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The Good Life: Combat Ready (ch. 48)
🕑 Added 2024-05-03 15:02:35 +0000 UTCCinder's hips spasmed in the air, her face buried in some pillows while a river of cum spilled out from her twitching pussy. Her firm ass was covered in it as well, as was her back. I took a step back to admire my handiwork, my cock covered in a glistening sheen of our combined fluids. I'd probably have to throw out the bed because the sheets were absolutely drenched with her cum and sweat. Reaching out, I delivered a hard slap to her ass, leaving a cherry-red handprint behind.
Cinder moaned into the pillows, her breathing hitching while her hips lifted, ready to take me in once more. I just chuckled, “I’d say you've convinced me. The army will be split right down the middle -- you and Taylor each get a half.” I decided and I heard Cinder moan a response. Slowly, she flipped herself over, revealing a flat stomach and pale breasts that were capped with stiff dark red nipples. Her skin glistened with a shine from sweat and cum.
I wasn't sure when exactly it started happening, but using my powers on myself was having some weird results. My balls had stopped trusting me, so every time I came, I ended up cumming buckets. As if my balls were convinced it was the last load I would ever blow and they wanted to make the most of it. My refractory period was shortened considerably by sheer necessity. On the road, Yoruichi and I didn't stop until we did at least three rounds. Sometimes six. One time we went eight, though by that point it felt like I was cumming puffs of air.
And I only saw that number increasing now that I was back home.
Cinder gazed at me blankly, cum smeared across the bridge of her nose and cheek like war paint. Her amber eyes were half lidded, her expression that of someone who had spent the better part of three hours getting her brains fucked out and was currently trying to scoop them back in. “T-Thank you,” she managed, licking her lips.
“Of course. You've earned it, Cinder,” I chuckled, sparing her a glance while she collected herself. “I'd clean up soon, though. You'll be mobilizing to conquer the Commonwealth in a few hours, you know?” I pointed out, a ghost of a smile tugging at my lips when I could see her physically struggle to grasp the information before it slammed into her. She jumped, flinching in alarm and I just laughed to myself before I skipped out, leaving her to it.
Nuka-World was in the middle of preparations for the battles to come. The plans were made almost as soon as we had touched ground in the New World, so everyone knew what they were doing. I saw rows of scavenged power armor receiving last minute system checks to triple check if everything was okay with them. Power armor was pretty cool, I decided. And it was pretty annoying that I was too tall to get in one.
They were a bit like airplanes -- you had to be between 5’5 and 6’0 to fit in one. And, once you did, you became a seven foot tall metal behemoth. Large bulky armor, every movement accompanied by a hydraulic hiss and a whirling of fears. They were basically like tanks, and the T-45, the model that we scavenged the most of, moved like one. Mobility was sluggish, but if you give them time to build up speed, they could move pretty fast.
The T-51 set was slimmer. Less bulky. It offered less protection, but it was much faster because of it. We had fewer sets of that.
The pinnacle of the power armor was the X-01 series. Bigger, better, stronger, faster. There had been a set in the Galactic Zone and, to my immense surprise, it had been a functioning set of armor rather than a prop. I wished I could give it a spin, but I was too tall without making some serious adjustments. And, while I wanted to get in the robot, I didn't want it so badly that I was willing to risk breaking it.
The army was arming itself from our surplus armory -- I saw modern guns from the Old World with a smaller number plasma or laser weapons. We hadn't yet recreated the microfusion cell tech, so we were conservative with our ammo for the weapons. In terms of long range, we had sniper rifles -- the New World seemed to have a fondness for anti-material rifles and gauss rifles. Probably to deal with the machines I saw sprinkled about the army -- Assaultrons, Mr. Handys, and a lone Sentry Bot that was so outfitted with weapons and rockets it probably counted as an army alone.
I watched the proceedings from above, not wanting to trip anyone up because their boss was watching. Taylor was seeing to her people -- the Disciples and her insects. Seems like she had been building up the ant colony beneath the Gulch because they were out in force. By the end of the day, they would have secured their first footholds in the wasteland.
