REVOLT ON GOR

By Rummah

Chapter 2: Captured!

Most of the crowd had left by the time I hit the locker room. The sport was never that popular and tended to draw a small but dedicated group of fans. By the time I had shook hands and gave the mandatory high-fives, most of them were dwindling away. I accepted the congratulations from the few other women in the locker room and headed to the showers.

Refreshed, I left the stalls to find an empty room. That didn’t surprise me, I figured the other woman would be heading out by now to join friends and share their war stories over dinner. I began to idly pack my duffel bag, making sure the medallion stayed on the top of my clothes. My body armor and weapons lay arranged by me in a neat and orderly pattern.

A cough drew my attention and I turned expecting to meet another woman coming to congratulate me. Instead, three men stood now before me. Somehow they had managed to enter the room without making a sound.

The one in the middle was about six feet tall and had a shaved head. What caught my attention was the tattoo on his forehead: a black dagger. To his right and left stood two other men, also with shaved heads, but not wearing the dagger tattoo. They were all wearing stylish leather coats and had smiles on their faces. The thugs on his sides resembled pieces of angle iron. The one on his right held a set of absurdly large manacles; so crudely constructed I took it to be some kind of joke. "Get the hell out" I told them. I was stark naked, having just toweled off from the shower. Neither one of them had been at the tournament that I could remember. "I said leave before I call for security." "The building is vacant on this side", smirked the man with the dagger mark. "And we’ll keep you nice and secure." His friend on the right held up the over-sized manacles. This wasn’t funny. These assholes were deadly serious. Well maybe they liked their prey to fight back. I decided to find out.

I grabbed the wooden sword next to me and blasted Dagger Head on his slick head. Fortunate for him he’d moved in time to avoid the full power of my strike or his brains would’ve been scattered over the wall. As it was, the glancing shot sent him reeling across the locker room floor. The man with the cuffs swung at me, but I reverse-snapped his arm, neatly rendering that useless. He screamed in pain, dropping what he’d carried. The third member of the party had vanished when I turned to see if he wanted to dance as well. Instead of going after his retreating form, which I should’ve done, I dropped the weapon and ran for the locker room door. This was the first time in my life that I’d ever experienced any danger to my person and I’d had no training in how to deal with it outside a highly structured game. I ran barefoot toward the exit, hoping someone was nearby and I could get help.

He was waiting for me behind the locker next to the door. As soon as my hand touched the handle, he slammed into me from where I hadn’t been looking, tossing my nude form into another bank of lockers. I picked my self up in time for the brute to grab me from behind in a bear hug. As I struggled uselessly in the grip of the larger man, I saw Dagger Head slowly walking toward me. I yelled for help, but no one responded. There was blood on his head that he was trying to sop with a handkerchief. At least I’ll go down knowing the bastard was hurt, I thought. Dagger Head stood and regarded me for a moment. Then he grinned and produced a mask from his coat pocket. With one quick motion he pushed the mask on my face. I coughed as a powerful scent entered my lungs. My conciseness began to fade. "I hope she’s worth it", I heard the thug behind me say, " because we’re going to have a hard time patching you up before we get out of here." My body suddenly went slack.

The drug left me paralyzed. I was aware that my hands were being locked behind me in the manacles, but I could do nothing to stop it. I was surprised that such big iron cuffs were necessary to capture me, later I was to learn that their role is mostly for effect. I was aware of Dagger Head directing the gruesome twosome to place me gently into a luggage bag and to be sure the zipper was open enough to give me air. Later I would also learn that the mask had contained capture scent, a powerful anesthetic that Gorean slavers use to take their victims down.

The two big guys with Dagger Head regarded me before placing my numb form in the bag. The one I had already hit had his arm wrapped with gauze. Had I been able to grin I would’ve. I wasn’t really afraid at that point; more annoyed; angered that they could do anything to me they wanted. I’d heard about date-rape drugs, but those were supposedly administered in a drink. What these three had hit me with worked a lot quicker. I wasn’t worried they were planning to do me right then; it seemed they had bigger plans for me; ones that involved me being delivered intact to someone. "I though you said she would be unarmed", the brute with the wrapping on his arm said. "She was without a gun", Dagger Head returned as he checked the bandage freshly-taped to his head. "I didn’t believe she would get to that club so quickly." "This is gonna cost you extra." It was thug #2, the one who had slammed me into the lockers. "I thought this was going to be another rich bitch in a club. That cunt broke Frank’s arm." "Silence!" Dagger Head ordered. "She can hear every word we say." "Like it’ll do her any good", he snickered. "You never assume success in any operation. That’s why I’ve been in this trade as long as I have." I hoped dagger head’s had would at least require stitches. Maybe even leave a scar. Next time he went after a lone woman, he would be taking more caution. Perhaps enough to get his ass caught. "She’s for a special client", he continued. "I don’t usually get orders for unique types, but some of them have special needs. This one met the requirements." "Still don’t know why you bother", commented thug #1, the one with the sling. "Especially when there’s so many already trained back there." "Enough talk! Let’s get her out of here."

