The Order Of Zarathustra Ch 04

Crucible Chapter 4

The Ordeal

Rachel's last orgasm would have made her scream out loud if her mouth hadn't been filled with cock. Instead, her ecstasy came out as a series of intense moans. They were in the study, having a Crucible early so Khan and Kayden could catch their flight. Rachel was on her back on the oak table, laying on her handcuffed wrists, her ankles shackled to a chrome spreader bar. Kayden was holding on to the bar with both hands, making her Apprentice's legs point like a V straight up at the ceiling. She used the bar for leverage as she thrust her strap on dildo in and out of Rachel's helpless pussy. It was intentionally one inch larger than Khan's penis.

Rachel's intense moans of pleasure slowed and lengthened as her blonde Master slowed her thrusts. Khan had already came in Rachel's mouth a minute ago, and was squeezing the last few drops of come out into her mouth. She had swallowed most of it, but with her head off the edge of the table upside down, some semen and slobbery trails of spit ran across her face.

"You done? You're done." Kayden declared, pulling her rubber cock out so fast it made Rachel's eyes cross. She unhooked both of her ankles from the bar, getting the brunette Apprentice back on her feet. Khan came around the table to uncuff her, the three of them lingered in a close embrace.

"Good Crucible," Rachel murmured, drunk on orgasm. She patted both of her Masters on the shoulders. "Very, very good Masters. Rachel go night night now."

"Rachel go get dressed now. With the new airline screening we don't want to be late." Khan slapped both the ladies on the butts to steer them out. They dressed quickly and jumped in Khan's beat up old F-150. Rachel drove, and since Khan insisted his wife ride shotgun in order to wear the shoulder seat belt, his massive form sat comically wedged in between the two women. Rachel drove them out to Lambert airport as the hot June afternoon sun cooked everything.

Khan was feeling protective and kept repeating instructions. "Remember, safety first down there. You'll be by yourself for two weeks while we're at the Conclave. Watch for heatstroke, stay hydrated. Work safe with the chainsaw. And you have to, and I mean have to, call Alan from the cabin each night at five. If you're late, by 5:30 he will be driving down to check on you. It's a five hour round trip for him, so be considerate. Even 911 will take time out there."

"Yes, Daddy dear. You mentioned it and wrote it down. Just throwing it out there, if you guys took me with you, then you wouldn't have to worry..."

"No dice, babygirl," Kayden said, pulling Khan's arm over her shoulder to give him some room. "First year Apprentices never go to any Order functions. And the summer solstice Conclave is like the biggest one they do. It's like hundreds of porn stars getting together for a week long orgy. Makes Sodom and Gomorrah look like Branson."

"There's more than just sex," Khan said tersely. "There's Order business, and group seminars, and... well there's more than sex." Kayden pantomimed sucking a cock with a fake orgasm face the whole time he was talking.

Rachel pulled of interstate I-70 on to the airport driveway, turning into the TWA terminal dropoff. Their flight to San Juan left in a few hours. Khan grabbed the bags, they all hugged goodbye, and Rachel drove off back to Stone house. Alone. Not even Atlanta was there. Rachel had driven her to the fancy kennel this morning, after Kayden hugged their poodle and actually started crying. Who would have thought.

Two weeks alone! She parked and went through the empty rooms, wheels turning in her mind. Sure, she was supposed to go down to Khan's property tomorrow for her Ordeal, but tonight... she had been scheming all week what to do with a night off. She could be naughty. Order a pizza and go through their porn collection. Sample Kayden's toy box of vibrators. She entered the off limits media room and opened the cabinet. They had an impressive library of movies, both older VHS and the newer DVDs. The top shelf of each was nothing but high quality porn. Her nineteen year old mind reeled.

But then she reconsidered. Let out a long sigh. Sure, she could do this. But what was the point? This Ordeal, as well as being a physical trial, was supposed to test her resolve. If she had no self control, if she could only make good choices when others forced her, well then she wasn't even close to where she needed to be. A night of weakness was a poor way to start a trial of self reliance tomorrow. She reluctantly closed the cabinet.

Why wait? It's only four now. I could drive down there and set up camp by dark, then I'd have the jump on tomorrow morning.

