The Daring Prey
Alexa felt the jolt as the small plane touched down on the runway, and then the force pushing her forward as the pilot cut the power to the engine and hit the brakes. She looked out the window to see a line of trees and little else, but as the plane reached the end of the runway and turned around to taxi back to the tiny Gordburg airport, she saw low hills, lightly wooded and crowned with what looked like small but expensive mansions. Will had told her about that part of Gordburg, as well as about the high chain-link fence that separated it from the airfield. She thought that it might be interesting to visit it some time, if that was possible, but she wouldn't be doing it on this trip. This time around, she had set a very specific goal for herself, and that part of Gordburg had nothing to do with it.
She looked around at the other passengers. There were only three of them, two women in their late twenties who seemed to be traveling together, and one man some five or six years older, casually dressed and good looking, with short dark hair and a stubble of beard on his chin that didn't quite suit him. She'd already pegged him as a city guy who was trying to look like a rugged outdoorsman, and while she'd smiled at him briefly and given him a quick nod of acknowledgement when their eyes had happened to meet earlier, she wasn't interested in him at all. He hadn't seemed to be particularly interested in her either, or in the other two women passengers. Well, he probably had a specific physical type he was interested in, and was planning on looking around until he found a woman who fit. Alexa was only being honest with herself when she concluded that she wasn't most men's physical type. She wore her dark blonde hair cut very short, in a spiky version of a boy's crewcut from the 1950s, and Will had said the rest about how she looked when they'd first met here last year. She wasn't bad-looking, but her eyes were a little on the small side, and her eyebrows had always been thin. Her lips weren't as full as they might have been, but she was never going to have that 'taken care of' by a plastic surgeon, nor was she ever going to get breast implants. She was a personal fitness trainer, and she strongly believed in making the most of what you had through diet and exercise. Not all of her clients did, though, and she always had to not say the first thing she wanted to say when one of them wanted to show off the results of their latest procedure. Too many people were willing to pay for quick cosmetic results rather than put in the work to look good. It cut into her business so that she had to scramble for work sometimes. Still, she got to set her own hours, which had to count for something. If she wasn't able to do that, she wouldn't have been able to come here now, or plan to stay for as long as she had.
She felt a sense of anticipation and excitement as the plane came to a stop near the miniscule control tower. Will had been an invaluable source of information and advice about Gordburg, just as she'd hoped he would be. She knew more than enough about the place now to plan her coming adventure. And, thanks to his diligent and demanding training of her, she knew more about her own body and its responses and limitations, as well as her own mind and its darker recesses. She'd always thought of herself as a strong-willed and independent woman, but now she knew that in the hands of the right dominant man she reveled in submission. Will had done things with her and to her that she never would have imagined experiencing before, and after she'd returned home from his place in the far North, she often found herself waking up in the middle of the night, hot and sweaty and incredibly aroused by some dream already fading beyond recall from her mind. There were clubs in her area where she could have gone to meet dominant men, but she stayed away from them. She didn't know which of her customers might be patrons of one or the other of them, or have friends who were. Her appearance was distinctive enough so that even if she wore a mask, as many of the women who went to those places did, she'd be easily recognized. She'd already had trouble in the past fending off the advances of men who either didn't know or didn't care what 'no' meant. She didn't want to leave herself open to even more of that if she could possibly help it.
She hadn't been celibate in the time between saying good-bye to Will at the dock near his cabin and coming back to Gordburg, but she hadn't found the same level of intensity outside of those two locales. She would keep looking. But for now, she was back in Gordburg, and looking forward to whatever the future might bring.
The pilot cut the engines just as the cabin door opened. Alexa waited until the other passengers had disembarked to get up and retrieve her small travel bag. As she got out of the plane, she saw a baggage handler, dressed something like a cowboy, unloading everyone's luggage and placing it on a cart drawn by something that looked like an oversized golf cart, with seats for six besides the driver.
“Excuse me?”
Alexa turned towards the sound of the voice. It was a young woman in khakis, wearing a bush hat against the sun and holding a clipboard. “Alexa Marx?” she asked.
“Yes,” Alexa replied. The woman smiled warmly.
“Good,” she said. “We have your reservation, and your room is waiting for you back in town. If you'll just register inside the terminal first and then board the shuttle, you'll be taken right there.”
“I've been here before,” Alexa said. “Would it be all right if I walked there?”
The woman looked at her clipboard for a moment. “I suppose that would be all right,” she said after a moment. “But it's rather a long walk.”
“I spent hours on first one plane and then on this one,” Alexa said. “I think a nice long walk would be just the thing I need to work out the kinks.”
“If you want to,” the woman said. “But you'll still have to register in there.” She gestured towards the terminal building, which looked like a big, two-story wooden frame house with a round tower attached. The top of the tower was all tinted windows, and electronic equipment sprouted out of its roof.
“I'll do that,” Alexa nodded.
“Welcome back to Gordburg, Ms. Marx,” the woman smiled. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”
“Thanks.” Alexa went into the terminal. Registering was quick and easy once her fellow passengers were out of the way. It took no more than giving her name to the elderly gentleman behind the counter. He tapped out something on his computer keyboard, looked at her once, and then pronounced her registered. She couldn't see the computer screen, but Will had told her that in addition to bringing up her file it would provide a small headshot of her so that her identity could be verified. She thanked the old man and walked out of the building, heading south towards Gordburg. She didn't have to wonder about which way to go. There was a wide graveled road, and she could see what the woman had called the 'shuttle' disappearing down it. She started walking. It was a pleasant day, and while she'd never been much for the great outdoors before, the time she'd spent with Will had given her a new appreciation of the wonders of nature. Except for snakes. She still didn't like snakes, though she wasn't quite as freaked out by them as she had been.
