Dystopian Girls 6

by Rodzil LaBraun

  I completely understood what she was getting at. Did we want to be hermits, or heroes? Selfish or welcoming? Could anyone of us be content in the routine of just surviving in a small place. I had five women dedicated to me. But they were not simple women, not a single one of them. Would they be happy to farm, cook and give me pleasure when it was their turn? Not for long, I imagined. But trouble always found us way before we became bored. And that was kind of Riley's point. We should know what we want so we know how to react.

  "Let's sleep on this tonight," I told them. "We are safe and comfortable. Tomorrow we'll put together our game plan."

  "I wish Riley had her whiteboards," Bianka said. When she received dirty looks, she said, "I'm serious. She kept us focused."

  "I'll use paper," Riley stated. "It will be almost the same thing."

  "I'm tired," Alexa announced out of nowhere. "Who has first shift tonight on guard duty?"

  "Why?" Bianka asked her. She had a teasing look on her face. "Did you want me to cuddle you to sleep?"

  "Maybe?" Alexa answered with a wry smile.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

  Stella bathed thoroughly before coming to bed. At least as thoroughly as someone could do without running water. I sat in bed waiting patiently for her, thinking about how the night might go. She was a very special soul. Unselfish and dedicated. A flawless personality, really. And a very nicely toned sexy body to go with her timid character. Plus, that innocent schoolgirl face that draws me in like I’m under a spell.

  Initially, she had to be eased into sex with a helper. Then she became a bit more aggressive, not wanting to be outdone by the other wives. But at her heart, she was a delicate treasure. And I wanted to fully appreciate that.

  "Hello husband," she addressed me when she finally came into the master bedroom.

  "Hey sweet thing," I tried to respond appropriately. I saw that she was wearing a negligee top and matching panties. No doubt one of the girls gave it to her to wear tonight. She was not the type to search for such a thing during working hours. "What do you have in mind for tonight?"

  "Whatever you want, baby," she replied, but I could see that the banter was not coming naturally to her. There was no sense in pretending. She would be like the actress that fell on the floor while she was trying to be a super sexy call girl type.

  "Why don't you come have a seat so we can talk," I told her.

  She was determined to play her role, though. So, she strolled toward me with exaggerated hip movement that was almost comical. When she got to the bed she clumsily climbed on and straddled me.

  I had to laugh then. I couldn’t help it. "Stella, I don't want you to have to do things..."

  "But I'm your wife," she replied. "It's my turn. I need to make you happy."

  "I know," I answered. "And you make me happy every day just by being you."

  She gave me a look like I wasn't being serious. It was also possible that she was feeling like she was disappointing me.

  "You do, Stella. I love everything about you. And the things that you have done to become my wife and lover are very much appreciated. But honestly, I'd really like to know what you want to do tonight?"

  She looked at me like I was insane. "Make you happy," she replied softly as if it were a no brainer.

  "Give me a kiss," I told her. She was more than happy to do so. I slid my hands from her shoulders to her ass as we enjoyed a slow, passionate kiss.

  "I don't need an orgasm tonight," I told her. "I don't need to feel like your master. Instead, I want to be your best friend tonight."

  Stella gave me the most confused expression that I had ever seen in my life. Then she said, "I think I'm supposed to do what you just said that you don't need. I don't understand. Do you not find me attractive anymore?"

  "Oh, no no no," I answered. "I find you crazy attractive. But I also love you for who you are. And I want you to be comfortable to be yourself around me."

  "But I am..."

  "No, that's not what I'm talking about," I told her. "Here, lie beside me with your head on my shoulder as we talk."

  "Have I done something wrong?" Her body slumped and somehow looked less comfortable in her negligee.

  "No, not at all," I said with a smile. "You have done absolutely everything right. That is why I want to hold you tight tonight. And talk about you."

  "Me?"

  "Yes. Tell me honestly, how often did you think about sex today?"

  "Honestly?” she replied like maybe it was a trick question. She was honest by nature but didn’t want to mess up her opportunity to make me happy. “Not until I started getting ready for bed. It is my turn."

  "How demanding is your pussy right now?" I asked.

  "Is that a thing?" she asked with a quick glance to her loins.

  "Yes," I chuckled. "It is very much a thing. Does your vagina feel like it needs something inside it immediately?"

  Stella stared at me like I said something preposterous. With the awkward smile of a person much younger she said, "No, not really."

  "So, you are just focused on providing your wifely duties and giving me an orgasm. Is that right?"

  "Is that wrong?" she countered.

  "No, not in itself," I answered. "But I want more, Stella. Can you be more for me?"

