8 comments/ 58659 views/ 19 favorites Aftermath Law By: MaxSebastian 1 The wind howled through shattered, frozen streets as though mourning the immense loss of the colossal metropolis. Two figures fought it, trying desperately to stay upright as they wound their way through the devastated cityscape, dressed in dark hooded coats that protected their faces from the biting cold but couldn't keep the chill from their bones. They each carried huge oversized bags on their backs packed so full that they had to stoop as they walked. It was slow, exhausting progress. One of them stumbled on the snow-covered rubble as she tried to shift her hood a little to hide her pale face from the flecks of ice being flung at them by the tempest. The other paused to check she was all right before they both wandered on, keeping to the middle of the street to avoid falling masonry, desperate to get home before the sun finally left them. The brooding sky overhead did not give them optimism: they were still a long way from the village. The snow was beginning to thicken into heavy flurries while the horizon flashed with distant but approaching lightning. One of the figures tapped the other on the shoulder as the sky cracked from far off thunder, and as she jumped, startled at the sudden contact. He indicated that they had to stop; it was just too exposed out there. She nodded and they diverted to the left, carefully picking their way through a small street looking for a building that didn't look fatally fragile among the decayed apartment blocks that loomed over them like giant rotten teeth. The piles of broken bricks and fragmented concrete grew higher and their climbing more than once caused little avalanches of debris. One figure signaled to the other then, since the snow was falling so quickly that visibility was suddenly cut down to a few feet. It wasn't safe to continue – better to take their chances inside. The other figure nodded, and they carefully headed into the nearest doorway. It was a great relief to be out of the wind. The sudden still air seemed almost warm without the chill breeze burning their cheeks. They pulled down their hoods and smiled at each other, communicating their thankfulness for the respite from the elements. They were both young – she was just over one and a half metres tall, with pale skin and jet-black hair tied back in a ponytail. Her pretty brown eyes were still anxious from the knowledge that there was a starving bear still outside their shelter, but as she looked into her companion's calm blue eyes, she relaxed. He was taller than her – he could probably have just about rested his chin on top of her head – and had light brown, almost blond hair cut very short, but his skin was similarly pale, almost anemic-looking. The cold made them so pale, and that was something that they had to watch. Scavengers had died because they had been unable to get home on a winter's night. "We're very late," she said, her voice soft with a lilting accent. "Our mothers will be worried." "They'll know we're sheltering from the storm," he replied. "What if it doesn't let up?" "Then we'll stay here until it does." They stood either side of the doorway, leaning against the walls directly opposite each other. The floor they stood on was a mosaic of white marble pieces, now covered in dust, but in its day it must have been quite something. The doors had been glass but were now splintered into a million crystal shards, spreading into the dark interior of the building. "Must've been a really nice place," said the dark-haired girl, and stood up to casually mill into the darkness. "Be careful," he warned, "we don't know how stable the building structure is." "It looks fine," she turned to him and smiled, "look, the ceiling doesn't even sag." There was concern on his face, but she just grinned and turned to wander around the room, her feet crunching over ancient broken glass, scuffing through the age-old dust that carpeted the place. "Let's explore," she said, excitement in her eager voice, "this place looks like somewhere rich people once lived." "We have no need – our sacks are full. If we found anything else we couldn't take it with us anyway." "Let's explore anyway. We could always come back this way another day." "The Solstice is in three days – we'd never have time to come back." "Stop thinking about the Solstice," the chirp drained from her demeanour. "Please – I don't want to think about it." A sigh. "No, I suppose you're right." "Come on – this storm isn't going to let up, we're going to have to find somewhere to stay where we can get warm. Come on – these stairs are very solid, they won't give way," he couldn't see her because of the darkness, and that worried him. "Iona?" "Come on!" Reluctantly, he followed the direction of her voice. It echoed through the empty halls, the cold stone walls doing nothing to give the place a welcoming atmosphere. The entrance lobby was big – he could only see the real extent of it when his eyes got used to the darkness. The stairs were fairly stable - he had to admit she was right. But then – she usually was. They were heavy marble, he could see the swirl in the stone even though the dust, and wondered what they had looked like before, when the place was clean. Refined elegance - that was what he imagined. Polished stone, polished people – you could feel it, even as the wind howled through the gaping doorway. "Aithran? Come and look at this place." Her voice came from along the extensive, marble-floored corridor at the top of the stairs. He passed a couple of doors that were ajar – signs of the people having left quickly, and eventually came to a door that shed a little light into the gloomy corridor. It was a huge place – open wooden floors, stylish furniture. There were many personal effects strewn all over the place, as though someone was still living here – photographs of smiling people from before the war, books, papers and hats and coats hanging on the wall by the door. "Through here." He voice came through another door, which he stepped towards. "The light's fading," he said as he came into a huge bedroom. "We'll need to make a fire soon." "There's a fireplace," she flung herself at him, hugging him, "look, they've left some matches!" "Great." That was a relief. It would be good to get a fire going quickly. She said, "there are so many things here – it's as though nobody ever left." "Somebody did leave, though. They took all the valuables. Come on, let's look for something to burn – we'll freeze soon if we're not careful." Leaving their bags in the bedroom, they scavenged through the rest of that floor of the building, piling up a substantial heap of wooden furniture that they would easily be able to break up and use to feed the fire. The boy, Aithran, used the old matches to start the fire, and some old papers to encourage the first flames. In a few minutes, the flames were flickering all over the small pile of wood in the hearth, and it was warm enough to start removing wet clothes. He took off his coat and stood up to lay it out in front of the fire while Iona went to close the bedroom door so that they could keep the heat in. He removed all his clothes until he was in just a pair of faded leather briefs – underwear that had never been scavenged, never been worn by anyone else, but had been made for him by his mother. He put his clothes over a couple of chairs that he could place near the fire. With all of his clothes drying in front of the flames, he pulled the mattress from the bed and dragged it down in front of the hearth so that he could then sit cross-legged and embrace the wonderful warmth. "Aren't you going to dry your clothes?" he asked. "In a minute," she was busy looking around the bedroom, peering in cupboards and examining all the things she found. Suddenly, she squealed with delight. Opening a door, she found a smaller room packed full of clothes of every kind. "Look at all the outfits!" He smiled, "You'll have to come here after the Solstice with your new man." "Aithran!" she began removing her garments, but not to allow them to dry – she was going to try on some new ones. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I'm trying on some new clothes, what do you think I'm doing?" "But we haven't room to carry them." "Who says I have to go home in the worn-out old things I'm wearing?" Pulling off her clothes, he watched her over his shoulder. He'd always thought she was incredibly beautiful, but there had never been the occasion to see her in less than full clothing. He kept his back to her to hide the fact that the contents of his briefs were expanding and silently cursed the fact that he could not have her. "How do I look?" "Beautiful." Iona had always loved flirting with him, teasing him, but had never stripped in front of him before. Down to her underwear, she felt a thrill from having his eyes on her while she was so exposed. She left her underwear on – though it was slightly damp – and began looking through the clothes that were hanging throughout the large walk-in closet. "Aren't you cold?" he asked, holding his hands palm out to the glorious heat of the flames. "A little," she said, "but have you seen all these wonderful clothes?" So she began trying them on, all different outfits and combinations, and he watched her, treasuring every glimpse of her stunning beauty, giving his opinion whenever she asked. After a long while, when she seemed to have worn more clothes in one afternoon than she'd ever worn in her life, Aithran got up to go and look out of the bedroom window. The heavy red curtains were drawn, but parting them let in a little more light – light that was very scarce now the