The Tower of Hope

[ToniTaylor]

The Tower of Hope

CLOSED (for the moment)​

The collapse of Eagleton Investment Corporation had been the result of the Company's Board doing exactly what any Business Major is taught not to do during his or her first year of University: don't put all of your eggs in the same basket.

EIC, Inc., had invested every penny it had in the Templeton Tower project, a 44 story highrise in one of the City's highest crime rate neighborhoods. EIC had had a plan to improve the neighborhood and expels the criminal element through both the carrot and the stick. It was hoped that by the time the building was ready for early occupancy, the are would be one of the safest neighborhoods in the city.

That didn't happen, but many other things did. Just 2 years into what had been expected to be a 5 year project, construction was put on hold. Less than 2 months later, EIC declared bankruptcy. After another 2 months, security protecting the 14 acre complex was withdrawn when the check from the foreclosing bank bounced. And within 24 hours, Squatters were moving in.

Several times over the next 2 years, the City sent police in to clear out the Squatters. But with no 24/7 patrolling, the poor and desperate always returned.

 

[ToniTaylor]

The Templeton Tower -- or simply the Tower, as Company officials and most of the public called it -- had been structurally or skeletally completed to the very top, to the 44th floor. But the heights to which such things as utilities, inner-wall studs (these days made of steel, not wood) and walls themselves, ducting, windows, and the finishing touches were completed or even partially so varied a great deal.

Anything that hadn't yet been installed and was sitting on the plot -- stacks of drywall, ducting, pipes, and more -- disappeared, of course, stolen sometimes in broad daylight. Some of what had been installed had been ripped out and carried away, too, sold to scrap dealers or used by the thieves themselves.

Regardless of the level of construction, many of the floors became occupied by Squatters. At times, despite the lack of working elevators, there were people living as high as the 12th floor.

Well, living might have been the wrong word; residing might have been more applicable. Life for the Squatters in the Tower was at times tragic, horrific, and even deadly. Cold winter nights often led to deaths by freezing. Lives were lost to high summer heat as well. One winter, influenza swept through, killing 22, and one autumn, bad food intentionally spread by an anti-Squatter group of thugs killed 11 and sickened 34 more; of the latter, most ended up in hospital for weeks with 6 succumbing to their illness in time due to a lack of proper health care.

That was certainly not the only violence perpetrated against the Squatters, of course. Police regularly raided the complex, beating residents and destroying what they had built in the way of homes; groups of thugs did the same, sometimes stealing anything and everything of value, including what little food there was; and both groups -- cops and criminals -- raped females and sometimes killed males just for fun.

 

[ToniTaylor]

All around the Tower -- across the City, the State, and the country, too -- civilization was collapsing. Oh, that might have been a bit dramatic a description, but not by much.

A deep financial depression had driven unemployment to over 30%. What jobs remained were mostly service jobs -- the poor catering to the rich -- and most of these, in the face of rampant inflation, would not support the worker, let alone any family he or she might have. Exploitation of vulnerable workers, particularly the very young and very old -- and even more particularly of women and girls -- became commonplace and even expected and acceptable.

The City had declared bankruptcy and shut down. It furloughed all but its top Managers and some of their Aides, who ceased doing much work but still collected their salaries until the City's coffers were empty. No larger government entity stepped in to fill the void, leaving the populace without police or fire protection, let alone the other protections and services it had once paid for and enjoyed.

Rioting and the vandalism that accompanied it became a nightly event in the downtown area surrounding the Tower. Looting was on the same par until there simply wasn't anything left to steal.

Anyone able to flee the City did. As that happened, more of the desperate and criminal moved in. The economy in the Tower and the neighborhood surrounding it became one of begging, scavenging, and exploitation.

 

[ToniTaylor]

Then, Madam Taylor came to town.

Toni Taylor's family had been part of the City's inner workings for over 100 years. Her parents, her grandparents, and her paternal great-grandparents before them had been Old Money Uber Rich high society types. A tragic recession 30 years ago hurt the family's fortunes and was followed up by Toni's father squandering away most of the wealth with decades of poor management and bad deals. (He'd sunk nearly a quarter of a billion dollars into the Eagleton Investment Corporation and the Templeton Tower, in fact, becoming its largest investor and greatest loser.)

Toni herself had taken a bit of a different road than her parents had wanted for her. She'd been -- and still was -- one of the most beautiful women in the City. That, combined with her family's fame and infamy both, attracted people with money and means to her ... and to her bed. Toni took advantage of her body, her brain, and her erotic skills to become the Mistress to a succession of powerful and wealthy men. All the while, she was creating the most successful and well connected Escort business the City had ever seen.

By the time she was 38, she was grossing over $12 million a year from her escort business and related enterprises. Some of what Toni had gained had come to through extortion of those who really didn't want what they'd done in the privacy of the bedroom to become public.

When the shit truly hit the fan and the economy collapsed, much of Toni's earnings dried up. She shut down companies, often giving the employees large severance packages or even control of what infrastructure or other resources were left, something they could used or sell to benefit themselves. She helped some of her escorts leave the City or even the Country, to find suitable work -- sometimes the same work -- in other less devastated locales.

