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I sit across from the farmer, within arm's reach, still wearing my leather gear and my fat-rimmed goggles on my forehead. I've taken off my combat boots at his door, trying to be respectful and not tracking mud all over the place; it's enough of a hovel as it is. After I sit, I peel off my socks as well, and relief spreads through my feet. The smell of my sweat rushes out like a puff of invisible smoke and is gone just as fast.

“I think this will be a good deal for everyone,” he says. “It will give your settlement the space it needs for the irrigation ditch, and my people will have protection.” He rubs his graying beard, and I'm suddenly aware of my own quick breathing.

He's right: with the technology my settlement – New Polina – can provide, the farmers in the Valley will be safe from radiation. Since we developed this tech, more minor settlements have integrated into ours, allowing us to broaden our ability to create food, pump clean water out of the earth, and put together safe homes for families. At this rate, we might rebuild the entire country. The next generation of children may never need to hear the story of the nuclear catastrophe that led us to this.

When I stretch my legs out and rest my heels on the moth-eaten ottoman, the farmer gently runs a finger along the soles of my feet. A tingle shoots up my spine, because I know I will soon be face down with my naked ass in the air, letting him have his way. Most of these small-time “leaders” want a little something extra for their cooperation, even in times this desperate.

My body armor and travel gear are humped on the floor, and the breeze whips from a hole in the window over the curve of my back. The farmer's cock slams into my asshole, and with these rigid thrusts, I know he's close. My toes poke over the edge of his bed.

“I heard rumors about you,” he says with his teeth gritted, holding off as long as he can. “But I wasn't sure.”

“They're true,” I whisper. My cheek is pressed against his pillow, and he doesn't hear me. Soon, he grunts, shudders, and releases a load of cum into my ass. I was going through the motions this whole time, just letting him do his thing, but I can't help but moan as he fills me.

Finally, he pulls out. When I make eye contact, he waves me away, and I feel my cheeks flush. I walk to the bathroom and push out his cum, careful not to drip on the floor. The tiles are cool. I wonder what Cynthia's doing while she waits for me to negotiate the deal, having no idea the negotiation involved...this.

When I'm clean, I walk naked from the bathroom and approach my gear. The farmer is standing, waiting to open the door for me.

“How many deals have you sealed that way?” he asks.

“I don't know,” I say, getting dressed and not looking at him. “I spend most of my time in the restricted zones, fighting off radiation-infected psychos. Not a lot of time to keep count.”

I wonder how weird it is to think of someone as an infamous rebel hero, then have them bent over so easily.

“So when you're not out doing that,” he says, “you'll be here with your ass open whenever we need you to?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

He opens the door. Armed again, I leave. The wind has died down.

I find Cynthia, still wearing her gear, training her crossbow on a nearby windmill. Her kevlar is unzipped.

“You shouldn't be exposed out here,” I say.

She spins around at the sound of my voice. “Why can't I get used to the sound of your footsteps?” she says.

“You were concentrating.”

She kisses me.

I met Cynthia on the road, back when I was still finding myself, gazing over the wasteland and figuring out how I could contribute to the repair effort. We started a small crew, did a few scavenging jobs for chump change, and professed our love for each other in a tent outside the Tattered City. That was the day I made an enemy of Byron Bolvek, boss of the airship raiders hovering over the city, forcing the people to live off the garbage he and his army tossed over the side of their hulking, airborne fortresses. If there had been a chance back then, I'd have ended Bolvek and released his grip on the city. New Polina would never reach its full potential while those fools were up there, sucking resources dry.

In the tent, I promised Cynthia I'd save myself for when we got married. As we stand here now, chatting, two women in love, I feel a drop of the farmer's cum leak out of my hole. When she and I finally have sex one day, maybe she'll just think I'm a natural.

Somehow, every settlement leader knows about my willingness to give up the ass, and few of them fail to exploit it. I've swallowed loads of cum, had my ass filled to the brim and pushed out the semen in front of roomfuls of people. Occasionally, female leaders have their way with me too. Once, a middle-aged woman laid me on my back, placed her foot on my chest, and just stood there. Fulfilling people's fantasies (or just helping them drain their tanks) had become instinctive to me, and something that continued to fascinate me as I went forward.

I bite my lip.

She puts her arm around my waist. “You're the best, Marna,” she says. “Do you know that?”

I nod and kiss her again.

This evening, the inner circle of New Polina meets at our HQ, a hollowed-out museum that somehow survived the bombs falling. We stand around an old wooden table, munching on de-radiated meat and taking small sips of water from ceramic mugs.

Max, governor of New Polina, speaks first.

“Your contributions have all gone a long way,” they say, fiddling with a hair tie. We all know that when Max puts their hair back, it's time to get serious. “But a matter has come to my attention. Inventory has developed a consistent shortage, which means that small chunks of resources are being siphoned off by someone in our ranks. Any ideas?”

