The Investigative Reporter 6: The Price Of Freedom, part 1

(story continues from The Investigative Reporter 5: Escape Plan)

Part 6: The Price Of Freedom, part 1

The days after Beth's liberating run to the train station were possibly her worst at Grandview. A surprise bunkhouse inspection after the girls assembled for the morning led to the discovery of the pencil she had hidden at the train station, still covered in the dirt she had stuck it into, and impossible to be where it allegedly was found without another's involvement. Potentially the entire bunkhouse was in trouble, but somebody was sending a personal message to her, and she guessed that man was a smoker!

The man who found it, or more accurately placed it there, was the same one who ran the other team of girls that Beth's had embarrassed in their race, and whom their driver's sadistic wife had flirted with for the purpose of proving a point about how much work the girls could be compelled to do with the proper motivation. The ten girls had been made to stand in a line outside their bunkhouse while the search was conducted, and when the contraband pencil was "found" each was shown it and asked to step forward to claim it and spare their bunk mates the collective punishment for the discovery.

Beth couldn't remember the punishment for contraband, or if she would receive double due to this technically being her second offense. She suspected the worst punishment she would likely receive would be getting hanged from the sycamore tree once again by her driver while it received her twenty lashes. A far greater concern to her was that somebody knew someone from their bunkhouse had visited the train station late at night, and if she came forward she was sure to be watched extra carefully by that person at least.

Despite the potential complication to her plans, she really only had one choice as she would be receiving her share of the lashes no matter who stepped forward.

Beth took one step forward silently when shown the dirty pencil, and the chain was snapped once again to her harness, but not by her compassionate driver. The man who "found" the pencil held the other end of the chain, and Beth knew he both used the whip regularly, and had no love for her and her team. She was dragged to the tree, although she didn't resist, and once again hoisted by the chain attached to her harness until her boots just touched the dirt beneath.

The teams were then excused to the chow hall as the man set to apply Beth's punishment, and this time as well a rolled leather gag was presented to her. She opened her mouth with little choice, the leather there for her to bear down instead of biting off a piece of her tongue. It was a large roll and she had to open her pretty mouth wider than what felt natural to her, suspecting that this time the gag was not just for appearances.

Beth's arms were grasped by the man, and each was attached to the chain she was suspended from with it's own leather strap, her arms pinned high overhead and unable to protect the more tender parts of her petite body. She was then hoisted higher, and when her booted legs cleared the dirt they were manacled together and separated by a single link of chain, after the man bent her legs at the knee and inspected the shoes on her tiny boots.

"I suspected it was you all along by your tiny shoe prints and incredible run. The farrier goes to great lengths to vary the set of his nails, as well as the size and shape of the shoes, giving each girl a somewhat unique track if the soil is firm enough. We keep the boot assignments on file for just such occurrences, just like your fingerprints and harness numbers. Those tracks also led me to the pencil you hid, after your attempt to reach the mail bag to presumably send a letter home."

"Attempt." Beth wondered if that meant the man didn't know Beth was successful in her plans, or was he just playing with her for his own sadistic motives?

"I had thought you were going to try to hop the train as it came through town, Lord knows you could have with how fast you can run! We have a more pressing problem, you and I, as it is obvious to all of us that you just plain don't belong here. I am assuming you pissed off some judge, or other powerful man who thought this would be an amusing thing to do to you, or one who just wanted to teach you some kind of big city lesson. You have courage to match your intelligence without a doubt, and are certainly pleasant enough on the eye, and under different circumstances we could no doubt have a wonderful conversation. We also have all enjoyed your antics with the snake, even though she seems to get the best of you time and again."

"Back to our little problem, I could easily call your nocturnal run an attempted escape, and after fifty lashes with the full camp in attendance we could easily send what's left of you to a much worse place with a much longer sentence. A tiny one like yourself wouldn't fair so well in that environment, of that I am certain. Ironically the kindest thing I can do for you at this point is to give you your twenty lashes for second offense contraband and call it a day, but it would bother me to do such a thing to one like yourself for purely personal reasons... Quite simply, if you rat me out, I'll rat you out."

Beth received her twenty lashes from the man, and she grunted into her gag and bored down on it with each one, but so gently applied that it could have been delivered by one of the wealthy older men who financed her education as rough foreplay to stir up their aggressions. There were stinging marks on her body for the entire camp to see where the strap was allowed to wrap around her, but nothing like what he could have done if he had truly wanted to inflict serious pain and damage.

The rest of the week the girls were worked harder than ever with the precedent the snake like evil wife had set, but Beth knew it wouldn't be her problem much longer. She had allowed eight days for her plan to be set in motion, even though that seemed like an eternity, but that likely meant at least one more humiliating service to the randy girls after their group shower...