winter sun was finally heading for the horizon. He stood watching the storm, marvelling that the windows still had glass to keep out the cold. Suddenly, Iona let out a surprised squeal. Aithran wheeled round and ran to the door of the closet. But she wasn't in danger. She was simply excited. "Look," she showed him what she'd found. A set of drawers full of all kinds of underwear. She began stripping off her latest outfit in front of him, and his jaw dropped as he watched, transfixed. As she removed her slightly ill-fitting bra he couldn't take his eyes off the exotic swell of her young breasts. But then, to his amazement, she dropped her panties. She saw him looking at her. "Like what you see?" she smiled, loving the attention. "Never seen anything so beautiful." It burned inside him when he saw her, especially since there was nothing now to conceal the tiny triangle of black snuggling between her thighs, and it was obvious she enjoyed such attention from him. She threw her old panties at him cheekily. "You'd better take advantage of it while you can – there's only three days until I belong to someone." "Don't be ridiculous, we're both underage." "By three days?" "Three days or not, it's still in the law." "The law's stupid. How do I look?" She showed him a black silk set of lingerie that made his already hardened penis really strain at the leather briefs he wore. "Incredible." He held her panties up to his face, breathing in her musky scent, revelling in that hint of spice that spoke of arousal and the very intimate contact of the soft cotton against her exquisite, never before revealed sex. He knew it was wrong, but that in three short days he would have to leave her and never see her again, and that filled his heart with the most terrible anguish. He loved her aroma – it thrilled him more than anything else he'd ever smelled before. He said, "You know my grandmother says that in the old days, when her grandmother was still suckling, before the old people were all driven out and killed, that men didn't move from village to village every Solstice. They stayed where they were." "Really?" Iona turned to show him her new underwear and found him pressing her old panties to his face, his eyes closed as he breathed deeply with his nose buried in her underwear. She silently watched him displaying his love for her with that one obsessive gesture and her heart melted. He broke off realising she was watching him and slightly shame-faced, stared back at her. He tried to divert her attention away from his behaviour, "You know apparently people used to choose just one partner for life back then. They'd stay with each other forever, until they died. Just them, and the men never had to move on. You look stunning." "Thank you. I think I'll take some of these clothes home instead of my old ones," she said, but he had wandered off back to the fire. "Oh look, some perfume." Her new fragrance was the first thing that announced her presence. He inhaled the air as it turned sweet, and then he felt her sit down behind him, placing her legs either side of his as she pressed her body against his back. The air was saturated with an enchanting aroma as she hooked her arms under his, pulling her close to him so that he could feel her expensive white lace against his skin. Her shapely legs, covered up to the lacy thighs by white nylon, paralleled his spreading wide in front of the fire. He shivered from the pleasure of the contact and she began to rub his broad shoulders, squeezing out the exhaustion from his powerful muscles. "Don't be sad." She whispered into his ear. "I don't want to go, Iona. I really don't want to go." He felt her hands sweep back under his arms and round to feel his well-defined chest. "I don't want you to go either," she sighed, "But the law is the law. There's nothing we can do about it. The gene pool must be mixed. You can't have two people who've grown up in the same village having children - " "Who says I'll ever be lucky enough to have children?" "Don't be like that, Aithran. You know, they think that men have a one in a hundred chance nowadays – that's pretty high in the scale of things." She hugged him tight, her lacy front pressing into his back, her breasts pressing into his shoulder blades. Her arms swarmed over his stomach, loving the warmth of the fire on his smooth skin. He said, "It still means ninety-nine out of every hundred of us will never pass on our genes. Our part in humanity will be over." Her face leaned over his shoulder, pressing her velvet cheek against his. He breathed her wonderful fragrance, which would doubtless attract men who would come from another village at the Solstice. He heard her breathing, slightly erratically as though she was nervous. "Well, you'll have more chance if you leave the village anyway. If you stayed here with me, chance would be very low that we'd ever give birth." Her hands moved further down his stomach and he was embarrassed she would find his penis had become very hard in his briefs. "I'm sorry," he said. "Why?" "I'm…you excite me." "Why does that make you sorry?" He lifted her hand and placed it onto his erection. "That's why." She whispered into his ear again and her delicate breath against his skin sent a glorious shiver down his spine: "No one needs to know," she whispered and started stroking him through the leather briefs. It felt wrong, yet at the same time so very right. He trembled as the sensations coursed through his veins. "What do you think of my outfit?" Her hands gripped his hard cock and started squeezing it through the soft leather. "If I was one of the men coming to your village in three days' time, I'd choose you." "Mmm…would you, though? You wouldn't rather have Selena or Elena…or Felicity?" "No, you know you're far more beautiful than they are…Wh-what are you doing?" Her fingers had slipped under his briefs and he flinched when he felt her hot hands bare around his hardness. "We'll get in trouble…" "No we won't. Nobody's anywhere near – listen to that storm. No one will know…" He leaned back against her and shifted down to give her easier access to massage his penis. Her fingers on one hand became wet and a little sticky as his pre-cum seeped out. "You're going to make it very hard for me to leave," he said, his voice husky from desire. "I'll give you memories you'll cherish forever," she whispered in his ear, then she withdrew her legs from beside his and stood up. She almost danced round until she was standing right in front of him, between his legs, her white lace covered crotch just inches away from his eyes, the dark triangle showing through the delicate lace. "How do I look?" she asked. "Incredible," he said, and she gave him a mischievous twirl, her hands on her hips, flaunting her irresistible figure. "If I were a visitor at the Solstice," he went on, "I'd snap you up straight away." "Uh huh?" she placed her feet outside his thighs but remained standing, placing her hands down onto his shoulders and moving so that her flat stomach and the slight rise of her precious mound were close enough to his face for him to touch her if he just leaned forward a little. Through the white lace of her newly acquired teddy, he could see the outline of her little bush, and he could smell the aroma of her arousal, that exciting muskiness similar to the traces he had come into contact with in her old panties. "And what would you do with me after you snapped me up?" He reached up and placed his hands on her soft behind, squeezing her hot flesh gently as he looked up into her fiery eyes. "Well," he replied, "naturally I'd want to mate with you as soon and as frequently as possible." "Mmm…" she moved her hips closer so that he came into contact with her body, with just the thin lace, see-through in places, between his face and her small triangle of jet-black. She gently placed her hands on his head and pressed him to her crotch, knowing that if he had liked the fragrance of her old panties, this would be even better for him. He felt her moisture seeping through the white lace and he nuzzled into her, inhaling her thrilling scent in a long, deep breath. "This is all wrong, you know," he said softly. "Who made up the Aftermath Law?" she asked. "Not God, that's for sure." "No, I suppose not." "It was a group of people like us after the war, looking to save the species. That's the only reason we're not allowed." "It does kind of make sense, though," he said, looking up into her eyes. "If everyone just fell for people in their own village, there'd be a lot of infertile offspring." "There already is," she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "Well if men didn't change women every six months, there'd be less chance of offspring altogether." "But we're breaking laws made by humans, not by nature." "You know they'd drive us out if they knew." "So they'll never know…" She leaned down and kissed him, long and passionately, holding the back of his head as she did so. She broke off and he leaned forward to kiss around the bare flesh at the top of her legs he got closer and closer to the lining of her teddy, and she groaned as he used his nose to push aside the garment. He stroked her soft down with his nose, breathing in her intimate scent as he kissed closer and closer to her glistening folds. She gasped as his tongue came into gentle contact with her swollen little bud, swirling around the tiny pink button in a circular motion that sent shockwaves through her body. She placed her hands on his head and pressed him against her. He broke off to plant small kisses all over her mound and outer labia, and her fingers urged him towards her oozing sex. At last, his tongue darted in