Atticus and Catty break Joy out

Looking out the window of the train would appear silly to anybody walking by our seats. Ever since leaving Shreveport, we’ve been going so fast that everything outside is simply a grey blur. Without knowing the exact train route, I can’t do the calculations in my head but with a travel time of only two hours until we reach Indianapolis and no stops, I figure we must be going about 400 miles per hour. Regardless of how it looks, I keep my eyes on the blurry grey landscapes flying by. It’s the first time in three days that I’ve had to go over everything that’s happened. The three harrowing days started that night with Atticus leading Catty in, wearing her gold collar and leash. I guess it’s fitting that I now find myself in a train, leaving Gilead, sitting next to Catty, naked as a jaybird, wearing only my own gold collar, both our leashes tied to the railing above us.

Seeing Atticus and Catty walk into the girls’ house on the Bandera Rancho was a surprise, but one I’d planned to take advantage of. I just needed to get one or both of them in private for a moment so I could figure out what their plan was and compare it to my own escape idea. But I never got that chance. A half hour after they dropped Catty off to talk to us girls and Isiah led Atticus back to the big house, we were still surrounded by the girls. That’s when the lights went out. That’s when we heard gunfire.

Catty, wearing only her gold collar and leash looked and sounded so submissive. But when the show began, she was at my side, gripping my arm, and saying in my ear “Keep your head down, your hand in mine, and for all our sakes, keep up!”

She was suddenly the strong independent woman I remembered from before our trip to this time. It didn’t matter that her body was decades younger and that she was dressed as a sex ****, she was in command and here to save me. Before Candis even got the other girls calmed down, Catty had me up and running toward the front door. Before Tiffiny called out for me, we were outside and running toward the big house.

Thinking back on it, I guess it’s just good luck that the ranch hand shot me instead of Catty. If she’d gone down, I wouldn’t have known what to do. I still don’t know what those guns look like when they shoot, but I can tell you that they hurt like a son of a bitch when it hits you in the shoulder. I vaguely remember seeing my blouse on fire and hearing my own scream before I hit the ground face first. After that, everything gets fuzzy and fragmented.

I imagine Atticus came out into the yard at that time and unleashed the capture drones. I know when he was carrying me to the carriage, I had a moment of clarity and saw Jonas and another hand bound up in two of the drones’ mechanical arms. I remember wondering where the probes that filled my ass and pussy were being used on the men before I blacked out again.

I nearly ruined our escape when I woke up. Atticus is quick on his feet though and used my panic to benefit his story. It’s hard not to panic when you wake up and are tied up in a rough hog tie with some kind of cloth gag in your mouth and a blindfold tied tightly around your head. As I woke up and started wiggling and screaming out my muffled pleas, I could hear Atticus talking outside. When the door opened and he stepped in the carriage, his voice initially calmed me a bit even as his words made me worry. “See officer, she’s fresh from the front. I’m taking her into town and expect a big finders fee. You ever see one with yellow hair before?”

I tensed up when I felt the hand cover my nose and mouth and smelled that chemical smell, but whatever knockout **** it was, worked quickly, and my next memory was waking up to darkness and quiet. My muscles ached, which now makes sense. At the time, I didn’t know I’d been left tied up like that for almost twenty hours, but that got us through and past Dallas and back onto that flat dusty road. I was more confused than scared, but that just means I was horribly confused as I was scared to ****. Catty’s voice coming from beside me was the soothing balm I needed. I swear, she could have just been reading a grocery list and I’d have calmed down. We must have still been in danger though as she told me to try and rest as best as I could, and they’d get me help soon enough.

It wasn’t long after that I heard Atticus open the door and come in that I felt his hand cover my mouth and nose again and the world, already black, snuffed out of existence again.

It was the little, tiny crossroads town of Crow that I next woke up to. The doctor was trying to keep me anesthetized, but the pain was too great. It seems the Gilead guns did direct nerve damage and if I’d been untied before, I’d have realized I’d lost all function in my right arm. As is, I was awoken to searing lightning strokes of pain in my shoulder as I heard the doctor’s voice say calmly “Hold her down or we’ll have to amputate.”

To be fair, at the time I heard him say that I didn’t realize he was talking about me. I was simply trying to do anything to get the pain to stop. Atticus’ thick strong arm wrapped around my body as he held my face to his chest and let me scream there. It still hurt, but I have to admit I felt safe enough to pass back out in his strong grip.

In retrospect, having to deal with being bound up, blinded, gagged, and in more pain than I thought imaginable was the easier part of our three-day journey. When we got just outside of Shreveport Catty shook me awake. She told me there wasn’t much time to explain and that we’d come upon a checkpoint faster than they thought they would. Under her direction I undressed and put the golden collar on myself. It was difficult as my right arm was weak and practically useless. Once I was in the same ****-like appearance as Catty she tied my leash to a hook on the ceiling and told me to be quiet. She told me that I had to pass as a secured **** woman. She warned me that I’d be inspected and that it would be awful, but that I had to remain silent as any protest would shine a bright light on the lie she and Atticus were selling.

