SYLVIA AND HER MASTER
070622.6d1
Apocalypse, not too distant future, broken society, slaves & master
Author's note
This is an original work of fiction. All characters are 18 or older. This is dark erotic, non-consensual fiction. The story is dark. A Stroker Ace production.
Characters
Introducing Sylvia Trent, also known as Honey. And her co-stars Commander Hugo Klebb & T-bone
Supporting characters in order of appearance are, Jim Ellis, Butch, Jane, beautiful Peggy, Lilly, Ruby, Fanny & Katya
Plus many extras
Sylvia and her Master
In the not too distant future.
The school yard is covered in rubbish. It has been a long time since children attended this school. In the darkness of night a cat prowls around a dumpster looking for food. It freezes, sensing something beyond the fence. Then the sound of trucks approaching and the cat dashes for cover.
After the border wars, the plague hit. The economy was already weakened and the mass deaths caused the collapse. The survivors split; everyone trying to protect what they had. The wealthy erected armed compounds where they lived in relative safety. Others banded together, in some places whole towns stayed together. More common were neighborhood bands of like-minded families banding together for mutual protection and assisting others from marauders.
In the graffiti covered one story school building Jim Ellis sits on a classroom desk that has been pulled under a window. Jim is thirty three, handsome; he looks and acts very smooth. He looks out into the darkness and seeing nothing, turns to Sylvia.
"I know the world has gone to shit. But it's not only hoarding bottle caps and cigarettes; people are still getting married..."
"Hush, Jim. I shall never marry you." In a lower voice she adds, "Or anyone else. It's not about you. You know how this crazy world frightens me. I live in fear of being taken and what they would do. I am afraid of pain; desperately afraid. I don't want to cause anyone pain."
Sylvia Trent with short blonde hair and a voluptuous figure had just turned thirty. She laid her hands on Jim's shoulders and looking him squarely in the face and said in a slow and solemn voice, "If they find us here, I pray they won't take me alive, Jim."
He replied quickly in a firm voice, "I will never let anyone take you, Sylvia." Then added, "You are safe here, we are all safe. This school is buttoned down tight. Guards like us are on all sides while the rest of the group sleeps. "
Later that night, the cat heard the trucks approach but not the sleeping guards in the north side of the building. The guards were shot in their sleep which alerted the building and the whole town. But it was too late, the school had been breached.
Jim heard the shots. He grabbed his rifle off the desk and moved quickly to the doorway. Looking down the hall he saw three men armed with assault rifles come around the corner. They were four classrooms away and moving fast. He had a rifle and Sylvia a 9mm pistol; they were totally outgunned. While the three men were clearing classrooms, Jim and Sylvia darted down the hall and around a corner. They gathered together with other members of their group in what was once a cafeteria.
The noise of their assailants grew as they got closer. Suddenly there was a crash as the cafeteria doors were rammed. A man appeared in the splintered doorway. He died in a hail of gunfire. There was a long pause as the body was dragged away. Then a voice boomed out, "Put your weapons down or we will burn you out!"
There was indecision; some wanted to shoot it out. But in the end, a fire started in the doorway; the smoke blowing into the cafeteria was the deciding factor. Jim, Sylvia and the others had been herded into the center where the tables had been pulled back. Women were whimpering as the raiders searched everyone for weapons.
Sylvia's blonde hair caught the eye of a raider and he pulled her from the bunched up group. He proceeded to 'frisk' her in the most offensive way. He stood her with arms out straight and with his hands between her thighs, opened her legs as she glared at him. Jim rushed forward intent on pushing the man away. Immediately another man approached Jim, he pulled out a pistol with a silencer, aimed it at Jim's head and before anyone could react he pulled the trigger. Blood and brains splattered all over Sylvia.
"Boom... two points," the man said. "You can call me Butch."
As he spoke he unscrewed the silencer. He was big and flabby with long oily hair as if he was in a rock band.
"You may have heard of us, we are the Ratlers," Butch continued. "And I am going to keep the Ratlers alive and strong. You all work for us now. Fight back and the harder it will be. You try to stop us and we will come down on you. Hard. Understand?"
His band of men laughed a harsh laugh of triumph as they resumed frisking for weapons. Six foot tall Butch, well over 200 pounds threw his arm around Sylvia. Shocked from the shooting, and splattered in Jim's brain matter she drew back in horror. Slowly and gradually, Butch with his strong hand on her neck forced her head toward his own. Unable to resist she let out an anguished cry. He stifled it with his kiss. Not just a kiss, but a deep open mouth tongue fucking that he drew out because he could.
She let out another cry of distress and Butch slapped her hard across her face. She was shoved back with the bunched up women. The seven women in the group had been huddled in the middle as the remaining men were herded at gun point from the room. Still shaken and covered in blood she found herself pushed and shoved along with the other women out the door into the streets. It was first light of morning; there was the occasional burst of gunfire, laughter from the Ratlers and whimpers from the women as they were hurried along. Two men that Sylvia knew were being led away in another direction. Any delay and that woman got a sharp blow with a rifle.
Presently they reached the big parking lot that was the staging area for the attack. Several big pickup trucks were scattered across the lot. The trucks were raised with oversize tires. Sylvia's group was herded together with another smaller group of women. The women all knew each other, but there was nothing to say. They knew their fate, they were captives. Each face was pale in grief and fear. Mothers held their young girls' close and older women tried to console the younger. Amidst the sporadic gunfire and isolated explosions a couple more neighborhood women were brought in.
There was a loud clamor and shouting. Flames rose in the morning light, the school was burning. The Ratlers started to return, some driving stolen vehicles, all with stolen loot. By their laughter it was clear that the raid was a success. They had gotten what they wanted, loot and women. Now they had to get out before neighboring settlements could unite and counter attack.