Her income dropped 80% over two years. Oh sure, there were still rich men who wanted beautiful young men to suck their cocks. But the actual escort portion of the escort business dried up as the City fell apart. Things took a final tragic turn for the worse when -- in less than 72 hours -- her country estate home was laid to waste by a renegade Army Squad that looted the home and grounds of anything and everything they could before then burning it to the ground and -- in a totally unconnected act -- her condominium in a still protected skyscraper on the outskirts of the downtown area went up in flames after a gas explosion.

Toni suddenly found herself homeless, in a sense. Oh sure, she still had money, lots of it. She could have left the City, State, or Country at anytime and probably lived the rest of her life in comfort without every having to work again, whether on her feet, knees, or back. But the City was all she'd ever known, and while she herself had recently seen such tragedy in her life of comfort, it bothered her deeply that the people living in the City who had suffered so much more than she had continued to do so in even more tragic ways.

So, she called together those people she knew she could trust and depend on, and she put to them a proposal: take control of the Templeton Tower and create something good there. Some laughed, telling her it was a waste land in which no good could ever be found. Others knew that if any one could pull something like this off, it would be Madam Taylor.

Some wanted to know why the Tower in particular. There were a great many neighborhoods in and surrounding the City in which the still fairly wealthy woman could make an impact. But in Toni's eyes, the Tower should have been part of her father's estate anyway. He had been the property's primary shareholder, and with his death a year ago, Toni would have owned more than 50% of it.

It was decided that the Tower would be taken, and on 2 November it was done.

A group of men calling themselves the 33rd Street Militia had had control of the Tower for almost a year now. Toni's informants had told her the Militia had 25-35 men on a regular basis and that they had been using, misusing, and abusing the Tower's occupants at will. The informants had told her that there wasn't a good man amongst them, and that information had greatly her decision on what was to be done to take control of the building.

Most days, just after sunrise, the vast majority of the armed Militia went out into the City to steal and plunder less protected buildings and neighborhoods. They more often than not took a truck load or two of residents with them as well: males of all ages were engaged in forced labor, earning little more than food and water; females were forced into prostitution for City residents who could pay by whatever means was of value, as well as forced into satisfying the sexual urges of the Militia's more senior officers.

Toni had always had bodyguards and security, and as the world around her continued to collapse, that force had grown substantially. By this time, she had more than 2 dozen men she trusted with her life and another 2 dozen she knew would fight for her in more of a mercenary capacity.

The first of the two vehicles, a Hummer with the Militia's Second in Command, was hit by an RPG just six blocks from the Tower. The #2 man was killed outright, as were most of the men in the vehicle. The second vehicle, a decades old Army truck filled with armed troops, was sprayed up high with machine gun fire while Toni's troops called out for the men to toss out their weapons and surrender. Most of them did; those who refused, were killed.

Snipers in the buildings surrounding the ambush area took out the drivers and guards in the two trucks carrying Tower residents. The whole attack was over in less than two minutes: Toni's force suffered 1 dead and 3 injured, while the Militia suffered 6 dead, 4 injured, and 12 captured. The Militia was disarmed; its survivors were told to get the fuck out of the city.

The Tower residents were given the choice: return to their homes to begin a new and better life ... or not. No one was going to force them to return, of course. Toni would find out later that all chose to return and check out this more improved existence that was being promised them.

While the attack on the trucks were occurring blocks away, a second attack was taking place on the Tower itself. One of Toni's former lovers -- for whom she still satisfied his needs on occasion -- had agreed to let her borrow a helicopter that he himself had borrowed from the State's National Guard and forgotten to give back. Her Captain and 11 other armed men repelled down onto the top of the Tower and descended at the same time that another 12 men attacked the property from street level.

The fight lasted less than 2 hours. There was a great deal of gunfire, but in the end there was very little death and destruction. The Militia lost only 6 men, the rest of them giving up; Toni lost 2, both of whom had been newly hired mercenaries. Tragically, a female civilian was killed by gunfire, as was a man and his two children when a bullet struck a gas can and started a fire.

By 10am, the building was cleared of militia and residents. The former were told to beat feet and never come back; the latter were gathered inside the open conference hall of one of the buildings on the campus where Toni explained how things were going to be in the Tower from this point on.

"You will all work to earn your place here," she told them, adding, "however, you will not be slaves anymore. If you have a skill, I will find a way for you to use it to earn a living. If you don't have a skill but wish to learn one, I will help you.

"I am bringing in doctors and nurses," she told them, which resulted in both delight and surprise. Few if any of these people had had any sort of medical care in the past years. "Each and everyone of you will be examined, and you will be cared for as best as can be. Good food and clean water will be made available. No more killing rats in the park or drinking from that dirty river.

She talked of other resources and even took some questions from those brave or desperate enough to ask them. Someone made a doubtful inquiry about who Toni was and why they should believe what she was promising them. It was answered by another in crowd who called out, "Because she's Madam Toni, and she loves us."

