"The Simple Life" (closed)

[TiredFingers]

This role play is being abandoned and rewritten in another way. Alice and I had a discussion last night, and we realized that we both wished the characters started at an earlier point in the rebuilding process, so that's what we're going to do. We will recycle some of our points, descriptions, characters; we will create new where appropriate.

"The Simple Life"

(closed)​

(OOC: Please excuse the context of Bill's photo. Just imagine him out of doors with a shirt on.)


Bill Dawson rose from his bent over position gardening to stretch his arms outward, working out the kinks in his back and shoulders. He would never have imagined that gardening could be such hard work. Of course, he'd never gardened two acres by hand before. After a long day of working the dirt in this way, Bill felt much older than his actual age of 44.

When does it stop being gardening and start being farming? he wondered.

The invasion and conquest of Earth by a race derogatorily referred to as the Toads had led to the abandonment of most electronic or mechanical technologies. Nicknamed for their reptilian appearance, the bi-pedal humanoid-like aliens had tens of thousands of unmanned, high flying drones that could detect such tech; they also had high flying bombers that would drop guided bombs right onto the heads of people found using such tech. If you were human and you weren't living in one of the Toad's labor camps, they really had no interest in seeing you breathing and breeding.

The result was that the surviving and still free population of the world had been bombed back into the stone age. The countryside and cities -- at least the ones not destroyed by even bigger, conventional weapons -- were pockmarked with small craters where people who'd taken a chance with their machines had been targeted.

The result for Bill and his 11 fellow residents of what was simply called the farm was that they were now farming 2 acres of vegetable gardens and another 4 acres of berry vines and both fruit and nut trees with little more than garden picks, shovels, hoes, rakes, and limb loppers.

They'd had a plow horse last year which had made the job so much easier. But late in the fall, just after harvest but before the post-harvest plowing, the Mitchell Militia came through and confiscated the horse for its own use in Bay City some 15 miles away.

As if the Gods were listening to Bill reminisce about the stolen horse, the farm's 12 year old hunting guru, John, came running out of the forest and down the weed choked dirt road toward the cabin hollering anxiously, "They're coming! They're coming! The Militia is coming!"

Without hesitation, Bill turned and hollered to the others, "Bunker, everyone. Now!"

All about the property, adults gathered children and headed for the cabin. Bill called to John as he neared, "How far behind you...? How much time do we have?[/I]"

"They're right behind me!" the boy said as he ran right past Bill without slowing. John had an assignment for when the Militia came, and he didn't need to stop to get directions from Bill to know what to do. He hollered back over his shoulder, "They got a wagon."

Bill grimaced at that news, knowing what it meant: the Militia's Commander, Major Mitchell, was coming to collect the farm's taxes … to steal their food and anything else that Mitchell coveted. Bill hurried to the cabin, checked that everyone had gotten safely down into the second, secret root cellar that also served as a security bunker, and went to the gun rack.

He took down the AK-47 and the Beretta 9mm pistol, then went out to stand on the porch and wait. It wasn't long before a single rider emerged from the woods and came to a stop, surveying the farm for dangers. After the man signaled, the rest of the Militia's Company A emerged from the woods. Riding up front were Major Mitchell and his Lieutenant, Gerald Conner, with whom Bill had been friends before the invasion; two pair of Militiamen riding side my side; a canvas covered wagon that reminded Bill of the Conestogas from America's 19th century; and finally three more pairs of Militiamen.

The Company rode right up to within a few yards of the cabin before stopping with the wagon directly in front of it. For easier pillaging, Bill thought. Mitchell dismounted, as did Conner and the rest of the men; the soldiers remained at their horses, but Mitchell and Conner walked up close to Bill.

"Greetings, Mister Dawson," Mitchell said formally. "Such a fine beautiful day, don't you think?"

Bill wanted to add for a raid but instead only agreed, "Yes, a fine beautiful day, Major."

"Come, walk with me," Mitchell said, turning and starting away from the cabin. When Bill didn't move, Mitchell said with a polite but firm tone, "Walk with me."

Mitchell glanced at the assault rifle, then back to Bill's eyes and said, "You can leave that behind. You won't need it."

Bill didn't know how to respond to that. The first time the Mitchell Militia had come to the farm there had been gunfire exchanged, not necessarily with deadly intent in mind but more for each side to ensure that the other knew pulling the trigger was a possibility.

He turned and set the rifle just inside the cabin, then looked to the Militiamen. Some were moving to the wagon and untying the back flaps. Bill knew they were about to empty the pantry that was known to Mitchell and take anything else they wanted; he knew that Mitchell didn't want him there while it was happening, to prevent a possible misunderstanding and potential violence.

"Tell me about your planting ideas for this year, Mister Dawson," Mitchell said once they were away from the cabin. He listened to Bill's tentative explanation, asking a couple of dozen follow up questions, a great deal of which were obviously intended to give Mitchell an idea of how much tax he would be getting this year. After what seemed like ten minutes of so, Mitchell suddenly apologized, "I'm sorry about taking your plow horse last year. I know that made things tough."

"Tough...?" Bill murmured. He wanted to describe just how tough things had been -- still were -- but instead he only said, "We could grow far more if we had her back."

"Yeah," Mitchell said with a hesitant tone, adding, "Yeah, that's not going to happen. Horses are too valuable these days."

Mitchell suddenly turned and headed them back toward the house. He began talking about how things were going down in Bay City -- the good, the bad, and the ugly -- as if Bill really cared about any of it. By the time they got back to the cabin, the wagon was loaded and the Militiamen were tying the wagon's tarp flaps back in place again.

"Listen, I'm truly sorry about the plow horse," Mitchell went on, his tone sounding very sincere. "Lieutenant Conner tells me that-- The two of you were friends before the invasion, correct?"

