Taken By The Viking Ch 06

When Trish woke up, she was alone. Thankfully.

A few more tears fell and then she saw the glass sitting at the bedside table, full of water, and reached out to grab it. Her throat was so dry, it felt like the great African desert. She drained the glass and then looked around the room.

There was nothing for her to do. She fell back, laying there and staring up at the ceiling. She didn't know how long she lay there before the door opened, but when it did, she jumped so high it felt like she was levitating for a moment. Jordan came in and stopped as the door slid shut behind him, staring at her.

Trish curled up into a ball, tucking her legs under the skirt of her dress.

"Good, you're awake," he said, studying her. She stared back at him, unsure of whether or not he required an answer. "We're going to go back to the Wolf's room."

Horror, humiliation, shame, fear... all of it slid through her in under a second. "Are... am I... is it going to be like that again?"

"No. Not for you," he said, his voice matter-of-fact and conversational. Trish blinked.

"Not for me?" She wasn't sure she understood."

"Not for you," he said firmly. "You're mine. Pet and Toy are his."

From this astounding statement, Trish gleaned several pieces of knowledge - Jordan definitely didn't personally care about Alex or Bella. He definitely did care about her in a way that he didn't care about them. And, for some reason, he'd decided to put an end to the public displays involving her.

The sudden urge to jump up and throw her arms around his neck in gratitude was somewhat understandable, but still horrifying. After all, he'd been the reason she'd been put in that position in the first place

On the other hand...

Trish remembered what he'd said when he realized he'd taken her virginity. He'd indicated he wouldn't have done that in public. Leaving open quite a few other things. Today, he'd been aroused by being part of the audience, and then by having an audience. He was both a voyeur and an exhibitionist. One whom had decided to forgo the latter, because it upset her.

Unless he was going to indulge in exhibitionism with someone else? Bella maybe?

Her reaction to that was even more upsetting because, instead of feeling pure relief, she actually felt a little disgruntled. Almost... jealous. Which she immediately wanted to deny, but she couldn't completely deny the fact that her feelings about that idea weren't 100% positive. And that was horrifying in and of itself.

Maybe she was just becoming numb to horrifying things. It felt like every other thing that happened to her seemed or felt horrifying, maybe it was just becoming standard and therefore less remarkable. Another horrifying thought. Ugh. She needed another word to describe things, but she couldn't think of anything that so well encompassed what she was feeling.

She looked up at Jordan, her lips pursed. He'd been standing there, waiting for her to work through her thoughts, a blank expression on his face. Seeing her focus on him, he held out his hand.

"Come on, baby girl."

Baby girl. Such a different name from Pet or Toy.

Knowing she didn't have a choice, Trish got up and took his hand. Tried not to feel comfort from the warm, strong grip and the knowledge that he'd decided to protect her from the worst of the Wolf's depredations. Looking her over, Jordan frowned.

"Let's change your clothes."

When she looked down, she only partially understood. Her dress was wrinkled from being slept in and there were a few, small, dry stains from his cum leaking out of her and onto the skirt. What she didn't really understand was why he cared.

But he did. Within minutes, he had redressed her in a dove grey dress, very loose on top and with a flowy skirt. Trish longed for pants.

"Why are there no pants in the wardrobe?" she asked. She didn't know why but she felt more comfortable asking him questions now. Maybe because he'd already answered a much more important one, and in her favor.

He didn't seem bothered by this question either. "Soldiers wear pants, even off duty. Civilian women wear skirts. It's the easiest way to identify them."

She bit her lip as he took her hand again, leading her towards the door.

"Why do civilian women need to be identified?"

"So we know they're not soldiers." His tone was blase, uncaring. He truly didn't seem to mind her asking questions, even if his answers were very short. And completely uninformative, in this case. Trish was getting the idea Jordan didn't do much talking unless someone was asking him questions. Even his small talk at the meals had mostly consisted of listening to others.

As they walked down the hall, she mulled his answer over in his mind. The skirt wasn't just a way of identifying a civilian woman, she had a feeling, it was a way of claiming them. Still, it might also serve several purposes. If the compound was attacked, the civilians would be immediately identifiable. Easily protected. She also supposed this was why no one had molested her, the way she'd seen Alex and Bella being casually groped by the soldiers. Her skirt was protection.