She jumped into action. She loaded the truck with her backpack, sleeping bag, and tent. Then the box of cooking stuff and the cooler of food. Next the chainsaw, ten gallons of gas, and some long handled tools. Khan's truck box was a small workshop in itself. Kayden must have been bored waiting at the TSA screening lines, because Rachel's pager kept getting messages from her Blackberry like BOMB THREAT! STAY OUT OF MY DILDOS and THIS GUY IS STARRING IM GONNA FLASH HIM. Finally she got one last I HAVE GROUNDED HER FROM THIS TOY. GOOD LUCK BE SAFE.

Double checking she had it all, she grabbed the instructions and set the house alarm before locking up. The property Khan bought as his summer flip project was about two hours south of the city, down in the Ozarks. A valley of about 100 acres of wooded hills with a big field in the flat part. She was afraid she would get lost, but Khan had showed her how to read a map. Between her Rand McNally atlas and his written directions, eventually she pulled off the gravel road in front of the cabin.

It was a nice enough place, walls made of local wooden logs resting on a rock foundation. It had a long covered porch, a living room, kitchen, and 2 bedrooms. What it didn't have was a bathroom. The outhouse was a ruined wreck. The side of the house was still under construction. Khan had paid to have a well drilled, and at this point a capped metal pipe stuck out of the concrete slab that was to be the floor of the add on bathroom. Piles of rebar, concrete and cinder block stacked nearby would form the walls. Rachel would be drinking spring water and bathing in the creek for the next two weeks. She would learn to shit in the woods. She was completely alone out here. That was the Ordeal. She was so isolated that her little portable radio only got three stations: one country, one gospel, and one talk radio that had excellent weather reports. She would develop a hankering for Garth Brooks and Martina McBride.

She walked the property, going over the low hill to the back field. This was a huge, long expanse of waist high grass that hadn't been used as pasture in years. So long ago, in fact, that dozens, maybe hundreds of young cedar trees had colonized the field, dotting it like an army of green zombies. Rachel was here to cut all those zombies down.

She found a nice shady spot down by the creek, then went and got her gear. She was quite pleased with herself as darkness fell with her tent set up, fire started, ready to camp. She was so excited she could hardly sleep. She had Kayden's.357 revolver with her, but she didn't sleep with it, not exactly. Just kept patting it in the dark. Khan had thoughtfully provided her hearing protection and enough ammo that she could fire off about 20 rounds every day for practice. The thing sounded like a cannon and bucked even when she held it two handed, but she hoped the noise would keep bears away. She planned on wearing the belt holster around during the day. It made her feel like a badass cowgirl. That was the last night she had trouble sleeping. Every other night she was completely exhausted.

She reviewed Khan's instructions, written in his perfect calligraphy. Kayden had added a few notes in her own girly cursive.

Traverse the perimeter of the property every day, rain or shine. You may walk or run.

She did that every morning, waking as soon as it was light enough to see. The farm was about a half mile by a quarter rectangle, with the remains of a rusty old fence line following along the ridges of the hills that made the long sides of the valley. Then she would do morning yoga and meditations, out of habit. Aside from sounds of occasional distant motors and chainsaws, all was quiet.

Clear the field of cedars. Cut small ones to 8 ft and stack as fence posts; cut large ones to 12 feet to use as timbers. All other wood can be cut for firewood or discarded.

This was a murderous task worthy of Hercules. Day after day, she would fire up the chainsaw, cutting down the prickly cedars close to the ground so the field could be mowed later. The green branches were fed into smoky hot fires she kept going all day. She got smart on day two, driving the truck to the cut posts and piling them in. The larger logs were chained to the trailer hitch (with a Lark's head, of course) and dragged off to a growing pile by the cabin.

She quickly stopped being a slave to the clock and instead became a slave to the sun. It was late June, into early July. The open field in midday was a broiler. She sweat constantly, mixing up a gallon of Gatorade powder and spring water to drink every day. She washed out her dirty sweaty T shirts in the creek daily and hung them in the sun to dry. She was in the field before the sun was up, working until about ten when heat and exhaustion forced a rest. She would cook a late breakfast of sausage and eggs, then take a soak in the cool waters of the spring fed creek. She would go back to work later in the afternoon, and keep going until it became too dark to tell colors apart. She stopped only to rest and make a late supper of pork steaks or bratwurst and vegetables. Carbs were a fond memory for her and nothing more. After dinner she crashed into her sleeping bag. She had never worked so hard before in her life. She loved it and hated it.