That made Toni smile. It was ironic that while she'd come from the City's upper crust and made her living and connections with people who were more often than not from that same crowd, Toni had been very well known for catering to the less fortunate of the City as well. Sometimes as much as 20% of her net income was spent on serving the poor: food kitchens, housing for the otherwise homeless, an addiction treatment center, and more made Toni as well known amongst the poor and powerless as her body and skills with it did amongst the rich and powerful.

As if to ensure them that she was good to her word, a truck backed up to the conference hall and began unloading food, water, clothing, blankets, and more. Over the next several hours -- as her men watched the perimeter and occasionally found themselves returning fire with the few Militia men who'd escaped either of the two attacks earlier in the day -- the residents of the Tower came to realize that Madam Taylor was the real deal.

"I want each of you to return to your homes now, or stay here is you wish as you'll be safe here, too," Toni told them when 9pm came around. It had been a long day for all, and even many of the children were already asleep and had to be carried. "Tomorrow, I want everyone to return here to this place. I will speak to each and everyone of you personally ... I will ask you what you need from me and what you can give back ... and we will work on bringing hope back to this place ... we will work on turning this place into the Tower of Hope."

 

[HornyDog2017]

Ricky Erickson's first post

Ricky couldn't believe how his life had changed in the past year. He'd spent 2 years in the Army before being discharged with no benefits. He became a local police officer only to be furloughed after 18 months when the city declared bankruptcy. He joined the State Patrol only to lose that job, too, after a mere 6 months. He landed a job as private security for a rich and influential banker-corporate type, only to lose that job when the man was assassinated, not on Ricky's watch, thank goodness.

Then a buddy got him an interview with the man he worked for, a man named Parker Dieter, who others called the Captain. Dieter in turn worked for a woman Ricky had most certainly heard of, a rich and influential socialite named Toni Taylor. He didn't know anything about her primary career as a madam, of course. He just assumed she came from old money and had used it well to make new money. It was only after he'd heard her called Madam a couple of times and made some discrete inquiries that he learned that Toni did indeed run a harem of high priced whores.

After a background check and an interview, which included showing his skills at the gun range, he had a job as a Reserve Security Officer. The Reserve portion of his title meant that he never got close to Toni while armed. She was very serious about her personal safety, enough so that Dieter had warned him to never approach her while armed. "Her Bodyguard has orders to shoot first and ask questions later, even if you are wearing one of our uniforms."

Ricky did get the chance to talk with his top boss on occasion, though. Even though the RSOs rarely if ever provided Madam Toni's direct security, they were often invited unarmed to what Ricky called the mansion for barbeques and game nights and such.

The mansion was gone now, looted and burned to the ground by cops, of all people. Ricky had been there that day but had been ordered by Dieter to stand down due to the police force's far superior numbers. Ricky hadn't forgotten that day, particularly since one of his friends had been shot and killed after a verbal dispute got violent.

After they lost the countryside mansion and the downtown apartment, Ricky assumed his employment was coming to an end. Madam Taylor would surely leave the country with her gold and jewelry to live out the good life on some little tropical island. Yet the opposite happened. The Security Force and the Reserve Security Force both grew, by over 50%. Ricky didn't understand what was happening, and Dieter wasn't talking.

Then a week ago, both forces began preparing to mobilize. A helicopter was suddenly part of the force. Ricky, who had proved himself to be a skilled sniper, found himself training with a squad of men to repel from the helicopter. It was a strange training operation: the tops of several trees had been sawn off and some of the limbs removed. Then, after the helicopter hovered in above the trees, the RSOs repelled down through the limbs to the ground.

Ricky found it very strange training, until he learned that the true mission would be repelling down through the skeletal structure of an unfinished building. They were only told that 2 days before the mission, and only just before sunrise of the day of the mission did they learn which building they would be assaulting. Dieter didn't say it, but Ricky was sure they were worried about the secrecy of the mission.

And finally, it was time to go. Most of the rest of the Force had already left during darkness by the time Ricky and his squad boarded the helicopter. They flew through the dark and sunrise and reached the building just in time to see an explosion a dozen of blocks away from the Templeton Tower.

"That's the strike team hitting our enemy's main body," reported Dieter's Lieutenant, who was leading the Rooftop Team. In his headset, Ricky heard, "Erickson, you're job is to descend and find a perch from which you can kill any enemy troop coming back from that attack or any enemy troop or, fuck, anyone with a gun that you see who isn't one of our men, got it?"

"Copy," Ricky said, gripping his sniper's rifle.

They repelled to no resistance at all, and quickly began clearing floor after floor on their way downward. The upper floors were literally nothing but steel structural beams and temporary flooring, but as they dropped, the floors began including walls, some utilities, and more. Ricky heard shots on the floors below him as the point men finally met resistance. He found 6 dead gunman spread out from 36 to 32, as well as one of their own men being tended to after he'd taken a bullet through the thigh.

Things got dicey at 27, though, when a major firefight erupted. Ricky hadn't had to engage their enemy yet, but he got called forward to help now in the stairwell. He called to the man they called Sarge, telling him, "I got a better idea!"

