Wyldcat: The Beginning
of a Legend
By Paradox
Foreword
The year is 2035, and the world has gone the way of the ancients. No longer do massive computers run the world. The only ones who are permitted such devices are the governments, otherwise known as the Governmental Law Enforcement or GLE, who use them to keep track of births, deaths, arrests, and other such matters on a new world inside the computers known as the Labyrinth. Only the governments hold control of these computers, very few else. Technological advances have also been regulated by these governments, for use on their personal security force or sometime the local law enforcement units. Cars and other automotive transportation have been outlawed, with few choice exceptions. Instead, horses and other such manual carriers have become the way of travel. Firearms are also a thing of the past. Although such weapons do exist, they are far less frequent. The populace has turned to the old ways of combat, using weapons such as swords, axes, and staffs.
Slavery has become increasingly more common, with traders and trainers aplenty. Although the governments proclaim that they oppose such vocations, they do not stop them either. Most, in fact, hold slaves themselves, relishing in the feeling of being superior. The women of society, as a whole, have become more subservient, with most having their only goal in life to please a man or men. While not slavery in itself, it is a close second.
Yet in such a society that thrives upon the weak, there are a few who oppose such things. Such people took the law into their own hands, doing what they thought was right when no one else would. More often than not, they did the right thing, and were misunderstood. They were hunted down by the law of the past, persecuted by a society that was too afraid that they agreed with what they did. In days past, these people were called vigilantes.
Today, they are called Shadows. This is the story of one such Shadow.
Prologue
A sharp slap across her face drew a fearsome cry, but quieted any further words. “You will speak only when I command you to,” the large man said, “Not before. Am I understood?”
“Yes master,” the girl whispered, her eyes demurely lowered.
“Good, now place your wrists behind your back, so you clasp your arms.”
The girl complied obediently, her head bowed in defeat. Terrance Fillborn smiled as he nodded to the one of the two men in suits standing behind the girl. The man walked forward and quickly fastened the girl’s wrists with a silken cord. From there, he fed a long length of the cord around her waist, fastening it behind her just above the crest of her buttocks. With this done, the girl would be very limited in any movements with her arms. When Terrance looked back at the girl, he saw tears streaming down her cheeks. She was frightened, that was good. It was always good for a new slave to be frightened in the beginning, it taught them to respect the power he held over them.
Cocking his head to the side, he regarded the girl once more. She was young, no older than twenty, twenty-one at the most. His men had found her wandering around Central park, smiling up at the starlit sky with out a care in the world. They had told him she had screamed and struggled quite fiercely when they had grabbed her, like a frightened fawn they had said. “What is your name?”
“Stacy.”
Terrance slapped her again across the face, this time toppling her from her knees so she lay on the floor, the two strips of white cloth at her waist that had been draped down her front and rear splayed out, revealing a thin pair of silken white panties. Terrance licked his lips at the barely seen sight of her sex beneath the thin undergarment. “What is your name,” he commanded in a harsher tone.
“Whatever would please you Master,” the girl whispered desperately.
Terrance nodded in approval. His trainer had done a superb job with the girl. She had only spent two days with him and already she was learning obedience towards her masters. This was good. “She still seems defiant,” he mentioned to the stout man standing beside him.
The slave trainer shrugged. “I have only had her for two days, it’s not unexpected. If I had another week she would be better. ”
By this time, the girl, Stacy, had struggled to her knees. When she heard the slave trainer speak, her eyes widened in fear. “Master,” she begged, “Please do not send me back there! I am not defiant. I wish only to please you. Please M-”
Her words were cut off as Terrance slapped her so hard she fell to the ground and slid back a foot. The girl wept openly, as much from fear as pain. Terrance glared at her hard as he slowly walked over to the cowering form. “You deny me by speaking when you are not told to,” he snarled at her. Turning back to the slave trainer, he made a dismissive motion with his hand and said, “Train her until she is nothing more than a shape willing only to please me.” The girl moaned.
