- **Warning! For Mature Audiences. Explicit language and scenes. All events, characters and locations in this story are fictional, in no way meant to mimic or resemble any real person, place, or event.***
Chapter 28 Part 1
As Scott Alten waited to meet with his top Command in the Field de Flores, he could see the Nichole farm in the distance. His men were not going to like what he had to relate.
'The Nichole folks are made of stern stuff,' common sense reminded. 'Both Edith and Irene were once enslaved breeders. Both married men who had to buy their freedom so they had known who would eventually come for their daughters and what would eventually happen.'
The husbands had not been prepared to having to endure the spectacle of a porn film produced live, in their living room with daughters/nieces cast in the starring roles.
What Fred Nichole would never forget is Erin, his favorite of the three, eagerly gobbling Ivan Gorky's cock, or how she had begged and pleaded to suck another cock while Gorky destroyed her virginity. One hard dick up her cunt, those full mounds of breast meat swaying as Gorky shoved his hard-on deep into the depths of this beloved daughter and her mouth begging for more.
If he hadn't watched her grow from baby to infant, then infant to child, child to frustrating teen, and finally from that obnoxious, mouthy teen to what she was now, he would have been sorely tempted to have her himself.
Now, he burned with silent rage, burdened with the guilt of carnally craving a taste of his own flesh and blood. How much worse it must be for his son, Corey! A young man, their brother, not yet used to containing his lust for the promised delights of a fertile female!
And his wife!
Watching the woman who had vowed to forsake all others and save herself only for him! Edith was racked with guilt. As a thoughtful, caring husband, Fred had reassured her quite often in past days that he had known she was drugged, her body driven to perform acts that normally would never have tempted her to stray.
Damn! How long before he'd stop waking up with a rock-hard dick and heart that lusted after that lost, favorite daughter, Ember? Or admit to himself that the name Ember — forced upon her by Ivan Gorky — fit her better than the name Edith chose the day of Erin's birth?
'She is an Ember! She was a hot ember lying dormant until Gorky's serum turned her into a cock-hungry whore!'
Fred delayed getting out of bed, continued to stroke his meat, unable to block the mental images of his Erin, stark naked, forced to crawl behind Gorky like a dog, collared and leashed, the nipples of her breasts scraping the planked floor as he led her into her bedroom…
A flood of semen sprayed out of his cock and with a gruff note to his voice he made his first demand of the day. "Wake up, woman! Use your tongue to clean me up! I need to get out to that Satag field! There's hay to bale!"
With a sigh, Edith rolled over and performed as bidden, resigned to this new status of cock-whore with this beloved husband. Would she ever again be a treasured wife? Or forever doomed to be his sex-slut?
Once his Raiders settled themselves in a comfortable circle, Alten took one lingering glance at the farm below, watched Fred Nichole come outside, enter the barn and come back out on his baling machine while wife Edith went to the hutch behind the barn to gather eggs.
Aware the men around him waited expectantly to hear the reason they had been summoned, Commander Alten began his report concerning the rescue mission just completed in the northern quadrant of Grandma Rae's realm.
"Sixty-five slaves now out of Polar Slave Farm but not all are free. As we pulled them out and returned for more, the twenty we'd just rescued were captured again by Grandma Rae's men on Xarens. Flown to Tallawart Bridge where Slaver Pete scooped them up. When we realized, it was too late. Federal troops were moving in and we were forced to retreat. End tally: Raiders 15, Slayer Pete 50, Ronald Polar, 135."
His men had known the news would not be good, the absence of Scott Alten's cheerful demeanor had been clue enough to realize that.
"Men, our Polar mission was an abject failure. Do not allow that to dampen your dedication or focus with the fight against Grandma Rae. We have defeated her efforts more often than not. Let's continue to make each day as miserable for her as we can. That has been the main objective from the start and will continue to be.
