The Compound Part 1
Leviticus
The clouds hung low and heavy, saturated with moisture that threatened to
come down at any time, their dark gray complexion all but shutting out the
light of the sun. They obscured the peaks of the mountains they shared the
sky with, and their bulk towered high above the ground, mountains in
themselves.
From the ground, the mass of cloud looked featureless and still, but the air
was anything but still. Down drafts and rolls of air continually mixed the
lower levels of the massive clouds, churning them around and occasionally
letting loose a brief rain shower.
Under, and occasionally through this, flew a small plane. A Cessna 182
Skylane, a light aircraft built back in the 70's. It was a tough little
aircraft, but not built to be flown in such conditions, especially in such
terrain. Most aircraft either flew above bad weather, where the sun always
shone and the air was much smoother, or they flew around such huge potential
storms. However the clouds extended way above the Skylane's ceiling, and
for pressing reasons, the pilot didn't want to take the time to fly the long
way round.
They were supposed to have flown across the Colorado Rockies into Utah,
where after a brief fuel stop they could continue on to Arizona. But the
weather was hampering their efforts, forcing them to fly through mountain
passes rather than over them, and visibility was getting worse. Buckets of
rain were being dumped at random intervals on the small plane, and the pilot
also had to wrestle with turbulence that threatened at any time to slam the
plane down into the ground. Many times, they had been forced a lot closer
to the mountainside than was safe, trees and rocks scant yards below the
extended wheels of the Cessna 182.
On board was the pilot, Dirk Tesco, a lightly built man whose muscles
strained against the effort to maintain control of his aircraft. He never
would have admitted it to his passenger, but he was scared. Every minute of
flight time seemed to get worse to him, and he searched in vain through the
rain-obscured windows for a place to set down. He knew with a certainty
that once the clouds above did decide to open up that they would crash for
certain. Flying around in the mountains without being able to see anything
meant certain death. He kept his mouth shut though, so not to alarm his
girlfriend who sat next to him.
Shawna Michaels was already alarmed. There was no disguising the
gut-wrenching drops the plane made whenever the wind slammed down on them
from above. And she could have sworn that she heard branches and leaves
brushing the underside of the plane whenever they got too close to the
ground. She had a tight grip on her lap belt, wishing there was a shoulder
belt to go with it, and watched in horror as Dirk banked the plane around
yet another outcropping that appeared out of nowhere. She would have shut
her eyes but she was airsick as it was and she needed the visual reference.
A wall of rain appeared ahead of them and they plowed through it like a
boat. The engine sputtered for a moment as water was ingested into it but
then it picked up again.
Shawna gave a small scream and bit her lip. She glanced over at Dirk, who
had his eyes bouncing between the panel in front of him and the windows.
The wild look on his face didn't reassure her in the slightest.
"We have to go back!" she yelled!
"No way, Babe! WAY too much law waiting for us there," Dirk answered.
"You asshole! Is the money worth our lives?"
"It ain't the money, Babe, it's the jail time. You ain't ever been in jail,
you wouldn't know. I ain't going back!"
Shawna was scared shitless that they were going to crash, and she held on
even tighter to her only restraint. "Well can't you land someplace?"
"You show me some nice little airport or road down there, Babe, and I'll set
us down. But until then, SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'm trying to fly here!"
Despite her fear of the weather and the horrible flight, her fear of Dirk
was greater. When pissed off as he obviously was right now, he tended to
strike out at whatever or whomever was closest. Shawna had been close to
him an awful lot of times.
She glanced back at the three sacks in the space behind their seats, their
contents once the property of the Cisco National Bank of Colorado. Close to
three million in large bills. She'd give the lot away to be able to get out
of the plane right now.
Another downdraft struck the plane and Shawna felt herself grow weightless
again, the lap belt the only thing keeping her in her seat. Beside her,
Dirk dipped the stick in order to gain a little airspeed and therefore lift,
hoping that the ground was far below them.
The trick actually worked until another wall of water choked the engine,
cutting its power way back. The plane slowed, lost its lift in the rapidly
falling air, and began to plummet once more. Desperately, Dirk pushed the
yoke full forward, still floating in his seat, and managed to use gravity
instead of the faltering engine's power to pick up some much needed speed.
