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Message-ID: <25605asstr$965103005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Leviticus" <leviticus1@uswest.net>
Subject: {ASSM} To Catch Rhianna   Part 11  (BDSM)
Date: Tue,  1 Aug 2000 00:10:05 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

To Catch Rhianna part 11



   He was not a big man, but he was a respected man.  "Respect" was an easy
word to use when you thought about him, it sounded much better inside your
head than "Fear."

   There was something about the eyes, or maybe his face, that made you
look twice at this man.  It was sort of like looking at a dangerous snake,
keeping track of its movements so that it couldn't bite you.

   While that wasn't the only member of the animal kingdom that the man
reminded you of, a snake certainly was one of the more prominent ones.

   He was known as the "Collector," although to his face it was
satisfactory enough to call him "Sir."

   No one knew his real name, and he wasn't the type of man who prompted
you to ask those sorts of questions.  That he was Latino was obvious; his
complexion and slight accent gave that information away with no effort from
him at all.  But the rest of his past was clouded in secrecy.

   It was just the way he wanted it.

   Looking at the man made you think of other things than his past anyway,
such as your own immediate future.

   The Collector had come aboard the ship, now docked in New Orleans, and
stood in the almost empty bulk container staring at the shape in the cage.

   "What the fuck did you do to her?" he asked, not taking his eyes of the
sleeping body of Rhianna Summer, who was curled up on her side in her cage.
Her body had bruises everywhere, especially her face, which looked swollen
from multiple impacts and was bisected with the strap of a large rubber
ball gag.  One of her fingers was twice its normal size, and she slept with
her legs spread apart, her inner thighs and groin black and blue.

   The crew had not been gentle with her.

   Also staring at her was Mandy, and Henri Bouchard, the Captain of the
ship.  Both were nervous, having heard about the Collector, before now
meeting him for the first time, but of the two, Mandy was the most scared.

   Mandy had made an attempt to clean Rhianna up, succeeding only to the
point that several days worth of cum and piss no longer coated the woman's
body.  She wouldn't have bothered, but the telex she got that morning had
identified who was coming to collect Rhianna.

   It made all the difference.  Had she known earlier, she would never have
traded Rhianna to the crew.

   "I said, 'what the fuck did you do to her?'" the Collector repeated.

   "She serviced the crew, that's all," Mandy said a little nervously.

   "'Serviced the crew.' I see.  I'm sure I'll see in her travel
instructions that servicing the crew was part of the agreement."

   Mandy's heart skipped a beat.  She looked down and then looked up, angry
with herself for letting this man get on top of her.  Mandy had never bowed
to a man in her life, not even aboard this ship, where what she did was by
her own free will and enjoyment.

   "Hey, the slut needed some taking down, so I made a decision.  It all
goes to her training, anyway!" Mandy said angrily.

   "And you're a qualified trainer, right?" said the Collector.

   "I've trained my share of girls, yes!  Men too!"

   "You taught women how to be submissives, how to obey your will and
follow orders?"

   "Yes...yes I did!" Mandy was feeling more and more sure if herself now.

   "THEN WHY THE FUCK DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO FOLLOW ORDERS YOURSELF!" the
Collector yelled, turning at last to face her.

   Mandy paled when she saw his expression.  The man's face held a raw fury
that was aimed directly at her.  But she stood her ground.  "Don't you yell
at me like that.  I'm not one of these bimbo slave girls.  Save your macho
bullshit for one of them!"

   The Collector stared at her for a moment, then he turned to the Captain,
a slight smile on his face.  "Captain, I know your orders were to obey
hers, so I assume she told you nothing about the condition this slave was
supposed to be in when she got here."

   "Non, Monsieur, she say nothing," said the Captain, his accent so thick
in his nervousness that he could barely be understood.  The Captain also
gave Mandy a dirty look for getting him into trouble.

   "It was HIS crew that did that to her!" Mandy said with a smirk, not
endearing herself to the Captain at that moment.

   "Captain," continued the Collector, ignoring her, "when will you next be
in the Bahamas?"

   "Not for another month, Monsieur, we have two more stops to make before
going back that way."

   "Good, then you have time to make amends," the Collector said, smiling.
"You will keep this piece of trash aboard until you get back to the
islands," he ordered pointing at Mandy.

   "What?" she said, taking a step back.

   "You will see to it that she...entertains your crew as thoroughly as the
slave did."

   The Captain nodded, a smile of his own chasing the relief in his eyes.

   "Wait a minute!" said Mandy.  "I have people expecting me ashore.  You
can't just order me kept here!"

   "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" the Collector yelled.

