Hope was by now getting used to how things worked in Paradise Falls. But that didn’t mean she had to like it or found it any less humiliating. Every night, she’d be kept naked in her cage. It was larger now, so at least there was that. But there was still no way to cover herself or shield her body from prying eyes.

And there were always prying eyes.

Sometimes, one of the bandits would have permission to open the cages. Rewarded for their loyalty or some other achievement with permission to enjoy themselves using the girls.

Hope was never in danger of that. She was one of Mistress’ personal girls. High quality. Off-limits. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have to look and listen. The chosen girls would be taken out of their cages, bent over and fucked, or made to pleasure their captors in every way that they could think of. The sound of their plight - the gasping moans, the groans of humiliated pleasure, the whining, desperate sounds of orgasmic submission - would fill the street and as much as she tried to look away, Hope would find herself unable to. Like a moth to the flame, drawn to look and to watch.

She hated it, and even more, she hated how her time here and how her training was gradually forcing her to want it. How it made her feel hot and tight. How the ringing sounds brought a wetness to her pussy that she couldn’t ignore.

Was she a bad person for this? Was she a monster?

No, no! It was all the training. It was the time spent with Mistress, it was the surging pleasure she’d felt, the association. It was all meant to bring down her walls. To break into the perfect little slave.

The problem was, it was working.

Hope fought hard. She was stubborn, defiant. Fiery and furious. Always had been. But Mistress had worked with slaves for long enough that she had dealt with girls just like her a dozen times or more. She knew exactly how to push, how to tease, how to draw out the training and make it so that as much as she resisted, Hope was invariably left twitching on the floor and begging for release.

Her face flushed, remembering how she had been made to submit again and again. How her own body had been turned against her. She’d begged, begged for Mistress to let her cum!

There had to be more. She had to be stronger.

But the problem was, she said that every time and every time, Mistress was able to break her again.

Hope was no fool. She knew what was happening. She was being conditioned. Her body was being used to warp her mind, like a prison of flesh which would be reshaped into the very image of willing submission. Just like Hope had now seen happen to so many other girls here.

She snarled, lashing out against the bars of her prison. They rang like a bell, and a burst of pain bloomed across the side of her hand.

She wouldn’t let it happen to her. She’d find some way out, use some trick, get clear of the town and…

Unbidden, her hand rose to the heavy, mechanical collar she was wearing. It was pre-war tech, primed to detonate upon receiving a signal or leaving the area. It was currently the only item of clothing that she was expected or allowed to have.

Even if she got out of the town, it would do nothing but ensure her own demise. The collar would go off. At this range, the explosion would be more than enough to kill her.

She sank to her knees, her back pressed against the bars of the cell. She looked out over the town; the spreading stain of crimson across the sky marked the coming dawn.

“I have to find my father.”

She clung to it like a talisman. Like an anchor. She had to find her father. She held to Project Purity. To the dream of reviving the Wasteland.

From water, there could come plants. Actual, lush, green plants. Not the scraggly, wild-eyed survivors that clung to life among the rolling dunes and rubble-strewn plains as they currently were. And with plants, there would come new animals, a new food chain. A new world.

And all of it rested on her. The weight was monumental. Crushing, even.

How could she let Paradise Falls hold her when she was the key to all of that?

Yet at the same time, all the grand ambitions in the world didn’t do anything about the collar around her neck.

She was trapped.

It would be dawn soon. Mistress always came for her at dawn. It was part of the system meant to break her down. She would be given no rest, no break. Each day, a new humiliation. She knew how it worked, but that didn’t mean she could do anything about it.

Anything besides endure, anyway.

Endure and plot.

This day, just as she had so many previous days, Hope resolved to keep her eyes open. To look for something, anything that she could use. Paradise Falls was a rarity in the Wastelands. A bandit community that was held to a kind of order. Enforced from the top down by Mistress and by her right-hand man, the grizzled bandit captain. It was a brutal, vicious order.

But an order nonetheless.

If she was to have any hope of escape, she had to find some way around it. But even as she considered this, Hope wondered just how many slaves had had this exact same thought in this exact same place? How had they all ended up?

Did she really think that out of all them, she would be the one to make it?

