Chapter Text
This was it.
The day you had all been trained for.
Training you never thought you'd get.
Training you thought no one in their right mind would ever get.
Not even in the sickest, most deluded fantasies of the most fucked up people in history.
But that was over, and the race was about to begin.
Your prize?
Freedom, of course!
Freedom from your current situation!
The nightmare would be over!
For one of you, at least.
You had no idea how long it had been since you were abducted from the parking lot at work.
Or what the outside world was even like anymore.
Only what the "handlers" told you.
The same ones that stripped you naked.
Gave you a tattoo.
Nothing fancy, just "#7".
You had your name stripped from you, you and eleven others, you would find out.
All twelve of you would be competing in a race for "Mother".
The winner would be granted freedom, the others would be sold off.
As if that wasn't bad enough...
"Mother" had your arms and legs removed.
All of you.
You would be competing in this race as essentially a head and torso.
The screaming, the depression.
The "handlers" hit you each time you lashed out.
It would take a while, but you learned to bite your tongue.
You wondered how the other poor, unfortunate souls were handling their captivity.
None of you were ever allowed to see each other.
"Mother" didn't want any of you showing sympathy to your competitors, after all.
Or plan an escape.
Escape.
As if that was possible, when you didn't know where you were and movement was much more difficult.
Even after the training the handlers put you through to give you a better idea of what was in store.
And the conversations the "handlers" had with each other helped give you more context, from the little you could piece together.
The youngest of the captives was nineteen, six years below you and the same age as your sister.
Any men who had been abducted had been forcefemmed, there were absolutely no men on the premises, not even amongst the "handlers". Dicks and balls, all gone with their arms and legs.
Some of the kidnapped had actually taken to this, apparently already brainwashed into being an ideal sex slave.
But that was not you.
You were going to gain your freedom and find a way to bring these fuckers down.
"ALRIGHT LADIES, IT'S TIME! GET READY FOR THE SACK RACE!"
You couldn't see much from the dog carrier you were placed in.
You assumed the others were in the same position.
No one had a fair, or unfair advantage.
It was anyone's game.
The door to the carrier opened.
It was time.
"3, 2, 1, GO!"
You willed yourself to drag along the ground.
Besides the cheers of the "handlers", the only other noises you heard were the groans, grunts and cries of the other racers.
Two of them, you couldn't see who, had refused to move past the entry of their carriers.
You heard threats,
Then the crack of a whip.
You had been told that refusal to participate was an automatic allotment to the worst client lined up to buy the losers of the race.
This was another reason you were desperate to win.
You weren't going to be some sex slave.
"SACKS ONE AND TEN HAVE REFUSED TO RACE! THEY ARE OUT OF THE RUNNING!"
The first leg was largely uneventful, just plain grass.
Not pleasant, but not difficult.
The second leg was a little tougher.
Some rocks, some mud.
But that was fine.
Endure a little pain, get a little dirty.
That was worth the price of freedom.
You reach the mud.
You feel it smear on you, a slight chill as it caresses your body.
But again, nothing you can't handle.
You hear squealing a few lanes down.
Sounds like one of the competitors has fully been broken and believes themselves to be a pig.
The "handlers" kick her.
She continues to roll in the mud, like a person turned porcine.
"SACK ELEVEN HAS DECIDED TO FORFEIT AND LIVE LIKE A PIG!"
Three down, eight to go.
You weren't going to rely on attrition to win this for you, though.
You were in it to win it, not just endure.
You look over at the lane to your left.
Something about #8 seemed familiar...
No, no.
Don't distract yourself.
You needed to focus.
The third leg was fast approaching, and you needed to be ready for-
Oh, fuck.
Barbed wire.
Of course.
You knew it wasn't going to be easy.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see #6 pulling forward in her lane.
You mustered the strength to edge forward.
A small scratch on your back.
Then another.
You slow down a little to hug the ground and avoid more scarring.
Alright, almost cleared the barb wire field.
This one's taking a few of the others out.
That'll make it easier to win.
Last bit now-
Wait, why aren't you moving?
Why are you suddenly feeling pain?
You try to move forward and more pain occurs.
Fuck.
Your hair's stuck on the wire!
You pull.
No movement.
You pull harder.
Almost there...
One more try...
Finally!
You lost a little bit of hair with that last attempt, but it's a small price to pay.
You wonder why they didn't just shave you all bald, but you figure "Mother" wants her toys to still be pretty, even when fighting for their lives.
Despite this small setback, you quickly catch back up with the others through the sand trap.
