Camp

# 1

On her fourth night of camping, Bethany is finally starting to feel like she's gotten the hang of setting up her tent. It's really just a matter of balancing opposing forces against each other, when you get right down to it, and of practice. She finishes getting the little dome of colorful fabric set up and stands back for a moment to admire her own work. It looks, well, not exactly perfect but passable. She stretches, breathing in the scent of cedar and freshly-fallen rain, and kneels down to start digging in her pack for dinner.

She's also starting to be able to put together a tolerable fire, she thinks with a small flush of satisfaction. With less than ten minutes' work she's able to find some wood that is at least somewhat dry and get a small but comfortable blaze going atop the remains of some previous camper's fire. She heats a bit of water and tips it into a pouch of freeze-dried beef stew, then sits down crosslegged in front of her tent to eat it. Around her, she hears the soft hooting of an owl somewhere off among the trees, the gentle rustle of wind in the leaves, and what sounds like it might be every single bug on God's earth, out to enjoy the summer evening with her.

The beef stew, despite being objectively not good, is exactly what her body needs after a hard day of hiking with everything she needs on her back, and she has to force herself to eat slowly and savor it. Once she finishes, she applies another layer of insect repellent, puts out her fire, and crawls into her tent. It's too hot for her sleeping bag, or really for clothes, but she compromises between comfort and modesty by stripping down to her bra, panties, and t-shirt. She kneels atop her sleeping bag to say her evening prayers, then curls up to sleep, lulled by the song of the crickets.

# 2

Bethany wakes with a start, nerves singing with an abrupt flood of tension. The old senses of her body are screaming danger at her, but as she's just starting to blink sleep from her eyes, something heavy lands atop her and forces her onto her back. She struggles, opening her mouth to scream, but a rough, strong hand clamps over her face. Before she can react, she's being rolled over, shoved roughly onto her stomach, and one of her hands is being wrenched behind her back. She feels the crushing pressure of a knee driven into her back, pinning her wrist painfully, then her other hand is seized and dragged behind her as well. She tries to wriggle away, but it's all too much and her attacker is far too strong for her to fight. She hears a pair of loud clicks and then feels steel biting painfully into her wrists. The hand over her mouth abruptly vanishes, but when she opens her mouth to scream, a ball of some kind is roughly shoved between her teeth, muffling her cries.

The pressure on her back eases up abruptly, and she feels the weight atop her shifting slightly. One of her ankles is siezed and she hears another click as a cuff is fastened around it, then her leg is dragged, metal pulling with bruising force against bone, towards her other ankle. She tries to kick free, but the attacker takes her other calf in a powerful grip and locks the cuffs shut, binding her ankles firmly together.

"There we go," the person mutters. Bethany realizes with a start that it's unmistakably a woman's voice. What could a woman want with her? She shivers in fear, trying to speak, but all she can make are the grunting, whimpering sounds of a terrified animal. The pressure on her back vanishes altogether, and Bethany is finally able to take a shuddering breath, free of the other woman's weight pressing down on her. Suddenly, strong arms roll her over onto her back, and she gets a brief glimpse of a silhouette above her before she's hoisted upwards. The woman carries Bethany with no apparent effort, hauling her out of her tent and carrying her over to a jeep parked a few dozen feet away. She lays Bethany across the back seats, slams the door, and vanishes.

Bethany gives in to her fear and breaks down into tears, too stunned and terrified to do anything else. It's a nightmare - it has to be a nightmare - but it all feels so awfully, grotesquely real that she feels a horrible, yawning fear that it's not. She's all alone out here, without anyone coming to save her, and she feels a sudden pang of desperate longing for her parents. They'd never wanted her to go out backpacking, but she'd insisted, like the idiot she is, that she'd be fine. With a muffled wail of anguish, she flexes her wrists, pulling against the cuffs with sudden desperation, but they're clamped on tightly and struggling achieves nothing but bruising her wrists. Bereft of anything else to do, Bethany sobs silently, digging for the serenity inside her to pray.