Stay out of the cabin, except to call Alan.

Every evening, promptly at five, she would use the olive green phone hung on the wall, spinning the number dial around until she was eventually connected to Alan. He always seemed excited and nervous to hear from her. He asked her every day if she injured herself and if she had everything she needed. She suspected Khan had specifically ordered him to do that. He must have told him to avoid small talk, because no matter what, after just a couple of minutes, he would hang up, leaving her to her isolation. He seemed like a nice guy, just very shy, very introverted. She knew what that felt like! She resolved to be as friendly as possible with him.

Kayden's instructions were much more fun.

Don't play with yourself! And no fair hooking up with anybody in town either!

Rachel tried to be a good girl, she really did. But Monday, the third day she was there, was the summer solstice. Thinking about Khan and Kayden running around in swimsuits at a private resort, drinking fruity ice cold liquor, fucking each other, fucking other beautiful Zarathustrans, fucking other people in front of each other.... She was alone, and horny, and nineteen. She broke the seal on being a good girl that afternoon, and after that it was off to the races. She would masturbate herself to sleep in her bag each night, and also during each noon break. Made easier by Kayden's next edict:

Run around naked. A lot. Work on your tan naked. Nobody is around for at least a mile in any direction. Why not? You'll never get a chance like that. Run free. Buck naked, seriously.

So she did. She quickly found clearing brush using a chainsaw naked was a horrible idea; however, during her hot noontime breaks, she would take a thick quilted blanket out into the field, spreading it out. With the tall grass, nobody could really see her even if they were watching. She lay out naked every day, using tons of sunscreen, especially on parts that had never seen the light of day. She had to get used to the concept of being naked outside. She could just walk around camp, take a dip in the creek, and walk back naked as a jaybird. There really wasn't another house around for at least a mile. Every breeze felt like a lover's kiss.

And she masturbated. Oh how she fantasized! She realized her AA battery flashlight was perfect for her needs. The end cap even flared out a little like an angular penis head. If she slicked it up with her mouth for a minute first, it would slide into her pussy easily enough when she was ready for it. Day after day for a treat, she lay out in the hot sun, sweating and broiling, her hand pumping her flashlight in and out of her cunt. Her mind went wild. Her anxiety and fear of being out in the open turned into a thrill, which turned into fantasy. She imagined being watched by hungry eyes. She would put on a show for her imaginary audience. The woods became populated with shy farm boys sneaking a peek. Then lumberjacks lurked between the dark forest trees, lonely and horny. Then Vikings bent on rape and pillage.

Then bull shouldered Minotaurs. Then lumberjack Minotaurs! Fuck yeah!

Laying on her back, wearing nothing but sunglasses in an open field. Legs spread wide open, almost daring a peeping tom for a nice view. She like to start off slow, the act of putting on lotion becoming foreplay. Slicking up her breasts and ass especially, and then the tan lined patch around her pussy hair. Then lotion slicked fingers would press down on her clit in little circles, while the rough tips of her other hand tickled the folds of her pussy. She would keep the flashlight in her mouth so it wouldn't get dirty, but also so she could fantasize about having a man in her mouth, kneeling above her, watching her perform. Then she would use the light in a manner not intended by the designer. Slowly pushing it in, it worked better if she held it firmly in place and then rotated her hips. She regretted every day not raiding Kayden's impressive stash of sex toys, but every day orgasms would come quickly enough, allowing her to look up at clouds in a blue sky in blissful afterglow. Then it was a dip in the creek and back to her tasks.

Her fantasies had definitely ran more into more submissive themes since she became an Apprentice. She had often played with herself to the power dynamic. Student and teacher. Cop and helpless motorist. Landlord and tenant. But now she though much more about having her hands tied behind her back. Or being strapped spread eagled to a giant bed. Or being pinned over a bar while twenty guys watched to wait their turns. She loved just letting go and letting her two Masters push her along. She trusted them. They would take her where she wanted to go, but didn't quite dare to.