"Yes, Major," Bill answered. He'd been torn about his old friend since learning that Gerald had joined the militia that was robbing farms, villages, and towns all over the Central Coast for what was billed as protection but was little more than extortion. "We were in school together."

"Yes, so I was told," Mitchell went on, adding, "and I want you to know that it is your friendship with my Lieutenant that is the reason I give you and yours some leeway when it comes to security payments."

Bill wanted to remind Mitchell that losing the horse -- as well as some other valuable resources -- had been devastating for the little farm. But instead, he kept quiet and just waited for Mitchell to continue.

"I can't return the horse," the Major continued. He looked to his Lieutenant who gave him a nod for an unasked question. Mitchell looked back to Bill and finished, "But I can try to make up for it in another way. I left something inside for you. I think you might appreciate it."

Mitchell turned and mounted his horse. He glanced to Conner, who called the Company back into motion, and a moment later the last pair of men at the end were moving past and away from the little cabin. Bill watched them leave, gesturing inconspicuously for the John and Cooper to remain hidden in the woods for now with their rifles. Thankfully, Bill had never had to signal the two -- a 12 year old and a 22 year old -- to use their weapons against the Militia. Bill hoped never to do that; the three men might take down some of Mitchell's men, but they would all surely be killed in the process.

He backed toward the door without looking from the Company, then leaned a bit to see if his AK was still inside. It was, surprisingly. Mitchell had long coveted the Czech-made weapon, and Bill was sure that any day now, the Major was going to make it a mandatory part of the farm's tax payment.

While Bill was leaned over, he caught the shadow of someone moving inside the cabin. No one was supposed to be outside the second, secret root cellar/bunker yet. Bill surged inside, ready to chastise one of the residents for risking his or her life and possibly the lives of the others.

Instead, he froze and stared, open eyed and open mouth at a very beautiful and nearly naked young woman.

This is what you left me? Bill thought regarding Mitchell's gift of appreciation for the horse. He simply stared for a moment, unable to pull his eyes away, and suddenly found himself thinking with humor, Can she pull a plow?

###############

CLOSED​

 

[Alice2015]

Melanie couldn't believe that this was happening to her. It wasn't bad enough that aliens had blown the crap out of Earth and were continuing to kill humans anytime they started a car or turned on a light (not that there was any power to run lights in most places anymore). But now, as the human race faced extinction, humans were taking other humans hostage, turning them in slaves and in her case sex slaves!

As she stood in the little house in nothing more than a pair of lacy underwear that that creep called the Major had given her, Melanie tried to think back on what she could have done differently to prevent all of this. The aliens had attacked Earth. She couldn't have done anything about that. She and the survivors of her family had fled to the countryside to avoid the atomic bomb sized blasts that come to find out weren't nuclear at all but were just fucking big as hell. Nope, they'd done right fleeing. They'd ended up in what amounted to a refugee camp, then another after that one was attacked, then a third after the second was visited by alien slave ships. Still, nothing Melanie could have done to improve her situation there.

No, her current situation had begun when she and her brother (who was her last living relative) had ended up in a forest camp run by something called the Mitchell Militia. There, they'd been told that they had to contribute somehow if they wanted a place to sleep and food to eat. And the first contribution some skeezy soldier wanted was for Melanie to lay and her back and spread her legs. She'd refused of course. And things had only gotten worse from there. Maybe she should have just done it. Let the guy fuck her. But where would it have stopped? Would she have become his personal whore? Would he have loaned her out to other officers? Other soldiers? All of the soldiers??

She and her brother fled the camp but were chased down for owing the camp a debt. They escaped again, only to have Melanie's brother beaten. He died two days later, probably of internal bleeding. Now Melanie was on the hook for room and board, her brother's medical treatment (my God, he died!), and what they called punitive debt for having tried to run.

After he got a look at her and couldn't take his eyes off her, the man for whom the Militia was named, a guy named Mitchell, took Melanie into his service. She became his maid, his cook, and his bed partner. The latter hadn't happened often. Mitchell always seemed to be away, probably enslaving more people for things they hadn't done wrong and debts they didn't owe. He came to her in the night a dozen times or so over three months. It hadn't been all so bad. It could have been worse anyway. He always put Melanie on her hands and knees, fucked her until he came, sent her back to her own room where she was always under guard, and probably fell asleep for all she knew, sated.

Then, yesterday afternoon she was put in the back of a wagon and they headed inland and north. They stopped for the night in some little hamlet on the river where the Major fucked Melanie again but this time with her laying on her back and him looking into her face the entire time. It was kind of weird, the sudden change in how they did it. Melanie had assumed that Mitchell didn't want to think of herself as who she was, that maybe he wanted to imagine she was someone else. She'd known guys like that before. But now, not only was the Major looking into her eyes, he was taking his time seemingly in an effort to help Melanie enjoy herself. Cum even. She didn't though. She couldn't with him. Although there were definitely unsolicited moments of deep pleasure, Melanie had to want to climax with a man, to enjoy him to the fullest. And she most certainly didn't want to experience euphoria with this fucker.

Gerald led Melanie into the house while the Major walked off away from it with some guy, probably the home owner. Gerald order, "Take it off."

Melanie didn't quite comprehend and asked, "Take what off?"

She was wearing a long satin robe over comfortable casual clothes and a pair of low heel shoes. Gerald clarified, "Take it all off. Everything."

Melanie had objected, looking around herself at the soldiers who were coming in and out of the house, clearing out a root cellar or larder or whatever it was. But when she objected a second time, Gerald reached to the hilt of a knife on his hip and told her, "You can take it off yourself or I can cut it off of you."

She was sure that she was about to be raped by each and every soldier in the company. Last night with the Major had been their last time. He'd fucked her missionary style because he wanted to remember her face as he cruelly reminisced about the woman he'd given over to his army to fuck to death.