   "That's bullshit!  I don't care who the hell you are, but you aren't
giving ME any orders!"

   Mandy could have sworn she was out of his reach, but a second later she
was heading for the ground after a vicious backhand to the face.

   She lay on one side for a moment, supported on one arm, with blood
trickling from the corner of her mouth.  To say she was shocked was an
understatement.

   With big eyes, she stared up at the Collector, who watched her
impassively.  "Bitch," he said.  He turned back to the Captain, who had
watched what had happened with a shudder.  Never had he seen anyone move
that fast.

   "Captain, you will keep her aboard, and before you release her, you will
take pictures of her and will send them to me.  If I don't see twice as
much damage to this woman's body as what your crew did to the slave, then I
will see to it that the difference is taken out of your worthless hide. 
Comprendre?"

   "Oui, Monsieur."

   "Now get the fuck out of my sight and take the whore with you!"

   Mandy scrambled to her feet.  "You fucker, you're mad!" she cried and
she headed for the door leaving the two men alone.

   "Hadn't you better go after her?" the Collector asked.

   The Captain smiled.  "She will not be able to leave the ship, Monsieur,"
he said.  He bowed slightly and headed for the door, pulling a radio from
out of a pocket; he had orders to give his men.

   The Collector turned back to the cage, its occupant still sleeping
despite the ruckus.  He didn't know it, but this was the first chance
Rhianna had had to lie down and sleep since she tried to escape.  The rest
of the time she slept hung up by her bonds.

   The Collector grunted and headed for the door, sealing it tight behind
him before heading ashore.



   ---***--



   Two hours later he was on the open road, driving a tractor-trailer that
had for its load the container containing Rhianna Summer.  False documents
had eased his way through customs, and with a fleet of other trucks
similarly loaded with real containers, he had driven away from the docks
and the gulf city.

   Now they were all alone and it was getting dark.

   The Collector kept his eyes open for a rest stop, and when he saw one,
he pulled in, parking toward the far end away from a few cars and a couple
of trucks that had also stopped.

   He got out of the truck and stood silently next to it, listening to the
engine as it pinged, cooling after a couple of hours of heavy travel.  He
had always enjoyed that sound.  He took his pleasures wherever he could
find them.

   Carefully looking around, he walked to the rear of the truck and
unlocked the container, cracking open the door a little.

   The smell of stale feces wafted out, making him gag for a moment, but he
regained his composure, and turning on his flashlight, he stepped inside.

   Rhianna still lay in her cage, although her position had changed. 
Completely on her front now, he could see that her hands were bound in
manacles, but deep grooves and bruises showed that she had been bound in
ways that were a lot more uncomfortable.

   The Collector swore when he saw it, not so much out of concern for the
human being in the cage, but because of the violation of his orders.  It
was HIS job to move slaves around the country, new slaves, old slaves, any
and all that were not traveling voluntarily or were considered great
security risks.

   He had received orders from high up about this one, with specific
instructions as to when and how.  He was supposed to have gone to the
Bahamas himself to get her, but somehow her capture was moved up,
necessitating her being brought to him.

   It was a big fuck up and he didn't like it.

   Heads would roll.

   The Collector opened the cage and dragged Rhianna out, half waking her
and making her moan.  With a strength that would have surprised bigger men,
he hoisted her up onto his shoulders and carried her to the door, jumping
down to the ground with barely a missed step.

   The air was moist but cool, and it must have had an immediate affect on
Rhianna, because she started to move on his shoulders.

   He started back to the truck's cab but Rhianna gave a violent kick that
upset his balance.  Both of them fell to the ground, but it was Rhianna who
moved first.  Not quite as asleep as she had pretended to be, she kicked
out at the man while she still lay on the ground, connecting one shapely
foot with the side of his head.

   She then scrambled to her feet and began hobbling as best she could
toward the cars and trucks a few hundred feet away.  She knew that all she
had to do was attract some attention and it would all be over.

   But her injuries, especially those to her pelvis, prevented her from
moving very quickly, and the rubber monster in her mouth kept her from
calling out to the people she knew to be just a short distance away.  In no
time at all, she felt a hand on her shoulder spinning her around.

   Rhianna attempted another kick, her arms trapped uselessly behind her,
but her keeper was prepared for that.

   He simply caught her foot and kicked her himself, catching her in the
stomach and taking the wind out of her.

   Gasping for breath around the gag, Rhianna was picked up and hauled back
to the truck, where she was dumped in the sleep cab behind the driver's
seat.

   The Collector cuffed one foot to a handy handhold and then relaxed for a
moment until Rhianna caught her breath.