Running to the building's edge with a buddy who supplied cover, Ricky hung over the edge and dropped to the next floor. He came up behind the gunmen holding his own force at bay and put them down. And the fight continued downward. Twice more, men -- including Ricky -- went over the open edges of the buildings to flank the enemy. They'd brought repelling ropes with them for the purpose, but they'd found they didn't need them because of the availability of construction structures between the floors.

Soon enough, though, they began running into floors that had real and makeshift walls all along the outside of the floors. They repelled as much as they could, but pretty soon that was no longer viable. They simply fought their way down the stairwell, dropping concussion grenades when necessary, something the enemy didn't have.

"You don't believe in bad luck?" the Sarge asked when Ricky found what he thought would be a good sniper blind on the 13th floor.

Ricky only laughed and said, "Bad luck for them, maybe."

For the next hour, as the rest of the squad worked its way downward to meet the squad that had penetrated the building on the main floor, Ricky watched for the enemy through his weapon's scope. Twice he took out enemy troops; twice he injured men but did not killed them dead as he could see that they were out of the fight.

Eventually, the shooting ended, the building was cleared, and one of the guys showed up with a hot meal and a warm beer, telling him to get in a nap because he would be on swing shift over watch.

"The building's ours then?" he asked when the Sarge made his rounds. The man told him yes, which led Ricky to ask what probably sounded like a stupid question. "Why, exactly, did we take it?"

"Because this is where civilization is to be reborn," the Sarge said.

Ricky wasn't sure how to react to that, so he only smiled and sucked on his warm beer. Someone brought him a mattress and blankets, and less than 2 minutes after laying his head down, he was out.

 

[ToniTaylor]

Toni was sitting atop an empty crate staring at Ricky Erickson when he awoke from his late afternoon nap. She smiled at his reaction to unexpectedly finding the big boss patiently awaiting his rising, asking, "Sleep well, soldier?"

She waited for his response, then made her offer. "We lost three good men today, including one of my veteran Bodyguards. Captain Dieter tells me you're a good man, too, up close with a pistol and far off with a rifle. He also says he trusts you. I need a man like that in my Bodyguard Squad. Interested? It would mean a bump in pay and other compensations. Of course, I'd expect more from you as well. Would you be willing to take a bullet for me, soldier?"

 

[HornyDog2017]

Ricky was surprised and somewhat confused by Madam Toni's presence. When she presented her offer, he understood, though, he honestly would have expected Captain Dieter to do so.

When Toni asked him if he would take a bullet for her, as if he was Secret Service and she was the head of the nation, Ricky smiled and chuckled softly. But by her reaction, he realized that she was serious. He sat up a bit taller to study her; he had shed his outer shirt to nap, leaving his muscular upper torso on display in a wife beater's shirt.

Also on display beyond the fabric of the worn, dirty shirt were 3 of the 5 scars on his upper body: the entry hole of a bullet he'd taken in Afghanistan, the exit wound of one he'd taken in Syria, and the ugliest of his wounds, where a piece of metal had ripped through him after his vehicle had been hit by an RPG in, of all places, the rural countryside of Idaho, where he'd been part of the siege on a white supremacist compound where underage female hostages were being forced to partake in violent pornography.

Ricky was about to ask if she was serious but didn't. Madam Toni, he knew, was confident in her belief that she could return some semblance of civilization to the city. And from what he'd been told and from what he'd seen, she seemed to have the resources to get it done. All she needed were a few good men and women to stand behind her; a force to keep her alive and moving safely forward.

"Yes, I would," Ricky said before he realized it. He thought about what he'd said a moment, then repeated with more emphasis, "Yes, Madam Toni. I would take a bullet for you."

 

[ToniTaylor]

Tower Population: 122, plus Toni's people (including Sister Maria)

Toni couldn't help notice the array of wound scars on the man's body, studying them sufficiently to make some men think she might be ogling his fit form rather than than just the damage done to it during times of danger. When Ricky said he would indeed take a bullet for her, Toni smiled a bit wider.

"Well, you seem to have taken enough of them already," she said as she stood. "Let's hope you never have to take one again, whether it be to save my life or the lives of others. Report to Captain Dieter in the morning for reassignment."

She turned to leave, hesitated, and turned back. With a sincere tone, Toni said, "The Captain has told me about what you have done for us thus far. I'm happy you joined us, and ... and I'm going to make sure that you are happy you joined us, too."

She smiled a bit wider again, turned, and left.



The next morning:

Although Dieter had suggested that the helicopter return to take her out until the building was better secured, Toni had remained put through the night. They'd found a room in the interior of the 7th floor that had previously been occupied by the militia's leader due to it's higher level of security, cleared it of any potential booby traps (of which there were none), and designated it Madam Toni's home in the tower.

Toni had arranged for two more trucks filled with supplies to pass through the checkpoints between her current rural residence and the Tower, but there had been trouble on one of the roads and the convoy had been turned back. So, although Toni refused to board it to withdraw, the helicopter did make two return trips to the Tower.

