The Slave of Dystonia

Hello Readers!

I just want to say that I am happy to have you reading The Slave of Dystonia! This chapter doesn't have anything erotic in it, and may start kind of slow, but I promise you it is worth the wait! Hope you enjoy, and feel free to comment! I am new to writing erotic fiction, and I'd love to hear your opinions. Enjoy!

AlmostRhia

*****

The story begins with two countries battling. As always, there is a winner and a loser.

Here's the shocker; I'm on the winning side.

I live in the powerful country of Dystonia. Ruled by a vicious committee of lords, 12 to be exact, we are a country that takes what it wants. And doesn't give back. Our newest victim is the country of Lystina, a peaceful country where time is spent more on the basics of life, and less on a strong military program. They don't even have electricity. Don't ask me why Dystonia has decided to take over this country. I wouldn't know.

I don't necessarily agree with my countries' ideas, most importantly that of slavery. After the war with Nakii, which was the worst in the sense that we almost didn't win, one of the 12 lords brought up the idea of slavery, as a way to display that Dystonia was not a country to be trifled with. I guess it stuck.

I was 5 at that time. The only thing I remember was my parents' disgust with what our country was becoming. I still remember the conversation today...

"And this is what Dystonia has become, has it? A filthy, worthless country whose goal is to make others suffer. Makes me sick," said my father, pacing around the living room, the TV still blaring the recent news about slavery.

"Byron, stop it. We both knew this moment was coming. Why act so surprised?" said my mother, moving off the couch to comfort him. As she went to touch him, he spun on his heals, eyes filled with rage.

"I just didn't expect it to happen so soon!" He sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair, grey speckling his temples. "I'm sorry, Arilyn, I..." he paused, looking over to my sitting form on the couch. "I just want a good life for her," he continued in a quiet voice.

"And she'll have one. We will make sure of that. She will realize the fault in Dystonia, and like us, will fight for what's right."

My parents did fight for what's right. They fought until their untimely death when I was 18. And after their death, they left me to fight the same fight. So here I am, continuing the tradition. Freeing the slaves of Dystonia.

*****

The trapdoor burst open, opening up to a large dark bedroom. My bedroom. I crawled out of the door, and turned back around the help the girl behind me get out of the hole in the floor as she sobbed uncontrollably. We had finally reached my house, which happened to be one of the many safe havens for runaway slaves. I grabbed her hand, and used all of my strength to pull her into my bedroom. She desperately needed sleep. And a bath. Even still, it was hard to hide my horror at the way she had been treated. There were deep scars around her wrist and neck, a display of servitude. I'm sure there were other scars as well, hidden by darkness.

"Oh my god, I just c-c-c-can't believe I'm out of that hellhole," she cried behind me. She was a tiny girl, about 5 feet and very skinny, with long black hair matching her dark eyes which were filled with tears. I helped her to her feet, only to have her stumble and almost fall to the ground. Luckily, I caught her before she fell. Despite her frail figure, I was not very strong and nearly fell myself.

"Jesus, be careful!" I exclaimed, helping her back up before massaging my now sore shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, I just... you have no idea how horrible, I mean... it was crazy! He was crazy... I'll never forget how he... You have to run! You have to-"

"Shhh," I whispered, and put a finger to her lips to silence her. She then broke into sobs again, throwing herself into my arms. I embraced her welcomingly, trying to make her feel better. She was right. I never had been through what she'd been through. And I never would be. While it was a horrible thought, I was comforted by that fact. I would never be a slave.

I looked around the dark room, and then to my bedside clock, which read 3:15 a.m. Had we really taken that long? I went down to the tunnels to get her at around 12, but I suppose because of her weak condition that it made sense. It had taken me twice as long to get her back to the house because she kept falling and crying. I continued to glance around, worried of being seen. Although the windows were dark, I had a horrible feeling I was being watched. I pulled her away from me to look into her eyes. "Listen. I know that it has been rough for you, but we need to get you to the next safe house and out of Dystonia as soon as possible, understand? You leave here tomorrow morning, and you need to be refreshed before you leave. I'll show you to your room, that way you can take a bath and get some good sleep, alright?"

