Holly's Home Invasion
Part 11
by Andromeda
The blonde-haired slave girl checked her wrist watch.
'Time to get moving, Mother Goose,' she said briskly, 'up on your feet, make it
snappy. Rhonda should be back any minute now with the other two.' She produced a
knife and quickly severed the hobble rope between my ankles. I flapped around
awkwardly as I tried to get up. I'd been lying face down on the ground. Getting
up from a prone position with my hands tied as they were was hardly easy. The
slave girl smiled as she watched me thrash around.
'Having trouble getting up?' she asked innocently. I nodded miserably. A moment
later she bent down and pulled me to my feet. I looked around. At the edge of
the clearing I saw the dark-haired slave girl, Rhonda, walking toward us. Behind
her stumbled Beth and Belinda. From the instructions I'd heard the blonde give
her companion I knew what to expect but seeing it was still a shock. Like me,
the two women had been stripped of their panties, their lips brutally duct taped
to seal the loathsomely soiled lingerie inside their mouths, their hands kept
securely fastened behind their backs. But even more hideous was the manner in
which the dark-haired girl had roped them together by their necks, coffled them
like slaves being led to a slave auction. I was appalled. The brutal bondage
reminded me of some shocking drawings I'd seen a few years earlier in a museum
exhibit depicting the harsh treatment of African slaves a few centuries ago. I
remembered how I'd cringed at the sight of the awful black and white drawings of
long columns of hapless men, women and children being led into captivity,
humiliatingly coffled by their necks with their hands helplessly roped behind
their backs. The intimidating images had haunted me for months. To see the
dreadful tableau so hideously reenacted in the way Beth and Belinda had been
leashed together was frightful and terrifying. The dark-haired slave girl shoved
her helpless captives over to where I stood gagged and hand-bound at the edge of
the grave. As they approached me I could see that the two women had been crying
heavily. Their eyes were red and their faces streaked with tears. Shocked at
finding me still alive, they stared at me wide eyed as they shuffled forward in
their brutal neck restraints. Beth started struggling against her bonds, her
jaws working futilely under the gag strapping. I grunted wretchedly at her
through my gag and tried to move toward her but was stopped by Shannon's
restraining hand at my elbow.
'I need you to keep still while I get you fixed up,' she informed me coldly as
she extracted a long length of white cotton rope from a black leather pouch at
her waist. I gazed fearfully at the rope, aware of its purpose. My shoulders
sagged as I thought of having it fastened around my neck to leash me to my
daughter and her friend, of being led into slavery cruelly and degradingly
stripped, gagged and coffled with my hands bound behind me. Shannon looked bored
as she doubled the rope and flipped it around my neck. The ends hung limply over
my bare breasts.
'I normally use a choke rope with a slip knot,' she informed me as she deftly
fashioned the rope into a slave collar and secured it with a overhand knot under
my chin, 'especially on captures that look like they might get a bit
rambunctious. But you seem tame enough so I'm letting you off with a simple
overhand. I hope you're properly appreciative.' She tugged briefly at my collar
to test it. It chafed horribly. Satisfied, she grasped one of the ropes that
hung over my breasts and knotted it off at Belinda's neck collar. The other end
was left dangling from my neck to be used, I supposed, as a lead leash. I could
see my daughter staring at me as I stood naked and coffled in front of her. I
turned my face away, ashamed that she'd had to witness her mother's degrading
and humiliating enslavement.
'The slave tag, Rhonda. Give it to me,' Shannon snapped.
'Yes ma'am,' Rhonda replied, 'I have it ready.' She handed Shannon a white
plastic flex cuff with a strip of grey cardboard stapled to it. On it I could
see my name marked in big block letters. The words "estimated age 40" had been
added on. Shannon pulled out a pen and scribbled something on the tag then
looked at me.
'Turn around. Give me your hands,' she told me curtly.
The collar chafed at my neck as I turned. I felt the slave girl's hands at my
bound wrists and winced as the tag was cuffed firmly in place with a quick tug
at the strap. At least, I thought bitterly, the fact that I was being slave
tagged meant that I no longer marked for execution. I remembered how I had gazed
with envy at Belinda's tag while I'd lain hogtied in the kidnap van. Had it not
been for the grim ordeal that I knew lay directly ahead I would probably have
been humiliatingly glad, proud almost to have been tagged. The dark haired girl
circled behind me and examined my wrists.
"Extra heavy lube," she read out. I reddened with embarrassment. 'Why, ma'am?'
she asked.
'Don't be dense, Rhonda,' Shannon muttered, 'she's a defective. Why do you
suppose she was being terminated?'
'Oh,' Rhonda exclaimed, 'well then I suppose she's lucky they needed another
piece of fuckmeat for the party. She'd be dead by now if it wasn't for that.'
'She's not out of the woods yet,' Shannon remarked, 'she's on probation. Master
Jim said he's going to be keeping on eye on her at the party to see if she pans
out. If she does then she'll probably be kept for slave training. If not, well
they always have the option of terminating her at some stage, maybe even in the
next couple of days. But I know Master Jim wants to keep her. He's been looking
for a mother and daughter pair for some time now.'