He didn't notice though, that one of the unsecured bags had floated up in
the air behind him. It would have dropped harmlessly back in its spot had
not the plane slowed once more due to another blast of water. The bag
instead followed the laws of inertia and continued going at the plane's
former speed, slamming into the back of Dirk's head. Stunned, Dirk slumped
forward and pushed the yoke all the way to the stop. This dropped the nose
of the plane completely, and Shawna screamed. She felt like she was falling
out of her seat, and grabbed hold of the copilot's yoke in front of her.
Somehow, she maintained the presence of mind to pull back on the wheel, but
not only was she fighting the turbulent air around the aircraft, but also
the dead weight of Dirk.
Her screaming must have helped him come to his senses though, because he
woke up just as the ground appeared ahead of them. Adding his scream to her
own, he hauled on the yoke and pushed the throttle to full power. The
half-choked engine did its best to spin up, but there just wasn't time.
What saved the plane from becoming a hole in the ground was Dirk's last act.
Twisting the wheel, he managed to roll the plane around. It was still
plummeting at a steep 60-degree angle but the mountainside below them was
also almost at 60 degrees. Instead of plowing directly into the side of it,
the Skylane grazed the mountainside, its wheels slapping at the tops of the
trees.
It was almost a miraculous escape. But one tree, slightly taller than the
rest, hit a wing tip rather than a wheel.
The Cessna Skylane yawed over to one side, and before Dirk could correct for
it, the plane hit another tree.
That was the end of its ability to fly. The second tree took out part of
the tail section, and the small plane plummeted to the ground. Two more
trees caught the wings and folded them back, spraying fuel everywhere.
Shawna couldn't stop screaming as her world whirled and rotated around her.
The noise of the crash was deafening, and she hardly felt her unsecured arms
and legs flapping about and banging into things. Then there was a shudder,
and everything stopped. Everything but Shawna's brain, that is. She was
dizzy from the spins and wanted to throw up, but her nose caught the scent
of gasoline in the air. "Dirk!" she cried out, but to her horror, she saw
that Dirk wasn't going to answer her. A tree limb had come in through the
shattered windshield and had plowed through his midsection. He lay half out
his side window, pinned to his seat like a butterfly on a piece of cork.
Stunned into silence, Shawna crawled quickly from the plane and sat on the
ground. She sat a moment just staring at her dead boyfriend, before getting
up and reaching into the plane once more.
Shawna was operating on autopilot, and later never could figure out why she
did what she did. But almost calmly, she pulled out of the plane all three
sacks of money and her own knapsack, and began hobbling away from the wreck.
Fifty feet away, she paused and turned to look once more. That was when she
saw the fire. The stalled, but still hot, engine had ignited the fumes of
all the spilt fuel. Fire quickly enveloped the whole plane and sent up a
plume of smoke that quickly mixed with the low clouds above. Shawna stood
fascinated by the flames until the screaming began.
Dirk wasn't dead.
Trembling in horror, Shawna listened, as the man who had been her lover for
the last three years, the man who had given her an escape from her brutal
but rich father, and turned out to be rather brutal himself, the man who had
forced her to use her skills in electronics to tease open a bank vault so he
could rob it, burned to death.
She remained standing, until the screams stopped and the flames began to
consume the whole aircraft, before moving on. She did wonder about forest
fires, but the obliging clouds kept opening up with the occasional squall,
and while the Cessna burned, the rain-soaked vegetation around it did not.
Shawna walked a few more yards and sat down next to a tree.
---***---
How long Shawna stayed there she did not know. Her watch had taken a hard
blow and didn't work any longer. Under it, her wrist was developing a large
bruise. She had other cuts and bruises, but the one that hurt the most was
on her left ankle. During the crash, she had slammed it into the panel. It
wasn't sprained, but it did hurt like hell. But to Shawna, the pain in her
foot was a minor matter. Echoing in her head were Dirk's screams, and her
shocked mind needed time to come to terms with it. In the end, it just put
it away to deal with later, and Shawna felt an unnatural calmness come over
her. She got to her feet, and with difficulty hid the three bags of money
in some brush before beginning her descent down the steep mountainside.