“I’ll handle it,” the trainer said, moving over to the girl. Fisting a hand in her auburn hair, he yanked hard, causing her to cry out. “Little slave bitch, you’ll learn respect or-”
His words trailed off when he noticed something peculiar. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as the tiny red dot on his hand slowly traced up his arm, over his shoulder, and disappeared from view. The trainer began to sweat, knowing the dot had eventually alighted on his forehead. Spinning, he cried out, “Intruder!”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth, his face exploded in a shower of blood, bone, and gray matter. The menagerie of gore sprayed over Terrance, thoroughly ruining his silk sleeping finery. Yet, he was not concerned by the damage done to his attire. He was more concerned about the method by which it had come about. “Protect me!” he yelled, fear trickling into his voice.
The two men in suits spun about, bringing the submachine guns slung across their chests to bear. They scanned the room, hunting for any signs of someone there who shouldn’t be. Working quickly and thoroughly, they searched the entire room, finding nothing. One turned back to Terrance, a worried expression on his face. “There’s nothing here boss.”
Suddenly, the wall behind him exploded in, throwing the man onto his back and raining plaster and tile on him. From the hole in the wall, a shadow emerged, a long black coat flapping at its ankles. Two pistols were in his hands, each one presenting a red beam in the dust from their laser sights. Two glowing red eyes looked out at the group of four, tracking from the guards, who sat dumbfounded, to the girl who cowered on the floor, to Terrance sweating at the back of the lush bedroom. The shadow shook its head and a smile gleamed in the low light.
“Terrance, Terrance,” a voice said with scolding, “You’ve been such a naughty boy.”
“Who are you?” Terrance asked with less conviction in his voice than he wanted.
The shape shrugged and snapped up the guns, putting a bullet in the head of each guard, dropping him to the rug where the blood from the wounds could soak into the fabric. “When one preys upon the weak kittens, one needs to expect the fiercer of breed to step in.”
The slave master gasped, his hand going to his throat. “Wyldcat,” he whispered.
“Two points!” The sound of the gun going off was the last thing Terrance heard before he fell to the floor, half of his face decorating the wall behind where he had stood.
The shadow walked over to the girl and knelt down next to her, his coat sweeping around his bent legs. The girl whimpered and tried to squirm back, with only minimal success. “It’s okay,” the shadow said quietly, “I won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”
The girl’s eyes widened and she bowed her head. “Whatever would please you Master,” she whispered.
The shadow shook his head. “No, no, you can tell me your name, it’s okay.”
For several moments, the frightened girl looked indecisive. Then, in a tiny voice, she said, “Stacy.”
“Stacy, I’m going to take you out of here. You can go back to your normal life and not worry about anyone like this doing anything like this to you again.”
“You do not wish me Master?” the girl asked, fear of being rejected in her eyes.
The shadow uttered a quiet chuckle. “Not in the way you think. You’re a pretty girl, you deserve a better life than slavery.” Drawing out a black knife, he quickly cut her bonds and helped her to her feet. “Come on, let’s go.”
“What will I do?”
The shadow offered her a comforting smile. “Live.”
1
Wyldcat stood atop the high cliff’s edge, feeling the wind at his back play with his long blond hair, a lock of it braided so it fell just to the right of his temple. His long, black trench coat flapped in the breeze, almost happily. His sharp, catlike green eyes scanned over the cityscape below, dotted with torches and lamps that tried to frighten away a night that knew no fear. Down there, and beyond, were countless numbers of unknown girls, all subjugated to some form of abuse. Each one was being trained, even as he gazed, to serve their Masters to his pleasure, whatever form that might take, menial or perverse. Yet he was only one man, and he could only do what he could, when he could do it.
With a sigh, he spun and walked over to the stone walls, rising to form another mountain peak stretching high above. Pressing his hand to a nondescript portion of the wall, he whispered the word, “Den.” As soon as he had spoken the word, he stepped into the wall, and passed through it.