When that happened, (much as Beth expected), there wasn't even the pretense of resistance from Beth or Tracy, and each of the girls were easily subdued as their arms were bound to their bodies by a bed sheet encircling each of their waists. Pillow cases were folded and used to blindfold both girls as well so that there could be no hard feelings for any roughness any of the anonymous girls felt the need to apply, just as with the other times.

The eight other girls in the team took their turns with both Beth and Tracy, but were much more aggressive this time as their treatment at their drivers hand had become so as well. Pulled hair, a pinched nipple, or even a slapped butt were used to encourage the trapped girls to perform beyond expectations, and here Tracy received most of the "encouragement" as she didn't have the experience with such things that Beth brought to the table, or in this case, the floor. The blindfolds didn't help soften the girls hearts either, and in fact encouraged aggressions not likely if their identities were known to the girls beneath them.

When the other girls of the team were eventually sated, several of the larger ones decided that Beth and Tracy should be "allowed" to service each other as well. If this was intended as a reward for their selfless service to the team, (however coerced they were into selflessly serving their bunk mates), or intended as entertainment for the exhausted but not ready to sleep girls, who knows.

Beth, being the lighter of the two, was placed on top of the exhausted Tracy in an inverted position, she for her part having the rougher time with the randy girls. Their sweaty bodies were bound together with more bed sheets, and the inherent moisture made the thin sheets nearly impossible to slip out of, or to untie the knots even if they could reach them. There would be none of that with the other girls of the bunkhouse watching anyway, and both Tracy and Beth collectively decided that the sooner they brought each other off in exaggerated form, the closer the end to this humiliating show they were being made to perform. It wasn't that they didn't want some relief for themselves at each others "hand", it's just that they didn't want to perform for the others like some circus clown's sideshow act.

Without their hands free to help, or all that much freedom of movement in general, each girl had to move cooperatively to maneuver the other's sweaty body to where each could reach her partners charms. That caused some rather amusing wiggling between the two different sized girls pinned together as one, and their audience chuckled with their antics. The girls for their part looked like a giant white ringed bug trying to crawl away on it's appendages, and might have succeeded in achieving some limited privacy in a dark corner if not for the watching girls intervention.

The girls thought this was possibly the second best entertainment they had seen since being sentenced to the farm, and several of them formed a ring around the oddly wiggling bug with wet rolled up towels at the ready. Beth's tiny ass was in the air as she was still on top of Tracy, and being the lighter of the two it seemed the most natural position, at least as natural as could be expected while performing this crazy spectacle at this crazy place.

A towel was snapped in perfect form by one of the watching girls, and Beth felt the full force it delivered as it was to her ass as she jumped and yelped in surprise. She was still blindfolded and didn't realize why she had been whipped, but knew she no longer wanted to be on top as an easy target. She struggled to roll her friend, who cooperated with the maneuver only because she didn't know what was coming her way once her ass was in the air. Another well placed shot, this time delivered to Tracy instead, and the girls forgot all about pleasing each other and instead wrestled on the floor for the entertainment of their bunkmates, with the unusual goal of staying pinned.

Beth lost the contest as Tracy was considerably stronger and heavier than she was, and she received a fair whipping from the girls collectively who forgot all about her selfless service to them only moments before. When they tired of tormenting Beth with their towels they separated both girls, but only fully released Tracy, the unofficial victor of their inverted wrestling match.

Tracy had a decision to make as the other girls made their way to bed, release her friend and remove her blindfold as well, or take advantage of the situation anonymously for some relief of her own without the need to reciprocate, and then release her. It was an easy decision for a girl who had received plenty of her own motivational torment without reward, and had the pains associated with servicing more girls than she thought possible already. Tracy also realized that if she weren't the stronger of the two, it would have been her ass receiving the whipping, just as Beth attempted initially with their cooperative roll, and this eased Tracy's conscience.

Unknown to Tracy, Beth had a pretty good idea who was mounting her, but with her shoulders pinned to the floor by Tracy's powerful legs, and her own arms pinned to her sides by the still tied bed sheets, it didn't matter. Beth had a surprise in store for her opportunistic friend, actually two of them. First she brought her friend gradually closer and closer to the edge, building her tension and heat with skilled precision, and then she stopped abruptly with Tracy's muscles left twitching in torment. She did this over and over again until Tracy could be certain that it was no accident, a kind of sadistic torture without result from Tracy's point of view.

Tracy's frustrations brought out a very dark side of her otherwise kind personality, and she reached behind herself and lightly slapped Beth's loincloth delivering a message of her own, "please mine, or I will punish yours!" The two girls came to a new understanding then, and Tracy rode her friend through several intense and overdue orgasms of her own, pleased with herself for finding the proper motivation to get what she needed. Tracy left Beth blindfolded and bound on the floor when she was done with her, only to return later to release her to keep up the illusion that it wasn't Tracy who had just used her like a tool.