But as tears filled her eyes and flowed down her cheek, Melanie did as she was told until she was standing there in the middle of the room in her bra and panties. She didn't look up at the soldiers coming in and out, but she knew they were ogling her. Some made inappropriate comments until Gerald threatened to neuter them.

"Panties and bra, too," Gerald demanded.

Melanie sobbed, just once and just quickly. She unsnapped her bra and let it fall to the ground, then reached for the waist band of her panties. One of the soldiers told Gerald that they were done, and Gerald himself went to the door and must have spotted the Major returning because he started giving orders to the ogling men about preparing to leave, including cinching the Major's horse's saddle again after it had been loosened for the horse's relief. She was confused about why Gerald had made her strip for the Major if the Major was leaving.

"You will serve the rest of your term of indentured servitude here, for the owner of this farm," Gerald surprised Melanie. "You will do anything and everything he tells you to do, when he tells you to do it, how he tells you to do it. This includes fulfilling his sexual needs as you have with the Major."

Melanie just stared at the Lieutenant, unsure of what to say. One part of her was tickled pink to be getting away from the Militia and the Major. But another part was warning that this new man might be far worse. Before she could contemplate a response, Gerald turned and departed. Melanie just stood there still in nothing more than her panties, staring at the open door of the house without a clue of what to do next.

Then, he entered.

The man's eyes took in Melanie's nearly naked body before she raised her hands to hide most of her bosom behind her palms. She looked down to the floor of the little house, ashamed. After a long moment, with what she saw as obedience to the Major through Gerald's order, Melanie let her hands slip slowly down to reveal her breasts (their nipples swollen large from the chill in the room) and took hold of the waist band of her panties.

"My name is Melanie," she said in barely more than a whisper as she began to nervously pull the waist bands off her hips. She continued, "I am your servant and will fulfill all your wants, needs, and desires."

 

[TiredFingers]

Bill was simply entranced with the woman standing before him. It had been forever since he'd even seen a woman naked, any woman naked; to see such a Goddess as this so unexpectedly was simply overwhelming, and he just stared at her womanly features without shame.

Until she covered herself, that was. Then, suddenly the shame came home like a college aged child with dirty laundry. Bill dropped his gaze to the floor, suddenly embarrassed; it was a given that she hadn't come her by her own free will, that her reason for being here was that Major Mitchell had substituted her for the horse that he found more valuable to him.

"My name is Melanie," she began, as she began to shed the last piece of clothing on her. "I am your servant and will fulfill all your..."

Bill watched as the panties slid off her hips and past her smoothly shaved groin, to and beyond her thighs until they hit the floor about her feet--

And he looked away again, searching for something with which he could cover her up as he demanded with a panicked tone, "Please stop … please, don't … don't do that--"

Bill found something -- a silk robe, hers obviously -- and hurried to lift it up before her frontal nudity. He continued, "You don't have to do that, really. Just--"

Suddenly Bill looked to the oriental rug spread out under the kitchen table; below it was the secret root cellar and bunker, where most of his family was hiding, waiting for the all clear to come back out. He hurried around behind the woman, pulling the robe around with him while urging her to put her arms in the sleeves.

He was still rambling about her not needing to do this as he was gathering up her clothes, including a very sexy bra that matched the panties on the floor. He tried to retrieve them, but her feet were still within them. He moved her to free her from them, snatched them up and pressed them and the rest of the clothes to the front of her body, then began directing her forcefully toward and out the still open door.

"Just … just wait here a moment … okay?" he begged as he held her upper arms in his hands, willing her to remain still. "Just wait. I … I have to do something. I have to explain--"

"Who's that?" a male voice asked from just beyond the corner of the house.

Bill's heart leapt in his chest at the sound of Cooper's voice. He looked past the woman just in time to see Marty smiling, asking, "Is she holding all of her clothes in her hands? Jesus, Bill, what have you been doing while we were sitting in the bushes getting eaten up by mosquito--"

"Go inside!" Bill snapped, gesturing the two boys into the house. There was some whispering and snickering as they passed, and Bill gave the older male a push when he caught him looking the woman up and down with a devilish smirk. "Inside! I'll be right in … to explain. Close the door."

He waited for the two younger males to disappear behind the door before he backed away from the woman and just stared at her a long moment. He murmured more to himself than to her, "What the hell...? What … the … hell?"

Bill turned away and walked down the porch a bit, hesitated, then turned back to look at the woman. "Melanie, right...? So … what exactly are you doing here? What I mean is … what did Major Mitchell tell you you were staying here for? And … for how long? I mean … what I mean is … oh, hell, I don't know what I mean."

 

[Alice2015]

Melanie was totally confused by the man's actions. Never in her life, either before or after the invasion, had a man who was offered the opportunity to see her naked and ultimately offered the opportunity to fuck her instead covered her up and rushed her out the door.

She was surprised when two young men (a boy and a man, actually) passed by them on the porch. Melanie hadn't seen any other residents inside or outside the house until now. How many others might suddenly pop up and make their presence known?

When he began rambling about her reason for being here, about what the Major had said to her, Melanie suddenly began to cry. The tears began streaming down her face first, then the sobs began to jump out every three or four words as she explained, "The Major, I am his indentured servant, and, and I don't think he wanted me anymore, and he brought me here, and the Lieutenant, he told me I was to serve you, serve you, in what ever way you wanted, which meant, meant that I was to make my body, make available my body, for your fulfillment, for your needs--"

The sobs finally took over, and Melanie simply lowered her head and cried as she clutched her clothes to her chest.

 

[TiredFingers]

"No ... no, no, please no," Bill began to beg as the woman fell apart right before his eyes. "Please, please don't cry."

He began to move closer, to take her into his arms to comfort her, then stopped when he remembered she was inappropriately naked below that silk gown. He didn't know how to help her. At the same time, he was panicking because he knew by now the rest of the family was likely coming up out of the bunker and would be watching through the windows looking out onto the porch.

