The Dice

Living on insects.

All the usual disclaimers. Over 18s only. This is imagination, not based on reality.

The Dice.

3.

The white van pulled up at the front entrance to John’s large mansion, the gravel beneath its tyres crackling and its exhaust leaving a smoky trail in the cool morning air. The three of the stood to meet it.

The driver got out and walked briskly to the rear of the vehicle, barely acknowledging the three clients due to his professional manner. He was quickly inside and then the gate-lift rose and he wheeled a plain white coffin onto the lift. Within a few moments, the coffin was at their feet and the driver was holding a receipt for John to sign.

“Thank you, my man,” John said as the driver turned away with a simple, “Have a nice day.”

       They watched the vehicle reach the inner wall, and the automatic gate opened to allow it out onto the estate’s long exit road. Then they turned to the coffin.

       Richard, the handler, the negotiator, the assassin too, moved towards the plain wooden box and bent over it. He took a small jemmy from his inner coat pocket, a heavy coat; it was a cool winter morning. The coffin wood crunched as he cracked the lid away. He tossed the lid to the ground beside the coffin and reached within to pull the unconscious girl from within. Easily, he hefted the naked, dead weight of her over his shoulder and then carried her to the others. He then lowered her to the ground again, holding her in a standing position, with one hand tightly gripping the back of her neck, in front of them for their inspection.

       The woman was holding a small digital video camera in one hand, and now she focussed it on their captive.

       She was quite short and her skin was deeply tanned. Standing, she reached only to the armpit of the man behind her, and this helped him control her so easily. Her face was oriental, and she was extremely beautiful in that exotic way. Her eyes, a bright hazel, were framed by large lashes and peaked upwards at the corners in the eastern shape. Her breasts were pert and rather small, and her frame was thin to the point of starvation; but her sexy curves were brought out by this rather than weakened.

       “That’s a strong sedative they must have used,” John said, smiling.

       “Yeah,” Richard replied as he started slapping her face and tits with his free hand.

       On the ground around them they had placed the tools they were going to use, knowing that the house security system would be recording events for them, and enjoying the frosty chill of the morning. The girl was already beginning to shiver as Richard succeeded in beating her awake.

       Now he gripped both her wrists behind her and half-dragged her to a small pile of chain on the gravel parkway near them. She mewled slightly as she came awake, her eyes opening but still obviously groggy from whatever drug the collectors had used. She started to struggle as Richard stopped them and bent to pick up the chains. He laughed as she fought against him, trying to free her wrists from his one-handed grip, but the difference in their strength was apparent and it was only a moment before he had the chains on her, she defying him only with her short animal-like shouts of fear and desperation.

       There were five manacles which linked her neck, wrists and ankles by an uncomfortably short chain behind her. The effect of this was that when he released her and she made to run away, the best that she could manage was a kind of strange waddle, her steps tiny due to the ankle chain, her wrists trapped at the small of her back, and the neck to ankle chain forcing her into a deep crouch. The metal was heavy too, dragging her down and the ankle chain leaving a trail in the thin gravel of the parking area.

       Nevertheless, she intended to escape, and headed towards the gate in the inner wall which separated the interior estate from the extensive land without. It was closed of course, could only be opened by John or the automatic settings for familiar vehicles, and thus, when she finally attained it after a couple of minutes of frenzied waddling, with the three captors merely standing idle and laughing, she was unable to go through to safety.

       They slowly closed in on her as she along the wall away from them. It was twenty feet high and topped with evil steel spines, so along it was the only way. She trundled along, the cruel chains rattling, but her determination still strong despite the aching of exhaustion which was beginning to slow her further. She grunted and growled as she raced across the rough gravel, not even feeling the pain in her naked feet as the sharper stones bit her. But then Richard was in front of her, holding something like a large transparent rubber bag. She turned, but John was to her right, and now the woman was closing in behind her, camera trained on her frightened eyes.

       She howled her desperation again, and turned around again inside the smaller circle they were making.

       “Fuck you, fuck you,” her noises finally became words as Richard grabbed her from behind by the collar chain. She fought him with her chained limbs, trying to bite as he clamped his hand thought the steel on the collar and pushed her head to the rough ground. She screamed when he brandished an electric shears and proceeded to shave her long dark hair away. She screamed and screamed but they showed no concern, the woman crouching close in to get her expression with the camera, and the naked terror in her eyes.

       Soon her hair was gone, just an odd patch of stubble here and there. Richard pulled her back to her feet, small stones sticking to her dark skin. Now came the rubber hood.