It was as I watched them get ready, I took notice of Rumi's approach. “It's starting already?” She questioned, and I glanced over my shoulder to see that she had changed out of her travel clothes. Ripped up denim pants that hugged her legs and a white tank top that was tied off at her ribs, exposing her abs and defined arms.
I tilted my head, curious that Rumi was asking me of all people. We had traveled together for a few weeks, but in the end, it was a very rare thing for her to instigate a conversation. Things had thawed a bit between us, but I knew that Rumi would still try to kill me if given half a chance. “Yeah. Doomsday clock might not be at midnight yet, but it's only a few ticks off. You good with this?” I asked her, inclining my head to the army.
Rumi came to a stop next to me, a grimace passing over her face. “No fucking clue,” she admitted with a surorising amount of honesty. “Morality has never been something I gave a shit about. I always figured I could offload deciding what was the greater good and what was a necessary evil on to the people who did care about it. I figured if I was on All Might's side of things, then that was the right side, and I never had to put any more thought into it.”
A sigh escaped her, “That's come back to bite me in the ass. I can't tell if I should be down there kicking your guys’ heads in or joining them to fight.” It must be weighing pretty heavily if she was admitting that to me of all people.
“I'm probably the wrong person you want to ask about the greater good or necessary evils,” I pointed out, earning a laugh from her even as she seemed annoyed that I could make her laugh.
“No probably about it. You destroyed the world,” she said, the smile sliding off her face as she remembered that.
I rolled my eyes, “I am partly responsible for the destruction of the world. Thirty percent responsible, max. Closer to twenty percent now that I think about it. Homelander was the one that decided to start wrecking cities and a bunch of government stooges were the ones that decided to blow up the world in response.” Call it twenty/thirty/fifty shares of responsibility.
Rumi looked like she wanted to argue. She really wanted to argue, but she squinted her eyes, her lips thinned, and she tilted her head. She knew I had a point, but she wasn't willing to concede that I did, so she changed the subject. “That doesn't bother you at all?” It sounded like a genuine question. One that she had been carrying with her for some time.
So, I gave an honest answer. “Not really. Don't get me wrong -- it sucks that the world ended and people died, but that was probably always going to happen. I just wanted to fight Homelander and topple Vought. Homelander decided to vent by going on a massacre. The idiots in charge of nuclear bombs decided to push the big red button. Everyone made a choice and the consequences of those choices was that the world ended.”
“And that's it?” Rumi questioned and I nodded.
“And that's it. Why?” I asked her, curious about what it mattered to her. I had lost a bit of the hero worship I had for her with exposure. She wasn't quite who I thought she was, but she still impressed me. She was still the woman that ripped her arm out of its socket to get to me, who fought with debilitating injuries for the sake of fighting.
“Because you're not quite the little shit that I thought you were and it bothers me. Half the time, you're normal and other times… I swung by the Gulch,” she informed after a brief pause. “I can smell that cunt's cunt on you. Asami said that it was her love child, but it happened on your watch, and that makes you responsible.” There was a growl in her voice that told me that she was less than pleased with what she saw there.
“I did say that I'm not the one you should talk to about necessary evils,” I pointed out, earning a glare. “It worked. Cinder ran it, made the calls, and because of how she ran it, it didn't matter how high we set the bar, she always delivered. Is it objectively fucked up? Oh, fuck yeah it is. But, like I said -- choices and consequences.”
Rumi scowled, “And if I jump over there and kill every slaver I see and split open the head of your whore?” She pressed and I didn't imagine for a second that she wouldn't do it.
“I'd be annoyed because I'm not done fucking with Cinder yet. In both senses of the word,” I clarified. “And then the slaver paradise would collapse. People would be freed. Then a lot of people would die on the other side of the portal.” And that was just the cold hard truth.
Was it better for a few hundred people to be enslaved so millions could survive? Maybe. Maybe not. It wasn't a question I had any intention of answering. I'd let people with much stronger moral compasses determine the answer.
I was free to do as I liked so long as I was willing to accept the consequences of my actions. Same with Rumi. The same for the slaves with collars around their necks. Sometimes, you only had bad choices, but two bad options was still a choice.
“Fuck,” Rumi cursed, summarizing her thoughts.