Everyone holds their breath. My eyes dart to Ailbe, the new girl, with her short black hair and standoffish personality. She's gripping her crossbow as if waiting for someone to attack us. What's she so nervous about?

“Just think about it,” Max says, then looks to me. “Marna, I need to talk to you separately.”

The group disperses, including Cynthia, who will be waiting just outside. The only person who remains is Ailbe, looking like some glorified bodyguard.

“Why's she sticking around?” I ask.

Max gives me a mothering look. “Because I want her to stay. She's coming along with you and Cynthia on this mission.”

Really? Someone this green? Max must see something in Ailbe that I don't. But I also know that she's the only person in the room I don't trust, the only one who could have been sent here to sabotage New Polina.

Max founded this place, and they've never steered me wrong before. I'm not about to start doubting them now.

“We can't sustain this anymore,” Max says to me. “Bolvek and the airship raiders have to go, if we're going to survive. You're going to blow them up.”

“Why me?”

“You three have the most diverse set of skills out of anyone here. Just look at these people, and the citizens of the Tattered City. They're exhausted. No one's going to put up a fight. Besides, Bolvek expects a widespread revolt, not a small group of saboteurs, least of all a group led by his mortal enemy.”

“He's scum,” I say, remembering the day we first met. I gave him his scar. We nearly fought to the death. Maybe now, if we make it to the city, I can finish what I started.

The whole time Max speaks, Ailbe stands stock-still, her lips closed, absorbing all of this.

When Max leaves us, Ailbe touches my hand. “Good to be working with you.”

She's going to be a tough shell to crack. But my life depends on her now.

On the third day, we're camped by a ravine, and Cynthia is sitting on my lap. I can feel the heat from her butt through my pants, and I'm turned on as hell. We're about a day's walk from the Tattered City.

Cynthia runs a finger through a cord of my hair as Ailbe approaches us, returning from a pee break.

“Not much for miles,” she says. “I hope you've got two days' worth of snacks left.”

I picture the heap of dried pineapple and hardtack in my knapsack. “It's only a day's walk,” I say.

“Not with the rain that's coming.”

So she's in touch with the weather, too. It's useful for our team, but there's still something about her. I don't know.

“Where'd you come from, Ailbe?” It's Cynthia who asks this time, maybe doing the work for me.

Something like a smirk cuts across Ailbe's face. I wonder if she's comfortable enough around us to share.

“My home looked sort of like this,” she says. “Couldn't see anything but sand and dust clouds all around, no fruit trees, no game to hunt – nothing safe to eat.”

Cynthia looks enamored. I pinch her hip.

Ailbe goes on: “But here I am. I made it. My mother and sister didn't, though. I barely remember their faces anymore.” A pause. “I guess that's not important. What's important is taking down Bolvek and giving the people a chance. They're counting on us.”

“You have no one from your old life left?”

“No,” she says, “unless you count Lucy. She was my best friend until she met Bolvek.” Ailbe shifts her weight, grips the hilt of her weapon, then continues. “I was with Lucy through it all. Her coming out, her hormone therapy, the long nights of talking about ourselves. Now she's his lieutenant. Working directly against us. Stomping on good people.”

This is useful intel. This Lucy sounds like exactly what we're fighting. I'll have to remember to take her out before I make Bolvek beg for mercy.

The rain hits, just like Ailbe said it would. We're in the vicinity of Irina Village, a broken-down suburb of the Tattered City, and my leather is soaking through to my skin. My hair is a matted mop. I pound on the outer gate of the town with my gauntlet. A pair of eyes appears from behind the tiny metal flap.

“What do you want?” a male voice says. “We don't want refugees or any of Bolvek's flunkies. Piss off.”

“We're from New Polina,” I say, hoping I look like the commanding presence I should be regarded as.

“Oh,” he says, looking me up and down. “That changes things.”

Soon, the door is open, and I'm face to face with a middle-aged man who reminds me of the farmer from earlier. “This way,” he says, and we're in.

The mayor of Irina Village asks Ailbe and Cynthia to remain outside. I give them the okay.

“Welcome,” the mayor says. “Marna, is it?”

“Yeah. I see my reputation precedes me.”

“Very much so.”

The mayor is in her late forties, blonde with threads of gray at the roots. “You know,” she says, “the people of the Tattered City and Irina will do whatever they can to support New Polina's cause. Say the word, and we'll have a militia at your back.”

I've stripped out of my soaked leather, and am drip-drying in my underwear by the woodstove.

“That would be extraordinarily useful,” I say. “Not for this mission, but after my infiltration team seizes control, we're going to need a force to have our backs while we rebuild. Never know how many loyalists will come after us, or if Bolvek's army will stay organized once he's gone.”

“I imagine it will just be stragglers,” she says. She gazes down at my butt, and I'm suddenly aware that I don't even know her name.

She strokes one of my cheeks. “You've been all over the place,” she says. “done so many unspeakable things in the name of the people. That's admirable.”

