The Most Dangerous Game Ch 03

Chapter 3 -- Only A Dumb Slut

The impact sends me sprawling to the ground, my mind reeling. For a moment I'm disoriented, my vision blurring at the edges. Pain lances through my shoulder, hot and sharp. What the fuck just happened?

I try to roll, to get my feet under me, but a boot slams into my ribs, driving the air from my lungs.

My hands scrabble at the dirt, trying to find purchase, to pull myself up and away from the next blow that I know is coming.

"Stay down, you fucking bitch!" a voice snarls above me. Female. Enraged.

Sophia.

Understanding hits me like a sledgehammer. The cunt got the drop on me. She must have circled back, maybe suspecting a trap. And I let my guard down, so focused on my own plans that I didn't even consider...

Stupid. Stupid!

I'm paying for that mistake now. Sophia is on me in an instant, and judging by the way it glints in the moonlight, the long thin thing she's wielding must be a crowbar, or something.

"Where is she?!" Sophia screams, lifting the crowbar in the air. "What did you do to her?!"

Even now, even with the upper hand, Sophia's first thought is for her friend. Her lover? How sickeningly sweet.

And how incredibly foolish.

Because in her rage, in her desperate worry for Ava, Sophia has made a fatal error. She's forgotten the first rule of combat - never let your emotions control you.

I am not so encumbered.

In the split second before the crowbar descends, I act. My hand shoots out and I grab her ankle. I yank, hard, throwing her off balance. Sophia yelps in surprise as her foot is pulled out from under her. She staggers, the crowbar slipping from her grasp as she windmills her arms, trying to stay upright.

It's all the opening I need.

I surge upwards, ignoring the throb in my shoulder, and tackle her around the waist. We go down in a tangle of limbs, grappling and rolling in the dirt. Sophia is taller than me, with a wiry strength, but that's just going to make it even more satisfying when I fucking break her.

We tumble across the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Her fingers claw at my face, going for my eyes, and I turn my head, feeling her nails rake across my cheek. I grab her wrist and wrench it away, but when we come to a stop, she's on top, straddling my hips.

"Fucking traitor!" she says, covering my face in spittle. "You let women down with every fucking breath you take! We could have used someone like you! Someone who understands how to survive!"

She pins my arms with her knees and balls one hand into a fist.

"Oh, I understand how to survive just fine," I say, grunting from the exertion. "That's why I'm on men's side and not yours."

Her fist descends, but I twist my body at the last second, causing her to punch the ground next to my head. The impact jolts through her hand and she winces, momentarily stunned. I buck my hips, throwing her off balance, and manage to free one of my arms. I grab her by the hair and yank her downwards, while simultaneously snapping my head forward.

God, I love the crunching sound her nose just made.

Sophia reels back with a cry, and I use her momentary distraction to heave her off me, sending her sprawling.

We both scramble to our feet, facing each other warily. Sophia's chest is heaving, her fists clenched at her sides. Blood drips down her chin from her broken nose. I'm not much better off, my shoulder throbbing and my face stinging from her scratches. But I'm grinning like a maniac.

Fuck, this is what it means to feel alive.

Sophia charges at me with a guttural yell, swinging a wild haymaker that I easily duck under. She's getting sloppy now, her anger making her reckless. I dance back, keeping my hands up, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

"Come on, blondie," I say. "That the best you got?"

She snarls and comes at me again, this time with a flurry of punches. I weave and dodge, letting her tire herself out. She's strong, I'll give her that, but she's no real fighter. Not like me.

I wait for my opening, and when it comes, I strike with no hesitation. A quick jab to her already broken nose, followed by a knee to the gut. Sophia doubles over, gasping for breath, and I grab her by the hair, wrenching her head back.

"Where's all that righteous fury now, hmm? Where's that feminist fire?"

She spits a glob of blood in my face. I flinch back instinctively, and she uses that split second to break free of my grip. She staggers back, one hand clutching her stomach, the other held out in front of her defensively.

"Fuck you," she says, wheezing. "You think this will last forever? The regime? The way things are now?"

I wipe the blood from my face with the back of my hand, my grin never wavering. "I think it will last long enough."

Her eyes narrow and she lunges at me again, but this time I'm ready. I sidestep her clumsy grab and bring my elbow down hard on the back of her neck. She stumbles and I follow up with a kick to the back of her knee. Her leg buckles and she goes down to her knees, crying out in pain.