'So that's why he made you tag her for heavy duty greasing?' Rhonda asked.
'How perceptive of you, Rhonda,' Shannon said dryly, 'yes, he's trying to cut
her some slack. I suppose that if she creams her cunt properly and manages to
keep her lubricated ass open for fucking she'll probably scrape through. And
even if her ass closes up they'll probably put a plug in it to stretch it.
Master Jim wants to see her receive a good hard fucking, ass and cunt, to get
her started on her training. Anyway we're wasting time. Let's get these lovely
ladies over to where they're supposed to be. Karen and her crew are waiting for
them.'
She seized the end of the rope that dangled from my collar and yanked it
sharply. It tugged painfully at my neck and I stumbled after her, pulling
Belinda and Beth in tow behind me. Our two captors strode in front, their
designer panties winking lewdly at us from under their brief black miniskirts as
they walked. Stripped naked and panty-gagged with our wrists bound behind us and
our necks hideously festooned with rope, we were led away to be gang raped. I
wondered if Beth and Belinda knew what was in store for us. I was sure they knew
that we were about to raped for the second time that evening but did they have
any idea of how terrible this massive assault on our naked and defenseless
bodies was to be? I was sure they'd overheard the conversation in the kidnap van
but had they made the connection between that and what was happening to us? I
turned and looked back at them, my rope collar chafing painfully against my skin
as the slave rope dragged me forward. No longer crying, Belinda shuffled along
behind me, stumbling from time to time as her neck binding pulled her in tow,
her eyes blank and expressionless above her bulging cheeks. Beth was still
sobbing. She looked dreadful with her slender neck collared in rope, her hands
confined behind her back, her face hideously deformed by the heavily layered
strips of duct tape strapped tautly across her lips, her body humiliatingly
stripped naked to ready her for the raping extravaganza about to take place. She
shuffled listlessly behind Belinda, lurching forward from time to time as the
cruel coffle rope tugged at her neck and bit into her skin.
Rhonda trotted past us in her obscene miniskirt and panties and caught up with
Shannon.
'So what else did Master Jim tell you, ma'am?' I heard her ask.
'Nothing much,' Shannon replied, 'just that he was pleased with our work. We
really ought to be getting a merit badge for taking care of those cowboys.
Master Jim told me they've owed the Syndicate a shitload of cash for months now
and they weren't paying a cent. They'd had lots of warnings too.'
'A merit badge would be cool,' Rhonda mused.
'Don't hold your breath,' Shannon snorted, 'how's the old bag doing back there?'
Rhonda turned and glanced at me.
'She's doing fine ma'am, just looking a little scared. I suppose one has to
expect that.'
"Scared" was hardly the word for how I felt. I was terrified. The slave girl had
said that I was still "on probation", that I could face almost certain execution
if I failed to please at this evenings's festival of bondage and rape. And that
I might have to endure having my butthole plugged to stretch it open for easier
impalement on a slaver's shaft. I sobbed briefly as I tried to imagine what it
would feel like having my ass humiliatingly plugged and stretched. For the
umpteenth time I pulled futilely at my wrist ropes behind my back, cursing the
dead slaver who had bound me so expertly and securely. No matter how I felt
about it I knew I had to satisfy. Soon I would find myself bent over a raping
table with my privates exposed and presented for impalement to a roomful of
slavers. If I wanted to live I would need to show them a fully lubricated vagina
and a pliantly stretched and opened butthole. I had no choice.
We trudged on for another fifteen minutes or so through the wooded grounds of
what seemed to be an enormous estate. It reeked of wealth and opulence. We
finally came to a large house guarded by four stern faced men armed with what
looked like submachine guns. From one of the brightly-lit windows came the sound
of laughter and animated conversation mingled with the raucous strains of
country music. Shannon stopped and said something to one of the guards and he
waved us on. We were led around the house to the back and to what seemed to be a
service entrance, also guarded by men with submachine guns, only two of them
this time.
'These captures are for the party,' Shannon told them, 'We've been ordered to
deliver them to the service room by the reception area.'
The guards glanced briefly at Beth, Belinda and me, running their eyes hungrily
up and down our bound and naked bodies, then nodded. 'Fresh fuckmeat, huh?' one
of them said, 'I like the sweet young thing in the back. Any chance I can get my
cock in her ass?'
'She's not for grunts like you,' Shannon laughed easily, 'but I'll be happy to
accommodate you myself once I'm off duty.'
'OK sweetheart,' the guard chuckled, 'I'll take you up on that.' He pinched her
ass. 'Cute panties, I love 'em,' he commented. Shannon wiggled her hips at him
as he waved us into the house. I had a brief fit of trembling as I thought of
what lay ahead. Very soon now the three of us would be standing bent over a row
of tables having our raised and exposed vaginas masturbated and our buttholes
lubricated by Mr. X's slave girls with a roomful of slavers staring hungrily at
our crotches as they queued up to rape us.
