War of the Pussy Snatchers - Interlude 03

"See, I knew you would like this," Leslie whispered. "I have a knack for knowing which nice ladies are really nasty bitches who love feeling wet cunts rub all over their naked skin."

Zoey moaned as their sweaty bodies kept clapping together with wet slapping noises. Leslie pulled on the short hair hanging down the nape of Zoey's neck, licked her on her neck and shoulders, and never ceased for a moment grinding her genitals against Zoey's pussy and ass. Leslie promised she wouldn't stop until they both reached their climaxes. Zoey didn't even have to fake it when her turn came shortly after Leslie's.

Zoey became Leslie's bitch from that day on. There really was a no more accurate way to describe their relationship. The old Zoey would have been mortified and ashamed with herself at how quickly and totally she inhabited her new role of Leslie's bottom but the new Zoey cared not a whit. This was something Zoey decided she wanted and she had never been a half-measures kind of gal. She fully inhabited new position in life's hierarchy as Leslie's little bitch. There was no judgment from any of her cellmates. Based on the gasps and moans that Zoey heard coming from the other cots in their cell at night she wasn't the only prisoner who had formulated a similar arrangement with one of their fellow captives.

Zoey became the loyal slave to Leslie's tyranny in bed while outside of the comforting confines of that sacred shared place between their sheets Leslie led her around like Zoey was a lost puppy dog. Zoey obeyed Leslie's every order and even fetched things for her all day long. She actually grinned back whenever Leslie patted her on the head and called her a good girl. Zoey liked doing things for Leslie.

The first few days were awkward as Zoey adjusted to her new lifestyle but within a week Zoey had stopped flinching whenever Leslie put her arm around Zoey's shoulders possessively or fondled her breasts and ass in front of the other prisoners. The way Leslie groped her private parts in public made it clear to everyone just who Zoey belonged to now. Zoey came to secretly enjoy Leslie's indecent displays and the shocked looks on the other women's faces whenever Leslie made a show of her.

Zoey's quickly overcame her aversion to performing oral sex on a woman. She relieved herself of that reticence only two days after falling under Leslie's control. They kissed and cuddled underneath Leslie's blankets and when Leslie slid her pants and underwear down Zoey placed her mouth between Leslie's thighs without any prompting and started licking the wet heat of her center.

Zoey nearly laughed the first time she saw how big and black a bush Leslie had growing from her crotch. All that hair didn't deter Zoey from diving right into that furry snatch. She actually didn't mind the hair, even when she spat out Leslie's soggy pubes. The cost of business, that.

Leslie's pungent odor smelled a bit too strong for Zoey's liking and her flavor wasn't much better. But Zoey soon came to love listening to the quickening of Leslie's breath as Zoey used her mouth and tongue to stimulate Leslie's genitals. She loved the salty flavor she received from licking the thin sheen of sweat that formed across Leslie's body. Most of all Zoey loved the way Leslie's vagina opened and contracted as Leslie orgasmed in her mouth and she cherished the knowledge that she had done such a good job making her owner come. Leslie moaned and pet Zoey's hair so kindly while she came that Zoey nearly wept again. From that day on Zoey happily licked Leslie to completion every evening.

Zoey shared Leslie's bed every single night and in return Leslie obtained more blankets for their cot and also found heavier, less ragged clothing for Zoey to wear. She also somehow managed to secure extra portions of their meager rations which she shared freely with Zoey. Most thankfully, the guards stopped bothering Zoey entirely and never harassed her when Leslie was around.

Zoey eventually learned that Leslie regularly engaged in sex with the prison guards. She was quite surprised by this development since Leslie always made it quite clear that only girls interested her sexually. Zoey discovered Leslie's impropriety one time when she started licking and fingering Leslie only to find a deposit of creamy white sperm filling Leslie's vagina. Zoey didn't say anything, she merely slurped the semen up along with the rest of Leslie's come and wiped the glistening smear of male ejaculate sticking to her fingers off using one of the blankets. She wasn't one to judge. Zoey had dropped to her knees or bent over a table plenty of times during her first months here in exchange for favors from the guards. She wouldn't have made it this long otherwise. A few times a week Leslie's genitals produced evidence of these illicit encounters but both Leslie and Zoey left the matter silently unremarked upon.