I'm on her in an instant, grinding my knee into her spine, one hand fisting in her hair to wrench her head back while my other arm snakes around her throat.

Sophia gasps and chokes as I tighten my arm around her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her hands claw desperately at my arm, nails digging into my skin, but I don't relent. If anything, her struggling only makes me squeeze harder.

Slowly, almost gently, I lower us both to the ground, never loosening my chokehold. Sophia's back is pressed against my front as I lie down on my right side, my legs wrapping around her midsection like a python's coils.

I lean in close, my lips brushing against her ear. "You know, I've always admired constrictor snakes," I say conversationally, as if we're simply having a friendly chat. "The way they hunt. The way they kill. It's almost... sensual, don't you think? Choking is so intimate. Another being's life, in the palm of your hand. It's more intimate than sex itself. Maybe even more erotic..."

Sophia makes a garbled noise, halfway between a sob and a whimper.

"They don't crush their prey to death, did you know that?" I say, tightening my legs around her waist for emphasis. "No, they suffocate them. Each breath is a little more constricted as the grip keeps on tightening..."

I punctuate my words by constricting both arms around her throat, applying a steady, inexorable pressure. Sophia's body jerks and spasms in my grip, her heels drumming against the ground.

"Not that I'm going to do that to you. I totally could, obviously, but I won't. You're going to be delivered to a re-education center, safe and sound. You've got nothing to worry about!"

I loosen my grip just a little, allowing a trickle of air to reach her starving lungs. Sophia sucks in a ragged, desperate gasp, her body shuddering against mine. But before she can fully recover, I'm squeezing again, cutting off her air supply once more.

"Sometimes I think that's what men have done to us women," I say, casually. "Constricting us into submission, one restriction at a time, until there was nothing left to take away. And given how good it feels to do the same to you... I have to admit, I can't exactly blame them for enjoying it."

I establish a rhythm - constrict, release, constrict, release. Each cycle leaves her a little weaker, a little more disoriented. I can feel the fight draining out of her with each passing second. But she's a stubborn one, I'll give her that. Even as her struggles grow feebler, she's still resisting, still trying to buck me off.

It would almost be admirable if it weren't so pathetic.

"Ava..." Sophia whispers, which really is adorable. I nibble gently at her ear.

"She's okay," I say. "She's just waiting for us... you know, hanging around, wink wink..."

"You're... a monster..." Sophia manages to say between gasps.

"I am. That's your problem," I say. "This is a time of monsters. To win, you need to be monsters. You need to be worse than the men you're fighting against. And that's why you'll lose. Don't you think?"

The only response Sophia is capable of is a strangled gag.

"No? Pity. Just another thing we disagree on, I suppose."

It's a delicate balance, choking someone into passing out without causing any permanent damage. You have to constrict just the right amount, let them teeter on the edge of consciousness, feel their struggles grow weaker and weaker until finally...

There. Her body's going limp. Her eyelids flutter and I know she's on the very precipice of unconsciousness.

"Say goodnight, Sophia," I whisper in her ear. "I know you hate me, but you can trust me on this one promise. When you wake up, you're going to be right next to your lover..."

***

"Honey, I'm home!" I say cheerfully as I enter the shed, dumping Sophia's body on the ground with an unceremonious thud. "And look, I brought company!"

I kneel down beside Sophia and begin methodically binding her wrists and ankles with rope, making sure the knots are tight and secure. I'm not taking any chances this time.

Night is fully upon us now, so I'm working by the beam of my torchlight, which I'm sure makes me extra scary to Ava. Not gonna complain about that. The bitch is making muffled noises against the gag, her body twisting and swaying from the beam.

I finish tying off Sophia's bonds and stand, brushing the dirt from my knees. Sophia is still out cold, her head lolling to the side, a trickle of blood running from her broken nose.

I grab a bucket of water from the corner of the shed and unceremoniously dump it over her head. Sophia comes to with a gasp and a splutter, her eyes flying open, darting around in confusion and fear. When her gaze lands on Ava, hanging helplessly from the beam, a choked sob escapes her.

"Ava! Oh god, Ava, I'm so sorry..."

