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From: bradley_stoke@hushmail.com (Bradley Stoke)
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Subject: {ASSM} Escape From Buggery Ch. Nine (9/20) {Bradley Stoke} (caution)
Date: Tue, 10 Jun 2003 10:10:03 -0400
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Title: {ASSM} Escape From Buggery Ch. Nine (9/20) {Bradley Stoke}
(caution)
Author: Bradley Stoke
Part: Chapter 9 of 20
Keywords: (caution)
Short Summary: Sharon, Tracey and Buttercup find Sweetness and Joy in
Buggery.

Escape from Buggery
===================

Synopsis of whole novel
======================

Sex tourism is an adventure, but for Sharon and Tracey their 
trip to Buggery was rather more of an adventure than they'd 
anticipated. And certainly more than the brochure advertised. 
This is a dark disturbing novel in a world the sex tourist 
would rather not know about.


For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www

Previously
==========

Sharon, Tracey and Buttercup are trying to escape from Buggery to the
neighbouring republic of Gomorrah.



Chapter Nine
============


The girls had been in woods for many days now and had 
become rather accustomed to their remoteness from the 
civilised world. Sharon commented that at home they'd 
have been bound to meet someone walking in the woods, 
but as Buttercup pointed out from the map there were just 
no places near them where people would be likely to be 
coming from. As she elaborated, people in Buggery didn't 
have the leisure time to be walking in the woods for no 
purpose.

However, they did at last come across someone else, as 
they emerged out of thick wood into a clearing. It was a 
woman gathering dried wood. Typically for this country, 
she was naked with a shaved head. As they had seen no one 
for so many days, it seemed sensible just to girls stay quiet 
and still in the hope that they wouldn't be noticed while she 
was working. 

"You don't have to hide you know," the woman called out 
to them. "I know you're there." She picked up her bundle of 
twigs and branches and walked towards where they were.

Sharon, Tracey and Buttercup emerged nervously from the 
shadows and stood in the speckled sunlight. The woman 
stared at them with a quizzical expression, passing her eyes 
from one girl to another and back again. She had probably 
been very attractive once, and she was probably not much 
older than thirty. Most of her teeth were missing. Her 
nose was broken and slightly twisted. A jagged scar 
disfigured one of her breasts. "My! You're a funny crowd! 
Are you on the run?"

Tracey nodded her head. "We're on our way to Gomorrah."

"Gomorrah!" exclaimed the woman with an amused smile.  
"Well, you've got to have somewhere to run to if you're 
running away I suppose." She dropped her bundle to her 
feet and hobbled towards them with the faltering step of a 
much older person. "You'll be pleased to know that it's not 
far to go now. The war zone's really close to here. It used 
to be a lot further away. Many kilometres away. But it's 
been getting steadily closer as the war's gone on. Bit like 
the tide coming in, I guess."

The girls felt strangely awe-struck by the disfigured 
woman. She was so skinny, with the outline of her ribs and 
hips showing clearly through her tanned bare skin. Her feet 
were flattened and rough. Her toe- and finger-nails were 
crooked and broken. Many of her teeth were missing, 
particularly at the front. Back home, Sharon and Tracey 
had never seen anyone in such a bad way, except after a 
good scrap in the pub car park. And then it'd be mostly 
patched up when the hospital had got them to them.

"You're a strange lot. I've never seen anyone like you 
before. We get a lot of runaways round here. Mostly to 
seek a better life in Gomorrah. Or anywhere really. But 
you're the strangest yet. I suppose you're worried about 
being caught and sent back. And that's why you're 
wandering in the woods."

"There's a lot of police about!" Sharon said.

"Well, that may be so. But there's no reason here why 
they'd be bothered about you lot in particular. Law and 
order sort of starts to disintegrate round here. No one can 
be bothered to enforce His Majesty's Justice when you 
spend all your time dodging bullets and things. And that's 
why I live here."

"Why? Because there's no law and order?" wondered 
Buttercup.

The woman didn't really answer. She looked at Buttercup's 
beautiful naked figure with a horrible lascivious leer. "My! 
You're a pretty one!" she exclaimed. "You're the prettiest 
one I've ever seen! I'd love to have you suck my cunt!" The 
woman scratched her chin contemplatively with a hand 
from which two fingers were missing. 

The woman walked right up to Buttercup and stood right in 
front of her. Tracey had become sufficiently sensitive to her 
new lover to notice her flinch ever so slightly as the woman 
approached. She answered Buttercup's question. "No, 
sweetheart. Where there's no law and order, then you can 
survive. It's the law which kills people. In most of Buggery 
you can't live at all when you lose your looks. Or like me 
get brutally and violently raped by the police. You don't 
stand a chance in most of Buggery. You last as long as you 
can, and that's only so long as the police don't take an 
interest in you for one reason or another. Or you don't get 
called up for fighting against the Gomorrans. Round here 
no one gives a fuck. There's no eugenic policy - official or 
otherwise." 