"Are there any male civilians here?"

"A few."

"How are they identified?"

"They wear skirts." He looked at her blankly, as if such an answer would be obvious. She supposed it was. While the Moon tended towards fashions that separated the gender, she had noticed that on Earth there seemed to be a lot of overlap. No one seemed particularly stressed over masculine or feminine, there were just fashions for people. Then again, from what she'd seen of Earth, people also tended to be more focused on aspects of survival than on

Startled, she realized that made her a part of a group in the compound, even if she hadn't met any of them yet. Would she feel more like she belonged with the other civilian men and women than she did with Alex and Bella? Or would she be caught somewhere between civilian and prisoner?

******

The courtyard Jordan took her to was filled with soldiers.

And two civilians.

Trish saw them immediately.

Skirts really did make them easy to identify.

One of them was the redhaired woman who had been standing outside the showers with food; she was sitting next to a stocky, bald man with a big smile and his arm around her. Across from them was a petite woman, about the same size as Trish, with a short pixie cut of dark blonde hair. She was wearing pants. The large man sitting next to her, with rumpled light brown hair, was wearing a skirt.

She gaped.

Not that she thought a woman couldn't be a soldier, obviously she didn't think that (and if she had, an hour in the Wolf's compound would have taught her otherwise), but the strangeness of the large man next to the much smaller woman, while he wore the skirt of a civilian and she was obviously a soldier... well, being from the Moon it was a bit of a shock. On the moon, judgments would have been unkind. Everyone might be having sex with everyone, unlike in Earth's past when same-sex relationships were considered deviant, but there were still much stronger gender roles on the Moon than there were on Earth. Intellectually she knew that, seeing it was still...

The skirt the other two were wearing were nothing like hers. The woman's was of a much sturdier fabric and seemed to have wide, several inch thick pleats, as well as pockets and all sorts of strange hoops, from which it looked something might hang. The hem came to about her knees. The man's skirt was longer, going to mid-calf, and looked like it was made of some kind of soft, light material that stretched. Looking down at her own flowy, short skirt, Trish couldn't help but sigh.

Clothing on Earth was done in general sizes, rather than tailored as it was on the Moon, but she'd still noticed that all of the skirts in her wardrobe her on the short side.

As she watched, the civilian man and soldier woman got up, saying goodbyes to the two who were still sitting. Jordan finished his conversation with the soldier who'd stopped him, and then Trish found herself being propelled towards the couple who was still seated.

"Hello again!" The redhead said brightly, a wide smile spreading on her face as Jordan led Trish to sit down where the previous couple had vacated their spots.

"Hi," Trish said softly, her curiosity overcoming any hesitancy she might have felt.

"This is Chevie and Trix," Jordan said waving his hand. Trish supposed that was his idea of introductions.

Trix giggled. "And you're Trish! Trish and Trix, that shouldn't get confusing at all." She winked as Trish smiled a bit weakly, and her man - Chevie, looked down at her with a fond expression on his face.

"Don't mind Trix," he said genially, turning a smile to Trish. "She likes bad jokes."

Although Trish wanted to talk, to ask questions, to get to know Trix - she couldn't help but wonder if Trix had started out as a captive too - she found herself tongue-tied. After all, Jordan was still sitting beside her, his arm wrapped possessively around her, firm fingers resting against her thigh. Cupping her thigh, really, as if holding her in place against him.

It didn't seem as if Trix needed much encouragement though. She started talking to both Trish and Jordan, acting as if they were already old friends. Or maybe that was just how she was. From listening, Trish learned that the man and woman who just left were named Bryant and Lenore, and that Lenore was a sniper about to go out on assignment. Exactly what the assignment consisted of was left rather vague, and Trish got the idea that Trix didn't know. Apparently Bryant worked on the compound, making weapons rather than using them, but was considered a civilian because he wasn't trained. Before they'd left, they'd been discussing the merits of him training with Chevie and Trix.

Trish also learned that Chevie was trained, but was in charge of the compound's kitchen, and Trix was not trained, and helped Chevie in the kitchen.

