All the characters in this story are over 18. Dedicated to my darling Pixie.
The Hunt – Chapter 7
Bridesmaid Visit
“Alice!” Little Slut called as she walked along the hedge. Yet, it seemed useless.
Even the attics had been unlocked and explored, as well as all their contents searched. Things were so desperate that the authorities had been called, disregarding the scandal that would inevitably ensue.
Little Slut’s arrival drew little attention; the family had allowed her into the house but had taken no further notice.
Little Slut wandered the grounds; she was informed that Alice had been celebrating her impending wedding when she had disappeared. No one had seen her go; she took nothing with her, not even a parasol. Little Slut, an analytical little creature, was certain that one needed to start the search where Alice had last been seen.
Little Slut had gone to the spot; she found the small hedge gate.
‘Strange, why had no one mentioned this?’ She could not see the end of the hedge tunnel as it curved out of sight. ‘Alice must have gone in here.’
The gate opened silently; it was small, hardly large enough for Alice, so Little Slut guessed. As herself being tiny, the gate was undoubtedly adequate; and it was at least a fresh trail to follow.
With one last look back at the frantic searchers, she stepped through the gate and into the gloomy tunnel beyond.
She carefully searched for any sign that Alice had also passed the gate, she found none, but all the same, somehow knew Alice had indeed gone that way.
So focused, she did not notice the gate quietly closing until it securely locked behind her. Only then did she discover that there was no latch on the inside, nor could even her small hand pass between the bars. So, with the gate closed and locked, the only option was to press on through the tunnel.
“Alice!” Little Slut called as she ventured deeper into the passage; she thought it strange that the hedge had not seemed so thick, but Little Slut realized she could no longer hear the frantic search beyond in the garden only a few steps behind her.
At first, sunlight filtered through the leaves and branches of the hedge, but with each step, the light diminished finally to total darkness.
“Alice!!” Little Slut could almost feel the sound of her voice being swallowed up by the thick foliage about her, but she continued her trek. After all, there was no point in going back, the gate was locked, and besides, there were plenty of searchers there, and she knew she must find Alice.
She could no longer see the gate behind, and her eyes could see only vague shapes; she felt panic rising but pushed it down.
“Silly cow, just a few steps more.” She reassured herself, and with those same steps, she could finally see a distant light. It was all she could do to control her desire to run to the spec of light and escape from this green prison.
As she had followed the tunnel, its walls had become narrower, and the ceiling lower and lower; finally, she had been forced to crawl on her belly, pulling the bodice tightly as she went. The position put unbearable pressure on her nipples and rent her dress. Finally, her progress was blocked by a small gate she could barely squeeze through, rendering her dress further as if in some final insult as she passed out into the forest beyond.
The gate opened onto a path through an ancient forest, not a bucolic walk on manicured lawns or even park woods that Little Slut might have expected. Instead, the space past the gate was a rough and tangled trail through a wildwood. It was filled with trees towering high above, with shorter trees fighting for light, and below that tall, dark-leaved bushes, with the ground covered by a mad assortment of plants, from flowers to vines all growing higgledy-piggledy in every direction, except for the path just beyond the gate. At the entrance, the trail started running to the left along the hedge, then dropping down into the shadows of the forest. It appeared that a path once ran to the right but was now wholly impassable, overgrown, and choked with undergrowth sporting long sharp black barbs glistening with dew in the sparse light.
“Can anyone hear me?” Little Slut shouted back across the hedge.
‘Surely, this hedge is not so thick that they cannot hear!’ Şişli travesti She was confident that they must hear her shouts, but there was no reply. Indeed, she could not discern the sounds of anyone on the other side, not human or even the search dogs which the authorities had brought.
That revelation frightened the Little Slut, so she decided to return and bring help, but when she looked for the little gate, it was gone! She had not moved an inch, the marks in the soil from her crawling were there, but the gate she had come from was gone! It was as if it had never existed. She felt panic building, then regained her composure; she had her purpose — a compulsion to find Alice.
‘Well, I am left with only the path then, I suppose.’ But, after all, she was of a practical sort and turned to follow the path walking down the gently descending slope.
“Alice!” She called out with every seventh step.
She held close to the remnants of her tattered clothing. Her torn dress was once a light linen frock, delicate and sweet, woven with flowers, fine green water lilies, and flag irises worked throughout the bodice. In truth, it was too young for her age; it made her look as if she were a child; Mistress had thought it naughty. Moreover, it did not feel all that comfortable as Mistress had insisted a strip of white woolen fabric be sewn inside the bodice, one that rode exactly where poor Little Sluts tender breasts. Breasts that were small nearly nonexistent true, but what her breasts lacked in size they more than made up for in sensitivity, and Mistress had chosen to place the fabric to remind her Little Slut of her place and who owned her. The thin linen fabric, and the delicate nature of the wool and its associated irritation, had a perverse impact on poor Little Sluts sensitive nipples. It had led to several embarrassing glares, an occasional pointed look, and at least one rather uncomfortably intense knowing stare from a man who appreciated what he thought was a very youthful girl.
