ZONE
PART ONE OF ???

Ayden wandered the empty streets, wondering if this would be another successful scavenging mission or if he would run into any of the zone’s numerous horrors --or other survivors, and raiders. Going out of the safe-house was always a risk, but it was even more so when various warlords had taken notice of your tiny and insignificant province and opted to fight over it.
Ayden, a fourteen-year-old wolf, had zero interest in zone politics. He didn’t fight for any particular side, as none of them seemed interested in keeping his family fed. The boy had become something of the man of the house once his Father, August, passed away two months ago from a bout of the flu. His mother, who had a bad leg after getting snagged in a bear-trap, couldn’t go out on her own and his younger brother Chris was only 3. So, Ayden did mostly everything around their home. He tended their pitiful garden, trying to keep the dying vegetables alive, managed their rain collector, and now and then went hunting. Sometimes that hunting was literal, and he was taking down feral deer, wild hogs, or rabbits, with his trusty crossbow. Other times, like now, that hunt was not literal. He wasn’t seeking anything living, rather, what was processed.
Canned goods. They were usually non-perishable, and an easy way to get vegetables or fruits, sometimes protein like fish, too. His usual spot was a grocery store that was a handful of miles from the house, and so he’d ride his bike. Problem was his bike chain had broken a few nights ago, which essentially meant he was on-foot. This presented two problems: One was the distance he had to walk, and the second was that the chances of outrunning mutants or raiders on foot was slim. Also, without the bike, he couldn’t carry back as much supplies in lieu of the basket. Luckily his backpack, which held together by frayed straps, was more than capable of carrying some junk. 
Ayden finally arrived at the Quickie-Go, the grocery store in question. It was large, dominating a good portion of land. It was also ugly. A capitalist concrete box with signage and slogans. His feet padded off the asphalt as he stepped onto the sidewalk, and then through the doors which had long since stopped functioning. He’d had to break the glass with a rock a month or so ago just to get in. 

Ayden spent a few minutes making his way to the departments he needed to rummage through. First was the sports section for a new bike chain, and then then he made his way to the grocery. Finding spare parts for his bike or non-edible goods was easy, it was the food that he had to be concerned about. He and his family lived in a rural suburb, or at least, it HAD been a suburb before the nuclear accident. Some of the other people in the neighborhood still lived there, even though they’d gone silent and fortified their homes. Neighborly love didn’t exist anymore since the collapse of society. Ayden knew that while some of them had died, or moved on to more plentiful zones, a handful of his former friends and neighbors were also scavenging just like him. He had bumped into them once or twice, but the encounters had never been violent as Ayden knew better than to challenge another survivor. Especially when the one he had bumped into last, an older white-furred mouse by the name of Garry, had a pistol on him he openly carried in a holster. 

Did Ayden believe that Garry would kill him over a can of tuna? No, but the boy wasn’t dumb enough to test if he was right. He’d simply let Garry take his pick and leave before taking what he could. Every visit, the shelves became more and more bare, and if you thought he should check in the back then joke is on you because he’d already done that as had the aforementioned other survivors. Sooner or later, Ayden knew, his family would have to migrate out of the area... or starve. The game here wasn’t very plentiful, the rabbit, deer, and hog population relatively small. He could only kill so many without over-harvesting. To feed three people? He’d need a much larger area to hunt. 
Ayden began to place cans of green beans in his backpack before he overheard a set of voices a few aisles down. Normally he would have silenced himself and gotten out of sight to begin with, but he did so with special haste upon realizing he didn’t know these voices. They were female.
“Fuck me, this place doesn’t have shit,” said one to the other. “Yeah, looks like it’s been looted pretty good already. Just snatch some canned stuff and let’s get the fuck out of here.” Replied another, who had a more southern accent. 
Ayden was quick on his paws. He bolted for the exit, not even looking behind him as he broke out of hiding to gun it for the store’s front. If only he had looked before he leapt, he would have realized that he left a can on the floor and as soon as he put one foot paw in front of the other, he slipped on it and loudly came crashing down. 
The wolf pup smacked his head off the tile floor and saw stars, the corners of his vision darkening. He heard voices, but they were muffled as if he was under water. The boy stirred, trying to stand, but pain rattled in his skull as he did. 
And then he found an AK, or one of its many alt designs and variants, in his face. The barrel of the rifle pointed right to his chest. As his vision cleared, he looked to see who held it and his ears flattened. A large crocodile woman wearing a torn up, rag-tag mechanic’s jumpsuit with mish-mash junk metal secured to it acting as armor, held him at gunpoint. To her side was another woman, her features obscured by a respirator and hood, torn jeans and a crop-top that showed a chiseled stomach. She too, held a rifle of similar make, but hers had a scope, Ayden noted. 
“Well, well, well,” said the croc, and Ayden realized she was the one with the accent, “Looks like we got ourselves a little snack-sized dumbass.”
The other girl nodded and a vocoded snicker came from her. “Must be one of the locals.”
“L-look,” Ayden interrupted, “I’ll just go. Take whatever you want.” He offered, trying to see if he could talk his way out of a clearly hostile situation. He didn’t know these women, and so he couldn’t judge what they would do to him or with him. But his cute, boyish voice didn’t carry the authority he thought it did. 
“Shut the fuck up.” Spat the croc, “We are taking what we want. You’re just a dumb fucking kid, and you’re lucky I don’t shoot you and take whatever that shit is in your backpack.”
The other girl nudged the croc with her rifle, “Hey. Don’t hurt him. We could use him,” she said, “the coven needs a new male to continue the line. How long has it been since you’ve seen a teenager with some survival skills?”
The croc licked her lips, and grinned. “You’re right. How stupid of me,” she said, looking back down to Ayden who was still processing his situation. “You’re coming with us, sweetie. You’re going to be our new plaything. I’ve been in the market for a boyfriend for some time now.” She said, her voice sweeter but in a mocking, rotten way. 
Ayden didn’t like the sound of any of this. Boyfriend? Plaything? He knew he had to get the hell out of dodge, but before he could even command his body to move the croc bashed him over the head with her rifle and forced him into a deep sleep. 