That last little bit of what the woman, Melanie, sobbed -- which meant make available my body for your fulfillment, for your needs -- led Bill to finally move forward and take her in his arms, turn her away from the windows, and walk her off the porch beyond the corner of the little house to where near Hankie spent hours each day sawing and splitting firewood.

"Listen … please, Melanie, stop crying, it's going to be okay," Bill tried comforting her. As the sobbing continued and he saw the shades moving about in the windows behind him, Bill told her, "Listen … I'm going to go talk to my family for a moment."

He told her to stay put, hurried to the porch to retrieve Gramma Maggie's rocking chair, and set it on the packed dirt near Melanie. "Please sit, and … just give me a moment to talk to the others. I'll be right back, Melanie. Please … just sit here, and … and I'll be right back."

Bill got Melanie seated, then asked her to stand again so that he could slip her into the jacket which he quickly shed. He repeated his words about giving him a moment, then hurried back to the house. He through open the door to find all 11 of his family sitting or standing about, staring at him silently.

He hesitated, closed the door behind him, took a moment to contemplate his words, then began, "Okay, so … Major Mitchell, when he stopped by … he wanted to show his appreciation for taking the plow horse last autumn--"

"Bluebell!" one of the children called out, reminding Bill that the horse had had a name.

Bill smiled, confirmed the name, and continued, "Major Mitchell couldn't return Bluebell to us … so--"

Suddenly the children were all speaking, wanting to know why the horse wasn't coming back, then asking if they were getting a new one, then offering up new names. Bill tried to regain the conversation, but suddenly the older family members were adding their own comments; within moments, the conversation had turned uncomfortably descriptive for Bill as the questions and family-provided answers to their own questions turned to why there had been a naked woman standing in the kitchen with him while the others were in the woods or underground hiding.

"Stop!" Bill finally snapped so loudly that the entire room went silent in an instant. Softer, he added, "Please … just stop."

He took a moment to consider what he wanted to say. He looked to the kids, then to Maggie. He asked the grandmotherly woman, "Can you take the children to the washroom to get ready for bed, please?"

The children instantly began protesting, pointing out that the sun wasn't even down yet, but soon enough Maggie had them corralled and in the back. Bill looked to the 12 year old Cooper and said softly, "Can you help Maggie, please?"

Cooper wanted to stay, to hear what was going on concerning the woman who was probably fighting off mosquitoes out by the wood pile. But he rolled his eyes and did as he was told, knowing that what ever was coming was for the adults in the room.

Once the youngest person in the room was the 18 year old Marlee, Bill began, "It's pretty obvious why Major Mitchell left Melanie here with us. Her name is Melanie, by the way. Mitchell … well, he had some ideas about how he could make up the loss of the horse--"

"Bluebell," someone interjected, leading to another person or two snickering.

Someone added, "Melanie's prettier than Bluebell."

Another quickly joked, "Better teeth."

"Better legs, too," one of the boys said before laughter erupted.

"Stop!" Bill cut them off, fighting the urge to laugh at the teasing. He glared at those who were laughing, demanding, "Stop. You're being rude and inappropriate."

Then Bill caught the harsh glare of at least one of his family who was not part of the teasing. Marlee was glaring at him from farther back in the room, her arms crossed before her tightly in her well known disappointment posture. Despite the obvious difference in their ages and despite their roles in the family -- Bill considered himself the father-type and Marlee one of his adopted children -- the recently turned 18 year old Marlee had, in private, made it clear to Bill that she wanted a relationship with him that was anything but father-daughter.

"Melanie was dumped on us by Mitchell in an attempt to placate me for the theft of the horse," Bill continued. He ignored the whispered Bluebell and the subsequent giggle and continued, "She will become just another family member, nothing more, nothing less. She's not here for--"

He caught himself, knowing how bad it would sound, but continued hesitantly, "She's not here for me. She's here for us…"

Bill caught Marty whispering to Hankie then chuckling before he clarified, "She's here to help us with the work … with the farm work … and the house work … and the children … just like the rest of us. She will be treated with respect--"

That last comment was made with Bill looking right at Marty before he addressed all of them, "--and will be invited into our home and into our family … just as I invited all of you on the days when you came to me."

He gave them all a moment to absorb what he'd said, half turned toward the door, then stopped to look to Marlee and Loriann. "When I bring her back inside … Melanie … would the two of you young ladies help make her comfortable … make her welcome?"

 

[Alice2015]

(Some of the pic links go directly to the pics, and some go to the websites where I got them from. I don't know enough to figure out how to make them all do the former rather than the latter. Sorry.)

Melanie:

As she sobbed, the man to whom she was now indentured begged her not to cry. He took her aside, then found her a chair to sit in, before asking her to just give him a moment to talk to his family. Melanie knew that included a young man and a teenage boy, but how many others were there and where had they been earlier? She certainly hadn't seen anyone in the house other than this man, the Lieutenant, and the other soldiers.

After Bill left her, Melanie tried to control her sobs. She looked out upon the farm as the sun was dipping behind the coastal foothills. She imagined standing and running into that dark forest. The ocean was maybe 10 miles to the west from here, though without knowing precisely where she was Melanie couldn't be certain. She only knew what direction she would have to go, toward the setting sun. But then what? Find a boat and sail off into the sunset? She didn't know anything about boats. If it was a motor boat, the alien drones would see her and bomb her. Maybe that might be better than indentured servitude, than slavery, sexual slavery if she did as the Lieutenant had ordered her to do.


Vicki:

The eldest of the family's women, after Gramma Maggie, found the situation both hilarious and disturbing. Hilarious because Bill was so flustered with having to explain that the Major had essentially given him a sexual servant in exchange for a more valued plow horse. And disturbing because, well, for the same reason.

