All the characters in this story are over 18. Dedicated to my darling Pixie.
The Hunt - Chapter 7
Bridesmaid Visit
"Alice!" Little Slut called as she walked along the hedge. Yet, it seemed useless.
Even the attics had been unlocked and explored, as well as all their contents searched. Things were so desperate that the authorities had been called, disregarding the scandal that would inevitably ensue.
Little Slut's arrival drew little attention; the family had allowed her into the house but had taken no further notice.
Little Slut wandered the grounds; she was informed that Alice had been celebrating her impending wedding when she had disappeared. No one had seen her go; she took nothing with her, not even a parasol. Little Slut, an analytical little creature, was certain that one needed to start the search where Alice had last been seen.
Little Slut had gone to the spot; she found the small hedge gate.
'Strange, why had no one mentioned this?' She could not see the end of the hedge tunnel as it curved out of sight. 'Alice must have gone in here.'
The gate opened silently; it was small, hardly large enough for Alice, so Little Slut guessed. As herself being tiny, the gate was undoubtedly adequate; and it was at least a fresh trail to follow.
With one last look back at the frantic searchers, she stepped through the gate and into the gloomy tunnel beyond.
She carefully searched for any sign that Alice had also passed the gate, she found none, but all the same, somehow knew Alice had indeed gone that way.
So focused, she did not notice the gate quietly closing until it securely locked behind her. Only then did she discover that there was no latch on the inside, nor could even her small hand pass between the bars. So, with the gate closed and locked, the only option was to press on through the tunnel.
"Alice!" Little Slut called as she ventured deeper into the passage; she thought it strange that the hedge had not seemed so thick, but Little Slut realized she could no longer hear the frantic search beyond in the garden only a few steps behind her.
At first, sunlight filtered through the leaves and branches of the hedge, but with each step, the light diminished finally to total darkness.
"Alice!!" Little Slut could almost feel the sound of her voice being swallowed up by the thick foliage about her, but she continued her trek. After all, there was no point in going back, the gate was locked, and besides, there were plenty of searchers there, and she knew she must find Alice.
She could no longer see the gate behind, and her eyes could see only vague shapes; she felt panic rising but pushed it down.
"Silly cow, just a few steps more." She reassured herself, and with those same steps, she could finally see a distant light. It was all she could do to control her desire to run to the spec of light and escape from this green prison.
As she had followed the tunnel, its walls had become narrower, and the ceiling lower and lower; finally, she had been forced to crawl on her belly, pulling the bodice tightly as she went. The position put unbearable pressure on her nipples and rent her dress. Finally, her progress was blocked by a small gate she could barely squeeze through, rendering her dress further as if in some final insult as she passed out into the forest beyond.
The gate opened onto a path through an ancient forest, not a bucolic walk on manicured lawns or even park woods that Little Slut might have expected. Instead, the space past the gate was a rough and tangled trail through a wildwood. It was filled with trees towering high above, with shorter trees fighting for light, and below that tall, dark-leaved bushes, with the ground covered by a mad assortment of plants, from flowers to vines all growing higgledy-piggledy in every direction, except for the path just beyond the gate. At the entrance, the trail started running to the left along the hedge, then dropping down into the shadows of the forest. It appeared that a path once ran to the right but was now wholly impassable, overgrown, and choked with undergrowth sporting long sharp black barbs glistening with dew in the sparse light.
"Can anyone hear me?" Little Slut shouted back across the hedge.
'Surely, this hedge is not so thick that they cannot hear!' She was confident that they must hear her shouts, but there was no reply. Indeed, she could not discern the sounds of anyone on the other side, not human or even the search dogs which the authorities had brought.
That revelation frightened the Little Slut, so she decided to return and bring help, but when she looked for the little gate, it was gone! She had not moved an inch, the marks in the soil from her crawling were there, but the gate she had come from was gone! It was as if it had never existed. She felt panic building, then regained her composure; she had her purpose -- a compulsion to find Alice.
'Well, I am left with only the path then, I suppose.' But, after all, she
was
of a practical sort and turned to follow the path walking down the gently descending slope.
"Alice!" She called out with every seventh step.
She held close to the remnants of her tattered clothing. Her torn dress was once a light linen frock, delicate and sweet, woven with flowers, fine green water lilies, and flag irises worked throughout the bodice. In truth, it was too young for her age; it made her look as if she were a child; Mistress had thought it naughty. Moreover, it did not feel all that comfortable as Mistress had insisted a strip of white woolen fabric be sewn inside the bodice, one that rode exactly where poor Little Sluts tender breasts. Breasts that were small nearly nonexistent true, but what her breasts lacked in size they more than made up for in sensitivity, and Mistress had chosen to place the fabric to remind her Little Slut of her place and who owned her. The thin linen fabric, and the delicate nature of the wool and its associated irritation, had a perverse impact on poor Little Sluts sensitive nipples. It had led to several embarrassing glares, an occasional pointed look, and at least one rather uncomfortably intense knowing stare from a man who appreciated what he thought was a very youthful girl.
In truth was poor Little Slut was in agony; her waist was circled by a tightly fitting silver decorated chastity belt secured by several small silver locks which held the belt in place. She could relieve herself, but that was all; the cage that covered her made access to her intimates impossible. The tortured kitty made itself known through copious amounts of drool, forcing Little Slut to renew her intimate wear several times and thus exhausting her supply. She would have stayed in her rooms until that supply was freshly laundered; however, she had a mission to perform and no time to waste, now she was forced to do without.
"Alice!" Little Slut's voice carried as far as the next tree before being swallowed up; it would mean punishment and torture if she failed. Mistress had threatened to sell her to some beastly man if she was unsuccessful; Little Slut did not doubt that Mistress could and would.
Little Slut shivered, recalled the last conversation she had witnessed regarding her mission; she was made to stand still naked save her belt and woolen band.
"Mistress, I am worried." Ilsa had begun, "Little Slut is not fully...." The sentence was not finished when the slap came.
"We have no other choice Ilsa, this little bitch is the best chance we have of retrieving Alice!" Mistress had been going through Little Slut's clothing, tossing things she did not like, setting those she did aside; none of it included Little Sluts favorite things. Then, handing the two dresses to Cunt, she whispered in the girl's ear, who blushed then curtsied and rushed out of the room, her breasts and bottom bouncing with each step.
"Well, you have two dresses. It will be enough if you are gone more than a day or two; it will not matter. Find Alice and bring her back, she must wed, or we are ruined. Is that clear, Little Slut?" Mistress asked; Little Slut nodded yes; she then was bundled off to the train station to make her way as quickly as possible to the country home where Alice had gone missing.
Poor Little Slut was making her way along the path she hoped would lead to her friend. She tried to focus on her search, but her nipples hurt. They rubbed on the scratchy strip of fabric; her poor areolas had been engorged for ages, nipples irritated beyond all tolerance, scratched to the point of being raw, yet she must endure.
Now she found herself walking down the ever-steepening path; she could hear a waterfall to her left; the forest seemed to become more foreboding and formidable with every step.