When the crimson morning began to fade to the dreary light of a new day, Mistress came for her again. She’d expected that, but what she hadn’t expected was that she wasn’t alone.

The bandit captain was with her. He moved with a swagger, his body was powerful, not muscular to an obscene level, but firm and toned. A lifetime of work had adorned him with a casual strength, as well as numerous scars. A pistol was holstered at his side.

Hope’s eyes flickered over him, noting a dozen details in an instant. It was the sort of survival skill you picked up in the Wasteland, but one thing in particular caught her eye. His left shoulder had been left bare. The skin there was new and pink. She recognised the signs of stimpack use.

It must have been a pretty bad wound for him to still be treating it gently after what was obviously a few days. Had someone decided to make a go at taking his position by force?

Mistress was dressed in revealing clothes. Her dark hair was drawn back, her eyes were full and hungry. Her dress was black, form-fitting. It shimmered as she walked, clinging to her body in a way that drew every eye. But where another woman might have been threatened by the attention, she delighted in it. She bathed in it, taking to the buzz and focus like a fish to water.

Not for the first time, Hope wondered what her story was. How had she ended up like this? And why was it that she seemed content to play the part both of mistress and slave?

“I hope you slept well, vault girl,” Mistress said, coming up to the side of her cage. As always, her gaze was sharp. Sweeping across Hope’s body with every sign of approval. A small smile tugged at her features.

“You’re looking good. A lack of clothes really does suit you, you know? I’m surprised they even let you leave the vault. A prize like you? You should have been collared and on your knees years ago.”

Hope said nothing. She knew better than to rise to comments like that by now. Mistress was always probing, seeking, trying to draw out a reaction.

“Nothing to say? Boring. Smart but boring. Now, let’s get started with our day. As you can see, I’ve brought a friend this time. He has a little issue that you can help him sort out.”

“You’re the one who wanted her involved,” the captain grumbled. “I’d have been happy just doing it myself.”

“I’m sure you would, but that’s because you lack imagination. Besides, it happened at a good time. Our dear little vault girl needed a partner to practise with, and who better than a slave who forgot her place?”

“Forgot her place?”

Absently, the captain’s hand went to the patch of pink skin across his shoulder. The pattern was consistent with a laser shot.

“I’d say she did a little bit more than that.”

“Well, whatever.” Mistress waved a hand. “If you got your way, she’d just be thrown to your men. I’m sure you’d have a great time with her… for a day or so. Then she’d be broken and we’d be out a slave. This way, we get some more use out of her first.”

“My way would be more fun.”

“For you. Fun for you. For me, I much prefer how things are going now and unfortunately for you, I’m the one who gets to decide.”

The captain gave a broad-shouldered shrug.

“You’re right there anyway. But you know my boys are going to complain about it.”

“We’ll double their caps for the month. I’m sure that’ll ease tempers.”

“You know? It very well might.”

“In the meantime,” Mistress’ eyes gleamed, settling on where Hope sat in her cage. “Let’s get back to our captive vault girl. Get on your knees for me.”

Falling to her knees for Mistress was always one of the hardest things she had to do. No matter how many times it happened, there was ever a part of Hope that raged at the humiliation and indignity. That wanted to shout, to resist, to try to escape.

But there was no choice. There was never a choice. Her legs buckled, humiliation surged along her spine. She knelt with her legs spread, exposing her pussy and placed her hands behind her back.

“Good girl,” Mistress said.

The words churned inside her, unleashing a kaleidoscope of feelings. Mistress reached for something at her side, and with a sinking heart, Hope recognised her leash.

They were going for another walk. Mistress liked walks.

She liked to show off what was hers.

The door to her cell was opened with a rusty screech. Mistress leaned forward, hooking the end of the leash about her metal collar and before she knew it, Hope was being led out into the street.

Once more, she was forced to crawl. Like an animal. Like a pet. Shame burned her face, even more so when the mercenary captain reached down and slapped her ass! She gave a yelp, her eyes pressing tightly closed against the violation.

But her pussy felt hot and wet. Oh god, was she getting wet from this? Could they see?

He gave a low chuckle.

“A well-trained slave, Mistress.”

“Of course. Don’t I always impress?”

“You never fail. She’ll fetch a high price.”

