Posted by Extranjero on April 16, 2007 at 13:57:15:
DOLL SOLDIERS (Part 4)
Leilani hunkered down and splashed cold water in her face. Her dark hair dripped and straggled in her eyes. She doused her breasts, still hoping she could shock herself awake. But the sultry world around her didn’t change.
She sat back on her heels and looked about her. The river was as calm as dusty glass. The banks lay cloaked in hot green gloom, shot through with spears of sunlight. The buzz and whirr of insects filled her ears.
Rachael and Maria had begun to drink like wary animals. Leilani swiped her hair out of her face and watched them numbly. Rachael knelt beside her, scooping water to her mouth, her free hand resting close beside her spear. She’d taken off her skirt and now wore nothing but her supple deerskin boots. Her honeysuckle hair curled round her shoulders. Her handsome face looked smugly satisfied.
No flicker of uncertainty. No bafflement at being in this place. Leilani almost wished she could regain that confidence, and be a slinking huntress like before. But no: her thoughts were very much an office girl’s again. She’d never been so frightened and confused.
From pinstripes and silk panties, she had somehow come to this – crouched sweating in a pair of doeskin briefs. Instead of chatting round the water cooler, she was sipping from a river like a deer. It felt like she was drinking with two panthers, who might turn their claws on her at any moment.
Maria was lying on her front, breasts dangling in the water as she drank. Her assegai was ready at her side. She was nude as well, her skin as smooth as polished rosewood. Her jewellery gleamed gold against it – necklace, bangles, rings. Leilani could imagine her sashaying through a nightclub, enticing guys with her New Zealand drawl. But she had seen Maria skewer a Redcoat. The girl’s face in that moment had been full of feral glee.
Leilani peered down at her reflection. Her large eyes were as dark and deep as wells. She had to give these girls the slip – but where could she run to? Beyond the canopy of trees, the open country stretched for trackless miles.
Rachel wiped her full-lipped mouth. Last week she had been working as a waitress. She had no recollection of it – just a feeling that her life had got more real. Yesterday she’d thrust her spear into Leighanne’s soft body, and come against the squirming little slut. The memory bloomed warmly in her belly. She hoped that she could do the same again.
“You think they’ll send more Redcoats, then?” she asked.
“I guess so,” said Maria. She sat back, her bosom dripping. “And if they’re as green as that last lot, they’ll end up the same way.” She gave Leilani a vivacious grin.
“Yeah, but what about that horrid noise?” Leilani muttered. It had terrified them all, but clearly hadn’t turned their minds around like hers.
Rachael shrugged complacently. “Just the Witches trying to keep us in our place. They were at the wood. I saw them driving round.”
“Maybe we should take them on next time,” Maria said. Her wry tone showed she wasn’t serious. None the less, the idea filled Leilani with fresh dread. She clambered to her feet and padded back towards the camp, where the other Amazons were gathering. The smoky smell of cooking meat came drifting through the trees, but she felt no hunger in her hollow stomach.
Brushing through the foliage, she heard a bulky movement up ahead. Leaves began to rustle, and a branch snapped with a crack. Leilani paused, her fine hairs prickling. Then something large surged forward and she heard a startled cry. A second heavy shape plunged through the shadows. She heard the whinny of a horse; the girl’s cry turned into a anguished wail. And suddenly the woods were full of panic. Somebody had caught them with their deerskin panties down!
The wave of noise reached Rachael and Maria. They exchanged a startled glance and scrambled up. Downstream from them, a huntress was still bathing. As she waded to the bank, a mounted figure burst out of the trees.
Laura kicked her horse into the water, her fine-boned cheeks aglow, her blue eyes flashing. The huntress squealed and tried to slosh away. She was a willow-slender girl with bobbed blonde hair and modest, perky breasts. Her feline instincts had seized up, and suddenly she was a nurse again. Terrified, she cast around - but Laura was upon her in a moment. The posh girl smiled disdainfully and slashed her blade across her victim’s throat. The huntress twisted half around, her hands clasped to her neck, a look of wide-eyed horror on her face. Squirts of blood spilled out between her fingers, and suddenly her breasts were splashed with red. Gargling, she slumped into the water. Laura watched her squirming like a fish, then spurred away.
The other Hussies pounded through the trees, their sabres swooshing. Lucy hacked at one girl’s neck and sliced her spinal cord. The blow chopped off a tuft of hair, which scattered as the victim pitched face down. Lucy hauled her mount around, her fair hair billowing. Her baby-doll good looks were flushed with glee. She’d stripped her jacket off and tied the sleeves around her waist. Her bare breasts joggled with the horse’s gait.
