The impact sends me sprawling to the ground, my mind reeling. For a moment I'm disoriented, my vision blurring at the edges. Pain lances through my shoulder, hot and sharp. What the fuck just happened?

I try to roll, to get my feet under me, but a boot slams into my ribs, driving the air from my lungs.

My hands scrabble at the dirt, trying to find purchase, to pull myself up and away from the next blow that I know is coming.

"Stay down, you fucking bitch!" a voice snarls above me. Female. Enraged.

Sophia.

Understanding hits me like a sledgehammer. The cunt got the drop on me. She must have circled back, maybe suspecting a trap. And I let my guard down, so focused on my own plans that I didn't even consider…

Stupid. Stupid!

I'm paying for that mistake now. Sophia is on me in an instant, and judging by the way it glints in the moonlight, the long thin thing she’s wielding must be a crowbar, or something.

"Where is she?!" Sophia screams, lifting the crowbar in the air. "What did you do to her?!"

Even now, even with the upper hand, Sophia's first thought is for her friend. Her lover? How sickeningly sweet.

And how incredibly foolish.

Because in her rage, in her desperate worry for Ava, Sophia has made a fatal error. She's forgotten the first rule of combat - never let your emotions control you.

I am not so encumbered.

In the split second before the crowbar descends, I act. My hand shoots out and I grab her ankle. I yank, hard, throwing her off balance. Sophia yelps in surprise as her foot is pulled out from under her. She staggers, the crowbar slipping from her grasp as she windmills her arms, trying to stay upright.

It's all the opening I need.

I surge upwards, ignoring the throb in my shoulder, and tackle her around the waist. We go down in a tangle of limbs, grappling and rolling in the dirt. Sophia is taller than me, with a wiry strength, but that’s just going to make it even more satisfying when I fucking break her.

We tumble across the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Her fingers claw at my face, going for my eyes, and I turn my head, feeling her nails rake across my cheek. I grab her wrist and wrench it away, but when we come to a stop, she’s on top, straddling my hips.

"Fucking traitor!" she says, covering my face in spittle. "You let women down with every fucking breath you take! We could have used someone like you! Someone who understands how to survive!"

She pins my arms with her knees and balls one hand into a fist.

"Oh, I understand how to survive just fine," I say, grunting from the exertion. "That's why I'm on men’s side and not yours."

Her fist descends, but I twist my body at the last second, causing her to punch the ground next to my head. The impact jolts through her hand and she winces, momentarily stunned. I buck my hips, throwing her off balance, and manage to free one of my arms. I grab her by the hair and yank her downwards, while simultaneously snapping my head forward.

God, I love the crunching sound her nose just made.

Sophia reels back with a cry, and I use her momentary distraction to heave her off me, sending her sprawling.

We both scramble to our feet, facing each other warily. Sophia's chest is heaving, her fists clenched at her sides. Blood drips down her chin from her broken nose. I'm not much better off, my shoulder throbbing and my face stinging from her scratches. But I'm grinning like a maniac.

Fuck, this is what it means to feel alive.

Sophia charges at me with a guttural yell, swinging a wild haymaker that I easily duck under. She's getting sloppy now, her anger making her reckless. I dance back, keeping my hands up, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

"Come on, blondie," I say. "That the best you got?"

She snarls and comes at me again, this time with a flurry of punches. I weave and dodge, letting her tire herself out. She's strong, I'll give her that, but she's no real fighter. Not like me.

I wait for my opening, and when it comes, I strike with no hesitation. A quick jab to her already broken nose, followed by a knee to the gut. Sophia doubles over, gasping for breath, and I grab her by the hair, wrenching her head back.

"Where's all that righteous fury now, hmm? Where's that feminist fire?"

She spits a glob of blood in my face. I flinch back instinctively, and she uses that split second to break free of my grip. She staggers back, one hand clutching her stomach, the other held out in front of her defensively.

"Fuck you," she says, wheezing. "You think this will last forever? The regime? The way things are now?"

I wipe the blood from my face with the back of my hand, my grin never wavering. "I think it will last long enough."

Her eyes narrow and she lunges at me again, but this time I'm ready. I sidestep her clumsy grab and bring my elbow down hard on the back of her neck. She stumbles and I follow up with a kick to the back of her knee. Her leg buckles and she goes down to her knees, crying out in pain.