  I decided to take a different tact. I couldn't make it about herself, because she was too damn unselfish. I had to act like it was a new level in pleasing me.

  "Yes," she said, those puppy dog eyes looking up at me. "I want to be more. I'm sorry that I am so confused."

  "You are doing fine, Stella. To be a complete wife you need to bind your heart to mine. You already know the things that I like. Penetrating your tight vagina with your legs in the air. Your mouth around me as you stroke my cock with a mission. You do a great job of pleasing me. And I want to do the same for you. And I don't mean bringing you to a climax. I mean touching you deep inside where no one has ever touched you before. Will you let me do that?"

  "Deep inside?" she asked, looking as confused as ever.

  "I want you to think back to the most restful night of sleep that you ever had."

  "Okay."

  "When was that?" I asked as I took her hands in mine to help build the stronger connection.

  "The night that I gave you a blowjob at that last house."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know," she answered. "I guess it is because I want to please you so much."

  Damn it. We weren't getting anywhere with this line of questioning.

  "I've said something wrong," she said then with a concerned look. "Let me go back and change my answer."

  "No, Stella," I told her. "You haven't said anything wrong. I was just hoping for something more."

  "I want to give you that something more. I just don't understand..."

  I took a deep breath and decided whether or not to give it one last attempt. She was waiting for me to do so.

  "When you were young, did you ever dream about getting married? Finding the perfect man?"

  "Sure." I could see by her expression that she beginning to catch on to where I was going with this. Or at least it was a line of questioning that made her more relaxed.

  "When you thought about lying in his arms, completely happy, what made you feel that way?"

  "The same things that you do..."

  "Damn it, Stella!"

  "What? I'm sorry," she flinched in fear and looked like she might start crying. Delicate, I reminded myself.

  I shook my head and wiped the angry expression from my face. She didn't deserve to be put through this. I was just wanting something that I couldn't have, apparently. That used to be a regular thing. Maybe I was getting spoiled with all these gorgeous women at my beck and call.

  "You are a good man," Stella whispered to me. "A very good man."

  "Thank you, Stella, but..."

  "May I talk please?" she asked, her tone much softer than would normally accompany that question. I nodded for her to continue. "That is why I want to pl
ease you. The five of us girls, well I guess we are all your wives now. We would stay together if something ever happened to you. Do you know why?"

  "No."

  "Because it is our love for you that ties us together. When Bianka, Ling and I first joined your clan it was for survival, and a chance at a happy life. We didn't know you that well back then, but we respected you. And we could clearly see how your followers felt about you. But things are much different now."

  "How so?" I asked, intrigued by her words. She was finally opening up her heart to me it seemed.

  "We are now bound to you, and each other. You are the core that we revolve around, but we are connected, too. Through you and for you."

  I waited for more. I was afraid to say anything that might change her train of thought. I needed to see where she was going with this.

  "If something ever happened to you, we would all be devastated, of course. The same way that you would be if you lost one of us. But we would never consider leaving the group after that. Not one of us. Because our love for you ties us together. When I look at Riley's face, I don't just see Riley. I see her as she is because of you. The same is true with the others, too. Even Bianka."

  "Really?"

  "Absolutely," she answered. "I have been fond of her for a while now. When she took to protecting me from the men in our old clan, I knew it was because she had a good heart. She didn't want anything in return. Sure, she had been confused a few times about her feelings for me, but you helped her work through those."

  "I did?"

  "The point is that Bianka, just like everyone else, is a better person since she fell in love with you. And we all want to remain the people that we have become. We would cling to each other long after you were gone for that reason. And to share our memories, too. We would never forget you, not even for a second."

  I wanted to say something, but I was getting too choked up. I could feel the stutter in my breath and the moisture building around my eyeballs. The vulnerable moment was appropriate in my mind, and there was no fear of sharing it with Stella, but I still fought against it.

  "So, that is what our relationship means to me. You are my everything, Mason. The reason I dig with my hands when I don't have the proper tool. The reason I risk a wild animal attack to get us the food that will more than sustain us. The reason that I am happy to share you with your other wives. Don't get me wrong. I want my turn and will continue to take it as long as I can. Because my special time with you is fuel for my soul. I love to see the look on your face when I have done my job well."

  "You mean my orgasm face?"

  "Yes," she chuckled. "But also when you are happy with other things that I have done. I know this isn't really the answer that you were looking for when you said you wanted to talk. But I'm afraid that it is the only answer that I have."

  "No," I said as I pulled her face to mine for a firm kiss. "This is exactly the answer that I was looking for. Words from your heart. And I will treasure them forever."