Vicki empathized with the woman, Melanie, for what she was going through. She herself had been taken hostage and subjected to sexual servitude just a few months after the world went to shit. But Vicki had fought back, stabbing a man through the neck with a screwdriver as he crawled into bed with her to get his ten dollars worth of heaven. She slipped out of the brothel and was off into the dark of a nearby forest before Vicki's captors realized what had happened.

She spent the next three weeks wandering about, looking for food and shelter while avoiding people and armed, uniformed men in particular. Then, she came across several people working a small plot of land, this plot of land, and with barely more than a Can I stay here for a while? she was part of the family.

She'd initially gotten some negative feedback from one of the younger females, Marlee, who thought of herself as a woman but was barely more than a girl at the time. The now-18 year old had made it clear on Vicki's very first day on the farm that Bill was hers. Vicki could still remember Marlee's reaction when she herself laughed, stepped closer, checked out the teen's bosom, and said with a feigned tone of seduction, "If you were just a bit older, girl, Bill would be more likely to find me crawling into your bed at night then you would be to find me crawling into his."

With Vicki's sexual orientation established and the competition for Bill moot, the two of them had become good friends. That didn't prevent Vicki from sometimes imagining herself in bed with the teen, though. Marlee was a beautiful girl. But she was so damn young. Legal wasn't enough for Vicki, unfortunately, even in this new world of theirs where arbitrary age limits didn't mean much anymore.

And now, with Bill trying to simultaneously dismiss the reason for the new woman's presence here and get the family to accept her as just another person rather than a beautiful woman who'd been sent her as a sex servant, Vicki watched the reactions of the others with a slight smirk on her lips. She found it ironic that even in this day when at any moment one or all of them could be blown to smithereens by an alien bomb falling from the heavens, the same old jokes and clichés and assumptions and reactions to the subject of sex were alive and well.


Loriann:

She sat in the back of the room on a chair that the others left reserved for her own personal use, watching what was happening closely yet not really caring what was going on. Loriann couldn't care the least about who this new woman was. She couldn't care the least about whether or not she'd come here to part her thighs for Bill. She couldn't care the least about whether the others accepted her into the family.

Loriann lived in another world most of the time. She liked it there, in that other world. There, parents didn't scream and holler at their children for absolutely no reason at all, like her own had. There, mothers didn't marry hard, abusive men who (with the mother's full knowledge) slipped into their new step-daughters' bedrooms to have sex with them when they were barely 14 years old, like her own had. There, a young woman, hungry and exhausted and desperate, wasn't passed around between the men of the militia to whom the young woman had come for help, as had happened to her. Vicki had blocked out most of the bad that had happened to her over her 26 years. But in the process, she'd blocked out a whole lot more that had been part of her full self, leaving a half empty shell that sometimes preferred to simply sit in a chair in the corner and watch life pass by.


Marlee:

Of all of the family members partaking in the conversation with Bill about the new woman, Marlee was the least entertained by all the teasing and suggestive comments. This woman, this Melanie, had been given to Bill so that he would have someone to sleep with. Someone to fuck. It was that simple. And it was that unacceptable. Bill was hers. Bill was Marlee's. Oh, sure, he'd told her it wasn't going to happen between them. He was playing the role of father figure to her and to the others. But he wasn't Marlee's father. Her father was dead and gone, blown to bits by one of the Big Bombs that had essentially evaporated the Long Beach area of Los Angeles, where he'd been working at the docks.

Marlee had what a lot of people called daddy issues, though she herself didn't want to admit it. She'd loved her father more than anyone else on the planet. More than her mother, her siblings, her grandparents. She'd had boyfriends who had been virtual copies of her father, in looks, personality, or both. None of them had measured up to her father, though, and after a few weeks or months she'd tossed them aside and continued her search for the perfect man. For the perfect man who was her father and wasn't at the same time.

Maggie had been the first of the family members Marlee met. They met at a market in Bay City where Maggie was trading farm produce and Marlee was picking pockets. The older woman had invited the younger one to come see the farm, which Marlee obviously had. It hadn't taken but just a couple of days for her to far in love with the farm's patriarch. She'd made her feelings known to him, but Bill had told her in the sweetest, kindest way that she was just a girl, that he was an old man, and that it wasn't going to happen between them.

It hadn't, so far anyway. But Marlee was still determined that she and Bill would be lovers. And some new twat from Bay City wasn't going to get in the way of that, even if she was bought and paid for.

Bill looked to her and Vicki (OOC: not Loriann) and asked if they could make Melanie comfortable when he brought her back in. Make her welcome? Right. Marlee would make her comfortable, in the same way Vicki had made that guy comfortable with a screwdriver in the neck.

As if the older redhead had heard what the younger Asian was thinking, Vicki responded quickly, "I'll go get her, Bill. You and Marlee figure out some new sleeping arrangements."

Vicki moved to head for the door, hesitating near Marlee to stare her directly in the eyes and whisper, "Down, girl. You're not going to get anywhere with Bill by alienating this Melanie."

Vicki headed out the door, snatching up a blanket as she went, knowing that the sun had fully fallen by now and that anyone outside would be getting chilly by now. Behind her, Marlee reluctantly went with Bill to the smaller of the little cabin's two tiny bedrooms.

"There's no room for her here," Marlee complained, not wanting the new woman to sleep in here. But then a thought hit her. If this Melanie wasn't sleeping in here, she might end up sleeping out in the living room with Bill on the futon. She quickly added, "But we'll figure it out."

The room was already hard to navigate what with the current sleeping arrangements. There was a queen bed in one corner which Marlee shared with Vicki. (Marlee hadn't originally liked the idea of sharing a bed with a lesbian until Vicki made it clear that there was absolutely no chance of anything every happening between the two of them.) Hanna, the youngest female at 6, usually slept between the pair despite having a the bottom half of a set of bunk beds shared with Paula. A twin bed sat in another corner for Loriann, though more often than not the 26 year old fell asleep in that favored, cushiony chair of hers out in the living room by the fire place.

