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Autumn Fury the Run [M/F nc+]
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Autumn Fury II
The Run
Un-illustrated version.
WARNING
Contains non-consentual sex (the rest of the world calls it
rape).
This story may be distributed electronically provided
it is complete, unaltered and with this statement
intact. The author maintains all rights to this story.
© 1994, Stroker Ace
The whole fabric of human existence is that of domination and
submission. - Friedrich Nietzsche
Comments are welcomed. Flames happily redirected to /dev/nul.
Autumn Fury II - The Run
"Miss! Miss! Wake up."
Tiffany awoke, to her shoulder being viciously shaken. A
woman's face, thin and stern with features outlined in dark
eyeliner wearing an even darker shade of lipstick, was
towering over her.
"You cant do that here! Miss, I suggest that you see a
doctor!"
"Why, was I screaming or something?"
"Well, no, but...."
"But what?!"
"You... you were..." She straightened, to her considerable
height. "You were touching yourself, down there," said in
her most disdainful voice. "Mm, mm, masturbating is not
allowed in flight", she stammered.
Tiffany followed her brown eyes to her lap. Her soft cotton
dress was bunched tightly around her vulva. A crease in the
flowered pattern of the fabric pressed into the slit that is
the essence of a woman's sex.
"Oh God!!"
"Oh my God". Tiffany said again to herself. She felt herself
redden with shame. Lowering her eyes, the moral indignation
of the stewardess pressed down on her. Sinking lower into her
seat she mumbled an apology, praying that the woman would
leave. The other passengers were staring. A man on the aisle
stood, for a better view. She willed herself to become
invisible.
It was the same nightmare. The stewardess would think that
she had a fantasy and was playing with herself, there was
nothing that she could do about that. Night and day, whenever
she relaxed, let her mind wander for a few minutes, the
experiences of Susan and Laura would flood over her. She saw
Victor, Roger and the others abusing, taunting, humiliating.
Her hands would relive the degradation, she would waken to
find sex bruised from her own hand, prisoner to the will of a
dead man. How could Tiffany tell of the rape and degradation
experiences of her sister and Laura that dominate her
subconscious, to that wisp of a woman?
The stewardess, proud of protecting her passengers from the
slut in 18D, continued down the aisle, strutting in her heels.
For a while the thin stewardess could forget about her aching
feet, forget about the endless dieting, forget about being a
glorified waitress and bimbo to 8 flights a day. Forget about
making love to plastic and batteries at night, alone in a
yellowing hotel room, sounds of love coming from Maria and the
pilot in the next room. For now she was superior to that slut
in 18D. Occasionally she would stop to talk to a passenger,
they would look at back at her as the stewardess shakes her
head.
"Just keep quiet and we will get through this", Tiffany had
said. The same words that she had used in Colorado. They did
not inspire confidence then and they were not any better now.
She glanced at her companion, asleep in the seat beside her
and thought back......
++++
The man with the arrow in his neck was making gurgling sounds,
drowning in his own blood. Victor lay on his back in a sea of
blood. The arrow protruding as if from a harpooned whale.
Roger stood in the doorway. The arrow had caught him in the
chest. She had to shoot him again to finish him.
Working on instinct, trying not to think about the death all
around her she turned to the brunette.
Arms wide, the brunette was strapped to hooks overhead. Naked
she stretched, her toes balancing is a pool of her own water.
A single burn mark blistered red against the milky white skin
of her breast. Pinkish stripes laced her breasts, torso and
back where she had been lightly whipped. Otherwise she looked
remarkably unhurt.
Tiffany stood on a chair to her side to unhook her arms. The
flecks of dried cum in the brunettes hair gave evidence to her
abuse. The girl babbled incoherently, obviously in shock.
The girl slumped to the floor, curling up in a puddle of her
own urine..
"Pull your self together. We have to get out of here.
What's your name?"