She struggled against him, kicked and bucked, but he forced the rubber over her head. It was tight and she panicked, screeching and crying out, but soon her cries were muted by the clinging rubber snapping around her throat. It inflated slightly as she exhaled a silent scream, but otherwise was glued tightly to her head.

He released her again, and she began a crazed scramble to be free, fell to the rough gravel. She struggled up into her painful crouch and span around again, the hood bulging slightly around her mouth. Finally she realised there was the tiniest hole in front of her face, small enough to let only a narrow stream of air in or out. She could breathe, but she had to do it slowly.

The three watched in fascination as she stopped, stiffened and remained still, concentrating only on getting the sips of air through the tiny hole. Now, Richard controlled her easily, pulling her back to the arranged toys on the ground directly in front of the house. He pulled her with one finger through the collar, and she came obediently, trying to walk slowly, knowing already that exertion required too much air.

She began to feel faint, the distorted world finally in focus through the tough rubber beginning to fade again as she came close to passing out. He stopped her, and she fought the terror of suffocation in her mind as she concentrated on the urge to faint and on trying to feed her thumping lungs. The hood bulged rhythmically as she stood perfectly still in the awkward stance.

“It’s an excellent method of control,” The woman said. The girl heard her words faintly, and the meaning was obscured by the thick rubber around her ears.

“Fantastic,” John said. He lifted a hole-punching tool from the tool bag and handed to Richard. The girl, her head trapped in its opaque prison, saw what they were doing and shook her terror, but the restriction on her breathing, and the limited energy kept her still and in place as Richard grabbed her right nipple, large and brown, and pulled it away from her breast. She shivered her inability to resist them as he closed the tool over her nipple and punched a one-inch steel collar though the nipple.

She screamed in her plastic prison, but the only effect was a comical bulging of the rubber encasing her shaven skull. Her air made a hissing sound as it streamed out, and then the hood snapped back, outlining her beauty with its second, almost-transparent skin. They saw the panic flash in her eyes again as the little hole again whistled, this time with the ever so slow inward flow.

Black stars began to flash in her eyes and she knew she was passing out. Her limbs became rigid for a second before becoming limp and useless and collapsing her to the rough ground, her chains rattling upon her soft, shivering skin.

“Will she die?” The woman asked.

“Not likely,” Richard said, reaching down to pierce the left nipple also, “she’s still breathing on auto.”

He roughly slapped her thighs apart and reached into her tight, closed cleft, pinching her clitoris between thumb and forefinger. This brought her awake again, but the only indication was a change in the tone of her desperate breathing. He smiled inwardly as he punched a cruel steel grommet through her soft, young clitoris.

Again the tone of her breathing changed, and the hood bulged again. John laughed. She was soon back in the darkness.

When she finally awoke, it was at the insistence of a strong stimulant oil that John dripped from its small bottle into her breathing hole. The hood rapidly filled with the sharp fumes, and of course, from here her lungs were filled. She awakened with a start.

John was holding the steel collar in one hand, sitting in a crouch beside her prone, shaking, but sexy little body. He felt hardness rise in his pants, knew it was sight of her complete vulnerability to him. He gently tugged the chains which now connected her sore, bleeding nipples to her sore, bleeding clit. This small movement brought her quickly to full consciousness.

“Cold this morning, my little one,” he said. She was in a fog of terror and pain and unable to reply.

“I been thinking about animals,” he continued, “and it turns out that you are to become an animal. Don’t even grace the thought that you have any choice any more. If you comply it will hurt, if you don’t comply I’ll kill you slowly.”

He tugged the chain again, and the sharp pains jolted her to understanding. Her legs were folded beneath, her fingers able to touch the tight steel manacles on her ankles, but of course she could not dream of opening them.

“This hood is staying on, s you’re going to need some training on how to survive it for the time I have in mind.” He showed her a small taser with a long narrow tip, he pushed it into her face and then pulled it back to show her the blue spark as he pressed the trigger.

“Crawl on your and knees, quickly.” He gestured behind her, where the curve of the house’s wall led to a large green area of grass. She trembled, trying to rise, her mind thinking only the two thoughts, to follow his command and avoid the pain, and the ever-present concentration needed to control her breathing. The hood began to bulge slightly as she forced her tired limbs into a kneeling posture.

“Move!” He screamed suddenly, and the very force of his command jolted her body and brought the hyperventilation of panic again. She actually managed to move a few feet towards the end of the painful gravel before the lack of air knocked her unconscious again.