The men who guarded their prison considered their captives either enemies not to be trusted or resources to be exploited. Plenty of women used their bodies to curry favor amongst the guards; Zoey was not alone among them. Some of the more altruistic older women freely offered themselves to sate the men's desires so they might leave the younger girls alone. If these men wished to keep the only remaining women left unsullied by the Soulless infection sympathetic to their cause they were failing miserably.

Occasionally desperate women would attempt an escape or try to defect to the Soulless. When they were inevitably caught the punishment was swift and merciless. The earth was so frozen that the field outside the barbwired prison fences was adorned with the blanket-wrapped corpses of transgressors who couldn't be buried until the ground thawed. For that reason alone Zoey never attempted crossing to the other side or tried communicating with the enemy. The few Soulless who were kept as prisoners of war in the internment camp were jailed in a separate holding facility to prevent any mingling between the strange dead-eyed females and the women who still retained their humanity.

Zoey came to the unfortunate conclusion that Leslie volunteered to sleep with the guards as part of a deal to earn favors from them and keep Zoey safe from their attentions. Her sacrifice worked. No one bothered Zoey since she began sleeping with Leslie and with the extra food and warmth Leslie provided her Zoey felt the healthiest she had for months.

For six weeks Zoey shared Leslie's bed. Leslie sometimes reciprocated Zoey's ministrations but when she did Leslie always treated Zoey as roughly as possible. She pulled and stretched Zoey's nipples and nipped at them with her teeth. Leslie slapped Zoey hard enough on her ass that red handprints were left lingering on her cheeks. She stabbed her fingers inside of Zoey hard enough to make her howl into Leslie's palm as it muzzled her screaming mouth.

Leslie fell in love with Zoey's ass. Zoey always thought she possessed too slim a bottom for anyone to be excited about but maybe that was why Leslie liked it. Leslie regularly caressed, squeezed, and tickled her bottom in front of the other inmates until she left Zoey a nervous, giggling mess. She saved the more extensive play for bedtime when she would massage Zoey's little buttcheeks to her heart's contact.

Zoey liked Leslie's hands touching her down there and warming her buns so much that she looked forward to it every night and would pout childishly when naughty Leslie delayed Zoey her fun. Leslie had a large, fat bottom to contrast with Zoey's skinny ass and even though Zoey enjoyed touching it too Leslie never seemed nearly as thrilled about it as when she kneaded all the tension and tightness from Zoey's asscheeks.

Leslie sometimes used her fingertip to massage the sensitive ring of Zoey's anus but in the only concession to the final remaining shreds of Zoey's dignity Leslie never actually penetrated her there. An especially kind gesture considering they both knew Zoey would allow Leslie to do whatever she wanted to Zoey's asshole.

For as roughly as Leslie treated Zoey she could display surprising tenderness as well. After Zoey succeeded in making her come enough times Leslie used her bulk to warm Zoey's body as she held her so comfortingly close and whispered the sweetest things in Zoey's ear. They made gentle but passionate love far into the night without a care for who might hear them.

Though neither of them discussed their previous lives Zoey always wondered what had happened in Leslie's life that made her guard her emotions so fiercely and also made the sexual mistreatment of her partners the only outlet for expressing the affection she felt for them. It gave Zoey such joy to see Leslie come out of her shell and not be afraid to do things like kiss Zoey instead of spanking her or make love to her sweetly and softly for a change. While she didn't believe Leslie was the one, Zoey had definitely developed serious feelings for the woman outside of the submissive adoration a pet held for her master.

Leslie never had to say a word for Zoey to understand the way she felt for her pet. The sacrifices she made on Zoey's behalf spoke louder than words ever could. Being with Leslie and flourishing under her control felt so good and so right that sometimes Zoey almost believed she might escape from this nightmare and return to her old life where she could better explore these conflicting emotions relating to her sexuality and her submissive inclinations that forced her to the bottom rung of the hierarchy in her interpersonal relationships. However, such naive hopes were fleeting in this cold hell.