between her pussy lips, and he was rewarded with the sudden intense tangy flavour of her arousal. "Lie down," he said, and she did so, dropping down onto the mattress beside him. He resumed position between her legs and deftly pulled her teddy down her delectable curves to give him full access to her body. Aftermath Law "Iona…" he said in between kisses around her inner thighs, "I think I love you." "Don't say that. Don't," she said, moaning as he once again got close to her dripping pussy. "I'm sorry," he replied. "If anyone finds out…" but her complaint turned into a loud moan as his lips met her clit and trailed down to nestle in between her tender inner labia. She gyrated her hips as he lapped at her hot juices, teasing her clitoris with his nose as his tongue delved into the depths of her sensuality. The howling wind outside seemed to echo her yelps as he took her over the blissful edge, sucking her clit into his hot mouth as she came in little rivulets, pressing his head to her body with her hands, locking him in place with her firm thighs against his ears as she screamed out in response to the incredible sensations wracking her petite frame. "Oh Aithran," she said breathlessly, "you're amazing. I never felt like that before…" "Perhaps it's something you'll remember me by," he said, a slightly mournful tone to his voice. "We still have all night together," she said, running her fingers through his hair reassuringly, "so let's enjoy it while can." "Why did we never do this before?" he asked as he moved up to her side, tracing his palms over her stomach and settling them on the sweet swells of her tender breasts. "I don't know. But we only have a few hours to put that right," she said, "and right now I want to feel you inside me…" "You're sure?" Aithran was concerned. "They put Wendal and Saffie to the torch for…" "That's just a story mothers tell their children to reinforce the Aftermath Law. You don't honestly believe it, do you?" "Well…" his fingers traced circles in her soft dark pussy hair. "Come on, no one could possibly find out." She pulled his head towards her, planting her sweet lips against his to kiss him reassuringly. One of her hands moved down over his skin, over the thin tangle of soft hair on his chest, down his firm stomach and under his small leather briefs. "Our secret," she whispered, and her fingers closed around the hot hardness between his legs. He looked into her eyes as she mounted him, pushing his underwear away to guide his stiffness into her slick warmth. 2 The village lay under the paltry light of the winter solstice sun, a collection of small ramshackle huts in an open area of old parkland that was one of the rare areas of the urban wasteland not covered by collapsed or collapsing masonry. Built out of fragments of concrete and brick, the tiny houses were solid, but distinctly unattractive dwellings. Architecture was one of many arts that had been forgotten as human society faced more pressing concerns. In the centre of the village, an open area that had been cleared of most of its snow acted as the focus of the community, and as the sun peaked in the sky, a ceremony was under way. At the head of the ritual, an old woman dressed in blue stood on a small platform, leading the villagers in prayer. "Bless them and make them fruitful," said the priestess, holding her hands up to the sky. "May they scavenge wisely, avoid the dangers of the city and live long to bear fruit in many new villages. In these and all things, Amen." The crowd all responded with their own amen, and the group of men who stood directly under the gaze of the priestess turned to the rest of the villagers. The two groups converged, with the women and small number of children saying their final goodbyes to the men folk who they would probably never see again. At the centre of the turbulence, Aithran and Iona held each other. She sobbed quietly into his shoulder, and all he could do was hold her tight and run his fingers through her silky hair, caressing her to try and calm her sadness. And it came to the time, with the men hiking up the heavy scavenging bags onto their backs and leaving the village for the last time. Aithran was the last of them, finding it impossibly difficult to break up from her embrace. But this was time – he'd been waiting all the years of his life for this moment, when he would become a man and start his travels. "I have to go," he said, breaking away from her desperate hold. "I love you," she whispered, so that none of the other villagers could hear. "And I love you," he whispered in reply, "I always will." There were tears in both their eyes. "Come on, Aithran," one of the other, older men called him. "If we don't leave now we won't get to the next village before sun down." And he was forced to leave her. "We will meet again," he said, turning to walk towards the departing men, "I promise." * "How do you cope with leaving every six months?" he asked Gregan as they followed the rest of the men winding their long way through the concrete jungle. "You get used to it," Gregan replied, "you'll see – in a couple of years it'll seem like you've never done anything else but move on every Solstice." "It numbs my mind to know that I'm never going to go back to the place where I grew up." He didn't reveal the true reason why it numbed his mind, however. Gregan patted him on the arm, "Aithran, that's the way life is, I'm afraid. As men it's our duty to bring back our species. One day, when population numbers are high enough again, men won't need to move around any more and they'll be able to stay near their mothers. But we're pioneers here – future generations will look back on us as heroes, giving up the chance to settle down to give our society a chance." "It's hard being a pioneer," he said, "and I really don't think I'm the hero type." "You wait until you're in the arms of the most beautiful girl in the next village, Aithran. You'll soon feel better." He smiled at Aithran, with a little envy in his eyes. As the youngest in the group, it was his prerogative to choose first when they reached the next village. It would be the same whenever they moved up until they come to a village where another boy would come of age and join the travellers. That was the way it worked – the men picked mates in order of age, the older men getting the last choices of women. It was designed so that the young men, who would have a higher chance of conception, would pick the women with the highest chance of being fertile. "Are all villages very different to each other?" he asked Gregan. "Not really," replied the slightly older man, "of course the people are all different, with slightly different ways, but you'll soon fit in." It was all very odd to Aithran. Here he was in a group of men he had only known for six months, since that was how long they'd been in the village before he had joined them. But now he was going to spend the rest of his life on the road with them. They were his family now. * "We're nearly there," said Dretton, one of the older members of their group. They were in a part of the city that didn't seem to be in too bad a condition. The buildings were fairly small and made mostly of brick – very sturdy, ancient little houses no more than eight storeys tall. "Do you see that tower over there?" He pointed off to the distance, where an enormous skyscraper loomed over the surrounding houses. "Why hasn't it been destroyed?" Smithie, a short but fairly old man asked. "It was – partially," he nodded, "but apparently the community of their village originally included some experts in construction and engineering." "How does he know all that?" Aithran whispered to Gregan. "He's been briefed by the priestess from your old village," he replied. "that's the way the whole operation works: the priestess in each village knows all about the next village, so that she can brief the men about where they are going next and how to get there." "Oh, I see." "This place is quite out of the ordinary apparently," Gregan's features were very animated, transparent to his mood of quiet excitement. As they got closer, the tower loomed over them, impossible in scale, really taking their breaths away as it rose into the clouds. Aithran stumbled a few times since his attention was not on the road, but on the enormous edifice that seemed to hold up the sky. "They're here, they're here!" a young girl's voice cried, and they saw her run out of a building in front of them and sprint off towards the tower. Far too young to be of age, Aithran noted, wondering what the women would be like for him to choose from. His heart sank as he realised that he would have to choose someone who wasn't Iona. The tower was there in front of them, filling their view. A large group of people stood in front of it – this place was larger than Aithran's home village, then – at least twice the population. "Where's their village?" he asked Gregan. "You're looking at it," the older man replied, "their village goes all the way up to the sky." "They live in that thing? How can it be safe?" "Their ancestors made it safe, back in the days just after the war when the Survivor's Network hadn't even been formed." Aithran and the men picked their way through the rubble, and approached the villagers. "Welcome," an old woman, who was presumably their priestess, came forward, "welcome to Camden." The people moved forward to greet them, and young women put flower necklaces around their necks. Aithran looked at them, already trying to come to a decision. There were quite a mixture of faces, but there were a few strikingly attractive ones. The first choice would be his – maybe he would be able to keep Iona out of