# 3

After a horribly tense wait, she hears footsteps coming towards the jeep again, and hears the front door being opened. Something heavy is tossed inside - her pack, from the sound of it - and then she hears the woman get into the driver's seat. She starts the car and begins driving down the heavily rutted forest road that leads to the campsite Bethany had hiked to. The ride is rough and all Bethany can do is try to brace herself for the bumps and jolts and try not to fall off the seat. She desperately wishes she could talk to her captor, but the woman doesn't say anything to her and the gag between her teeth prevents her from speaking. More than anything, Bethany wants to know what the woman wants from her. If it's money, Bethany has a little bit with her, and her credit card, and she'd be glad to give up every penny of it to be let go. She's starting to fear, though, that the woman wants something worse, and her mind won't stop conjuring up visions of exactly what that might be.

The ride must be at least fifteen minutes, although Bethany has no way to judge the passing time. The cuffs on her wrists and ankles are biting in painfully, and the gag and her own sobbing are making it difficult to breathe. One particularly vicious bump in the road hurls her backwards into the seat, and her weight lands on her cuffed wrists with bruising force. She yelps into the gag in pain and surprise, then a moment later the car stops. The woman gets out, opens the front door, and disappears for a moment.

A minute later, the door next to Bethany opens, and she's dragged roughly out. The woman picks her up bodily again and carries her into a small wooden cabin. The inside is cramped, almost claustrophobic, with only a few simple furnishings. A roaring fire, burning away in a stove in one corner, is the only source of light and warmth. The woman drops Bethany on a wooden bed, then vanishes again. Bethany lifts her head as much as she can to look around, but there's precious little to see - just a tiny kitchen area, a table with a couple of chairs, the fireplace, and a few shelves of canned goods and other provisions. Out the windows she can see the barest shades of trees in the darkness, and a handful of hard and cold stars scattered across the sky.

The front door swings open again, and Bethany finally gets her first good look at the woman who kidnapped her. She's stocky, perhaps five or six inches taller than Bethany herself, with copper-red hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She looks solidly built, and even from here Bethany can tell that she's far more powerfully muscled. She looks like someone who spends all day at hard manual labor or something similar, and she's wearing rugged outdoors clothes - boots, jeans, and a flannel shirt - that exactly fit that impression. When Bethany meets the woman's eyes, she's not surprised to see something fierce there. The woman catches Bethany's gaze and smirks at her. She strips off her flannel shirt and leans down to unlace her boots, leaving herself in just a tank top, then drags one of the chairs over to next to the bed and takes a seat.

She leans down, reaching behind Bethany's head, and unfastens something, then pulls the gag from Bethany's mouth. Bethany immediately opens her mouth to shout, but the woman clamps a calloused hand over it before she can make a sound.

"Uh-uh," she says. "I'm gonna let you talk a little, but I want something understood real quick. You behave, you and I get to have a little fun, you go on your way. You don't behave..."

She draws a long serrated knife from a sheath on her belt and holds it up. Bethany's eyes widen, fixed on the way the firelight reflects off the edge. It looks impossibly sharp. The woman catches her eye, gives her a tiny nod, then puts her knife away.

"As I was saying," she says, "you don't behave, and there are plenty of places around here to bury you where nobody'll ever find you. Now. Let's have a nice, respectful conversation, you and me, and no yelling."

Bethany nods frantically, and the woman lets go of her mouth. Bethany sucks in a deep, shuddering lungful of air, the woman's words running through her mind: you behave, you and I get to have a little fun, you go on your way. Bethany isn't sure what kind of fun this monster wants with her, but she'll do anything rather than be murdered out here in the woods.

"Now," the woman says. "What's your name, sweet girl?"

Bethany's breath catches in her throat. "M - my name?"

The woman looks at her like it's a stupid question. After a couple of seconds of silence, Bethany stammers out: "B-bethany."

The woman grunts. "Nice. Suits you. Now, Bethany, what were you doing all the way out here?"

"I'm, I'm backpacking. Um. Up to Coal Junction. Then east from there."

The woman snorts. "Long walk for such a little girl. How old're you?"

"Um. Twenty. Twenty-one in a month."