One day, Leslie was simply gone. It happened like that sometimes. Women disappeared from the imprisoned ranks with such regularity that the captives stopped remarking at all upon the missing. Zoey suspected that the guards took women and did sick things to them first before disposing of them so their fellow prisoners might never learn of their fates. A Soulless occasionally managed to infiltrate the human female population but when their subterfuge was uncovered all the unlucky women sharing a cell with them were purged to prevent the insidious Soulless infection that no one truly understood from spreading.

For six short weeks, Zoey felt warm again after months of nothing inside her but deadness and cold. Leslie ignited a fire within her but the flare burned out all too quickly. Something so strange and beautiful was easily consumed by the tragedy of the human condition. Despite the turning weather that hinted at the coming of spring a perpetual chill inhabited Zoey once again. Her bed was cold and empty, stained with tears now instead of the accumulated sweat and liquid byproducts of Leslie and Zoey's lovemaking.

Leslie's disappearance and the resulting loss of her protecting guidance meant that the guards were paying attention to Zoey again. Maybe that was the true reason for Leslie's taking, to remove any last support that Zoey might rely on. The warden always chose one of the captive women as his favored and for whatever reason he now fixated upon Zoey. She suspected it was only because he liked the way she squealed and whimpered whenever he bent her over his desk and sodomized her using the painfully long measure of his stiff, fleshy rod.

Zoey cringed whenever the warden shot his load into the depths of her rectum after buttfucking her asshole until it achieved a painful, cherry-red color. Every time he neared climax the warden forced his cock all the way inside her until she felt his testicles dangling between her thighs and the hairy skin of his pelvis pressed against her bottom. It hurt so bad that she yelped and screamed, begged for mercy to no avail.

Zoey much preferred when he finished in her mouth. When he did that in her bottom it always took hours before his semen could be completely expelled from her raw, red, aching asshole. It hurt so bad pushing it out of her but Zoey could never feel clean until every trace of his scummy sperm had been purged from her system.

The warden arranged for Zoey to be brought to his office at least once a day so he could have his way with her pussy, her mouth, and her ass. At least during these day sessions she only had to endure his assaults for fifteen minutes or so. When Zoey spent the night in his quarters she would be sexually tortured for hours at a time. The warden never provided any favors for Zoey's benefit, only threatened what might happen to her if she ever resisted his advances.

Zoey hated being forced to talk dirty to him while she performed these disgusting acts. Like having her say how much she liked sucking his dick while she blew him or making her beg for his cum as he jerked himself off all over her face. Or telling him how much she loved it while she was being assraped and even that she loved him watching her as she spread her ass open and farted his sperm out of her anus while he sneered at her and called her a whore.

Zoey didn't know how much longer she could go on like this. Cold, starving, miserable, traumatized, and constantly used by predators who pretended like they were protecting her was no way to live. The captive women were on constant watch and never allowed access to sharp objects or other tools but some women still found ways to end their sorry existence. The most typical forms of suicide were either the use of a knotted bedsheet wrapped around a neck or a nighttime stroll out in the frigid cold without adequate clothing.

One girl whom Zoey knew quite well decided to end herself the latter way. Sharina was the only woman initially captured along with Zoey at the border who then joined her through every transition from detainment center to detainment center until they finally arrived at this frozen hellhole. The young, pretty blonde thing was of the type who would brag to anyone in earshot about being a billionaire socialite's daughter. Zoey listened to her diatribes aplenty over the course of weeks and rolled her eyes with disdain each time Sharina failed at bribing their captors. Daddy was gone now and Sharina didn't seem to realize yet that for all his money and influence her wealth and inheritance didn't count for shit any more.

With her ignorance, entitlement, and pretension, Sharina irritated the hell out of Zoey but no amount of annoyance would have made her ultimate fate deserving. Zoey realized that objectively she was an attractive woman with an appearance pleasing to the male eye but she thanked God every day that her looks weren't anywhere near the stunning beauty of a girl like Sharina. Being that pretty only made you a bigger target. Sharina couldn't hack it as the guard's favorite plaything and after months of being assaulted multiple times daily she decided to walk out into a snowstorm completely naked. It only took a few minutes sitting in the subzero temperature before her body shut down from hypothermia and she froze to death before the guards ever found her.