his mind. The welcoming ceremony was similar to their departing ceremony, but the daylight had faded by the time the priestess prayed for their fruitfulness, and the villagers had to hold burning torches to illuminate proceedings. Then, finally, it came to the time for choosing. The women all presented themselves to the men in a line, and the priestess motioned for Aithran to come forward and look at them. "Go ahead," said the priestess as he approached the line of women, "inspect and choose." He went forward to the line, turning to see Gregan's encouraging smile behind him. There were a lot of very different looking women here – that was the gene mixing process working perfectly – but for now, Aithran had the pick of them all, so he was only going to be looking at the youngest ones. There would be more chance of a healthy infant if he conceived with a young girl. Out of the entire line, about six or seven were less than a few years older than him, and two girls looked to be just as old as him – they must have come of age right on that Solstice as he had done. Five out of the young seven were very pretty, the other two perhaps a little plain, so it was a difficult choice. He would spend six months with his selection, after all. "Take your time," the priestess said to him, "this is the most important decision you'll make until the summer solstice. Touch them if you like – they won't object." He nodded and approached the first girl, who had a bob of golden blonde hair. She smiled at him, her emerald green eyes urging him to pick her. He touched her cheek gently, enjoying the feel of her hot, soft skin, and she moaned quietly, perhaps trying to seduce him into choosing her. But he moved on, slowly getting more confidence, until he felt able to run his fingers over the entire girls' bodies to feel their curves and their trembling flesh. In the end, he had decided that it would be between two girls – the youngest of them all, a pretty little redhead, and a slightly older girl with very dark brown hair. But the older girl just looked a little too much like Iona, and that hurt him deep inside. He moved to the young redhead and took her hand, "this one," he said, "I choose this one." The redhead's face lit up, filled with joy at being picked by the most eligible man, and she looked briefly to her fellow village women to communicate her excitement. The priestess nodded. "Go on, Sarah," the old woman said, "take him up." The redhead took his hand and led him away, and he heard the other men begin to choose before they headed into the tower. "My name's Sarah," she said to him as they went into the huge building. "I'm Aithran," he replied, wondering at the extravagant clean elegance of the place. "I'm so thrilled that you picked me," she said, "I came of age today, and I was picked first!" she almost squealed in delight. "Where is your house?" he asked her, not really understanding the concept of living in a huge tower like this. "I have an apartment," she said, "it's like a house but it's inside this tower. None of the men seem to understand how we live here when they come ever solstice." "It's certainly nothing like my old village," Aithran said. "We have to walk quite a long way up, I'm afraid," she said. It certainly was a climb, but Sarah explained something of their society as they went up, and he found that by the time they reached the door she announced as hers, he had warmed to her. Inside, the place was very large – much larger in area than even an entire house back home. Sarah explained that they had so much space in the tower that they didn't really know what to do with it all, so their apartments were all very big. But what Aithran was so taken with was not the size, or even the stylish furniture – which must have been well scavenged – his jaw dropped as he walked to the enormous windows, and the entire world spread out before him. "Oh my God," he said, "this place is amazing!" "I love it here," she smiled, happy that he was impressed. "Why was it never destroyed in the war?" She shrugged, "I don't know really – I was never much interested in history. I think it was built out of some amazing new material that prevented damage. It wasn't completely untouched, though – I know our ancestors had to carry out some extensive repairs." "It really makes you wonder what the world will be like when its fully populated again. If humans can achieve this…wow, it really blows the mind." "Now," she said, "do you want some food first?" "That would be great." "Then I'll get a bath ready and you can soak your tired muscles." During a well-needed feed, Sarah boiled a load of water and went through to a bathroom with it. Aithran finished, and she led him through to where an enormous tub lay filled and many candles sat flickering all around. As he undressed, Sarah sat on a chair nearby. He had never bathed in the presence of a girl before, and it made him feel slightly nervous. Silently, he told himself not to be so foolish – he would be spending six months with this girl, and in that time no doubt she'd become as familiar with his body as he was already. As he finally dropped his small leather underwear, however, he did notice a fire in her eyes. He felt her gaze on his stirring penis as well as the cool air. Trying to keep calm, to retain some dignity in his nudity, he tried to blank his mind. Thankfully the soap in the water did well to lend him some cover, so that when he looked at the young redhead, and the way her tight dress revealed the shape of her underwear and her curves, and her crossed legs revealed the tops of her stockings, his erection lay hidden. "Won't you join me?" he asked, not wanting to have to get out in front of her in this state. "Oh," she hadn't been expecting that, "well…yes, of course." It was as though she'd had his seduction all planned out in advance. She must have known that someone would have picked her – she was certainly one of the prettiest in the community, and definitely the youngest out of those who were of age. It might have surprised her to be picked first, but she had obviously prepared herself well. He wondered if Iona had spent the day back in their home village preparing for her new man. But then Sarah came towards him, standing close to his head as she began to remove her clothing, and Aithran managed to keep his mind away from thoughts of Iona. She slipped off her shoes and placed a black nylon covered foot on the edge of the bath so that Aithran could look right up her dress to her black silk panties. He placed his hand on her knee as she rolled the stocking down her thigh. Taking off the stocking, she changed feet to remove the other. Aithran glided his hand up her inner thigh to touch the soft silk of her underwear, and she moaned softly as he caressed her, feeling the moisture seep through the delicate material. She deliberately delayed removing that final stocking to allow him to continue stroking her between her thighs, but then he withdrew his hand to encourage her to undress further. He felt his hot hardness throbbing against his stomach as he watched her slip her dress over her curves to reveal a petite frame that was very easy on the eye. She had very pale skin, but creamy and enticing rather than pallid and anaemic. The black silk that covered her small breasts and her mound contrasted starkly with her body. "You're very beautiful, Sarah," he said, tracing his hand back up her thigh as she stood close to the bath and reached behind to flick the catch on her bra. "Thank you," she smiled, but then flinched as his fingers reached her panties once again. "Oh God," she whispered, and her bra dropped to reveal sweet little breasts peaked by pale pink nipples hard as diamonds. He sat up in front of her and raised his hands to her waist, hooking his fingers over the elastic of her panties to slowly bring them down her abdomen, over her hips and then allowing them to drop to the floor. Her bright cherry red bush was right in front of him, seeming to reflect the light of the candles with its colour. She didn't move as he used his fingers to gently explore her, trailing in circular motion all around her most intimate area. His fingers reached her tender pink slit that was already very wet, and she parted her legs slightly to give him easier access. Two fingers slipped inside her young, hot vagina, seeking out her inner topography, finding her most sensitive point and kneading it gently to spur on her heavy breathing and soft moans. It all became a little much for her then, and her legs visibly trembled. "Climb in," he said to her, and she opened her eyes and nodded. He licked his fingers as she climbed in, and he gained a nice view of her scarlet framed pussy as she did so. She sat down astride him, and he immediately helped her slide his hard penis inside her burning hot vagina. She twined her arms around his neck and her breath was coming faster and faster while a faint flush coloured her face and upper body. She lowered herself and took all of him inside her and his hips bucked upward in response as he groaned softly. Sarah leaned forward until her perky little breasts were in his face, and he took first one and then the other nipple in his hot mouth, licking and flicking it with his tongue and then sucking it firmly in his mouth. Her hips began revolving in a corkscrew motion and she pushed down so that the tip of his penis touched the entrance to her womb. He lost control then, grabbing her behind and thrusting up, faster and faster as his orgasm neared. Sarah answered every move with her own, her hair flying wildly about her face as she swung her head from side to side. She screamed and he came with her, the