She nodded obediently, and I led her through the house and into a small room with a bathroom inside of it. She thanked me, and closed the door quietly, tears still in her eyes. I sighed, and turned back towards my bedroom, preparing to go back into the tunnels. I hated it down there. Made only of dirt, the tunnels were crawling with bugs and roots, and the dark dankness of it all made it worse. Preparing myself for the trip, I opened the trap door, and slunk back into the corridor. Grabbing the flashlight stowed away in my belt, I turned the switch on and began the walk again. It was a lonely horrific walk, as usual, but I continued on, remembering my purpose. It took about thirty minutes to reach the main corridor, where the tunnel split, leading to more safe houses, and also back to the slave owners' own houses. Once there, I shined my light around the large cavern.

"Garrett?" I whispered harshly, shining my light down various tunnels to try and spot him. "Garrett, it's me." Suddenly, a figure emerged from one of the tunnels; I let out a short scream before my attacker put his hand over my mouth, twisted me around, and held me tight against his muscled chest, his free hand coiling over the front of my hips.

"Hey baby," he cooed into my ear, and at the sound I relaxed and rolled my eyes before licking the hand covering my mouth. At the action he laughed and released me, wiping his wet hand on his jeans. "Jumpy today, aren't we?"

"Fuck you, Garrett," I replied, keeping my body turned so he wouldn't spot my wide grin. "You scared the shit outta me. You know better than that," I turned back to him, attempting to look as irritated as possible. He only laughed at my expression, and led me over to a section of dirt, which, somehow, looked nicer than the rest of the place, and we sat.

"How was it tonight?" he asked seriously, all amusement gone from his face.

I sighed, putting my head in my hands. "Another one of Lord Harper's." Garrett nodded knowingly, looking sadly at me. Tears threatened to slide down my cheeks, but I sniffled harshly to avoid it. How pathetic would it be for me to cry? I wasn't even a victim. Garrett put his arm around me, urging me to continue. "Garrett, I just don't understand. How can he do this to people? How can our country do this to people? It's wrong, to make these innocent bystanders of war become slaves to heartless barbarians like Harper." I paused, thinking of what to say next. "I want to do what's best. I want to help these poor people, like my parents did. But any more of this, and I'll be needing just as much psychiatric help as Harper's slaves."

He looked at me knowingly. "Emi, you don't have to do this anymore. You know that." I looked back up at him, irritation spreading through me.

"But I do have to do this, Garrett. I want to do this. I need to make things right."

"But you don't have to! You have no obligation."

I glared at him darkly. Wasn't it everybody's obligation to help? Wasn't that what being a country was about? Standing up for what's right? Well, maybe not my country's idea of what is right, but the general moral idea. But not everybody was as willing. Even still, people were too scared to act out against slavery. Or maybe, a small voice said inside my head, regular people, just like you, agreed with it. What a sick thought.

"I better get back to the girl, she will freak out if she wakes up alone." I stood up, brushing the dirt off my clothing in an attempt to hide my discomfort. Garrett looked up at me with a sad expression, but before I could let it effect me too deeply, I turned around and headed back to the house.

********

5 am came quickly, but I didn't sleep a wink. I was too jittery on moving the girl out of my house and into the next one. It was a very delicate process, one that had been created long ago when slavery first started in Dystonia. Named the Nakii Safeway (because slavery had been introduced after the Nakii War), the idea was to have underground paths that lead from various slave owners or auction outlets to safe houses. Each safe house owner, called an Escort, was given times and dates for when to pick up slaves through the underground paths. Small pieces of parchment would be nailed to the trap door from the leaders of the system, and the Escort had to move slaves from place to place according to the times on the paper. The slave was then passed off from Escort to Escort until out of the country. The last safe house provided identification and money for the slaves, keeping them away from the clutches of Dystonia. The reason the system worked so well was because Escorts were never allowed to have contact with each other outside of the system. Hell, they weren't even allowed to know each other's names. This was so if one Escort got caught, he or she wouldn't be able to give the whole system away. This was how communication worked. And it obviously worked well, since the Nakii Safeway had never been discovered.

It sounds sketchy, I know. And believe me, there have been a few close calls. If you could imagine how a rich politician would feel when his trophy and sex slaves keep disappearing, multiply that anger times 10. Sex slaves are quite replaceable, and while they are embarrassed their slave got away, the anger quickly dissolves. But if you get a trophy slave out, it's a big deal. It is actually pretty rare to get a trophy slave out safely. In fact, it has only happened 10 times in the 15 years the Nakii Safeway has existed. On average, we get about 2 slaves out per week. Sometimes 3. However, most of these slaves come from lowly farmers in the countryside or auction outlets. Even still, once a month we usually get a sex slave from some rich bastard. And, of course, it is always lovely to dream about saving a trophy slave.