“Hm. So, what brings you by? I doubt it's for the pleasure of my company,” I said and Rumi glanced off to the Gulch. Then over at Taylor with her legion of insects and murderers that would soon be unleashed upon the wasteland. I could see her considering it for a long moment before she grimaced. That was good -- I was interested in seeing how Taylor would turn out and it'd be a shame to see her killed like a chump.
A sigh escaped her, “I owe you an outfit,” Rumi said making a smile break out over my face, and as happy as I felt she seemed equally annoyed. “A bet is a bet. I have enough fabric, but I need your measurements-”
I interrupted her by teleporting us over to a little tailoring store in one of the old buildings. It sold fabrics and armor. I'm pretty sure I gave the woman behind the counter a heart attack while Rumi frowned at me. I set my sword against the full-length mirror and stood on the little stool thing with my arms out wide, feeling positively giddy. Rumi seemed more exasperated than anything and with a roll of her eyes, she grabbed a measuring tape.
“You've never been to a tailor before?” She asked with some interest as she went to work, first gesturing for me to take off some of my clothes like my jacket and my pants. I don't think the pants were necessary based on her dull look, but I didn't bother putting them back on.
“I've always just worn what I could get my hands on. I was lucky to get two tank tops in winter growing up. Never got the chance to be picky,” I said and, almost in spite of herself, I saw that Rumi was checking me out. I couldn't blame her -- I was sexy as hell. I had always leaned more on the scrawny side because of my height, but thanks to spending the past year and a half with a very active lifestyle, I had started putting on muscle.
She saw me catch her checking me out and she made a deliberate show of rolling her eyes, “You know, the only thing more annoying than some prick overcompensating for a little dick is an asshole that's smug over having a big one.” Rumi remarked, taking my measurements.
I just chuckled in response, taking the compliment that she hadn't intended to give. “How did you get into fashion? It didn't strike me as a hobby you'd have,” I pointed out as she measured the width of my biceps, the length of my arms and shoulders. I didn't know enough to say if it was professionally competent, but she felt pretty familiar with the movements.
Rumi let out a dismissive snort. “You say that like you know me at all,” she pointed out and I cocked an eyebrow.
“That's mostly because of the you wanting me dead thing,” I felt compelled to point out and a grimace passed over her face as she was reminded. “I don't mind. People live, people die.”
Her hands hesitated as she wrapped the tape measure around my waist. “Most people take trying to kill them more personally,” she noted and I shrugged.
“There aren't that many things in the world worth caring about, and death isn't one of them,” I replied and, I was surprised to see that the words resonated with her. However little she let it show. “Everyone dies someday. I mean, I don't want the ride to be over any time soon, but it's not like I'm living a risk free life. I figure, sooner rather than later, someone or something is going to get me. If you're lucky, it could be you,” I said with a smile.
Rumi held my gaze for a long suspicious moment, searching for any sign of deceit. She didn't find any because I was being honest. She let out a small sigh, “Law?”
“Hm?” I hummed in response, noting that it was the first time she had ever called me by my name. And that she had dodged the question about how she got into this hobby.
“You're the craziest bastard I've ever met.”
“Thank you.”
…
“That whore. How dare she. How dare she attempt to usurp my position!” Cinder raged, grabbing fist fulls of Starlight's blonde hair while she ground her pussy across her face, smearing Law's cum over her favorite toy. The pleasure was negligible, a pale shadow on the wall in comparison to what Law's touch could offer, but it wasn't about the pleasure. It was about power and humiliation.
Cinder grit her teeth, outrage flowing through her veins. Starlight endured the rough treatment, as she had been trained to do. It was months of effort -- reducing her confidence and self worth, dominating her, sexually training her, and driving her to the point that she simply gave up hope and did whatever Cinder commanded. In this moment, Cinder imagined Starlight's blonde curls were brown. An ugly, gangly teenage face. No tits to speak of.
Yet she had been walking out of Law's office naked. Seducing him to usurp what was her's.
Cinder was almost impressed. She didn't think Taylor had had that in her. She struck Cinder as a shy, pathetic, wallflower. However, that praise was buried underneath a mountain of murderous rage.