I'm on her in an instant, grinding my knee into her spine, one hand fisting in her hair to wrench her head back while my other arm snakes around her throat.

Sophia gasps and chokes as I tighten my arm around her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her hands claw desperately at my arm, nails digging into my skin, but I don't relent. If anything, her struggling only makes me squeeze harder.

Slowly, almost gently, I lower us both to the ground, never loosening my chokehold. Sophia's back is pressed against my front as I lie down on my right side, my legs wrapping around her midsection like a python's coils.

I lean in close, my lips brushing against her ear. "You know, I've always admired constrictor snakes," I say conversationally, as if we're simply having a friendly chat. "The way they hunt. The way they kill. It's almost… sensual, don't you think? Choking is so intimate. Another being’s life, in the palm of your hand. It’s more intimate than sex itself. Maybe even more erotic…"

Sophia makes a garbled noise, halfway between a sob and a whimper.

"They don't crush their prey to death, did you know that?" I say, tightening my legs around her waist for emphasis. "No, they suffocate them. Each breath is a little more constricted as the grip keeps on tightening…"

I punctuate my words by constricting both arms around her throat, applying a steady, inexorable pressure. Sophia's body jerks and spasms in my grip, her heels drumming against the ground.

"Not that I’m going to do that to you. I totally could, obviously, but I won’t. You’re going to be delivered to a re-education center, safe and sound. You’ve got nothing to worry about!"

I loosen my grip just a little, allowing a trickle of air to reach her starving lungs. Sophia sucks in a ragged, desperate gasp, her body shuddering against mine. But before she can fully recover, I'm squeezing again, cutting off her air supply once more.

"Sometimes I think that’s what men have done to us women," I say, casually. "Constricting us into submission, one restriction at a time, until there was nothing left to take away. And given how good it feels to do the same to you… I have to admit, I can’t exactly blame them for enjoying it."

I establish a rhythm - constrict, release, constrict, release. Each cycle leaves her a little weaker, a little more disoriented. I can feel the fight draining out of her with each passing second. But she's a stubborn one, I'll give her that. Even as her struggles grow feebler, she's still resisting, still trying to buck me off.

It would almost be admirable if it weren't so pathetic.

"Ava…" Sophia whispers, which really is adorable. I nibble gently at her ear.

"She’s okay," I say. "She’s just waiting for us… you know, hanging around, wink wink…"

"You’re… a monster…" Sophia manages to say between gasps.

"I am. That’s your problem," I say. "This is a time of monsters. To win, you need to be monsters. You need to be worse than the men you're fighting against. And that’s why you’ll lose. Don’t you think?"

The only response Sophia is capable of is a strangled gag.

"No? Pity. Just another thing we disagree on, I suppose."

It's a delicate balance, choking someone into passing out without causing any permanent damage. You have to constrict just the right amount, let them teeter on the edge of consciousness, feel their struggles grow weaker and weaker until finally…

There. Her body’s going limp. Her eyelids flutter and I know she's on the very precipice of unconsciousness.

"Say goodnight, Sophia," I whisper in her ear. "I know you hate me, but you can trust me on this one promise. When you wake up, you’re going to be right next to your lover…"

***

"Honey, I'm home!" I say cheerfully as I enter the shed, dumping Sophia's body on the ground with an unceremonious thud. "And look, I brought company!"

I kneel down beside Sophia and begin methodically binding her wrists and ankles with rope, making sure the knots are tight and secure. I'm not taking any chances this time.

Night is fully upon us now, so I’m working by the beam of my torchlight, which I’m sure makes me extra scary to Ava. Not gonna complain about that. The bitch is making muffled noises against the gag, her body twisting and swaying from the beam.

I finish tying off Sophia's bonds and stand, brushing the dirt from my knees. Sophia is still out cold, her head lolling to the side, a trickle of blood running from her broken nose.

I grab a bucket of water from the corner of the shed and unceremoniously dump it over her head. Sophia comes to with a gasp and a splutter, her eyes flying open, darting around in confusion and fear. When her gaze lands on Ava, hanging helplessly from the beam, a choked sob escapes her.