"Laura. Thank you. You saved my life", she murmured almost
incoherently.
Tiffany bent to consoled the trembling woman. That is when she
noticed it. The girls front teeth were missing. She looked
around but the dentures were nowhere to be seen.
To much had happened, too fast. Tiffany knew that they had to
get out of this house, there would be time enough to talk
latter. From watching the house she knew Victor's business
associates would be visiting him at sunset. The Bell Jet
Ranger would hover waiting for the signal. The first evening
a heavyset man emerged and walked with Victor for 5 minutes.
Another time a bulging sports bag changed hands. But last
night, crouching in the rocks, Tiffany saw the same man pull a
woman from the helicopter. Her hands were behind her back,
probably handcuffed. A dark hood covered her head. From
where Tiffany hid, she could imagine the pathetic pleas to be
released. When Victor took her by the waistband of her slacks
she screamed a half harted cry as if she already realized that
there was no one to help her.
Tiffany pulled the trembling nude to her feet and went in the
house, stooping to take the brief case of money from the
bleeding body in the doorway. Searching for clothes, Laura
led them to the cages where she had been kept. Simple chain
link pens, low and wide with a padlocked gate on top. Tiffany
all to easily could imagine being forced to climb up on the
waist high cage, knees hurting on the wire, stepping carefully
into the opening, being careful not to scratch an already
abused flesh against the exposed wire. In her mind she saw
the metal gate being closed over Susan. Barley high enough to
crawl on hands and knees, she must have slithered on the cold
concrete to the dirty blanket bunched in the corner. Maybe
she stopped long enough to vomit or relieve herself in the
open drain in the center.
The far door lead to a large, empty room. Expensive natural
wood finished walls were marred by crude oversized hooks
screwed at various heights. A highly polished exercise bar,
the type that ballerinas use, ran the length of one wall. The
opposite wall had a narrow work surface. A wood chair was
overturned in the center of the large room.
"This where they did it to me", Laura cried, her speech
distorted.
"It will be ok. They forced you. It wasn't your fault,"
Tiffany tried to comfort the trembling brunette with the
standard phases. The shadows were getting long. The
helicopter would probably return soon, what would they do when
they found the bodies? But Laura had suffered too much, she
had to tell.
She quickly told of being forced into a van and driven to a
waiting helicopter. She spoke without emotion, giving few
details as if her abduction was insignificant. In the
helicopter the big man forced her to suck him. Laura,
frightened, hoping that all he wanted was to rape her, tried
her best. She explained to Tiffany that she had given head to
her boyfriend before and tried to do a good job this time in
hopes of being released unhurt. When he came she did her
best to swallow as much as she could. He rewarded her by
telling her to suck him hard again. She spent the entire
flight with the big man's dick in her mouth as he hollered
business matters to the pilot and worked her head up and down.
Money transfers, and phone numbers jokes and laughter as Laura
gagged as the strangers probed her throat.
The man gave her to Victor, pushing her to his feet as he
bragged about his blow job.
"They took me to this room, there were three of them and the
meanest one, the boss, Victor. He, Victor, told the others
that I was born to suck cock and told me that I was going to
drink all their sperm. I was stripped by the tall one and
pushed to my knees in the middle of the room. They left me
like that while they had a beer. They ignored me while they
joked among themselves. I knelt there naked and untied,
crying and begging, waiting on them to get around to me."
"When they were ready they gathered around. Victor stood close
to me and took his pants off. His erection inches from of my
face. They didn't even talk to me, it was like I was expected
to suck them. I was scared but also humiliated from haven
given in so easy in the helicopter. I didn't even struggle. I
had to do something. When he pushed into my throat, I let him
feel my teeth, just to let him know that I was a human being."
"The big one, Victor, jumped back as if I had bit him or
something, I had only just touched my teeth to his dick. He
pulled out and hit me again and again in the face. Then he
dragged me to the exercise bar and locked my neck to that bar
with a collar. My hands were chained to the sides."
