The snap of a twig made Vicky nearly jump out of her skin.  She’d been crouched here in the thicket for what seemed to be hours and her legs were beginning to cramp.  Sweat trickled down between her breasts.  She was naked under the tattered, oversized t-shirt that her Master had given her to wear.  She’d lost one of her sandals someplace in the woods.  She was thirsty and tired but she did not want to get caught.  

            There were others out here with her.  Some had already been captured and taken back to the waiting area to be claimed once the hunt was over.   She’d not seen anyone for quite a while but she could hear them every now and then stepping as quietly as possible.  Male and females slaves, such as herself, had been released into this wooded and meadowed area some two hours ago.  Two hours of the hunt still remained.  They did it for sport, the Masters and Mistresses of The Manor.  It amused them and to be honest, she loved it, in a fear-filled way.  It was the adult version of hide and seek only there was no home free spot and if caught they could kick and scream and try to get away as much as they wanted to.  Of course, that would mean a more severe punishment once they were all back to The Manor.  She didn’t want to be punished but she didn’t want to be caught either.  The last slave caught was to be rewarded handsomely but the Lady of The Manor didn’t say how.

            There was a sudden burst of sound and movement too close to her right.  She squatted down, unsure what it was.  A male slave, clad only in a lose fitting loin cloth that did little to cover much of anything, sprinted past her at top speed.  He was collared but no chains on wrists or ankles hindered his attempt at escape.   Close behind him a Domme in her best hunting attire ran after him.  A net, a rope and a stiff looking crop smacked her in the thigh as she hastened past Vicky’s hiding spot.  She had gone unseen and held her breath until they were out of sight. 

            “Well, who have we here?”  The voice was deep and sure.

            Vicky turned around too quickly and toppled out of the bushes protection. It was Lord Malcom, tall, dark haired and exceptionally cruel at times. He smiled calmly.  She gave a startled scream and shot out from her hiding place as fast as she could.  She didn’t get very far.  With one sandal missing and the ground hazardous with broken twigs, leaves and the like she only made it about twenty yards before a heavy net crashed down on her head, pushing her to the forest floor.  She tried to scramble away, tugging at the net, but only tangled herself up in it more.  With a helpless little cry, Vicky surrendered. 

The Dom was standing right by her head now, his boot inches from her.  “Care to tell me who you are?”

            She thought a moment and shook her head. She could still get away.  He had to get her out of this net, blindfolded and bound before he could take her back to the holding camp.  She’d not tell her name until she was at the camp or until someone recognized her.

1.

He chuckled, “Make it easier on yourself if you just cooperate.” He reached down with one hand, under the net and gathered up her mess of hair into his big fist.  With his other hand he moved the net away from her face.  “Don’t make me have to pull you up by your hair, little one.”  He tossed the rest of the netting away from her with his free hand and grabbed her bicep.  “Come on, get up.”

            She so wanted to run.  She wanted to kick at him and bite his bare hand and twist herself out of his grip but he was so much stronger than her.  She rose up reluctantly, feeling the firm hold he had on her hair.  Once she was up, he let go and held both her wrists together.  She twisted them a little, tugging, testing the strength behind it.  He chuckled.  “You aren’t going anyplace, little one.”

            Before she realized it she glared at him and let out a slight growl.  He just laughed at her.  “When I find out who you belong to you better believe they will know what a fight you gave me.”

            “I’ve given you no fight!” she blurted out and instantly regretted it. 

            That chuckle was maddening.  “She growled and glared at me instead of just coming along quietly.  That’s good enough.”

            Now Vicky really did want to give him a fight.  If she was going to be accused of it anyway, why not really do it?  Because then she be punished even more.  But what if she got away?  What if she could manage to outrun him yet?  The thought raced through her mind just as the ropes were being tied around her wrists.  He wasn’t being gentle about it either.  She winced and glared at him again.  The blindfold quickly slipped into place.  “No more of that, little one.”  He slipped a colored band around her wrist which would mark her as his capture and would earn him a prize as well. 

            Vicky’s arms were tugged forward and he led her out of the woods and back down the hill towards the holding camp.  There she would wait, bound and blindfolded until all would return.  Then the real torments would begin.  She felt her skin prickle under the t-shirt and her body shivered with something other than the cold.