I think I know what's coming. I hope Cynthia is a good distance away.

The mayor kisses me, and I don't resist. Her lips are soft, inexperienced. I wonder how long it's been since she got laid.

Soon, my underwear is off, her clothes are humped in the corner, and we're on her bed. She plants kisses on my neck, then stops. “No,” she says. “Put your panties back on.”

Well, this is a new one.

I do as she says, preparing to leave. Maybe the deal is off.

“Now,” she says, get your ass back over here.” I get on the bed, bend over in front of her, and she inches my panties down, slowly, taking in the view of my ass. “Mmm,” she moans. “Shake it.”

I shake my ass a little, more humiliated than I've been in a while. I feel my cheeks flush again.

She slowly inserts a finger into my pussy, and another into my asshole. Her breathing becomes heavy as I open for her. She whispers, “I've never been with a woman.”

I turn my head so we make eye contact. “I'll take care of you,” I whisper back.

She fingers me in both holes until I start to lubricate. “Fuck,” I moan, and she giggles. My moaning must have told her she's doing a good job. With her other hand, she gently caresses the rest of my body – thighs, ankles, feet – as if appreciating me.

Eventually, we shift to sixty-nine, with me on top, legs spread over the mayor's face. Her toenails are covered in chipped blue polish. As we lick one another, she says, “Tell me about other deals you've made.”

I lift my mouth above her dripping pussy, and I start fingering her. “I once let a biker gang cum all over me for money.” We used the cash to purchase New Polina's first generators, but she doesn't need to know that now.

“Mmmph,” she moans, getting slippery down there. “More.”

“I was double-penetrated by the leaders of an outlaw town.” Then they became bodyguards for our elderly.

“So dirty,” she says. She's very close now. She squeezes one of my ass cheeks.

“I let a girl's father fuck my asshole every day for two weeks, and then let her fuck me too. She never knew about me and her dad.” The dad donated our newest water pumps; the daughter became the pointwoman of our first hunting party.

“Ffffff – ” She lets out a long breath, then convulses with pleasure. I keep pumping my finger into her until she finishes cumming, then I roll off the bed. She should be satisfied now.

“Wait,” she says, panting. “Don't you want to – ”

“Snuggle? No, I'm taken.”

“I mean don't you want to cum.”

“It doesn't matter if I cum.” It's half true. No one's made me cum in a year. Most of them don't even try; it's just about me fulfilling my end of the deal. I appreciate her asking either way.

I put on a set of dry clothes. The mayor blows me a kiss, and I'm gone.

A few hours outside the Tattered City, we squat in the decrepit upstairs unit of a family home. Ailbe stands guard outside the front door, while Cynthia and I prepare to turn in. She runs a finger across my lip, and a fire ignites beneath my navel.

It's been a long time since I had an orgasm, and I want the next one to be from someone I love.

“We could,” I say to Cynthia. “Right now.”

“I'm saving you,” she says, though I can sense that her blood is flowing too. Eventually, we decide to put a wall of blankets between us as we sleep, to keep from touching one another. Our fingers flutter together and we giggle about it. Soon, her breathing becomes slow and measured, and she drifts off. I follow, thinking of the future.

When I awaken, my ears are clogged, and the air smells different. I'm lying on white linens in a spotless suite, unlike anything I've seen since before the catastrophes began. I look down at my body: naked, save for a black thong.

“Good, you're up,” says a deep woman's voice. I lift my arms to cover my breasts. “I'm sorry we have to meet like this, Marna. Byron's orders.”

“You work for Bolvek? Where the hell am I?”

“The Tattered City, of course. You were coming here anyway. We helped you out.”

I get a good look at her: long, black hair, eyeglasses, a plaid button-down shirt. About my age.

She looks me over – my outstretched legs, bare everything – and I'm suddenly aware of how exposed I am. Her voice becomes gentler. “Listen, Marna. I know what you must be thinking.”

“You have no fucking clue what I'm thinking,” I snap. “Let me out of here.”

Her composure doesn't crack. She writes something on a tiny clipboard. “I'm really hoping we can just talk, Marna.”

“Stop saying my name.”

She looks up from what she's writing. “Right,” she says. “You don't even know mine yet. I'm Lucy.”

The one Ailbe talked about. She must have drugged me in my sleep and dragged me here. Yet another bitch I'll soon be collecting vengeance on.

“I know all about you,” I say.

“You really don't,” Lucy says, “but we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other. You'll be here for a bit.”

“The hell I will. Why did you pervs put me in this...” I indicate the thong. “Whose is it?”

“It's your now. Don't remove it.”

“Don't order me around.”

She sighs. “You get used to being ordered around in this place. It's not always pleasant, but it's home.”

I stop snapping back at her for a second, and I can hear a steady hum above the building.