sensations almost hurting they were so strong. Her orgasm coincided with his, and she cried out and slammed down on him as her entire pelvis shook in spasms. She collapsed, her hips still moving, her vaginal muscles contracting over his throbbing penis as if milking the last drops of semen, desperate for every last chance of conception. Yet as Aithran's erection softened within her, he did not feel the pure exhilarated satisfaction he had experienced with Iona: there was a slight emptiness that came from an emotional detachment from this stranger he had just penetrated. Would that always be the case now? Would he never experience that intense fire again? Aftermath Law 3 It was a month later that a similar storm caught Aithran out scavenging as it had once before when he had been with Iona. This time he was alone, because the tower community didn't have the women out scavenging at all - the men had to go out alone. He had a heavy load on his back again, with some items that were not worth dropping to make it home. If he wanted to keep them, he would have to find somewhere to spend the night. He'd been out all day, and cursed himself for not heading back earlier. With the snow coming down in sheets again, there would be no way to get back, and with visibility cut to almost nothing, he would be in danger of getting lost and then freezing to death. The thunder and lightning ruptured the sky as he searched for a stable building to call home for the night. It saddened him, because it reminded him of that final night with his sweet Iona, and the intense feelings he had experienced with her that could not be replicated with anyone else. Four weeks of constant contact with Sarah was not unpleasant, but they both treated it as a kind of duty. Although they enjoyed it and shared much tender affection, it really wasn't quite the same as what he'd had with Iona. After a couple of weeks, he had started seeing Iona in his dreams, his unconscious mind imagining him to be in her arms to make him feel so incredibly happy – until he awoke and the loss hit him all over again. As the snow began to fall heavily, he really missed the sweet smile of that perfect girl he'd grown up with. Then he had a strange sense of déjà vu. He saw houses he'd seen before, streets that seemed familiar. A few minutes of this, and he was almost certain he had been there some time in the past. Had he wondered so far that he was in the scavenging area of his first village? He knew, of course, where to go from here. He thought he might as well go the whole hog and sleep in a place he knew well wouldn't let him down. Sure enough, he didn't find much of a problem locating that little street, clambering over the piles of snow covered rubble to find that open doorway and the marble interior of the exclusive apartment building. Sad he may have been that he was there without her, but he knew that the two of them had been safe in there as they had made love until sunrise, and that was what he needed. It wasn't long before he was back toasting his hands on front of a blazing fire, sitting on the mattress absorbing the wonderful warmth. It wasn't the same without her. The ghosts in the place began to get to him after a while, it was too empty a place, and the sound of the crackling fire was not sufficient to block the eerie howling wind outside. His mind had nothing to do but wander, meandering through all kinds of questions. How was she? Was she happy with her new partner? Had she forgotten him? Was she already pregnant with another man's child? But then, as he was finally beginning to drift off to sleep, a pair of arms reached underneath his and he jumped, startled. "I can't believe you're here!" she whispered into his ear. He thought at first he must have gone insane – snow madness, if that was possible. But he turned and she was just too real, too solid and touchable. "Am I dreaming?" he asked as she ran her hands over his head and kissed his cheek over and over again. "No, my love. I was caught in the storm so I came here – I knew it would be safe. It looks like you had the same idea." "I cannot believe it's you. I haven't stopped thinking about you in weeks." "Then stop thinking and kiss me," she said, and he rolled over to lie on top of her, his mouth joining passionately with hers. They tangled for what seemed like hours, just holding each other, stroking each other and kissing. Their hands roamed all over their bodies, seeking to move under clothing, but not going so far as to remove any garments. Their breathing deepened and their heart rates quickened, and they drowned in each other's wonderful presence. After a long while, he moved down her soft, white neck, and with each kiss she let out a quiet moan. She was so responsive to every touch, every kiss, her back arching up against him as he got to the top of her breasts. He felt the swell of her chest through her shirt, so firm and soft but with nipples that pushed hard against the material. Fumbling with her buttons, he unfastened her shirt and continued kissing her down to her soft breasts, and he felt her body began to quiver from the sensations she was feeling. He pulled off her entire shirt, exposing her beautiful breasts, then dove in and started kissing them and sucking furiously, lashing her with his tongue. "Oh..." she gasped, starting to tremble uncontrollably. Just as she was ready to soar over the edge, he slipped a hand down her front and into her sodden panties, and massaged the area under the top of her underwear. Her skin was hot and smooth, and this time she pressed herself up against his hand. His hand dropped down further, travelling through a soft patch of wispy hairs that were already drenched with her juices. He could smell her arousal now, that fresh, tangy, aroma wafting from her slick pussy as his fingers slid into it, his thumb locating her swollen clitoris. After only a few seconds of touching her there, her pussy tightened even more around his finger and she exploded, her whole body writhing from the overwhelming feelings her love was making her feel. Wave after wave of release swept over her body as he relaxed his fingers inside her. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Oh Aithran," she whispered, unable to speak without trembling. "I love you. I really do." "You're so beautiful, Iona," he said, "will you let me look at you?" She smiled, that expression that warmed him inside immensely, and allowed him to remove her clothes, pulling off her shirt and rolling down her wet panties, lifting her legs to pull them off her ankles. He looked down at her, completely nude before his gaze. A beautiful young girl, naked, her jet-black hair seeming to absorb the light of the flames, her pale skin glistening with sweat, her slender thighs slippery with her emissions. "I wish I had grown up in a different village to you," he said. "Then we might have been together." "But then we would have been together for only six months. At least this way we've been able to spend years together." "But not…not fully." She looked at him with those big, blue, adoring eyes. She parted her thighs and he could see her pretty little pink pussy, puffed open, wet and very enticing. "You know we can meet up here? We just need to organise it." "People will grow suspicious." "It'll be worth it." She wiggled her hips a little, offering him her all. He lowered his head between her legs and inhaled her scent. He kissed her slick thighs, then ran his mouth up to her mound to taste that succulent little pussy. She was delicious, so tangy and fresh. He ran his tongue all over her soft labia, flicking her clit, and darting into her vagina. She held his head as he slid his tongue inside her, loving every second of it. Sarah had never been a big fan of this: she was an impatient girl, wanting him to get straight to the business at hand most of the time. But here with his sweet Iona, he could experience every aspect of her mouth-watering body. He could have continued all night, she was so sweet tasting and responsive to his slightest movement. But he wanted to feel her hot wetness engulf his rigid erection… 4 "Where were you?" Sarah was angry when he got home. "I was caught in the storm – I thought it better to shelter rather than risk freezing to death on my way home." "All the other men made it back." "Well I strayed further than anyone else." "Aithran, you know I'm at my peak fertility at the moment," and that was the difference between what he had with Iona and what he had with this young redhead. He was just a sperm machine to this one. "Come on," she pulled him towards the bedroom. "We'll have to make up for lost time." She was naked in record time, waiting for him with her fingers between her legs, getting wet for him so that he could penetrate her as soon as possible. This evening, however, only twelve hours or so after leaving Iona, he really didn't feel like bedding Sarah. "Turn over," he told her as he removed his clothes and clambered onto the bed. She didn't even question him, rolling over onto her hands and knees to present her glistening pussy up to him with her pale behind pointed skywards. He had to stroke himself a little to harden up, and at the same time put a hand to her soft slit to make sure she was wet enough. But when he slid his cock deep inside her, he imagined it was Iona to whom he was making love. * The next few months went by, and making love to Sarah slowly started to become a chore. Aithran would get home after a hard day's scavenging, and she would force him into bed every night. She did make an effort to keep him interested, that was certain, she kept herself immaculately clean and shaved, she would dress up in exotic clothing and even dance for him. But much as the initial interest was there when she did something new, it didn't last very long, and the only sure-fire way for him to cope was by imagining it was Iona he was sleeping with. He got her to bleach her hair – not telling her why – so that she even resembled his sweet love. As for Iona herself, they met up once a month without fail, during the day so that neither of them would be missed in the evening. Occasionally they managed to meet twice a month, but any more would have made people in their respective villages suspicious. And he looked forward to that time with Iona all month, as it was the most heavenly time. Soon, however, the summer came and with it, the next Solstice. Aithran left Sarah childless, and moved on to another village with the men – this time a fairly ordinary settlement compared with the mighty tower – a little further away from his and Iona's meeting place. Again, it was his first pick at the new village, and he chose Maria, who wasn't the youngest girl there at nineteen summers in age, but was the most similar girl in appearance to Iona. Maria was more experienced in bed, and when he was with her, he actually managed to put Iona out of his mind. But once a month – and sometimes twice - he still busted a gut to get to that apartment block again for a rendezvous with the girl he loved. 