Abject in the Dust

Chapter 22 - A Force of Nature

"She is not to be released." The wheelchair which Sam was strapped into came to an abrupt halt on the parquet wooden flooring in the large entranceway of the onetime manor house.

"Of course." One of the four women stood in front of Sam stepped forward and waved her hand dismissively at the cult member who had wheeled Sam from her hospital confines – seemingly finding every rut and hole in the paving that he could to torture Sam's spine. Curses and threats had only seemed to increase the frequency of the jolts to her back.

The door behind Sam closed with a thud as the four women moved closer to encircle their prey. Snaps and snarls from Sam did little to prevent their poking and prodding and pulling away at her clothes to reveal what lay beneath. And try as Sam might, the bonds which held her tight against the wheelchair would not give an inch. Their curiosity finally sated, the three women to her front moved to a corner of the large room and huddled together. Even at a distance, it was obvious to Sam that anger grew as gestures became more exaggerated and furtive glances back in her direction turned into stares of hatred.

"They fear you." A voice whispered from behind. A silky, sultry voice which caressed every part of Sam as it found its way into her ears. "And with good cause." The hot breath felt heavy against Sam's neck as it enveloped her like a warm blanket.

"Why?" Sam croaked as she tried to turn her head against the restraints to no avail.

"Because you are younger and prettier than they are." A voice whispered as a face came into view. A beautiful face by any measure or standard, set atop of a long neck which begged to be caressed.

"Why would that make them fear me?" Sam gulped as she tried to regain her composure.

"Because there are only ever four." The woman glided into Sam's lap and crossed her long slender legs as she nestled her head against Sam's shoulder.

"Four of what?" She asked uneasily as the woman started to intertwine the ends of her own golden locks with Sam's raven black hair.

"Four of us to serve our mistress."

"Your mistress?"

"The one who had you brought her, silly. She is your mistress and you are her ... toy.

"I'm nobody's toy!" Sam snarled angrily.

"Now, now!" The woman gently tapped Sam on the end of her nose. "There is no need to get angry with me. I have only ever been nice to you, haven't I?"

"What do you want?" Sam asked with a sneer, as the sweet smell of the woman's hair crept through her lungs.

"Me? Nothing." The woman replied with a chirp. "They, on the other hand." Pointing to the three equally beautiful women huddled in the corner. "They want you dead." Sam visibly tensed. "Oh, don't worry." The woman said as she placed a hand gently on Sam's cheek and kissed her neck. "They won't dare touch you."

"Why not?" Sam asked hesitantly as she embraced the lingering sensation of the kiss to her neck.

"Because that would ensure their death. Although ..." The woman tapped a slender finger against her chin. "Personally, I think death would be better than abandonment."

"Abandonment?"

"There are only ever four, silly." The woman tapped the end of Sam's nose again. "One in – one out. My mistress has already decided that you are in. The only question now is who she will let go – who she will cast aside." The woman pressed her lips against Sam's ear. "Which toy she no longer wants to play with." She whispered.

"Maybe it will be you?" Sam gulped as the hot breath titillated the hairs on her neck.

"You doubt that I can please my mistress?" The woman asked in a sultry tone as she flickered her tongue against Sam's earlobe. Sam fought hard to think of any reply which did not involve the word 'No', but words failed her as the woman completed her seduction. "Anyway." The woman sat bolt upright in Sam's lap. "As pretty as you are, you are not prettier than me." The woman traced her hands gently across Sam's face.