Lucy notices. “Ah,” she says. “The Andrade. That's Byron's airship. The gem in the crown, as it were. We're in its base. Maybe you'll get to ride it someday.” She looks up, as if seeing the airship through the domed ceiling, and then comes back to reality, maybe remembering I'm here. “Anyway, the thong. It's a very silly flourish, I'll admit it. But Byron will be the one to take it off you, when you submit to him. His idea.”

“Submit to him? You have to be kidding. If he comes in this room, I'm finishing what I started.”

She smirks. “Okay. You do that.”

Soon, she's gone, and I'm alone.

In the morning, Lucy returns.

“Time to shower,” she says. “You were so dirty when we found you that you barely passed our decontamination tests.”

Beginning to accept my situation – or at least the fact that I'm here, and will need to cooperate if I'm going to plan an escape – I stand and allow her to lead me to the showers. She gazes down at my chest.

“Hey,” I say. “We going to clean me up, or what?”

“Oh,” Lucy says. “Yeah.”

We move along the hallway, and I scan the faces of the armored soldiers who pass us, looking for Bolvek, waiting for my chance.

“So,” Lucy says as we reach an alcove, “you know Ailbe? How is she?”

“You tell me.”

She seems genuinely confused, but simply shrugs.

When we reach the whitewashed shower room, there is complete silence. Lucy's rich voice breaks it. “I haven't talked to Ailbe in forever,” she says. “Is she alright?”

“Cut the act. I know she sold me out to Bolvek.”

“Marna...no.”

She starts the water for me, runs her hand under it to check the temperature. I tuck this gesture away in my mind.

“Is that good for you?”

I run my fingers under the streams. “Yeah. That's fine.”

After I step in, she gives me some privacy. I hear the door latch shut behind her. I begin to work my way through where exactly in the city I am, how I can get out, what Cynthia is thinking right now.

But hot water does feel good. A layer of old grime washes away and swirls around the drain.

In a few minutes, Lucy knocks on the door, then comes in. “Alright, movie star,” she says. “Time for your closeup.”

Back in my room, Lucy instructs me on where to sit, to present myself to Byron Bolvek, my enemy.

“I'm not going to submit to him, Lucy.”

“Yeah, you will,” she says casually. “Everyone does.”

The automated metal door slides open, and I shudder a little. Lucy puts her hand on my back, tangles a length of my hair. “It's okay,” she says. “I'm right here.”

Bolvek walks in, surrounded by guards. He's wearing tall boots, a wool coat, and a patch over the eye I took.

“Marna,” he says. “It's been too long. I thought you'd be in combat gear the next time I saw you.”

“I'm sure we can arrange that,” I bark. “Have your goons give me my stuff back, and I'll finish the job.”

“Such platitudes.” He shakes his head. He approaches me. “Get on your knees.”

“Fuck you.”

Lucy gives me a look that says things will get worse if I don't. I'm not sure why she cares.

Soon, I'm lowering myself down, the tile floor cold on my knees.

“Much better,” Bolvek says. “The people will be surprised to see their hero like this.”

I bite my lip, holding back the venom I want to spit.

He looks me over. I'm not sure what he's thinking – he's probably wanted to fuck me for ages, the perv. But there's no admiration in his eyes, just satisfaction.

“I guess I should make you feel like less of a foreigner,” he says, then shrugs out of his jacket, his shirt, his trousers. His chest is smooth and covered in wolf tattoos. The bulge in his briefs presses forward, inches from my face now. “Are you ready to take your rightful place?”

“And where's that, asshole?”

“On your knees, sucking my cock, of course.”

“Fuck off.”

He smiles, unfazed, then gets dressed. “Lucy, take care of this one. I'll be back to visit her tomorrow.”

Soon, he's gone. Lucy nods, no expression. Then I'm alone.

Throughout the evening, I am shown videos of Bolvek fucking several women in this very chamber. One is a steely-looking blonde who looks like a warrior. They all begin with a confident resolve, but even the blonde eventually gives in, and his cock penetrates all of their asses. I admit that the videos get me wet, but it's been a while since I actually touched anyone.

I notice that the women in the video are all wearing the thong I'm wearing now.

Lucy enters when the videos are done, and asks how I'm doing.

“I'm not sure what that was supposed to do,” I say.

“Well,” she says, looking down at my thong, “you lubricated.” She taps her clipboard, maybe thinking of a topic. “Your time here doesn't have to be so bad, you know. Soon, Byron's going to own everything outside the Tattered City.

She doesn't seem enthusiastic about it. Why is she here, then?

“Times were difficult,” she says, as if reading my mind. “What was I supposed to do? I couldn't go back to the person I was. The person who couldn't stand to see herself in the mirror. Bolvek had what I needed. I thought letting him take control of the City would just be icing. But now I've got job security I never asked for.”

“Did he fuck you?”

“He's never touched me. He needed someone intelligent, and I needed to do what I needed to do.”

She's looking me over. I've been naked for so long that I almost forgot.