"Well," the woman says. She lays a hand on one of Bethany's bare thighs, making her flinch in surprise. Her skin is rough and hot on Bethany's, and she fights the immediate, reflexive urge to squirm away. The woman reaches for the delicate chain around Bethany's neck, tugs on it lightly, and draws her cross out from beneath her t-shirt and sports bra.

"Huh. You a Christian, Bethany? A proper woman of God?"

Bethany doesn't like the tone of the woman's voice, but she gives a jerky nod in reply.

"Saving yourself for marriage, then, I bet?"

Bethany feels her face flush hot. "Y - yes," she croaks out. She's had a couple of boyfriends, but never anyone serious enough for - for that.

A smile steals over the woman's face, lazy and confident, like a savannah lion realizing this particular gazelle isn't going anywhere.

"Well well," the woman says. "Just what I like. I saw you earlier today and I knew you'd be just perfect. So, sweet girl, here's what we're gonna do. You and I are gonna make a little movie together, and so long as you behave yourself nicely and do everything I tell you, tomorrow morning I'll take you right back to that campsite of yours and you can be on your merry way. If you decide you don't want to behave so nice, then I'll do what I want with you anyway, then bury you in the woods out back. That's the deal. Now, Bethany, are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

Bethany swallows, mouth dry. What else can she say? Whatever this woman is going to do to her, she's going to do anyway, and Bethany would rather live. In a small voice, she says: "I'll - I'll be good."

"Attagirl. Now, let's get those arms a little more comfortable." The woman rolls Bethany onto her stomach and fiddles with the cuffs for a few seconds, then the pressure on her wrists and shoulders is abruptly released. The woman rolls her back over, then takes Bethany's wrists in her hands. Her grip feels even less escapable than the cuffs. She pulls Bethany's wrists above her head and, with another pair of clicks, cuffs them to the head of the bed. Bethany winces as blood gradually flows back into her arms, grateful for the relief. The woman reaches down to her ankles and undoes the cuffs there, as well, relieving the bruising force on her bones there.

"There we go. That's much better, ain't it?"

Bethany nods. The woman wraps one hand around the back of her head, threading her fingers through her hair, and squeezes slightly, applying just the barest pressure. The sensation makes Bethany gasp in pain, and she squeezes her eyes shut, anticipating more. The woman leans close to her and whispers in her ear. "Thank me out loud, an' call me Mistress when you do, sweet girl."

Bethany winces as the woman punctuates her command with another momentary squeeze. "Yes! Um, t-thank you."

The woman's grip abruptly tightens, pulling hard on Bethany's hair. She yelps in pain. "Thank you what?"

"Thank you M-mistress!"

The woman scowls. "Don't forget again, girl, or next time'll be a lot worse." She sits back in her chair, evidently considering Bethany, gaze roving over her body. Bethany flushes, embarassed and vulnerable. The woman says nothing, but after a silent minute, stands and fetches a camera and tripod from one of the cupboards. She sets it up facing the bed and takes her time making a few adjustments.

"There we go," she says. "Now we're all set. You ready to help make a movie?"

Bethany trembles, biting her lip. Is the woman really going to - isn't she another woman? Is she planning to... to what? Nonetheless, she manages to choke out: "Y-yes."

The woman swoops closer to Bethany, taking her hair once again in a crushing grip. She pulls it so painfully tight that tears squeeze from the corners of Bethany's eyes. The woman's tone is hard: "Yes what?"

"Yes Mistress!"

"That's better. I don't want to have to remind you again. Now, let's see..."

She turns away for a couple of minutes, moving out of Bethany's field of view, and when she turns back, she's wearing a... thing on her hips. It juts out obscenely, looking like an oversized black - Bethany doesn't want to use the word, even in the privacy of her own thoughts. It glistens, dripping with some kind of liquid, and Bethany's eyes widen as she suddenly realizes what the woman wants to do.

