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WASTELAND CHAPTER 20
“Put on some clothes,” S’Leah snapped.
Kyuri jerked awake. She had been curled up on S’Leah’s bed, waiting for her to return, and had accidentally fallen asleep. If she’d done the same while waiting for the Princess she would’ve been whipped.
S’Leah tossed the robe to the floor and opened the closet. She hurriedly dressed in a two-hole black rubber titshirt and black leathyr pants, while Kyuri knelt on the bed wearing nothing but a confused look. The holes in the rubber through which S’Leah pulled her breasts were smaller than the breasts themselves, which made them bulge and firmed them into globes sitting high on her chest.
S’Leah finished lacing up her boots and looked around. She stuffed everything of hers she could find into her case, then noticed Kyuri still undressed and staring stupidly at her.
“Move!” she shouted. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” And she was out the door.
S’Leah passed two people in the hallway, but that couldn’t be helped, and hopefully wouldn’t matter anyway. She doubted they saw her face, anyway; they only had eyes for her breasts.
The big doors were closed now, no one around. She quietly pushed one open and peered into the big room, poorly lit by tiny bulbs in the corners. It was empty, but for the one wall panel.
Hurrying now, for time was growing short, S’Leah moved to the wetwall and tried to figure out how to open it. The blonde was still folded over inside it, asleep or unconscious. Her lower half was glazed with dried secretions, and her short hair was matted and crusty.
After at least two days folded up in the trunk, and another day bent in two inside the wetwall, S’Leah knew she’d have to carry the woman. There was no way the blonde would be able to walk.
The binders around her wrists and ankles were simple things disengaged by small throw-levers. But S’Leah just could not figure out how the wall came apart. She remembered the staff sliding the wall panels into an adjoining room at the end of the party. The wide doorway to that room was still open, and she put her shoulder to the panel’s edge. It slid easily in the track buried in the floor, right toward the open doorway.
It was only as the wetwall thumped to a stop at the end of the track that S’Leah looked up to see the two blonde aides lying on mattresses against the wall. They sat up, slowly, rubbing sleep from their eyes. S’Leah put them down with vicious elbow strikes, then snapped their necks—she was creating a false story, one that didn’t involve her, and the two young ladies couldn’t be left alive on the off-chance they’d seen her before she put them down. When she turned from the limp bodies, sprawled limbs akimbo on their mattresses, she saw the blonde was awake and looking at her.
“Just be quiet and I’ll get you out of here,” S’Leah whispered quickly, looking around frantically for some tool or trick to open the wall. Finally she noticed a bolted latch on one edge, and then comprehended how the wall worked.
She unlocked the blonde’s wrists and ankles from the wall, then unhooked the support leash from the collar around her neck. When she slipped the big bolt on the edge of the wall the top half of it now pivoted on concealed hinges.
The upper wall tilted to the side in a slot carved into the ceiling. It moved easily, apparently somehow counterweighted. As it cracked open the blonde’s thighs came up a little, then rose no further as the wall opened enough for her to exit. S’Leah figured it would be hours before she’d be able to straighten her legs.
S’Leah bent down and, one arm under the blonde’s shoulders and one arm under her hips, lifted her out of the wetwall. She had moved no more than a step when the blonde exploded in her arms, stunning her with a hard blow to the head and then somehow sweeping S’Leah’s feet out from under her.
S’Leah went down, but got her arm hooked around the blonde’s neck as she fell backwards. They landed with a thump on the floor and S’Leah felt a knee hammer up between her legs into her testicles. The blow would have stunned a normal man, but S’Leah was neither, and could take with a smile pain that would have made strong men faint.
S’Leah wrapped her huge thighs around the blonde’s skinny waist and squeezed. The blonde gargled and twitched, but somehow found the strength to wrap her hands around S’Leah’s throat. They were on their sides on the floor, facing each other.
The blonde’s face was a study in fury, bright red. “You raped me!” she spat, understandable even with the ring gag still in place. Her harsh voice grew hoarse as S’Leah’s thighs slowly crushed her body.
“I had to! If I hadn’t, the Princess would have known something was wrong, and you would still be a prisoner. Is the wetwall more to your liking?”
As strong as she was, S’Leah could not pry the hands from her neck, and her vision was starting to get fuzzy. The blonde’s face was nearly purple from the scissorlock, but still she would not yield. S’Leah brutally punched her in the ribs, and the hands around her neck loosened, but not enough. S’Leah balled her fist up again and punched her even harder, this time in her breast. With a cry the blonde released her hold on S’Leah’s throat and hugged herself.
S’Leah gasped for air, then released the blonde from the scissorlock and booted her away. She slid a few feet on the floor and then stopped, hugging herself and gasping. S’Leah staggered to her feet, ignoring the pain between her legs, and tried to catch her breath.
“Come with me if you want to leave this place,” S’Leah told her as soon as she found the air. “You do not have the time to find your own way out.”
The blonde pushed herself to her knees and coughed, fighting the urge to vomit. “Why should I trust you?”