She had gone maybe a half-mile before she could walk no longer. The
throbbing pain in her foot was too much for her; she had to stop. She
collapsed against a tree with a fantastic view of the Rockies spread out
before her, and she quickly dug around in her knapsack until she found a
small plastic bottle.
Her actions rather desperate now, she carefully took the top of the bottle,
and having nothing else, tipped a little of the white powdered contents onto
a finger before inhaling it.
Shawna sat for a few seconds until the drug began to take effect, before
carefully replacing the top on the bottle.
Looking about her, she felt utterly alone, for there was nothing to see but
wilderness. Tree covered mountains were visible everywhere she looked, most
of them reaching into the low cloud cover that had caused the crash. She
was cold and wet from several downpours; her jeans and bright yellow cotton
blouse no protection from the elements. And as the gathering gloom signaled
the end of another day, Shawna was lost, and also very, very afraid.
---***---
Light female laughter could be heard through the trees, although its source
was invisible to the man walking carefully through the brush. When the
laughter started, he stopped moving and cocked his head, listening quietly
for the telltale sound of leaves being pushed aside or twigs breaking. The
day had dawned bright and sunny after a day and night of near stormy
conditions. The sky was still dotted with clouds, but the man, and the
woman he was chasing, had thought it safe to go on their picnic anyway.
Neither one of them had wanted to spend another day inside. Together they
had climbed high up the mountain, partly for the view, but mostly for the
privacy. Community spirit was one thing, but sometimes it was nice to get
away by themselves for a while. Now they were playing a game, one they
liked to play often, and neither one minded winning or losing; the outcome
was usually the same.
The man heard a rustle of leaves, or so he thought, and he froze, trying to
figure out where it came from. He was a handsome man, not big, but tall and
well built. His body had, over the last two years, been sculpted by hard
work in the open air, and he was as fit as he had ever been in his life.
His fitness was very visible, for he wore nothing but a rope about his waist
and wide leather straps about his wrists. The rest of his belongings were in
a leather sack worn over one shoulder. With the sack, he thought himself at
a disadvantage in the game he was playing, but he had evened up the odds a
little, and the thought made him smile.
'There,' he thought as he heard a rustle, 'up that slope.' As if to confirm
his suspicions, he heard more laughter coming at him from above, and he
wondered why his companion was being so obvious about it, it wasn't like
her. But then, knowing her as he did, she probably had a plan, and a
devious one at that.
Treading carefully, his bare feet well used to walking on all types of
ground, he made his way uphill, keeping an eye open for clues. It was at
times like this that he didn't know if he was the hunter or the prey, and to
be honest, he didn't mind either way. He'd happily let himself be caught if
it wasn't for the fact that she'd skin him alive for making it too easy.
Sometimes he wondered if her insistence that these games be as real as
possible was compensation for her leaving the outside world. She was a
strong woman with an active mind, and he knew it must be hard for her at
times to slow down to the more relaxed pace of the Compound, but she never
complained and never gave him any sign that she wasn't at peace here. There
had been a few awkward moments at the beginning, rough periods while she
adjusted to living here; but adjust she did in her own way, although at
times he saw in her eyes that something still haunted her. He had lived
with her for over a year now, and he still felt that he didn't know all
there was to know about his wife. The woman kept many secrets.
The man entered a glade. Small, but with a wonderful view of a valley a
thousand feet below them, it was layered with natural grasses and seemed
fairly flat.
He dropped the sack against a tree and reached in to pull out a length of
leather cord. Now he felt he had the upper hand, and with a grin, he exited
the glade and continued uphill.
A sound to his left made him pause, and he stood stock-still, examining the
landscape around him.
"I'm coming to get you!" he called out with a smile on his face, and he was
rewarded by the sound of swishing leaves and a flash of tanned skin. She
had managed to lure him further uphill than she had gone herself, and now
she was going back down. Her plan apparently was to circle around and take
him from behind. Yes, she certainly was sneaky. But her run had broken her
cover, and he knew he had her. He tried not to laugh as he took off after
her, but failed miserably.
She was laughing too, and as he drew closer, he could see her running
awkwardly between the trees.
God, she looked beautiful.