“I'm glad you found yourself,” I say. She's let her guard down. She looks more human than ever. “You seem like a good person. I could have used you back in New Polina.”

She smirks. “I don't know what kind of farmer I'd be.”

We go on like this for a while, then she pulls a deck of cards from her jacket, and we play a few rounds of poker until the night fades into morning.

As she cleans up the cards, our fingers touch. I think I can see a swath of red appear across her cheeks.

“I...I'll be back to check on you in a few hours,” she says. She stands, looking professional, and heads to the door. Before it closes behind her, she gives me one more look.

Later, Bolvek enters my room, already disrobed. I stand.

“No guards today?” I ask, trying to taunt him a little.

“None needed.” He touches my hip. His palm is warm against my skin.

“You could put some clothes on,” I say.

“Again, none needed.”

I look down at his bulge, which grows slightly as he gazes over my topless form.

I ask him what happened to the women in the videos, the ones who wore this thong before.

“Don't worry,” he says. “It was washed before it was given to you.”

“That's not what I'm worried about.”

“The women were released after they'd served their purposes. Of course, none of them were like you. No rebels, no heroes. Just women who struck my fancy. But the thrill was in the submission, in the moment they all knew they needed to...serve me.”

“So you owned them.”

“Still do. They'd come back to me if summoned. Did it turn you on to see them submit to me?”

He already knows the answer. Lucy would have reported to him by now.

“And you're next, Marna.”

Lucy enters, this time with a video camera. She looks depressed. Something's bugging her. She takes off her shoes and sits at the head of my bed.

“Don't count on it,” I say. “We've been through this. Might as well get your other henchwoman in here to try her luck.”

“Who?”

“Ailbe.”

Bolvek's face wrinkles. He looks to Lucy, as if to ask who I'm talking about. Lucy gives him nothing.

“What a pitiful bitch you are,” Bolvek says to me. “Cynthia is our agent. She's the one who betrayed you.”

“What?”

“She's been stringing you along for months, playing a part. Everything she told you about her background is true: the poor gutter-rat thing was never an act. But gutter rats need money. Rebuilding was taking too long. People don't have to believe in what I'm doing to support my rule. People are selfish. They'll do what benefits them in the moment, even if it screws everyone in the long term.”

My heart is racing. Cynthia? An agent? How much of it was an act? The naive, virginal nonsense was all made up? Did she know I was fucking behind her back?

I want to spit another insult, a clever retort, but I know, deep in my chest, that Bolvek is telling the truth.

Lucy has the camera rolling now.

“But I've seen that this Tattered City can never really be unified under me, since you've done such a great job of convincing everyone that they can be self-sufficient. So I'm going to take the Andrade and leave this place, for good. Your people will be left alone.”

I look him in the eyes. I have no words.

“You know what you have to do to make this happen. You are a whore at heart. And you will be my slave. Give up your ass. Now.”

He's unbelievable. All this, just to get that “moment” from me, to dominate me.

I turn toward Lucy. I bend forward, and the thong rides up my crack. My knees and palms sink into the bed. I'm on all fours.

Bolvek breathes in hard, then slowly inches my thong down and slips it over my ankles. I hear him toss his briefs aside, and he soon gets up on his knees behind me, his form hulking over mine. He rubs his cock between my butt cheeks.

“Look into the camera.”

I do it.

“What are you, Marna?”

“A pathetic bitch,” I say.

Bolvek produces some kind of fancy lube from a drawer, and gets me ready for him. Ignoring my pleasure, thinking only of his own lust, he slowly enters my asshole, picking up speed as soon as he starts thrusting. My tits flap and flap and flap.

I keep eye contact with the camera lens.

“Tell them,” Bolvek says, panting as he fucks me. His cock is huge and hard, showing me no mercy. “Tell everyone what's happening. The whole world will see this.”

“Byron Bolvek is fucking my ass,” I say. “I am his whore, and he owns me.”

I feign enthusiasm into the camera, but Bolvek feels just like every other obligatory fuck I've ever had. No chance of me cumming, ever.

He finishes by shooting his load over my ass cheeks. Some of it gets on the small of my back. When he pulls out, he admires his work. I know enough to stay bent over.

“My crowning conquest,” he says. I can feel my ass gaping. “Don't you think you're my crowning conquest?”

“Yes, Master,” I say.

My new master laughs. “Eat my cum,” he commands.

I rub some of his cum off my ass before it drips down the center, and I suck on my own fingers. It's coppery, bitter. I swallow all of it.

“Do you want to eat the rest of it, my whore?”

“Yes, Master.”

He takes a satisfied breath. I know that I need to address him respectfully from now on, to acknowledge his dominance. Why did I think I could resist?

My master rubs his cock on my butt until it's covered in semen.

“On your knees, please.”

I kneel before him. Lucy follows with the camera. His cock is soon in my mouth, and I swallow his entire load of cum.