   "Good try, slave meat!" he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

   Rhianna stared at him, her lungs still heaving.  One eye was almost
closed due to her injuries, but the other showed her hostility very well.

   She wondered if he was going to rape her like the crew did, if he was
going to hurt her too.  Rhianna's mind was currently operating on a lower
level, her days of torture robbing her of her civilized identity.  All she
wanted to do was run, to be safe.

   In the light of the cab, the Collector was able to get a better look at
her; damn, she was a mess.  He reached out and brushed a very bruised
nipple, covered in what looked like teeth marks.  Rhianna jumped back at
his touch, but couldn't go far due to the wall behind her.

   "They really did a number on you, didn't they!" he said to her, moving
closer to get a better look at her.

   She kicked out with her free foot, but this time it was expected. 
Again, he caught her foot in mid flight, showing off his amazing reflexes,
and held it steady by the ankle.

   "Do that one more time, and I WILL hurt you, understood?"

   Rhianna glared back at him, so the Collector began to squeeze her ankle.
Rope burns covered the joint, and he reasoned that they must already hurt
like hell, so he knew it was a good place to apply pressure.

   Rhianna began to moan and scream into her gag, but he kept it up until
he saw her eyes watering.

   "No more shit, understand me, slave meat?"

   Rhianna nodded, beaten.

   The Collector let go, then reached for her gag strap.  He was alert for
any move she might make, but Rhianna did nothing.

   He figured that she was willing to keep doing nothing if it meant relief
from the huge gag.

   Before he took it out however, he had one more warning for her.  "You
make a sound above a whisper, and I will kill you now.  You aren't so
important that I risk my own freedom because of you."

   Rhianna believed him; she nodded again.

   The gag was removed and Rhianna laid her head down, panting as she tried
to close her pain-stretched jaws.  Her mouth was very dry, and to be honest
she doubted she could have worked up a decent scream anyway.

   She felt water squirted into her mouth from a bottle, and she drank
greedily.

   "Not too much now, take it slowly," she was told.

   The water felt good going down, and calmed one of the many things that
made her uncomfortable.  The pain she felt was enormous, but amazingly
enough, it was her thirst and her hunger that demanded the most attention.

   The man began pushing food into her, an oatmeal-like paste substance
that didn't require chewing.  He had picked up some baby foods during the
drive, unsure as to the condition of her jaws.

   Rhianna was concerned about that too, and as she ate, she tested all her
teeth with her tongue and was relieved to find none missing.

   She wondered who the man was, and what awful plans he had for her. 
Surprisingly enough, her police instincts were also being awakened as the
storm in her belly was calmed by the food, and she wondered if he was
involved in Amy Nelson's kidnapping.

   Maybe, she thought, he knew nothing at all, not even who she was.  He
might just think twice about what he was doing if he knew she was a Federal
Agent.

   "My name...is...Rhianna Summer..." she began between mouthfuls, keeping
her voice low.

   "I don't care what your name was, Bitch!" her captor replied, spooning
into her mouth some more strained peas.

   Rhianna swallowed.  "You don't understand..."

   The man's hand was a blur and caught her on the side of the face.  She
saw stars for a few seconds.

   "Shut the fuck up!  I don't care who you were, all that is gone now!"

   "I'm a Federal Agent, FBI..."

   He hit her harder and she almost passed out, then she felt her hair
being pulled, and he pressed his face nose to nose in front of hers. 
"Listen, Cunt!  Your life as you knew it is OVER!  When you get put in my
hands, it don't matter a shit what you used to do.  You could be the
President's wife or a common street whore, but it don't matter 'cos of
where you're going.  All you are now is a piece of slave meat whose last
remaining value is that hole between your legs, and THAT'S if you're lucky!
So get this straight.  You ain't Anna whatever anymore, you're nothing!"

   He spat in her face and then moved back.  Before she knew it, he had
picked up the gag and shoved it back into her open mouth.

   Rhianna struggled, but it really was no use, and in moments he had it
fastened once more.  To make matters worse, he then pulled a cloth sack
over her head, shutting out the light and making her blind.

   She heard him move about the cab for a few minutes before he shoved her
bodily against the wall of the bunk, and she felt him climb in next to her.

   For a second, she was afraid he was going to rape her like the others,
but was startled to feel that he was still clothed in shirt and shorts. 
She felt a blanket being pulled up over the both of them and then he slowly
settled down.

   His last words to her before they both fell asleep were, "You had better
not piss on my bunk!"



   ---***--



   The next morning, the Collector slid out of the bunk without waking his
cargo.  He stepped outside into the cold morning air and took a relaxing
leak against the side of the truck.

