Speaker 1: The sun bled orange across the fractured horizon, a dying
Speaker 1: sky over endless dunes of twisted metal and shattered concrete.
Speaker 1: Rider wiped sweat from his brow, grease streaking his knuckles
Speaker 1: as he hunched over the stripped engine of a scavenged hauller.
Speaker 1: He was alone out here, always alone, the last true
Speaker 1: mechanic in this broken world. Tools clinked at his belt,
Speaker 1: the only sound against the wind scraping through skeletal ruins.
Speaker 1: Then the engines came. A convoy of hulking war machines
Speaker 1: thundered from the dust storm. Massive rigs plaited in scavenged steel,
Speaker 1: barbed wheels, churning sand, gun turrets glinting like predatory eyes.
Speaker 1: Before he could grab the rifle propped against his toolbox,
Speaker 1: weighted nets, launched chains snared his limbs. Rough hands forced
Speaker 1: a sack over his head. He thrashed, connected with a
Speaker 1: few hard blows, but there were too many, all women, hardened, wiry,
Speaker 1: sun scorched, carrying the sharp scent of oil, leather and blood.
Speaker 1: When the sack was yanked off, he knelt in the
Speaker 1: heart of their stronghold, a fortified scrap fortress ringed by
Speaker 1: walls of gutted vehicles and spiked barricades. Fires burned in
Speaker 1: rusted barrels. Dozens of women encircled him, silent gazes, sharp
Speaker 1: and ravenous. Their leaders strode forward, tall, scarred across cheek
Speaker 1: and throat, one side of her head shaved clean, the
Speaker 1: other braided with spent shell casings. She called herself, Matriarch Vex.
Speaker 1: You fix what's broken, Matriarch Vex said, stepping close enough
Speaker 1: that he could feel the heat radiating from her scarred skin.
Speaker 1: Her voice was low, scraped raw by dust and smokey
Speaker 1: word deliberate. You make dead metal roar again. That gift
Speaker 1: belongs to us now. She crouched, bringing her eyes level
Speaker 1: with his. The torchlight caught the sharp edge of her gaze, predatory, unblinking.
Speaker 1: We'll feed you water. You keep the sun from cooking
Speaker 1: your brain and the scavengers from picking your bones. In exchange,
Speaker 1: her fingers brushed the chain around his wrist, then trailed
Speaker 1: up his forearm with deliberate slowness. You'll pour your skill
Speaker 1: into our machines every dawn. You'll sweat, bleed, and burn
Speaker 1: your hands until every engine sings. She leaned in closer,
Speaker 1: breath hot against his ear, and every night she whispered
Speaker 1: the words, curling like smoke. We'll take what else you
Speaker 1: have to give, your strength? Mm oh, your seed, your surrender.
Speaker 1: She straightened, towering over him again. Do we have an understanding,
Speaker 1: forge boy, or do I let the sisters break you
Speaker 1: in a different way. First Rider's knees dug into the
Speaker 1: packed dirt, chains clinking as he shifted. The torchlight painted
Speaker 1: harsh shadows across Matriarch Vex's face, making the scars look fresh.
Speaker 1: The shell casings in her braid glint like fangs. Her
Speaker 1: words hung in the hot, still air. Promise and threat
Speaker 1: braided together. He lifted his head, slowlyneting her stare. His
Speaker 1: jaw was tight, throat, dry from dust and rage, but
Speaker 1: his voice came out steady, low, edged, with something that
Speaker 1: wasn't quite defiance and wasn't quite surrender. I understand, he said.
Speaker 1: The circle of women didn't move, even the fires seemed
Speaker 1: to hush. He held her gaze a moment longer than
Speaker 1: added quieter, rougher, I'll keep your machines alive. His eyes
Speaker 1: flicked down to the chain on his wrist, then back
Speaker 1: to her, and you'll keep me breathing. A faint predatory
Speaker 1: smile curved her mouth. Approval, ownership, hunger, all at once,
Speaker 1: M good, she murmured. She rose, turned her back on him,
Speaker 1: as if he were already tamed, and addressed the silent circle.
Speaker 1: Chain him in the forge yard at first light, feed him,
Speaker 1: water him down, and tonight. Her gaze swept over the women,
Speaker 1: lingering on a few who shifted eagerly. Let the sisters
Speaker 1: welcome our new forge boy properly. She didn't look at
Speaker 1: Rider again as she walked away, boots crunching on gravel,
Speaker 1: but he felt the weight of her promise settle on him,
Speaker 1: like fresh forged iron, hot, heavy, impossible to shrug off.