The three of them gathered around her to watch as he pushed the tip of the weapon between her buttocks and fired it. She leapt back into a crouch at the searing pain of the tool, her anus seared by the high powered taser. The pain clipped her mind into the correct frame and she realised that obedience was her only option. She shuffled forward in an awkward shimmy, scraping the skin from her knees on the rough stone, the weight and difficulty of the short chains forcing her to move like some strange primitive human. Her rubber head was forced low to the ground and her buttocks pushed up. They trembled as she shuffled along.

The hood was bulging quickly now as she learned the most efficient way to breathe. But still, she couldn’t move any faster than a slow walking pace. Any faster and her obscured vision began to close into a tunnel of darkness and oblivion.

He led her along the gravel, pushing her speed with the threatening tip of the tool in her pussy or ass. He made her move as fast as she was able, amused that she would stop and go limp for a second every other step as she passed out from lack of air. A poke with the taser’s unfiring tip was enough to wake her from these flashes and get her moving again. The hood was bulging quickly now, the air a high-pitched whistle as it filtered in and out.

The group moved together, the woman still filming, and Richard following at the back with a canvas bag of tools.

Eventually they stopped at the foot of slight hill. The girl was sweating profusely and her skin was a bright crimson from the exertion. Her taut hard breasts were slicked with sweat and heaving with her agonising breaths. He pulled her head up by the collar and looked into the rubber hell. She was coherent, he saw, but her face was a tinge of purple from lack of air. Her lips whitened sharply as she inhaled, the tiny hole whistling. He put his fingertip over it.

There was a thin pool of sweat which had collected at the bottom of the hood where it was clipped to the steel collar. He pulled her head forward so the sweat pooled in front of her face. More sweat was still dripping from her face, if he kept her like this she would drown. But of course, she would suffocate long before. In fact her air had already run out, and she was splashing the sweat back onto her face as the bubble of plastic tightened finally over her head.

“Drink it and then I’ll let you breathe.” She immediately began to suck the sweat from the slick plastic, swallowing quickly. He was pleased by the utter and unresisting obedience the hood created. This action caused her to fall into unconsciousness yet again, slipping forward until he halted her with her collar. He slapped her and she awoke, set again about the task. Her face was a bright purple now, and he could see death in her suffocating eyes.

When she was finished he took his finger away and the rhythm of her hurried breath began again. She was on the edge of panic for long moments, completely unable to move. Such control amused him and he felt the stiffness of his masculinity. The others arrived.

“In order to survive, all animals need to eat. As you can imagine, it will be rather difficult with your new head. Now, for training, you will move about this field finding insects, you will collect them by sucking them inside your hood and then you will return to me. Worms, beetles, any thing you can find is acceptable.

When you return, I will give you twenty jolts with this taser, for every critter you have in your hood when you return, I will give you one fewer. Be quick now girl.”

The automatic obedience that came with the constant war for enough breath spurred the girl into an immediate lurching crawl away from the group of them, further onto the expanse of grass. Her speed caused a collapse, and when she jerked awake again, her limbs stiffening and bringing laughs from all three of them, she seemed to calm down and begin to understand the sick task he had commanded her.

They watched as she dipped her head to the grass, pushing her pussy hard into the ground between her splayed legs in order to do so without falling over and examining it closely, her back a delicious curve in her tormented posture.

Her vision was obscured by the thick material, and it took her long moments to find a black beetle, crawling its way along a long grass stem.

For a moment, her conscious mind broke through the constant focus on breathing and she felt her guts tumble in revulsion for what she was about to do. But it seemed that even thinking freely used more of her precious and ever diminishing energy, so she bent forward to crush the insect against the rubber near her mouth.

The little hole was directly in front of her mouth, so she realised that she could suck small objects in. Suddenly, with an in breath, the beetle was in her mouth and she had to concentrate to stop herself from vomiting. The mere thought of this pulled the shade of panic down over her again, and with the insect still in her mouth, trapped by her closed lips, she grimly fought the revulsion and the pain in her roiling guts.

They saw her remain perfectly still for a moment, and then the hood bulged as she spat the insect into the interior. They didn’t follow her as she began to wander off.

The beetle was plastered on her cheek, as small bump in the rubber when she was breathing in, slipping slightly on each long, difficult out breath. She was shuffling forward on her knees with her face pressed closely to the ground, looking for the next ground animal.

