Fred's Leather Fixation
Title: Fred’s Leather Fixation
Pairings: N/A
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 for, well, disturbing as fuck mental images, and non-con... or possibly R. I think R works better.
Warnings: non-con, slavery, abuse, forced exhibitionism, and, oh, yeah, DISTURBING AS FUCK! Warning, warning warning!! This is DAMNED freaky scarey creepy!
Disclaimers: Not my characters. I make no money off this, I'm just playing. I promise to give them a bath and thorough cleaning when I’m done! Joss Whedon is my lord and Master. All hail Joss Whedon.
Short Summary: Fred muses about the origins of some things.
Word Count: 1082 (As per MS Word Count)
Beta: Tamakin84, any errors are mine and mine alone.
X-posted to: perverted_pages, indigo_crypt, btvsatsdotcom and My Insane Journal
Comments are muchly appreciated, even if it’s just “DUDE! You need to like… stop fucking my brain over like that! I can’t take another story like this, please!
A.N: I might have made it slightly AU, but it’s obvious where the deviation is, so I won’t say before you read it, because that would destroy the story line, and really, that would just take away the “WTF!!!!!!!” factor.
Fred spat out the piece of leather she’d been worrying with her teeth and felt it smack wetly against her wrist. It was a nervous habit she’d developed after she’d escaped. The long strip of leather had been used to bind her hands, when she escaped she kept the length of leather and looped it repeatedly around her wrist before tying it off. It was kind of a trophy. Proof that she was still free during those nights when she woke up in a cold sweat, terrifyingly convinced that she was back in that barn, being “taught” that no matter how much she struggled she couldn’t get off the breeding rack.
She remembered when that horrid old lecher of a demon had bought her at the auction. He’d wanted to start breeding her immediately when he found out she was in her fertile cycle. He’d strapped her onto the rack, bent over at the waist, legs obscenely parted, she could be lowered and lifted to different heights, depending on who/what mated with who/what.
She’d been on that rack three days. Three days on constant penetration and violation and pain. Three days of her owner staring at the coupling before him, absently stroking a scaly outgrowth on his knee. It took her until the third day, when he suddenly grunted, squealed, and shot stream after stream of sickly green fluid from the outgrowth that she finally realized it wasn’t so much an outgrowth so much as one of his species’ reproductive organs. That’s when she realized that he’d been essentially jacking off this entire time, instead of supervising the stud’s behaviour, like she thought it was.
He’d convulsed and fallen over when he was done. She hoped he’d suffered a stroke or something, but the important part was when he fell over, his foot hit the release, and she was free! Well, mostly free, her hands were still tied with that leather, and the guy behind her suddenly got VERY aggressive, but he was bound to a platform so he couldn’t chase her.
She ran to the demons filthy robes and pulled out the little device she knew was there. She deactivated the shock collar she’d had around her throat since shortly after she landed here, and unlocked it. She nearly threw it across the room before she realized how handy a deactivated collar could be! She could sneak back to the villages and steal supplies or something, so she kept it and left it unlatched around her throat. She pulled the knife out of it’s sheathe on the demons belt and made a run for it.
She made it to a woody expanse, not quite a forest, not quite a field, and it had caves, and there was a stream nearby. She finished cutting through the bindings in her wrist before going into one of the caves, looking about setting up her new home.
She didn’t have her period for some time, longer then a month, definitely, and she started to worry. She’d look at her tummy obsessively, to see if it was growing, rubbing her breasts checking for tenderness so often they were red and chafed. When her period finally hit it was heavier then normal, there was heavy cramping, and she belatedly realized she’d miscarried whatever it was that she had been forced to carry.
And here she was, years later, still in the same cave, still chewing the leather strap about her wrist whenever she got scared, still stealing and hiding in order to survive.
She’d gotten used to things; it was nice to have a pattern, even if it was a crazy pattern. She felt safe, some nights, and that was more then she’d ever expected.