            They were crowded into a fenced in area.  Bodies, mostly bare flesh, touched her on all sides in the blindfolded darkness.  She was sitting on the ground, her wrists bound up slightly over her head and in front of her so she could not even try to stand.  Someone, silent, was washing the cut on her shin. It was bandaged and she wanted to thank them but for some reason did not dare speak.   Who was beside her?  Was it a man or a woman.  She couldn’t tell.  Everything smelled of sweat and woods and dirt.  She’d been given a drink of water as soon as she’d arrived and every once in awhile someone would come by and offer more to those who were captives.  Where was her Master?   He could be sitting right there in front of her, watching and she’d never know.  Somehow that thought made her shudder, shudder with want for him.  Would the Dom who’d caught her really tell him she’d been bad and given him a fight?  

2.

Vicky was lulled into a strange trance-like sleep by the sounds around her.   She rested her head on her upraised arms as best she could.  Her body was starting to ache.  She wanted to lie down or walk around or do something.  Her butt was getting numb.  How much longer would this go on? 

            The blast of the air horn snapped her awake.  Something was going on?  Voices, lots of voices and movement and laughter.  Was it over?  Would they be set free now and returned to their Sirs and Ma’ams?  She didn’t know.  She was pulled to her feet gently.

            “This one goes with Lord Malcom’s.  He got quite a haul today.”  She was handed off to someone else, walked a few paces then tied to a group of people.  They were being sorted out.  That’s what was going on.   Sorted and counted to see who had captured the most.  Then they surely would be set free.  They had to be.  She wanted her Master.  She waited patiently while everyone was put with their groups.  She listened for her Master’s voice in the crowd but could not find him. 

            “We have our winner.”  It was the Lord of The Manor.  A hush fell over the crowd.  “With five captures, including her own slave, Mistress Joan!”  Everyone cheered wildly and applauded.  Vicky smiled that a woman had out hunted the men.  Good for her.  “In second place, Lord Malcom with four captives and in third place Sir Creo with two.” 

            She listened.  Awards or something were being handed out.  “Now, we can’t have these filthy creatures messing up The Manor so we have arranged some washing stations over by the pavilion.  There is soap, water, wash clothes and towels.  If you all will now step forward, claim your own and take them to be hosed down.”  The Lord of The Manor chuckled.

            Hosed down!!  Vicky’s mind screamed.  What was this, Planet of the Apes?  She was NOT about to be hosed down in front of anyone!  No way!  “Come, pet.  Time to tidy you up.”   It  was her Master.  He took off the blindfold and smiled at her.  It was like seeing an angel standing in front of her. 

            “You won’t hose me down will you, Sir?”  She asked, almost pleading.

            His smile told her otherwise.  “Well, we can’t have you going back to the party like this can we?”  He led her over to the line that was forming.  “Besides, its not that big a deal.  A little water, a little soaping up then we rinse you off and wrap you in the towel.  What can be so difficult in that?”

            They took a step forward. “But in front of everyone?”

            What was so amusing to everyone today?  He chuckled.  “My dear, you’ve been stripped and shaved and whipped and spanked in front of all these people before?  What’s the big concern over this?”

3.

He was right.  She had been.  She looked up at the head of the line she stood in.  There were three lines in total.  Each was attended to by one of The Manor slaves who held out whatever the Dominant needed.  Vicky’s eyes widened as she watched while one after another of her brothers or sisters was bound again, arms overhead, ankles parted with a spreader and submitted to the public washing.  She cringed inside.  Could she do that?  Her Master tugged her a couple steps closer.  She leaned against him. “I can’t do this, Sir.  Please.”

            “Yes you can.”

            “No, please.  I can’t do this.  Its too much.”

            “Say the word and I won’t.  I’ll ask for a private shower.”  He grinned at her, still nudging her forward.

            Vicky sucked on her lip.  Oh god.  She didn’t want to but he wanted her to.  He wanted her to submit to this humiliation.  He did.  “Please.”  She pleaded quietly to him.

            “Say the word.”

            She couldn’t say it, of course.  There were only three people in front of them now.  She clung to him, afraid and excited at the same time.  Everyone else had done it.  His hands slipped up under her tattered night shirt then pulled it up over her head.  “Last chance.”  He offered.

            She shook her head, even as the tears burned down her face and her arms were lifted up and hooked overhead.  He nudged her legs apart and hooked the spreader into place.  She was shaking so hard inside she couldn’t think.  She closed her eyes and endured it all.  The warm water dumped over her, the soapy wash cloth, the rough shampooing of her hair and the eventual rinsing off.   Before she knew it it was over and a towel was being wrapped around her waist.  She was set free again and this time, even the ropes on her wrists were removed.  She held onto her Master’s hand tightly as they followed the others back into The Manor. 