By now, Hope was being led down through the street. The crowd parted, she could feel people watching her. She and Mistress were the centre of attention. Murmurs flocked in their wake like bats. Hope’s body was hot, her muscles were taut. Tension filled her, anticipation and shame danced across her mind. She was being walked naked through a town! People could see her, they could see every part of her from her swinging breasts to the pink slit of her pussy.

How many people were eyeing her naked body right now?

How many of them were imagining what it would feel like to fuck her? To feel her pussy clamping around their cock, hear her desperate, yelping cries as they filled her squirming body right to the hilt?

The thought haunted her as she was dragged along. At first, she thought she was being taken to the usual training area where new slaves were broken in. That was where Mistress often led her in the mornings. But they took a turn she didn’t recognise. Next, she thought they might be going to the private prison that she had been shown before, but this also proved not to be true. She was led to a section of the town she didn’t know, a place she had never been.

“She would fetch such a price, yes,” Mistress said. “If I decided to sell her.”

“You’re not going to?” The man gave her a mild look. “That’s not like you. You ain’t the sort to put feelings over profits.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing. An innocent vault girl like this would fetch a high price, but what are caps worth really? We’re drowning in the things. Far more rare is a slave of this quality. For now, I much rather have her. Maybe I’ll get bored and sell her on eventually, but at the moment she’s of more use as a toy than as an entry in a ledger.”

“I suppose you do have a point there. You know how many of my men want to fuck her? Every day, you have her out walking, teasing them all. If she wasn’t so important, she’d spend every night on her knees.”

Crawling along the ground as two people discussed her like she was just an object, like she didn’t matter at all but for her body. Was this really what her life had come to? Trembling, torn between true resistance and false submission, Hope was brought to a small building on the far edge of town. It was old, pre-war. The walls were thick, though scoured with time. The paint had crumbled away, revealing ancient brickwork and a squat, solid construction which had endured the ages.

There were two guards by the front door. Even degraded, humiliated and enslaved, a survivor was still a survivor. Hope took their measure in an instant and reluctantly concluded that they were a cut above the guards in the rest of town.

One of them nodded to the approaching group.

“Mistress.”

He turned to the captain.

“Boss.”

“We’re here to see the prisoner. Nobody caused any trouble while we were away?”

“Do you see a corpse lying on the ground?”

The captain loosed a barking laugh. It was unlike him. Usually, he was taciturn, grim, but silent. Just as much as Mistress did, he had a reputation. But with these two, he seemed almost at ease.

They were old, Hope realised. Both of them are in their late thirties. Their hair was streaked with grey. One thing she’d learned quickly on her Wasteland journey was that you could have dumb bandits or that you could have old bandits.

But natural selection didn’t allow old, dumb bandits.

“Just wanted to check,” the captain said. “We’re going in to have a little talk with her. You guys know what you’re supposed to do?”

“Stay exactly where we are and keep doing what we’ve been doing all day?”

“Damn right. And if you don’t fuck it up, we’ll give you a little gift later. How about free pick from some of the girls for a week once this is sorted? You know I take care of my own.”

“That you do, boss. It’s the reason we’re still here working with you in the first place. And why you ain’t dead in a ditch somewhere.”

The mercenary captain chuckled, moving past the guards and gesturing for Hope and Mistress to follow. Mistress seemed less than impressed, and as the door swung shut behind them, she spoke.

“Not the most disciplined I’ve ever seen.”

“They’ve lived too long to be disciplined,” the captain said. “You survive everything the Wasteland has to throw at you for most of your life and you’ll find you stop giving a shit sooner or later too.”

“They talk back.”

“They do. I put up with it. You’ve not seen them fight. Believe me, it’s a sight. Lifted my ass out of the fire a few times, I can tell you that.”

“They’re loyal then?”

“Extremely. Been with me since before I was even the boss. Either of ‘em could have made a play for their own band at any point. They decided to stick with me. You won’t find better.”

“Well, it’s your choice. Just don’t be surprised if one of them shoots you in the back one day.”

“Hey, part of the job. If it does happen, I’d damn well hope it’d be one of them and not some wet behind-the-ears newbie who happened to get in a lucky shot. If it does, you’re giving ‘em my job, right?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then it’s as it should be.”