Naked as he was, all she had on was a rope about her waist and leather bands
on her wrists, which for the moment were tied back to back with a leather
thong behind her back.
She turned to look behind her, and the couple made eye contact for the first
time since the game began. The man almost stumbled as her beauty hit him,
the smile on her lips, the light in her eyes, the supple strength of her
body clearly exposed, and the way her long hair whipped to one side as she
turned.
Sometimes when he looked at her, he fell in love all over again. But loving
her wasn't helping him catch her; there would be plenty of time for that
later. He focused his mind and began to pursue her in earnest. She led him
a good chase, but having her hands tied behind her slowed her down, and
eventually he caught her and wrestled her wonderfully soft and naked body to
the ground.
"Hey, no fair!" she cried out amidst the laughter. "You dropped the bag!"
"I didn't drop everything!" he said, showing her the coil of cord in his
hand.
With a squeal she tried to wriggle free of his grasp, but the man was an old
hand at subduing naked women, especially this one. His fingers found a
sensitive spot, and he tickled her until she was almost gasping for breath.
Then he used the cord to bind her ankles together, before standing up to
survey his prize.
"I win," he said with a grin.
"You...bastard," laughed the woman.
The man chuckled and reached down to pick her up. With another squeal, the
woman was hoisted over his shoulder and carried back to the glade. The
woman felt quite vulnerable being carried naked and bound like this, but
enjoyed the view, as her husband's tight ass was right in front of her face.
When they reached the glade, the man put her down and let her wriggle in the
grass while he pulled a bedroll from the sack. It was the work of just a
moment to unroll it and transfer his wife to its softer surface. He laid
her on her back and dropped down next to her. The couple became quiet as
they gazed into each other's eyes, and no one watching could have missed the
affection that bound them together. Slowly, the man leaned forward and
kissed his bound wife, the tender caress of his lips returned in force by
the woman.
When they parted, he found his heart beating loud and hard in his chest.
"I love you, Rhianna Anderson," he said quietly.
"I love YOU, Matthew, my husband," Rhianna replied. He bent forward and
they kissed once more, this time for longer. Matthew's hands found their
way to Rhianna's soft tanned skin and caressed her gently. Rhianna moaned
as one hand slipped along her smooth mons and dipped into her womanhood.
She was already wet, for earlier Matthew had used up the last of the juice
in the little vial they had been given as a wedding present. The juice was
an aphrodisiac; applied externally to erogenous zones, it dramatically
increased sexual arousal for a day or two. The vial had been small, but
then a little went a long way.
Rhianna certainly felt the heat, and quite enjoyed the feelings, although
before she had sometimes resented being forced to feel this way. But
Matthew had earned her trust, never abusing her vulnerability while in this
state. It allowed her to eventually relax and just enjoy it. Sex had never
been so good.
She had a feeling that her increased responsiveness wasn't all because of
the vial though; just the thought of it sometimes made her wet, and when
Matthew looked at her a certain way, she just melted. Conditioned response?
She didn't care; it made her happy.
Matthew had continued his exploration of her body, using hands, mouth, and
his own manhood as he pinched and caressed her all over. At one point, he
undid the cord that bound her feet together, and Rhianna was allowed to
spread her legs and invite him in.
It was an invitation Matthew never declined. With a shift of his body, he
pushed and slipped into her moist warmth, and the twosome was now one.
Rhianna/Matthew moved together, familiar rhythms accelerating slowly. They
never parted, and never said a word; they didn't need to. Their joy was
beyond words, and could not be expressed in that way. Rhianna/Matthew
quickly focused beyond the outside world and the discomforts it held, as
together they approached climax. Rhianna forgot about how uncomfortable it
was lying on her back with her hands bound back to back, and Matthew no
longer felt the rock under his right knee or the mosquito biting his ass.
They only felt each other, and when the climax came, they came together in a
wave of love and wonder.
Both cried out in their passion, not caring if anyone could hear them,
although this high up the mountain no one should have been able to. The
moment was theirs, and the entire world didn't matter anymore. Then came
the afterglow, and Matthew rolled onto his back, pulling Rhianna over with
him so they could get off her bound arms. They managed this trick without
him having to pull out of her, and he enjoyed how her sex kept massaging
him, the stimulation keeping him hard inside her despite one mother of an
orgasm.