5 Then, a few months later, Iona didn't appear. He waited for her all day, wondering if he'd got the wrong day. But he knew he hadn't. He waited in that apartment, warming himself by the flames of the fire, hoping that he would just be able to see her, if only for a moment. It got so that it was too dark to safely go home. He would stumble and fall, breaking a limb or something worse. There was no storm to explain his disappearance to Maria when he got back, so he spent a while thinking up what he was going to say. Some time late in the evening, he heard someone closing the apartment front door, and his heart lifted. When the bedroom door opened, he was up on his feet, ready to embrace his love and lift her off her feet. But the door opened, and it wasn't Iona standing there before him. "Hello, Aithran." The girl was younger than Iona, with a short bell of mousy brown hair and a cluster of freckles on her little nose. "Haley," he said, "what are you doing here?" "Iona sent me," she said, "since I have no man yet to expect me home." "What's happened?" he held her shoulders, imploring her to tell him quickly, to get it over soon. "She's all right, don't worry," Haley said, looking deep into his eyes, "but she's pregnant now - it's official." "Well that's – " he broke off, unsure of his feelings. "That's wonderful. She must be very happy." "She is," Haley nodded, "but she said she'd rather be with you." "She…" he looked at the girl, who would no doubt be coming of age at the next Solstice. Did she know what he had with Iona? She answered his question as though she could read his mind. "I know about you two. Iona told me everything. You know, her current man can't get it up." "What?" "He can't get it up – he can't get his penis hard enough to put it in her. He has to give her his seed so she can fertilise herself." "Really?" "Yes, really. But when she takes his seed, she secretly wipes it off her hands, because she doesn't want a kid from a father that can't get it up." "Her line would come to an end," he nodded. "But she's pregnant," said Haley, "and you know what that means?" "No?" "You are the only one who could possibly have fathered her child." The shock tore through his body. He felt hot all over, but also freezing cold at the same time. His vision went a little fizzy, as though he was going to pass out at any moment. "I have to sit down," he said, and they both went to sit by the fire. "How many people know this?" he asked her. "Only us three," said Haley, "And that's the way it can stay – no one need know about this." She seemed to be angling for something. Aithran didn't ask what she wanted to keep her silence. "I won't reveal anything, Aithran," she said to him, "but you have to do something for me." "What?" he didn't like where this was going. "You have to meet with me – instead of her – once every fortnight, so that you can get me pregnant." "What?" he nearly shouted, "Haley, you're her friend!" "I know," she was resolute, "but do you know how low the chances of pregnancy are around here? I could be childless my whole life. You're proven now." "You're too young anyway." "In a few months it'll be the winter Solstice and I'll be of age. Aithran, you don't think that women suddenly become biologically capable at the Solstice? I'm already able to conceive, you know." "I won't do it," he said, "I've already affected the gene pool by conceiving in my home village. I'd be exiled if anyone knew – even worse, maybe. If they found out I'd been trying to get you pregnant too, I'd be surely put to death." "No you wouldn't," she said, "no one would ever know. Do you think I'd be safe if anyone found out? No, the best way is that you meet me twice a month, without fail, and then I'll keep silent and everyone will be happy." He shook his head, "you know, after the Solstice, I might have to move to a village that will be simply too far away from here." She shrugged, "that's why we have to start now, make the most of the next few months." And he had no answer for her. While he sat in silence, unable to persuade her to leave him, she peeled off her clothes. She certainly was pretty – he couldn't deny that, and as she tossed her clothes to the side, his penis was hard between his thighs, but she did seem so very young. Her eyes were wide and seemed full of innocence, her skin had a youthful glow of visible naivety and inexperience, her breasts were so small and tender, her coltish legs and slender form hardly much more than a girl. She slipped her panties down her thighs and he had to tell himself that she was only three months away from coming of age so he wouldn't lose it. She had hardly any hair at all above her clean little slit – some girls didn't develop as fast as others, though. She threw her underwear towards him, and he inhaled her aroma. Definite arousal there, that spicy muskiness in the cotton that was already damp. She couldn't have been this wet from just their meeting: she had been anticipating this meeting. She had known what she was going to make him do before she had even got here. "What do you think?" she asked, taking a step forward towards him. "You're a very attractive girl, Haley," he said, "but are sure you're ready for this?" "Of course I am," she moved further forwards, "can't you see how wet I am for you?" Her young pussy was just a few inches from his face – he could smell the strong fragrance of her excitement. He placed his hands softly on her hips and looked at her tender slit with its sprinkling of brown on her subtle mound, then moved his eyes up her underdeveloped curves to her face. "I can see that," he said, "but I'm just not sure if I should…" "Aithran, you don't have the choice." She said, "I can tell everyone your secrets and then you'd be exiled." Her hands went to his head and gently she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him towards her pussy. He couldn't refuse, and found his face resting against her soft mound with its mottling of sparse down. "Come on," she said, "I'll be officially able to do this anyway in just three months." "Well…" he ran out of argument. "If Iona finds out about this," he warned, "your life won't be worth living." "Of course," she smiled, and stepped back, "now take off your clothes." * Then a few days before the Solstice, life changed again. For three months he'd been regularly seeing the young Haley to do his best to get her pregnant. She was quite fun to be with – and her young pussy was tighter than Maria's – but Haley was a constant reminder of Iona, a reminder that he could not see her, and that was very painful. But that last time, when Haley was more excited than ever because in just seven days she would be getting a man to constantly attend to her fertilisation, he had stayed with her a little too long. Aithran knew that Maria was getting a little suspicious – he was far more exhausted than other men when he got back every so often, yet hadn't scavenged nearly as much. So now if he was to be late, she would get really angry. So Aithran hurried as best as he could, but that haste meant he took less care, and he stumbled and slipped on some loose rubble. He fell: how far, he did not know, but when he landed, the pain was excruciating. And when he tried to get up, he couldn't. He thanked God that he had had this accident close to the village, for though he couldn't walk, eventually he was able to drag himself using his three usable limbs. It was dark when he eventually reached the clutch of small huts that was his temporary home. He made it to the doorway of Maria's residence, and knocked as hard as he could. Three knocks and he collapsed, exhausted. 