Mistress shook her head, a small smile played at the corners of her lips.

“You’re an odd man, you know that?”

“I’ve only been told a thousand times.”

The building had been a clinic back before the war. Lights burned dimly, hanging in gloomy strips from the roof. In the corner, an old auto-doc gathered dust. Who knew how long it had been since it had been active? There were faded medical posters on the wall. Diagnoses and illnesses that had been reduced by time to unrecognisable scribbles.

Stepping from the entrance to the main area, Hope began to hear a new sound. A very familiar sound. The cries of a woman in bondage, and soon she saw exactly who it was coming from.

The centre of the old, dusty room was dominated by a heavy-set medical bed. At some point, someone had clearly started to have Ideas. Metal cuffs had been connected to the solid frame via a series of steel wires which could be loosened or tightened. If loose, the occupant of the bed could sleep in almost any position but if tight, they would be forced to lay with their arms and legs spread, with no hope of covering themselves or protecting their dignity.

The woman on the bed was exposed. The cuffs had been tightened, her arms and legs pulled as far apart as they could go. She rocked, her eyes closed against the violation which reverberated through her body. From this position, her pussy was totally open. Her labia were sparkling with wetness, her engorged clit peered from under its hood. A vibrating wand had been strapped to the bed, pressed right against her mound and left on a low setting.

She writhed in a rictus of pleasure. Soft, desperate squeaks echoed from her throat. Hope didn’t know who she was. She didn’t look like any of the other girls. Was she new? She was about twenty, with brown hair, cut short. She had blue eyes and a face which would usually have been pretty if it wasn’t currently twisted in a picture of humiliation and reluctant pleasure.

“Now, vault girl,” Mistress spoke. “So far your training has gone well. You were a little reluctant at first, but I think I got through to you with your last punishment. You’ve been very…responsive…so now it’s time to move to the next level. This slave here? Well, she did something a bit bad. She tried to escape. Not only that, but she stole a gun and tried to shoot her way out. In the process, she injured some of my men. Even gave the captain here a run for his money.”

“She got the drop on me,” the captain said. “And as soon as I knew she was there, I took her down.”

“I’m sure,” Mistress spoke. “Anyway, vault girl, this is where you come in. So far, you’ve only really played with men, haven’t you?”

Hope’s heart froze. She knew now why she had been brought here like this, but like a child being told off for doing something wrong, she did her best to avoid it.

“M-Mistress,” she said.”I don’t like girls. I’m not like that.”

Mistress seemed to find her answer amusing.

“You think that all slaves are naturally bi? Don’t worry, my little pet. We have training to take care of that.”

Her smile faded, just for an instant. Hope saw the shadow of something else on her face. Here and then gone in a flash. But before she could question it, the old Mistress returned.

“This minx caused us some trouble,” she explained. “So she’s going to be your dummy. Today, you’re going to learn how to pleasure a woman.”

Her lips twisted into a little smirk.

“Or else.”

Hope didn’t need to ask just what that ‘’or else’’ might be. She knew well enough all of the things Mistress could do. She looked down, seeing the sprawling, moaning form of the girl on the bed.

How did you pleasure a woman? It wasn’t something she had ever really considered! She was straight! She’d never thought she’d have to touch another girl!

But here she was. Face burning with shame, eyeing another woman. A girl who didn’t even know she was there.

And she’d been told to make her cum.

She moved forward, her legs trembled. She felt awkward, alien. The only things she could think to do were the things she liked herself.

Her face burned with that, the realisation that she was betraying something so deep and intimate struck deep. She didn’t want to do it. The idea of playing with another girl like this at all was totally new to her! It felt strange and cold, but she could feel Mistress’ eyes on her, and the lazy grin of the merc captain as well.

Did she dare refuse?

If she did, would she gain anything from it?

The answer to both was the same.

The woman squirmed at Hope’s probing touch. How long had she been here, at the mercy of the toy? Her skin was hot, almost feverish. Beaded with sweat. Her chest rose and fell in quick, greedy gasps.

At the feeling of Hope’s hands, her eyes snapped open.

“N-no,” she gasped, “I don’t wanna cum. I don’t wanna let them win.”