As he walked into the chamber beyond, gleaming with illegal metal and technology, the steel wall slid back into place over the holographic image of the mountainside. The cavern was huge, stretching up more than thirty feet up and fifty feet across. All around were divided sections for various purposes. There were several sleeping quarters that were shut off from the electric lights that burned bright. A single wall was adorned with an armory ranging from swords and staffs to high powered assault rifles. Wyldcat smiled at the assortment and walked over to the feasting area, which held a vast assortment of ovens, stoves, and microwaves.
Bent over the stove and cooking something on the blue flames, a young man no more than five years over Wyldacat’s own twenty-eight years looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Hey Cat.”
“How’s it going Jack?”
“I’m doing better than you.”
Wyldcat raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”
Jack waved a callused hand at the table and Wyldcat sat down. The young man lifted a steaming pot in muscular arms that threatened to rip out of the tight black shirt he wore. Bringing the pot over to the table, he set it down, not that he appeared to have any problems with holding the heavy pot for another couple of hours. Using a ladle, he spooned out a portion of the delicious smelling stew into a white bowel. Wyldcat sniffed at the meal and smiled. “Smells good.”
Jack sat down and stared at his companion. “I heard about your run in with Terrance. Did you have to make it so bloody?”
Wyldcat shrugged and ate a spoonful of the stew. “I’ve been tracking this guy for months; I wanted him gone before I lost him again.”
“Did he have anyone?”
Wyldcat nodded. “Yeah, a girl named Stacy. She’d been pretty well disciplined by the time I got to her, but I think she’ll be able to salvage something.”
Jack shook his head. “You know Cat, you can’t save all of them.”
The young Shadow smiled, revealing what some called a birth defect. His canines were slightly enlarged, giving him a kind of fanged look. This, in combination with his fingernails being naturally sharp and claw-like, had been the inspiration for his name. “No, but I can try.”
“Of course you can,” an strong voice said quietly, “But that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to.”
Both Wyldcat and Jack turned to see an elderly man with a mane of snowy white hair walking towards them, the weight of his right leg dependent upon the ornately carved silver walking stick. Wyldcat remembered the first time he had ever seen the stick. It had been when he had made it when he was ten. It had been intended as a gift, and had been taken as such. Jack stood up and smiled. “You want some dinner Thomas?”
The elderly man smiled and nodded. “Thank you Jack, I would appreciate it. Judging from the scents I have been smelling from my room, I dare say it will be a wonderful feast.”
Wyldcat crooked his spoon in Thomas’ direction. “A little on the spicy side, but pretty good otherwise.”
Jack smiled and gave Wyldcat a rap on the back of the head, to which the Shadow responded with a swift block and a light elbow into the ribs. The muscular young man retrieved another bowel and filled it with stew, placing it before Thomas. The old man nodded his thanks and began to eat. There was a time of comfortable silence, eat man focusing on his food. Finally, Thomas looked up and asked, “I take it the mission went well?”
Wyldcat nodded and said around a mouthful of stew. “No problems.”
“Good, were there any slaves there?”
The young man nodded. “Yeah. I freed the ones in the pens and found one in Terrance’s private chambers. I had to work on her a little, she’d been trained and was pretty new.”
“Is she well?”
Wyldcat shrugged. “I hope so. I freed her, gave her some clothes and some money, and let her go. By then, the GLE was starting to show up.”
Thomas nodded and continued to eat. Wyldcat watched the old man, once again taken by the way he was such a fatherly figure. He knew Wyldcat’s capabilities and was confident in his decisions. It was encouraging that he had not even batted an eye at the knowledge that the Government Law Enforcement had showed up. The young man sighed and continued to eat.
“Hey,” a sleepy voice yawned, “Don’t you know how to wake a guy up for a meal!”
“If you wished dinner, Curtis, you should have set your alarm.”
