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Alone in the dark

 
Reavy's picture
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Reavy woke up in complete darkness. How long has she been here? Hours, days, weeks perhaps. Her whole body was sore and her mind was a misty haze. All she remembered were torn pieces of something

that felt like a dream. Unable to even remember who she was, she tried to move just to realize her hands are chained quite high to the wall. Hours passed as she sat there in darkness, her memories slowly

coming back in pieces. Soldiers, a weapon, familiar faces cropped up in her mind that gave her the feeling of belonging somewhere.

 

Voices suddenly broke the silence and someone switched the light on in the corridor leading to her cell. "Get her cleaned and prepared, we'll put her up for sale tonight"  voice of old woman ringed through

the corridor in a commanding tone. "But her training is not complete, we did not properly break her yet." a much younger male answered hesitantly. "Some of our customers like it when they fight" woman

answered, soon joined by a third voice "And don't think about doing anything more than washing her"

"Let him have some fun before we ship her out, she's his favourite" the woman replied mockingly and added more instructions: "But do it before she's cleaned, can't show her off all messed up right after

all the bruises healed. And no more drugs. She had enough yesterday to last 'till the evening and we want her looking feisty."


More memories surfaced in Reavy's mind in a moment dim light hanging on the the ceiling illuminated the room as the switch clicked on the other side, followed by a key sliding into a lock. Few moments later the solid

wooden cell door with barred window slowly opened, making a creaking noise. Rather young man walked in with a bucket, soap and a sinister grin "Still drugged up eh? Wake up bitch!" he snarled as Reavy's eyes

squinted at him, she gotten used to the darkness but a swift kick in the side quickly woke her up. "Gotta have you nice and clean by the evening, but first..." the man closed on her, opening zipper on his pants.

He briefly turned and looked behind, just to make sure he has his privacy. In a split second Reavy pulled on the chains, raising herself just enough to swing her legs upwards and wrap them around his neck. Pulling him

closer she tightened the grip. He tried to call for help, but in that moment with a quick move, his neck snapped. In the end he did get between her legs, just not in a way he wanted. As Reavy tried to reach for the keys he

dropped, sound of heavy boots echoed through the corridor. There were more guards, miscalculation on her part. Soon a shotgun bearing thug came to look what was the ruckus he heard. This time she'd get off without

a beating she would usualy get for any sign of resistance, even though she killed the man. She had to look nice...

 

Comments

Lance Striker's picture

(( Guess she'll be needing a rescue then?

Lonely are the brave...

Reavy's picture

 // Honestly, i have no idea :D

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Joe Spivey's picture

((Drugged and chained is some men's idea of fun. With Reavy it's just Health and Safety.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.



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