Beth knew better, and thought to herself, "Your going to miss me when I gone, especially when you have to service all these girls by yourself!"

**************************

Several nights later just before eleven Beth got up from her apparent sleep, put on her own boots after rearranging the ones in front of the other beds, and silently snuck out of their bunk house for what she hoped was the last time. If all went as she outlined in her readdressed letter the editors Packard would be waiting at the train station with the removable trunk strapped in place on the bumper, and all she would have to do was to crawl inside and bounce the large car to let him know the deed was done, all while allowing him to claim ignorance if caught in the act of helping her escape, (Beth knew that detail was likely necessary to accommodate the editor's sense of self preservation). He would then drive away in any direction but towards the big city, and release her from the trunk when they were safely away. With any luck at all he would have something in the trunk for her to wear, but slipping into it inside the dark trunk was another matter, even for someone as small as her.

Beth also realized that with the editor's obvious interest in her he may have conveniently forgotten those things, or perhaps had chosen things scandalously revealing to prolong her humiliation. She thought that anything would be better than just her harness with it's attached loincloth, at least until she could return to her big city apartment with it's closet full of clothes. Beth wanted time alone to put her thoughts and experiences down on paper, and she realized this would take considerably more time than she initially estimated, even if resting at the editors cool summer residence while she did so.

She just hoped for her sake that the editor was no more than just talk when his wife was around. It was one thing to deflect the man's advances while well dressed and in public, quite another to do so while staying at his mansion where he would feel especially empowered, not to mention what she would be wearing in his presence when she popped out of the trunk. He could of course opt not to give her a stitch of clothing until safely at his place to maintain his apparent innocence, and this she thought would be in keeping with the man's character, or lack there of.

This time there was no hurry as she ran easily to the train station, the time of their meeting was set, and she knew if she arrived too soon she would have to loiter dangerously around the place risking attention and capture. Stealth and speed were her best assets, her skin darker that she ever remembered from long hours in the fields, allowing her to blend in easier on the dark streets. She also knew she could out run almost any man on foot, with the possible exception of Jesse Owens, the fastest man on earth at this past Olympics. If the big car wasn't there she knew she could run back to her bunkhouse still again by starlight, but her unique tracks could be noticed, and the man that found them this time might not be quite so charitable and actually give her the strapping she had earned.

With the train station visible in the distance she saw a single taillight waiting in the dark parking lot just as she had asked for in her letter, but didn't the editors Packard have two? She ran at the edge of the tracks as she approached in case she had to slip away as so much could have potentially gone wrong with her plan, but if this was a trap the men of the camp, and possibly the local sheriff would be waiting at the already. Then the only question would be if the sheriff would arrest her before, or after her date with the strap while hung from the tree before the whole camp. Probably after, she reasoned, as the sheriff and his men would likely enjoy the spectacle of her punishment.

The closer Beth got it became evident that this was no Packard, but a nearly new Ford less that half the size with no trunk evident in the dim single tail light's illumination. She knew the pompous editor wouldn't be caught dead owning a common man's car like a Ford, but he could have borrowed one so as not to use his own distinctive car in case somebody saw him. Beth thought that would be wise as nobody in the small town of Grandview likely had a car like his, but still cowardly in her opinion not to take the risk himself, knowing the risk he gladly placed her into to get this story in the first place.

She approached the car while keeping low, and then ran along the track bed as quietly as possible where she wouldn't leave any tracks to be followed, allowing anyone who saw her distinctive tracks to assume she had hopped the train's last car. She kept out of the car's rear view mirror just long enough to look at it's passenger side door to be sure there was no sheriff's star painted on it, which there wasn't. She looked around one last time wondering if this was a trap, however unlikely it would be for too many in this little town to have such a new car with the hard economic times of the day. In the end it didn't matter, and she hoped her ride in the car's trunk was both the end of one adventure, and the start of a new one as a Pulitzer prize winning author with her expose.

There was a large object in the huge trunk with her, and a huge bag, but she easily found a place to lay her tired body, and she closed the lid with a very loud thud in the quiet night air. Beth fell asleep in the dark trunk after she calmed down a bit, the car driving off gently into the night, at least not drawing any unwanted attention as would have been the case with roaring engines and spinning tires.

Beth was startled awake some time later when the engines rhythmic sounds suddenly went silent, and woke with that unfamiliar feeling of "Where am I, and how long did I sleep". Instead of the hatch opening however, the seat back in front of her opened instead, somewhat surprising her as she didn't know it could do that. She found herself face to face with a complete stranger who looked in at her with amusement in the light of the speedometer's illumination. The man was considerably older that herself, but Beth had experience with such men and their rather unique requirements, should that become necessary.

"You don't look like a policeman" Beth said by way of a cautious greeting, hoping she was right...

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17.09.14

story continues in The Investigative Reporter 7: The Price Of Freedom, part 2

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