When Ayden woke up, he realized immediately he couldn’t move. He tried with his might, but couldn’t budge. As he turned his head from side to side, he realized he was bound to a set of posts, driven into the ground. Crude, rough rope that threatened to chaste his skin had been tied around his wrists and ankles, putting him in a spread position as if he was in the middle of making a snow angel. The sky was darker now than it had been, and the wolf pup guessed he had been out for a couple of hours. 
“My head...” he hissed at a sudden throb of pain slamming around in his skull. He was surely bruised from the rifle butt, and he was fortunate the croc hadn’t fractured his skull. “H-hello?”
Out of vision, the croc and her companion were roasting a rabbit over a campfire. The croc turned when she heard the boy, licking her teeth like the predator she was as she stood up and approached him. “So, boytoy is awake,” she hummed. 
“Please let me go,” Ayden begged, “my family needs me! They could die without me!”
The croc rolled her slit eyes, indifferent to his pleas or the potential consequences his family would suffer without his return. Instead, she began to peel off the scrap-metal and clothing she wore, until a pair of fat, jiggling breasts popped out. She continued to undress, stepping out of the pants and revealing her curvy, naked form to him.
Her tits were large, bouncy, and had a puffy areola and thick nipple on each. On her left breast the nipple was pierced with a hoop, and her pudgy belly also had a piercing through the navel. Her scales were smooth, green and yellowish green on the underbelly with tinges of white here or there. She lacked any bodily hair, her groin smooth as a baby’s ass. He could see her puffy mound, a shade of dark pink peeking through the mound. 
“I don’t give a fuck about your family,” said the croc, moving to straddle the boy’s legs as he struggled some more. “You’re our property now, boy. Specifically, mine. I can’t wait to get back to the camp and show the others what I found,” she said, her voice becoming excited and sing-song like as she reached the end of the statement. 
“Please...” Ayden sobbed, lip quivering. He was about to cry. He knew what was going on, and while he was a teenager and he did masturbate frequently to old pictures from magazines of women with a similar body type to the reptilian, he did NOT want this. She reeked of sweat, and the tangy aroma of her pussy was unpleasant on his nose. Also, she was at least twice his age. 
His tears dried up quickly when she slapped him, “I said shut the fuck up,” she repeated through grit teeth, “Or I will make this horrible for you.”
He nodded; lips parted but no words came out. His harsh breathing made his chest rise and fall rapidly, and his heart thudded in his throat as the croc used her claws to shear off his thick grey hoodie. She looked over his brown pelt, and gave his left nipple a flick. Ayden flinched, trying to be quiet so she wouldn’t hit him again. 
The croc repeated the movement with his pants, simply choosing to scissor through them with the razor edge of her clawed finger than unbutton them. She yanked down the tattered remnants of pants and then yanked down his boxers to reveal his young sheath. To her happy surprise, he had some heavy looking balls on him. They were at least the size of apples, maybe bigger, and she fondled them lovingly. Ayden stilled a moan, a sound he was ashamed to make. His body betrayed his mind relatively quick as the croc girl played with his orbs and massaged his sheath with her free hand, coaxing the tapered ruby-red rocket of his kiddie dick to emerge unwillingly.
“Oooh, he’s a big one,” came the voice of the mask wearing girl, who had since left her spot by the fire to watch her friend rape the boy. “I’m jealous.”
“You should be, Luxx,” replied the croc, “He’s all mine. But maybe I’ll share with you later.”
Luxx crossed her arms, “You’re a real bitch, Rache,” she said, jokingly of course. The two girls shared a giggle. Ayden felt disgusted, small, and objectified. They were talking about him like he was a fresh bought item from the shoe store or something. 
Rache, the crocodile, straddled his hips now. She ground her puffy cunt against his hardening cock to help it reach its peak faster, thumbing over the cumslit as it oozed fresh cockdrool. “Mm,” she grinned devilishly, “I think he likes it.”