A trim man in his early thirties with short brown hair clad only in a pair of tight-fitting black shorts dropped down into the one remaining vacant seat. He scratched the back of his head and yawned again. “You’re harsh Tom.”
The old man chuckled and pushed an empty bowel over to the new arrival. Jack spooned out some stew into the bowel and Curtis attacked the meal with vigor. “Boy, you’re hungry tonight,” Jack remarked.
“He’s always hungry,” Wyldcat quipped.
“And?” Curtis challenged with a raise of an eyebrow.
Wyldcat made a sound and upended the bowel, draining the last of its contents. He stood and brought the bowel to the sink before grabbing an empty one and walking back over to the table. He took the ladle and spooned out a generous portion. Taking a clean spoon, he started off towards the living quarters. “Why do you keep doing this?” Jack asked with disdain.
Wyldcat glared over his shoulder at the young man, causing him to shrink back slightly in his chair. “It’s all she knows Jack, I tried to help her but the scars just run too deep, you know that as well as I do.”
Jack waved his hand, dismissing the comment. “Yeah, whatever.”
Thomas threw Jack a stern look, making the young man duck his head. He looked back at Wyldcat and nodded. “Go on Wyldcat, take care of our kitten.”
Wyldcat nodded and continued to the living area. He walked passed three doors and stopped at the third one. Taking a breath, he turned the knob and walked in. It took a few scant moments for his eyes to adjust from the bright exterior lights to the intensely dimmed ones. Although the four of them had more than enough electrical power to run their haven for at least a century, Thomas had insisted that they try to be sparing in some areas. The living quarters had been one of those areas. After all, there was more than enough room in the hollowed out mountain to find a private corner. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Wyldcat looked around, becoming familiar with the room he called his own. Being away from home for a month tended to dull the memory and it was always nice to refresh it.
The room was large, at least twice the size of the other three which were only about ten feet by ten feet. A large bed sat along one wall, soft covers and blankets adorning it. A small desk with a laptop computer was butted up in the opposite corner. The floor surrounding the bed was adorned with large, soft pillows. Upon those pillows knelt a young girl in slave attire. She was the picture of loveliness. Long blond hair spilled halfway down her back in shimmering waves of spun gold. Crystal blue eyes looked down demurely at the soft, beautiful curves of her body. Around her throat she wore a collar made of gold. When the door softly clicked shut, she looked up in surprise and then quickly back down at her hands, which were laid on her thighs in the proper slave fashion of submission. “Good evening Kitten,” Wyldcat said quietly.
“Good evening Master,” the girl whispered.
“Where the others okay to you while I was gone?”
Kitten nodded minutely, her eyes remaining lowered. “Yes Master, Kitten was treated kindly.”
Wyldcat walked over to and lowered himself to one knee, placing the bowel before her. “Here, I brought you some dinner.”
“Thank you Master,” the girl whispered. She slid to her hands and knees and started to lap the broth like the animal of her namesake.
“Hey, hey,” Wyldcat said softly, gently lifting her chin with his forefinger, “You promised to try and eat with utensils, remember?”
The girl’s eyes widened in shock and fear. She immediately bent and kissed the ground just in front of his boots. “Forgive Kitten Master, she has forgotten in your absence.”
Wyldcat carefully drew her back up to her knees and placed the spoon in her hand. “It’s okay, I’m not mad.”
“Thank you Master.” She took the spoon delicately and sipped some of the broth. “Master, when will you allow Kitten to serve you?”
Although he tried to smile, Wyldcat was sure it came just short of that. “I told you, I don’t want you to serve me, or anyone else. I want you to be your own person.”
“But Kitten belongs to you Master.”
Wyldcat sighed and shook his head, gently running his fingers through her silken hair. “Go ahead and eat, you must be hungry.”
“Only if it would please Master.”
Wyldcat nodded. “It would, go ahead and eat,” he said, indicating the broth.