Speaker 1: He didn't speak again, didn't need to. The deal was struck.
Speaker 1: That was the first day. They chained him in the
Speaker 1: forge yard. At dawn, towering machines weighted a crippled heavy
Speaker 1: crawler with shredded treads, armored carriers, bristling with mounted cannons,
Speaker 1: a colossal transport beast welded from truck frames and train cars.
Speaker 1: His wrists were locked to a long tether enough reach
Speaker 1: to crawl inside engines, not enough to touch the outer walls.
Speaker 1: They tossed him ration, bricks and water. He worked until
Speaker 1: his spine burned, cutting welding, scavenging parts from fresh wrecks
Speaker 1: they hauled in. They named him forge Boy. Lashes snapped
Speaker 1: if he faltered, but he was skilled, dangerously skilled. Day
Speaker 1: by day, the convoy grew fiercer. Engines roared, clean, armor
Speaker 1: held against raids. The women returned from hunts, painted in
Speaker 1: fresh blood and spoils. Then came the nights. The first time,
Speaker 1: exhaustion convinced him it was hallucination. He'd collapsed onto the
Speaker 1: thin pallet inside his cage, a reinforced freight container bolted
Speaker 1: to the ground. The door groaned open, torchlights spilled in.
Speaker 1: Three women stepped inside. Silent leather harnesses and armor plates
Speaker 1: fell away in quiet heaps. Bare skin shimmered with sweat
Speaker 1: and fire glow. The tallest one, Brynia, five foot nine
Speaker 1: of raw fire, with her crimson hair twisted into tight
Speaker 1: warrior braids, dropped to her knees. First, calloused palms gripped
Speaker 1: his stubbled jaw hard enough to bruise yanking his head
Speaker 1: down until their mouths crashed together. Her tongue shoved past
Speaker 1: his lips without asking, fucking his mouth in deep, filthy
Speaker 1: strokes that tasted of whiskey and smoke. She growled into
Speaker 1: the kiss, biting his lower lip sharp enough to draw
Speaker 1: a hiss from him while she devoured his mouth. The
Speaker 1: second woman, Lana, dark skinned and all dangerous curves, swung
Speaker 1: a thick thigh over his hips and straddled him. She
Speaker 1: didn't bother with teasing. She ground down hard, her bare,
Speaker 1: soaking pussy dragging along the ridge of his cock through
Speaker 1: the thin fabric of his work pants. The heat of
Speaker 1: her was obscene, slick lips parting around the shape of him,
Speaker 1: coating the fabric in her wetness with every slow roll
Speaker 1: of her hips. Feel how fucking drenched I am for
Speaker 1: you already, Lona rasped against his ear, voice low and dirty.
Speaker 1: Been thinking about this cock all day. Gonna ruin these
Speaker 1: pants if you don't get them off soon. The third
Speaker 1: dragged nails down his chest, tracing old scars and fresh grease, murmuring,
Speaker 1: you revived our iron today, Tonight we ride you. They
Speaker 1: didn't ask permission, They took what they wanted, and Rider's
Speaker 1: mind reeled hatred for his chains, warring with the raw,
Speaker 1: unbidden throb in his cock, already straining against his zipper
Speaker 1: like a caged animal. Sensing freedom behind him, cool fingers
Speaker 1: hooked into his belt and yanked it open with a
Speaker 1: metallic clink. Victoria's elegant hands, nails painted blood red, shoved
Speaker 1: his jeans down just far enough to free him. His
Speaker 1: cock sprang out, heavy and flushed, already leaking at the tip.
Speaker 1: Hands reached for his penis with ruthless efficiency, yanking the
Speaker 1: thick veined shaft, flushed red and twitching in the cool
Speaker 1: night air. Four sets of hungry eyes and hands locked
Speaker 1: on it at once. Oh fuck yeah. Sabrina breathed, platinum
Speaker 1: hair falling over her face as she sank to her
Speaker 1: knees beside BRYNYA. Look at that pretty dick, m yeah,
Speaker 1: dripping for us. Hot mouths descended, wet, eager, merciless. One
Speaker 1: engulfed him whole, lips, stretching tight around his girth as
Speaker 1: she sucked him to the back of her throat, her
Speaker 1: tongue swirling over the sensitive underside, sending jolts of electric
Speaker 1: pleasure up his spine. Another laved his heavy balls with slow,
Speaker 1: wicked stroke, sucking one into her mouth and humming, the
Speaker 1: vibration making his cock pulse harder. Aching for more, Brinya
Speaker 1: broke the bruising kiss and dropped lower, tongue dragging down
Speaker 1: his throat, over his chest until she joined Sabrina on
Speaker 1: the concrete. Both women knelt shoulder to shoulder, mouths watering.