You can feel it getting all over and inside you, but after the barb wire, you'd prefer it.
It's just four of you now.
You, #6, #8 and #3-
"THREE HAS COLLAPSED! SHE REFUSES TO PROCEED FURTHER, SO SHE IS REMOVED FROM THE RACE!"
And then there were three.
As you advanced, #6 looked over to you.
She spat at you.
You couldn't exactly blame her for trying any tactic to throw you off.
But you would not be deterred.
And you would need that determination.
The next leg, three "handlers" appeared with hoses.
They sprayed all three of you, the force of each hose strong enough to knock you back.
Fucking cold, too.
You started shivering a little.
And yet, you carried on.
Once you reached the legs of your "handler", they let you move on.
You look ahead.
You see no one else.
You're winning!
Just one more obstacle and you would be able to leave this all behind!
You crawl towards the last field.
You see the ground is littered with something.
Oh fuck.
It's broken glass.
You take a second to steel yourself, grit your teeth, then make your way through the jagged shards.
"SHIT!"
One cut you on the stump that used to have your left leg.
"FUCK!
Another cuts into your stomach.
You can feel the blood trickle.
You decide to take it a little slower, and try to brush the bigger shards away with your stump, or even overturn them.
It costs you a little time, but you only get two more cuts this way, neither of which are big enough to significantly slow you down.
And there at last.
The staircase!
Just climb these twelve steps.
Up to "Mother".
Up to release from this trauma.
"SIX HAS GIVEN UP! ONLY TWO MORE REMAIN!"
You look back quickly.
It's just you and #8 now, and she's not too far behind.
You swear you know that hair from somewhere...
But after the tears and the shit your body has gone through today, you don't have the time to look further into it.
You drag yourself up each step, feeling every little bump.
You get slower as you climb.
Can't rest now, though.
You'll get that when you reach the top.
"HAVE WE GOT A WINNER HERE?! SEVEN LOOKS CLEAR TO TAKE THE TOP SPOT, BUT EIGHT HAS JUST REACHED THE STAIRCASE!"
That was the push you needed.
You summon the strength.
You reach the top!
You won!
"AND SEVEN HAS WON THE SACK RACE! CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR LUCKY VICTOR!"
You see "Mother", who looks to be in her mid 40's, blonde and glamourous.
She claps, and summons "handlers" over to clean you up and tend to your wounds.
You pant.
Lacking in energy, but unquestionably happy in your victory.
"Mother" beckons for you to be brought over.
As much as you despise her in this moment, you'll put up with her for a few more moments as she grants you release.
You wait for her to make the proclamation, and assemble the equipment and resources you need to move on your own and go back to society.
But that doesn't happen.
"OK dear, time to claim your prize!"
She takes off her dress.
Her giant, erect cock stares right at you.
You look up at her, confused.
"But... my... freedom..."
"You ARE free, silly! You won the race, now you're free from being sold off like the others! You'll be my prized toy for the rest of your days! Isn't that even better?"
You wanted to cry.
But more than that, you wanted to scream.
THIS was freedom?!
Being by her side as some free-use fuck sack, waiting on her every depraved, sexual whim?
"No..."
"No? What do you mean no?"
"I... said... NO!"
You spit at "Mother".
She gasps.
You gather the strength to speak.
"I won this fucking sick little game you've designed... the very least you can do... is let me go."
"Mother" gets upset.
"You little ingrate! I could have left you to be sold off to a faraway land and let God knows what happen to you!"
Before you could argue again, you both turn when you hear a noise.
#8 had just made it to the top of the stairs.
"Mother" walks over to her.
"How about you, #8? Would you like the life I offered this little cunt?"
#8 looks at "Mother's" cock for all of three seconds...
And starts sucking, eyes closing like she's getting her first taste of water after wandering the desert.
You crawl over, hoping to talk some sense into your fellow captive.
But as you get closer, your jaw drops wide as you recognize her.
How did they kidnap your sister too?!
"SIS!"
"Wait, you two are sisters?! Ohhhh, that makes this even better than I ever could have imagined!"
You realize then it was a horrible, horrible coincidence that your sister had been abducted like you had.
They probably snatched her right off her college campus.
She must have been the youngest of the captives competing today.
And from the looks of it, they broke her.
She opened her eyes to look at you, then closed them again to get right back to sucking "Mother" off.
"Get off of her!"
You go to bite Mother, little else you can do.
But one of the "handlers" tase you.
After all your body has gone through today, you pass out right away.
If only you knew what was in store for you...