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Reins of the Tomb Raider	By : HunterOpera Category: +S through Z > Tomb Raider (all) > Tomb Raider (all) Views: 38203 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Tomb Raider and make no money from this. Also, this is not a happy story. It will not have a happy ending. You have been warned.

Chapter List
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There were no handicaps placed on the animals before the third day's race, a thing which caught some comment from those that had never seen a race before. Those of us that knew what was coming did not want to spoil the surprise, and so said nothing. Ivo and James and I smiled at one another, Ivo making certain that the natives of the Village of the Damned had not mangled any of the audio or video recording devices. They were known to do so some of the time, but everything checked out. They were, perhaps, as eager as the rest of of us.

I found James chatting with William Millstone over breakfast, and he waved me over.

“William, this is my good friend, Zamir Pokupec,” James said, clasping me on the back. “He is in the market for a slave animal of his very own, and I know that you have business to conduct back in America and so cannot see to the training and care of Innocent.”

“This is true,” William said, frowning. “And the way people are back home, hell, you'd think they'd actually bought into that whole democracy thing.”

James and I exchanged a glance, and William laughed.

“Oh, it's a useful enough fiction, but we're an oligarchy,” William said, still laughing. “You know what Innocent's crime was? Trying to be smart while being poor, and then someone important needed to get rid of her quietly and that same person wanted a favor from me.”

I could not help but sneer at the corruption of the west, but it was hard to argue with a system that was going to provide me with such a lovely creature.

“She's skittish, your Innocent,” I said, “but I can give her a home, make sure she's trained and prepared for you and your son's arrival.”

“My son'll love that,” William said, grinning. “Taking something that belong to that Wes kid. Greed and envy, am I right? The very best virtues.”

I did not know how to respond to this.

“Tell you what,” William said, shifting and looking at James, “If your animal loses, your lovely little Duchess, I'll let your pal Zamir train and hold onto my Innocent. Part of that deal, though, is that she has to lose hard. None of this only-used-by-nobles bullshit. I want that bitch fucked by every low born citizen of this lovely little country.”

James nodded and I smiled. Neither of us thought that would be a problem.

“You guys know something I don't?” he asked, frowning. We both kept our silence. “No cheating, now. No shocking her so she can't run, not like the Countess is doing to poor Katie. Your Duchess has got to lose fair and square.”

“Not a worry,” I said. We all shook hands, then James and I clasped one another on the back and walked away.

The animals were brought out to the starting line: the terrified and shivering Innocent and shattered broken Katie, the fierce Scarlet and experienced Karma, the determined Dearest and lovely Speedy, the pair of Punky and Tiger, the vicious Gutters. Last, and to the roar of our crowd, was brought out the lovely Lara Croft, exposed and dripping, her eyes downcast as Steph and Neville and dozens of others called the only name that mattered to her anymore: Duchess.

When the race began, the ones we had expected to take off at a sprint did: Speedy took an early lead, but lacked the endurance to keep it. Soon, Lara and Dearest were moving past her, followed quickly by Karma, Scarlet, and Gutters. The five of them were clear and away faster and possessed of a higher constitution than the others.

Excepting perhaps poor Katie, but with the Countess toying with her no one would ever know.

Gutters spent much of the first hour trying to sweep the other animals in the race, kickng at their legs, and they responded by avoiding her and trying to lead her to the other animals. She was happy to attack whomever was closest, so that made for an entertaining first hour and bets were fast and furious for that whole time as to who she would knock down. Finally, Dearest spun around and kicked the violent woman in her abdoman, sent her sprawling backwards before Dearest spun on her heel and pushed her way back to the front.

Lara had taken the lead while Dearest had dealt with Gutters, with Karma bringing up a close third and Scarlet fighting to pass all of them. When they were in sight of the Village of the Damned, Scarlet finally managed to pass Karma – but then, Karma knew better than to be one of the first people to enter that sacred place. The others did not.