            “I heard you gave Lord Malcom quite a difficult time in the forest?”  He gave her a vague and impish sidelong glance.  “Is that true?”

Was it true?  Had she given him a hard time?  Vicky didn’t think so but then that was part of the game, too, wasn’t it.  She shrugged, “A little bit, Sir.”

            “Just a little?”  He pulled her to a stop and stared into her eyes.  “A little?”

            Vicky swallowed and nodded, “Only a little.”   But I wanted to kick him in the balls, she thought to herself.

            Her Master nodded and they headed along the short path that led to The Manor. It was a huge three-story structure that looked out into the wide, valley below.  You could see the main road from here and the tiny specks that made up the houses of the town.  If you looked very closely you could even see the cemetery down on the left.  It was nearing five o’clock and the sky was a dark blue, dusted with clouds.  The pond below the house was still.  A small canoe rested on its bank

4.

Inside The Manor, the wooden staircase was accented with a wood and wrought iron railing.  They headed upstairs together, passing others, and headed to their private quarters.  There was nothing fancy about The Manor.  It was its simplicity that gave it elegance.  Vicky loved it when her Master told her they were going to come here.

            He sat down in the chair.  “Take my boots off and then go get my shower going,” he told her.

            She knew the ritual by now.  It was one of her favorites.  She did as he told her than came back.  His hand was held out to her.  She kissed it softly.  She loved his smile when she did that.  He stood up and let her undress him then together they returned to the bathroom and the shower.  Once in, her Master had to do little.  Vicky washed him, as he had her outside, only much more slowly and much more gently.  She shampooed his hair and amongst all the hot water and bubbles they would on occasion kiss.  When all was done he pulled her up and held her tightly against his body.  “You did great today, sweet one.  But you were a little bit naughty and for that I’ll have to think of a reasonable punishment once we are back downstairs.”  He kissed her little frown. 

            “I was only a little bit bad, Sir.” 

            His lips touched her forehead.  “I doubt you were bad at all but its fun to pretend you were, isn’t it?”  He looked into her eyes and his face took on a familiar sternness.  “I believe I’ll let Lord Malcom decide what’s to be done with you.  It was he you offended.”

            Her eyes grew wider but to protest would be of no use.  Lord Malcom was known for his severe punishments, especially with a flogger.  Vicky took the wise route and nodded her consent without further comment.  Punished by Lord Malcom, she didn’t like that idea at all.

He’d had Vicky dress in her black harness and chastity belt.  Her neck, wrists and ankles were all circled with shiny metal bands, padlocked into place.  A leash hung down her back, its handle in her Master’s hand.  She’d been instructed not to speak to anyone but him nor to look into anyone’s eyes but his.  She was biting her tongue, listening to him and Lord Malcom decide her fate for the night.

            “Oh yes, she gave me a little growl, glared at me a number of times and I dare say I felt more than one good tug on the lead rope after I’d bound her hands up.” 

            Tugged on the rope?  Well, yes, she had, but only because she’d stumbled over a bunch of sticks.  He should have warned her.  How could she know they were there with that stupid blindfold on for Pete’s sake!  Vicky held her breath and pressed her lips tighter together.  She was beginning to wish she really had tried to get away!

            “Anything to say for yourself, my dear?”  Her Master was addressing her.  “Did you want to get away from him?”

5.

Boy did she ever!  “Yes, Sir,” was all she said.

            “In that case, I’m going to hand you over to him for the next  hour.  I’m sure you won’t mind.”  He patted her bare ass with the palm of his hand. 

            She looked at her Master, eyes pleading.  He only smiled.  Again the thoughts moved through her as to why she was protesting so.  She’d played with others publically before.  She’d been punished while her Master looked on.  He’d punished her himself before these people.  In fact, he was always harder on her than the others were, always.

He pushed her limits in ways none of the others knew how.  But this was Lord Malcom,

Mal his good friends called him.  Malicious, is what Vicky thought, Lord Malicious. 

            “You may answer Lord Malcom’s questions, Vicky but remember what rules I have given you for tonight.  Understood?”

            He was handing the end of her leash over to this other man.  “Yes, Sir.” 

            “Good.”  He kissed her cheek, patted her ass again and whispered in her ear.  “Have fun, love.  Show him and me a good time, will you?”  She saw his smile then and knew that she could not deny him.