Tiffany could imagine the scared girl, knelling on the floor,
unable to move her head, fully exposed, her hands useless,
stretched out along the polished exercise bar.
Laura was shaking, voice almost lost in her crying as she
continued, "One of them gave him a pliers, the others held my
head and they pulled out my teeth. It took a long time. They
laughed and held my head back, to make me swallow my own
blood. I screamed and wet myself but they only laughed harder.
They took my front teeth out! They said they would pull the
rest of my teeth out if I did it again. I was real careful
when they took my mouth. After I swallowed I would lick the
blood from my gums off their cocks. All they wanted was my
mouth, they didn't even fuck me, only fingered me while
another held my head on him."
They had escaped in Victor's Jeep. As they speed down the
mountain they heard the helicopter searching overhead. They
drove to Stapleton in the night and took the first plane
heading South.
* * *
Daytona Beach, Florida - 6 weeks later.
Long languid days spent lounging on the beach, thoughts far
removed from the horror in the mountains. Tiffany paid for
Laura's dental work, the first step in rebuilding her self
confidence. The two girls who had shared so much together,
spent their days together laying on the beach. They slept
late, enjoyed a relaxed breakfast at a local bagel shop then
strolled past the store fronts beyond the pier to lay on the
white sands by the ocean. They sunned themselves falling
asleep hoping that the lifeguard would remember to wake them
before they burned in the Florida sun. The first to wake
would roll over and rub suntan lotion and latter sunblock on
the others bare back. A quick run to the ocean would refresh
them enough for a stroll on the pier. Late morning on a
weekdays the beach belonged to old retired men. Tired eyes of
the old men would be rejuvenate as the girls in their early
twenties strolled by, without wraps, tanned breasts swaying in
bikini tops loosely tied over sunburned shoulders. Bottoms
working slowly into the seam between cheeks as the girls
absent mindedly and silently sauntered by their tanned bare
feet sprinkled with white sand like a delicious but perverted
pastry. The sweet scent of suntan oil lingering on the hot
air.
At mid day they fell into a habit of strolling to the nearby
stores to escape the heat. Wearing a flimsy wrap over their
bikinis they would have an unhurried lunch enjoying the
attention of the business men on a expense accounts.
Occasionally a man would whisper to his friends, stick his
chest out and so casually stroll over to their table. If he
was nice the girls would play the flirt but always he left
without a phone number. In the afternoon they returned to the
beach to swim and tan. The nights were spent playing the
clubs, teasing, using their looks for dinners and drinks,
picking up a spending money from the many bikini and wet T-
shirt contests. Home was the Daytona Inn, an older hotel on
the beach, long since eclipsed by the newer resorts, now
reduced to a haven for strippers supporting out of work
bartenders. The girls would return in the early morning hours
and skinny dip in the pool instead of a shower. The women
shared a room off the pool, the twin beds replaced a king size
mattress when Laura found that she could not sleep alone.
Nude, with the tired air conditioner whining, desperately
trying to keep up with the heat, the women held each other
through the long hours till the sun broke again over the
Atlantic.
Breast to breast, the warmth and soft comfort of another
woman, unmatched by a man, smooth limbs curving into
unbelievable softness of a moist vagina, each knowing how it
will feel before it happens as they pleasured, sweaty thighs
intertwined, mouths locked together in deep kisses, quivering
vagina lips futility grasping against each other, blending
together easily forgetting or caring whose nipple or ass,
mouth or pussy, mentally merged the growing orgasm in one
continued by the other into waves of pleasure, a tired
stripper in the next room banging on the wall tells them they
are making too much noise, but it is too late for the lovers
have come full circle, holding each other again, breast to
breast.