"Wait," she begins, but the woman simply takes a couple of steps toward her, stuffs the gag back into her mouth, and buckles it behind her head. Bethany shouts into the gag, trying to beg, but the woman climbs onto the bed, grabs one of Bethany's ankles with each hand, and tugs her legs up and apart. Bethany tries to squirm away but the woman is far too strong, and before she can do anything she feels something cold and slippery pressing against her entrance. Bethany tugs uselessly against the cuffs binding her wrists, and the woman leans forward, bringing her face inches from Bethany's. She stares down at her, eyes burning.

"You ready to lose your virginity, sweet girl? Bet you were saving it for some nice boy, down the line, but I'm gonna take it instead. This is always gonna be your first time. How's that feel?"

Bethany screams into the gag, trying to plead - to beg, to promise the woman anything she wants - but the woman just laughs. "That's right," she says. "You're always gonna be the good little girl who took a big fat strap from a dyke. It's gonna feel so good for me, sweet girl. I hope you're ready, because here it comes."

Bethany feels a horrible sense of pressure between her legs, then the head of the... thing forcing its way inside her. She's too weak to throw the woman off or even struggle, and all she can do is endure the awful stretching feeling, the nauseating growing feeling of fullness, and then she feels an abrupt spike of pain. She winces, tears rolling down her cheeks, and the woman, still watching her face, gives her a predatory smile.

"That's my girl. The first time's always the hardest."

She keeps pressing inside Bethany with her hip muscles, driving deeper and deeper, and Bethany feels like she's being split apart from the inside. It's too big, far too big, her body can't take this, she's going to - oh God, she sobs into her gag, please God, save me. The woman keeps a steady pressure, driving the horrid thing all the way inside her, and eventually her hipbones press against the insides of Bethany's thighs.

"The entire thing," the woman says. "My my. Wasn't expecting you to be so accomodating. You sure you're a virgin, sweet girl?"

Bethany nods frantically, terrified that the woman might think she lied.

"Huh," the woman replies. "Well, not any more. Now, lemme show you how sex feels."

The woman gradually withdraws, and just as Bethany's gasping in relief, she slams the thing home again, drawing a fresh agonized cry. She pulls out and forces in again and again, over and over, at first slowly and then faster and faster, grunting her obvious enjoyment. Bethany sobs and wails, feeling like she's being ripped apart in body and spirit, eyes squeezed firmly shut as her tears soak the pillow beneath her. Abruptly, the woman draws the thing out of her, unbuckles the harness, tosses it on the floor, then shucks off her jeans and underwear. She unbuckles the gag, yanks it roughly out of Bethany's mouth, plants one knee on either side of Bethany's head and lowers her crotch over her face.

"You got me good and hot, taking that strap like that, sweet girl," the woman growls. She takes Bethany's hair in one hand again and yanks her head upwards, burying her mouth and nose in her scent. "Get that tongue of yours busy. Gonna teach you how to be a good little pussy eater."

Bethany has no idea what she's supposed to do, but the insistent grip in her hair tells her that she'd better do something unless she wants to be hurt again, so she cautiously sticks out her tongue. The woman's skin tastes like musk and earth, salt and cedar, and the instant her tongue touches it the woman roughly mashes Bethany's face into her crotch. With her other hand she's rubbing herself, making fast little circles at the top of her vagina. "Lick, girl," she hisses.

Bethany does her best. The woman's stickiness soon coats her face, filling her mouth and nose with her smell and taste, and it's all Bethany can do to snatch a breath now and then as the woman grinds into her face. Eventually, the woman above her cries out in ecstasy, thighs squeezing Bethany with crushing pressure, and then, panting, she gradually relaxes. She slips off the bed and stands, looking down at Bethany.

"Now that," she says, "was good pussy-eating. I'd swear you already had some experience. You have some experience, sweet girl?"

Bethany shakes her head.

"Mm," the woman says. "Well, maybe we'll get you some more. Now, let's get a real good look down here..."

She picks up the camera off its tripod and carries it down between Bethany's legs. Startled, Bethany presses her thighs together, but the woman swats one of them painfully. "Legs open, sweet girl. Gotta give the people a proper show."