Kitten returned to the broth, eating carefully, so as not to spill even a minute drop. Wyldcat sighed again and stood, pulling off his coat and draping it across the bed. The girl had been with them for almost a year now. He had found her when he had gone on one of his slave-freeing missions. She had been fifteen at the time, and a slave for three years before that. The entire time, from what she had told him, she was tormented by pleasures and pains of the flesh. She had been whipped, beaten, bound, starved, and forced to dance for the enjoyment of men. Fortunately, no man had taken her to his bed. Apparently, they had been to enthralled by her innocence and had no desire to spoil it. When he had raided the slave master’s home and freed the rest of the slaves, she had begged him to take her. He had killed her Master, and she was therefore his property. He had not wanted to take her with him, he had only wanted her to be free. Yet, she had begged him profusely, falling prone before him and weeping her pleas. Wyldcat hadn’t had it in his heart to simply leave her to the next vile soul to claim her as his own and took her in. That and the fact that the GLE had burst into the room and caused a severe gunfight that would have left her for dead was a decisive factor.
After he had brought her to the Den, he had tried to help her become her own person, but the girl had been trained to be a slave nearly from the moment she was able to grasp the concept in the slightest. Being a slave was all she knew, and nothing Wyldcat did could change that. He soon had come to accept her that way and tried to help any way he could. Yet despite all his efforts, in body and mind, she was still a slave, and he was her Master.
“How’s the food?” Wyldcat asked.
Kitten looked up, her innocent eyes not meeting his. “Kitten thanks you for the meal, Master.”
“Is it good?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes Master.”
“Great, I’ll let Jack know that he can still be the cook.”
“Would he not if Kitten had said otherwise?” the girl asked, fear jumping into her eyes and her voice.
“No,” Wyldcat said with a chuckle, “I was just making a joke.”
“Yes Master.”
The Shadow bowed his head slightly and nodded. This was the way things were, he just had to accept them. “I’m going to go take care of a few things, and then I’ll be right back, okay.”
“Yes Master.”
He leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, which caused her to shudder with pleasure, and stood up. Throwing her a wink, he walked out of the room and headed over to the large training area. Jack and Curtis were already well into their fighting practice, which usually lasted for three hours at least. Since Wyldcat had just returned from a mission, he had little concern about the time he had missed. Pulling off his shirt, he stretched out his muscles in preparation for the attack to come. Thomas, seated off to the side of the open floor, nodded at Wyldcat. “Are you ready?”
Wyldcat smiled at the two men, both more muscular then he. “Bring it on.”
Jack came in first with a hard roundhouse punch. Wyldcat parried it and spun as the second punch came in from Jack’s other fist, aimed at his stomach. He pivoted and swept out his leg, catching Jack in the back of the knees and pulling his legs out from under him. As the man fell, Wyldcat used Jack’s prone form as a hand grip and cartwheeled across him, swinging his feet to catch Curtis in the face as he rushed it. Yet the older man saw the move coming and dodged out of the way, grabbing Wyldcat’s ankle and hurling him through the air. The young man tucked in his arms and legs and flipped twice through the air before dropping onto his feet. As soon as he landed, he saw both men charge at him for both sides. He had maybe two seconds before they were on him.
It was more than enough time. Just as Curtis’ kick came in, Wyldcat caught the leg and swept out the other one, sending the man tumbling to the ground. Quickly ducking out of the way, he avoided Jack’s punch by a few scant inches. Once in a crouch, he shot out his foot, catching the man in the stomach and doubling him over. As Jack fell to his knees, wheezing, Wyldcat pivoted and drove a fist into Curtis’ chest, blasting the air from the man’s lungs. As the two men tried to draw air, Wyldcat set himself up for a pair of finishing blows that would take them out of the fight for good.
“Hold!” Thomas called. Wyldcat froze. “Well done Wyldcat, your skills are as honed as ever.” The old man stood and walked over. He looked down at the two gasping men and shook his head with a smile. “You two, apparently, need some more work.”
“Hey, give us a break,” Jack wheezed, “I’ve been doing research for the passed two weeks.”
