Magna pulled out of her and picked her up by the waist as he lay down next to her. Alexis kept her back to him as she lowered herself onto his cock. Without the sight of his muscled body to fill her eyes Alexis found her mind wandering once more while she lifted herself up and down on the thick pillar between his legs. Though she had only been fourteen when she’d been recruited into the human resistance, Alexis had been a hardened survivor. She had lived in the ruins of Chicago since the tender age of nine, and in her five years as a street urchin she had seen a great deal of war and suffering. When the Serpent King had revealed himself to the world, MacArthur had told her the truth about him in order to combat the lies of the Complex controlled media. Cava-Rek had been a petty Izrid warlord, just like the rest of the alien scum that had invaded the planet during our greatest moment of weakness. According to Fiona the warlord had established power by running horrific genetic experiments upon captured human beings, yielding the hybrid abominations that had once been brave fighters like Lysa and Morgan. After MacArthur had destroyed his laboratories and his makeshift brothel for other magisters the warlord had disappeared. They had thought him defeated, until he re-appeared in the guise of the Serpent King. Before him marched countless legions of Izrid warriors, more than any single war hive could possibly muster. The heads of other magisters who had refused his rule adorned his glittering throne, and he established himself as the new ruler of this remote blue planet.
Alexis shuddered with the pleasant impact as she slammed down again and again on Magna’s incredible cock. For a man pushing forty years of age he could fuck like a teenager, she found herself musing, for a short time all thoughts of Izrid and war history lost in the crashing waves of pleasure as the powerful freedom-fighter easily used his hands to pump the young woman up and down on his manhood. There were advantages it seemed, she thought amusingly, to being so much larger and stronger than the woman he was fucking. She was no more than attractive meat in his mighty hands, as he lifted her by the waist and positioned her on the edge of their cot. She used her arms to push herself upright and found herself facing the dim sunlight that poured in from the broken window that served as the only natural light in their meager dwelling.
Magna gripped her waist so tightly as he pounded her from behind that Alexis was positive she’d develop bruises, and that aroused her even more. Let his fingers leave more marks upon her body, she thought, they would go well with the patchwork of scars that adorned her small frame. She had been living hard since she was a child, and fighting the good fight against the Izrid for years now. For a woman of only nineteen she bore nearly as many scars as MacArthur. Alexis thought then of MacArthur, even as Magna rammed himself into her over and over. The leader of the resistance was an enigmatic woman, and was in her mid-forties as far as Alexis knew. The young woman was not a lesbian, nor did she even identify as bi-sexual, though after four years of serving as MacArthur’s personal aide and confidant, Alexis had been there for Fiona on one particularly dark day. It had been a particularly brutal day to be a human being. The phage outbreaks had begun, and Alexis had been helping coordinate resistance evacuations from the hot zones even as they were forced to leave the civilians to die.
“This abandonment makes us no better than the Izrid or their Complex allies,” Fiona had said as she watched the hacked security screens with a detached demeanor, and yet the quality of her voice had been awfully vulnerable when she added, “Today is a hard day to be a warrior, sometimes I wonder if we should have just laid down arms. It would have been so easy to submit.”
Alexis had slid her arms around MacArthur’s waist and hugged her. She had intended it as perfectly platonic, though the older woman seemed to have been ignited by the touch. Fiona had turned around and returned the young girl’s hug with equal force and tenderness. They had stood like that for several moments until Fiona had pulled away, then, to the young woman’s surprise, the master of the resistance planted a deep kiss upon her lips. Alexis had not known what to do, other than to kiss the older woman back. The greatest champion of humanity had seemingly melted into her arms, and Fiona had continued kissing her, probing the younger woman’s mouth with her tongue as the kiss took a turn for the sexually charged. The two women continued kissing, and before she knew it Alexis had sunk to her knees and begun clawing at MacArthur’s pants, desperate to help her leader feel something other than the deep sorrow that threatened to consume her. The older woman had not stopped her until Alexis was well into lapping at Fiona’s throbbing clit, and then as suddenly as it had started it stopped. MacArthur seemed to gather her wits and pushed herself backwards as she pulled the young girl’s hair to get her head away from her pussy. Fiona had apologized for her complacency in the young woman’s advances, and said that she could not, that there was someone else, though everyone knew Fiona had taken no lover since her ex-boyfriend Cole had been killed in action. Alexis had actually breathed a sigh of relief, as she was more caught up on the moment than she was genuinely attracted to her leader. Such was her realization of her true dedication to the cause.
Her thoughts of Fiona MacArthur were shaken from her mind as Magna gripped a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back so that she was fully facing the rising sun. They had hit the enemy hard, and taken no prisoners, human or Izrid. Both of them were feeling the thrill of victory and the rush of having survived the furious combat where so many others had not.
“I wish we could make babies together Alexis,” Magna growled as he pumped in and out of her at a furious pace, “I wish I could provide you that, like a real man, like it used to be.”
“All I know is this,” she moaned as her muscles strained to hold her upright against the continuous impact of his rigid member as it plowed into her tight pussy, “So fill me up old man, I’d rather die pregnant than empty.”