“Do you feel like a rebel warrior now?”

“No, Master.”

“What do you feel like?”

“Your anal bitch, Master.”

He smiles. “And which is your true self? The warrior or my anal bitch?”

I make eye contact with him. “I am your anal bitch. I never want to be anything else.”

“You should be thanking me for allowing you to achieve your true purpose.”

I feel my head lowering, and soon, I'm bowing down to Byron Bolvek, naked on the cold floor. “Thank you, Master. I hope I will be a worthy slave.”

There's a drop of cum on the floor in front of me. I touch my tongue to it and lick it up. Can't waste my master's seed.

He gets dressed and leaves. I wonder when he's going to pull the airship away, whether he's going to take me with him.

I look at Lucy, expecting her to wear a look of smug satisfaction behind the camera. But she looks pained. Disappointed.

“Lucy, I – ”

Without a word, she shuts off the camera and leaves the way she came.

My master fucks my ass twice a day, first in the morning, and the only breakfast I'm allowed to have is a load of his cum. Midway through the day, Lucy enters and makes sure I'm prepared for the evening fuck, getting me prettied up and clean. She continues to monitor my showers, but she doesn't talk to me as much as she did before.

“Lucy,” I say to her one evening when I get out of the shower. She wraps me in a towel and avoids eye contact.

“He's waiting,” she says. “We'll talk another time.”

For at least a week, she says that. I begin to wonder when Bolvek is going to cease his attack on the Tattered City, relinquish his dominion. Maybe I'll ask him when he comes in.

I stand nude in front of my mirror, touching myself up with perfume, doing my nails, ensuring that I'm exactly how he wants me. When he comes in, I get down on my knees and bow my head to the floor. He takes some time to enjoy the view, to soak in the fact that I have finally surrendered.

“Rise, whore.”

I lift my head, but I do not stand. He touches my chin, then guides me to his cock, which I suck with abandon.

“What do you want out of life, Marna? If you could choose anything?”

I briefly remove him from my mouth.

“I want to serve you, Master.”

I'm his property now. Property doesn't have to make choices. Property doesn't have to get its heart broken.

I start sucking his balls, and his cock rests on my forehead.

Eventually, he bends me over. As always, he does not attempt to please me, to include me, to do anything but get off on his own ego. I know I need to serve him, but it feels like we made a bargain that he's not upholding.

He removes himself from my ass, then lies on his back and points to his hard dick, which is covered in the moisture from my hole. Without hesitating, I vigorously suck him, as rough as he likes it.

“Oooh,” he moans, close to cumming. “A bitch in her natural habitat. This is what you were meant to do.”

“Yes, Master.”

“The ultimate submission is a woman sucking a cock after it's been in her behind, don't you think?”

“Yes, Master. I submit to you.”

He explodes, shooting cum over my face and onto his chest. I lick up the dots where they land.

Breathing hard, he pets me. I hope he considers me a good slave. Resigning myself to the fact that I might never be able to leave his side, even after he calls off the attack, I'm starting to fully believe in this: in Bolvek as my master, in my submission to him. For now, I'll retain a small part of myself, in case I ever get out. In the meantime, I will serve.

Lucy enters the room.

Bolvek says, “Maybe I should have you suck Lucy's cock. What do you think?”

Lucy takes a step back, maybe hoping this is a joke. She's angry at him. This is some kind of violation.

When she doesn't play along, he gets serious. He keeps petting me as he addresses her.

“I didn't call you in here, Lucy. I'm playing with my slave. My slave values her alone time with me, don't you, slave?”

“Yes, Master.” I don't look at Lucy as I say it.

“I...I know,” Lucy says, oddly wavering. She composes herself. “I want to get the cleanup underway as soon as possible. I'm pulling double duty on the command deck.”

“Very well.” My master stands, then looks at my cum-covered body. “Bow, slave.”

I kneel and bow at his feet.

“You really are the best servant I've had,” he says, “and the only one to call yourself my slave. I knew you'd see things my way eventually.”

I stay silent, my head still bowed. He hasn't told me to speak.

“Good girl.”

“Byron,” Lucy says. “Please.” There's an urgency in her voice. She wants him to leave, and it's not just because of her job.

He finally obliges, leaving me in my humiliation.

Lucy stands me up, cleans me, and makes my bed. This time, though, she stays with me. She unzips her jacket pocket, and deals the cards again.

“Still friends?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “Of course. Sorry about whatever happened back there.”

“Don't worry about it.” She looks at her hand, scrunches her face. “But Marna, you need to know that I would never try to make you do anything you didn't want to do. Not like him.”

“He's my master,” I say. “He gets to do what he wants to his slave.” I look down at my toes as I say it. Lucy's looking at them too, as if she wants to tell me that every part of me is beautifully made, and worth more than this.

“You're good at telling people what they want to hear,” she says.

She's onto me. But there's more, I think.