6 He woke up in a strange building that he had never seen before. Sparsely furnished, the place was spotlessly clean, with the bed that he lay on, a small wardrobe and a lone bedside table, on which rested three books. A dull throb wracked through his damaged leg, but when he reached down to try and scratch the irritated limb, he found it encased in hard plaster. It was broken, then. Two days until the Solstice: he wouldn't be leaving with Gregan and the others, then. What would become of him? Would he join a new group of men? The door opened, and into the room came a woman dressed from head to toe in white: hat, dress, shoes. Between twenty and twenty-five, he guessed, brown hair, green eyes: she was pretty, certainly, but quite a serious looking woman. "How are you feeling?" "Uh…" he said, "it aches." "It will for a while – I have some medicine for you – it should take care of the pain." "Where am I?" "You're in the San, Aithran. The Sanatorium. My name's Sally – I'm the nurse here. You did well to make it back to the village with the state of your leg. Most men would have faded out there and never made it back. You're a determined person." Determined, yes. Recalling the journey back to the village, he remembered that every inch of the way there had been the face of Iona burned into his retinas. Had he given up the ghost and lain down to die, he would never have seen her face again. "I had my reasons." "Yes, you must have." She poured a small glass with a strange-looking fluid – milky, but with a greenish tint. "You have strong genes, Aithran. If you ever reproduce, humanity will be all the better for it." Aftermath Law "Thank you." He took the glass and swigged it. It was foul, and he winced as he swallowed. "What is it?" He asked, his face screwed up from the bitter taste it left in his mouth. "We make it from the bark of the willow tree," she said. "It's an ancient remedy we found in a number of books salvaged. It might taste awful, but for the next two months or so, you'll come to depend on it." "Two months?" Aithran was horrified. "I'm afraid so. We can't rush recovery." She smiled, taking his glass from his hand and retiring from the room. Aithran sighed: it looked as though his life was getting more and more complicated, and there's nothing so depressing than complication in life. There was nothing he could do but pick up a book and ride out the tedium as the pain in his leg slowly began to subside. But those two months were to be entirely without event. Though Maria went to a new man at the Solstice, Aithran wasn't entirely alone in his hospital bed as he recovered from his situation. The first evening after the Solstice, the nurse Sally came into his room and sat on his bed, the top button on her pristine white uniform casually undone. "How are you feeling?" She asked. "I don't know…" he said. "That medicine of yours is pretty effective." "Good," she said. "But it's going to be a long two months," he said gloomily. "Yes," she said, "you won't be able to go to your next village for some weeks. Still, if there's anything I can do to make your stay a little more…pleasurable…" To his surprise, he found her hand sweeping up his healthy leg to his crotch, where her dextrous fingers sought out his hardening penis. He looked at her, his jaw dropping in an obvious expression of disbelief. "As a nurse," she said, "I don't get a man at the Solstice – I have to be on call at any hour of the day or night." "How did you get to be nurse?" "Well someone has to do it," she said. "At least there's no chance I'll have to spend six months with a man I absolutely hate…but a girl does have needs…" Her fingers found his fly and soon his hardened shaft was fully exposed, her fingers enclosing his hot flesh. "I don't usually get a handsome young man to look after," she said, smiling at him with blatant lust in her emerald eyes. "Well I look forward to you looking after me," he said, and she pulled his clothing fully away from his clothing and began to kiss him around his stomach and the tops of his thighs as her hand gripped his hard cock and squeezed, motioning up and down to really get him going. Planting little kisses closer and closer to his erect shaft, he felt her hot breath tickling his sensitive skin. He couldn't help letting out a moan as her lips moved over his sac to the base of his penis, and when that intense heat suddenly engulfed his sensitive helmet, swarming over the pre-come coated end, he closed his eyes as if to prevent pure sensory overload. "You think you can handle a little real nursing?" she said as she climbed astride him, her short white dress riding up to show a distinct lack of underwear underneath, the top of her dress unbuttoning before his very eyes to allow her chest to burst free. "No pain, no gain – isn't that the saying?" he smiled as she sank down on his hardness. "You sound like a real hero," she said, her hot pussy clamping around him, so very wet in her arousal as his hands found their way to her breasts, his fingers to her stiffened nipples. * Yet even nightly visits from nurse Sally did not keep Aithran's mental well being high for long. His mind kept wondering back to Iona - the sweetest person in the entire cracked world - and the child that he had not even seen. A few weeks into the new season, Sally brought a group of young women in to see him, and so strong were the questions about Iona in his mind, that he didn't even pay attention. It was all in a haze as Sally taught the girls who would be of age at the next Solstice how to pleasure a man. He just lay on his back, from day to day, in various states of undress as various women used his body to suit their purposes – education, pleasure, release. * But release did eventually come for him, too. Two months, and he was back on his feet. He worked intensely hard to get walking again, taking as much physiotherapy every day as was humanly possible to get tone back in the limb so that he could leave the village and start the rest of his life. Sally tried to persuade him to stay: to ride out the remainder of the season with her, but he wasn't to be discouraged. His bag was packed and on his back, and he was on the road. But though he received a full briefing as to where the next village was and how he could catch up with his group, he was resolute in his action: he was going back to a certain room in a certain empty apartment in a desolate part of the ruined metropolis. 8 He slept there, in front of the fire, alone but resolute. He was determined to find his true love: he couldn't face moving from village to village, steadily further away from her. But though he was exhausted after a long trek through unstable terrain, sleep was hard to come by. While still tired, there was a thrill deep within his chest about what he was planning, a thrill that wouldn't set his heart at a relaxed pace sufficient for sleep to creep through his system. For hours, he gazed into the dancing orange and yellow devils, picturing her impish smile in his mind, recollecting the warm, buttery feeling he felt inside whenever she was with him. His whole body trembled at the anticipation for what he was to do the next day. As the fire burned down to glowing embers, his eyes finally closed. * In the morning, he was up and ready to leave within a few brief minutes of first waking. His body brimmed with adrenaline, which made him want to run all the way to his home village, but he controlled himself, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. He knew the trouble that carelessness could cause: one wrong foot on a heap of rubble and he could have another broken limb, and in his current situation, he was too far away from safety to recover. Through the day, the closer to his childhood home he got, the stronger the confusing feelings of familiarity and rejection were within him: this was the neighbourhood of his birth, his upbringing, his real happiness before uncertainty and loss moved into his life. But it was also a place that he was not permitted to return to, a place that had spat him out as soon as he had been old enough and wasn't expecting him back. He kept to the shadows as he got near to the village, his life depending on not being spotted by anyone save for the one he'd come for. But as the sun slowly went down, he was ready for the final stretch. He actually slept as he waited, concealing himself where he knew nobody from the village would venture, close to the collection of small huts, but too risky for anyone to explore. And when he opened his eyes and it was fully dark, it was as though his heart was on fire. Now was the moment that would make – or break – his entire future. He leaned out of a glassless window, peering across at the village. The space between the huts was empty: aside from a few wandering animals, the village folk were inside – either sleeping, or if they were of age, trying desperately to breed. He crept through the night like a thief, forever flicking glances all around his environment to check for the slightest threat. But thankfully, Iona's hut was on the fringe of the village, and the reliable form of society here meant that there was no one around to catch sight of him. He hovered at a window of her one-room dwelling, and silently shifted the sackcloth curtain to peer inside. And his heart sank into the pit of his horrified stomach. He heard it first before he saw it, but there was what he had worried about hundreds of times since he had last been in this very village. "You stupid bitch," the man said, and the gut-wrenching clap of his hand against her delicate cheek cracked through the air. "You'll do whatever I tell you to. You just don't learn, do you?" He hit her again. Aithran stood, mortified, unable to move he was so horrified. "Please…" She stammered, her heavily bruised face causing her to mangle her consonants. "I…I just don't feel I can…" "Listen, bitch. I've had enough of your mouth, d'you hear?" He hit her again, so hard that she collapsed to the floor in a sobbing heap of misery. "D'you hear?" His scream was almost a screech, rage running raw through his demonic face. A huge monster with a poor, wretched little innocent girl at his feet, unable to defend herself. "If you don't take off your clothes now, bitch, I'm going to tear them off you, and you know well that you don't want that." "N-n-no…" she