"Fifteen women saved last night. That strengthened our number because all but two are from the Warrior cast and all are eager to join the resistance. Now… another matter of importance…"
Scott Alten paused to read an incoming message. Two flocks of xarens at the east & west entrances of Trehjo Valley.
Biting his bottom lip, Alten made a firm but difficult decision.
"Gorky walked the three Nicole sisters through Trehjo Valley. We know eight people entered but not one has come out."
Gasps hissed all around the circle.
"That canyon won't willingly release any soul who ventures through its hungry mouth!" One raider exclaimed.
"Why the valley? Why not use xarens?" Cried another.
Scott Alten had mentally dissected that mystery himself, relayed now the answer he'd come to. "He wanted play time with the sisters before delivering them to Pete. Enough time spent, they'll be loyal to him, not Pete."
"We have to go in! Find the girls. Bring them out."
Alten denied that action with a stern "No. Gorky and Deneke would use that to draw us deep into the canyon, set a trap to capture or kill us."
"So just stand here, watch the girls die?"
"We have no choice. I'm choosing instead to stake out the merchant markets. Hopefully, we'll snag a few that we lost last night. We'll buy or steal them, run them quick to Ruesakee or Salina Pirates, return to the merchants for more."
A loud collective "Humph" was reluctant acceptance. Then one final plea. "No way at all to make sure those sisters come out of that canyon alive?"
"No. Whatever happened inside that canyon is done. We can't risk lives or the freedom of our men to avert or alter an event we have no power over. What's done is done."
The men accepted that though some continued to grumble.
"Just doesn't seem right. That canyon has trails so narrow it's impossible to turn around to backtrack out of there."
"Steps disappear." "Narrow canyon. High cliffs." "Mirages. Rocks appear to bleed." "Sand dunes with buried nests of wasps." "Scarabs." "Yeah! Scarabs! Thanks, Earth. We could have done without that one!"
One of his men buried the thought he yearned to voice. 'Leave those sisters to suffer the terrors of Trehjo Valley?'
The man with that thought wisely kept silent knowing the sanity of those three girls were at far greater risk then their physical bodies.
When Pete Matte and the lost warrior he'd found at the valley's entrance finally arrived at the cliff where Deneke and Ember had fallen over the edge, Pete took his time evaluating the situation. One misstep and one or both would fall the other three hundred feet to Devil's Manor, a real hell hole if ever there was one.
"Ember's safe. Now for the General."
After determining logistics and making certain all involved understood, Pete set up the winch he'd pulled on the toboggan behind his mule. Gorky was strapped up and began to rappel down, determined to be the one risking his life… landed on the ledge in the exact spot Ember had occupied.
"You're risking more than your life, Gork. The sirens had you. They're in your head."
"Maybe so, but they failed to keep me. I swam out of that sand dune, and now, I'm gonna help get you out of here."
"I believe I broke a leg in that fall. My right femur. Maybe my hip and tibia as well."
"Once we do, you'll have to ride on my toboggan out of this canyon, then we'll through you on a xaren for a fast ride home." "How do you plan to get me back up there… without dropping me down there?"
Both men peered down into the rocky pit known as Devil's Manor.
"I brought a winch and enough horsepower to pull you right out of here. We'll plant that fat ass of yours on that skinny toboggan and slide you right out of this hell on Trog."
By working as he talked, Slaver Pete was nearly done fastening Deneke to the heavy industrial chain that would pull him up and out of the hole.
"Gork… if this works, once we're free of this canyon can we play a little? Reward ourselves with a little fucky-sucky?"
"You're Grandma Rae's favorite General. You think I'm going to go over your head to make that call?"
Deneke tried to laugh. "Guess that was a stupid request!" His laugh was a distraction that blinded him to the wave Pete sent to the top so was not prepared for the jolt that came as his belt was jerked off the jagged rock, dropping him down one foot further into the void.
'Deneke! Thought I'd lost you!' Berto's exclamation blasted his head. 'Thanks for the terrifying glance to the bowels of Trog! I could have lived my whole life without that scene in my head.'