The woman raised her other hand, which still had a full set 
of fingers, and without ceremony or introduction stroked 
Buttercup's breasts. "You'll want some food, won't you? 
Something to eat. You can't buy it round here. You can 
only grow it, steal it or sell your body for it."

"Can't you buy anything at the villages?" wondered Tracey. 

"Villages!" sniffed the woman. "You're only five kilometres 
from the front. Villages can't survive here. They get 
bombed to pieces. You have to live in a bunker to survive 
round here. There are no villages anywhere around her! 
The nearest you have to a village must be Tranquillity. 
That's a real hovel which supplies sex to the soldiers before 
they head off to fight in the war. And probably die. You 
could buy sex there, but not any food. You can buy 
sex here if you want. And you can sell it too. It's a lot less 
precious than food, I can tell you! If you want food you're 
going to have to follow me. And you're going to have to 
pay for it! But not with money! What could I do with 
money round here?"

The woman  looked at the girls. "Well! Are you coming 
with me or you going to stay in the fucking woods forever? 
And is any one of you going to help me carry these fucking 
twigs?" 

Sharon nodded and reluctantly stepped forward. "Yeah! 
We'll come. At least you're not police!"

The woman smiled grimly. "And you can call me Joy by the 
way. That's what I'm called, but that doesn't necessarily 
describe me."

She picked up the bundle that lay on the ground, which was 
tied together by more flexible branches, and lunged it over 
to Sharon. She gasped as she took the weight off Joy. 
Fuck! They were heavy! She swang them over her 
shoulder, feeling the rough branches against her skin 
through the blouse, and followed Joy as she hobbled ahead 
of them through the woods. Fortunately, Tracey and 
Buttercup took turns in helping her carry the bundle, so it 
wasn't so bad. But even five minutes at a time was more 
weight than she'd ever carried before. They walked in single 
line through a tortuous route that seemed to follow no 
obvious paths, stepping over fallen logs and ducking under 
tangled bracken. Now that Tracey was carrying the bundle 
and cursing every fucking twig while she did so, Sharon 
now noticed for the first time that Joy had a bit of a limp, 
and that half of one of her buttocks was missing. 

Also for the first time, as they stumbled along, the girls 
began to appreciate just how close they must be to the war 
zone. They passed the rotting hull of a crashed aeroplane, 
parts of which were still hanging from the branches of the 
trees. And they passed a few holes that Tracey at first 
thought had been dug, but which Buttercup pointed out 
were more likely to be craters caused by falling bombs. 

And then, for the first time in days, they were out of the 
woods and found themselves on a road which stretched 
away from the wood across open fields into the distance. 
The three girls paused in the unfamiliar, open space. They 
could see more than several yards ahead. And the bright 
rays of the sun in the open air was overwhelming after the 
speckled light and dark shadows they'd become accustomed 
to. 

Joy did not appreciate their pause. "Fuck's sake!" She 
yelled. "It's fucking dangerous here. You don't want to get 
shot, do you? And don't wander around randomly. There 
are mines, unexploded bombs and all things round here. So 
just follow where I go and don't even think of making a 
fucking detour." She turned round with a grimace, and 
hobbled on as the unforgiving sun beat down on her and on 
the girls. Sharon's skin burnt in the bright light and the 
sharp pain of the heat became indistinguishable form the 
sharp pain of the branches she was carrying. But, from the 
advice she had been given, she was able to see the 
landscape in a new light. The many holes which dotted the 
uncultivated fields had definitely not been dug. They were 
too shallow and too strangely smooth. And the rusted hulks 
she could see in the distance were almost certainly not the 
tractors and cars like you'd expect to see in the country 
back home. They almost certainly served some military 
purpose.

After a mile or so of trudging through the desolate fields, 
Joy led them to what looked like some kind of a settlement. 
It was in fact the bombed remains of a tinned fruit factory, 
with a large commercial sign pointing to the foreman's 
office and industrial machinery scattered about. 

As they approached, they were able to see the other 
inhabitants of this place. Like Joy, they were all naked with 
shaved heads. Some were even young children: which was 
something Tracey and Sharon hadn't seen before in 
Buggery. But the vast majority of the people were other 
women. Very few were men. Nobody seemed to pay them 
any attention as they approached. Everyone seemed busy in 
their own affairs amongst the ruins of the factory, which 
still had inappropriate signs scattered about the place, 
pointing towards places like Reception, Head Office and 
Exit. 

Joy stopped by a sign reading Technical Services. "This 
used to be the main agricultural district of Buggery," she  
commented. "During the war with Sodom, this area was 
very prosperous, as all trade that didn't go by sea had to go 
via Gomorrah. So, a lot of people came to live round here. 
Nowadays nobody lives here except old people like me or 
people with more to fear from Law and Order than from 
living off all this shit."

"What sort of people?" wondered Sharon.

 "Men, for instance," Joy continued. "Not many men 
in Buggery. They all get sent off to the war if they can't be 
used in the sex and tourism industry. People with 
physical disabilities - like that girl there." She pointed at a 
very pretty girl of about sixteen who certainly didn't 
appear disabled. "She's deaf. She'd be dead as well 
anywhere but here. Deafness isn't tolerated. It's a wonder 
she didn't have her womb torn out like I did. But she's had a 
couple of little children. And they're not deaf."