After having surveyed the upper portion of the skeletal structure, Dieter's men had found the best and safest place for the helo to lower pallets of supplies. The first delivery was mostly military and medical supplies while the second was mostly food and water. Toni had insisted on being awoken for each delivery, and after the second pallet was broken down just after 5am, she immediately put a half dozen of her men and a dozen mostly female residents to work packing the badly needed food and medicine downward.

The civilians living in the Tower had, until now, been responsible for finding or buying and then cooking their own food. It was a very inefficient way of feeding the population of 122, as the census had determined the number of residents to be. Instead, on the main floor of the convention hall a military style Field Kitchen was set up to prepare and serve hot meals to the entire population as a whole.

One of the most conspicuous people working the kitchen was a woman called Sister Maria. Maria -- who had once been a Novitiate within the Catholic Church but had left to work with the poor and downtrodden on her own -- had been playing two parts in this community for months: first, she'd been a spiritual advisor and assistant to the people of the Tower, allowed to work in peace and security by the now-dislodged 33rd Street Militia; second, she'd been Madam Toni's primary source of information on the Militia and on the Tower itself. Without Maria's secretly delivered messages, the assault on the Tower might never have happened, let alone succeeded with so few deaths on the side of the good guys.

Maria was seemingly tireless in her service to the people of the tower. When Maria got down to the main floor with the new food and supplies and found out the woman had been awake all night, she waved two of her Bodyguards over and told them, "Take this woman to her bed, wherever it might be, and make sure she goes to sleep."

The former nun-to-be tried to argue that she had work to do, but Toni told her, "You can walk to your bed, or these men can carry you to it. You're no good to me if you collapse from exhaustion. We can manage without you for half a day I'm sure."

Maria surrendered to the demand and returned to her little room on the 3rd floor of the Tower. It wasn't much, as in keeping with the Church's traditions of living in poverty; there was a twin bed mattress on a sheet of drywall laid out on wooden pallets, a small desk with a three legged stool, a wooden crate with some clothes, and hooks on the wall for the remainder of her clothes.

After leaving the Church, Maria had ceased wearing the Habit, but she still wore the Coif to hide her hair. After the departure of the one Bodyguard who'd escorted her -- more to ensure she actually went to rest than to protect her from any danger -- Maria removed the head covering, allowing her long, wavy, auburn hair to spill out upon her shoulders. Although she never thought of it herself, Maria was a beautiful woman, with flawless, fair skin, the face of a cosmetics model, and all that incredible, natural hair.

She unlaced and removed her tall boots, then stripped out of her simple, plain dress. She removed her bra and panties, the former of which she hung from a hook and the latter of which she would wash and rinse in the morning before hanging it in the southernly facing window of her room to be dried by the sun.

If she had had a full length mirror, which she had never had since joining the church as a teen, she would have now been able to see that the beauty of her face was matched well by the beauty of her body. She was well curved with a tight, flawless body that measured to 34C-24-36. Maria donned a sleeping shirt and took down a second pair of panties that had dried during the previous day.

But before she donned them, Maria pulled back the blanket and sheet of her bed, laid a folded towel in the middle of the mattress, laid down with her lower torso upon it and her head upon a mound of two pillows, and slipped her hands down between her thighs. She knew that despite having been awake for almost 24 hours, she was too wired to get to sleep without assistance.

It had been a few days since she'd last masturbated, so it didn't take her long to finger herself to climax. She held a small throw pillow to her face as she cried into it in ecstasy, then set the pillow aside, pulled the bedding over her, and after her heart had slowed to normal and the gentle trembling of her pleased body waned, she slipped into a deep slumber that wouldn't end until almost high noon.



That noon:

When next Maria and Toni were together down in the convention hall's kitchen for the midday meal, the latter waved over a man in military fatigues. "Sister Maria, this is Corporal Ricky Erickson, the newest member of my Security Force. Corporal, this is Sister Maria. She has worked with the people of the Tower for...?

Maria had been unaware that she was staring firmly at the handsome soldier and almost missed the prompting of an answer from Madam Toni. She broke her ogle and blushed, lowering her face a moment before she looked up again and answered, "I began my service here six years ago this past September and took up residence here two years after that. I'm pleased to meet you, Corporal Erickson."

"Maria is very important to the future of the Tower of Hope," Toni said. Toni caught the younger woman blushing yet again, then explained, "It was the Sister who suggested the new name for the Templeton Tower."

Toni explained that Maria would supervise much of the domestic operations, from the kitchen to the infirmary to the school. Then, she turned to Ricky and said, "I spoke to Captain Dieter this morning about you and about how best to use you. I suggested that you provide Bodyguard Security for Sister Maria, but the Captain says you would be better utilized in a, what did he call it...? A blind? No, a hide ... a sniper's hide. So, we compromised. They're setting up one of these hides on the southwest corner of the third floor, which happens to be where Sister Maria lives. This will be your primary duty station ... and, while you're there, you'll keep an eye on the Sister when you get an opportunity."

Dieter happened to call for Toni's attention from a nearby doorway, and she excused herself, thanking the both of them for their hard work and dedication. After Toni was gone, Maria realized she was staring at Ricky again. She blushed and diverted her eyes, then acknowledged the call of one of the kitchen workers who needed her help.