Magna roared with pleasure and began pumping his hot load deep inside her body with such force and liquid volume that she could feel his hot seed flowing within her. Magna never came inside her, always concerned that he not get her pregnant, because to raise a child in such conditions, to him, was just as cruel as any of the back alley abortions that were common in the dystopian slums. He had always pulled out and sprayed his load on various parts of her body, depending on what sexual position they finished with. She loved it when he came on her, and enjoyed spreading it across her skin before pulling him bodily to her and holding him tightly as his spunk congealed between them. It had felt like a bond, and it was the best a resistance fighter could hope for, and yet, she found herself overwhelmingly aroused as he came inside her. There was trust, there was, dare she even think it, love. The thought of such a thing in this grim world pushed her over the edge and Alexis became to moan with the treble of her own body-thundering orgasm. She would never tell Magna that she loved him, she knew better than to call attention to it, even as she knew he felt the same. To name it would be to make it a target, a vulnerability in their collective armor, and no resistance fighter embarked on a mission without armor. Tomorrow would be their finest hour, and they both know it was likely their last. They held each other in the growing sunlight, and for the briefest of moments, they forgot about the resistance, the Izrid, and simply lay in the arms of a lover well satisfied.
ACT II
Alexis shivered and pulled her ragged jacket tighter around her body, silently willing herself to ignore the cold rain that pelted her from above. The allocation line wasn’t as long as it usually was today, though even in the freezing downpour there were easily sixty people standing and shivering in line behind her, another thirty or so in front. As the young woman looked around she noticed that she was one of the taller people in the line, despite only standing at five foot six, and that was when she realized that many of the people in line were children. Suddenly the compact machine gun strapped to her chest under the jacket felt heavier, and the grenades held firmly under her armpits seemed to grow colder as the resistance fighter began to process what she was seeing.
Th
e pale young woman looked over at the other line, equally as long, and caught the attention of the large man who stood roughly ten people back from her position. The bronze skinned man returned her gaze, and she looked at him questioningly. Magna returned her stare for a moment, and then turned his head. Alexis knew that he was looking for a signal from their allies elsewhere in line. The allocation depot was a fortified series of shipping containers, some from Earth and others of Izrid manufacture, all encircled in a triple series of wire-fenced walls. A small number of armed guards, all human, patrolled the inner perimeter while a stout checkpoint had been created at the southern most edge. Alexis laid her eyes on the checkpoint, and watched as a little boy approached the attendant of allocation. The attendant, also human, snatched the ration card out of the boy’s hand and ran a scanning device over it. When the scanner coded green he nodded silently at another attendant, who handed the boy a small box. The boy took the card as the attendant passed it back to him and hurried out of the way as another person jostled to approach and hand over their card. Alexis watched the little boy walk away with his box, clutching it to his chest as if afraid someone would try to steal it from him. Poor kid, she thought, nobody would try that in front of the guards, they’d wait to jump the kid in the streets well away from any possible reprise. Not that the guards cared about the kid, but more that disorder was not tolerated, and violence would answer any disruption of the allocation processing.
The line shuffled forward and Alexis scanned the crowd once more, doing her best to seem casual about it, and caught the large man’s gaze again. He met her eyes and shook his head grimly, and Alexis knew that there was no going back. They were committed to the task, and she should have known better than to think they would abandon their plans now. Inside that allocation holding area there were containers filled with food, water, and most importantly, medicine. Ever since the Complex Accord became the dominant authority on Earth the resistance movement had been all but driven to the fringes. After five years of bitter struggle against the Izrid it was their own species that had turned against them in the end. The Complex was a planet-wide alliance between the Izrid conquerors and the leaders of humanity. The Complex offered a new lease on life to those humans who would accept its authority, backed initially by the might of the Izrid army, then after a few short months the aliens were accompanied by the Complex sponsored human militias. They welcomed all those who were willing to obey, and as it turned out, that was just about everyone. Humanity was tired of fighting a losing war, and in the end it accepted servitude to the alien conquerors.
Alexis turned her head back to face the front of the line, and she did a swift tactical survey of the checkpoint. The resistance was tougher to root out than anyone imagined, thought Alexis, as she did her best to quiet the growing sense of unease in her stomach. Fiona MacArthur would never submit, and nor would most of the hardened fighters around the world. Those first few years were exceptionally bloody, as the resistance found itself fighting a war on two fronts, against both the Izrid shock troops and the growing human security forces. The resistance was demonized in the Complex controlled media, painted as intractable warmongers so consumed with xenophobia that they would rather continue to fight than accept peace under the rule of the Complex. Damn right, Alexis said under her breath as she gently shifted her weight from foot to foot and flexed her arms inside her jacket to keep her muscles limber for what was about to happen.