Speaker 1: Sabrina struck first, wrapping soft lips around the swollen head
Speaker 1: and sucking hard, cheeks, hollowing as she took the first
Speaker 1: few inches, A wet, greedy sound escaped her throat. Brinya
Speaker 1: didn't fight for space. She licked a long, filthy stripe
Speaker 1: up the underside, tongue pressing flat against the throbbing vein,
Speaker 1: then swirled around Sabrina's stretched lips, where they sealed around him.
Speaker 1: They shifted like a practiced pack one sank onto him,
Speaker 1: her tight, dripping pussy, swallowing every thick inch of his
Speaker 1: cock in one slick glide in her walls, clenching like
Speaker 1: a fist around him as she circled her hips in
Speaker 1: deliberate torment, grinding her clit against his pubic bone with
Speaker 1: each roll, the sensation overwhelming slick heat, milking him friction
Speaker 1: building fire in his veins, his penis throbbing inside her veins,
Speaker 1: bulging against her slick grip. Another straddled his face, powerful thighs,
Speaker 1: locking around his head, smearing slick desire across his tongue,
Speaker 1: until she broke with a muffled cry, her orgasm flooding
Speaker 1: his mouth while he lapped desperately, the taste of her
Speaker 1: pushing him closer to the edge. The third kept him
Speaker 1: rigid and aching, stroking the base of his shaft whenever
Speaker 1: he slipped free, her fist pumping slow and firm, thumb
Speaker 1: rubbing over the slit to smear his pre calm, denying release,
Speaker 1: until his balls drew tight, heavy with need. Lona kept
Speaker 1: grinding on his lap, her slick pussy lips, sliding along
Speaker 1: the base of his shaft now that it was free,
Speaker 1: smearing him in her juices. Every time she rolled forward,
Speaker 1: the head of his cock bumped her clit, and she shuddered,
Speaker 1: cursing under her breath. Anna moved in last, calm as always.
Speaker 1: She cupped his balls in one warm hand, rolling them gently,
Speaker 1: then leaned in to suck one into her mouth with slow,
Speaker 1: perfect suction. Her tongue bathed him rider groaned hips bucking involuntarily,
Speaker 1: his body screaming yes, even as his mind shouted no.
Speaker 1: He was their slave, their tool, but fuck. The heat
Speaker 1: coiling in his balls was unbearable, a sweet torment that
Speaker 1: made him hate himself for wanting it. Words were sparse,
Speaker 1: only growled, orders, deeper, harder. Hold at forge boy, Not yet.
Speaker 1: Rider's mind fractured under the assault, pleasure ripping through him
Speaker 1: like shrapnel, but the conflict burned. He despised them for
Speaker 1: reducing him to this, a throbbing cock, for their amusement.
Speaker 1: Yet his body craved the release, the way his penis
Speaker 1: swelled impossibly harder with every thrust. When they finally allowed climax,
Speaker 1: it tore through him like a storm, his cock irrupting.
Speaker 1: Hot ropes of come down Anna's throat as she sucked
Speaker 1: and pumped, her cheeks, hollowing, taking everything, while the others
Speaker 1: pinned him through the aftershocks, his shaft twitching and spurting
Speaker 1: until he was drained, spent, hating how good it felt.
Speaker 1: Night after night it went on, different women, sometimes pears,
Speaker 1: sometimes half a dozen. They'd slick their bodies with scavenged
Speaker 1: oils until skin gleamed like polished steel. Streak, warpaint across
Speaker 1: full breasts and curved hips. Some bound him spread and
Speaker 1: teased for hours, lips brushing feather light over his straining cockhead,
Speaker 1: teeth grazing the shaft, probing fingers circling his tight apple
Speaker 1: until his penis leaked steadily, veins standing out in stark relief,
Speaker 1: and his voice cracked with pleas for mercy. Others demanded
Speaker 1: raw ferocity, ridden hard on a work bench, fucked hard
Speaker 1: on his back, while another claimed his mouth the air
Speaker 1: thick with solvent and sex, her pussy slamming back onto
Speaker 1: his thick length, over and over, each impact, sending shock
Speaker 1: waves through his balls, his sensations a blur of slick friction,
Speaker 1: building pressure, and the humiliating thrill of being used. There
Speaker 1: was the silent scout who preferred slow, eye locked, coupling
Speaker 1: her inner walls, fluttering around his buried cock as she
Speaker 1: came without a sound, squeezing him in rhythmic pulses that
Speaker 1: made his penis throb an ache, drawing out his own
Speaker 1: release in agonizing waves. While he fought the inner war,
Speaker 1: freedom lost, but this ecstasy a drug he couldn't refuse.