"Why can't she have the twin bed?" Marlee asked about the bed in the corner. "Loriann rarely sleeps in it. She loves that chair out by the fire place. Falls asleep in it almost every night."

They talked some more and finalized some arrangements, just in time for the pajama wearing 6 and 8 year old to run into the room, excitedly jumping onto their respective beds while asking Marlee to read to them. She told them in a bit, then turned Bill out to the hallway where she looked about for eavesdropping ears and peeping eyes. She whispered to him as she reached out to take one of his hands softly into her own, "I imagine you, Bill. When I close my eyes and touch myself. I see you."

 

[TiredFingers]

"Why can't she have the twin bed?"

"Because it's Loriann's," Bill responded firmly.

He wasn't surprised by Marlee's next comment, "Loriann rarely sleeps in it. She loves that chair out by the fire place. Falls asleep in it almost every night."

"This is Loriann's bed," Bill repeated even more firmly. "And did you see how tall--"

He didn't finish his question. Unless Marlee had been peeking out the window earlier, she still hadn't laid eyes on Melanie and, therefore, hadn't seen how tall the woman was. He finished, "She's too tall for Loriann's twin bed."

Bill had been protective of Loriann since first meeting her, sorry for all of the shit she'd been through in her life. The woman hadn't told him directly, of course, but she had confided to Gramma Maggie, and Maggie -- with a promise from Bill that it wouldn't go any farther -- had told the family's patriarch so that he would understand the kinds of horrors that their newest resident had suffered.

Because of that, Bill wasn't about to resign the beautiful ebony skinned woman to a recliner in the living room, even if Loriann did sleep in it most nights as Marlee had said. Bill understood -- or at least believed he did -- why the young woman slept out there: she'd initially wanted to be close to Maggie, who had a surprisingly comfortable cot that she set out in the middle of the living room each night, despite having been offered a regular bed; and then after she came to know and trust Bill, she'd only come to feel even more safe and secure sleeping near the two eldest members of the family, even if it was in a cushy chair.

Again, Bill wished he'd taken some time last fall to build another cabin, whether a small one for him alone or a bigger one for some of the females or males. But with the loss of the plow horse, it had been all hands on deck out in the fields from before sunup to beyond sundown most of the nights of the harvest. Then winter hit early and hard. I could put up a tent, I guess, he thought to himself.

Bill and Marlee mulled over some ideas and finally decided on a bit of musical beds. For now, Bill would ask Loriann to temporarily surrender her bed; the relatively shorter Marlee would evacuate the big bed and take Loriann's; Melanie could share the bed with Vicki, which Bill didn't think would be a problem for either of them for the short term; 6 year old Hanna, who'd been sleeping between Marlee and Vicki would have to go back to her own bunk bed or, if Marlee didn't mind, the little girl could move to the twin with the 18 year old who'd practically adopted her herself.

The little girls arrived, raising hell as they always did just before bed time. Bill and Marlee went out into the hall, and the teen shocked him by saying, "I imagine you, Bill. When I close my eyes and touch myself. I see you."

He just stared down into the young woman's eyes silently, not sure what to say. The fact that his cock twitched to let him know that it, too, had heard Marlee's confession didn't help him formulate a response.

"I can't, Marlee," he whispered back, also looking around for eyes and ears. "I'm sorry. I just … I just can't."

He wanted to explain more fully, but the hallway came alive with the boys and then Maggie emerging from the bathroom. Suddenly, it seemed as though everyone in the house was either passing by them or asking one or the other of them this question or that. "We'll talk about this more later. Not now."

He reached out to pat her face, then turned and headed out to see if Vicki was taking care of Melanie.

 

[Alice2015]

Marlee

She wasn't too happy about giving up the big bed, but it meant that the new slut waiting outside wouldn't be offered the choice of sharing Bill's bed. For now, anyway. Marlee knew that the tall, dark beauty had a much better chance of enjoying Bill's cock inside her than she had herself. And yes, Marlee had gotten a good look at Melanie as she stood out on the porch of the cabin. After coming up out of the bunker, Marlee had gone to the window and pulled back the curtain just enough to see her competition. The woman was incredible. Slut. Whore, actually. She's parting her legs for money so, whore.

It was more involved than that of course, but Marlee couldn't be bothered with that. She didn't care whether or not Melanie was here by choice or not. She only knew that the woman had likely been ordered or paid or both to keep Bill sexually fulfilled. And keeping Bill happy in bed was supposed to be Marlee's job, even if Bill was still telling her, I can't, I'm sorry, I just can't.

She watched Bill head off toward the front of the cabin and was tempted to follow behind him, but the girls were calling out from the bedroom again for a story and Marlee knew that they wouldn't stop until they'd gotten it. She watched Bill exit the front door and close it behind him, then returned to the bedroom to perform one of her daily chores.


The Other Women

"Hi," she said simply from the porch, far enough away from the woman sitting in the dark as to not startle her. When Melanie looked her way, she walked out to stand near here, offering out her hand as she said, "I'm Victoria. But, round here, everyone calls me Vicki."

The other woman tentatively reached up to take the offered hand. Vicki fluffed out the blanket and helped Melanie wrap it around her, informing the beauty, "They're trying to figure out where you're going to sleep tonight."

Melanie didn't respond to the information, only staring off toward the now dark garden and occasionally down to her hands as they gripped the blanket closed around her. Vicki contemplated where to take the conversation, then said with a soft tone, "You were told you were going to be sleeping with Bill tonight, right?"

The dark haired woman looked up quickly, and her eyes suddenly began to glaze over again. Vicki smiled to Melanie and lowered to crouch near her, grasping one of her hands. "It's okay, trust me. It's all going to be okay. I, um. I've been where you are now. It gets better. Trust me, it gets better."