said, struggling to pull her clothing from her body. Aithran couldn't believe it: her face was nearly unrecognisable it was so purple and misshapen. She looked up, and for a brief moment he thought she had caught sight of him. She seemed to peer at the window, but one of her eyes was swollen and closed, the other squinting through sheer pain. Removing her dress, her exposed skin bore even more of a horror story. Aithran looked away, wincing. His gaze fell downwards, and he froze. Looking up at him, terrified under a brown blanket was the tiny face of a young toddler. His son. The little boy stared up at the stranger at the window, a pleading expression on his tiny face. Aithran winked, and allowed the curtain to fall back in place. He stepped back into the darkness. "That's better," said the ogre, "you don't need any of this shit, you know. You stop acting the frigid bitch and you'd soon be healthy enough to go back outside." Iona sniffed as he approached her naked form, putting his hands all over her blackened body. Perhaps she should have submitted to him - it would have been less painful, that was certain. It was going to be excruciatingly agonizing having him press his substantial weight upon her, his brutal power into her dry vagina. But there was no rescue now. He was on her, the enemy at her gate. It was just too much for her. The throbbing, rippling agony burning through her system seemed to leach her last remaining drop of energy and she collapsed completely, the light of the central fireplace effervescing into a haze of unconsciousness, reality fading into a fizzing dreamlike state, and just before her lights went out completely, the pain so much that her mind itself was shutting down, she had a sudden lucid hallucination that her dear Aithran was with her again, and everything was all right. 9 Iona woke completely bewildered. She recalled bizarre dreams that didn't connect – visions of her son, Daniel, and Aithran, her beloved Aithran, all tangled with pictures of the monster who had made the last few months of her existence a living hell. She was instantly afraid when full consciousness returned. She sat up, wincing in expectation of massive levels of pain in her body. But none came. The chill air bit at her skin, so she wrapped herself in the soft woollen blanket. And it made her wonder: where was she? Where did this blanket come from? Why was she not in her little hut? She was in a different room: somewhere she had never been. It was dark, with light coming from one direction, from in front of her. The walls were of rock, and the furnishings very Spartan in appearance. She got to her feet, holding the blanket around her nudity, and stepped off the low mattress. There was a strange peacefulness in the air, yet a noise that was most bizarre – like the sloshing of a vast amount of water. She parted the curtain that separated the blackness of the room from the daylight outside, and an expression of incredulity and shock exploded in her face. She emerged into the brightness, stepping from the dirt floor onto soft, emerald green grass. In front of her, a few metres above dark craggy rocks, a vast expanse of blue spread out as far as the eye could see, to the horizon that was so strangely flat. White birds swooped and soared in the windy blue sky above, calling to each other as the water below crashed against the rocks. The air seemed so clean, so fresh, with an aroma of wild flowers and the strange cleanliness she had never smelled before, that seemed to come from the blue water that could be nothing other than the ocean that myths and legends from childhood had described. "Iona!" the voice called with purest joy, and just the sound of her name in that voice filled her entire existence with unparalleled bliss. She turned, and walking towards her with little Daniel sitting on his shoulders was Aithran, the man who made her complete, the man she loved more than life itself. She ran to him, surprised again that the pain did not thwart her efforts. He stooped, depositing his cheerful son onto his tiny feet so that he could embrace his beloved. "Where are on earth are we?" she asked him as they broke apart from a long, passionate kiss. The surreal, dreamlike landscape and the painless state of her body felt unnatural, as though the beatings she had so regularly received had finally made her depart the misery of the urban wasteland and she was now in heaven. "We're safe," he said. "And we're together." "What happened?" it was all she could put into words: her head was so filled with questions. "Welcome to Dorset," he said. "We escaped, and now we're here. It was a long journey, and you slept through most of it. But we're finally here, sweet Iona. We're free to start afresh. This is a settled community – the men don't move on here." She looked around them, at all the other dwelling places that were cut into the cliff face just like the one she had just emerged from. People were busy everywhere, going about daily life with innocent cheerfulness. Children played together in rock pools below while out to sea, boats bobbed up and down on the surf, the men and women on board struggling to get wriggling nets out of the water. "Why am I not in pain?" she said, indicating her flesh that was still bruised to a considerable extent – though she could see in both eyes now, so the bruising had gone away to some degree. "I learned about how to make it in another village," he said, smiling. "I make it from the bark of the willow tree. It kills pain. The other people around here are quite taken with it – they've set me up with a business making it from the trees that are growing about half a kilometre from here." "You're sure I'm not dreaming?" she asked. "I'm sure," he kissed her tenderly. * But it did feel as though she was dreaming. Plucked so suddenly from the pit of despair, she was suddenly here, in the most beautiful place she had ever seen. It was hard to believe, but there was nothing to suppose she had gone insane or had passed onto the next life. As the sun was going down a fortnight after her miracle rescue, sinking in glorious colours over the distant blue horizon, a smile of immovable ecstasy crept across her healthy, beautiful face as she sat overlooking the bay. "What's that expression for – or need I ask?" Aithran came out from the cave and sat beside her on the soft grass. "Because I'm the luckiest person in the whole world," she said. "Oh really?" Aithran raised an eyebrow. "Well I've got news for you, girl." "What is it?" "You've just got even luckier," he grinned, "because little Danny has gone to sleep." He led her down to the beach, away from the numerous fires in front of neighbouring caves, towards a secluded little corner of their own. Just a metre or so up from the lapping surf, they stood in the soft sand, their lips joined while tongues danced, their hands struggling to pull clothes from their bodies. Naked on the shoreline, their hands explored their bodies, his fingers sweeping through her hair, over her firm little breasts, coaxing her trembling flesh and coaxing her stiff nipples as her fingers swept around his behind to cup his sac and grip his hard penis. They sank to the ground, Iona on her back, Aithran over her, plying her with kisses all over her body, taking her hard nipples into his hot mouth as she began to moan uncontrollably. Slowly, he sank down her stomach, spreading her legs to lick along her tender inner thighs towards her glistening vagina. He began very delicately, tentatively kissing along the very tops of her legs, and his hot breath stirred ecstatic sensations on her sensitive flesh. He brushed his face through her sprinkling of soft down and then traced his tongue down each of her outer pussy lips before slipping inside briefly to taste her concentrated nectar. She felt his hands slide up her thighs and then his fingers gently at her outer labia. Gently, he parted her succulent folds and then slowly licked down until his tongue was buried deep inside her, her pussy lips now pressing either side of his mouth and her burning clit pressing irresistibly against his nose. She was always amazed at how deep he could tongue her, and how his tongue really worked to absorb her emissions. No other man could do that to her. Her hot little clit was engulfed by his wet mouth, his tongue swirling around it to drive her wild as he coated two fingers in her juices and slid them inside her and continued to lightly suck her sensitive button in his mouth. She moaned and writhed under his wonderful mouth and was soon heading on that dizzy journey to a real explosion of sensation within her. The rising pitch of her moans, becoming almost screams as she released her feelings, showed him her path. At the final peak of her first orgasm, he withdrew his fingers and once more buried his tongue inside her vagina, and she came in rivulets into his mouth. Iona rolled over onto her front, and he mounted her, gasping as the sudden heat engulfed his erection. She sighed as she felt every corner of her orifice filled by him and he responded by kissing the back of her neck as he began to ride her, still with the taste of her arousal on his lips. He reached around to hold her breasts with his palms, her nipples pinched between his fingers. As her breathing and moaning grew in rate and pitch respectively, he reacted by increasing his own pace, his erect shaft squeezing into her from behind, loving every moment of the tight pussy doing its best to crush it with warmth and wetness. The two of them cried out together as his burning cock erupted inside her receptive pussy, and in that moment of intense bliss, Daniel was given a sister.