Still shaken by her capture and torture of weeks before, Laura
was unable to function without the protection and reassurance
of her friend and new lover, Tiffany. Tiffany still
considered herself completely heterosexual, her love for Laura
and the torrid sessions on hot nights or the intimate rubdowns
with the aroma of suntan oil mingling with the musky scent of
arousal, only a temporary diversion. Nothing more she told
herself, but she refuses wear her white bikini to the beach
any longer, since it shows her moisture as she watches Laura's
slim form emerge from the surf, hips in a natural roll that
catches the imagination of both men and women alike, her bosom
rises as she raises both hands to brush an imaginary strand of
hair from her face, she smiles and moisture just comes at the
thought of a kiss.
The season was coming to a close, the days getting cooler.
Renee, the owner of a slightly illegal escort service,
mentioned that a business man was looking for a live in nanny.
Tiffany new it was time for a change. The next day Renee
called with the details. The pay was good, the work easy,
just take care of a 6 year old boy.
The police had often tried to bust Renee's escort service for
prostitution but Renee's friends always tipped her off in
time. Tiffany paid Renee five hundred dollars to have her
friends in the police department do a through check on the
Orlando business man. A week later they pronounced him clean.
Apparently he was a hard working citizen without a criminal
record. He immigrated to this country 7 years ago from India
and bought a connivance store. Every year he brought more
family over and opened more stores. Two years ago he
Americanized his name to Mr. John Harini. He lived with his
wife and young child in an expensive estate outside of
Orlando. Renee even visited the family herself, she assured
the worried Tiffany.
Tiffany spent the morning convincing Laura that this was just
what she needed for her recovery. Laura was good with young
children, the pay was good, it was with a good family that
would take care of her. Most importantly, Tiffany told her,
it was over. She could not continue to make love to her every
night, even though she stilled loved her. Tiffany attempted
to explain how she hoped to meet a man, the girl-girl love was
sweet and tender but she did not want to think of herself as
one of those butch dykes.
Renee took Laura for the required medical exam and let the
crying girl spend the night at her condo. The next day Renee
drove her sixty miles to her new employers.
+++
Mount Dora, Florida. 25 miles north of Orlando.
"Come in. You must be the new nanny. We were expecting you.
Oh you are gorgeous. Have a seat while I ....."
"Oh Patkar, you will scare her away with all your talking.
Hello. I am Mrs. Harini. Welcome to our home. You have
already meet Patkar our maid, she loves to use her new
English. I insist on everyone in this house speaking
American. You are so pretty. How did you get here, there is
no car, did you walk? It is Laura isn't it?
"A friend dropped me off. Yes, ...uhhh.....Mam"
"Oh. Well my husband and I have another very busy day ahead
of us. You see we run a chain of stores owned by our family,
it keeps us very busy. I want you to take care of little Rao,
day and night. Now I don't want to hear any opinions of about
my mothering. This is done all the time in my country.
Understood?"
"Yes Mam."
Mrs. Harini was a middle aged woman, dark skinned, pleasant
face, short and plump, the typical Indian wife. She was wore
a patterned scarf over one shoulder, a single black dot graced
the middle of her forehead.
"That is good. It is so important that we girls understand
each other. Come, I will introduce you to Mr. Harini."
Laura still caring her American Traveler case, followed Mrs.
Harini up the stairs of the lavish home.
"Dear, this is Laura, the woman that we hired for Rao."
"Nanny", corrected Laura. "The new nursemaid".
Mr. Harini was an older man, was thin and bald. He wore an
expensive business suit that hung loosely on his frame and
carried a cellular phone. "Whatever", he said and waived them
away.
"Honey, I said she is to be Rao's...", she nodded her head at
Laura.
"Oh, yes of course. How silly of me." Mr. Harini put the
phone down. "Call Rao, while I speak with the beautiful
Laura."
"Put you bag down Laura, while we talk. That is such a
beautiful name, so American. How old are you, or should I say
how young", he laughed.
"23, sir".
He led Laura into an wood paneled office. He did not offer
her a chair, but sat on the edge of a large desk in front of a
window. The lush green of the garden in the morning light
filled the view.