"I'm sorry if watching over me will get in the way of your preferred duties, Corporal Erickson," Maria said, not actually feeling sorry at all. The man was handsome and manly, and the vision of him left the young woman feeling warm in places where the Church had taught her she should feel warm for men. She excused herself as Toni had, but with a smile asked before she left, "Perhaps we will talk again soon...?"

 

[HornyDog2017]

Last night

While standing over watch, Ricky had a hard time keeping his mind off his boss. He'd noticed her study of his scars, wondering was she looking at my wounds or more the body upon which they'd been inflicted? Ricky would have found it ironic that Madam Taylor had hoped he wouldn't notice her giving his form the extra little bit of attention. But, he had.

Ricky would be lying if he was to say he hadn't had more than his share of sexual fantasies about his sexy boss. She was 15 years his senior -- he'd just recently turned 26 -- and yet she was still one of the most erotically beautiful women he'd ever known. And, of course, there was the additional knowledge of her sexual past. She'd been the mistress of some powerful and influential men, as well as the madam of one of the most exclusive escort services in the state, maybe even in the country

Just how good in bed would a woman like that be? Ricky had found himself wondering on many an occasion. Of course, he'd never get a chance to find out. Ricky had quietly made inquiries to his mates about whether or not their boss ever came slumming amongst them. The responses had all been very firm no's. There hadn't even been a hint of fraternization between Toni and the troops.

Dieter showed up just after sundown with a Winchester Model 700 rifle that was equipped with a night vision scope and a sound/flash suppressor. The Captain got on the radio to announce that their south side over watch would be taking some target practice, and Ricky fired off three rounds each as three different distances -- 200 yards, 500 yards, and almost 800 yards -- each time hitting his man-sized target with the third round.

"I'm giving you a promotion to Corporal," Dieter told Ricky after they'd finished sighting in the rifle. "If you keep up the good work, you'll be a Sergeant in no time at all. Some might think that such formality -- rank -- is wasted on a paramilitary force like ours, but it is not. Chain of command is very important, particularly in small organizations like ours."

Dieter pulled out two sets of Corporal chevrons and set them out before Ricky. He jokingly reminded him, "Remember, points up."

Ricky thanked Dieter and took the chevrons. They weren't the standard gold color thread but were dark green instead, to go along with the camouflage coloring of his uniform. "I appreciate the confidence in my abilities, Captain.

"I think Madam Taylor already told you that--"

Ricky cut in politely, asking why Toni Taylor was still being called Madam. "I mean, it's ... isn't it a reminder of what she used to do? Isn't she...?"

Ricky didn't know how to ask the question Isn't she reminded that she was once basically a whore and then a pimp? Every time Ricky heard Toni called that, he couldn't help but imagine her in the well appointed lounge area of an upscale brothel, introducing some wealthy horn dog to a line up of beautiful, sexy women in too much make up and not enough clothes. (She had never run a brothel, of course, but Ricky couldn't help imagining that.)

Dieter's response was unexpected: "Ask her yourself, Corporal."

Ricky chuckled nervously, saying after a moment, "Naw, that's okay."

"Come with me," Dieter said as he stood. "I want to introduce you to someone."

The Captain left a man to hold down the sniper hide and led Ricky up to the 5th floor. This level had been almost ready for some company to move into before construction had ceased, but some of the plumbing, electrical, ventilation, and other systems had been stripped by scroungers taking what they could to the recyclers for sale.

The squatters had done a pretty fair job of making the place relatively comfortable despite the looting. Ricky found what had been intended to be a large office for a single company, a generous space occupying half of the floor. The residents had used any sort of building materials they could find to divide the space up into apartments, using everything from stacked masonry blocks to plywood to cardboard to blankets.

The floor was heavy with the smell of food cooking over small fires. Ricky realized very quickly that most of the little homes were occupied by women -- many with children -- and very few men aside from some elderly or infirmed ones. He couldn't help but wonder whether it had always been this way or only after he and his fellow warriors had run the 33rd Street Militia out of the building.

Dieter stopped at where a blanket hung as a door, knock lightly on a piece of steel, and asked, "Emelia, are you home?"

There was movement beyond the door, and a moment later a short, petite young beauty pulled the blanket aside to look out. She smiled to Dieter, then let the smile fade when she spied the strange male behind the Captain. She studied Ricky for a moment, then stepped back and told them, "Please come in."

The home was pretty typical of most of the squats: a small stove smoked from the wood and rolled paper burning beneath its iron pot, the smoke rising to flatten out across the ceiling that was now open after the tiles and lights had been filtched; a makeshift table featured two simple settings as well as a salt shaker but no pepper; some wooden and metal-wire crates were tipped on their sides and stacked to serve as shelves and cubby holes; a single sized mattress lay on the floor in the far corner while a second one -- made of couch cushions sewn together -- lay nearby.

"Emilia, this is Corporal Erickson," Dieter told the young woman. "The Corporal is a member of Madam Taylor's Security Force. He was recently promoted and will need someone to sew his new insignia onto his uniform shirts."