When we're done playing, we joke around a bit – about our past lives, about what we could have been if she'd not joined the Andrade, and if I hadn't been a freedom fighter who got caught.

Soon, it's time to quit for the night. When she's gone, I notice that she left the Queen of Hearts on my nightstand. On its face, she's written a message:

He's not canceling the attack. He played you.

Midnight comes. My mind races. The thought that New Polina is in danger pulls me out of this master/slave game, floods me with the person I was before, the warrior. I think of Cynthia, of the betrayal, how I harangued Ailbe, who was just trying to help me all along. And then there's Lucy. Confident, steadfast Lucy. Her pale skin, her lips, her lanky form. The way she looks at me. The way she tolerates me. The way I think she...

Wait. The keypad lock on my door isn't lit.

I pad to the door and try the handle. It's unlocked. Lucy wants me to follow her.

I slink naked down the hall, and eventually find my way to her room. I feel my heart-rate speeding up as my fist hovers in front of her door. Finally, I knock.

Lucy answers in a blood-red robe and bare feet.

“Marna. You came. I wasn't sure.” She risked a lot to get me here. She knows I know it.

I answer by pressing my lips to hers. One of her hands finds my hip, the other my cheek. She kisses back. Soon, our tongues are fluttering together. She lets out a tiny moan as she lightly squeezes my butt. I can tell she's wanted this for a while.

Soon, we're tangled in each other's arms on her bed. She flings the sheets off so we can see each other's entire forms. Neither of us want to miss a moment.

I slide my hand to her crotch, and she bites her lip. I don't think anyone's been down there in a long time. When she nods, I know it's okay to untie the robe. I move the red drapes to the side, and Lucy's hard cock is soon in my hand. My warmth must amaze her, because she throws her head back as I begin to gently jerk her.

“Suck me,” she whispers. But it's not a command. She doesn't want to rule me. We're going to fuck as equals.

I fit her between my lips, and I take in her glorious moans as my mouth soaks her. I stop when it feels like she's getting close to bursting.

“Your turn,” she says, gleefully nudging me onto my back. She lowers her face between my legs, and it's the first time in ages someone has gone down on me. Her tongue probes me, and I return her moans. The pleasure burns, almost a foreign feeling. I watch her ass wiggle in the air as she licks, and we both laugh when the licking becomes so much for me that I yank her long hair.

She crawls atop me, and we kiss one more time. I taste myself on her mouth, fresh as ever.

“Marna...” she says. I know what she wants. We both want it.

We switch places, with Lucy on her back and me straddling her. Her cock enters my pussy, and I can't keep my groan of shock inside. She grins up at me, I grin back, and then my hips start rocking. As we fuck, with her hands exploring every part of my skin, I lean forward, my breasts shaking over her face, getting as close to her as I can. We stare into each other's eyes, both amazed. For maybe the only time in either of our lives, we're making love as equals, as our true selves.

I feel something building inside me. Lucy mutters something over and over, almost like a foreign language. When I really listen, I recognize what she's saying: “Cum for me.”

I haven't had an orgasm in over a year. It doesn't take much longer for me to get there.

It hits me like a superheated wave. Lucy has to cover my mouth to keep my scream from reaching the ears of the guards down the hall. I shudder and vibrate, my breaths coming in tiny bursts. Her hand smells like sweat and perfume.

I roll to the side and recover. Lucy gently strokes herself, watching me, maybe proud that she was the one to break my orgasm fast.

My breathing slows. Then I feel Lucy's cock against my ass cheek. Time to give her the prize.

“What can I do for you, lover?”

“I want what everyone else has had,” she giggles.

I almost don't know what she means. Then she brings me to my knees and bends me over on all fours.

Here we go.

She gently lubes my asshole with her saliva, and then pushes her cock against it until I open for her. She rests the head there, breathing hard, taking in what's about to happen. When she pushes again, she's in. My rectum absorbs the length of her, and she slowly thrusts, trying to hold off cumming as long as she can. She wants to savor this. I want her to savor it, too.

The residual feeling of my own orgasm still saturates me, and I'm awash with pleasure as she edges herself inside my ass. She starts to pound me, not hard enough to hurt, and I feel my cheeks tapping her abs. She's balls deep.

The thought of Lucy in my asshole is too much for me, and I cum again, squealing my joy into the comforter. She arrives just as I do, covering her own mouth this time, keeping one hand curled around my hip so that I feel it when she cums. Her load of sperm rockets into me, and it's the most welcome thing I've felt in a long time. Please, I think to myself, Never stop. Cum in me forever, Lucy.

When she's done, she very gently releases herself from my butt. She kisses the small of my back. We giggle as she waits for the cum to drip out of me, but it doesn't. She must have gotten so deep in my asshole that it's all just going to stay there. Our lips find each other again.

“Lucy, I...”

“It's okay,” she says. “I told you I'd be here for you. And I'll never walk out on you again.”