"Ahh, to be 23 again", he laughed. " You are very beautiful, I
am sure that you will do well. The job is really very simple,
just take care of my son. Anything he wants is your
responsibility, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Well there are
a few hours off while he is with his mother doing school work,
but the rest of the day you are to take care of anything he
wants. You see, in my country wealthy people teach their
children at home, then send them to a university for a more
advanced education. I want my son to know everything of life,
not that trash that they teach in your public schools."
"What else? Oh yes, pay. You will be paid the agreed upon
amount directly to your bank account every month. Your
contract will terminate when Rao wants it to."
"Excuse me, but...", Laura cut in, but Mr. Harini
continued...."Rao, come in, son. Meet your nanny."
Mrs. Harini followed a chubby, dark skinned boy in a Mickey
Mouse shirt and red baggy shorts, hands and mouth full of
pastry, into the office.
"Is this the boy? I thought he was only 6," Laura exclaimed.
"He is twelve, almost a man", Mr. Harini said proudly. "Rao,
put the food down, son. I will show you how to greet a nanny."
The boy stuffed his mouth with the remainder of the pastry,
his cheeks bulging. Without thinking, Laura turned to greet
the boy. With her back to Mr. Harini, she knelt down to be at
eye level with the youngster.
"Hello Rao. My name is La.......", she stopped as cold steel
hit her chest. Instinctively she grabbed at it as it slid up
towards her neck. Thinking she would choke she pulled against
the chain, but it did not get tighter. Instead it was locked
in back, the padlock cold, heavy and foreign between her bare
shoulder blades. She was still pulling against the neck chain
as steel cuffs were simultaneously snapped around both ankles.
Too late, she pulled her legs under her and with great effort,
stood. The short chain keeping her legs too close to run or
fight.
Mr. Hairini came from behind with a long bamboo pole for the
laughing boy. To Laura's amazement she found that the other
end of the pole connected to her collar. Like a dangerous
animal, she was held at a distance by the pole as she fought
for each breath.
"Here Rao, I present you with your first woman. I assure you
that you will never forget this woman."
"Way cool", Rao was dancing in place.
Mrs. Harini, was beaming with pride as she darted around the
room, shooting Polaroid after Polaroid of her family.
"You see Rao, she is of a lesser class than us. What
Americans call white trash. Since you are superior to her, it
is her privilege to serve you."
"Now I will teach you about collaring a woman, as my beloved
father taught me. You see, son the pole is connected to a
choke collar. The bamboo pole allows you stay beyond her arms
reach if you want. Her legs are chained so she can't use her
feet to pull against you. If you yank the pole like this....
it causes her extreme pain. See... Look how the chain cuts
into her throat, see how the skin is pinched between the links
of the chain? When you do that she has to use her hands to
keep from choking."
He continued, "A better way is to slowly twist the pole. Now
see how easy it is to control her discomfort. Put you hand on
mine, and twist the pole. Good. Now make her walk around in
a circle like your pony."
You know son, it is important that you treat your servants
with compassion, like how I thought you to treat your pony."
"You mean not to kill her or anything, right Dad?"
"That is right son," Mr. Harini, laughed loudly and gave wife
the universal `I love this boy look'.
Laura, facing inwards towards father and son was forced to
step sideways as she was led in a circle, screamed in anguish
at the humiliation.
"Shut up cunt! Stop your bitching".
"Honey, please, no cursing in front of Rao."
"Sorry, mother. Rao, stop your woman for a second, I need to
explain something to her."
Laura, stood panting for breath, sobbing loudly, her fingers
between pinched neck and cold steel. Aware of the importance
of first impressions she had dressed for the job, cream blouse
with a high neck and low back, short skirt, stockings and
modest heels. Having just turned 23 her beasts were high and
firm. Her nipples made little points in her blouse.