"Ava! Oh god, Ava, I'm so sorry…"

Ava can only make desperate, muffled noises in response, tears streaming down her face. The sight of their shared misery is absolutely delicious. Really, the ability to stay out of prison would be motivation enough, but what can I say? Some jobs are their own rewards, really.

I crouch down beside Sophia, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at me. "Isn't this cozy? Just the three of us girls, having a little chat."

Sophia tries to jerk her head away, and she’s about to say something when I theatrically unsheath my knife. The metallic scrape cuts through the tension like a hot wire through butter. She goes silent at that, her eyes widening.

"I’m going to be candid with you. After all, no secrets at a girls’ sleepover, yes? I’ve noticed a pattern that has me kinda worried."

I make sure to give Sophia one long, deliberate look at the knife, letting the moment stretch uncomfortably. The blade catches the torchlight. So very pretty.

"I have a fairly high opinion of myself. I’m starting to wonder if there’s some overconfidence holding me back, though."

I wave the knife in the air for every point I mention, as if I’m using it to keep count.

"First, I thought I’d successfully fooled Mireia. Oh, yes, it was me who captured her, by the way. But the bitch somehow saw through my act and nearly caved my head in with a rock."

I stand up, pacing the small confines of the shed, with the floorboards creaking beneath my boots.

"Second…" I stop in my tracks. The warden.

He made me suck his cock. He slapped me. He threatened me with mind destruction and brainwashing. Worst of all, he made me look like a fucking idiot.

"… you don’t need to know about the second instance, just take my word for it," I say, shaking my head and pointing the tip of my knife towards Sophia. "And now, you… you got the drop of me."

I look away from my captives, contemplating the blade as I spin my knife deftly between my fingers. "There are few things in this world I hate more than feeling outsmarted."

With one swift motion, I crouch and plant my knife in a gap between two floorboards. The swiftness of the movement, and the sudden sound, startle Ava and Sophia, which was the point of the exercise. It’s important to set the mood, after all.

"I don’t intend to be outsmarted again."

I fix my gaze on Sophia, my eyes boring into hers with an intensity that could melt steel. "So here's what's going to happen, blondie. You're going to tell me everything you know about your little rebel cell. Every hideout, every plan, every name. And you're going to do it now."

Sophia meets my stare defiantly, her jaw set in stubborn resolve. Even bound and bloodied, there's a fire in her eyes that refuses to be extinguished. It's almost admirable. Almost.

"Go fuck yourself," she spits.

I sigh theatrically, shaking my head as if dealing with a particularly petulant child. "Wrong answer."

In one fluid motion, I'm on her, straddling her prone form. My knife is in my hand again, the tip pressing against the soft skin under her chin. Sophia goes still beneath me, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Let me put this in terms you'll understand," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "You have two options here. Option one: you talk, and maybe, just maybe, I'll go easy on you when I'm done: I’ll deliver you to the re-education center with no further abuse to your person. Sure, you’ll be a virtually lobotomized hypnoslut by the time they’re done with you, but I won’t lift another finger on you. Just in case you’re feeling slow on the uptake… that’s the nice option."

I press the edge of the knife closer against her skin. "Option two: you keep up this brave rebel act, and I'll fuck you, right here, right in front of your girlfriend. I'll make her watch as I break you, piece by piece, until there's nothing left but a sobbing, shattered husk."

Sophia shudders beneath me, a choked whimper escaping her throat. But still, she remains silent.

I sit back, studying her face. There's fear in her eyes now, but also a grim determination. She's not going to break easily.

Eh, it’s fine by me. It’s not like I object to having to rape her. Best way to mindbreak a girl, truly… the regime can keep their drugs and the hypnosis and the mind control. I like to wrangle women the way nature intended.

I gently pull the hem of her shirt higher, exposing a tantalizing strip of pale skin above the waistband of her pants. I trail the tip of my knife along her stomach, relishing the way her muscles jump and twitch under my touch.

"Last chance, blondie," I say. "Talk, or I start cutting away these pesky clothes…"

Sophia sets her jaw stubbornly, glaring up at me with pure hatred. "Do your worst, you traitorous bitch," she snarls.

I grin wickedly. "Oh, I always do. It’s why I’m the best at this job."