Vicki glanced back to the cabin, then looked to Melanie again. "Bill's a really good guy, and, and he's not going to make you do that to stay here. By do that, I mean, sleep with him. He's not that kinda guy. He's a good guy, and you'll be welcomed here."

Melanie finally spoke, her words barely above a whisper, "I'm, I'm supposed to make available my body, for his fulfillment, for his--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Vicki cut in. "I know all about it. Like I said, I've been there. Forget that. Forget all of that. Not gonna happen here, trust me."

Vicki squeezed Melanie's hand to emphasize her reassurances. "Listen, are you hungry? Thirsty? Sober?"

She laughed, clarifying, "Too sober, I mean. I know I could use a drink. We make our own beer. And blackberry wine. It's not the best, but it'll kick your ass if you drink it on an empty stomach, which I don't advise. Shall we?"

Melanie seemed hesitant at first, but Vicki convinced the woman she could be trusted. "Let's go inside. The children will all be down in a moment, and we can sit by the fire."

They were coming back toward the front door just as Bill was reaching the other side of it and pulling it open. He looked a bit surprised, as if he'd expected the new woman to still be out in the rocker sobbing. Vicki told him, "We're going to sit at the fire and have a little wine. Whatcha say you give us a little space?"

Bill wasn't sure how things had gotten to where they were right now, but he opened the door wider, gestured them inside, and told them he had things to do. Vicki showed Melanie to a seat by the roaring fire and set about getting them some food and drink. Maggie pitched in, bringing some of it over and introducing herself to the new woman.

"Get out of here," Vicki snapped at Marty and Cooper who were standing near the hallway's opening just staring at the tall beauty wrapped in a blanket. "Go help Bill lock the place down. Git! There's nothing to see here."

The young men nearly had to be herded out with a broom, but soon, with the youngest children already in their beds and the early to bed early to rise Hankie likely already passed out in the boys' room, the living room portion of the house was left to Maggie, Vicki, Loriann (who'd been sitting almost unnoticed in her chair), and Melanie.

"This is a safe place," Maggie reassured Melanie, stepping in to back up all of what Vicki had been telling the younger woman. The three of them chatted softly for almost an hour, interrupted only occasionally by the males bringing in firewood and fresh water and taking a quick ogle of the new girl; and a second time after they'd finished their day's end work and came in to clean up for bed. When it became obvious that Melanie simply couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, Vicki rose and told her, "Come with me. Let's put you to bed. It's about time we all put ourselves to bed."

The two of them were helping Melanie toward the bedroom when Bill came inside for the last time today. The indentured servant told the two she'd catch up with them, then slowly crossed the small room to stand in front of Bill.

"I'm told you are a good man," she said in barely over a whisper, "and that I am safe here."

She had already shed the blanket and given it to Maggie for use on her bed, and now she removed Bill's coat and handed it back to him. The thin, silk robe with its plunging neckline and loosed upper two buttons allowed the man a nice view of the inner roundness of her firm breasts should he choose to let his gaze fall from her own eyes, but she was looking up into his to see if he took a gander. She pulled the gown tighter across her chest, which ironically only emphasized the shape of her nipples, swollen by the sudden exposure to the room's temperature.

"I thank you for your kindness," she continued. After a moment, Melanie finally looked up into Bill's eyes and now definitely in a whisper told him, "And, if you ever wish to, I will happily thank you for your kindness."

She could tell by Bill's reaction and expression that he knew what she was telling him. She moved closer, rose on her tippy toes, and kissed the man on the cheek. With a slight smile, she backed away, then turned and joined the women.

Vicki emerged from the bedroom after less than a minute, retrieved her glass of wine, and walked up close to Bill, offering him a drink. "She's a beauty."

She gave him a moment to respond or not, sipped at the wine, then smiled devilishly. "If you decide you don't want her, can I? I mean hell, she's already in my bed."

Vicki gave Bill almost enough time to react, then laughed aloud. She kissed him on the cheek as Melanie had, sucked down the rest of the wine, laughed again, told Bill good night, and headed off to the bedroom.

Maggie was in the kitchen after ensuring all the children, male and female, were down for the night. She, too, told Bill that Melanie was a beauty. Maggie wasn't a wine drinker, but she did have a glass of beer that was now only half full. She chatted with Bill a moment about the day's events, noted that they'd have to bring up some food from the backup root cellar to replace what had been taken by Mitchell, then set about lowering her cot down from the wall where it hung when she wasn't in it.

"I'll teach her to plant garlic," a voice said from the other side of the room. When Bill turned to look at her, Loriann shrugged her shoulders and smiled playfully. "Tomorrow. I'll teach her to take the garlic bulbs apart and plant them. They have to be planted upright. Root to the bottom, new growth to the top."

It was probably more words than Loriann had spoken in the last week. She didn't know why she was so chatty. She didn't think about such things. She pulled the handle on the recliner, laying it back almost to a horizontal position, curled up into nearly a fetal position, and wrapped her favorite blanket around herself without another word.

 

[TiredFingers]

Bill

He stepped back into the house from the open door as Vicki escorted Melanie inside, wondering about what the two women had been talking outside. Vicki could be quite the joker at times, and the current situation was worthy of humor; Lord knows what the redheaded Irishwomen had told the…

Actually, what was Melanie, ethnically? Bill thought he'd detected just a bit of an accent, but he couldn't know whether or not Melanie had picked it up while living abroad or while living here in the US in a home populated by first or second generation immigrants. Oh, he'd find out later, he was sure. For right now, her ethnicity didn't rate in the top five things Bill would have liked to know about Melanie.

Vicki politely sent Bill away and then did the same with two ogling young men. When Bill returned, it appeared as if it was bed time for the adults. Melanie came to Bill, telling her what Vicki and Maggie had said about him being a good man, then surprised him by suggesting that she was still ready and willing to thank him for his kindness.

