The Hunter's Pet: A Scifi Dystopian Romance

Growling, William pushed both their leggings down and thrust forward, ramming himself deep inside her. The intrusion was sudden, but welcome. Her body was already wet, had been since the tension in their conversation rose. William thrust deep inside her, the thick length of his cock plundering her tight channel with fast, hard thrusts which left her panting and moaning for more.

They were as two wild beasts, the female subdued and penetrated by the rampant male. William pushed her down and forward onto hands and knees and continued thrusting, spreading the walls of her pussy stroke after stroke.

Leaning over her, William fastened his teeth on the back of her neck. Her pussy spasmed in response, his large frame completely dominating her as his cock plunged in and out of her tender cunt, spreading her juices over the length. Releasing her neck with his jaws, he put one hand on each of her shoulders and began drawing her back and forth along his dick, riding her like a filly.

His grunts and growls mingled with her feminine moans of pleasure, filling the clearing with the sounds of their lovemaking. Sarah surrendered herself entirely to the moment, giving herself to him completely. He came quickly and without regard for her orgasm. She felt her pussy quivering as he unloaded his essence inside her, filling her up, claiming her completely.

“Are we clear?”

Panting, Sarah nodded. They were very clear. Even in his relatively weakened state, William was in control. She felt a sense of calm slipping over her; even though she had been denied the orgasm, she had been shown that she was still safe, still protected. Still his.

“Good,” he slapped her bottom and squeezed, causing a little more of his semen to slip out of her well fucked pussy. “Let's get going.”

They traveled another three days north, until William was satisfied that they had cleared the fallout zone and Sarah said that the radiation was light. A more permanent camp was set up outside an empty cave. Sarah thought it would be nice to live inside the cave, but William was not satisfied with cave dwelling. He insisted on building a house.

“As our ancestors did,” he said, striking two rocks together to create a sharp edge. “A wooden cabin will provide better protection from the elements, and we can incorporate stone as a foundation and as a fireplace.”

“Or we could live in the cave,” Sarah suggested. “Because the cave is already made.”

“We will not live in a cave any longer than we have to. Now do your weaving.”

Sarah had been entrusted with the task of weaving a fibrous stretch of material, which William intended to use as the base of a bed. The base was already made, fallen logs lashed together in a large rectangle, over which the weaving would be stretched.

“We could sleep on the ground,” Sarah suggested. “Save our labors for necessities.”

“A good bed is a necessity,” William replied, his bare biceps rippling as stone struck stone. “Now, no more arguments from you, please, we are setting up a proper home. We will not live like savages.”

“You think me a savage?”

“I think you lazy,” he said, giving her a look which brooked no dissent. “You want to do as little as possible.”

“And you want to fill our days with back breaking labor.” She cast the matting down and scowled at him. “There are plenty of comfortable hollows to curl up in.”

“And there are plenty of green branches I could use to whip your lazy bottom.”

“I don't think I have to worry about that. You'd spend three days making sure it was precisely the right branch and whittling it to perfectly fit your tender hand.”

“My tender hand?” He guffawed. “You want a whipping, don't you.”

“I want to enjoy the day. I want to have some rest. You never stop working.”

William wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Alright,” he relented. “We've made some good progress. Once I get this axe made, we'll make even faster progress. I'll have these trees down and we'll have a home of our own.”

“Yes, because there's nothing city folk like more than cutting down trees.”

“You really are riding for a hiding, aren't you, girl.” William gave her an even look, wiping his hands on his thighs.

Maybe she was. She was feeling very prickly and annoyed. It was the work. Being a hunter's pet was one thing. It meant running about, looking for food. It was at least interesting and in between hunts one got to rest. This homesteading garbage was different, a never-ending daily grind. She was not made for domestic chores.

“What's the problem, hmm? Is your cycle approaching?”

She lifted her lip and snarled at him. “My cycle has nothing to do with this... boring life you have us living.”

“Oh, you're bored, are you? Maybe I can un-bore you.” He stood up and moved toward her, rubbing his palms together.