   He noticed that some of the cars had changed overnight, but that the big
rigs had stayed the same.  One of them was running, and he watched it pull
out of the rest area.

   The Collector did a quick walk around of his own rig and noted with
satisfaction that from one side of it he was invisible to both the highway
and the rest area.  That made things easy.

   He opened the door to the sleep area and undid the cuff on the woman's
ankle.  He woke her up, hauling her by the legs out of the truck, and she
stood shakily on her feet, naked in the cold air.

   Her body looked horrible, covered in a multitude of colors.  But he knew
they were all surface injuries, and in a week most of them would be gone.
The woman he had consigned to shipboard slavery had gotten off lucky.  Had
he found any serious or permanent injury, he would have recommended a much
harsher treatment for Mandy.

   "Piss!" he ordered, and the hooded naked woman did her best to squat
down and relieve herself.

   Rhianna was still groggy, but felt better than she had the day before.
The rest she had gotten and the food had helped win some strength back. 
She still felt awful, the pain in her body immense, but the world around
her seemed clearer, and as time went on, so were her thoughts.

   But she also knew she was in a no-win situation.  Bound, hooded, and
gagged as she was, there was no way she could do anything to escape, and as
her sore face testified, this was not a man to cross.  If he wanted her to
stand in the open and piss, then piss she would.  She knew she had to buy
time to heal.

   She would even, and this took a lot of guts for her to admit, spread her
legs for him.

   Rhianna shuddered but did as she was told, allowing herself to be
manhandled back into the truck after she was done.

   Once more she was cuffed, and then the bag and gag were removed.

   Her captor fed and watered her again, himself too, while Rhianna studied
his face.  She wanted to remember it.

   He then bagged her head once more, got dressed, and started the truck.
They had a long way to go.

   They traveled for two days, and except to growl at her from time to
time, the Collector barely said a word to her that wasn't a direct order.

   She lay on the bunk for almost all that time, her head in the hood,
resting and gathering her strength.  The baby food was replaced by real
food, stuff she could sink her teeth into, and it was something she
appreciated a lot.  They would often eat the same things, roadside
hamburgers with all the fixings, or chicken, and one time it was a huge
salad.  He made her drink water and milk.

   Her only exercise was climbing out of the truck a few times each day to
relieve herself, but even that wasn't bad.

   Rhianna minded her manners and avoided more injuries, although at any
moment, when he wasn't driving, she expected him to come back to her and
fuck her.  But he didn't, in fact, he barely touched her at all, and this
too allowed her to come back from the edge; to be once again the Rhianna
she was, rather than the sex slave they wanted her to be.

   It was rather boring just lying there, though; she filled her mind with
the case, and with the people she knew.  She wondered if Bart was still
staying in her apartment.  She wondered if her boss James Vessor was out
looking for her, putting the immense resources of the FBI in motion to find
her.  She also wondered where Matthew was, and if he even cared anymore. 
No doubt he had found some other woman to share his bed with in Colorado,
and Rhianna strained to think if divorces were legal in the Compound.

   To distract her from those depressing thoughts, she tried to figure out
the direction they were traveling.

   She had no idea where she was, although she thought they might be in the
desert someplace.  The ground under her bare feet had become sandy and hot
over time, and there was a smell beyond her own stink that reminded her of
her one trip to Vegas many years ago.

   She soon stopped wondering, when her captor announced that they had
arrived.

   The door opened and she felt hands pull her out of the cab.  She was
carried outside for a moment and then into a building of some sort.

   Her manacles were released and she was quickly shoved into a small cage.

   The men around her didn't say much, and when they did talk, it was in
Spanish.

   The hood was suddenly pulled off her and she saw two men recoil at the
injuries on her face.

   "Man, he's gonna be pissed!" one of them said.

   "Yeah, but we're supposed to wait until he comes down to see her himself
before we process her," said the other.

   "Can't we collar her?"

   "No, just wait."

   The first man, young, but with lines weathered into his skin, leaned
forward.  "Woman.  You make one noise and we bring some of those bruises
back to life!"

   Rhianna nodded, taking the chance to look around.

   She was the only one locked in a stack of cages that dominated one wall.
Ahead of her were two examination tables, and a far wall was filled with
lockers and cupboards.

   Two doors led out of the room, but which one she had come in through,
she didn't know.

   Of her captor, she saw no sign.

   She was just beginning to examine the cage lock, enjoying the freedom of
being out of direct bondage for the first time in a long time, when two
more men entered the room.

   Rhianna looked up at them casually and froze.

   It couldn't be him!







   End of Part 11.

   Catch up on all my stories at http://www.dajungle.com/stories/leviticus


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