            The leash was being tugged and Vicky followed Lord Malcom across the room and to the chair which was his.  He sat forward in the chair and patted his lap.  “We’ll start with a rather sound spanking.”   She knelt down, then carefully draped herself over his lap.  Lord Malcom drew the leash taut and placed the end under his foot so she could not lift her head up.  His hand, much larger than that of her Master’s, rubbed her bare ass in a slow, soft circle.  She knew people were watching.  She knew her Master was watching.  She could not help the little burst of a scream that came when Lord Malcom’s hand smacked her ass for the first time.

            WHACK!!

            Her ass must be as red as her best Christmas dress by now, Vicky thought.  Lord Malcom had stopped spanking her and was rubbing an ice cube over the area.  She could hear little sounds of oohs and aahs from those watching.  Gods, how she hated to be watched like this.  Or did she?   She sank over his lap, wishing this would be over with soon.  He lifted the toe of his boot to release the leash and let her up.  “Kneel there for a bit.  We aren’t done with you just yet.”

            Vicky nodded and instantly felt his eyes on her.  “A nod?”  She nodded, saying nothing again.  “Do you need to have an extra hour added to your time with me?  A yes, Sir would be in order when I ask you a question.”

            “Yes, Sir.”

            “That’s better.  Stay here.  I need to speak to your Master.”  He draped the leash handle over the arm of his chair and walked away. 

6.

Vicky wanted to look around the room.  She needed to see what other people were doing and who was standing there staring at her.  If only she could crawl under this chair and hide from all the eyes.  She wanted a drink and she’d not eaten yet.  Her stomach growled at the thought of the buffet table they had passed on their way down.  Her ass was so sore and warm she could barely sit still like this.  She saw Lord Malcom’s boots suddenly in front of her.  “Give them a kiss and we can proceed.”

            She hesitated but lowered herself down and kissed the black leather.  It wasn’t as nice as kissing her Master’s boots but it wasn’t so bad either.  Lord Malcom stepped back and sat down.  A stainless steel bowl was set in front of her.  “Ginger ale for you and something to eat.  No hands.”  Another bowl, full of items from the buffet was set down beside the first.  She looked at a piece of ham roll that stuck out from under some potato salad.  Her stomach flipped with hunger.  Vicky’s eyes narrowed but she did not look up.   She was too famished at this point to care and so what if others watched?  Vicky bent over and lapped at the soda in the bowl.   Her face would be a mess when she was done eating.  She hoped Lord Malcom had brought her a napkin.  She carefully picked the ham roll out of the bowl with her teeth and ate.  Nothing had ever tasted so good nor been so completely arousing to eat.

            The sounds of others being spanked and whipped and teased reached her.  The room was becoming more and more alive with these sounds.  This is what it was all about really. Grown-ups playing with the same glee they had done when children only now it was all so much more, well, grown-up.  Vicky licked the bowl clean and sat back on her heels.  Lord Malcom let out a roar of laughter, shook his head and wiped her face off with a soft, cloth napkin.

            He looked at his watch and sat back in thought, looking at her.  That she really did hate but she didn’t move, didn’t try to hide herself in anyway.  “Come, crawl along behind me.”  He was stood and headed to one of the private play rooms set aside.  She caught a glimpse of the paper tacked to the door.  It said, “The Kennel.”

She paused at the door and felt the leash go taut again.  Lord Malcom stopped and looked down at her, judging her reaction.   Her eyes widened at the row of large animal kennels that lined the walls.  Three of the five were occupied by naked submissives.  The room was stark and bare for the most part with newspapers covering the carpeting.  “Coming?” He asked.

            Vicky took a breath and nodded.  The leashed was snapped sharply.  She remembered, “Yes, Sir.”

            “Good girl,” he said.

  Less people were in here. This would be okay.  She moved forward on her hands and knees as he led her to one of the cages.  The bottoms were lined with papers as well.  Vicky crawled in and turned around, careful not to look up at him as he unhooked the leash and closed the kennel door.  The attendant handed him a padlock which was snapped into place.

7.

 “Her Master will be coming back for her soon.”  He tossed the key lightly in the palm of his hand and walked away without so much as a good-bye.  Vicky felt miserable.  Didn’t she please him at all?  He couldn’t even tell her good-bye or that he had enjoyed her or anything?  Just locked away and left, how humiliating.   She knelt back on her heels again and looked around the room more slowly. 