I slip my knife under the hem of her shirt and slice upwards in one swift motion. The fabric parts with a ripping sound, revealing her tits. Sophia tries to wriggle away from me, but in her bound state, it only highlights the fact that she can’t get away.

I lean down, my lips brushing her ear. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you. By the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to stop. Begging me to just send you to the re-education center already…"

Sophia shudders beneath me. I sit back, savoring her emotions. What does she feel more intensely, I wonder? Disgust? Anguish? Fear? I’ll have to remember to ask her that, once I make her wet. I pinch her left nipple between thumb and index finger, giving it a playful tug. She flinches at my touch, turning her head away in disgust.

Just as I'm about to really get started, a new sound reaches my ears - muffled, desperate sobbing. I glance over at Ava, still hanging from the beam. She’s shaking her head frantically, whining into the gag like a scared puppy dog.

Interesting. I knew getting these two together might yield results. No matter how motivated, everyone has a point of failure…

I climb off Sophia and saunter over to Ava. I reach up and roughly yank the gag from her mouth. Ava gasps, sucking in air, before dissolving into wrenching sobs.

"Please," she chokes out between heaving breaths. "Please don't hurt her. I'll do anything. I'll tell you everything, just please…"

I arch an eyebrow. "Everything, you say?"

Ava nods frantically, tears running down her face. God, she looks pathetic. What a dumb, blubbering cow. I almost feel embarrassed for her.

But I keep those thoughts to myself. I'm a professional, after all.

"N-no, Ava, don't…!" Sophia says from the floor, her voice strained with desperation. "Don't tell her any-"

I roll my eyes, walking back to her with a sigh. I cut off her pathetic plea by pressing the sole of my boot down hard against her throat, right at the hollow. She gags and chokes, her bound hands coming up to claw uselessly at my leg as I bear down with my weight.

"Shut it, blondie. The adults are talking."

Under my boot, Sophia writhes and sputters. Her fingernails scrape against the leather of my boot, but I barely feel it. I keep the pressure steady, not enough to crush her windpipe, but enough to make breathing an agonizing chore.

I turn my attention back to Ava, theatrically gesturing for her to keep talking.

"By all means, puppy girl. Please continue. You’ll tell me everything, you said?"

Ava nods frantically, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "Yes, yes, I swear! Just please, don't hurt Sophia anymore. Don’t… rape her. I'll tell you whatever you want to know!"

I contemplate Sophia, a harmless worm pinned under my boot. She looks so good down there. "Interesting choice. The girlfriend, over the cause."

Under my sole, Sophia makes a strangled noise that might be a protest, but it's hard to tell. Her struggles are getting weaker as she understands the futility of her situation, her clawing hands falling limply to her sides.

I turn back to Ava, cocking my head expectantly. "Well? I'm waiting. Start talking."

And talk she does. It's like a dam has burst, the words pouring out of her in a jumbled, frantic stream. She tells me everything - the location of their main hideout, the names of their leaders, their plans for future strikes against the regime. She even gives up the secret codes they use to communicate, the dead drop locations where they leave messages for each other.

It's a veritable gold mine of information, and I drink it all in greedily, committing every detail to memory. With this knowledge, I could single-handedly bring down their entire operation. The warden will be thrilled. Hell, I might even get a promotion out of this.

As Ava talks, her voice grows hoarser, her sobs more wrenching. It's clear that each word is tearing her apart inside, that she's betraying everything she believes in.

There’s some beauty in the notion that the last, genuine emotion she feels before she’s mind-controlled into simpering female domesticity is the annihilation of utter self-betrayal.

I’m an artist, truly.

When she finally falls silent, her head hanging in utter defeat, I lift my boot from Sophia's throat. Sophia gasps and coughs, curling onto her side as she sucks in ragged breaths.

I walk over to Ava,who dangles limply from the beam, her body spent from the emotional toll of her confession. I trail a finger along her cheek. "Thank you, puppy girl. You've been very, very helpful."

Ava flinches from my touch, squeezing her eyes shut as fresh tears leak out. "I did what you asked. Now please, just leave Sophia alone."

I tilt my head to the side, pretending to consider her plea with the seriousness it clearly doesn’t deserve. "Hmm… you're right. I did say I wouldn't rape Sophia if you talked."

Relief flashes across Ava's face. But it's short-lived as I lean in close, my breath hot against her ear.