The gates were opened as the animals approached – Lara, Dearest, and Scarlet all entering as one. Lara knew somewhat of what to expect, some stray bit of memory surviving her incarceration, but the other two were surprised by the cobblestone roads, the broken architecture that had been built on top of Roman ruins, the thick fogs that clung to every surface.

All three of them slowed, taking stock of the strange world around them, the shadowy half-faces that they could almost see lurking around them. Unconsciously, all three of them moved closer together, though whether this was for protection or warmth I could not say. Goose-flesh rose on all of them, the three of them shivering as they ventured forth.

The first attack came when they were passing an alley – one of the madmen that called the Village of the Damned his home lurched forward, stumbled into Scarlet, and grabbed Dearest's breast. His hand quested underneath her shirt and her eyes widened, then narrowed, a small gasp brushing past her gag. When she tried to twist away his firm grip kept him locked in place. The man's other hand undid his belt and he began to masturbate furiously, Scarlet looking on in confusion, Lara watching with terror.

She had been here. She knew what these people were capable of.

Now, she could not protect herself.

Eventually, Dearest managed to stagger backward, striking the man in the knee. They watched, all three of them wary, but the man wandered off and away, pausing only to throw his ejaculate behind him before collapsing into a moaning ball. The goo struck Dearest and Scarlet mostly, but Lara caught some of it. The three of them stared at one another, their eyes full of fear born of ignorance, their mouths kept silent by their bits.

Scarlet yelped. Her owner was urging her onwards. The other two stayed close.

Through the shadowed broken city the three trembled, keeping a slow but steady pace. Lara, ever watchful, caught sight of the dog first – licking at a viscous fluid left beside some abandoned vegetables. The dog looked up at them, then went back to licking the goo, not showing any interest in them. Catiously, slowly, they approached.

A man had been chained to a wall, manacles linking his wrists, neck, and ankles to a distant door. He was naked and as large as he had been the year before, a towering mass of muscle that bellowed something without meaning and charged, yanking on his chains, thrusting his manhood towards the cowering women that he was unable to reach.

While their eyes were locked on him, the dog pressed his snout into Scarlet's core, licking her. Scarlet jumped, looked like she might kick the dog, but the man howled and the dog responded, scampering off into the mists as the man pulled at each chain and the wall behind him shook. All three animals fled, fled deeper into the Village of the Damned.

From out of the mist and shadows they came, gnarled and old, wizened figures in black robes covered in drooping wrinkles, their weathered flesh reaching out and touching all three woman, looping into the reins that held them, leading them deeper into the city while fingers and tongues and calves wrapped around the taut young bodies of their captives.

Dearest would have none of it, lashing out with surprising kicks that brought hisses of sympathy from our distant crowd, and Ivo and I looked at one another before turning our attention to Karin.

“Who is this woman, your Dearest?” Ivo asked.

“My worthy rival,” Karin answered, smiling.

Scarlet followed Dearest's example, pulling back and driving her forehead into one of the old creatures that were leading all of them astray. We watched, all of us, wondering if Lara would dare to strike against those that were dragging her deeper into the thick mists, molesting her all the while. We watched as the glaze over her eyes thawed. She watched the other two fight, some stray thought reminding her that this was something she was capable of.

Roaring through her gag, Lara Croft ducked down and drove herself up at one of the old people holding her, knocking the holder to the ground. With that third attack, the old people whimpered and turned away from the women they had been so eager to touch before, hiding their faces and remaining perfectly still. The three animals looked at one another, each meeting the other's eyes, and though none of us could know what passed between them we knew that something had.

From out of the mist a shadow sprinted forth – Gutters, recovered from her tumble and now running full tilt, past the place where the three other animals had made their stand. From the distance, the three of them heard what sounded like chains breaking, and a roar that echoed through the mists. They looked at one another, these three animals, and then as one they took off after Gutters as fast their legs could carry them.