Two of the others were lying on their sides, apparently sleeping.  The third was sitting with his legs crossed, looking back at her.  She’d seen him before.  His name was Mike.  He gave her a warm smile but didn’t say anything.  Vicky wondered what he had done to be put in here or maybe he just liked it.  She didn’t like it.  Did she?  The attendant brought over a metal bowl, just like the one Vicky had drank her ginger ale from earlier, and slid it through the slot at the front of the cage.  There was water in it this time.  She didn’t want it.  She wanted out and she wanted out now!  Vicky looked at the bowl then picked it up and shoved it back out the slot.  A pool of wetness spread over the newspapers on the floor.  Without a word the attendant picked up the discarded bowl, set it aside and walked out of the room.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”  Mike said softly.

She scowled, “Don’t care.  I want out of this thing.”

“Can’t get out.  That’s part of the fun of being caged.”

“I don’t like cages and I don’t like being left here without even a civil goodbye.”

Mike’s eyebrows raised, “Oh, so that’s what it is.”

“What?”

“Lord Malcom just walked away and you’re insulted.”

She shrugged, felt her cheeks brighten.  “So.”

He rolled his eyes at her, “You’re not being a very good sub if that’s all it takes to insult you.  It’s a game, Vic.  That’s all it is.  Play along. Its fun.”  To prove his point he picked up the dog toy in his cage with his teeth and tossed his head back, throwing it. It fell out and he began barking at it.  He looked at her, a sparkle in his eyes.  “C’mon, give us a bark.”

She sighed and said dully, “Bark, bark”

The door opened and in walked her Master with Lord Malcom.  Neither one of them looked very pleased.

Her Master squatted down in front of her cage and whispered to her, “You want another hour added with him?”

“No, Sir,” she whispered, ashamed.

“Then don’t behave badly.  You only have fifteen more minutes.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Vicky could not bear to look at him. 

Her Master rose up and turned to Lord Malcom who stood by the door, hands on his hips, waiting.  “She’s ready.”  She felt the urge to look up but pulled her eyes back down again.  Only fifteen more minutes left, that’s all.  She could do it.

8.

The cage was unlocked and she crawled out.  With her leash in hand, Lord Malcom led her from the room, her Master at her heels.  How many other dramas like this unfolded around her?   She was told to stand up and when she did her wrists were hooked to a set of chains that hung down from one of the support beams over head.  She had a full view of  the now darkened valley below them.  Her back was to the room but she faced the sliding glass door lined balconies. Balconies where others could stand and see her and many did.   Her Master hooked her feet into the spreader bar, kissed her cheek and whispered, “Ten minutes.”  She gave him a faint little nod and tried not to think about anything.  She was blindfolded and gagged.  “He’s going to flog you now.”  A piece of fabric was put into her hand.  She knew what it was, her red flag should she need it.

Her fingers clutched around the fabric.  Her body braced.  She’d watched Lord Malcom flog others before and although it was something she normally enjoyed with her Master, when Lord Malcom did it it took on a brutality she’d never seen in others.  He was, by all accounts, the most sadistic one here tonight.

CRACK!  Her ass was struck with the strips of leather.  Vicky whimpered through the ball gag.

CRACK! She jumped and felt herself swing a little.

                CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!  She jumped each and every time.  The pain burned through her in slow waves, growing in intensity as he continued.  For the next ten minutes, he went on and on, faster and harder than Vicky had ever endured before.  The flag in her hand was crushed.  She’s not let go of it.  She’d not give him that satisfaction.

This was for her Master, not Lord Malcom.

            Then it stopped and Vicky breathed.  She sagged from the wrist cuffs and leaned hard against her Master when he came around to hold her up as the cuffs and spreader were removed.  The ball gag was slipped out, the blindfold removed.  She didn’t open her eyes.  She merely collapsed, safe and content and happy in her Master’s arms.

            He half carried her over to one of the sofas and cradled her there.  She purred, smiling.  “Did I make you proud of me, up there, Sir?”  She whispered.

            “Very proud.”  He stroked her hair.

            The rest of the evening the play party went on without them.  They were there, but Vicky and her Master sat quietly together, talking and watching others.  Lord Malcom had gone off with some one else to a private playroom and was not seen the rest of the night.  When midnight grew close, Vicky’s Master nudged her awake and together they climbed the stairs to their room.  Both were exhausted from the long, hard day and night of play.

            They snuggled down into bed after Vicky had removed her harness.  Her Master pulled her close, kissing her forehead tenderly.  “I have one more thing I want you to do for me, love.”

            “Anything.”

            “At tomorrow’s hunt, don’t give him a hard time if he should catch you.”

            Her eyes shot open, “Tomorrow?!”

            He winked at her.