

Kidnapped By The Militia
For the Purposes Of This Story, My Collaborator Is Called Bob
Part 1-A - Bob
The three young women continued down the trail, arms pumping as they enjoyed the cool weather in the remote trail they had found. They had run for two miles, according to a map that the oldest had found they still had a mile to run before turning around.
The three girls were rising stars for the local women's soccer team, all were on the fast track to full-paid scholarships. The oldest was Christen, she was a junior in college. With brown cinnamon skin and chocolate hair, she was gorgeous.
Had a petite chest, but her ass was immaculate, with long toned legs and a toned core and angelic face.
Behind her was Mallory, a freshmen in college, liked Christen she was mixed, with brown skin, a pretty face, and nice body. Behind them was Emily, a pretty ginger with a very nice bust, freckled face, and athletic thighs. She was in high school and looking to graduate and play soccer in college soon.
Jogging for another moment Christen paused as they came to a rocky clearing. In the distance Christen could see some hills and birds flying in the air. “Wow, look at that Mal.†Christen said as they looked over a rocky flat area that lead to a river.
“Its real nice.†Mal replied smiling as she looked over it. She caught her breath as they paused. It was a cool day, but like Christen she wore a sports bra and spandex running shorts as they warmed up quickly while running. The pretty ginger behind them had one a tanktop and volleyball shorts.
“Man, nice run but Im enjoying our break.†Emily said walking up to them. Catching their breath they walked along the river for a moment.
Enjoying the view. “Nice and quiet out here, real remote.†She muttered.
Christen nodded. “Yeah, we saw it on a map and decided to check it out.†The beautiful soccer player said as turned a corner in the clearing.
Mal smirked. “Yeah almost too quiet.†She said with a giggle, before stopping as they finished turning the corner. In front of them were four pickup trucks parked on the rocky clearing. Around ten, maybe a dozen men were hanging out. A couple had rifles they were showing to each other, a couple of others had brought fishing rods and seemed to be heading for the river. The girls froze as a couple of them spotted them.
A couple had well groomed beards, most were shaven, all were fit. If the girls weren’t nervous about being out numbered more than 3-1 in a rural area they would even admit that they were all more than handsome. But what worried with was the surprised look in their eyes as they spotted the girls.
“Umm.†Christen muttered nervously as one walked over. As Emily backed up one raised a rifle at them, the girls gasped and threw up their arms.
"Don't shoot!" Mal cried out. One of the men, looked to be about 30, clean shaven and handsome walked over with a pistol in their hand.
"Now now, what are you three pretty ladies doing all the way out here?" He asked smiling, walking around the petrified girls, admiring their bodies. They had great asses and sexy tummies.
"We- we're just here to run the trail we found, we’re on the local soccer team." Christen said terrified. "That's all I swear."
“I ain’t ever seen anyone running this trail.†The other man said smirking. “Especially not girls as pretty as you three.â€
The man smirked and nodded. "What they say could very well be true." He said taking out some rope and motioning some other militia members over.
"But we need to restrain you three until we can verify that this story of your's is true.
"Pl- please we're telling the truth!" Mal pleaded as she felt him yank back her wrists and start to tightly tie them together. Another militia member walked over to Christen, her eyes were wide as she saw Mal have her elbows tied painfully together as well, jutting her chest out.
"Wa- wait you dont need to." She said, the man was 6' 2" at least and was handsome but physically imposing.
"Shut up." He muttered, roughly turning her around and tying up the beautiful dusky damsel. Christen grunted in pain as her wrists and elbows were tightly tied together. Herpetite chest pushing out, looking over her shoulder she saw the same being done to Emily. The man ran a hand over her midriff and squeezed.
"Stop! You cant do this!" Christen protested, fear in her voice. Emily yelped in shock as her nice chest was roughly squeezed.
The first man, his name was John walked over from Mal to Christen with a large bowie knife. Christen gasped and sucked in her gut as it put the tip near the skin of her belly. "You two, I assume you come from mixed families?†Christen and Mal nervously nodded. “Well we know what that makes you two.†He said looking at his friends. “I can't believe we have a pair of black girls trying to tell us how to act!"
"Excuse me!" Emily said in anger, even while scared. Mal let out a moan of fear as she realized they were dealing with racists. The ginger was enraged and tried to defend her friends even while her arms were tightly tied.
John walked over to her. “Oh she’s going to be a fun one ain’t she Wallace.†He said as the man holding her nodded, a hand slipping underneath her tanktop even as she tried to fight him off. Mal and Christen had tears in their eyes, terrified of the militiamen. John slapped Emily right across the face, making her gasp. “You see girls, y'all are in our territory. We are a militia that makes sure our pure, natural place isn't infected with undue influences. Such as vandalizing minorities, or ideas, such as equality for all, or that women, especially a non-white woman, thinks its their place to tear talk back or even forbid, talk down to a white man!" The girl's stomachs dropped as they listened to the handsome but cruel man's speech.
“Please.†Christen pleaded, almost in a whisper. “Please just let us go, I promise you that we will leave immediately.†John chuckled as the rest of the men came over.