“What other choice do you have? But we have no time, you must hurry.”
“Why? It’s obvious no one has heard us.” Just then the house erupted in a clamor as the alarm bells rang throughout. S’Leah was surprised it had taken this long, but was glad. The blonde looked around in fear.
“The house is on fire. And now there is no time.” S’Leah stood up. “The time is now. Stay or go.” She turned and started for the doorway. The larger room was still vacant, and she jogged for the exit. When she reached the doors she turned, and the blonde was there. S’leah gave an almost imperceptible nod, then cracked the door.
The hallway was echoing with footsteps and shouts, but no one was in view. S’Leah moved out and began running slowly down the wide hall. No sooner had they committed themselves when people ran into view from both directions. Everyone was running, though, and most in various states of undress. S’Leah and the blonde, still nude, passed unnoticed in the growing din, as the staff and guests hurried for the exits.
Kyuri was as obedient piece of property as any master could hope for, but he was not very bright, and lost focus when rushed. S’Leah had ordered him to dress, and quickly—from the rush she’d left in Kyuri figured he had but a few minutes, but this was not his quarters, and held none of his clothes. He’d arrived wearing nothing but shoes and a gag. He didn’t dare race to his small room to get clothing, and so he frantically began tearing through the closets in this room, hoping to find something, anything. It was with a giant sigh of relief that he found several outfits, his own, left in the room by him the last time he’d been here entertaining guests.
The one-piece was black and made of some thin, stretchy material that showed his every curve. It had long sleeves and a scoop neck front that made his breasts appear bigger than they really were. The one-piece was cut high on the hip and had a thong back that exposed his shapely, feminine buttocks. His stoneless, cock-filled bag was pressed flat between his legs, under the narrow strip of material. His crotch looked just like a woman’s at any distance beyond three feet. He had just pulled on the outfit’s matching legwear when the door burst open.
S’Leah took one look at Kyuri in the skintight one-piece and the black rubber toe boots that hugged his thighs all the way to his buttocks and shook her head. That was his idea of clothing?
Kyuri stared at S’Leah, just now hearing the alarms. Behind her stood a familiar-looking blonde, lean and butchy. Kyuri couldn’t remember where he’d seen her before. She was nude and had angry red marks all over the left side of her ribcage.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” S’Leah yelled at Kyuri. “The house is on fire!” She grabbed her case.
Kyuri’s first concern was for his Mistress, but S’Leah didn’t allow him any time to think. She herded him down the hall to the stairs to the first floor. There they joined the crowd pushing out the main entrance.
The Princess’ guests filled the courtyard and looked up, pointing and yammering. S’Leah glanced upward too.
The fire she’d set in the linen closet directly underneath the Princess’ quarters had gone undetected much longer than she ever could have hoped. By the time the alarm had gone off and the guards rushed in, the fire had already filled the Princess’ bedroom. The smoke was so thick the guards were overcome, mere feet from the bed on which she lay.
The water bots were now deployed along the outside of the house, but the flames ran all the way to the roof. The Princess’ quarters were gone, and no one but S’Leah knew where she was. Confusion reigned, and the guards had all left their posts to fight the fire and rescue those inside who were bound in place.
“This way,” S’Leah murmured, pushing through the crowd, pulling Kyuri by the hand. The blonde followed, darting her eyes this way and that, but no one recognized her or thought anything of her nudity. At least a dozen other people in the courtyard were without clothing, the heat from the fire driving away the cool night air. One nearby slave girl had her bare breasts freshly sewn together, top to bottom, either as punishment or play, a few of the holes still oozing blood. Her lower crevice was laced together as well, with a leather thong, but this was no new experience—the thong ran through brass eyelets embedded in her flesh that had been in place so long they had begun to discolor with age.
S’Leah ran out of crowd to hide in before she was halfway to the gate, but saw they were hanging open unattended. Several other guests had the same idea, perhaps thinking it was safer outside the walls in case the fire spread to the other buildings. S’Leah led her pair past the huge gates and out into the darkness a good way before turning around.
The burning house was a bright beacon in the night, the only light for miles around other than the stars. The handful of other people outside the gate were all staring at the house too, talking nervously amongst themselves.
Facing the house, S’Leah slowly began backing up, dragging her two companions with her. Kyuri struggled slightly, but made no move to remove his gag. The other people never noticed the trio fading away, into the blackness. When they were several hundred yards from the wall S’Leah stopped and looked around. In the dim starlight she could just make out the line of the road to her left, heading directly west. Everything else was grass-covered gently rolling hills in all directions. Squinting, she looked around until she saw what she was looking for, a depression slightly lower than the rest of the ground. She hooked her fingers through the strap of Kyuri’s gag and pulled him with her to the small dip. He stumbled in the darkness, whimpering.
When they were at the depression, S’Leah looked around again, then had her knife out and buried in Kyuri’s neck before he even saw it. The fingers of her other hand laced in his hair, S’Leah pulled his head back and sliced open his throat neatly, then rode his bucking body down to the ground and held it there until he bled out. After not much more than a minute she stood up, to see the blonde standing a few short feet away, glaring at her.