Ricky began to counter, "No, Captain, I can--"

"Emilia here..." Dieter cut in firmly, giving Ricky a sharp chastising scowl, "...was a domestic servant to one of the 33rd Street Militia's top officers before we sent him away."

Sent him away? Ricky thought, wanting to laugh but managing not to. I probably put a bullet through his chest.

"This was how Emilia earned her living," Dieter continued, "doing his laundry, cooking his meals ... and other such things."

It didn't take a genius to understand what Dieter meant by other such things. Emilia had obviously been this now-absent man's bed mate. It also seemed a bit obvious that Dieter was setting Ricky up to be this now-absent man's replacement.

"Emilia has a child to support," Dieter continued with a pleasant smile, one that a rather nervous looking Emilia returned, "a young boy only 2 years old ... yes?"

"Three in January," Emilia responded, her gaze set firmly on the anxious Ricky. She explained that he was currently next door with a trusted friend, then said, "I cannot go out into the city to work. I must stay with my son, here. But there is no work in the tower."

Dieter gestured for the insignia, then gestured Ricky to hand them over to Emilia. "Corporal Erickson will bring you his shirts tomorrow."

Emilia nodded her understanding, thanking both men before Dieter turned Ricky back toward the passageway. Outside, the Captain said pointedly, "Emilia is not a whore. She is, however, in need of someone to support her. Just something to consider, Corporal."

Dieter said nothing more on the subject, directing Ricky to return to his duty station after telling him, "We're setting up a resource distribution center on the 7th floor. Head there tomorrow. They'll set you up with some things you can take to Emilia, to pay for her work. I have been told she's a good cook. Maybe some food."

Ricky considered what his supervisor had told him as Dieter departed for other duties. The man had suggested that he take Emilia as his lover in exchange for compensation, hadn't he? Ricky wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not. He knew that a lot of his fellow soldiers had such girlfriends.

It was just that Ricky never had. In fact, he'd never once in his life even had a relationship that had lasted longer than a weekend while a civilian or a two week leave while in one of his service positions.

Dieter had suggested he collect some resources to pay Emilia, which Ricky assumed he would also do if she accepted him as her patron. But he honestly had no idea how much to give the young mother for what she would give him. It wasn't like he was taking her to dinner a couple of times, dancing and a movie, maybe some flowers and candies, all of which would lead to a third date fuck and suck and -- if enjoyed by both -- a continuing relationship. He could calculate roughly how much that would cost him in a pre-collapse situation, but this was entirely different.



The next morning:

Ricky slept soundly until just short of 0700 when an explosion a few blocks away shocked him back to consciousness. A Security Officer nearby casually told him All's good, and after just laying there a few minutes recalling the introductions on the 5th floor the day before, he got up, cleaned up, and dressed to go visit Emilia.

The young woman pulled open the blanket upon the knock on the metal stud and invited Ricky inside. He gave her his two shirts, then offered out a bag of food and other things he thought she might need. He flinched at an unexpected movement in the corner to find that her two year old was hiding under the blankets of his little bed. When the little one looked out and smiled, Ricky smiled back, greeting him.

"Good looking boy, Emilia," Ricky told her. "Can I can you Emilia? I didn't get your surname last night."

They settled on that topic, and Ricky told Emilia as she looked into the bag, "I wasn't sure how much you charged to sew on a couple of chevrons, but ... if that's not enough I'll get more, and if it's too much, I have a couple of pieces of clothing that need repair, if you're interested."

They chatted and settled on terms, and Ricky excused himself, saying he had to check in down in the convention center. Before he left, though, he stepped over closer to the boy knelt, and held out a candy bar. The lad was hesitant, but eventually he snatched the treat. He was still trying to figure out how to get it open when Ricky made his farewell to the young woman.

Down on the main floor of the building adjacent to the tower, Ricky found himself being waved over to Madam Toni. She introduced him to a beautiful young woman named Sister Maria who Ricky was sorry to hear was a nun. Or, at least, that was what he thought. The head dress told him she was with the church, which he presumed meant she was a celibate member of the Catholic Church. He was wrong on the first, but was he wrong on the second? He couldn't know, even though tonight he'd probably be having fantasies of taking her over the back of a pew or some church's grand organ.

Ricky's thought became even more dirty when Toni informed him that his daily station would be very near Sister Maria's quarters. He nodded to each of the women, saying, "It would be my honor and privilege to provide you with security, Sister."

When Maria apologized for taking Ricky away from his over watch duties, he laughed. "I will be more than happy to be pulled away from staring down upon the city for hours on end to look in on your safety, Sister."

Toni and Maria both departed, and Ricky found himself watching the latter, younger woman's backside with a deepening and taboo desire. He hadn't been raised a religious man -- he certainly wasn't of the Catholic faith -- but he understood how deep the feelings went amongst such people regarding the inviolate nature of a nun's pussy. He shouldn't even be fantasizing about putting his cock inside Maria, but Ricky couldn't help it. He looked away finally, chuckling softly to himself, wondering whether there was anything else he could imagine that would get him sent straight to hell any faster than fucking a young nun.