In truth was poor Little Slut was in agony; her waist was circled by a tightly fitting silver decorated chastity belt secured by several small silver locks which held the belt in place. She could relieve herself, but that was all; the cage that covered her made access to her intimates impossible. The tortured kitty made itself known through copious amounts of drool, forcing Little Slut to renew her intimate wear several times and thus exhausting her supply. She would have stayed in her rooms until that supply was freshly laundered; however, she had a mission to perform and no time to waste, now she was forced to do without.
“Alice!” Little Slut’s voice carried as far as the next tree before being swallowed up; it would mean punishment and torture if she failed. Mistress had threatened to sell her to some beastly man if she was unsuccessful; Little Slut did not doubt that Mistress could and would.
Little Slut shivered, recalled the last conversation she had witnessed regarding her mission; she was made to stand still naked save her belt and woolen band.
“Mistress, I am worried.” Ilsa had begun, “Little Slut is not fully….” The sentence was not finished when the slap came.
“We have no other choice Ilsa, this little bitch is the best chance we have of retrieving Alice!” Mistress had been going through Little Slut’s clothing, tossing things she did not like, setting those she did aside; none of it included Little Sluts favorite things. Then, handing the two dresses to Cunt, she whispered in the girl’s ear, who blushed then curtsied and rushed out of the room, her breasts and bottom bouncing with each step.
“Well, you have two dresses. It will be enough if you are gone more than a day or two; it will not matter. Find Alice and bring her back, she must wed, or we are ruined. Is that clear, Little Slut?” Mistress asked; Little Slut nodded yes; she then was bundled off to the train station to make her way as quickly as possible to the country home where Alice had gone missing.
Poor Little Slut was making her way along the path she hoped would lead to her friend. She tried to focus on her search, but her nipples hurt. They rubbed on the scratchy strip of fabric; her poor areolas had been engorged for ages, nipples irritated beyond all tolerance, scratched to the point of being raw, yet she must endure.
Now Şişli travestileri she found herself walking down the ever-steepening path; she could hear a waterfall to her left; the forest seemed to become more foreboding and formidable with every step.
The shattered remnants of her clothing suffered the same fate as Alice’s had; the thorns and vines seemed to tear at it. As she went forward, it became as if the plants were reaching out to grasp and rend it. However, even as poor Alice had learned, there was no way back. Poor Little Slut found the forest now seemed to close in behind her. At first, the return path was clear easy to see, then with every step, it became more obscured, finally becoming difficult to see where she had been. Finally, it was impossible with each twist and turn of the path; now, even the forest closed in to form a solid wall of foliage just a dozen paces behind. Worse, the woods behind her had a menacing look, whereas forward, it seemed light and friendly, driving her ever onward. However, for all its pleasant appearance, always with each forward step, the forest seemed to reach outward and snag her clothing, at first it was a nuisance, then an annoyance than a bother till it was a menace, tearing and ripping the linen frock to shreds then ribbons torn free reducing her to wearing rags and even fewer of those.
“Alice! Please, Alice! Help me!” Little Slut was near desperation as she tried to pull the last of the tissue of fabric she had once worn free from the unyielding grasp of some thorn bush, now at the very edge of a meadow, she had traveled down a rather steep grade, almost falling several times. The poor thing was essentially nude now, save for the humiliating belt of soft leather and polished silver that hid her womanly charms, such as they were. The only saving grace was that the horrid strip of tormenting wool had been lost some time ago.
Instead, she was bare to the world and to the touch of the constantly caressing plants and leaves that seemed to discover her minuscule breasts. These thorns scratched her delicate flesh with the tormenting touch of a woman’s razor-sharp nails. They cut across her skin with just enough pressure to make their menacing presence known.
Anyone who had known her before would have been shocked to see her. The tiny frame was covered in a maze of marks from snapping branches, highlighted with the love trails of thousands of fine thorns, each leaving a single line to mark their passing. More tantalizing was the plants showing particular attention, almost lovingly caressing her inner thighs, mound, and breasts. As a result of that insistent attention, her cunny was now flowing freely, even more than it had in Mistress’s rooms; her inner thighs were rivers of the juices those delicate touches and scraps had brought forth. The air about her swam with the pungent aroma of her arousal, the entire forest knew it, and that knowledge did not go unheeded.