"But sweetie… I never said anything about not raping you."

Ava's eyes fly open, wide with horror. "No, wait! That's not-"

I silence her with a harsh slap across the face. Her head snaps to the side, a pained yelp escaping her lips.

"Shut up, you fucking idiot. Seriously, who makes a deal like this?" I grab her chin roughly, forcing her to meet my gaze. "You’re so dumb that if you got infected with a brain-eating parasite, it would starve. When I drag you to the re-education center, they won’t know what to do with you, because you can’t possibly get any dumber than you already are."

I glance over at Sophia, who is watching us with a mixture of horror and impotent rage. "At least your girlfriend actually got the drop on me. You’re supposed to be the tough scary female rebels that are gonna topple the patriarchy? Give me a fucking break. You should ask me to rape you, really, as an apology for having to experience the cringe you and your little cause radiate."

My words are landing on Ava like they’re physical blows. The stupid slut is squirming in her bonds, whimpering pathetically as I run my hands over her body. I slip a hand under her shirt, my fingers finding the warm, soft skin of her stomach. Ava flinches at my touch, trying to squirm away, but there's nowhere for her to go. She's completely at my mercy, and we both know it.

I take my time exploring her body, relishing every shudder and whimper I elicit. I pinch and twist her nipples until they respond, hardening under my fingers. I rub her roughly through her pants, feeling the heat radiate from her sex. I trail kisses down her collar bone, gently raking at the hollow of her throat with my teeth.

Ava bites her lip, clearly trying to hold back her reactions, but she can't hide the way her breathing quickens, the way her cheeks flush with unwilling arousal.

It's fascinating, really, how the body can betray the mind so easily.

"Look at you. Getting turned on by your own rape. You act all proud, all tough, but really, you’re only a dumb slut, aren't you?"

"N-no…" she says, even as her hips twitch traitorously towards my touch. "I don't want this, I don't…"

"Liar! We both know you're going to cum for me eventually. Might as well enjoy the ride."

I continue my ministrations, rubbing and stroking her through her pants until the fabric is damp with her arousal. Ava is panting now, her face flushed, her eyes glazed with a mix of shame and unwanted pleasure. This, right here, is the best feeling humans are capable of. Power is the feeling of resistance being overcome.

Power is this.

When I judge her sufficiently primed, I yank her pants down to her ankles in one swift motion. Ava yelps in shock as the cool air hits her heated flesh. I kneel between her spread legs, taking a moment to admire the sight of her exposed cunt.

"The word rape is so generic, really. Rape is a selfish act: I take sexual relief from you by force, because I can. What I do is more… refined. Making your victim enjoy her own rape has a certain… impact on her. It changes her."

I run a finger along her slit, not applying any real pressure, just enough to make her body react. Ava’s hips jerk when I give her clit the faintest of brushes.

Her cunt is well ahead of her mind on this one, as always. It knows who her master is, even if she doesn’t yet.

"You see, the regime thinks they can break women quickly with their drugs and hypnosis. But real breaking takes time, takes effort. It takes an understanding of human nature. When a woman cums from her own rape, it’s a confession. It’s her body admitting that it wants this, that it needs this. That she is complicit in her own downfall."

I rub her clit with my thumb, firmly and insistently. She’s panting more ad more, sweat beading on her skin. Her whimpers of fear and violation begin to morph into little moans of treasonous arousal. Unwelcome, unprompted… and unstoppable.

"You should be grateful, you know. Most women don’t get this kind of attention. Most just get hauled off and processed. But you… you get to be an art project."

I slide a finger inside her. Her cunt welcomes me with a soft wet sound, even as her mouth feebly tries to deny me. A second finger soon joins the first, and as I begin to fingerfuck her captive pussy, I lower my mouth to her clit. I flick my tongue out, just once, and her whole body convulses as if struck by a lightning bolt.

I steal a quick glance up at her. Her hands, uselessly bound, clench into tight fists. Her eyes have a glassy sheen covering them, they’re unfocused. She has no leverage to do it, or I’m sure her hips would be bucking towards my mouth.

"I want you to do one thing for me," I say as I pump my fingers in and out of her cunt at increasing speed. "When you’re in the center, being pumped full of chemicals, listening to the hypno loops, all that jazz… I want you to think of me. To remember this moment. I want your last pre-hypno memory to be me. To be the fact that I broke you first."