In a low tone, inches from her face, Mr. Harini spoke, "Bitch,
you now belong to my 12 year old son. Your one job is to do
whatever he says. If you continue your screaming and whining
about freedom, what ever that means, I will have you stripped
and whipped like a donkey. I will not repeat myself. Now
accept your position, slut. You are to please my son. The
doors to this house and the gates on the property are
electronically controlled, there is no escape."
"Now apologize to my son and lovely wife."
There is a long silence as Laura remembers what it is like to
be whipped, to have your front teeth pulled out because they
scratched his dick. Then she did what she had to do.
"Please Mrs. Harini, accept my apologies" Lowering her head,
hand still to her neck, voice shaking, "Rao, sir, I am sorry".
The Harini's grinned. Mr. Harini said, " Good, good. We all
understand our places. Now Rao use the pole to make her sit on
the floor. Good boy! Mother did you see the expert way he
handled his woman? Very good son! Now push her on her back.
That's right. Mother did you have something to show him?"
Mrs. Harini put her camera on the desk and knelt beside the
quietly crying Laura. Carefully Mrs. Harini tucked her skirt
under her legs and motioned to her son to sit on the other
side of Laura.
"Roa, I want to show you the secrets of a woman's private
body. You are 12 and I know of the camera in Patkar's room,
and that you seen her breasts and her sex. Its all right, you
are a man, and men are allowed privileges with the servants.
I am going to show you the innermost secrets of this donkey."
With that, Mrs. Harini raised Laura's skirt. The skirt had
fallen under her legs and it took a second pull to raise it
over her waist. Laura was instructed to raise her bottom and
her Jockey panties were pulled to her knees.
"See what I mean! Father look, the slut shaves her hair!",
exclaimed the older woman. "Women that shave that are
whores!", she exclaimed. "Whore, I say."
"Son, this is her vagina, her cunt. It is the only thing that
trash like her value." You have read magazines and seen the
pictures and movies, so you know what everything is called. I
will show you the one thing that you have not seen, her
clitoris. It is her pleasure button, what she lives for. See
how by just opening her up, how it rises to greet you. This
is what the slut is made for. Rao, you are now a man and it
is your choice when she should receive pleasure or pain. You
can even teach her to accept pain as pleasure, like your
father thought me." She smiled up at her husband standing
over them.
"To give her pain is easy, just hit it. Go ahead. No. Not
so hard, see how she screams. You will wear her out too
quickly. Do it a little easier. That is better. You could
play with her like that for hours, and the last one would hurt
just as much."
"To give her pleasure takes a little practice. Rub the area
around her clitoris gently but firmly, like a man, like this.
Now you try it. Good. Wet your fingers in her vagina. Don't
be shy. Here let me show you. Just shove your fingers in
hard, like that. It looks like it would hurt her but she will
like it. Now you try it. Good. See how her hips move, in a
little while she will orgasm, I will show you that in class
latter."
"There is one more secret that a woman has...."
"Her mouth, Mom?", Rao asked.
"That is no secret. Her mouth is simply yours to control.
Just grab her hair or her ears, and move her head the way that
you like it. That is how your father thought me. The last
secret is her ass. It is really very simple. When you take a
woman's ass, she belongs to you. For the rest of her life she
will never forget a man that took her in the ass. Just be
careful for your penis can give her great pleasure and pain at
the same time."
The phone rang, breaking the spell. Mr. Harini quickly
answered it.
"Son, I am sorry to cut this lesson short but your Mother and
I have an important business matter to take care of. Go along
and play with your woman, there is a problem with a greedy
health inspector at cousin Budraju`s store".
Rao shook hands with his father, kissed his mother and skipped
from the room, the bamboo pole over his shoulder. In heels
with her legs chained together, panties hastily pulled up,
Laura struggled to keep up at the pole's end.
+++
Continued .... (split for posting)
-Stroker Ace-
12/26/94
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