“I should have put her in the stocks. Charge a cap to rape her worthless pussy,” Cinder growled. Rivers of cum would have flowed out of her holes. “I should have sold her to some raider scum,” she continued, enjoying the fantasy of it, but she knew the wiser course of action. What she should have done was keep a shorter leash on Taylor.
She should have dominated her like she did Starlight. Turning her into a pawn of the game of influence over Nuka-World. She should have dominated her, broken her, then gave Taylor as a gift to Law. He would think Taylor answered to him, but the girl would answer to her true master. A spy in his camp. A hidden dagger up her sleeve.
Instead, Cinder found herself with a rival. All because she wasn't ruthless enough.
All because Taylor, in a moment of weakness, had seemed so much like Cinder's old self.
Cinder let go of Starlight, her face smeared with cum with her eyes closed. Cinder gathered up saliva for a moment before spitting on the fallen heroine. Starlight didn't even flinch, simply going for some cloth to wipe her face, but Cinder spoke. “Don't. Leave it on, slut. This is your punishment for failure -- Taylor's position should have been yours, but you couldn't even manage to outseduce a fifteen year old girl.” The small wince that Starlight gave was a balm to Cinder's fury.
Taking a moment to compose herself, she lowered her dress so it once again fell just above mid thigh. A quick look in the mirror and a few touches had her looking presentable. Simply turning her back to Starlight, she marched out of her quarters, and got on the train that took her to where her army was waiting for her. Her half of an army. The other half would be there, the half that that slut stole from her.
They were arranged in neat rows, Cinder saw. Each of them were given two dozen vehicles to help with transportation. The frames came from the New World, but most of the parts were salvaged from the Old World. In them were supplies -- food, ammo, medical, and tools for repairs. Her half of the army came from the Gulch.
Her auctions had given her a great many connections across the wider Wasteland, and most of the Raiders or Fiends gathered underneath her banner. Especially when she promised to unleash them upon the Commonwealth to sack settlements that they had never dared to attack with such few numbers before. So, she had her pick of the most savage murderers, raiders, and rapists in the Wasteland.
Cinder turned a snarl into a smile when she saw Taylor. It wasn't easy when Cinder saw that her forces were being supplemented by insects to the point they could be considered two separate armies under her command -- lines of soldier ants, with bloatflies buzzing above them, blood suckers joining their count in smaller numbers. Each mutated insect was carrying Old World equivalents -- spiders, flies, and so on. It was almost a step too far. An insult that she couldn't bear.
The full army should have gone to Cinder while Taylor could have her insects. Perhaps she should have played her ace? As ruined as Starlight was, she still remained a virgin, though only in the barrest sense of the word. She should have offered a threesome to help tip the scales in her favor.
Taylor sensed her approach, her dark brown eyes meeting Cinders. Cinder forced herself to smile even though she wanted to carve out her eyes. Neither of them said anything as they both took their positions at the heads of their armies.
It was then that Law arrived. He appeared on top of one of the buildings, and Cinder immediately stood straighter. Law wore an easy smile, his gaze flickering over Cinder and Taylor first, though it lingered on Starlight. The smile grew a fraction while he raised an eyebrow, and behind her, Cinder could feel Starlight burning with humiliation.
With a foot propped up against the ledge of the building, he spoke, “You all know what this is and what we're doing, so I'm not going to bother reminding you. Your goal is to secure territory for future settlements -- so, if you come across an occupied space that could house a thousand people or so, be gentle when relieving the natives of their homes. You'll be living in them, after all.”
Cinder smiled -- her estimation of Law had yet to be proven inaccurate. He was a cunning leader. A ruthless one. He didn't coach mercy or try to moralize with those that possessed no such morals. He simply pointed in a direction and gave an order.
“Expect resistance. The people of this world survive it because they’re tough enough to. You’re better armed, armored, and you outnumber them -- so, if you get killed, that’s on you,” he continued before his gaze shifted to the horizon. “A lot of you are a bunch of savage bastards, so I’m not going to try to motivate you by saying some shit like millions of lives depend on you. You don’t care. Instead, I’ll tell you this -- winners are rewarded. So, go out there and win.”
To a crowd of murderers, strung out drug addicts, raiders, rapists, and slavers -- that was the single greatest rallying cry he could have made.
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