Speaker 1: There was the laughing blade dancer who pinned him against
Speaker 1: the cage bars and fucked him loud enough for centuries
Speaker 1: to hear every thrust, her hips snapping forward to take
Speaker 1: him balls deep, the slap of skin on skin, echoing
Speaker 1: as his cock pistoned into her, sensations of tight heat
Speaker 1: and building com churning in his gut, conflict, raging. He
Speaker 1: was no more than a stud to them, but the
Speaker 1: pleasure made him forget the chains. They never let him lead.
Speaker 1: By day he was their chained engine, heart, body screaming
Speaker 1: from labor, penis soft and ignored under grimy clothes. By
Speaker 1: night he became their shared pleasure beast, his cock the
Speaker 1: center of their world, stroked, sucked, ridden until it was
Speaker 1: raw red and hyper sensitive, every touch igniting fire. And
Speaker 1: yet the hunger grew in him too, the bone deep
Speaker 1: fatigue at the constant throb of overuse, the way his
Speaker 1: body rose instantly at the creak of the cage door,
Speaker 1: penis hardening traitorously even as his mind whispered escape. The
Speaker 1: ecstasy was sharper than any blade in this dead world,
Speaker 1: but it twisted him. Was he breaking? Or had he
Speaker 1: always been? This? A man reduced to his cock's desires?
Speaker 1: One night, matriarch Vex came alone. She entered without flourish,
Speaker 1: bolted the door, and stripped. Her body was a chronicle
Speaker 1: of survival, scars lacing ribs, a jagged burn across one thigh,
Speaker 1: muscle forged like the machines he served. She shoved him flat,
Speaker 1: mounted his face, and ground down until all he knew
Speaker 1: was her taste, her scent, her ruthless rhythm, her fold
Speaker 1: slick against his tongue as she used him to chase
Speaker 1: her peak. When she came, she flooded his mouth, his
Speaker 1: fingers twisted viciously in his hair, leaving him gasping, his
Speaker 1: cock already rock hard and leaking against his thigh. Then
Speaker 1: she slid down his body and impaled herself in one
Speaker 1: brutal stroke, her pussy engulfing his thick shaft like a vise,
Speaker 1: walls rippling around him as she rode hard. The sensation
Speaker 1: was pure torment. Every downward slam stretching her around his girth,
Speaker 1: friction scorching his length, his balls slapping against her ass
Speaker 1: With each thrust. She leaned in, lips, brushing his ear nails,
Speaker 1: carving fresh lines across his chest, drawing blood as she
Speaker 1: clenched tighter. You keep our iron alive, she rasped, hips
Speaker 1: pounding relentlessly, milking his cock with expert rolls that made
Speaker 1: his head swell inside her pre come, mixing with her wetness.
Speaker 1: We keep you alive, hard, drained every single night until
Speaker 1: you forget freedom ever existed. Rider shattered inside her, roaring
Speaker 1: into the dark, hips surging up as his penis erupted,
Speaker 1: thick jets of comb flooding her depths, pulsing over and
Speaker 1: over as she ground down, drawing out every drop until
Speaker 1: he was empty, trembling. The pleasure crashed through him like wreckage,
Speaker 1: but the conflict clawed deeper. He loathed her power over him,
Speaker 1: the way his body betrayed him, cockstill twitching in afterglow,
Speaker 1: Yet he craved the next night already. When she left,
Speaker 1: she said nothing more, just dressed, unbolted the cage, and
Speaker 1: vanished into the night. Rider lay spent, chest heaving seed,
Speaker 1: cooling on sweat slick skin, staring at the corroded ceiling,
Speaker 1: his penis softening slowly, raw from use. He wasn't sure
Speaker 1: he'd fight if rescue ever came. The wasteland could rot.
Speaker 1: He had engines to mend at dawn, and women waiting
Speaker 1: when the fires burned low, ready to ignite the fire
Speaker 1: in his veins again