At exactly 6, the girl and I headed back into the tunnels. She had been silent all morning, and looked oddly at the floor. It made me nervous. Recently, we had been getting a lot of sex slaves from Lord Harper, one of the worst lords of Dystonia. Every single slave we rescued from him seemed to be scarred deeply, and was never able to become happy again, despite the fact that they were free. I walked closer to her, in some sort of pathetic attempt to make her feel more at ease.

"So, what's your name?" I asked softly. She looked up, with a surprised expression. It was soon replaced with a faint smile.

"Lorena. Lorena Malcolm. And yours?"

I laughed half-heartedly. "I wish I could tell you my full name, but it's kind of against protocol. Feel free to call me Emi." She smiled at me again, but a real smile, one that could be genuine. I wished I could get to know her better. I wished that everything was different, and that these poor people I had been meeting I could actually connect with. It made me sad for a second, but I quickly snapped out of my reverie, reminding myself why I was here.

"Look, I know that last night was really hard for you, and that you probably would like to rest and relax for a few days. However, there is no way that I can do that. I am taking you to the main base of these underground tunnels, and there you will meet with your next Escort. This will continue until you are safely out of the country. It may take a week, and it might even take a month. Just remember to stay strong, and know that freedom is ahead."

Lorena looked slightly confused. When I gave her a questioning look, she asked in a quiet voice, "but won't I ever see you again? And are you going to be alright?"

I smiled sadly and touched her shoulder. "I've been doing this for years, I'll be fine."

Before she could reply, however, she let out a blood-curdling scream and fell to the floor. I hastily kneeled beside her, and tried to keep her calm and quiet. However, she would not stop screaming. Panicking, I asked her repetitively what was wrong, and was attempting to control her by grabbing her thrashing arms.

"Lorena! Lorena what the hell is going on?!" But she kept screaming and screaming. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she was shaking uncontrollably. I knew that I couldn't fix this alone.

"Help! Please, someone, help me goddammit!" I shrieked down the tunnel, hoping that the Escort in the main base could hear me. And then suddenly, it stopped. She finally lay still. I was hoping that this was a good sign. However, when I looked back at her, her body wasn't moving. My eyes went to hers, only to see them lifelessly looking up at the ceiling. Tears began to fall onto my cheeks.

"No no no please Lorena please don't do this!" But it was too late, and she had already left me. Screaming in frustration, I stood up and ran down the tunnel. I needed to find some help. I needed to know that maybe there was still some sort of hope for the poor girl I had left behind me, laying there lifelessly. However, as I was running towards the main base, I heard a faint popping sound. Before I knew it, a metal net was encasing my entire body, bruising me as it came onto me from out of the darkness of the tunnel. I shrieked and fell to the floor. I immediately tried to get it off me and stand up, but I learned quickly that it was impossible to do so, since the net was so heavy. Still I struggled, until I heard footsteps coming from the main base. Suddenly, two men came into view, and each wielded a uniform that I only knew too well, the Dystonia City Police. Shit.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here, another Escort," said the first one, a tall looking man in his 40's.

"Damn! This is like the tenth one already! How many do you think they have?" This man was about the same age, but very short and fat.

"Who the hell cares? Point is, this "Nakii Safeway" or whatever the fuck they called it is gonna be gone now." This statement made me perk up.

"Nice try asswipe. But I don't think that will ever happen," I said confidently, looking up at the two morons.

"Well this one has quite the mouth," said the fat officer, chuckling to his partner. "But I think I know a way to fix that." He smirked, and grabbed his package through his pants. Before I could respond, the taller one leaned down to look into my eyes. His eyes were cold, unwelcoming. He was definitely more intimidating then the fat one.

"Oh really? Because we have already captured the leaders of the Nakii System. This is just us cleaning up the scraps."

Dumbfounded, I tried to speak. "Wha- But how? This is impossible... I don't under-"

"I know. It did seem impossible. But thanks to your little friend-" he pointed down the tunnel back to where Lorena's body lay still "-we were able to find out about this entire system. Oh, don't fret too much. It was only a matter of time." He then pointed his tranquilizer gun at my neck, and shot out a dart. Everything went black.