She even tried running the perimeter of the farm naked. That ended quickly because of her big ol 38Ds flopping around. She ended up wearing her sports bra, sneakers and gun holster belt. That's it. Running naked through the woods on trails she was familiar with, in the gathering light of dawn, felt exhilarating. She was an Amazon warrior. She was Artemis incarnate. She tripped on a root in the gloom and went sprawling. She was a limping Amazon warrior.

She would spread out her quilt near the creek for morning yoga and meditations. She started doing that in the buff as well. She sat cross legged, listening to nature as the sunlight woke up the forest, and meditated on the Code of Zarathustra.

Peace is a Lie; there is only the Struggle

.

She understood that one better now that she was out here. Nature is always a struggle. Those pretty bird calls singing in the trees? She knew they actually meant things like 'I'm a big male and I'm here to fuck your girlfriend' or 'Everybody look out! Predator!' Squirrels and bunnies are fast because they are delicious. It didn't matter if you were a deer or a wolf. Only one can be faster. If you were the slow one, you were going to have a bad day. Same way with people. If you were taking it easy, lying on the couch watching TV and eating Doritos, it might look like you were peaceful. But really you were just losing the race. Somebody was gonna eat you.

The Struggle makes you Stronger

.

Well she certainly got that one! Her constant daily workouts and training with her Masters had prepared her well for this Ordeal. There was no way she could have done this even six months ago. She had lost maybe 30 pounds of fat, and gained strength and stamina. And confidence. She was proud of her body now, or at least not ashamed of it like she was in high school. Nobody ever got stronger laying on the couch.

Through Strength, I gain Power

.

Power is the ability to get things done. If you have no strength to do anything, you cannot effect change. You have no power. But this Ordeal had shown Rachel that didn't just mean physical strength. That was the obvious part. The inner strength, the quality that made her roll out of her bedroll in the dark, sore all over, yet pop some Aleve and get her shoes on. That was the real strength the Stones were teaching her. Without the discipline to motivate yourself, without that internal strength, it didn't matter what shape her body was in. Nothing would get done.

Through Power, I achieve Victory

.

Blindly getting stuff done isn't success, especially if it's stuff other people want you to do. You have to have a plan, a goal. She gamed out every day during mediations now. Her mental to do list. A set of tasks to accomplish a set of goals. Those were her victories. Being a fast wolf only mattered if you closed the deal and made the kill. If all your struggling and getting things done doesn't achieve your goals, it's useless. Undirected power is wasted energy.

Through Victory, my chains are Broken

.

The Order of Zarathustra was trying to make a nation of superior, independent people. People free of social conventions. Your parents, friends, boyfriends -- they all do things the 'normal' way. Then they bitch about not being successful. Then they try to stop you from being 'different'. Accomplishing your own set of victories means you get to decide how to live your life. For Rachel, that was a huge revelation. She had always lived under her mother's thumb. Telling her she was moving in with Khan and Kayden was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. But finally, the summer she was 19, she felt like an adult. She felt free. And naked.

Kayden was supposed to come get her on July 3

rd

. The afternoon on the first of the month brought heavy dark thunderclouds. It had rained a few times before, but it never looked this bad. The radio said tornado watches and warnings. Rachel quit work early, secured the camp as the wind started to whip up, and ran to the cabin just as a hell of a thunderstorm broke loose.

She watched the storm rip through, then settle down into a solid rain. She hoped her stuff was alright. She was almost done with the field, and could afford a rain delay. It wasn't quite five, but she decided to call Alan a little early. She was curious about him. From what little she could gather, Khan had apparently done him a couple favors a few years ago. Did some work on his house, gave him some money or something. Whatever it was, Alan definitely had a near slavish devotion to the big man. When Rachel picked up the phone, she decided to press him a little.

Let's see if I can't knock him off balance

, she thought.

Get him hot under the collar

.

After the customary questions about her well being, she tried to get him to open up.

"Alan? Let me ask you something. If I didn't call, or if I said I needed you, you would drive right down, right? Wouldn't anybody wonder where you went? Your wife, or?"