Violently well with Kenji’s help

You’re about 5 miles out of the town’s borders. That’s where Kenji dragged the **** woman to a patch of forest that had little to no damage done to it.

Kenji is looking above her without any facial cover. It’s just his face and his blank expression. She eventually wakes up after getting slapped around and poked by Kenji, but her swollen eye flutters open.

“Konnichiwa,” Kenji says.

The woman in the snow remembers just the break-in and the disregard for noise as you and Kenji broke inside and practically everything else in it. Glasses, plates, toys, and pictures— nothing was kept out of harm's way as Kenji tackled her and beat her ****. He seemed

more vigorous than any other time you worked with him, but you didn’t work with Kenji often, so it was hard to tell.

The woman was tied and brought out to this location on horseback. There were a few onlookers, but they seemed suddenly distracted by more severe matters when they noticed your black outfits.

“Where am I? Why are you doing this?” She sounded upset, and reasonably so. “I have kids! A husband!”

Kenji looked at you and put a hand in his pants pocket, taking out the pictures of her in ungodly positions between two men. Another with her tongue out, surrounded by 4 or 5 men. She stared at the pictures and swallowed the rest of her words. “You don’t care about any of that.”

“Who… Do you even know who I am?”

Kenji stood up, throwing more evidence in the snow, including the first two. “Warren, what’s this whore’s name?”

“Client didn’t tell me,” you reply.

“But… why… Do you know anything about me?” She follows with.

“No,” Kenji says and gestures to the pictures. “Just that.”

“Then let me explain myself,” she stammers. “Please!”

Kenji says nothing, and she takes this as a chance to tell her side of the story. “My name is Stephanie. And my husband hasn’t been giving me any attention since we married!”

Stephanie snarled. “He put two kids in and then ignored me while he went off and worked all damn day. Then, he’d come home and do absolutely nothing!”

You recalled the scenes you watched with Stephanie and her husband while you chatted with Kenji, remembering the opposite. She went on, telling more of her “broken” marriage until Kenji stopped her. “Did you know any of the names of the men you let use you?”

She stammered. “Warren, was one.”

Kenji waited. So did you. She then thought harder and produced two more names, and then she stopped. “Why?” Stephanie asked.

Kenji looked at you with doubt. “I didn’t sleep with her,” you say.

Stephanie followed. “No. Your friend wasn’t a part of this. J-just the same name.”

“Would have been awkward,” Kenji snickers.

You snicker too. You suppose you’ve had a good alibi the last few months. Kenji steps over to Stephanie. “I honestly couldn’t care less about your side of the story anymore. The fact you chose to whore yourself while married is bad, but the fact did while having kids tells me you’re less than the garbage in our landfills.”

Stephanie thrashes at him, but she’s bonded. Kenji, out of reflex or just plan, cracks his fist against her nose, and she falls face first into the snow.

You look around and scratch the back of your head. “Now what?”

“Let’s set up camp. It’ll be a cold night, but we got the gear.”

When the camp is set, you have an established perimeter and have two tents in place. Stephanie is bonded but has the freedom of movement. Kenji doesn’t seem too concerned that she could try to run because he leaves her legs completely free. You suppose there’s a pretty good chance of her dying if she were to try to run away anyway.

A fire is made, and the food is brought out; it’s the same quality as what you're now used to. Light conversation happens between you and Kenji. He seems tense but still throws in a few jokes between bites. Next, you’re tasked with feeding your contract and securing her in the second tent. Inside, littering the floor are blankets, pillows, and scrapes of your equipment. Most notably, however, was the waist-high pole with a metal ring on top. When you guided Stephanie inside, she shuffled awkwardly and looked around. It’s warm inside; this is usually the tent used for the members of the ARS.

When Stephanie is secured to the pole with ropes, she looks at you nervously. Kenji takes offense to this. “What? You only like being strapped by strangers you intend to fuck?”

Oddly enough, you thought Kenji was going to **** himself on her. Rumors revolving around the Japanese were brutal, to say the least. You were going to dive into your oversea geography but stopped yourself from doing so as soon as Stephanie started to argue. “You’re going to **** me, aren’t you!?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re still married… But, unlike you, I know something sacred.” Kenji says.

She’s silent when she hears this. All she can do is cast her eyes downward. “So, you’re leaving me in here then? For the whole night?”

Kenji tugged on the rope around her wrists. “This gives you enough slack to walk around and get into your sleeping bag when it’s dark. We’ll discuss more in the morning. A little word of advice, though… if you don’t want to suffer any more than you want, I’d recommend you just tell me every question I ask.”

Neither of you waits for another. The message is sent, and depending on how stubborn she intends to be, it needs to be digested.

You unload the rest of your inside your tent. Admittedly, it’s less favorable than the one you gave your technical prisoners. Still, once you’re settled in, you go back out and sit near the fire, warming yourselves before slipping back into the less-than soundproof interior of your tent, watching the sun’s light drift further and further from its original warmth and light. Soon, it’s only the crinkle of the fire keeping you company.

“You are staying for this of this Kenji suddenly asks. You look over to him and see him staring at you.

“Don’t you need me?”

“No.” He says.

“I might stick around.”

“It’s going to get bloody,” he warns. “I hate people like Stephanie. I’m going to commit the Japanese 3’s after these people…”

“Kill all, burn all, destroy all…” you say, more of a comment than a question.

“Yes.” He says.