What had once been the patriotic military that fought to drive the invaders from Earth had been transformed, through politics and the careful manipulation of the civilian population, into rag-tag radial insurgents who were hated by the humans just as much as they were hunted by the Izrid. Alexis would never have joined up with the resistance had she never met Fiona MacArthur, who had become somewhat of a folk hero to those few humans who still wanted freedom, and a bogeyman to everyone else. Fiona had recruited Alexis when the young woman was but a girl, during those first bloody months of the Complex takeover. Cava-Rek, the Serpent King, had issued his Accords edict, and the Izrid armies had unified under his single banner to become a devastating global power. Alexis had been an orphan, her parents both having died years before during the initial invasion, and she’d been living as a street urchin since then. Unlike many of the orphaned children of this brutal conflict, she had chosen to remain in the urban war zone instead of fleeing to the wooded countryside along with the majority of the human survivors. The war zones were for resistance fighters and the Izrid, accordingly to common wisdom, though she’d always thought that was an exaggeration of the truth. Fiona had explained to her that yes, in fact there were many human survivors living in woodland communities the world over, though life in the wild was hard, and they were easily discovered by the Izrid. In the end, Fiona had said, the resistance should have been more focused on protecting survivors than it had been on waging war with the enemy. It was this fatal mistake that had led to the Accords. When Cava-Rek ascended to his throne there were tens of thousands of people living off the grid, and they’d been left alone for nearly five years as the Izrid focused on fighting the resistance. However, when Cava-Rek changed his focus from waging war to fully occupying Earth and building an empire of his own, that focus changed to the acquisition of the human population.
Ultimately the human race had little choice but to accept the Accords, Fiona had told Alexis and the other resistance fighters, for in those perilous times it was obedience or death. The resistance had chosen death, and the rest of humanity had chosen life. So it was of little surprise to Fiona that the resistance had been transformed into an insurgency. The once stalwart defenders of humanity were now thought of by their own people as terrorists and murderers. That was the price of freedom, thought Alexis as she looked around her at the grey souls who shuffled through the allocation line to get their daily ration of food, water, and medications. This was the future of the human race if she and people like her did not keep fighting, even if the very people they fought for saw them as enemies. Alexis had spent over half of her life in the shadow of the Izrid invasion. For her freedom was something of a myth, though she could still feel the yearning for it, somewhere deep she could sense its urgency smoldering like an ember. Fiona had seen that in her too, and over the last five years had fanned that ember into a firestorm. A beautiful young woman who was willing to put her body on the line, often her very life, to achieve the goals of the resistance was a powerful weapon against the enemy. Alexis was proud of who she was, and she was prepared to do what must be done. She visualized the fear in her guts as a small ball of dark energy, which she then visualized herself crushing with her own willpower. Yes, she could see that there were children in the line, and yes, she knew that some of them were likely to be injured if their plan didn’t go perfectly. There was a chance that some would be hurt or killed even if this mission was a success, if not on the frozen ground today then at the hands of the harsh reprisal detail that would be sent to this district not long after everything went down.
Alexis could see that she was only three people in line from the attendant of allocation, and knew that her time was about to come. She pushed back against her concern for the civilians crowding around her, and repeated Fiona’s mantra over and over in her mind. If they aren’t with us now, they will be against us until we liberate them. She said this to herself silently as the last person in front of her had been processed and the attendant looked at her expectantly, his hand held out and waiting for her ration card.
The attendant looked at the card she handed him and suddenly a wicked smile spread across his face. He looked up at her with recognition and his eyes glinted lecherously as he looked her up and down. Alexis did her best to give him a nervous smile back, knowing that Samuel Gibbons, the attendant of allocation, was a sucker for it. She had been getting her rations at this checkpoint for over a year now without incident, until three months ago when Samuel had been stationed there. She first noticed him when his hand caressed hers subtly as he too
k her card upon their first meeting. His eyes spoke volumes, and he made a little show of insisting that extra water and nutrient packets be added to her box. It had gone on like this for another few weeks, never much spoken between them, though his attraction to her was clear. It came as little surprise when, after a month of seeing her every third day on the ration line, he scanned her ration card and had stated that there was a problem with the card. He ordered his guard, one of the menacing Izrid and human hybrid soldiers that had become known as half-dragons, to escort her to the detainment pod.
She had known what was about to happen, and though she had mentally prepared for this eventuality, it was her first time using her beauty as a weapon. Her nervousness that day had been genuine, and that seemed to arouse Samuel all the more. He told her his full name when he entered the pod, and though his voice was calm and reassuring his body language and the bulge in his trousers told a more sinister story. He had asked her if she and her family had enjoyed all of the gifts he had taken care to include in her rations. She had dutifully told him yes, and she spun a lie about her mother and brother, knowing that it was what he wanted to hear. She thanked him profusely, and he waved it off, saying he only wished to give a pretty girl a gift, and then added that he too enjoyed gifts. By the time he said that Samuel had leaned in and put a hand on either side of the wall behind her head. He drew near expectantly, and Alexis knew she had to kiss him, knew that he was waiting for her to instigate contact on her own. She knew full well that he would try to rape her if she resisted, yet she had come here with every intention of resisting, though not in the way he perhaps imagined. She smiled at him, more seductively than he had expected, and instead of kissing him she ran her hand down his chest and stroked the bulge in his trousers.
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