Fran chased another huntress down towards the riverbank. Her blue jacket flared open to reveal her sheer black briefs and see-through bra. The dark disks of her nipples bulged as she triggered her revolver. The huntress clutched her back and ploughed face first into the dirt.
Panting with excitement, Fran rode over her and splashed into the river. She pushed her kepi back to clear her fringe. Lucy was already there. A huntress turned at bay. Before the girl could aim her spear, Lucy thrust her sabre deep between her breasts. The huntress screamed discordantly, the gory blade emerging from her back. Lucy wrenched her round and dragged the sabre out again. The huntress toppled backwards like a doll.
Lucy’s breasts were flecked with blood. She looked at Fran and grinned exultantly. On the way out here they had been giggling like schoolgirls, but now they shared a childlike callousness. Beaming back, Fran thumbed her pistol’s hammer. Lucy’s gaze slipped past her. “There’s another one!” she said.
She urged her horse onto the bank and kicked it up the slope. The girl she’d glimpsed was cringing in her path. But then, as Lucy raised her sword, the huntress knelt up straight and sent an arrow punching through her chest.
Lucy felt a choking thump, then suffocating pain. She squealed and clasped her breasts in agony. Rachael glared across her bow, already reaching for another shaft. Lucy’s sweet face had turned sour; she made a mewling sound. Behind her drooping body, Fran was splashing to the rescue, her winsome features pale with shock and rage.
Maria broke the surface like a porpoise, sleek and swift. She grasped Fran’s coat and dragged her from the saddle. The Hussy gave a squeal of fright, her pistol blasting wildly. Then they struck the water in a burst of crystal spray.
Lucy’s face was blank as she slid sideways off her horse. Her arms made no attempt to break her fall. Rachael notched her arrow and moved forward to the bank, but Maria had the bluecoat bitch in hand. Fran was trying to struggle up when something punched the cushion of her breast. She glanced down with a grunt, and saw the assegai sink into her wet flesh. She bleated disbelievingly – then screamed as if the spearhead had caught fire. Maria bared her teeth and put her weight behind the thrust. Fran thrashed and wailed until her sweet heart broke.
A rustling in the foliage made Rachael swing around. A mounted redcoat blundered into view. Her eyes were wide and very blue beneath her domed white helmet. Her face was like an anxious little girl’s.
Rachael swung her bow to bear and Susie’s pistol cracked. The bullet struck the huntress in the breast. It penetrated Rachael’s heart and cored it like an apple. The bow twanged and the arrow leapt away. The huntress jerked convulsively. Blood speckled Susie’s cheek. She fired again. A coin-sized blot appeared on Rachael’s forehead. The impact flipped the girl’s head back, blood soaking her blonde highlights. Her hide boots scuffed the ground as she collapsed.
Maria’s spine arched like a cat’s, her wet hair in her eyes as she looked round. Susie bit her lip and took fresh aim. The huntress left Fran’s sodden corpse and plunged beneath the surface. Susie heeled her horse up to the bank and started shooting. Plumes of water spurted up, but Maria’s naked silhouette kept swimming. Susie cursed and set off in pursuit along the bank.
The water lapped at Fran’s smooth breasts, the shallows turning pink around her body. A rivulet of crimson ran from Rachael’s matted hair to spread the stain. A scarlet stream was oozing over Lucy’s upturned tits. It wormed to join the others, but the dry earth soaked it up before it go there.
* * *
Maria swam until her breath ran out, then broke the surface. Her wet hair spilled like seaweed down her back. Gasping, she glanced round. The river shimmered in the sunlight. The Redcoat’s horse was crashing through the trees. Maria gripped her spear and sloshed towards the other bank. She had almost reached its shadows when a second rider plunged into the fray.
The huntress stumbled back and Debra’s horse came splashing forward, its fetlocks raising fountains of bright spray. The Hussy was bare-headed now, her mane of dark curls tumbling round her shoulders. She’d unbuttoned her jacket, and her plump, large-nippled breasts were bare as well.
Maria raised her assegai, then saw the wicked lance in Debra’s grasp. She wavered, and the horse bore down on her. The huntress flung her spear, which missed, and floundered for the bank. She felt a snort against her neck, and then a thrust between her shoulder blades. “Uggh!” she choked and arched her spine, the brutal pressure flattening her lungs. Her firm breasts bulged invitingly, but nobody was there to ogle them. Panting, Debra braced herself and jabbed the lance in deeper. Maria gave a high-pitched sob. She wriggled like a fish. Debra felt the quiver of her death throes up the shaft. Her own tits heaved with pitiless excitement.