“As you can see, she’s stubborn,” Mistress said. “But it will be a good lesson for you, vault girl. If you can make a slave cum when she’s trying to fight it, you should easily be able to pleasure a female owner.”

The other slave shot her a pleading look. Hope wished she could do anything but comply with Mistress’ orders, but something burned deep inside of her. Hot and feverish, her fingers traced across the woman's body, feeling her shaking, noting the shivers of barely suppressed ecstasy which rolled across her skin like waves across the ocean.

Her pussy was so wet. She must have been edged by the toy for hours!

Hope leaned down. The air caught in her throat. Her hands moved clumsily, kneading and teasing her breasts. The reaction was as instant as it was powerful. The woman’s spine arched, she loosed a long echoing cry, her hands bunched into fists.

“Looks like you’re a natural, vault girl.”

Hope hated it. She hated how degraded it made her feel, pleasuring another woman while her owner cheered her on. The helpless captivity of the other slave seemed to reinforce exactly how powerless she was too.

Hope’s fingers traced an aching pattern across the other woman’s body. She didn’t know what she was doing, but after so long held on the very edge by the toy, kept from cumming only by her own will, that didn’t seem to matter. The other slave shivered. She moaned, her body stretched, her skin felt hot. There was a small puddle of dampness gathering between her legs and Hope couldn’t look away.

She was resisting, fighting, but at the same time, her body wanted it so, so, much. Hope could sympathise. In some ways, it seemed like she was looking at a mirror. A cold voice in the back of her head told her that this was her own future as well. Her body trained, refined, shaped into the perfect, obedient little slave. Her mind shackled by training and desire.

This was what she would become if she couldn’t find a way out.

Even as she thought this, Hope heard the creak of a floorboard. Mistress stepped up behind her, reaching around her back to fondle her breasts. Mistress’ fingers plucked at her nipples, making her body shake and her heart pound fast. A moan slipped from her throat before she could stop it. Tingling spirals of pleasure danced across her body.

“This is how it goes,” Mistress leaned over her, the hot air of her breath dancing across the side of Hope’s neck. Spasms raced through her body.

“This is how you train a slave to like girls. You pleasure her and you feel pleasure in turn. Soon, the two become one and the same. You want to feel good, my little slut? You know how to do it. Move lower.”

Hope shook her head, silently trembling. She knew what Mistress wanted, so far she’d played with the other slave’s chest, but her pussy gleamed, wet and inviting. She knew what was expected of her, but that didn’t make it any easier!

“If you touch her there,” Mistress purred,” I’ll touch you.”

Spasms of heat whipped through her body. She didn’t want this! She didn’t! She was straight! She didn’t like to play with other girls, and even if Mistress’ touches were sending rippling waves of throbbing pleasure dancing through her body, she refused to let it defeat her. She refused to let herself become the captive plaything that Mistress wanted her to be.

But it was hard. It was so, so hard. Unlike Hope with her clumsy touches and ministrations, Mistress knew exactly how to touch a girl. She was soft and delicate, yet direct and relentless. Her fingers played Hope’s body like an instrument, building her pleasure in waves. Teasing her, denying her. With alternating waves of boiling want and aching coldness, she brought Hope right to the edge again and again. But never let her go over it.

With one hand, Mistress played with her hardened nipples, the other dipped lower. Fingers stirring Hope’s soaking folds. The slightest brush against her clit filled her body with lightning!

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Mistress purred in her ear. “Feels amazing what another girl can do. Guys are fun, but they just don’t have the experience. They don’t have the personal insight that I do. Oh, little vault girl, I can make you sing for me.”

The pleasure broiled in her mind, battered against her thoughts. It electrified her, lifted her up and scattered her resistance like a darting shoal of fish fleeing from a predator in all directions.

Hope tried to fight back, she clung to who she was. She fought viciously against the treason of her own body. But her legs were shaking. Her pussy was so wet! Mistress’ fingers were entering her now, splaying her labia, pressing inside of her. Fucking her. Her hips bucked, she bounced on the soles of her feet, the feeling of penetration shamefully good.

No other girl had ever touched her like this before. She felt ashamed. Humiliated. Utterly and completely degraded.