I was placed in the black travel bag. The bag was zipped up most of the way, leaving me alone in the dark, with a ray of light coming through to show the breathing hole. I wasn’t able to tell how I looked being transported out of the building, but my guess was that we looked like another group of fighters leaving late, carrying a too-big armor bag. No one would’ve thought we looked out of the ordinary at that time. I could hear various conversations as they carried me across what I guessed to be the parking lot. Some of the other fighters were still there. I prayed someone, anyone, would challenge my captors, but no one said a thing to them and I was powerless to speak. Soon I heard the door of the van slide open. I was carefully laid down in the back as I heard the others enter the van and shut the doors behind themselves. I had no idea how long the drive would last, but I prayed the drug would wear off in time for me to escape. I had it planned out: act paralyzed until one of them got too close. Then a kick to his jewel box and a fist to the windpipe of the next. If anything blunt were around, I’d use it on Dagger Head’s skull again. I wanted to see his head opened up all the way this time. But if not, I’d make for the nearest grove of trees. The effects of the drug lingered. I remained immobile during the long drive away from the tournament. I felt my breasts juggle as the van entered a highway ramp and the engine sped-up. It was night surely by then. A few times my captors unzipped the bag to make sure I was breathing, but by and large I was left alone. After what seemed like three hours, I felt the van leave the highway and slow down to residential speed. I kept waiting for the drug to wear off; hoping now would be the best time to escape. Even if I was being taken to some rich sicko’s country estate, there would be a woods to hide in. I could see the headlines now: "Female Athlete Captured by Banker Rapist". I was sure I was smarter than my captors Finally the van came to a stop. I heard the door open and the three leave the vehicle. They left me inside, but the drug kept me immobilized. In the background, I could hear the sounds of crickets and frogs. Other sounds of humanity- car, voices- were absent. We were in a very rural area; the Pine Barrens, most likely. The bag was unzipped. I felt hands reach in and pull me out. Thugs #1 and #2 held me upright to face the man with the dagger mark on his head. I guessed now I would find out what they wanted me for. "End of the line, slut", #2 grinned. "Nope, I don’t get to be the one who pops your cherry. I think you’d have been a lot of fun." I resolved that if I ever made it through this ordeal, he would learn a thing or two about smashed fruit. Or maybe I’d just slit his throat. "It’s about time," dagger head noted. He was looking at the luminescent watch on his wrist. All three men turned and looked at the sky. At first I though it was a helicopter. Which made me wonder what degradations were in store for me if some rich bastard had gone to such trouble having me kidnapped. I’d heard stories of decadent rich people whom had unsuspecting citizens snatched away for their amusement. Maybe I was to be the main course on an isolated island. What I thought was a helicopter, however, didn’t make the least sound. And it was the wrong shape for a helicopter. As it made its landing I saw it illuminated by the light of the full moon. A flying saucer. That was the only words that came to mind. It sat on the ground and began to make a pulsating noise that was quite pleasant. It was made of some shiny metal and looked to be about two hundred feet in diameter. There was no visible landing gear or other instruments extending from the bottom. It just sat there perfectly balanced. Nor could I see any form of propulsion unit. Suddenly a ramp opened up from the bottom and three bearded men emerged from the saucer. One was dressed in green robes; the other two wore red tunics. They carried a small metal and glass case between them as they walked down the ramp. But even in the moonlight I could see how physically powerful they were. I was drug over to meet them and the case was lowered in front of me. It sprang-open and was revealed to be empty. Suddenly I was aware of its purpose. The man with the dagger mark on his head spoke to the newcomers in a language which I didn’t understand at the time. The two men inspected me and seemed satisfied. They looked at the wounds I’d given the party which had captured me and asked a few questions. Dagger head responded in curt tones. They turned and looked at me with astonishment. Quickly, they dropped me in the capsule and closed the lid. All was suddenly darkness.