on my leash and brought me to a stop. I swayed, eyes closed, waiting for the whipping.

"You ain't much for stamina, are ya, slut?" he said. "Looka me. I've been as far as you have but you don't see me staggering around, do ya?"

He drew a bottle of water and swallowed long and deep as I watched. "Ah! Refreshing. Oh, I forgot. You ain't had nothin' to drink this morning. Well, let's fix that. On your knees!"

When I hesitated, he lashed the front of my thighs with the cane-whip. I collapsed at once, sharp stones biting into my knees on impact. He cut the cord binding the handkerchief in my mouth and pulled it out. Then, standing in front of me, he unbuckled his belt, unzipped and dropped his pants and underpants to his ankles.

"Open up, slut!" he ordered, brandishing the whip with his right hand.

I did so and he clamped the fingers of his left hand into my cheeks to hold it open and keep me from averting my face. A moment later he was aiming a thick stream of dark yellow urine into my mouth, forcing me to swallow in rapid gulps. When he finished, he used both hands to clamp my mouth shut until I had swallowed every drop. He smiled at the tears dribbling down my cheeks.

"Nothing like fresh, warm piss to hit the spot. Ain't that right, slut?"

I said nothing, made no move.

"Stay right there!" he said. Glaring at me, he squatted and emptied his bowels on the ground, then picked up the still-damp handkerchief and wiped himself clean. I was so disgusted I looked away. Smiling, he forced the soiled material back into my mouth and used some duct tape from his pack to wrap around my head and hold it in. He took a few moments to enjoy the expression on my face as I fought the urge to vomit.

Without warning, he pushed me over on my back, took out another roll of cord and began tying one ankle to a tree beside the path. Then he tied the other ankle to a tree on the opposite side, spreading my legs out painfully. Rolling up his pants and belt, he lifted up my hips and crammed it under my butt, elevating my vaginal entrance.

To avoid the terrible pain of a dry vagina, I blocked out my loathing of this man and concentrated on memories of the times I played with a vibrator and imagining being played with by a loving partner. This time the pounding went on much longer, but I felt my clit responding to the stimulation, my juices lubricating the thrusts, and rode them to orgasm even before the hunter had detonated his own load.

"There now," he panted as he approached his own climax, "that's the way to get into the spirit of things!"

From around the edges of his hammering, driving hulk, I thought I saw movement. Just at the moment of his last fierce thrust with its burst of hot semen, he let out an odd grunt and became suddenly still. With a look of abject surprise, he slowly flopped down on top of me, his body limp. There, standing between my ankles, was a female hunter. Despite my predicament, I was awestruck by her beauty. She had long, wavy, fiery-red hair, bright green eyes, and firm breasts. She looked to be about 6 feet tall. She was dressed in a camo outfit. She had knocked him out with the barrel of her gun. She then freed my limbs and I immediately tore the tape from my mouth and spit out the rag. I spit out as much as I could and then sobbed. To my surprise, the red-haired woman held me while I cried. She gave me some water which I drank gratefully.

"You're ok now he's knocked out."

The woman proceeded to tie the man with rope. She then tied a rope-leash around my neck.

"Come on slave. Back towards the cell-block."

I walked behind her.

"Why did you save me?" I asked quietly so as not to trigger the collar.

"I know that guy. He hunts every week and he is a total sadist. He captures one of the poor women, spends a week torturing and raping them before killing them."

"How do you know?"

"He bragged about it earlier. I also think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I didn't want that bastard destroying you. That doesn't mean we will be best friends. You are still my slave and my property. You will know me only as Mistress."

I smiled as we continued walking. I wasn't too tired having had a long sleep. We walked mostly on grass which was good on my feet and finally got back to the cell-block. There were guards milling around. They smiled at Mistress and congratulated her. One came and removed my shock collar. I was then led around the side of the building to a car park. Mistress walked to her car. A few other captured slaves and their owners were there. I didn't see my former captor.

"You will ride in the trunk. I don't have spare clothes and we can't have people getting suspicious."

She cuffed my hands behind me and I didn't object. She then inserted a breathable ball gag. I felt a tingling in my pussy. Mistress stroked my skin and hair.

"You are so beautiful."

I then climbed into the trunk and the car drove off. I couldn't wait for my new life as a slave to begin.