  I couldn't fight off my emotions during that last sentence. My voice quivered and tears escaped from the corners of my eyes. But she was crying, too. Even more than me.

  We held each other tight and reminisced about our moments together in the past. I always thought there were things that I would never share with other people for fear of reducing their view of me. But once I connected my soul to Stella's at this extremely deep level, I spilled out everything. How much I found her attractive when I first met her. The times that I fantasized about her in those early days. I even revealed to her the details of my sexual interlude with Jamila the ex-stripper. She asked and I felt no reason to hide anything from her.

  "Would you like me to give you a lap dance?" she asked seriously.

  "No, sweetie. I just want to hold you in my arms as we fall asleep. Is that okay?"

  "Yes," she answered with those puppy dog eyes looking up at me. "But I need to please you sexually on my next turn."

  We fell asleep happy, happier than maybe I had ever been in a single moment. We slept well, too. I could see sunlight creeping around the cardboard that had been taped up against the blinds when I woke up.

  Then I heard the knock at the front door. Not my bedroom door. The front door of our new home.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

  A strange woman stood directly in front of the main entrance to our house. She appeared to be in her forties. Her face looked wind burnt, like someone that walked a while outdoors in a winter storm. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth showed a different color of skin like they had been clenched during the bad weather onslaught. This last year of constant heat seemed to have no effect on correcting the damage.

  She was dressed in full length jeans and a buttoned-down blouse that looked nearly brand new. She had a scroll of paper in her hand. Not like some ancient scribe prepared on papyrus. Just a large sheet of rolled up card stock paper. Maybe it was a poster instead.

  There was a brown-haired man on her left with a stern look. He too wore jeans but had on a faded green Everclear t-shirt. In his right hand was a pistol, aimed to the ground, but his hand was twitching. I would say he probably wasn't more than thirty years old.

  On the other side of the lead woman was another female. She had long, red hair flowing like a doll, and dead eyes to match. If it weren't for the scattered freckles and occasional blemish on her skin, I might have thought her to be an android. She was completely calm and expressionless. She also had a pistol but was gripping it much more casually.

  Behind those three were two more women that I couldn't see clearly, but they appeared to be even older. Shorter too, as they had to bob their heads around to get a clear look at us.

  I had Riley on one side of me and Jada on the other. Both were armed but also had their weapons pointing down. I had full confidence in my deflection ability even at this close of range. Riley's speed burst would prevent at least one of them from getting a shot off if they tried.

  Alexa was directly behind me to let me know if I was being lied to or if we should expect violence. The cat-like Bianka went to the roof with a rifle and Stella watched the backyard for flanking intruders.

  "Welcome to the neighborhood," the main woman said to us. She had a voice like a southern diner owner that decided to be a trucker instead. Cordial but rough. When we didn't respond, she continued. "We are the Children of the Phoenix and we provide a neighborhood patrol to keep all of our residents safe. The five of us are the official welcoming party. There are others nearby in case you are offended by our offer, which we sincerely hope is not the case."

  I didn't bother to glance around behind her. She seemed impressed by that, or maybe weighing my confidence. Perhaps she deduced that I had reinforcements of my own.

  "This is an offer?" I asked.

  "No, not really," she smiled as she focused solely on me. "But we like to be nice and agreeable whenever we can. May we come in?"

  Huh, I would have thought they'd be more comfortable on the porch. Inside our house we could easily take them hostage or slit their throats without anyone else knowing about it. That told me that they were either well-armed, highly skilled, or powerful mutants. Though it was possible that they were simply oblivious to the danger that they were in.

  "You caught us unprepared," I tried to copy her flavor of hospitality. "I'm afraid we are not ready to receive guests. Let's continue this conversation where we stand. I'm assuming that you have more to say."

  "Yes, well," she responded with disappointment. "That's fine. I do have more to say. Am I to assume that you are interested in abiding by our easy-to-follow rules?"

  There was a barrier between us obviously. That was to be expected. This situation was a confrontation until one side extended an olive branch. Based primarily on her words, and no sign from Alexa that we were being deceived, I believed that we could quickly downgrade the situation to a diplomatic event.

  "Yes," I answered. "We would like to get along, if that is possible. These rules of yours are easy
to follow, are they?"

  "The rules are not mine," she replied as she unrolled the thick piece of paper. And sure enough, she held it up like a scroll. "These are from the Children of the Phoenix. I am Esther, by the way. May I ask your names?"

  "I am Mason." I didn’t bother to offer the names of the others. Neither did she. It was only us having this conversation, and I preferred to keep it that way.