Enough talking. Time for the main event. As my fingers methodically and unhurriedly fuck her into submission, I start working her clit with my tongue, circling it lazily, teasingly. Ava’s body betrays her more with each passing second. She’s unravelling around my fingers and under my tongue. She’s becoming unwound.

I glance behind me to see Sophia’s expression. Her eyes wide with a mixture of anger and helplessness. She can’t look away, and I know that every second of this is burning into her memory. This is as much for her as it is for Ava.

My victim is so wet now, so aroused as her body prepares for the inevitable. I lap at her with long, slow strokes, and her legs start to tremble.

I could make her cum right now if I wanted to. A few more strokes, a little more pressure, and she’d explode. But that would be too easy, too quick. I want her to linger on the precipice, to dangle over the abyss of her own betrayal. I want her to feel every second of this.

I pull back slightly, just enough to speak, my breath hot against her wet, swollen cunt. "You know it’s coming, don’t you? That sweet release. Your body craves it, even if your mind doesn’t. You’re so close, Ava. So fucking close."

Her whimpers are almost words, her pleas mingling with the sounds of her arousal. "Please… no… don’t…"

I cut her off by sucking hard on her clit, and her whole body jerks as if electrified. Ava’s head slams back, her mouth open in a silent scream. I can feel her muscles tensing, contracting, her orgasm coiling tight within her like a spring.

"That's it, you dumb slut. Cum for me. Cum from being raped in front of your girlfriend. Show her what a desperate, shameless whore you really are."

Ava sobs brokenly, tears streaming down her face even as her hips buck erratically, chasing her impending orgasm in spite of herself. Her cunt clenches rhythmically around my plunging fingers, so slick and hot, ready to explode.

With a final hard suck to her clit and a deft twist of my fingers, I send her hurtling over the edge. Ava stiffens and then convulses violently, wailing as her climax crashes through her. Her cunt spasms wildly, gushing and spurting around my fingers as I continue to pump them, prolonging her shattering orgasm.

Finally, she collapses into the ropes suspending her, hanging limp and shaking in her bonds. I rise slowly, licking her cunt juices from my lips with a wicked smile. Ava can't even look at me, her face burning with humiliation, her chest heaving with broken sobs.

I glance over at Sophia, who stares at us in horrified silence, tears streaming down her own face. The despair and impotent rage in her eyes is almost as good as getting an orgasm myself.

I turn back to Ava, drinking in the sight of her shattered, violated form. She hangs limply in her bonds, her head bowed, her body still shaking with the aftershocks of her forced orgasm. Sweat glistens on her skin, mingling with the tears that stream down her face.

I grab her chin roughly, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her eyes are dull, unfocused, as if she's retreated somewhere deep inside herself. Good. That's where I want her.

"You did so well, puppy girl. Such a good little slut, cumming on command like that. You're going to fit right in at the re-education center."

Ava flinches at my words, a fresh sob escaping her throat. I release her chin and she immediately looks away, unable to bear the sight of me.

Life is good.

I walk back over to Sophia, crouching down beside her.

"Enjoyed the show, blondie?"

Sophia glares at me, her eyes burning with hatred. "You fucking monster," she spits. "I swear, if it's the last thing I do, I'll-"

I cut her off with a sharp slap across the face.

"Ahh. Slapping uppity bitches into silence never gets old, truly. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and I fear it’s time we wrapped up this sleepover. Unlike you girls, I have work to do."

With the information Ava has given me, I can finally move against the rebel cell. I need to act fast, before they realize their security has been compromised.

I stand, brushing the dirt from my knees. I retrieve my backpack from where I left it, rummaging through its contents until I find what I'm looking for - a small vial filled with a colorless, odorless sedative. I’d never be so crass as to use it on a girl before I’ve subdued her the good old fashioned way, but I’m also a practical gal at heart.

Right now, I just need these two to go to sleep long enough for me to deliver them to the warden in pristine condition. Well, relatively speaking.

"Don't worry, blondie. This won't hurt a bit," I say with a smirk. Before she can react, I grab her jaw, forcing her mouth open, and upend the vial's contents down her throat.