Ava can only make desperate, muffled noises in response, tears streaming down her face. The sight of their shared misery is absolutely delicious. Really, the ability to stay out of prison would be motivation enough, but what can I say? Some jobs are their own rewards, really.

I crouch down beside Sophia, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at me. "Isn't this cozy? Just the three of us girls, having a little chat."

Sophia tries to jerk her head away, and she's about to say something when I theatrically unsheath my knife. The metallic scrape cuts through the tension like a hot wire through butter. She goes silent at that, her eyes widening.

"I'm going to be candid with you. After all, no secrets at a girls' sleepover, yes? I've noticed a pattern that has me kinda worried."

I make sure to give Sophia one long, deliberate look at the knife, letting the moment stretch uncomfortably. The blade catches the torchlight. So very pretty.

"I have a fairly high opinion of myself. I'm starting to wonder if there's some overconfidence holding me back, though."

I wave the knife in the air for every point I mention, as if I'm using it to keep count.

"First, I thought I'd successfully fooled Mireia. Oh, yes, it was me who captured her, by the way. But the bitch somehow saw through my act and nearly caved my head in with a rock."

I stand up, pacing the small confines of the shed, with the floorboards creaking beneath my boots.

"Second..." I stop in my tracks. The warden.

He made me suck his cock. He slapped me. He threatened me with mind destruction and brainwashing. Worst of all, he made me look like a fucking idiot.

"... you don't need to know about the second instance, just take my word for it," I say, shaking my head and pointing the tip of my knife towards Sophia. "And now, you... you got the drop of me."

I look away from my captives, contemplating the blade as I spin my knife deftly between my fingers. "There are few things in this world I hate more than feeling outsmarted."

With one swift motion, I crouch and plant my knife in a gap between two floorboards. The swiftness of the movement, and the sudden sound, startle Ava and Sophia, which was the point of the exercise. It's important to set the mood, after all.

"I don't intend to be outsmarted again."

I fix my gaze on Sophia, my eyes boring into hers with an intensity that could melt steel. "So here's what's going to happen, blondie. You're going to tell me everything you know about your little rebel cell. Every hideout, every plan, every name. And you're going to do it now."

Sophia meets my stare defiantly, her jaw set in stubborn resolve. Even bound and bloodied, there's a fire in her eyes that refuses to be extinguished. It's almost admirable. Almost.

"Go fuck yourself," she spits.

I sigh theatrically, shaking my head as if dealing with a particularly petulant child. "Wrong answer."

In one fluid motion, I'm on her, straddling her prone form. My knife is in my hand again, the tip pressing against the soft skin under her chin. Sophia goes still beneath me, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Let me put this in terms you'll understand," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "You have two options here. Option one: you talk, and maybe, just maybe, I'll go easy on you when I'm done: I'll deliver you to the re-education center with no further abuse to your person. Sure, you'll be a virtually lobotomized hypnoslut by the time they're done with you, but I won't lift another finger on you. Just in case you're feeling slow on the uptake... that's the nice option."

I press the edge of the knife closer against her skin. "Option two: you keep up this brave rebel act, and I'll fuck you, right here, right in front of your girlfriend. I'll make her watch as I break you, piece by piece, until there's nothing left but a sobbing, shattered husk."

Sophia shudders beneath me, a choked whimper escaping her throat. But still, she remains silent.

I sit back, studying her face. There's fear in her eyes now, but also a grim determination. She's not going to break easily.

Eh, it's fine by me. It's not like I object to having to rape her. Best way to mindbreak a girl, truly... the regime can keep their drugs and the hypnosis and the mind control. I like to wrangle women the way nature intended.

I gently pull the hem of her shirt higher, exposing a tantalizing strip of pale skin above the waistband of her pants. I trail the tip of my knife along her stomach, relishing the way her muscles jump and twitch under my touch.

"Last chance, blondie," I say. "Talk, or I start cutting away these pesky clothes..."

Sophia sets her jaw stubbornly, glaring up at me with pure hatred. "Do your worst, you traitorous bitch," she snarls.

I grin wickedly. "Oh, I always do. It's why I'm the best at this job."

I slip my knife under the hem of her shirt and slice upwards in one swift motion. The fabric parts with a ripping sound, revealing her tits. Sophia tries to wriggle away from me, but in her bound state, it only highlights the fact that she can't get away.