Maria gave a final moan and flopped into the water. Debra turned her mount away and worked her crotch against the saddle horn. The skirmish seemed to freeze in time; she ground her hips and felt her climax coming. Maria’s spitted body drifted face-down in the flow. Debra bit her lip to keep from squealing. And then she glimpsed the figure in the trees.
Leilani had a rifle braced against her naked shoulder, the barrel levelled at the Hussy’s breasts. It was one of the guns they’d scavenged off the Redcoats. Her finger teased the trigger partway back.
Debra glared at her and felt the heat between her legs go off the boil. She swallowed hard. Her bosom kept pulsating. Her lance was still lodged in Maria’s body. Deliberately she drew her sabre, holding the girl’s gaze.
Leilani’s stomach tightened, and her trigger finger ached for one last twitch. Her olive skin was damp with sweat. Her eyes were still as wary as a deer’s.
“Do you remember who you are?” she said.
Debra made a show of looking puzzled. She spread her hands, the naked sabre glinting. Her thighs tensed round the horse and it began to make its way towards the bank.
“This isn’t real - it’s just some sort of game,” Leilani said. “Someone’s kidnapped us and tried to wipe our memories! I should be in an office now … not fighting for my life.” Her fingers tightened round the gun. “That’s close enough, you cow!”
But Debra had begun to frown. She looked back at the girl whom she’d just killed. Then at the sabre in her hand. “I can’t remember why I’m here,” she murmured.
“Nor could I,” Leilani said. “But now I’ve got it back.” She peered up at the horsewoman. “Just think. It’s in there somewhere!”
Debra let her sabre droop. She looked uncertain now. Leilani turned her gun aside and let the horse plod up onto the bank.
“We have to get away,” she hissed. “Right now, before they come!”
Debra nodded pensively – then lashed out with her sword hand. The hilt hammered Leilani on the temple. The Amazon’s wide eyes rolled up, then fluttered closed again as she collapsed.
Debra peered down at her slumped body, then brushed her hair away from her left cheek. The curls concealed the headset she was wearing. She flipped the microphone into position and spoke quietly.
“It’s Delta Bravo here. I’ve found a dirty-minded Doll.” The double-edged expression made her smirk.
“Better bring her in,” advised the voice from the Control Vault. “We need to find out why it hasn’t worked.”
Debra nodded. “Sure thing.” She heard a horse come rustling through the leaves. Concealing the microphone, she looked around as Susie rode to join her. The young Redcoat had taken off her helmet and her short fair hair was pasted to her brow. Her face and throat were flushed with pink and spotted with fresh blood.
“How did you do?” asked Debra casually.
Susie shrugged. “I only managed one.”
“One is good enough for a first raid. Did you enjoy it?”
Susie seemed unsure for just a moment. Then a slow grin crossed her face. “Well, yes … I guess I did.”
“Good girl,” Debra smiled. “We’ll make a Hussy of you yet.” They both looked round as Wendy came in sight. The elfin girl’s drawn sabre was as bright-red as her cap and underwear.
“Laura’s on her way,” she said. “The others didn’t make it.” She seemed to take the losses in her stride. As if all this was just a game, and Fran and Lucy were just playing dead.
“Did any of them get away?”
Wendy smiled slyly. “Not a chance.”
“I took this one alive,” said Debra, nodding at Leilani. “I think the Guard might want to talk to her.”
Susie stared down at the girl. The bitch was beautiful. She felt a twinge of envy, but it faded in her glow of satisfaction. The raid had been as scary as a roller-coaster ride. But now that it was over, she was itching to go round the loop again.
* * *
A key scraped in the rusty lock and Jessika looked up. She was sitting on the cool stone floor, her back against the wall. The cell was bare but still felt claustrophobic. The window leaked a dusty ray of light into the gloom.
The heavy door creaked open and more light came seeping in. One of the Guard came through into the cell. She was petite and nicely-shaped, her tight black crop-top showing off her tits. Jessika regarded them and moistened her dry lips. The girl had short, gamine dark hair and a determined look. Her pretty, slightly pointed face was made anonymous by her blank shades.
“On your feet,” she said. “The Battalion Leader wants to see you.”
Firm but femme, mused Jessika. She clambered up, deliberately slow. She’d taken off her parka but still wore the panzer jacket and black cap. Her auburn hair was lank and needed combing. Her bra and briefs felt tacky with dried sweat.
The girl stood back to let her out, her face expressionless. An M9 automatic rested snugly on her hip. Jessika glanced down at it, then peered at her surroundings. The corridor was lined with cells, but seemed more like a priory than a prison. Maybe nuns had lived here once, denying their desires. The notion brought a wry smile to her lips.