'Scarier from my side, I assure you. Just talk me through the tedious climb.'
'Should you take that fuck break once your free of this canyon keep me in your head. I want to see it. Feel it.' There was no immediate reply to that, but Berto retained the visuals Deneke experienced.
He watched each inch of the wall as the winch pulled the General up with Gorky climbing up behind but to one side, just as Ember had done.
"Your leg will definitely keep you out of commission for a while." Gorky heard Pete yell that discomforting news down to Deneke while strapping him to the Toboggan. "You'll keep the Medical caste busy for a month or two. Grandma Rae ain't about to let any but the best of their profession tend her favorite General."
Deneke gave a weak grin then closed his eyes, mentally prepared for the jarring ride ahead of him. 'You want me to sign off, catch you later?' Berto wasn't certain he should linger.
'No.' Deneke was emphatic. 'Keep talking. I'd like you witness our fuck fest should I live long enough to indulge it.'
When Deneke was stabilized the group was ready to move. Pete climbed the horse of the still missing front scout. Deneke was laid out on the toboggan, Ember rode Jezzie, Pete's mule. With no further incidents the group exited the canyon soon after.
Ember knew the reason Gorky called a halt twenty minutes later. She'd been privy to the mental conversation between him and Berto. She was tired. The last thing she wanted to do was satisfy a hard cock…
But then… Deneke sent images to her, Berto, Pete, and Gork.
Images of her parents living room. His memories of Gorky's hard dick down her throat. A vision that made her tongue yearn to lick and taste it again. NOW.
A tongue that would lap at that hard stick from base to head, then the thin slit to get that first salty taste of blue semen. Now her cunt was screaming for hard cock and a strong body to shove it into her.
She wanted it on her knees, then her mouth on Deneke's cock while her cunny sucked to take more of Pete Gorky, or one of the warriors.
'Patience, little one. Let us get stopped. Once I'm comfortable I'll be quite happy to shove my hard dick down your throat.'
Almost immediately, mental images of a girl Ember didn't know, with a man she had just met telepathically while she was on the ledge, filled every conscious thought. She suddenly wanted to taste that cock too… wanted to between her legs, pounding her pussy, her backdoor, sliding between her breasts…anywhere and everywhere!
Ember was off her horse and at Deneke's side before her sisters were freed of the coffle chain, her hands grabbing his zipper, clumsy in there attempt to fondle his cock, only mildly aware that the warrior and Gorky were mimicking her efforts on her sister Blaze, or Slaver Pete and one of the men who traveled this rescue mission with him were doing that very same thing with Spark.
She was, however, very aware of another gentleman… barely glimpsed in those minutes between coming up from the ledge and put on the mule… a man with black skin and lascivious smirk.
Too hungry for that giant black cock to take offense at the mask of lust above it, Ember pushed her bottom as high in the air as she could, told him in the most vulgar terms she could think of that she'd accept that monster in any hole he wished to use.
Images of Berto using a belt to whip a girl tied to a pole caused her to lift her mouth from the head of his cock to plead, 'I want that, Master Deneke! Just like he is doing to her!'
'You shall have it, my sweet. Keep sucking. If it's good enough, I may project each of those lashes into your head. Your brain will believe they are real and you will feel their bite, just as Chick did when they were first delivered to her body far away from here.'
With his cock already in her throat all Ember could do was groan her desire to have that happen, the man behind her took slow possession of her front hole.
'Don't be so damned gentle about it, Master! Shove that black dick up my tight pussy! Plow it like you mean to drill it all the up to my throat so you can pee out of my mouth!'
The words seemed deranged once she'd said them but she'd worry about that later. Right now, all she wanted was to experience pain, the kind of pain that to her brought indescribable pleasure.
'I want to fuck you Berto! Thank you for getting us through those hours! I want you to whip me! Punish me for something! Doesn't have to be real! Any ruse will do! I want to serve you, Master Berto!'
'Jesus Berto! Swat this bitch so she'll shut the fuck up!'