spasms she could not identify
coursing through her body. She scarcely dared move a muscle as she
sat perched on the edge of the seat, and she made no effort to
resist when Ross took each of her arms in turn and drew it out to
secure it at the wrist to the horizontal beam that ran at shoulder
height behind her. Once the wrist straps had been tightly buckled,
another was passed about her throat and yet another about her waist
so that, from the seat up, she was now held completely immobile.
Beneath the seat two more beams projected out at angles just above
the ground, and to the ends of these Ross shackled her ankles so
her feet no longer touched the packed earth and her legs were drawn
apart to lewdly display her naked and shaven sex.
Sarah made a
futile effort to close her thighs, but even though she was still
able to move her knees, doing so placed a terrible strain on her
muscles and she quickly abandoned the effort. Blinking through the
eye slits, she watched Ross where he stood before her, his face
impassive save for a slight flicker of feeling in his eyes.
'How does your
new throne feel now, princess?' he asked softly. 'I must say, you
suit it beautifully, and now you must enjoy it for a while.' He
started to turn away. 'I'm afraid I don't have any subjects for you
just now, my lady,' he said mockingly, 'but I shall undoubtedly
return to pay homage to your true crown before nightfall. Meantime,
I shall leave you alone to enjoy some royal thoughts.'
At first Kitty
found the heavy-soled boots most awkward, but as she moved along
down the path ahead of Nathan, she discovered herself growing
accustomed to their weight and the unusual angle at which they held
her feet, so that she was soon moving with surprising ease and knew
she would be able to run when the time came. How long she would be
able to keep going, however, was a different matter altogether and
she did not doubt Nathan's assertion that eventual capture was
inevitable. She began to wonder if it was worth making any real
effort to run in the first place, but as if reading her mind,
Nathan quickly banished the thought.
'Fucky-fucky
birds that are caught too quickly end up getting a special basting
for the table,' he informed her. 'I've seen sluggish girls with
their entire bodies looking like they've been baked in an oven for
a couple of hours, with not a pink stripe between all the red ones.
They never get caught quickly a second time.'
The hunt was
scheduled to start from behind the house itself, a huge, two-winged
building of dark stone with what appeared to be a recently added
third wing of red brick jutting out at a most peculiar angle. The
original structure formed a perimeter on three sides of an
expansive lawn that was bounded on the fourth side by well-kept
flowerbeds. Behind them were more tall grasses, bushes and trees
that grew closer and closer together the further away from the
house they went until eventually they merged with the main
woodland.
As Nathan
prodded her forward across the grass, Sarah saw that she was not
the only quarry of the day: four more equally bizarre birdlike
creatures stood in a group watched over by two liveried footmen,
while a fifth female crouched on all fours, her features, except
for her mouth and lower jaw, hidden beneath a wolverine mask, her
entire body, save for her breasts, buttocks and crotch, swathed in
a skin-tight suit of short fur. Kitty saw that where the fur did
not cover her, the girl's flesh was a musky brown colour, and
guessed she was probably of foreign origin, although not as dark as
the African slaves she had seen in the past few months.
'That's Oona,'
Nathan told her, noting her interest even though Kitty had tried to
conceal it. 'Comes from the Indies and she's one of the master's
favourites. She's a good hunting bitch, and they reckon she can
sniff a warm pussy at two hundred paces if the wind's blowing in
the right direction. If she catches you first, those teeth will
make yours sing, believe
Cassandra Gannon
Tony Drury
Cynthia Ruchti
Breanna Hayse
Talon P. S.
Kyra Davis
Richard Hilton
Elizabeth Enright
Marge Piercy
Cher Etan, BWWM Club