“Yeah,” Curtis agreed, “And I’ve been doing the recon for it.”
“No excuse,” Thomas scolded, “You should always keep up with your training.” He looked at Wyldcat. “You look worn out, why don't you get some rest.” The young man nodded. “As for you two,” he said, redirecting to the two men on the ground, “You will continue training for another two hours.”
Wyldcat smiled as he heard the two moan melodramatically, and walked away, stopping to pick up his shirt. “I’m going to inventory my gear and test it out tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder.
“Good idea,” Jack called back, “I’ll give you a hand, I’ve got a few ideas for some of your stuff.”
Wyldcat threw them a wave and headed to his room. Just before he entered, he stopped in front of the door and paused, considering. He knew what awaited him in the room, like always. And, like always, he both dreaded it and adored it. With a sigh, he opened the door and walked inside.
Once in the door, he looked down to see Kitten knelt at his feet, her head down. She awaited obediently, as always, for her to be commanded. “You’ve been waiting for me?”
“Master has said he would return soon, and Kitten awaits him.”
Wyldcat sighed and shook his head. “Come on, let’s get some rest.”
“Does Master wish to use Kitten?”
“Use?” His eyes went wide. Never before had the girl ever been so bold as to ask such a question. From what he had seen from her, she was terrified of sex, her former masters had made sure of that. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Kitten is slave, she only wishes to please.”
“Come,” Wyldcat said quietly, offering a hand to her. Kitten cautiously looked up and gingerly took the hand, hesitating just before her fingers touched his, as though she suspected a trap of some kind. When her warm flesh finally met his, her body shivered with an emotion that Wyldcat could not identify. Something in the back of his mind said it was pleasure. Holding her hand, he walked over to the bed and sat her down on it. “Go ahead, you chose what side you want.” Normally, Wyldcat would have opposed to sleeping in the same bed with the girl unless he intended to take her. Yet, for the entire time he had kept her company, she had always begged and pleaded with him, usually in tears, that she be allowed to sleep in his bed with him. The first time this happened, he had been a little edgy about the idea. Yet, when he had climbed into the bed, fully ready for the girl to slip under the covers next to him, she had surprised him.
That surprise was no longer evident as he watched Kitten climb, on hands and knees, onto the bed, and position herself at the foot of the bed, her legs tucked together with her feet beside her right thigh. Her hands remained in her lap and her head was raised, turned slightly to the side, revealing the gold collar she wore snugly around her throat. Her eyes closed. Wyldcat had recognized the position she was in from his various slave-freeing missions. She was assuming the chaining position, where a girl shows her master her collar so he might have easy access to fasten a chain to it. When Kitten had first assumed the slave position, he told her he did not wish to chain her. Yet, she had begged him to do so. When her tears had begun to spill, Wyldcat’s heart had broken and he submitted himself to chaining her collar to the bedpost. It was that same chain around the foot of the bed that he snapped onto the collar, effectively keeping her within three feet of the bed at all times.
With this bit of ceremony completed, Kitten watched as Wyldcat pulled off his black combat trousers and climbed under the covers of the bed, clad only in a pair of tight black shorts. Once he had settled himself on his back, he closed his eyes in preparation to go to sleep. No sooner had he done that, he felt a shift in the mattress. Moments later, he felt a warm body press against him. Looking through slitted eyes, he saw Kitten curled up against him, her head resting upon her hands, her face partially resting on his chest. Wyldcat permitted himself a small smile and closed his eyes.
It was not always that Kitten was so bold as to allow herself to touch that whom she considered her Master. When she had first arrived and was chained to the bed, Wyldcat had been surprised when he had laid down for rest and she had curled up at his feet, like that of a pet and its master. Soon, though, she grew slightly bolder and bolder until she had taken to sleeping with the young Shadow, as she was doing now.
With another small smile, Wyldcat softly pressed a kiss to the now sleeping girl’s forehead and fell into the blackness of slumber himself.