“He was no threat to you,” she said accusingly.
“Not physically, but he could get fingers to point in my direction,” S’Leah told her matter-of-factly.
“So now you will kill me too?” the blonde asked, eyeing the dripping knife.
“No,” S’Leah said. She bent down and wiped the long blade off on the dewy grass. “We will travel together for a time, and then go our separate ways. If they ever get so far as to start a tracker after us, you will be the one they pursue as the Princess’ killer. If I kill you, then all suspicion falls on me.”
The blonde nodded, carefully watching as S’Leah put the knife away. “We must be far away from here before daybreak,” S’Leah said. She looked at her companion for the first time. The blonde was starting to shiver in the cool night air. S’Leah dug in her case and handed her the suitjacket she’d worn on the trip to the estate. “What’s your name?”
The blonde pulled on the jacket and quickly buttoned it. It was better than nothing, but left her legs exposed, as well as everything below her waist. S’Leah looked for the pants or the blouse that went with the jacket, but couldn’t find them.
“Izumi,” the blonde told her. She stared at S’Leah distastefully, but made no move to leave.
S’Leah took her bearings from the stars, then pointed north-northeast. “We go that direction,” she said. “As fast as you can.” S’Leah knew that she could run all night and through the next day before her legs gave out, but her companion was another story.
“How far?” Izumi asked.
“We’ll stop at dawn,” S’Leah told her.
“And then what?”
“And then maybe you’ll be too tired to ask me questions,” S’Leah snapped. “Let’s go!” She stopped only once, a hundred yards farther on, and looked back, but Kyuri’s body was invisible. Then she jogged on again, at a slow pace the blonde tried hard to match.
Izumi traveled through the night, barefoot and cold, without complaint, until the morning sun began to light up the sky. S’Leah’s original plan had been to dump Izumi sometime during the night, to let her find her own way. But then she’d also thought the blonde would be nearly crippled from the trunk and wetwall, and didn’t understand why that hadn’t been so. If the Clan discovered the Princess had been murdered, S’Leah had counted on the blame being leveled at Izumi, who would be missing from the house. Since it didn’t appear that the Princess’ death would be attributed to anything other than the fire, Izumi herself became the biggest threat, but S’Leah didn’t want to kill her as there was no way to be sure exactly what the specialists might discover when they examined the Princess’ body. Also, for some reason, S’Leah was hesitant to kill her. Whether it was the blonde woman’s spirit, or some sympathy for her plight, she didn’t know.
“We’ll rest here,” she told Izumi, as the bright face of the sun washed over the rolling plains. They were in a small hollow, and would be hidden from view once they sat down.
Izumi sat on the grass and massaged her stiff legs. The soles of her feet were blistered and sore, but luckily they’d been traveling on grass all night. S’Leah looked around, studying the horizon.
“Did you even break a sweat?” Izumi asked her.
“Not after just twenty miles, at barely more than a walk,” S’Leah said. She looked over at Izumi, sitting with her bare rump on the grass. Now that the sun was rising into the sky, she wouldn’t be cold for long.
“You should get some sleep,” S’Leah told her. “I’m going to look for some food, and hopefully water, not that I’ve got anything to carry it in.”
Izumi looked up at her and squinted. She studied S’Leah for a long time, not saying anything. “What are you?” she said finally.
“Excuse me?” S’Leah said, thinking the blonde was talking about her endurance.
“What are you?” Izumi repeated. “Are you a woman or a man? To the eye you are all woman, except when you take off your pants. That I know only too well.” She eyed S’Leah with hostility. S’Leah opened her mouth, but was given no chance to speak.
“Friend or foe?” Izumi challenged. “You free me, and help me escape, and give me your jacket, but last night it was you and you alone who was the first to rape me. I still taste your seed, the first on my tongue. You were fast friends with Princess Knotcunt, but unless my wits have left me, you set fire to the house to make good your escape. And then you killed that piece of tail who was too stupid to realize you’d probably killed his beloved Princess. Was freeing me only a distraction to any would-be pursuers? This is no personal grudge, I can see that in your eyes. So I ask again, what are you?”
“I could ask you that question as well,” S’Leah shot back. “How many days were you bound in that trunk? Two, three, more? And then mounted on the wall, folded in two like a book? After the first hour I would have lost all feeling in my legs, and yet you come out spinning and fighting. My bag is still swollen,” she told her angrily, “from your knee.”
Izumi smiled a little proudly. “You deserve more than that,” she told S’Leah. “You still raped me, no matter the excuse.”
S’Leah had to admit, Izumi had grit. And she had a secret, of some sort, that she wasn’t willing to share. At least not yet.
“I’m going to look for some food,” S’Leah told her.
“How do I know you’re coming back?” the blonde asked her.
S’Leah didn’t answer. “Whether I do or not, you still need to get some sleep,” she said over her shoulder as she climbed the small rise. “I’ll be back before too long.”
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