"Have you seen the news vids today?" Trix asked.

Jordan's arm tightened around Trish, and she looked at him curiously. Mostly she avoided looking at him, but she didn't understand his response so she looked.

"Trish doesn't have access," he said. The lack of inflection in his voice made it sound like a warning, which made Trish wonder why she didn't have access and why he wouldn't want Trix to talk to her about it. Obviously there was something she was missing, but what? It couldn't have been of too much import, because Trix's expression didn't even flicker, she just shrugged and immediately moved on to a new subject. Maybe Trish could gather up the courage to question Jordan about it later.

Just from sitting with them, letting Trix control the conversation, with occasional comments from Chevie (and even fewer occasional comments from Jordan), Trish learned a lot about the compound itself. Like it had its own gardens, was self-sustaining, the Wolf was one of the best leaders in the area, paid well, provided jobs for the community, and would even take in the many homeless in the area when severe weather conditions made the outside unlivable. Hearing Trix's heavy praise of the Wolf was jarring, to say the least.

Fortunately she did't have to listen for too long before Jordan was getting up, saying they needed to get inside for dinner and the floor show. Trix just laughed, a slightly mean edge to her laugh, while Chevie smiled.

"Well no one wants to miss that," Trix said, a bit of a gleam in her eyes. "I always love watching those Moon assholes get theirs." She glanced at Trish. "Not you, I mean. You're different, obviously."

Why? And why obviously? But Trish had to bite her tongue as Jordan led her away. Although she wasn't sure she'd have the guts to ask anyway. What if she didn't like the answer?

She didn't feel like she fit in any more with Trix than she did with Alex and Bella... Trix was obviously happy to be here, loved the Wolf, and hated the Moon and anyone from it. Even if she had been nice to Trish. Still, it had been kind of nice to be able to hear about the compound, from someone a bit more effusive than Jordan.

Maybe she should cultivate Trix... she seemed to know everything. Maybe she would know something that would help Trish and the others escape. Not that she thought Trix would willingly tell her, but she might let something drop...

It was a thought anyway.

******

The floor show consisted of Bella being molested by another woman as she received a plug in her bottom. Trish shifted on Jordan's lap, her own plug shifting with her. She barely noticed it anymore, except when he was taking it out or putting it back in. Trish couldn't help but feel that the exhibitionism of Bella with another woman being forced on her was almost karma for earlier... even though she knew that hadn't really been Bella's fault. Bella had been forced to it as well.

Ugh.

Trish turned her head, tucking it under Jordan's chin, to observe the Wolf. He was watching the "floor show" with dark, hungry eyes, completely focused on what was happening to Bella. Trying to remove herself from the situation, Trish pushed aside her own personal feelings to make some observations.

The Wolf enjoyed what he was doing to Bella and Alex.

The Wolf also treated his own people well. He didn't consider Bella or Alex his 'people' even though he considered them 'his.'

The Wolf could probably give a psychologist a lifetime of work, figuring out his motivations and documenting his actions and theorizing about him. The compound could certainly give a sociologist the same thing.

The residents were just as interested in the floor show as the Wolf. They were distracted by it, enjoying it... it was as if they didn't see Alex and Bella as real people. The thought made Trish's mouth twist, because she was all too aware how often the residents of the Moon didn't see people who were below their own financial and social strata as people either. In some ways, there was a kind of equality about it.

Trish wondered if that's why the Wolf did it. Old Roman Emperors had distracted the impoverished masses with gladiator shows. Was the Wolf deliberately doing something similar here? Only with the added benefit that his people could become hands on as well, doling out punishment to real, living representations of the Moon and its ill treatment of Earth's population? A way of debasing the people of the Moon, getting revenge on them? It might only be one or two people at a time, but...

That savagery, that pulsing desire that filled the room, it was more than just sexual. Trish found herself snuggling more firmly into Jordan's arms, well aware that - as a former resident of the Moon - she was just as vulnerable to that bias. Or, at least, she would be if it weren't for him. She couldn't protect herself from him, but he had apparently set himself up as her protector from everything else.

Cold comfort when she wondered how long it would last, but at least, for now, she was safe. It was no wonder her instinct was to burrow into him.