Catty’s preparatory words were enough to keep my lips sealed as the inspection truly was humiliating. It was Jonas all over again. Catty and I were leashed to a pole at some roadside building while a couple men roughly and uncaringly patted our naked flesh down. They used dirty tools to inspect deep into both of our orifices. Ears, nose, mouth. Ass, pussy. I again allowed myself to be cattle being inspected. I didn’t even consider the brand until the man inspecting us had the tool up my rear, pulling me to my tip toes as I tried my hardest to not cry out. When his hand slapped over my ass, right over the brand, I knew it was bad. Catty’s and my hands were quickly bound behind our backs before we were **** face to face. Our breasts were crushed together as belts bound our thighs, waists, and shoulders to each other.

The rational part of my mind told me it was okay. That Atticus was just playing a part to get us free of this nightmare land. But that part of my brain was frayed and torn and not the dominant voice in my head. Emotionally it was terrible to hear Atticus change his story on the fly, changing from presenting Catty and I as his personal slaves to showing us off as stolen property. His cockiness at offering us as payment for the guards’ letting us pass was almost as bad as feeling the guard come up behind me. As bad as watching the other guard come up behind Catty and stare lustily into my eyes.

I tried to put myself into the mindset of a woman in this horrible place, to make myself BE property, but feeling him spread my ass open, feeling him press up against my resistant pucker and push roughly and uncaringly inside, made me cry out. As the man breathed lustily on the back of my head, buried balls deep inside my tortured ass, the other man went and found another dreadful tool. The ball gag was at least not going into my throat but as he pulled only half of the straps tight around my head I was introduced to its insidious nature. Catty’s head was tilted before being pushed forward and onto the gag. With a few pulls of the straps around her head we were now both gagged with the same leather ball. Our lips could touch, could kiss, as we were both used by those two abhorrent men. Occasionally the guard’s thrust into Catty and I matched up, pressing us tightly against each other, pushing the breath out of us, making us cry and moan into our **** gagged kiss. Mostly, however, they fucked us at their own paces. Catty’s tormentor used quick shallow thrusts, slapping his thighs against her ass while my ruffian used long slow strokes making me feel every bulge and vein of his cock.

When they were done Atticus was able to sit and share a drink with them. Again, my rational mind tried to convince me that he was just playing his part to get us free, but my emotional side couldn’t stop hating him for having Catty and I **** and then casually sharing a whisky with our abusers while laughing off the whole encounter.

The guards ‘helped’ Atticus by un-binding and then hogtying Catty and I before tossing us cruelly back into the carriage. I could hear that we weren’t alone on the road and without an obvious place to stop and unbind us, Catty and I spent hours stuck like that. I didn’t hear any of the ticketing process but eventually two men pulled Catty and I from the carriage, unbound us completely except for our collars, and led us into the train car. The car itself was a mixture of economy class and cattle car. It was only half full, but all of its occupants were women similar to Catty and I. Only one wore more than a collar, although all the collars were individualized. Leather, satin, rope… along with our leashes, they all performed the same task of keeping us tied to the roof rails. Our arms and legs were free, but unless we took the collars off we only had a few inches to move and were held sitting ramrod straight up.

On my mental route, it was somewhere around Nashville that Catty showed me she was still human. Her crying was quiet but present. Many of the women cried over the two hours, me included.

When the train slowed down I tried to look through the window and confirm our location but the shades to all the windows were drawn, leaving our car dim and difficult to see in. Nothing happened for a several long minutes after we fully stopped. When the door opened a man walked in and for the first time in what felt like eternity, looked at me with empathy and made me feel human. He was wearing what I could only describe as a light blue and yellow outdated postal uniform. Pale blue shirt, dark yellow tie, darker blue fitted jacket, and similarly colored slacks. The yellow service cap had an official looking metal badge on it, though I couldn’t see what was written there. “Ladies, welcome to the Alliance of Mishigami People. My name is Eldred Zayne, and I’m a customs and border agent here in Indianapolis. I’m going to get you all processed and moved on to your next stops. Please be patient with me as it will take some time to get you all disembarked and through customs. But I promise each and every one of you, your time as being property or worse is over. Again, welcome to Mishigami!”

While Mr. Zayne’s speech sent a wave of excitement through all the women in the car, we still waited silently as though us speaking would make his proclamation break like so much carnival glass. He immediately untied the first woman’s leash and led her outside. Several minutes later he came back, untied the next woman’s leash, and led her out. An hour later when he came to Catty and I, he untied both our leashes and silently led us out from the train and into the station.

I barely looked around, still fearful that we’d be herded back onto the train and sent back to where we came from, but what I saw was a grand train station. Its vaulted ceilings were almost cathedral like and had murals painted everywhere. Eventually after several minutes of just looking down at my bare breasts and feet as we walked, Mr. Zayne stopped. He turned toward us, placing his hands on Catty’s and my shoulders. “Ladies, I’m handing you off to Marshall Raines. He’s another customs and border agent and he’s going to get you set up. I hope you enjoy your time in Misigami and choose to never leave us!”

Finally looking around, I see that we’re in a large cubical farm. In our particular cubical there are two plush chairs, a large desk with a blobish shaped computer terminal and integrated keyboard, and a wheeled office chair behind it. Behind the desk stands another man, dressed in the same blue and yellow uniform as Mr. Zayne. His smile felt warm and welcoming as he stood up and said “Ladies, let’s start by getting those collars off. You won’t be needing something like them ever again!”