Sophia coughs and sputters, trying to spit the liquid out, but I clamp my hand over her mouth and nose, forcing her to swallow. Her eyes widen in panic as she realizes what I've done, and she thrashes in her bonds, trying desperately to break free.

But it's useless. The sedative works fast, and I can see it taking effect almost immediately. Sophia's struggles grow weaker, her eyelids drooping as the drug courses through her system. She mumbles something incoherent, her words slurring together, before her eyes roll back in her head and she goes limp.

One down.

I stand and turn my attention to Ava, who's watching me with a mixture of fear and despair. She knows what's coming, but she's helpless to stop it.

"P-please…" she whimpers as I approach, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "No more…"

"No more," I say in agreement, cupping her face in my hand. "I’m not going to rape you again, pinky promise. Just drink this, and you won’t have to worry about anything ever again: the center will see to that. Isn’t that beautiful?"

Ava shakes her head weakly, but I can see the fight draining out of her. She's broken, shattered, a husk of her former self. The fire in her eyes has been extinguished, replaced by a dull, hopeless resignation.

It's beautiful, in its own way. The complete and utter destruction of a human spirit. And I did that. Me. With my own two hands.

It almost makes up for the humiliation of Sophia surprising me. Almost.

I bring the vial to Ava's lips, tipping its remaining contents into her mouth. She doesn't even try to resist, swallowing the sedative without protest.

What a good girl.

Her eyes flutter closed almost immediately, her body going slack in its bonds as the drug drags her under. I step back, admiring my handiwork. Information, extracted. A lead for the next phase of my hunt. Two more feminists, unconscious and helpless, ready for transport.

But I'm not quite done yet.

I retrieve a pen and paper from my backpack.

I scribble out a quick note, my handwriting messy in my haste.

"Dearest Warden," it reads. "Please accept this humble gift as a token of my esteem. Two rebel sluts, trussed up and ready for processing. Enjoy breaking them in. I know I certainly did."

I chuckle to myself as I fold the note and tuck it into the waistband of Ava's pants, making sure it's clearly visible. Next, I pull out my radio, a battered old thing that's seen me through countless hunts. I flip to a frequency monitored by bounty hunters, if used only sparingly, and pause with my finger over the transmit button.

What I'm about to do goes against every instinct I have as a huntress.

We're a competitive bunch, always looking to one-up each other, to snag the biggest prizes for ourselves. Giving up a catch, even a small one, is against my instincts.

But I’m playing a longer game here. Sure, I’d get two months out of the cage for delivering these two sluts, but I’ve got to keep my eye on the prize. The cell itself. I can’t afford to waste time hauling these two back to the center myself.

Besides, it’s not so bad. Favors are exchanged between bounty hunters, even if cooperation is about as frequent as betrayal. What goes around comes around. Some day, whoever picks up Ava and Sophia might leave a freebie for me in return. With a final sigh, I press the button and transmit the coordinates to this shed on the radio.

I make sure to emphasize the "ready for pickup" part. I don't want any confusion. These sluts are a gift, free for the taking. First come, first served.

The first light of dawn is just beginning to paint the eastern sky a pale gray as I slip out of the shed, leaving Ava and Sophia hanging unconscious in their bonds. The cool morning air is just the thing after a night of fights and rapes. But more importantly, a night of progress. I take a deep breath, enjoying the dew in the air, the freshness of the river water nearby.

I walk away from the shed, staying on this bank of the river, well away from Green Meadows and its lovely denizens. My next destination is far to the north. With the information Ava so magnanimously provided, I finally have a solid lead on the rebel cell’s main hideout.

An abandoned factory complex, partially built underground, nestled in the foothills of the mountains. It’ll be quite a trek from here — all the more reason why leaving Ava and Sophia to a lesser bounty hunter was necessary. It doesn’t bother me, really. The damp grass muffles my footsteps, the birds are singing, and the gentle burbling of the water is so relaxing.

What a lovely day.

It’s only when enough light bleeds through the darkness that I stop in realization, slapping a hand against my forehead. Ugghh, I can be such a forgetful idiot sometimes!

I stare in annoyance at all the dust mucking the leather of my boots, and curse myself for overlooking something so obvious.

I forgot to have Ava and Sophia lick my boots.

TO BE CONTINUED…