Rhianna looked down at him, her face inches from his, her hair a shroud
around them, and she grinned.
"Not bad," she said.
"Not bad?" Matthew asked in surprise.
"Yep! It was pretty good."
"Pretty good!"
Rhianna laughed. "Why is the male ego so fragile when it comes to sex?"
Matthew didn't want to answer. Instead, he pulled her close and kissed her
once more.
Rhianna relaxed in his arms for a little while before sitting up. She
pulled her legs forward and knelt, straddling him. He was still inside her,
and the burning passions within her demanded some more attention, so with a
devilish grin, she started to pump him, lifting herself up carefully with
her strong legs and then coming back down.
Matthew loved this; he loved to watch her when she was on top. He put his
hands behind his head and gazed lustfully at Rhianna's sweaty nude body as
she did all the work.
One part of his mind was on the exquisite feelings coming from his groin,
while the other admired the way her breasts bounced with each thrust.
Rhianna knew he was staring at her boobs and arched her back a little more.
A small part of her was shocked at her brazen attitude, but that was the old
Rhianna; the new one was in love and had no such inhibitions toward her
husband.
Matthew knew it too, and before long both of them were laughing and coming
once more, as passion and the realization of how free Rhianna had become hit
them both at the same time.
Matthew was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as he came down, so he
didn't notice at first when Rhianna stopped her sexual movements. Only the
lack of stimulus prompted him to notice that something had caught her
attention. She knelt upright, high on her knees, which had allowed him to
slip out of her. A slight breeze moved her hair to one side, and the
sunshine made a dappled pattern across her bare skin as it shone through the
trees.
She was staring uphill, and even with a serious expression on her face, she
still looked stunning.
But something was wrong.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I thought...there, just above that ridge."
Puzzled, Matthew began to extract himself from his wife's embrace, and he
stood up next to her. He scanned the mountain above them but saw nothing.
"What am I looking for?" he asked.
"A flash of yellow. There it is!" Rhianna answered.
"I didn't see it," he said.
Rhianna glanced up at him. "You might be at the wrong angle, come down
here."
Matthew knelt beside her, and the couple waited patiently as the winds moved
the trees covering the slope above them.
Then he saw it.
"There!" Rhianna punctuated. "Should there be anything like that up there?
That bright a yellow isn't exactly available in the Compound."
"You're right. Someone's up there," Matthew answered.
As good as Rhianna had just been feeling, she suddenly felt vulnerable,
naked and bound as she was. Despite the feeling, however, her spiced up sex
still demanded attention, and she had to force herself to concentrate on the
matter at hand.
Matthew looked very concerned at the thought of other people on the
mountain, and she understood his concern. While it wasn't fenced, the
mountain was private property, and all interlopers were gently invited to
leave.
Normally that wasn't a problem, except at this time of the year when the
local town's school was out. Teenagers would hike up here to spy or try to
get lucky with the mountain's mostly naked population. For the most part,
the members of the Compound didn't mind the spying; if they were nervous
about being looked at, they wouldn't be outside nude anyway. But the other
type of contact between the townsfolk and the young people of the compound
was frowned upon by parents from both groups, so extra steps were taken to
nip it in the bud when possible.
Everyone knew it was just kids being kids, but the people of the Compound
were as enamored of free sex as P.E.T.A. was of rabbits wearing eye shadow.
"I'll go check it out," Matthew said.
"Untie me and I'll come too," Rhianna announced.
Matthew looked at her, and Rhianna wondered if he was going to pick this
moment to have some fun maintaining his dominance over her. She was NOT his
slave or submissive, but these games usually had her on the helpless end of
the rope, and oddly enough, she didn't mind that at all. But there was a
time for play, and this wasn't one of them. Matthew nodded and moved to
untie her, and once she was free, he went to the sack still lying against
the tree.
"I hope you brought us something to wear?" Rhianna asked him. In another
life, she probably would have been rubbing her wrists after been bound by
such thin cord, but the leather wedding bands had protected her. Not for
the first time, Rhianna wondered if that was what they were originally for.