Bill knew what Melanie meant, and he nearly repeated to her that that wasn't necessary. But then she stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek … and Bill found that his cock was once again getting stiff and causing him discomfort with its awkwardly bent position in his jockeys.

"Goodnight, Melanie," he called to the beauty, just before she disappeared into the bedroom. Bill stared at the closed door for a long moment before Vicki came back out and playfully suggested that if Bill didn't want to bed Melanie, she'd like to take a shot at her. "I mean hell, she's already in my bed."

"Don't make me regret making that happen," Bill returned with a smile.

Maggie began situating herself, and Loriann -- who Bill honestly and often forgot was in the room -- offered to teach the new resident to plant garlic the next day.

Bill was surprised -- happily so -- to hear so many words come from the exotically dark skinned woman all at one time. He shared a smile with her and agreed, "I think that's a great idea, Loriann. Thank you."

He stood there a while just recalling the day while staring at the fire, then fed the fire and pulled the futon out into the sleeping position. He lifted his set-aside bedroll to one end and rolled it out, and in an instant he was ready for bed. Bill changed into his pajamas in the bathroom and laid down, grateful for a chance to sleep.

And yet … he just lay there for the longest time staring at the cabin's cathedral ceilings and the goods and supplies stored up there that hadn't been taken by the Militia. The absence of the horse made life harder, but the addition of another set of adult hands made this a bit easier. Or, at least Bill hoped. For all he knew, Melanie had never gotten good, rich, farm dirt under her nail or on her knees.

Tomorrow, he told himself again and again. We'll learn much more tomorrow.

 

[Alice2015]

Morning

Maggie was the first to rise as was typical. She hadn't been able to sleep more than five hours straight for more than two decades. Before she and Bill had called it a night, he'd helped her move the dining room table aside, and now she quietly rolled the oriental rug aside to access the hidden root cellar. Twenty minutes later, the house was filling with the delicious smells of coffee, ham, eggs, and toast.

Earth was far enough into its alien apocalypse that many of the consumables that had been so commonly found in kitchens across America simpler weren't available anymore. But here on the farm, the essentials were still found on the table every morning. Most of what the others found as they began rising and coming out were from the farm itself: they didn't have nearly as many hogs for ham and chickens for eggs as Maggie would have like, thanks to the Major and his uniformed thieves, but Bill's friendship with the militia Lieutenant had prevented the stock animals from being cleaned out in total.

The coffee was a luxury item Maggie had insisted Bill get the last time he travelled to Bay City for market. A rumor had been going around that hundred pound bags of whole coffee beans had hit markets all up and down the Oregon Coast, courtesy of a ship from South America that had been damaged but not destroyed and then beached on the rocks to the north of Florence. Maggie had told Bill that if he came home from market without at least five pounds she wouldn't let him inside the door. He'd ended up trading for ten pounds just to show the old lady that he believed she would uphold her threat.

They were down to the last of the beans now though with maybe three days worth left. Maggie had cut back on the strength of the pots until Bill complained that he'd rather just do without.

The house was soon filled with sound an movement as the entirety of the family hit the kitchen before heading to their individual chores. It didn't go unnoticed that the newest family member hadn't yet made an appearance, but when some began to ask, Maggie told them with a firm tone, "Just leave the poor girl be. First one to knock on or open that door goes without supper tonight. And we're having biscuits and gravy and a berry pie, so leave her be!"

It wasn't until all the outdoor laborers had departed and Maggie's indoor help was busy with washing dishes and cleaning that it was suggested that Vicki go talk to the young woman. A moment later, Vicki came surging out of the hallway with a look of panic on her face.

"She's gone," she reported. "She's not in the bedroom room."

"She's in the bathroom," someone suggested.

"She's not! Vicki countered. "I checked, and the bedroom window's unlocked and open wide. She's gone."

 

[TiredFingers]

Bill had lived alone for some years before the invasion, which meant that he'd been solely responsible for the farm's care and security after his seasonal work hands -- hired for the spring planting and autumn harvests -- had left for the day.

Because of this, he'd learned to sleep very lightly so that he could hear coyotes hassling the chickens or the mountain lions stalking the caves or the crack heads trying to get into the tool sheds.

It had taken him a long time to learn to sleep through Maggie's late nights and early mornings, and even longer to learn to wake to the children crying but sleep through there frequent trips to the toilet. But he'd figured it out; he still woke up at the louder sounds but only partially so, drifting back to sleep again as if no one was there and nothing was happening.

This morning was no different until it was obvious that breakfast was ready and the day needed to begin. And his first thought once he'd sat up and put his bare feet on the cold floor was about Melanie. He looked around for her but found only the other 11 hustling about. He slipped on his shoes and long overcoat; the latter was one of those Wild West Gunslinger types coats from the movies that he'd found left behind in a looted Historical Society house in the next old town over. Padding his way out of the house and around to the boys' tree, he whipped out his cock and relieved his bladder. He had his first pee of the day out here because first thing in the morning was a time when there was always a line at the door of the cabin's only bedroom.

He washed at the pump well and went back inside to eat breakfast, finishing just about the time Vicki rushed back into the room and announced that Melanie was gone. His first instinct was to mobilize everyone to find her. Bill wasn't trying to prevent her from escaping; Melanie could leave the farm whenever she wanted. No, Bill's concern was of what would happen if some less than scrupulous man can across her and thought Sure, I'd like to have a sex slave of my own.

They instituted their often-practiced Lost Child routine: with the exception of Maggie and the youngest two children, everyone paired off -- old with young, armed with not -- and headed out to a prearranged place to begin a grid search.

 

[TiredFingers]

If you have been following along with our story, please see the newly added first paragraph in the introductory post regarding this thread being abandoned.