He walked over to her, looking her up and down. “My, you are beautiful, looks are never the issue with yall, and well, there’s always uses for a pretty brown skinned woman, just have to put them in their proper place.†Christen sobbed as the men started to catcall the bound girls.
John walked over, wrapping an arm around Christen’s waist. “I’m going to enjoy you.†He said into her ear.
She gasped, sobbing. “Please! Please let us gommmphh!†A man walked over and placed duct tape across her mouth. Making John smile.
“Ill be quiet I promismmmphh!†Mal said as her face was plastered with tape.
Emily fought harder. “No dont you dare don-ugghh!†Wallace sent a punch into her gut, making her fall to her knees as tape was then placed across her lips.
“Lets load them up boys!†John said as the men chaired. The girls legs felt like jello as they were forced to walk towards the trucks, trying to escape, but their bondage was painfully tight and held firm as the men groped their bodies and slapped their asses to get them moving quicker. Sobbing the girls were split up between the three trucks.
“Lets go!†The man named Jackson who held on to Mal ordered her as she was pulled into one of the trucks. Christen tried to follow.
“Not you beautiful.†John said into her ear. “You’re with me, want to get to know you better on the ride back.†Christen closed her eyes and screamed into her gag as John grabbed her waist and pulled her into the back of the pickup truck.
John smiled as he rode back in the truck with Christen Press. Bound and gagged she couldn't do anything for the entire ride as his hands ran over almost every inch of her body. She was beyond beautiful, and he loved the feeling of her tanned cinnamon skin in his hands. Christen lightly sobbed at his touch, that just got him hard. "Im going to be using you a lot." He said as he lightly tickled her sides for much of the ride, making her go ballistic with her squirming.
It was an almost fourty-five minuet ride back to the militia’s clubhouse. Looked like a large and gated two story house from the outside with an attic, but it also had a very large basement where they could have some fun. Wallace got out and smiled as Samson spoke to him. "Disabled the girls cellphones location tracking, actually glitched it to show them leaving and going back the way they came.â€
Wallace chuckled. "Very nice. Now, lets get them out. Lets go boys!" He said as John stepped out of the truck with Christen. Mal and Emily weren’t far behind from the other truck, sobbing. Emily’s tanktop had been ripped vertically and it was clear that hands had been going down Mallory’s shorts.
The girls were taken inside, it looked like a rural bar, with a couple of pool tables and a HD TV in the corner. There were also pictures and confederate flags on the wall. They were then taken to the basement, that's where they screamed. All around them was bondage equipment, xframes, shackles, ropes; along with a rack, tables; not to mention the torture devices. A bunch of bullwhips, a catoninetails, crops, studded paddles, electrosticks, even a well for water torture. If the soccer players weren't being carry they would of collasped in fear. Instead they were placed on their knees.
John came in, dragging Christen along. “Man they are beautiful.†Another man named Drake said as he admired the girls. “These two seemed rather mixed, afro latina?†He wondered aloud looking at Christen.
John shrugged. "Doesn't matter, latinas, mixed, black, all should know their place serving us." John said grinning.
"Mmmmphh." They moaned moaned in fear. Mal was in shock, sobbing from her ordeal.
"Now." John spoke up. "This is what you need to know. As I said earlier this militia defends traditional values; not this absurd thoughts about equality. Skin matters to us, and you all should serve us white men." He cupped Emily's chin. "And you are clearly a traitor, and will have the same fate." Smiling he looked up as the girls were terrified.
"Forget your old lives, no one knows where you are anymore. You are all our slaves. Our property. You girls get no say, you have no rights. We own you. We'll tie you up, tickle you, torture you, rape you, all we want. We own these hot bodies now, not you." John picked up Christen by her chocolate hair.
"Mmmphhesessmmph!" She pleaded as she was dragged over to a pulley. Her arms unbound, only to be immediately shackled above her head.
"You're going to watch." John said groping Christen's body, pulling down her shorts. "We can be very brutal if any of you try to be rebellious. Know your place now, beneath us. Our property. Christen is going to endure it as an example, don't forget it." He said picking up a catoninetails and swinging it harshly against her belly. She screamed, and he was just getting started.
Part 1-B - RopingRingers
As Christen writhed against the glistening steel shackles locked around her wrists, twisting right and left to try and avoid the cruel lashes her captor was dealing out, Mallory and Emily watched in horror. John didn't seem to care where the whip made contact, rather, he was content to ensure Christen had not a moments respite from the stinging assault. The other girls were in another kind of hell - the other men had swarmed around them and their bodies were awash with roaming hands. They tried to pull away, pleading through the tape still plastered across their lips. Drake knelt down in front of Mallory, looking into her eyes for a second, before backhanding her hard across the face. She fell to the floor, tears spilling out from her eyes as she did.
'I'd wipe that look off your face, bitch!' Drake said nastily. 'You whores belong to us now.'