“This way,” said the girl and motioned Jessika ahead. Both of them wore army boots which clacked against the flagstones of the passage. They emerged into a cloister and the morning air grew hot. Jessika looked back. “So where do you fit in?” she asked.
“My name’s Rebekah, I’m a Unit Leader,” said the girl. She noted Jessika’s blank look. “I guess that’s a lieutenant in your army.”
They moved around the baking courtyard, heading for the building at one corner. Another Guard was lounging in a carved chair by the door. She was only wearing boots and shorts, her naked torso glistening with oil. Her posture was relaxed, her cropped head resting on the chairback, her M4 carbine propped across its arms. Her eyes might have been closed, but her dark shades remained all-seeing, and Jessika was sure she was alert.
Passing her, they went into the house. The air was cooler. “Up these steps,” Rebekah said. A grim-faced Guard was waiting at the top. She eyed Jessika suspiciously, her finger twitchy in her trigger guard. Jessika stared back, unfazed. Rebekah nudged her down the passageway.
They came into an airy, Spartan room that smelled of incense. It was furnished with some antique chairs, a coffee table and a writing desk. A slim girl in a long silk robe was standing by the window, gazing out. Her skin was glossy golden brown, her ink-black hair tied back. Her face, when she looked round, was sternly handsome. She gave the girls a condescending smile.
“Thanks, Rebekah. I’ll take over now.” Her voice was soft and cultured, very English.
Rebekah seemed to hesitate, then flicked her a smart-casual salute. “Battalion Leader,” she said dutifully. Giving Jessika a look, she turned and left the room. Jessika glanced after her, then turned back to the dark-eyed Indian girl.
“One of my best soldiers. Very loyal.”
“Mm. Nice arse, as well,” said Jessika.
The girl smiled genially and sauntered over to a chair. She was naked underneath the robe. Her nipples showed like dark coins through the silk. Sitting down, her bare legs crossed, she took a cigarette case from the table. Jessika watched her lighting up. Her empty stomach grumbled edgily.
“So, now it’s just the two of us,” she murmured.
The girl picked up a pistol from beside the silver case. “Not quite. I have my fifteen little helpers.”
Her smile was sly and confident. She laid the automatic down again. Jessika walked over to the window and looked out across the sunlit roofs below.
“Welcome to the real world again,” the girl’s voice said. “I’m Jaz, and I’m in charge of the Command Guard. We take care of range control and citadel defence. It’s my job to make sure this place runs smoothly.”
Jessika looked round at her. “What happened to the war?”
“The real war? It’s all around - just over the horizon.” Jaz blew a plume of smoke and studied her. “When you were snatched, I guess you did some kind of routine job, and thought that life was comfortable enough. But out there on the fringes, the whole planet’s catching fire.”
“Snatched?” said Jessika. She frowned. “I don’t remember that. In fact … I don’t remember anything.”
“Even if you did, you wouldn’t know as much as this. We’ve got new rulers, Jessika. They aim to stamp the fires out again. And for that they need a never-ending army. This sector trains the female troops – they’re good at skirmishing and ragged warfare. Male troops for assault and shock are conditioned somewhere else.”
Jessika absorbed that for a minute. Her eyes flicked to the writing desk. A slimline laptop rested on the wood. An incense stick was smouldering like Jaz’s cigarette. “So why have you brought me in?” she asked at length.
The Indian girl flicked ash, and shrugged. “I watched you break that attack in the Red Forest. Brilliant soldiering. I was impressed.”
“Let me guess …” said Jessika. “You want me for your band of butch young ladies.”
Jaz laughed lightly, musically. “It’s strange, you know … the way the brainwash works. It screws up the emotional responses. The girls we get are mostly straight, but they don’t remember that. Put them in a world full of danger, a world without men, and they’re in each other’s knickers like a flash!”
“I rather think I was like that to begin with,” Jessika said. She was aware of the warm bulge in her own panties. She glanced at Jaz’s cleavage through the loose front of her gown. “How about you?”
Jaz grinned lazily, her dark eyes dancing. “I don’t need the sex, I’ve got the power. But answering your question, yes, I want you in the Guard. You just need to create a vacancy.”
Jessika’s eyes narrowed. “How?” she asked.
“You’ve met Louise, one of my spearhead-leaders.”
“Yeah, we met. We didn’t get along.”
“I thought as much,” Jaz purred. She blew another stream of smoke. “Louise is an ambitious cow. I think she wants my job. It’s time she was demoted permanently. But she’s got quite a power base: a lot of loyal girls. To deal with her, I needed the most vicious, ruthless bitch that I could find.”
Jessika stared back at her. A slow smile crossed her face.
“I guess your search is over, then,” she said.