She was dressed for walking, in comfortable trail boots, knee-length, loose-fitting tan shorts and a dark blue pullover. As she entered the woods, she noted that it looked very much like the area she'd played cat-and-mouse with the male hunters last year. That wasn't all that odd. Back then she'd only been a few miles east of where she was now. In a city, everything could change drastically within a couple of blocks. It was something she wouldn't have even thought about before.
She heard birds. Some were easy to identify, like crows or bluejays. Others weren't so recognizable. She watched a rabbit hop out onto the trail, notice her, and immediately scurry away. She didn't see any more animals along the way until she got to Gordburg. The gravel road ended where it joined up with the wide, sandy street that served the old part of the town, the part that looked like a set for a Western. If she looked left, Alexa could see the start of the two-lane asphalt road that was the main drag for the newer part. Over that way was her hotel, another hotel, and an assortment of taverns, restaurants and nightclubs, none of them particularly large. Gordburg was very discriminating when it came to its clientele, and it offered such unique attractions that it could well afford to be discriminating. She remembered how very difficult it was for her to get approved to come here last year as she turned right and headed into the old part of town. She was already registered, so there was no hurry for her to check in at her hotel. Her luggage would be delivered and waiting for her whenever she showed up, and she wanted to revisit some of the places she'd been to before. She walked down the main street, and took a right at the only real side street before you got to the edge of town. It wasn't quite as wide as the main street, and it dead-ended after a little ways at the huge, barnlike building she remembered so very well. The big sign over the opened double doors looked no more and no less worn and weather-beaten than she recalled. 'Slave Market', it read, in tall letters that were in a style as straight out of an old Western as the rest of this part of town. She could see men and women going into and coming out of it, all of them watched by a burly older man dressed something like a cowboy, up to and including a black Stetson hat. She smiled. That hadn't changed since last year either. She began walking towards the cowboy, making sure that she caught his eye.
“Hi,” she smiled up at him. Up close he was even taller than she'd first thought, maybe six-four or six-five, and older. There was a network of fine wrinkles at the corners of his dark brown eyes, and his face was like finely tanned leather.. “I'm Alexa Marx. I registered at the airport earlier, and I'd like to go in for a minute.” She took off her bush hat so that he could get a better look at her face.
“I remember you, ma'am,” the man smiled. “Saw you here last year when you and your friends were having that contest.” He had a deep, rumbling voice that went well with his bulk. His smile was friendly, not lustful.
“Oh, they weren't exactly my friends,” she said.
“Well, you've been here before, and I've got no reason to doubt you're all registered, just like you said, so you just go on in,” he said. “Y'all know the rules. No touching, no talking to the females.”
“I know,” Alexa grinned. “I'd just like to see how it looks from outside a cage.” She heard him chuckle as she went inside. She had, in fact, seen the slave market from outside of a cage, shortly after she'd first arrived here and she and the other three women in the competition were being shown around. However, once she'd been caught, she'd spent much more time here inside a cage, naked, with men and women always coming by to see what all the fuss had been about. It had actually become enjoyable after a while, being the focus of so much attention during the day. And at night, Will would come for her and take her to one or another of the maze of rooms here in the slave market, and she'd be the focus of his attention for the night. That had become far more than enjoyable as he'd taught her, trained her, and used her. She smiled to herself. Will was an endlessly inventive man, and she was sure that he had had more than a little to do with her winning the contest. She'd asked him about it directly, but he never gave her a clear answer.
The slave market was much as she remembered, with the same sweet-smelling hay strewn thickly over the old plank flooring, the same low stage off to one side where they held the auctions in the evenings, and the same double row of cages, six in each row, each cage just a bit too small for the average woman to stretch out in it, just a little too low to let her kneel upright. At least the thin pads that were given to each naked female provided a minimum of comfort. She saw that eight of the cages were occupied. She went over to the nearest row to have a look.
The season had just gotten into full swing here in Gordburg, and the females in the cages were all in their mid-twenties, blonde or brunette, slender or voluptuous, shy at being on display in front of strangers or taking the opportunity to flaunt their bodies shamelessly, perfectly safe in their cages from those same complete strangers. You could look at them, but you weren't allowed to try to touch or speak to them. They could look back, of course, and most of them did. One dark-eyed, dark-haired woman with caramel-colored skin and erect brown nipples stared intently at Alexa as she slowly passed by. Alexa noted that she wore no collar at all. That meant she would be 'sold' at a slave auction some evening. A leather collar usually meant that the female had an 'owner' or two and was here on display as part of her training. A chain collar usually meant that a female had put herself in the slave market, for training and eventual auction.
There were a few other women wandering through the slave market, but most of the patrons were men. Even with caged naked females to look at, most of them cast occasional glances at the women. One of them caught Alexa's eye and smiled at her. She smiled back. He didn't seem familiar to her, but that didn't mean he hadn't seen her caged up last year. He began walking over to her, and she stood her ground, curious to see what he might be like. He wasn't dressed like any of the slave market personnel. He was wearing jeans, but with a dark blue sports jacket over a white shirt that was only buttoned halfway up. He looked presentable enough. His hair was kind of a dishwater blonde, wavy, worn long and slicked back, and there was a two day's growth of darker beard on his rugged chin. She'd seen that style a few too many times, but he had nice dark eyes and she didn't see any hint of gold chains around his neck, so she let him come close.
“Hello,” he smiled and nodded. “I'm Carl.” He held out his hand.
“Alexa,” Alexa said, ignoring his hand. She waited for him to make the next move.
“Have you been here before?” he asked.
“Yes,” Alexa replied. “Just once. You?”
“This is my third visit,” he said. “I could show you around, if you like.”
It occurred to Alexa that pickup lines were pickup lines, no matter where they were uttered.