Deliberately, she got control over herself and pulled away. He kept his arms tight around her, but she was no longer clinging to him. Have some self respect, she told herself.

While she'd been ruminating, the floor show had turned into Bella being raped on each end by two men. Closing, she listened to Bella's inexplicable orgasm, followed by the Wolf's question to Alex... and Alex's utter rejection of sucking the Wolf's cock in exchange for a meal. At some point, Alex was going to have to cave, wasn't he? If they were ever going to escape, Trish didn't fool herself... neither she nor Bella were fighters, nor did either of them possess much brute strength. They both conformed to the Moon's definition of feminine, which meant they were physically weaker than probably every single person at the Compound.

******

"Hands above your head, baby-girl," Jordan ordered, moving her arms up like she was a doll. Trish obeyed anyway, not fighting him as he put her in the position that he wanted, flat on her back on his bed.

Well-fed, but feeling strangely defeated and alone, it was just easier to obey for right now. At least she wasn't bursting into tears constantly anymore, she told herself. She supposed the shock and disbelief must have finally worn off and now she'd moved on to acceptance. Or, at least, resignation. Only until she could find an ally or something to help her escape, she told herself... but until then, she'd rather not be crying constantly anyway. Especially because Jordan had been forcing fluid down her throat all day - not with his cock, but constantly making her drink from a glasses of water that he kept procuring. When she'd finally protested during her third glass at dinner, he'd firmly told her that he wasn't going to risk her dehydrating.

He wrapped soft cuffs around her wrists and Trish felt herself quake a little in fear. Being tied up like this meant there really wasn't anything she could... not that she could do much anyway.

Taking each of her ankles in turn, he spread her legs far apart, wrapping a soft cuff around each ankle and securing them to the foot of the bed, leaving her completely vulnerable and helpless. The look on his face as he stared down at her open pussy made her shudder. Not with fear, because she already knew what was coming - dread, perhaps?

Yet, when he rubbed his hands up her thighs, his fingers sliding to her pussy and coaxing more wetness from her sensitive hole, Trish found she could just let go of herself. She didn't have to fight against her desire to flee or fight - because she couldn't. There was no way she could run, no way she could even attempt to fight, with her arms and legs bound the way she was. And there was a curious freedom in that. The feeling of guilt for not doing more, for not being stronger, was completely absent... because there really was nothing she could do. Knowing that, both intellectually and emotionally, took away all her responsibility for what was happening to her.

Of course, she could still feel some guilt, some humiliation, for becoming aroused. But she also was coming to accept that Jordan knew a woman's body and responses better than she knew how to control her own body and responses. He had more experience.

Two fingers slid inside of her and she shivered, moaning slightly as he probed, looking for and finding her g-spot. Gently he rubbed against it, with only enough pressure to tease, not to truly stimulate. Trish's hips lifted slightly, her thighs quivering as her legs jerked in response to the teasing, her body automatically seeking more.

"That's it, Trish," he crooned, his voice deep and raspy. "I'm going to make you feel so good, baby girl..."

Bending over her, his mouth went straight for her nipple as his fingers continued to probe and tease, his free hand coming up to join his mouth and squeezing her small breast as he suckled at the nipple. Pleasure surged through her, a direct line from her nipple to her pussy, and softer pleasure in between as his fingers kneaded her breast flesh. His touch was gentle, arousing, until he bit down on her nipple, but that was when she reacted the most - her pussy spasmed and she gasped as her body arched. The tiny bite of pain was like a catalyst for her pleasure, sending it surging higher than his mere touch had been.

Then he switched nipples with his mouth, leaving behind his hand to pinch and pull at the nipple he'd just bitten. His mouth was gentle, suckling on her other nipple, but she tensed, waiting for the bite she knew would come eventually. Even that anticipation heightened her pleasure, her muscles coiling, adding to the tension swirling in her core. When he finally bit down, electricity surged through her, leaving her shuddering as her nipples throbbed. As his fingers played with the first nipple he'd bitten, he continued to suck and nip at her other, making her squirm beneath him as his fingers began to move in and out of her pussy, her growing wetness easing his movements.