She was staring up at the ceiling of her cave, and rubbing her feet, wishing futilely for a nice sturdy pair of hiking boots. She snorted at her absurdity. There was no such thing as hiking boots on this planet, and surely no footwear for human “cows” as these demons called her kind. That’s when she sat up.
There were no REAL cows here, not like, for milk, or for meat, or for… leather.
But… if there were no cows… wh-what kind… of le-leat-leather? She didn’t finish the thought, her wrist rising without conscious thought to bring the scrap of leather to her lips to worry and chew on, she was feeling uncertain and anxious as she thought on. She felt the blood drain from her face, from her head, everything tingled and a roaring echoed in her ears.
Her owner had tied her up, chuckling about using useless cow leather to tie up a useless…. And then she’d been shocked when she strayed too far from him. She never heard the rest.
Oh gawd.
Those leather drinking sacks she used to store water so she didn’t have to keep coming back to the cave every night, she’d wrapped scraps of leather around her feet during the winter, oh no… she… she’d been using… human leather?
With a shriek she threw her wrist away from her lips, gagging with uncontrollable disgust. She retched and then threw up her mushy breakfast, heaving as the enormity sank into her mind.
Oh god, PLEASE, get me out of this hell! This isn’t right, this isn’t right, this ISN’T right, this isn’t RIGHT, this isn’t RIGHT, THIS isn’t right, this ISN’T right, this isn’t right……..
Night fell, darkness infecting the cave when her meagre fire guttered out, and still she sat on her bed, shuddering at the horror of it all, at everything that had happened to her, at everything that had happened to those around her. This was the beginning of her more serious break with reality, it left her mentally limping along when she’d previously soared, she was no longer able to think along certain lines. She was still brilliant, still a genius, and still showed flares of her ingenuity and intelligence… she was just crippled.
It would be years before she was finally brought back to a shadow of her former self, and longer still before she was able to go out in public and not see people and keep imagining them turned into boots or purses or belts or other leather goods. It was one thing she kept from everyone, her personal hell that she carried with her when she left this demon world.
But for now, she was stuck in that dark dank cave, crying herself into a well earned oblivion.
Pairings: N/A
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 for, well, disturbing as fuck mental images, and non-con... or possibly R. I think R works better.
Warnings: non-con, slavery, abuse, forced exhibitionism, and, oh, yeah, DISTURBING AS FUCK! Warning, warning warning!! This is DAMNED freaky scarey creepy!
Disclaimers: Not my characters. I make no money off this, I'm just playing. I promise to give them a bath and thorough cleaning when I’m done! Joss Whedon is my lord and Master. All hail Joss Whedon.
Short Summary: Fred muses about the origins of some things.
Word Count: 1082 (As per MS Word Count)
Beta: Tamakin84, any errors are mine and mine alone.
X-posted to: perverted_pages, indigo_crypt, btvsatsdotcom and My Insane Journal
Comments are muchly appreciated, even if it’s just “DUDE! You need to like… stop fucking my brain over like that! I can’t take another story like this, please!
A.N: I might have made it slightly AU, but it’s obvious where the deviation is, so I won’t say before you read it, because that would destroy the story line, and really, that would just take away the “WTF!!!!!!!” factor.
Fred spat out the piece of leather she’d been worrying with her teeth and felt it smack wetly against her wrist. It was a nervous habit she’d developed after she’d escaped. The long strip of leather had been used to bind her hands, when she escaped she kept the length of leather and looped it repeatedly around her wrist before tying it off. It was kind of a trophy. Proof that she was still free during those nights when she woke up in a cold sweat, terrifyingly convinced that she was back in that barn, being “taught” that no matter how much she struggled she couldn’t get off the breeding rack.
She remembered when that horrid old lecher of a demon had bought her at the auction. He’d wanted to start breeding her immediately when he found out she was in her fertile cycle. He’d strapped her onto the rack, bent over at the waist, legs obscenely parted, she could be lowered and lifted to different heights, depending on who/what mated with who/what.