Revulsion was a constant throb in her belly, panic overlaying it with each fevered respiration, and now, as she moved forward robotically, came a conscious memory of her terrifying situation. Maybe she was lucky that the extreme nature of it prevented any more thought along those lines, because she had to think to breathe, and move, and do as she was told. A small ladybird was next, but when she spat it out it flew crazily inside her hood, looking for an exit, bumping her face until the tight clasping of the inhalation crushed it, killed it and opened it against her lower eyelid, broken pieces eventually sticking to the moisture there to irritate her.

The robot inside, built on the complete terror of the electric agony he had given her, kept tight control of her as she crawled about in her heavy chains.

They bored after a while and he called her back. She snapped to attention at the sound of his voice and came shuffling towards him, passing out only once on the way and not even falling completely prone before the terror pulled her back to consciousness, missing only a step, like a sleepwalker jolting awake.

“Good little toy,” he said as she stopped before him in an uncomfortable kneel due to the constricting chains. He didn’t wait for her breathing to return to normal before asking her how many insects there were.

It now became apparent, to the amusement of all three of them, how difficult speaking was for her.

“I,” she could only utter the word in a gasp with her out breath, and it came out tonelessly, almost silent through the rubber, “don’t,” she managed again after a pause, “know.” They could see her dejection in the hang of her chains as she delivered the final word. Her hood bulged quickly, a sign of the effort speaking had been, and they saw the jumble of insects and broken insects stuck to her face and piled, crushed and oozing, around her chin.

He turned to the other two, a child-like delight on his face.

“It’s the perfect robot,” he said, unless commanded, it can’t afford enough brainpower to such an obvious task as counting. The restriction of breathing is the perfect method to instil docility and obedience.”

He turned back to his hunched, trembling little toy and smiled again.

“I kind of hope you may win my little game and then we can make this a more permanent fear for you.” He had intended to lie the dream of freedom to this one, but now he preferred to hammer in its fate…if it even understood anything that wasn’t a command.

“Count them, you pathetic little cunt,” he shouted, happy at the jolt of fear and the tune of the rattling chains this brought.

His animal was funny in its confusion, and he relished the moments as it knelt there unmoving, its entire world inside its head as it went over and over the problem.

She managed to slightly forget the concentration breathing required, pushing it to the back to allow room for more creative thoughts. She couldn’t remember how many insects she had collected – sucked in her mouth and spat into the rubber prison – she hadn’t counted them, could remember little due to the daze she’d been in from the exertion of it all.

She didn’t know how many, and she couldn’t count them. She could feel them, but not in a distinct enough way, except for the white larvae thing which had crushed on her lips, and now its thick mess had glued them together at the corner, and the spider, still alive in her ear, and the main cause of her constant twitches.

I’m in hell, was her only distinct and meaningful thought as her mind crashed against the problem again, much like a computer trapped in a feedback loop.

“Spit them out into a little pile and count them as you suck them back up,” he commanded, and then sat down on the soft grass a couple of metres in front of the trembling girl. Richard joined him, but the woman moved closer instead, intent on her movie.

The girl shook her head repeatedly with her face downwards, sucking in each insect and then spitting back out through the tight little hole onto the grass before her. After three, she paused, and they saw her body tense. Her breathing began to increase, and a groan of panic as the pressure of the rubber became too much. Each gasp increased her inward breath, and they saw that she was on a downward spiral into the panic. Her face was turning a livid blue, and her chest was heaving.

“Ten says this is the end,” the woman said, looking up from the view screen for an unusual moment.

They watched intently as the girl keeled over on her side, her body turning blue now, and the groans softening. But her breathing had increased tenfold, the hood flapping in and out with each sharp shallow breath. She lay there for a few minutes, the breathing eventually retuning to the normal beat. They waited it out, and John felt himself satisfied that she hadn’t died. He felt the hope of her success again, as she regained her knees and the next insect hit the small pile.

After a good ten minutes, she knelt up again gathered herself to speak.

“There…are…twelve… insects…Master.” She fell into a near collapse at the effort of that, and he laughed as he stood up again.

“Okay, these are your food. You can eat them whenever you wish. This hood is permanent and unbreakable. It is assumed that you will be able to suck up ground water, and there’s a lot of liquid in slugs and worms which are prevalent in your new habitat.”

She felt her soul begin to buckle under the terror his words induced in her. He saw this in the tremble and hang of her chains, the slump under the weight of fear setting them a dance and glinting in the late morning sunlight.

“Turn,” he guided her roughly with her collar, pointed her towards the slope. Then he reached under her body and clipped her nipple chains to her ankle chains with a padlock, restricting her to a tight kneeling position, with pierced nipples  pushed against creamy thighs, and making her unable to gain her feet at all. The padlock was large, steel and heavy, and added to the weight of her bondage on her weak body and besieged mind.

