Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Fiction: fs01 - Part 41

Author’s note: 
This takes place the morning after Part 40.

Day 03

Morning brings pain.  My body still aches from the day before, I’m unable to tell which is worse, the muscle aches from moving sandbags or the beating after the interview.  I feel like I’m becoming a ghost; Lauren has been my lifeline.  I feel detached from Mistress.  I want to believe it is just an act and that it is intentional to keep me from leaning on her but I can’t tell.  It feels like a month since we were close but I know that is my brain playing tricks on me. 

Feeding followed by headcount followed by transport.  I have adapted quickly to the routine.  The audio loop wears on me, its words seeming more real, more believable, and more honest as time passes.  Mistress and Lauren tug at my psyche in opposite directions.  Mistress fills me with longing, I want to embrace her and feel her warmth; her behavior keeps me at arm’s length.  I feel distant and rejected.  Lauren warms my soul with her kindness.  I want to please her.  I want her to think well of me.  I feel conflicted and guilty and I wonder if Mistress will think my heart is unfaithful.

The day passes more easily than the last.  The coat isn’t much but it is far better than nothing.  The snow is easier to navigate having been trampled down for the past 2 days.  Today Mistress is more aloof than aggressive; she barely looks at me.  Lauren continues to cheer me on.  I pass every quota with ease, earning lunch along the way, and Lauren greets me with a hug upon finishing the last pile.  The scent of her perfume fills my nose.  She is very sweet.  I relax my mind with feelings of accomplishment and relief.  My tired joints ache and throb but this stage of hell is finally over. 

Dinner and headcounts follow.  I rest with one eye open, anticipating the interview and ensuing nightmare that will surely follow.  Time passes slowly.  The final headcount before lights out comes and goes without incident.  The fear that they will be coming for me lingers.  I think of Mistress but begin to feel sad.  I shift my thoughts to Lauren and cling to the hope she will be with me tonight.

I wake from my light sleep the sound of footsteps.  She approaches in the dark without a flashlight; her scent tells me it is Lauren.  My body perks up in anticipation. My angel is here to comfort me. 

“Will you lay with me tonight?”
She parts her coat and taps the end of her Reverb strap-on against the bars.  I shuffle to the front of the cage and nod furiously.  She leads me across the dark building to her room.  Lauren opens the door.  The lights are out and it’s completely dark.  She takes me by the arm and pulls me inside.  The door closes behind us and I hear the lock click.  The audio loops in my headset stops.  Another click and the ceiling light illuminates the room. 

My eyes go wide with shock.  Mistress sits on a chair on the far end of the room.  The desk has been moved to the middle.  Tabitha and Dominique stand on either side of me, their coats parted displaying their Reverbs, shining and dripping with lube.  I turn to Lauren and she motions to the others with the movement of her head.  They grip my arms, force me around, and slam my chest down on the desk. 

A metal collar is placed around my neck and locked to a metal ring mounted on the far side of the desk.  I break into a panic-induced struggle.  Their hands hold me firmly in place.  I look up at Mistress.  She sits motionless, my panic-stricken eyes reflect back at me from the tinted lenses of her mask.  I hear Lauren’s voice behind me.

“Hey Cass, I think you owe me that case of beer.”
“I concede my defeat, Lauren.  You were right, kindness was more effective than cruelty at motivating him through stage 1.”
“I’ll take a case of honey wheat, something micro preferred.  I’m sure by now he’s figuring out that it was all just an act to gain his trust, motivate him, and now it’s time to crush him. What do you think is going through his mind right now?”

My eyes tear up with her words.  I feel my heart rip in two.  Tears well up in my eyes.
“Why don’t you take off his gag and find out for sure?”

She roughly unlocks the straps and yanks the gag from my mouth.  My words come out in a mix of frantic sobs. 
“Miss Lauren?  This isn’t you, right?  Miss Lauren?”
“Mith Lauren, Mith Lauren.”  She mocks me with her tone.  “Yes, this is me.”