Joy led the three girls down what had once been a corridor, 
but now without a roof over their heads seemed like just 
the gap between two buildings. She arrived at a hatch on 
the floor which she crouched over, lifted up with some 
effort with both hands and revealed a flight of metal steps 
descending into the dark. "Down here. But be careful! A lot 
of rungs are missing."

This was true, and Buttercup complained at the sharpness 
of the edges of the rungs on her bare feet. It was also very 
dark, so the three girls were quite frightened as they 
descended. Before they got to the bottom, however, the 
shaft was lit up by a light from below as Joy lit a candle 
with some matches. They now got a view of where they 
were. It was in fact a room that had once been a food store. 
All about  the place was scattered an untidy miscellany of 
rugs and rubbish, which betrayed no sense of order, even to 
Tracey and Sharon who were used to relative disorder. In 
the corner of the room, there was a ragged mattress on 
which lay another woman, whose appearance was not 
nearly as decrepit as the first woman.

"This is Sweetness, my lover," announced Joy. "Sweetness 
is blind, so the only use she has to the world is to make 
love. Isn't that so, darling."

"I fuck all the time. To whoever's willing to pay us food 
for it," Sweetness explained. "Are you going to give us 
food for sex? I'm about ready for a fuck." Sweetness was a 
slim, in fact emaciated girl, perhaps only fourteen years old, 
with long, terribly matted, black hair which reached to her 
waist. Like everyone else though she was totally naked.

"Not tonight, Sweetness," Joy explained. "It's these girls 
who are going to give me pleasure today."

In fact it was more Buttercup than Sharon or Tracey who 
provided that honour. The two girls were deeply depressed 
by their environment, horrified by the physical appearance 
of their host, but nonetheless ravenously hungry. Buttercup, 
however, seemed to have no discriminatory faculties and 
more than satisfied Joy's lust, while Sweetness sat silently 
and disconsolately to one side. Tracey felt a mixture of 
disgust and jealousy as she watched Buttercup indulge in 
wild and passionate love of the kind with apparently just as 
much pleasure as she'd ever shown to her. But although 
Buttercup might have the energy, she reflected, somehow 
all the energy seemed to have sapped out of her. The 
relative calm and peace that had fallen upon her these last 
couple of days since they'd met Buttercup was being angrily 
consumed with the heat and rush of jealousy and hatred, as 
she watched Buttercup lick Joy's half-buttock and allowed 
Joy's tongue to push through the gaps in her teeth into the 
beauty of her vagina. Tracey could imagine every caress 
and every thrust and every nibble as if it was happening to 
her. As, of course, it had not so long before.

And Joy's appetite for sex was ravenous and ugly. She 
probed every orifice in Buttercup's body: her nostrils, her 
ears, her mouth and arse. She demanded that Buttercup 
push her tongue down her throat, into her anus, and to pay 
particular attention to the ripped and jagged edges of her 
torn labia. Every scar had to be licked, every wound and 
every part of her had to be treated as if it were a source of 
pleasure.

Only after Joy was fully satisfied, after several hours of 
fumbling, groping, penetration and nibbling in the candle-
light, was the food at last prepared. And it really was not 
very pleasant. It was just a tasteless meat and vegetable 
stew on white rice. But nevertheless the friends launched 
into it with an appetite. As they ate greedily and 
voraciously, Sharon began to see more the advantages of 
having Buttercup in their company. Unlike Tracey, she had 
been able to watch Buttercup and Joy without too much 
jealousy. And, even, after having watched Tracey and 
Buttercup together, with a guilty feeling of having gained a 
kind of revenge. Sharon wouldn't have chosen to make love 
to such a disgusting (and smelly!) wreck of an individual 
like Joy. Nor was she too excited by the sullen, skeletal 
appearance of Sweetness. And now that Tracey had seen 
what a promiscuous slut Buttercup was, despite her 
obvious physical beauty, maybe she would lose her so 
obvious dykish obsession with the girl.

However, when the candle was about to be extinguished, 
Sharon found that there was actually a shortage of 
mattresses and that the two mattresses there were both in a 
filthy and sordid state. Tracey and Sharon shared the 
mattress with Sweetness who clung to them with a tenacity 
that had nothing do with any sexual passion and more to do 
with a desperation for their bodies' warmth. Sweetness 
occasionally stroked and caressed the two girls' bodies 
seemingly unconcerned by their unresponsiveness. This was 
almost comforting in the discomfort and bleakness of their 
sleeping arrangements. Sharon had never slept so tightly 
against Tracey's body before, and she was dreading not 
only Sweetness' dyke intentions, but those that her best 
friend might be developing. Joy and Buttercup slept on the 
other mattress where they very soon resumed making love 
together as the night hours stretched ahead in the total 
blackness of the abandoned store-room.





For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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