Zoey doubted she possessed the courage to up and end it all like that. She thought about it, contemplated it, dreamed of it, but could never bring herself to actually go through with it. Zoey was certain her existence would end by some other nefarious means, hopefully with a swift bullet tap on the back of her skull rather than being taken in the night like so many of the others.

When she noticed the stark fear showing through the expressions of the soldiers who herded the women into their cells while dust shook free from the rafters Zoey reacted with only a gleeful smile. Whatever happened, she hoped as many of these men died as possible. The other women cried or prayed while Zoey simply hoped this would all be mercifully over soon. The distant noises of explosions and gunfire drew ever nearer until the screams and loud blasts of bullets echoed down the hallway right outside their cell. Whatever end might come, Zoey welcomed it.

While Zoey's cellmates shrank back timidly when the metal door to their concrete cell creaked and swung open Zoey instead stood up so she might regard these newcomers closely enough to satisfy her intense curiosity over whether their liberators would prove to be ally or enemy. Zoey expected a legion of Soulless or a platoon of male soldiers to pour into their cell but she drew back with surprise when instead a small group of human women entered the room brandishing large guns and wearing heavy combat gear beneath long grey coats.

A young female soldier who had hair shaved down to brown stubble and a grey bandana tied around her scalp trained her rifle on a contingent of gathered prisoners who whimpered pathetically and huddled deeper into the corners of the cell when the barrel of her gun pointed at them. An older woman who behaved with the authority of a commander barked a rebuke at her soldier in a language that sounded like Russian. The young soldier flushed red with embarrassment and immediately lowered her weapon.

Zoey's eyes were instantly drawn to this commander. She wore a large gray coat that had been cunningly designed to keep from restricting her movements over her black uniform and heavy combat boots. Multiple knives that boasted excessive lengths and wicked sharp edges were holstered at her belt and she had her rifle resting over her left shoulder. Zoey found herself more intimidated by the woman's appearance than her penchant for deadly weaponry however.

This woman had obviously been a breathtaking beauty in her youth before her face became lined with age and a series of permanent scars criss-crossed her cheeks. The shade of her bright blonde hair had softened with age into a beautiful silvery-white mane that hung down her back all the way past her waist. A thick strand of silver hair fell across her face but she never blew it out of the away or pushed it aside instead leaving it to descend over her left cheek. It looked as if the errant lock of hair was a permanent fixture to her appearance. The woman possessed piercing green eyes that still looked gloriously human. No Soulless, this one. Her emerald eyes were so luminous they nearly glowed in the dim light. She looked like a goddess.

The silver-maned she-wolf looked about the cell with a critical eye as she took in the sight of eleven shivering, emaciated, half-naked women and girls. She spoke to them with fluent English though her voice remained heavily accented.

"Bring them blankets, clean clothing, coats, and a hot meal," the leader ordered the female soldiers accompanying her. Then she addressed the prisoners directly. "You have been liberated by the Seryy Volchitsa."

The freed women all looked at each other with confusion and the grey-haired warrior seemed disappointed no one recognized the name. She shrugged and then went to help her officers retrieve supplies before conducting the handouts. A few minutes later a happy, smiling Zoey sat wearing clean clothing that actually fit her as she snuggled within a nest of more blankets than she'd seen in months. She sipped periodically from a steaming-hot cup of Campbell's instant Chicken & Noodle soup. It was the best thing Zoey had ever tasted.

Zoey trembled when she looked up from her meal and noticed the silver-haired woman's gaze had narrowed upon her. The older woman who had entranced Zoey with her commanding presence kept her focus squarely on Zoey as she calmly strode over to her. Zoey wanted to shrink into her blankets and disappear but she couldn't move at all when those twin emeralds cast their hypnotic spell.

Zoey had known it the instant she first laid eyes upon the older woman. She was the one. The person Zoey had been searching for her entire life. Not even Leslie had made Zoey feel this way. Zoey always lamented that she had no idea where to look for a soulmate. That was back when she assumed her heart's desire would be a man. Instead it turned out to be a woman and she had done the seeking rather than Zoey. Had the woman noticed the way Zoey looked at her? Of course she had. Her penetrating stare hadn't left Zoey's since she first noticed the girl gazing at her with obvious longing.