Little Slut had taken a great deal of abuse in school about her miniature breasts; some said that they were to the other girls as foothills to the Alps. The differences between them helped to inspire her love of Alice. Where Little Slut was tiny with what some might describe as an underdeveloped body, Alice was comparatively tall and full-breasted, large and round and topped by scarlet nipples over deeply brown islands floating on milk-white flesh, a dramatically narrow waist, and generous womanly hips.
Little Slut had kept the dirty secret that she reveled in the abuse. But, for some twisted reason, their words meant to inflict pain did the exact opposite; it brought forth the most profound form of sexual pleasure. A pleasure that others would wonder about but anyone with perception would have recognized. The lovely sweet and nasty truth was that their words confirmed that they were looking at Little Slut, thinking about her breasts, comparing her nipples and breasts to theirs, and although hers were not as large, theirs were more common, hers were not. All women who were thinking of her, for every girl assessing their gifts, dozens were thinking of hers. The knowledge that others compared themselves with her, dozens and dozens of breasts, scores of kitty’s, and bummies were measured against her charms? It was her breasts, her bum, her kitty that commanded the spotlight the center stage, and Travesti şişli that thrilled her to the core and drove her to many a sweating, hard-fought-for, weak-kneed climaxes.
Still, with all of that, it hurt to be alone.
Then along came Alice. Beautiful, strong, devoted, brave, brilliant, and for all her womanly charms, it was Alice’s compassion that won Little Slut’s heart. Alice had never allowed anyone to tease Little Slut; anyone who did would find themselves cut to ribbons by Alice’s razor-sharp wit. So Little Slut was always safe with Alice, and that support had helped Little Slut feel bold and strong, especially where her friend came in, and it was that boldness that led her to Alice’s family home.
Although there had never been any ‘inappropriate’ contact between them, they had on occasion bathed together as needs must when one is adventuring in the wilds of some backward county or ill-equipped country house, or scandalously — a public inn. It was a great adventure for both women but nothing much more. But now, things were very different; Mistress had changed Little Slut; she was no longer the quiet girl who hid her desire for other women. No, Mistress had sharpened the boldness that Alice had engendered and honed it to a rapier’s point, but that point was bound with dedication and obedience to Mistress’s will. So now Little Slut had been sent on a mission to retrieve Alice and return her to Mistress for final training and her wedding.
“Alice!” Little Slut screamed as she tried in vain to cover her breasts with one arm and her caged kitty with the other. “Where are you? I know you are here!”
She walked forward on the dwindling trail, only to see a small house and gardens to one side, a lovely gazebo of white wood, worked and formed as if the little building had grown out of the ground.
As she got closer, Little Slut could identify sounds; even over the roar of the waterfall, her newfound knowledge said she heard the distinctive sounds of… of… mating.
“Oh, my darling, you are so…” the voice was familiar but still, “oh, please, please never stop!” Little Slut knew she should recognize the voice, but with the noise of the waterfall so near, it was nearly impossible to be sure.
Little Slut could see the lake extended well up toward the left, there was the sound and mist of a waterfall somewhere further up, but it was obscured by a string of trees blocking from view, the source of the sound. The lake continued from cliffs on the far left through to the lowlands on her right, disappearing far in the distance. There was no bridge or ford, and the water seemed to have reached a depth deeper than she thought normal, given the plants and grass she could see were now drowned deep below its surface.
“Ooooohhhh, my love, please have mercy, finish me!” the cry was loud enough that Little Slut knew the voice.
Little Slut was desperate to run to the voice, the voice she was sure was Alice crying out in pain or passion, she was not sure but Little Sluts quim said passion, but her conditioned mind said pain!
“ALICE!” Little Slut released a soul-rending scream while plunging headlong into the water. Her closest and dearest friend was in danger, and though deeply buried, that desire and love were not wholly destroyed by Mistress. At the cry, it burst fully back to life, burning away the intricately woven cobwebs of deceit spun by Cynthia.
The water washed over her; she found it was far deeper than she had thought. Rather than being a few inches as it appeared, she found herself deeply in over her head, fighting to return to the surface, the bottom of the clear stream many feet below her. She had never been a strong swimmer, and the belt restricted her movement. Try as she might, she could not reach air! Worse, it was as if some force held her just below the surface!
Her lungs burned, fighting to survive, the shimmering sun well above her, she fought to reach it, her hand burst through the surface she could feel the air her lungs demanded, feel salvation, touch survival, but could go no further. Then, finally, the light dimmed, the colors drained, and she sank, descended as her lungs screamed, and she knew she was dying.
‘I am sorry, Alice, I failed you.’ Her tears blended with the water around her as the darkness closed and the quiet filled the void; finally, there was a deep bump as she struck the bottom.
Warmth enveloped her, the warmth of eternity, a soft and intense sensation starting in her back surrounding her as if cradled by dozens of arms, she relaxed into their comfort and the darkness, or she would have if it were not for the glow.