I lean down, my lips brushing her ear. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you. By the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to stop. Begging me to just send you to the re-education center already..."

Sophia shudders beneath me. I sit back, savoring her emotions. What does she feel more intensely, I wonder? Disgust? Anguish? Fear? I'll have to remember to ask her that, once I make her wet. I pinch her left nipple between thumb and index finger, giving it a playful tug. She flinches at my touch, turning her head away in disgust.

Just as I'm about to really get started, a new sound reaches my ears - muffled, desperate sobbing. I glance over at Ava, still hanging from the beam. She's shaking her head frantically, whining into the gag like a scared puppy dog.

Interesting. I knew getting these two together might yield results. No matter how motivated, everyone has a point of failure...

I climb off Sophia and saunter over to Ava. I reach up and roughly yank the gag from her mouth. Ava gasps, sucking in air, before dissolving into wrenching sobs.

"Please," she chokes out between heaving breaths. "Please don't hurt her. I'll do anything. I'll tell you everything, just please..."

I arch an eyebrow. "Everything, you say?"

Ava nods frantically, tears running down her face. God, she looks pathetic. What a dumb, blubbering cow. I almost feel embarrassed for her.

But I keep those thoughts to myself. I'm a professional, after all.

"N-no, Ava, don't...!" Sophia says from the floor, her voice strained with desperation. "Don't tell her any-"

I roll my eyes, walking back to her with a sigh. I cut off her pathetic plea by pressing the sole of my boot down hard against her throat, right at the hollow. She gags and chokes, her bound hands coming up to claw uselessly at my leg as I bear down with my weight.

"Shut it, blondie. The adults are talking."

Under my boot, Sophia writhes and sputters. Her fingernails scrape against the leather of my boot, but I barely feel it. I keep the pressure steady, not enough to crush her windpipe, but enough to make breathing an agonizing chore.

I turn my attention back to Ava, theatrically gesturing for her to keep talking.

"By all means, puppy girl. Please continue. You'll tell me everything, you said?"

Ava nods frantically, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "Yes, yes, I swear! Just please, don't hurt Sophia anymore. Don't... rape her. I'll tell you whatever you want to know!"

I contemplate Sophia, a harmless worm pinned under my boot. She looks so good down there. "Interesting choice. The girlfriend, over the cause."

Under my sole, Sophia makes a strangled noise that might be a protest, but it's hard to tell. Her struggles are getting weaker as she understands the futility of her situation, her clawing hands falling limply to her sides.

I turn back to Ava, cocking my head expectantly. "Well? I'm waiting. Start talking."

And talk she does. It's like a dam has burst, the words pouring out of her in a jumbled, frantic stream. She tells me everything - the location of their main hideout, the names of their leaders, their plans for future strikes against the regime. She even gives up the secret codes they use to communicate, the dead drop locations where they leave messages for each other.

It's a veritable gold mine of information, and I drink it all in greedily, committing every detail to memory. With this knowledge, I could single-handedly bring down their entire operation. The warden will be thrilled. Hell, I might even get a promotion out of this.

As Ava talks, her voice grows hoarser, her sobs more wrenching. It's clear that each word is tearing her apart inside, that she's betraying everything she believes in.

There's some beauty in the notion that the last, genuine emotion she feels before she's mind-controlled into simpering female domesticity is the annihilation of utter self-betrayal.

I'm an artist, truly.

When she finally falls silent, her head hanging in utter defeat, I lift my boot from Sophia's throat. Sophia gasps and coughs, curling onto her side as she sucks in ragged breaths.

I walk over to Ava,who dangles limply from the beam, her body spent from the emotional toll of her confession. I trail a finger along her cheek. "Thank you, puppy girl. You've been very, very helpful."

Ava flinches from my touch, squeezing her eyes shut as fresh tears leak out. "I did what you asked. Now please, just leave Sophia alone."

I tilt my head to the side, pretending to consider her plea with the seriousness it clearly doesn't deserve. "Hmm... you're right. I did say I wouldn't rape Sophia if you talked."

Relief flashes across Ava's face. But it's short-lived as I lean in close, my breath hot against her ear.

"But sweetie... I never said anything about not raping you."

Ava's eyes fly open, wide with horror. "No, wait! That's not-"

I silence her with a harsh slap across the face. Her head snaps to the side, a pained yelp escaping her lips.