Yet she couldn’t stop. And as if in mirror image of what was happening to her, Hope’s own hands traced lower. The other slave squirmed. Her vulva was exposed, Hope’s fingers brushed the sensitive skin there, making her gasp. Wetness seeped from her lower lips.

“No…” The other slave begged. “I don’t wanna cum, please don’t make me cum…”

Her pleas were like a dagger to the soul. Hope wished she could turn away, she wished she could do as she was being asked. But Mistress was there. Her touch filled her mind, her presence was hot and immediate, reminding Hope of exactly how much power she actually had.

None at all.

Hope touched her then. The first time she’d ever touched another woman like this. Hope’s fingers darted, rubbing her slit with a gentle motion. The brown-haired slave recoiled, her muscles growing taut. The motion against her entrance made her whimper in helpless arousal. Hope could only imagine the pulsing need in her pussy, the throbbing heat and want that burned within her.

It was a feeling she was sharing at the moment.

Mistress’ fingers danced and played across her flesh. God, her body was aching. Her clit felt tight and hot, a burning point of absolute desire which dominated her thoughts.

Through the haze of feverish lust that bombarded her mind, Hope spotted that the other woman’s clit was swollen and aching. Without even thinking, she moved forward, her finger traced the outline, watching the slave writhe, her fists balled. She spasmed, the thrumming toy was still placed against her pussy, and now Hope was gently caressing her clitoris. It was all too much for her and she gave a despairing cry. Convulsions began to run through her, starting weak and growing stronger. Her muscles spasmed, the orgasm building inside of her.

Hope found that she could barely think straight. Her body was swamped with heat, her mind was ablaze with lust. The slave below her was so helpless in her grasp, and yet she herself was but a toy for Mistress. The other woman’s fingers peeled back her labia, thrusting into her pussy and filling her. Two fingers, three. Their furious pumping motion came to dominate Hope’s world.

Resistance was futile. She had always known it on some level but now she couldn’t fool herself even a little. There was no easy escape from this life. She couldn’t just fight her way out. That was what the slave below her had tried.

Was she to surrender? Become just another willing toy?

Yes, screamed the pleasure, the moment, the rising ecstasy which danced between her nerves. She should surrender! She should accept her place, know that this was her life now!

All she had to do was stop fighting.

As if spurred on by this very thought, Hope felt a pressure against the base of her spine. Mistress forced her to bed, and Hope half collapsed on top of the brown-haired slave.

“Kiss her,” Mistress said. “Kiss her as if your life depends on it.”

Hope recoiled. Somehow, even after everything that she had already done, kissing her just felt like too much! But heat rose through her body, and she knew she had come too far to rebel now. She leaned forward, catching the other woman’s mouth with her own.

Her other hand sneaked down, playing with her soaking pussy. Summoning spiking, roaring waves of pleasure which crashed against her feeble resistance. She’d cum once already, but there was still fight in her.

Hope wondered if she would be able to make her cum again.

Their kiss was shallow and awkward. Neither of them wanted it, but Mistress was determined not to leave it just at that.

“Deeper. Kiss her like you mean it, vault girl.”

Mistress’ fingers darted, rubbing, teasing, playing with her pussy. They enveloped her in a crackling aura, a cocoon of pleasure which drowned out any thought of rebellion.

How could another woman be making her feel this good?

How could anyone be making her feel this good?

There was no mercy. No respite. Hope endured twisting waves of pleasure which danced and screamed between her nerves. Mistress’ fingers brushed her and explored her, using her new position to penetrate her more deeply. Sparks of heat flashed through her body, leaving her quivering, gasping, her body so hot.

The kiss deepened, Hope’s tongue locked around the other girl’s. Their bodies pressed together, an image of submission and surrender.

Mistress was moving fast now. Her fingers pumping in and out like a piston, fucking her roughly. Making her insides churn. Pleasure bloomed between her legs, hot and white and so intense. Greedily, the walls of her pussy clamped down upon Mistress’ hand. Mistress’ fingers became her whole world, each motion seeding little bursts of pleasure which bloomed through her body.

Her hips bucked, grinding desperately, shamelessly,

She was so wet.

How was she so wet?

“Do you see, vault girl? This is how it goes. This is how you train a slave to play with girls. You show them pleasure. You make them feel good. You burn it into them that a good little slave fucks anyone she’s told.”