Whimpering softly, Bethany parts her legs, and she feels the woman's fingers parting her folds. "Oh yeah," the woman says, appreciative. "You were a virgin alright. Ain't that a thing of beauty." The woman presses the tip of one finger slightly inside her, making her gasp in pain, then withdraws it. The fingertip trails gradually down to the bottom of her vagina, then downward further still, until it comes to rest against her butt. Bethany squeezes her legs together again by instinct, feeling terribly vulnerable, and the woman laughs.

"Only one virgin hole left, seems like. You want me to take your cherry here too, sweet girl?"

Bethany shakes her head. "No, p-please, I -"

"Well, ain't that too bad," the woman says. She picks up the harness off the floor, still coated in slick fluids and what looks very much like some blood, and fastens it back on her hips. She grabs Bethany's legs and forces her onto her stomach - Bethany's too worn-out and afraid to put up even a token resistance - and a moment later she's behind her, rough powerful hands gripping Bethany's hipbones tight.

"You know what we're about to do? It's called anal sex, sweet girl, and it's one of my favorite things in the whole world. Especially with a girl who's never done it before. It's just... there's something about it. You just use the gentlest, softest pressure..."

Bethany feels a light but steadily building pressure against her butt. It builds and builds until, abruptly, she feels her body let go and the thing starts to slide into her. It hurts horribly, stretching her out with a burning sensation that makes her feel sick in the pit of her stomach, and she screams in pain. The woman seems to not mind at all; she just keeps up the gentle, relentless violation, tearing open Bethany's most private place.

"That's it," the woman murmurs. "Hurts a lot, don't it?"

Bethany sobs, tears fogging her eyes, her entire being focused on the agonizing feeling of being violated. The woman keeps pressing and pressing and Bethany feels fuller and fuller, until she feels like she's going to throw up, and then she feels the leather harness against the cheeks of her butt. The woman holds her hips with a grip of iron, filling Bethany completely, and Bethany squirms helplessly.

"There you go," she says. "All the way in. Now, thank me for taking your anal virginity."

Bethany's too shocked to reply, dazed. The woman smacks her, hard, on one of her butt cheeks, and the jolt of pain wakes her up. "I'm - th-th-thank you for... for taking m-my a-anal virginity, M-mistress."

"You're very welcome, sweet girl. I ain't gonna give you a proper fucking like this, 'cause you ain't practiced at it and I don't wanna tear you up, but I'd damn well like to. Maybe later." With that, she gradually starts drawing the horrific thing back out of Bethany's butt, leaving an aching, stinging feeling behind. The moment her hips are released, Bethany draws her knees up to her chest, curling up into a ball as small as she can, and sobs helplessly.

The woman gets up, sheds the harness again, and goes to check on the camera. "Mm," she says. "Perfect. Alright sweet girl, I think we're about done making our movie. I'm gonna give you something to put you to sleep for a bit, and when you wake up you'll be right back where you were. Don't worry though, I'll leave you something to remember all the fun we had together by."

"Wait, no, you don't need to put me to sleep. I'll be good! I promise! Please don't!"

The woman smirks and picks up a syringe. "Won't hurt a bit, I promise." Before Bethany can say anything else, the woman sinks the syringe into one of her thighs, and she spirals into unconsciousness.

# 4

Bethany awakes, groggy and dazed, on something soft and comfortable. She blinks as the morning sunlight gradually filters through her brain, and then sits up with a start as the memories of the previous night come flooding back to her. She looks around, but no - she's back at her campsite, and she'd been lying on her bedroll with her pack by her side. There's no sign at all of the woman, or of anyone else.

A few seconds later the pain arrives. Her wrists ache - when she rolls her sleeves up there are rings of bruises circling them - and her vagina and butt both feel painfully raw. She slips one hand beneath her pants and panties to feel herself, and she's shocked to find the hair she normally has down there missing. She yanks her pants and underwear down, and sure enough, she's completely hairless. There's also a small irritated, darkened area on the inside of each thigh that she can't quite see. She digs frantically in her pack for her signaling mirror and bends over so she can hold it up to get a better look.

On each inner thigh, on either side of her vagina, is a small, crudely-done tattoo of the word "USED".