As if to prove his point, Emily looked from the fallen figure of her friend over to the still-bucking naked form of Christen, and she felt her stomach drop as she saw John finally stop lashing her, Christen slumping against her bonds, tears streaming down her face, only to pull out something made of glistening silver from his jacket pocket. John walked around behind Christen and, grabbing her roughly, leant down and crammed what Emily now realized was a large butt plug, hard and unlubricated into Christen's very tight backside. She screamed into her gag as she felt the cruel intrusion, bucking wildly, but she could go nowhere.
John seemed to enjoy her reaction, as he walked back around, and ripped the grey tape off her lips. 'Please! Please stop this!' Christen immediately began to beg, sobbing.
'Please, we won't tell anybody what happened! Just please, let us -' She was interrupted by a hard punch in the stomach.
Gagging and coughing, her legs collapsed beneath her, the cold manacles cutting harshly into her as her wrists took her full weight. John grabbed her by the throat, dragging her back onto her feet. 'Now, you listen good, girlie,' he hissed in a low voice.
'You black bitches aren't human. For most of history, society fucken got that! But now, you bottom-feeding scum think you are EQUAL to the white man? No. You are nothin', but foreign vermin, and you belong to US now. So stop your fucken whining, and settle in, darlin'. Ain't nothin' that I love more, than the sound of a sub-human's screams. And where we are,' John said, standing and indicating around himself.
'No-one will EVER hear, or find you here. And in a minute, I'll show you how I know. But first, boys!' John turned to face Drake and the other assembled Nazis. 'Why don't we get these other two more comfortable?'
'Mnnnnghhjm! Nnnmmnoonnmm!' A cascade of muffled begging came from behind the two girl's gags, but the men around them just laughed and began to drag them over towards the other bondage equipment spread around the room. Emily screamed as she felt her shorts being torn away from her skin, her pale white legs almost glowing in the dull light of the room. The tight sports-girl underwear she wore made the men around her whoop and wolf-whistle - Emily felt herself blush with embarrassment. Her tanktop, already torn down the front, was then pulled and cut completely away from her, exposing her ample and firm chest. She felt someone cutting the ropes around her arms away, and the moment she was free, she spun and sunk her knee into the man directly behind her. As he fell in a crumpled mess, she felt an arm wrap around her neck from behind. It was Drake. She struggled hard but it was no use as she felt more arms grabbing her, dragging her back up against the wooden rack. She fought as hard as she could but it was no use and soon, she was locked tightly in place, her arms pulled up high above her head, accentuating her breasts even more, and her legs were pulled tight, unable to move an inch. The wood, she felt, was rough and coarse against her skin.
While Emily had been struggling and fighting to escape, Mallory had seemingly fallen into a state of total shock, offering no resistance as Wallace grabbed her by the arm and began leading her away. John noticed this, and after the amusement of the other slaves struggle wore off, he walked over to where Wallace had taken her, near one of the X-frames. John looked at her.
'You seem to have surrendered more than your friends.' Mallory looked at him.
'I just don't want to be hurt any more than you are going to already.' John chuckled.
'It's a good strategy. We aren't sadists, you sub-humans don't deserve pointless suffering, no more than any animal. I don't kick Bruce for no reason, but if he pisses on the carpet, you bet your ass I kick that dog flying. As such, if you pets don't follow direction, you'll suffer discipline. But, loyalty in animals should be rewarded.'
John leant in. 'So if you're loyal to me, perhaps your stay here can be more pleasant. Inform me anything the girls might cook up behind our backs, escape attempts, stuff like that.' As Wallace tightly strapped Mallory's lithe frame into the X-frame, before cutting away her clothes, leaving her in nothing but a tight black thong. John raised his eyebrows. 'You run in that?' She nodded. John laughed as he turned away. 'Whore.'
He walked to the centre of the room, stood where he could, with a simple turn of the head, see any one of the three bound girls. He smiled at the sight, Emily was writhing valiantly against her bonds but of course, it achieved nothing. Christen stood in place, her arms still manacled tightly above her. Her breasts, while small, were very nice, accentuated by her position. Mallory just hung, limp. Pathetic girl. But, they make the best moles. John thought to himself. He addressed them all.
'So, girls, I'm sure you're thinking, sure, how isolated could this be? This is America right, gotta be someone around.' He smiled. 'Let me introduce you to Ashleigh.' John nodded, and one of the men quickly left the room, returning a few minutes later with another girl.
The girl was blonde, five foot nine and a decent 36D chest. Her legs were shapely and her eyes vivid blue, but she looked broken. Her eyes had a dazed vacant look, her skin was blotchy and marred by marks and scars. She barely reacted to the collar locked tightly around her neck being harshly tugged.
She didn't seem to react or even register the three bound prisoners before her. Christen and Mallory didn't recognize her, but after a few moments, Emily's eyes widened and she began to scream and moan into her gag, collapsing limp against her bonds, sobbing. John smiled, he hadn't expected THAT.
'It looks like your friend recognizes Ash here.' John laughed, before speaking. 'This is Ashleigh Garson, and she went missing three years ago. I take it you knew her there, Em?' John laughed cruelly. 'No-one found her here, not in three years. And no-one, will find you.'
To be Continued...……..