Along with nudity, bondage was not thought of as a sexual perversion in the
Compound, but as a healthy expression of affection. It was also used as a
means of punishment, but you always knew where you were with it.
"Just these," he said, tossing her a single piece of cloth.
Rhianna caught it and chuckled. It was her loincloth; wide and long enough
to cover her pussy and ass, but not much more. Matthew began tucking his
own loincloth under the rope around his waist.
"I wasn't expecting company," he said with a sheepish grin.
"Humph. At least you get to cover up all your bits!" Rhianna said in mock
anger, putting on her own loincloth.
"You'll be fine. It'll give those kids a treat to see you like that."
Rhianna stuck out her tongue.
Laughing, Matthew pulled a knife and scabbard out of the sack and strapped
it to one leg. Rhianna looked at it wistfully and thought briefly about the
gun she used to carry as an FBI agent. It was good being armed when going
into an unknown situation, but women here weren't allowed to be armed, not
even with a knife, although all were required to know how to use one. It
was one of the community laws.
"Come on," Matthew said.
"Sure thing, Tarzan," Rhianna said with a smile. Matthew grinned and began
the walk up to where they had seen the flash of yellow.
Rhianna followed him, and admired his almost naked form as he moved
stealthily up the ever-increasing slope. Unconsciously, she began to pinch
a nipple with her right hand and she had to force her mind off his butt and
on the trail they were following. The stuff Matthew had put on her would
screw her up for at least another day. It was the only downside to it.
Even though the flash had looked close, it was at least an hour's climb to
where they thought they saw it, but when they got there, they found nothing.
Well, almost nothing.
"Someone's been here," Rhianna said, looking at the ground. They were on an
outcropping with a great view of the surrounding mountains; the kind of spot
real estate agents and developers would sell their families for a chance to
own.
Matthew let Rhianna have her head; he acknowledged her superior tracking
abilities, and as she examined the ground, he kept an eye on the brush and
the slope above them. He thought he smelled smoke, but couldn't be sure.
"Yeah," Rhianna continued, "the ground is pretty muddy up here, and there's
foot prints, shoes; it wasn't one of us."
No one at the compound wore shoes outside in the summertime.
"How many?" Matthew asked.
"Just one. Yes, just the one. It could be a teenager, the shoes are small
enough."
"This is awfully high up the mountain for one of the town kids," Matthew
said, "it's not as though you can even see the Compound from here." Matthew
kept scanning the area until his eyes caught movement deep in the brush.
Something yellow had just made an appearance.
Matthew waved at Rhianna and inclined his head in the proper direction.
Rhianna caught on right away.
"Hey there!" Matthew yelled. "We know you're there, so why don't you just
come out!"
There was no movement.
Rhianna thought she would give it a try. "It's okay, we won't hurt you!"
After a few seconds, the yellow moved, and revealed itself to be a young
woman, dirty, with a bright yellow shirt on and jeans. She looked scared
and confused. Her eyes traveled from Rhianna to Matthew and back to Rhianna
again, and the former FBI agent could tell the woman was wondering why
Rhianna was running around in the woods practically naked. She forced
herself not to cover up.
She had been told by much of the population that it was better for her to
show how relaxed she was being nude in front of outsiders, even when she
wasn't. To give in would be to give in forever, and never become used to
being naked on the mountain. Giving in would give outsiders the message
that what the community was doing was wrong even to them, and that was
patently untrue.
Besides, on THIS mountain, the community did as it pleased, and no one was
to give the outsiders the impression that they could be embarrassed about
anything.
"Hi," said Rhianna, "my name is Rhianna, and this is my husband, Matthew;
are you okay?"
The woman was still trying to look at both of them at the same time. She
looked tired and wet through, but an unexpected spark of life suddenly came
to light. She straightened up a bit more and gave them both a piercing
stare.
"Say, you're not cops are you?" she asked them.
Matthew was surprised, and glanced at his wife. Rhianna's expression
narrowed a little. "No, we aren't cops."
The woman seemed to relax a little. "I'm Shawna, and I think I sprained my
ankle. Can you help me?"
Matthew and Rhianna glanced at each other, and together moved forward to
help.
End of Part One.
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