She’d been on that rack three days. Three days on constant penetration and violation and pain. Three days of her owner staring at the coupling before him, absently stroking a scaly outgrowth on his knee. It took her until the third day, when he suddenly grunted, squealed, and shot stream after stream of sickly green fluid from the outgrowth that she finally realized it wasn’t so much an outgrowth so much as one of his species’ reproductive organs. That’s when she realized that he’d been essentially jacking off this entire time, instead of supervising the stud’s behaviour, like she thought it was.
He’d convulsed and fallen over when he was done. She hoped he’d suffered a stroke or something, but the important part was when he fell over, his foot hit the release, and she was free! Well, mostly free, her hands were still tied with that leather, and the guy behind her suddenly got VERY aggressive, but he was bound to a platform so he couldn’t chase her.
She ran to the demons filthy robes and pulled out the little device she knew was there. She deactivated the shock collar she’d had around her throat since shortly after she landed here, and unlocked it. She nearly threw it across the room before she realized how handy a deactivated collar could be! She could sneak back to the villages and steal supplies or something, so she kept it and left it unlatched around her throat. She pulled the knife out of it’s sheathe on the demons belt and made a run for it.
She made it to a woody expanse, not quite a forest, not quite a field, and it had caves, and there was a stream nearby. She finished cutting through the bindings in her wrist before going into one of the caves, looking about setting up her new home.
She didn’t have her period for some time, longer then a month, definitely, and she started to worry. She’d look at her tummy obsessively, to see if it was growing, rubbing her breasts checking for tenderness so often they were red and chafed. When her period finally hit it was heavier then normal, there was heavy cramping, and she belatedly realized she’d miscarried whatever it was that she had been forced to carry.
And here she was, years later, still in the same cave, still chewing the leather strap about her wrist whenever she got scared, still stealing and hiding in order to survive.
She’d gotten used to things; it was nice to have a pattern, even if it was a crazy pattern. She felt safe, some nights, and that was more then she’d ever expected.
She was staring up at the ceiling of her cave, and rubbing her feet, wishing futilely for a nice sturdy pair of hiking boots. She snorted at her absurdity. There was no such thing as hiking boots on this planet, and surely no footwear for human “cows” as these demons called her kind. That’s when she sat up.
There were no REAL cows here, not like, for milk, or for meat, or for… leather.
But… if there were no cows… wh-what kind… of le-leat-leather? She didn’t finish the thought, her wrist rising without conscious thought to bring the scrap of leather to her lips to worry and chew on, she was feeling uncertain and anxious as she thought on. She felt the blood drain from her face, from her head, everything tingled and a roaring echoed in her ears.
Her owner had tied her up, chuckling about using useless cow leather to tie up a useless…. And then she’d been shocked when she strayed too far from him. She never heard the rest.
Oh gawd.
Those leather drinking sacks she used to store water so she didn’t have to keep coming back to the cave every night, she’d wrapped scraps of leather around her feet during the winter, oh no… she… she’d been using… human leather?
With a shriek she threw her wrist away from her lips, gagging with uncontrollable disgust. She retched and then threw up her mushy breakfast, heaving as the enormity sank into her mind.
Oh god, PLEASE, get me out of this hell! This isn’t right, this isn’t right, this ISN’T right, this isn’t RIGHT, this isn’t RIGHT, THIS isn’t right, this ISN’T right, this isn’t right……..
Night fell, darkness infecting the cave when her meagre fire guttered out, and still she sat on her bed, shuddering at the horror of it all, at everything that had happened to her, at everything that had happened to those around her. This was the beginning of her more serious break with reality, it left her mentally limping along when she’d previously soared, she was no longer able to think along certain lines. She was still brilliant, still a genius, and still showed flares of her ingenuity and intelligence… she was just crippled.
It would be years before she was finally brought back to a shadow of her former self, and longer still before she was able to go out in public and not see people and keep imagining them turned into boots or purses or belts or other leather goods. It was one thing she kept from everyone, her personal hell that she carried with her when she left this demon world.
But for now, she was stuck in that dark dank cave, crying herself into a well earned oblivion.