The mists of the Village made running blind foolish, or so one would think, but the three of them soon caught up with the aggressive Gutters. The Village of the Damned did not have a layout that was easy to understand, and less so in the mists – of them, only Lara had any idea of where she was going. Gutters had raced off ahead, cut down a path that had led her in a giant circle, and the three that were chasing her arrived just in time to see what fate claimed her.

A single naked figure fell from up above, wrapping an arm around Gutters and pulling the startled woman to the ground with him. Four more figures followed, dropping out of the fog and claiming her long legs and bound arms, tugging at her bindings and what was bound. Gutters shrieked, her wide eyes pleading, but the three women that might have helped her watched her and backed away slowly, leaving Gutters to the unwanted affections of strangers.

The pleading whimpers of passion haunted their steps now, hunting them all like predators.

Lara managed to make it look like she knew where she was going, and the other two started to follow. James laughed and shook his head.

“Look at her,” James grinned, “such a natural leader. We'll have to see if we can whip that out of her again.”

“Believe in Drasha,” I laughed, clasped him on the back, knowing that we would do this thing together but enjoying the show of what was.

As they moved through the mist, their pointed boots click-clacking against the ancient cobblestones, a dull whispering began to pick up frequency from up above them. From where we watched the betting quickly picked up, for we all knew what must happen next.

Fearfully, the animals looked to the skies to see window shutters thrown wide, hideous faces looking down and speaking to one another with sounds that could not possibly be a language. As the speakers noticed the animals noticing them, they grew louder, yelling at one another.

The girls looked up and up, trying to make sense of the insane ramblings that hounded them from above. Shutters were thrown wide and banged against the old ruined window frames, pots and pans banged together, and the three animals looked around with wide eyes and skittish legs, bounding at every sound and call that hounded them through the streets.

Slowly, carefully, the three of them moved onwards, their eyes skybound – and so, when the windows beside them crashed open and groping fingers reached forth, all three of them were caught off guard. It was Dearest who was furthest along, and so it was Dearest those hands claimed, pulling her closer to the window frame and past it, and within moments she was gone.

Where we were, Karin screamed and expressed concern, but Ivo was there to calm her down.

“The people in the Village know an offering when they see one,” he assured her. “They will not hurt your Dearest too much.”

Cries poured out of the darkened window frame, mingled passion and hurt and terror, and they did nothing to convince anyone that Ivo was speaking the truth.

As the animals stared into the darkness after their friend, they failed to notice the slithering sound of chains rattling around the ground behind them. They both turned just in time to see the chained man, now free, wrap his limbs around Scarlet. Howling, he slammed her into a wall until she went limp, then grinned at Lara before hauling away his prize.

“Well,” Wesker sighed, frowning as he adjusted his sunglasses, “It's not like she hasn't dealt with things like that before.”

Lara gave chase, but the chained man was larger and faster and vanished quickly into the mist and swirling spiralling streets, but still Lara ran until she was hopelessly lost. Above her, the shutters clattered and the whispers began, a cruel howling wafting through the streets and haunting her every step.

“Heloo. Dyou spake English?”

And, with those words, all else around the scared animal fell silent.

Sounds still echoed around her, but they were distant things – the screams of Gutters and Scarlet, the muffled moans of Dearest, the cries of the other animals as they entered the Village of the Damned – but this singular voice cut through the madness of the village, silenced and calmed the world around it.

Lara, still skittish, danced in place and turned to face the speaker – a somber looking man in a long grey robe with a black rope belt looped around his hips, the line of it trailing down to his knees. His thick black mane and beard cared for with fastidious detail. He held up his hands and motioned towards her, a rosary wrapped around the fingers of one hand.

“Dyo nyet be scared,” the priest said. His voice was deep but his words were stilted and stiff, yet still he spoke in a baritone meant for the oldest chants. “I myen you nyet arm. I ken of the Great Game, yand Iyam ere to lead you to safety.”

He approached her slowly. I looked at Ivo, who shook his head. Transfixed, we watched as the man slowly approached Lara, his eyes radiating concern. She looked around, looked like she might try to run, but he got closer to her and wrapped a hand around her bare hips.