She counterpointed her words with deeper thrusts, the friction was sadistically delightful, and it made Hope’s body twitch. Her back arched, her mouth opened in a long, silent cry. The slave girl below her witnessed the mortified expression on her face as the orgasm built, grinding into a crescendo which she could not resist.

Hope came. The explosion rippled through her, stealing away her pride, her dignity, her very breath, The feeling spiked through her, it clawed across her nerves, danced like a crackling storm across her mind. Her face paled, her eyes pressed closed.

Her pussy tightened around Mistress’ fingers, their piston-like movements refusing to stop even as Hope squirmed and gasped. The pleasure was relentless, unceasing.

Eventually, it was all too much. The strength left her body in one explosive burst, the climax rocked her from head to foot, convulsions danced along her limbs. She slumped forward, utterly spent.

Mistress’ mouth pulled into a grin, her fingers were soaked with Hope’s wetness and as the red-headed slave watched, she raised them to her mouth and ran her tongue along them.

“You taste good, vault girl,” Mistress purred. Her voice was low, tinged with sadistic delight. “You taste like someone who’s not going anywhere for a long, long time.”

The mercenary captain laughed at that. Hope’s gaze snapped to him. She’d forgotten all about his presence, but from the erection pushing at the inside of his pants, he’d enjoyed the show.

“Like what you see?”

Mistress shot him a cocky look.

“Watching you work is always a joy,” he chuckled. “I’ve not had the chance since you broke those twins. I admit, I missed it.”

“Well,” Mistress said. “I don’t have time to work on all of the slaves nowadays. But for special cases, I like to make exceptions.”

“And I’m glad for it. It’s always such a sight.”

He moved forward then, his hands trailed across Hope’s body. They curled about her breasts, brushing her hardened nipples and drawing a shuddering gasp from her throat.

“You mind if I have some fun of my own?” He tilted his head towards Mistress, an obvious eagerness filled his voice. Hope didn’t have to wonder exactly what sort of fun he had in mind.

“Well now, that would be a bit against the point of things, wouldn’t it?” Mistress said. A grin played across her face. This was familiar ground. “We’re trying to teach the vault girl how to pleasure other women. Last I checked, you’re very much not one of those.”

“Not unless the definition was changed when I wasn’t looking, anyway,” he laughed. “But I’m sure you could make it a learning opportunity. I have faith in you.”

“How foolish.” Nevertheless, a grin played across Mistress’ face. “I bet we could come up with something.”

He began to strip off his clothes. His body was lean and muscular. Powerfully built and honed through years of survival. Though, a scar here and there showed that such survival had not always been an easy thing. His shoulders were squared, his face was handsome, but his eyes were cold.

Excluding that last part, it was what Hope usually liked to see in a man. Despite everything that had happened, she felt part of herself responding to the sight. Especially as the last of his clothes fell away and her eyes were drawn to his throbbing cock. It was hard and stiff. He’d already watched Mistress play with her and enjoyed the sight of her pleasuring the other woman.

Hope’s eyes fixed on his cock. She tried to look away, but couldn't. It was like he had some strange sort of gravity. Like she couldn’t turn her head. She imagined what it would feel like inside of her. Filling her up, making her shake and moan with every thrust and every motion. Her insides burned, a giddy and shameful anticipation filled her until she forced it down and locked it away.

She refused to let them beat her like this. Not so easily.

“On your stomach,” Mistress barked at Hope. “Legs spread.”

Her tone brooked no argument. The slave girl below her grunted and shuddered as Hope was forced to obey.

Face down, she could only stare at her reluctant partner, their breasts pressed together. She felt the other woman’s nipples against her chest. A shameful heat coiled between her legs. Her vulva brushed against that of the brown haired slave. It was an intimate point of contact which sent tingles racing through them both.

The captain was next to her now, leaning across the bed. His rough hands closed against the smooth skin of her legs, forcing them apart. Hope whimpered, but knew better than to resist with Mistress there and watching. Next, she felt something hard pressing against her lower entrance. His cock was hot, warm and eager to the touch. Her mind swam.

Was this really about to happen?

It was. He thrust forward, his cock entered her, forcing her lower lips aside. The explosion of sensation stabbed at her mind, her pussy was still sensitive from before and this was almost too much!