“Move,” he commanded, jamming the tip of the taser into her pussy and firing it for the first of the eight jolts he owed her. And this was the way they made progress up the gentle slope leading away from the big house.

The third time he jolted – pushing the tool painfully into the small of her back between her clasped wrists, and forcing her to fall on her face again - the pain as he fired made her vomit, and the foul yellow mess filled the hood, blocked the breathing hole and started her on the road to death.

Again they simply watched, waiting to see if she would die, but she managed to blow the sick mess out of the hole, and by eating it again and spitting it out, she managed to eventually get her breathing back to normal and resume her horrible shuffle on bruised and bleeding knees.

He gave her another shock almost immediately, and laughed at the horrific howl of agony and despair she wailed behind her rubber hood. The slope was a soft one, but it hid a small cluster of old buildings and a shallow quarry in the low area beyond. He drove her towards this with another jolt from the evil taser, and she moved willingly, her only coherent thought that he didn’t need to shock her any more. He could just command. And then back to the panic, and the terror of dying in this rubber.

The exposed rock bit into her knees, and she two trails across the dusty granite as they led her across it to the centre of the cluster of buildings. She could see through the sweat clouded latex that it was a mine, or at least it looked lie one, decrepit and old, crumbling. Then she noticed the glint of something new. A small steel trap door set into the rock.

He halted her in front of it, her crying a muffled sound.

“Now, you will be placed inside the small tunnel beyond. My friend here will then weld the door closed.”

This information stunned her into complete stillness, save the gentle tune of the chains, advertising her terror. He gripped the top of her smooth head, rolled it with his hand as he spoke to her. Richard and the woman clustered around her.

“It’s a very large mine system, and I’m pretty sure it connects with an underground cave network. There are exits inside my estate, and I’m pretty certain exits outside my walls also. Should you find a way out, I guess we will have to give you freedom. Otherwise, you’d better concentrate on finding food in there.

She saw Richard begin drilling a hole in the steel of the door, not caring that the sparks flew her way, she watched them settle in the twin trails of blood she had left. Then he went into one of the sheds and dragged a very large roll of wire on a mounted wheel in front of the steel trap door.

“In six months I will roll my die. If your number comes up, we will winch on this wire and pull whatever is left of you out. Maybe by then you’ve got to the sewers in the city, got out and cut the wire, or maybe found an underground stream to the coast; or on the other hand you’ve been eaten by one of the many predators I’ve locked inside over the years, or got trapped in a narrow crevice and starved to death, or suffocated on a particularly fat slug which blocks your little hole. It’s all so exciting isn’t it?”

Terror overwhelmed her. Richard gripped her quivering nipple chains and used them to pull her to her feet. Her scream just added to the vast lake of torment simmering in her mind, body and soul. He hefted her and flopped her body over his shoulder again. Then, he opened the steel door, looking in on the small tunnel through just a crack. It screeched as he pulled it wide and tossed the limp girl inside. She got a glimpse of darkness and a vast wall of cobwebs inside as she fell and her chains rattled on the hard rock of the small, claustrophobic space. The webs wrapped around her and she felt the skittering legs of the spiders across her body. Webs clogged across the breathing hole, and the icy stab of panic thrust into her again. She had to struggle over into a crouch in order to rub the spittle-wetted slime of the web against her calf, desperately clearing her precious breathing hole.

She lay in abject terror for a moment on the cold stone, her breathing shallow and her thoughts made of despair. She felt her clitoris chain lifted, and when it was dropped there was a new weight on it, the steel tether. The tunnel was black for dark, and now a cool, fetid breeze wafted out.

Richard grunted and slammed the door shut. The clang echoed in her ears, then in her mind, and she lay there, still as a doomed rabbit in the utter blackness of this cold, dark hell.

She heard the rush as the welder heated up. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even tremble in this deathly cold. Broken images of the mentioned predators shimmered across her paralysed mind, but snakes, or rats, or what? There was a pencil of light where her tether went outside, and this gave just the barest of glow in the closeness of the door.

A heavy clang came once on the door, almost invisible in the near-complete darkness, and she knew then that they were leaving.

Still unable to move, terrified of any journey she must make to find some way of surviving, she remained there in the cold darkness until at last a tremble came upon her, and this showed that she was yet, still alive.

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http://brightsidesun.blogspot.com/    Best Wishes. Anyone want part 4?