A couple of hours before he was to go on Over Watch, Ricky was again knocking on the steel stud that was the door frame of Emilia's apartment doorway...

 

[ToniTaylor]

Last night

The young mother flinched at the sound of the knock of knuckles on metal at the entrance of her home. A familiar male voice asked, "Emilia, are you home?"

The Squatter smiled at the Captain's question and excitedly moved to pull the blanket aside. She had been the consort of the now disbanded Militia's 2nd in command, and as such she had lived relatively more comfortable than some of those around her. Emilia was a smart girl, though, and knowing that envy could sometimes be dangerous, she often shared her good fortune with her neighbors.

But with the destruction of the Militia, she was desperate to find a new sugar daddy. Fortunately, she'd made the acquaintance of the new militia's 1st in command very soon after the building had been fully secured, and she'd made it very clear to him who she was and what she would do for him if he chose to fill the now empty role in her life.

But Dieter had seemed a bit hesitant during their first three or four encounters, and now with this new man in tow, it only took seconds for Emilia to realize that the Captain was instead offering the position to this Corporal. That, of course, was a serious disappointment.



The next morning:

Despite her disappointment, Emilia greeted the Corporal with a friendly smile when he arrived the next morning. She took his shirts, then took the bag he was offering. He complimented her boy's handsome looks and asked how he should address her.

"His name is William," she said as she set the shirts aside and took a look into the bag. "My last name is Gonzales, but ... you can call me Emilia."

Her eyes widened at what she saw in the canvas bag: several cans of processed meat and fruit, freeze dried coffee, dehydrated vegetables, a small block each of cheese and butter, and more. It was far more than what she would want to simply sew insignia onto uniforms. In fact, it was far more than what she would ask for to suck the man's cock dry and let him then put it inside her for a second pleasurable release.

She looked up to watch the interaction between the Corporal and William, thinking suddenly that maybe it wasn't a man's rank that would support her and her son. Had Ricky given her this much because of a lack of knowledge of what was expected or because he was simply a generous man? Emilia didn't know, but she was very eager to find out.

"You can bring me your clothing that needs mending," she said in response to Ricky's question about whether or not his offer had been sufficient. Just in case he didn't realize just how much he'd overpaid for some simple seamstress work, she didn't want to say too much, so she added, "If you have laundry, I could do that, too."

Would Ricky think she would want more or that this current offer had already paid for that additional labor? Emilia would let Ricky figure that out on his own. Would he think that this canvas bag bought him access to her pussy or at least her mouth? Again, Emilia would let Ricky ask the important questions or make the moves necessary to get an answer. She was in no hurry to part her thighs or wet her lips -- either pair -- for a new man, but she would if necessary.

"If you come back this afternoon, I will have your shirts ready with their insignia," she told him, offering him a tea, which he turned down, saying he had places to be. "Bring me your laundry then, too. I will have it for you in the morning."

William finally interpreted his mother's nature to mean that this man could be trusted. The boy wobbled to his feet and crosses to latch his arms around the Corporal's leg for a hug. Emilia couldn't help but smile. William had never taken to her former patron, primarily because every time the Militiaman was here, William was sent to a neighbor's home to allow the two of them to engage in unseemly acts.



Early afternoon:

Emilia heard another knock at her door and, knowing who it would be, called, "Please come in."

Ricky poked his head in, then stepped inside at her gesture to do so. She gestured him to one of the three mismatched chairs at the little dining table, offered him coffee -- which this time he accepted -- and showed him his updated shirts.

William was out cold on his bed after a day of energetic play, allowing the two adults to chat quietly about the work she had done and would do with the laundry he'd just delivered. Emilia gestured Ricky to stand, telling him, "Take your shirt off."

She caught his reaction and giggled, showing him his shirt with the Corporal insignia and telling him, "You're out of uniform."

Emilia waited for Ricky to strip off his shirt, then helped him into the new one. She smoothed it down over his arms and back with a bit more touch than was necessary, then moved around to his front to take over the duty of buttoning which Ricky had already started. She watched her fingers initially but then looked up into the foot taller man's eyes for the moment that it took to finish.

"Now you're in uniform, Corporal," she said with a bit of a flirty smile as she smoothed the shirt down on the front side, then stepped back a bit. She watched him inspect the work, then said, "Sit. I made a meal of what you brought me. Sit, eat. You have a long night ahead of you."

They sat and dug into the meal. It was simple, but Emilia had traded some things for some spices to spruce it up. Ricky seemed impressed, and Emilia accepted his compliments with wide smiles. She asked him a bit about his background, not knowing how much he would be willing to share with her. She was just getting into talking about her own self when his radio crackled with an order to get to his sniper hide early as some suspicious activity had been detected a few blocks away, possibly nearing the Tower.

"Take this," Emilia said as she put some of the more portable food on a plastic plate and wrapped it in a towel. As he was about to depart, she surprised herself by saying, "I will cook you breakfast if you stop by in the morning."

Emilia studied Ricky's reaction, then added, "Perhaps you could get breakfast meat? Bacon? Sausage? Maybe a couple of eggs?"

(OOC: I will write for Toni later. I don't have time now.)