Ayden wanted to protest, but remembered the earlier strike to his face for doing so. A soft gasp was ripped from him instead as Rache angled her hips and took the head of his young dick into her sufficiently wet cunt. In an instant she robbed him of his virginity, her vaginal walls squeezing that kiddie cock like a vice as she slipped all the way down until their groins were flush with one another. 
“Oh fuck,” gasped the croc, “He’s hung! Mnfff. You’re gonna let Mama fuck your virgin brains out, and then you’ll give me a little brat of my own!”
With that, Ayden was the catharsis for the croc’s sexual tension. She moved her hips, up and down, rolling them, smashing them against his. She bounced on his cock so hard his pelvis ached from both her hips crashing into it and the byproduct of making his ass punch the hard ground. The pup grits his teeth, fighting back the tears, and watched as her tits hypnotically jiggled and bounced before him. There was nothing romantic about this. She didn’t make his first time special or loving, Rache simply used him like a toy. Her silky, wet cunt taking the knotted boy-cock with ease, even the knot itself slipping in and out of her gushing pussy. “Oh! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” She cried, her tongue lolling out and her yellow eyes shutting halfway. Luxx spurred her on, “Go Rache!”
Ayden could only think about his family while the croc fucked him. How would his baby brother eat now? How would his mother? And would they even be able to search for him? What would they think happened? It pained him to even fathom the likely possibility his mother would think her own son abandoned her. 
Time did not go by fast for him. He felt every bit of it, the tang of her body odor hanging on his senses as she molests him under the moonlight. The wet squelches of her pussy and the clapping of her ass drowning out the crickets. She rode him for a solid ten minutes, and in that time, he had lasted well on account of not wanting it and mentally doing his best to suppress the pleasure. He was failing, of course. The more she punched her own womb with his cock, the more he couldn’t help but let that euphoria creep over him. At some point, Ayden became a drooling, moaning, and trembling husk. His eyes rolled back; his teeth clenched. He felt hot and bothered, and a familiar sensation growing at the base of his spine and between his legs. His balls churning with kiddie cockslop, and whether he liked it or not he would be giving every ounce to Rache. 
“Fuck! Cum in me!” She barked, leaning forward and smothering Ayden between her tits. That was enough to do it, and the boy released into her like a geyser. His cocktip violently spurting rope after rope of kiddie seed into her hungry womb, bathing her ovaries in his genes. Rache continued to grind against him as he finished, milking every drop. She too, had climaxed, a long growl rumbling from her core as her pussy spasmed around that dick. But she retained her composure much better than he did. 
When it was done, both the wolf pup and the croc were sweaty, huffing, and their thighs and groin caked in cum and feminine juices. Rache sat back up and scooted off his cock, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. Ayden could see a glimmer of his spunk oozing down her inner left thigh. “Alright, whoo. Give me a moment, Luxx.” Rache said, going to retrieve her clothes and scrap armor off the forest floor. “Cut him loose from the posts and rebind his wrists for me, little fucker is walking the rest of the way to camp. I ain’t gonna fuckin carry him.”
Luxx nodded, pulling her knife from her pocket and unsheathing it, approaching the tired, humiliated and spent wolf pup. She slit the bindings in a fluid motion, and then aggressively yanked him up on his shaky paws by the arm. She spun him around and tied his hands behind his back, a move that Ayden made no effort to resist. He knew it was hopeless. 

A few moments later Rache returned to Luxx’s side, fully clothed again. “Alright boytoy, let’s go. Camp is still a mile or two away. Since you were such a good slut, I’ll make sure you’re fed when we get there.” She said, promising him at least some reward, which appealed to his aching stomach. “Try and run off, and we shoot you.” Luxx warned, before pushing Ayden forward and making him follow after Rache who had taken the lead.
Ayden knew he was in for a rough time.