I struggle again to rise but the collar lock holds me in place.  Tabitha and Dominique’s hands prevent me from shuffling around.  I flex my hands, fidgeting my fingers wildly behind my back. 
“What are you going to do to me?”
“What do you think I’m going to do?  I am going to rape you.”
“Please don’t do this, Miss Lauren.  Please don’t do this.  You were so kind to me before.  Please, no, stop.”
“It’s just like I remember it.  You see, I was raped once.  My freshman year I met a football player at a party.  He was a junior and a starter.  He was so nice and sweet, he took me out and showed me a good time.  I trusted him.  When he invited me to his room to watch a DVD he was borrowing I was excited.  A chance to connect, a chance to bond, a chance to snuggle together and be close.  It was all lies.  He locked his door, threw me down on the bed and raped me.  I begged and pleaded, crying out for the boy he was the day before.  They school refused to do anything about it.  The betrayal hurts doesn’t it? Knowing that no one is there to save you.  It hurts almost as much as what I’m about to do to you, but since there are 3 of us, this probably will hurt even more.  I can’t wait to defile you.”

I cry.  I scream.  I buck wildly.  I beg.  I plead.  Stop.  Please stop. 

She enters me.  Violated.  I shriek and wail, my neck cranes, my eyes turn to Mistress.  Lauren thrusts into me, pumping her hips in rhythm.  My words slur into the wails and sobs.  My eyes plead with Mistress to act, to save me, to protect me.  She takes a deep breath and parts the lower half of her coat.  She uncrosses her legs.  I watch in vain as her fingers find her crotch and begin to rub.  I shut my eyes tight and bawl. 

The pain in my soul tears me apart from the inside.  It hurts far worse than her thrusts and pumps.  I slump my head down on the desk and sob.  I am broken.  I feel myself detach.  I no longer resist as Lauren has her way with me.  Eventually she stops, I assume she had an orgasm.  She trades places with Tabitha.  Tabitha’s voice enters my headset.

“I don’t have a fancy story like Lauren.  My rape was awful.  It hurt me.  It terrified me.  I refuse to be weak ever again.”
My body lies limp.  I barely feel her enter me.  This isn’t happening to me, it’s someone else… please let it be someone else.  My eyes glaze over.  I’m not me.

Tabitha switches with Dominique.  If not for the headset, I doubt I would hear Dominique’s voice at all. 
“Hello, little one.  I’ve waited a year for this.  Your precious Mistress prevented it the first time but she gave me her blessing today.  How does it feel knowing that she’s getting off to this?”
My sobs intensify.

“Oh, little one.  I’m so disappointed you’ve already used up all your screams before it was my turn, but I’m already wet enough to make it work.”

I’m not me.  With dead eyes I shift my gaze to Mistress.  She rubs herself furiously while squirming around In the chair.  I cease to exist.  When they finish they depart the room and leave me locked to the desk in the dark.  A while later the door opens again.  Mistress holds the camera in her hand and points it at my face.  Tabitha’s voice reaches me.

“Inmate 001, how do you feel?”
I sob, chest heaving, pausing only to choke on my tears.

The camera beeps. 
“He’s ready for stage 2.”



  1. I've been waiting for Lauren to show her true colors. Fur, you show no mercy to fiction fur. Is all lost for him?

    1. Thank you Lady Grey. It has been a huge trial to "write my way out of prison." The end is near :)

  2. Lauren is evil. No offense furcissy, but I hate this arc. Crying for fs and what this is doing to him. Mistress Cass does not deserve his love and devotion. I will continue reading on...it is incredibly well-written and evoking emotion from the very depths of my soul...but I hate it (which is actually a compliment, I suppose).

    1. No offense taken, Nora. The feedback to this arc as a whole was rather negative from most readers. It definitely went down a much darker fantasy line than anything else I had written since the first arc.

      An odd observation is that the male sub readers that favor the strictest types of lifestyles often told me that this was their favorite arc.

      Take care.