“Easee, easee,” he whispered, his hand reaching around to the small of her back. “Iyam gong free you.” Her eyes widened as he said the word free, recognizing what that might mean. James reached for his phone but the priest did something to the box and James yelled.

“What the fuck is going on?” James demanded, looking at the two of us.

“I do not know,” Ivo said, his eyes narrowing, “but we will find out soon.”

“Iyam gong to remave your bit,” he said, his hands moving with agonizing slowness towards her face. “Nod ifn you unnersand.” She nodded, her eyes wide and terrified as his fingers explored the mechanism that held her tongue and freed her of it. When he offered her water, she drank eagerly.

“...” she said, trying and failing to form words. The old priest nodded in sympathy.

“Words they ill came back to you,” he said. “Follow. My order can gyet the reyst of the byndings off you yand get you to safety. The people outside the village cannot see you now.”

She nodded, accepting the lie, and James seemed mollified but Ivo and I shared a glance – was the priest lying or wrong? Why did his accent come and go? Ivo shook his head, admitting ignorance, and we turned to watch whatever truth might yet unfold. Lara followed the man into his church, a tall ruin in the heart of the Village of the Damned, near the place where she had once stolen the relics of a long dead Emperor.

“Dyou memory ow to spake?” the priest asked. Lara nodded.

“I,” she stumbled over the single word, crying as she spoke it. “I.” She said that single word like it meant everything. The old priest nodded.

“Tyake a moment,” he said. “Then follow.”

He led her deeper into the church, towards a place where other members of his order had gathered. They were gathered in a circle around a statue of Bachuus, all of their heads bowed as they chanted a prayer in some tongue humanity must have abandoned long ago. Lara was comforted by the sound until she got closer, until she saw that none of the robes the priests wore covered their backs - their shoulder blades and asses were exposed, all of them naked, only the black belts holding the half-garments in place.

As one, their eyes turned to her, focusing on her, and their lips split into wide grins as they studied her. She tried to run, but the priest that had brought her to this fell sanctity held her in place by the reins still connecting her breasts and lowest lips. She whimpered, trying to pull away as the priests approached her, shaking her head and crying out as they encircled her.

“We nyame you defiler of arr temple,” the priest who had brought her here whispered, as hands reached out and pulled the lines from her, tearing the harness from her naked body and the small box from the small of her back. Rough hands encircled her neck and held her, pulling the boots off her feet, leaving her naked as she wept and writhed, trying in vain to free herself. “Bachuus demands his own justice.”

This last sentence was spoken perfectly, with an accent that mirrored the one that Lara had once possessed. Her eyes were wide when she met his narrowing ones, her cries growing louder as he approached her. She was free now, all her limbs released from the bondage that had held them for so long, but her arms were useless from their long incarceration and she could not fully close her jaw after having it forced open for years. Her efforts to fight off the order of priests was pathetic as they let the robes fall from their thin but muscled bodies, the long scars carved into them proof of their suffering.

When the speaking priest grabbed her by the throat and pulled her lips to his, there was nothing she could do. Her slapping hands were grabbed, her silky fingers wrapped around naked cocks. Her legs were pulled apart and off the ground so that the things that filled her could be pulled out and replaced by flesh, the priest kissing her then using her hair to guide her drooling mouth to his cock.

There was something wonderful about watching the acceptance in her face as her lips parted further, allowing the massive organ to slide across her tongue and down her throat. The priest growled as she suckled on him, pulling him in right to the root as every last part of her was defiled. The first coating of cum was little more than a sheen of white sweat that clung to her skin, but the priests kept her there, kept her there, taking turns with her, thrusting into her and against her in ways that even Ivo and myself had never considered, in ways that left James gaping.

Steph looked on, taking notes.

It was morning when they finally let the twitching woman fall to the ground. She had to blink past the strands of sperm that coated her pretty features, her mouth spilling the seed of the men that had used her for the whole night. Not a bit of her was not so covered, not so leaking.