Over the next few nights, Lucy and I continue meeting. She always makes me cum first, making sure I'm happy. On the second night, she says, “I want to do something you've never done before.”

I plant my ass alongside her on the bed, then cradle her dick between the soles of my feet. She makes eye contact with me, looking at me like I'm something out of mythology. I jerk her off with my feet, and as she experiences my softness on her, she loses control. The cum fountains out of her as she clutches the sides of the bed, groaning and shuddering.

Her cum looks good on my toes. We'll have to make that happen again.

On the third night, she enters me vaginally again while I lie on my back and hold her between my thighs like a vice. After she releases her load inside me, she moans, “I love you.”

I don't even need to think about it. “I love you too, Lucy.”

For just a moment, I'm able to forget Bolvek, able to forget that I don't have a plan for getting out of here and getting the airship away from the city. But Lucy's face, as joyful as it is at hearing me confess my feelings, has a determination behind it.

Bolvek enters my room for his morning fuck. He's unenthusiastic, distracted by something. Maybe he knows what's going on between me and Lucy.

He wordlessly bends me over and fucks my asshole as I say “Yes Master, yes Master” until he cums. His load is barely anything, and it drips out of my ass in no time.

“Taste your ass, slave.”

I kneel, arch my toes against the floor, and suck his cock. I hope wherever Lucy is, she can't see this.

“Do you want to be my whore forever?”

“Mmhmm.”

At some point, it was true: part of me wanted it. There was a comfort in it. But Bolvek is no different than he ever was: a deceitful bastard who's going to get what's coming to him.

“Bow.”

I do it. Maybe this will convince Bolvek I'm loyal just long enough.

But one thing is for sure: this is the last time I will ever let him touch me.

At night, I expect him again, but instead, Lucy comes in, her plaid shirt hanging open, oddly out of uniform. The ship's atmosphere feels different, as if it's about to move.

She's out of breath and gripping a black cloth bag, which she soon tosses onto my bed.

“For you,” she says, “if you remember what these even are.”

I open the bag. Inside, there's a white blouse, two dresses, a pair of dress pants.

Clothes. How long has it been since I got dressed? And these aren't mine. Well, maybe they are now, but they must be Lucy's.

“Lucy, what's happening? Where's Bolvek?”

“He had an accident.”

I won't ask her to elaborate. I don't care if he's in the brig or stuffed in a fridge somewhere.

“So then...”

“So I'm in charge now, Marna. And I say you get to wear clothes if you want to. I also say you don't have to remain in this cell anymore.”

She risked everything. For me?

“I thought you might want to take one last shower while I awkwardly stand outside,” she says.

I feel myself smiling. “I think we're past that point,” I say.

She brings me to the shower, but instead of standing like a sentinel and monitoring me, she joins. The shower is just spacious enough that she's able to wiggle her naked body in next to mine, and it's not long before our hands are all over each other. I bend forward with my palms against the wet tile, and she kneels to rim and finger me until I can't take it anymore. I cum for her, unafraid of letting my pleasure flow out in my voice.

When I turn to kiss her, she's still kneeling.

She lifts one of my feet, caresses the sole, and inserts my big toe into her mouth. She gently sucks while stroking herself, and I can't believe how pleased she looks. Her hair and skin are soaked by the spray of water, and as she gets close to release, I sit on the side of the tub and extend my feet, touching them together in front of her cock.

Finally, Lucy explodes in a flurry of moans, and shoots her semen all over my feet. I keep them extended, looking over what she gave me. It slides between my toes. We make eye contact and laugh.

I get dressed, savoring the feeling of fabric against my skin.

“You were right,” Lucy says as I follow her to the stairwell that leads to the deck of the airship, where I've never been. “New Polina is more of utopia than the Tattered City could ever be. You've done so much, Marna. For so many people. I hope that this...I hope that letting you go will somehow make up for what I've done.”

We stop at the hatch.

“Lucy, I'm not going back without you.”

She looks into my eyes, considers this.

“I'm not going anywhere without you either,” she says. “Ever again. I love you.”

We kiss, and with one hand, she opens the hatch. Air blasts in. We step out onto the deck. I haven't seen the sky in months. I almost forgot it was here. The breeze is ripe with possibility.

“Want to take a ride before we go home?”

Home. New Polina. Everyone waiting: Max, who will be proud of their number-one agent, having no clue what I went through. Ailbe, whom I owe an apology. Cynthia, who's probably long gone by now. But it's better that we don't see each other again. Maybe I'll heal faster that way.

I don't know. There's so much I don't know.

“Yeah,” I say. “Let's do it.”

Lucy relays a message to the ship's operators, and soon, we're lifting off, leaving the Tattered City to its own devices. Maybe one day, it will be tattered no longer.

As we sail into the sky, Lucy's hand curls around mine. The city gives way to mountains, trees, clouds. I think about how easy it would be to lose myself in this view. Hopefully, it will be just as easy to get myself back.