Of course, that only made it feel all the better for the mercenary captain. Gradually, he forced himself into her. Hope felt herself spread wide. He was so big! She bucked and wriggled, biting her lower lip in a fusion of pain and pleasure.

Her frantic writhing only seemed to arouse the woman beneath her. The vibrating wand was still in place, and she was half lost to the pleasure of it. The soft buzzing was a constant backdrop to the scene. She’d cum once, but now she seemed on the verge of a second orgasm.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the captain seemed to have fit himself inside of her. His cock was hard, throbbing between her legs. Her breath was short and sharp. Hope whimpered, the surge of sensation almost too much.

“Look at your partner,” Mistress said. “Look her in the eyes as you’re fucked. Know that this is your place now. Know that this is the life of a slave.”

Hope did as she was told, holding on to that inner core of defiance. To the resolve that this wasn’t the end. She had to submit for now, but as long as she didn’t surrender, it wasn’t over.

She just had to hold on.

But oh, that was easier said than done! His hands closed about her hips, bracing against them as he began to move. His cock thrust, filling her body with crackling ecstasy. His motion was sure; confident and powerful, he took her breath away with every pounding penetration.

The captain wasn’t a gentle lover. He was urgent, demanding. He filled her up, penetrating her as deeply as he could with each and every thrust. Her world hazed red with arousal, her breathing hitched in her throat. She was squeaking, squirming, gasping. Her pussy clenched about his cock, her inner walls hugged him, her mind blazed and her body screamed for more.

“So eager. So wanting. No wonder Mistress keeps you all to herself. My men would love to have you just for a night!”

To counterpoint his words, he broke into a new rhythm. He moved faster, fucked her harder. Gave her not even a single moment to collect her thoughts. Hope yelped, the image he painted haunted her mind. The idea of being used, of being passed around from man to man. Made to entertain the guards all night!

“Look to your partner!”

Mistress reached over, forcing Hope to look down at the other woman. Her body bucked and writhed, the man’s cock filled her up, rippling waves of pleasure raced through her. Her skin felt so hot, the intimate closeness of the other women was intoxicating. She wasn’t into girls, she really wasn’t. But the feeling of pleasure that overwhelmed her was confusing her senses. Breaking her barriers down.

It was just as Mistress had said. She could understand now why weeks or months of this could change someone forever. This was her first time and already, she felt as if she was melting away!

Hope whimpered. Heat and pleasure broiled through her in frantic, dancing motions. The captain’s thrusts filled her world, the feeling of his cock as it penetrated her surged through her mind. Swirling patterns of ecstasy traced her thoughts. Her body was moving, pressing back against him. Her hips grinding against the hard shaft of his cock. Her pussy was eager, enveloping it, holding it so tight.

How could this be happening? How could she be the same person who had set out from the vault not even that long ago? She felt like a totally different woman. Would that Hope ever even dream she’d end up like this?

Fucked by a bandit captain on top of another woman!

Her pussy clenched. She was so wet, the sound of meaty thrusts filled the small room. Her yelping moans signposted her utter degradation and humiliation.

Hope’s body churned. The waves of pleasure cracked against her mind like a rad-storm against a building. It boiled and flushed and threatened to overflow, to steal away her resistance. Desperately, she clung on, holding to what she knew.

The explosion came next. The climax detonated like a bomb inside of her. It blew through her defences, filling her up and leaving her nowhere to escape. Hope gave a squeal, her whole body clenched at once! The other woman twisted beneath her, responding to her arousal with a climax of her own. They came together, just as Mistress had expected that they would.

Hope’s world flashed. The climax roared to a searing peak. As it passed, she moaned in utter defeat, slumping down against the second slave. The captain pulled out of her with a satisfied grunt.

“You were right,” he said with a casual tilt of his head towards Mistress. “She’s a high-quality girl. With a bit of training, she’ll be worth her weight in caps.”

“If I decide to sell her,” Mistress said again.

“If,” he agreed, a grin spreading across his face. “I can see why you wouldn’t.”

His hand lashed out again, delivering a solid smack to Hope’s ass which left a stinging, red mark.

“I can’t wait to see what you’re going to do with her next.”