“Your debt is paid,” the priest said, his accent and voice an echo of that which she had lost. “Until noon this day, no one will touch you. After that, Lara Croft, we will hunt for you and bring you back here. If we catch you we will never let you leave.”

It took time for her to find the strength to roll onto her side, hugging herself and twitching. The priests stood stock still around her, chanting in their strange language. Lara, shattered in mind and body from the orgy that had claimed her, crawled out of the church and into the streets. There, all the villagers had gathered, their silent faces passive as they lined the cobblestones, all of them silent as they watched her struggle to her feet.

None of them moved or spoke. Other than their eyes, none of them moved. Lara looked at the sun, maybe trying to figure out the time, maybe startled by its brightness – but, freed of her bondage, she was able to move freely for the first time in more than four long years. She ran, keeping her head down and her eyes forward. She ran in the only direction she could – toward Candover, toward the harsh trails that would lead her away from Parmistan and back to the world.

“She's probably thinking that even the nothing I've left her with has got to be better than this,” James whispered, staring.

“She's right,” Steph murmured, her hand touching his.

A panting Lara managed to stumble past the gates of the Village of the Damned by ten o'clock. It was a long way from there to Candover, but she made it all by herself, alone. A crowd was waiting for her, staring at the cum-coated woman as she crossed the border and entered the capital of our glorious land. We all went to greet her, even James coming to check on her, and she looked up at him with a pathetic gratitude.

“Lara,” he said, and she looked up at him through cum-soaked eyes, her hair matted to her head. “That's twice you've responded to your old name.”

Her eyes widened and she screamed, screamed, screamed as the crowd fell on her.

“You came in last,” James shouted after her, but I do not think she heard. The crowd dunked the poor animal in a barrel of water, then washed her down before they grabbed her anew. They were fresh from use of Dearest, Gutters, Scarlet, and Speedy the night before, and inspired by what they had watched the priesthood inflict upon her.

“The first five to enter the Village of the Damned are inevitably the last to leave it,” James called. A sputtering Lara was dragged into the town square, erect cocks and dripping cunts surrounding her, and so I think she did not hear him. “Enjoy your time with the common people, Lara. I've already booked you some remedial classes with Drasha.”

We left Lara, then, and William walked up to myself and James with a smile on his face.

“Got to say, you folks know how to run an entertaining event,” he said. I clasped him on the back and he smiled. “Tell you what, you train up Innocent like your little Lara, and you can keep her when I'm not around. Sound like a deal?”

“Yes,” I said, for how could I say anything less? My children would be delighted to play with the animal that had placed fourth in her first race. Tiger and Punky had kept their lead over Innocent, but I was sure with the proper training that Innocent would beat them next year.

“I still can't figure out why Karma stopped running, though,” William said, frowning as he looked to where Ivo was walking with his pet.

“It's not her first race,” I answered, shrugging. “Karma was elusive in her last life, and retains some small skill in this one.”

"What is this, the third or second race she's won? The fourth?" James asked. I shrugged. It seemed immaterial at that moment.

"Good for her," William nodded, and we all turned our eyes to where Lara had given up, her body pounded and prodded, her open mouth filled.

“I don't envy that one,” he said, shuddering. “Pretty, though. I don't suppose I could take a turn once everything is all said and done?” I looked towards my dear friend, wondering if he would help keep this man's good will intact, but I needn't have worried.

“Mr. Millstone,” James said, smiling, “it would be her pleasure.”

*

Whew. That took a while. For those of you wondering, we've got a full list of who the other ponies are over here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/36931-metroid-the-bergman-affair-feedback-comments-and-workshopping/page-11 It's also a spot where I workshop ideas, respond to reviews, and talk about stories, writing, and mythology. We've got two chapters left to make this a happier tale, and the plan is wrap this up for early next week and then spin it off into other tales, maybe dealing with the other ponies as we get back into Masque'd Hawk and the Bergman Affair. Thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying this, and I'll be back soon. Thanks again~!
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Reins of the Tomb Raider