Bargaining for survival Pt. 01

"Good. Now spread your legs."

"Excellent. Now bend over and touch your toes."

As Scarlett furiously complied with this obsence request, she was met with silence.

And yet more silence.

Scarlett felt utterly humiliated. She raged at her body as it betrayed her once again with an involuntary sexual response. She would never admit it, even to herself, but a deeply buried part of her craved exactly the sort of humiliation that she was currently being subjected to.

More than that, there was a depraved part of her brain that was craving the archer's cock. A part that was hoping that the next touch she felt was the forced parting of her pussy lips by the head of his shaft. The same part yearned to be forcibly taken by this man who held such power over her.

She wanted to deny this part of her any legitimacy, but her body had other ideas. She could feel juices from her sodden pussy running down the inside of her left thigh. She knew that these juices would be visible to the archer and would further weaken her already dire bargaining position. That she knew he could see evidence of her desire only further spun her into this vortex of arousal and her angry attempts to ignore or deny it.

For what felt like an hour (but was probably only 10 seconds or so) three strangers were staring intently at Scarlett's pussy and asshole. Scarlett knew this, and as her vivid imagination ran wild picturing the thoughts going through their heads, she felt more and more liquid leaking from her. She was utterly humiliated, and deeply, deeply turned on.

"We have a need for breeding and pleasure slaves in the community. Perhaps inevitably, more men reach us than women. Both for the purposes of growing the community, and to allow our council members a much needed release of tension, we can see a use for you. Come with us."

As Scarlett stood up and turned around, she gasped. Clearly it wasn't only her that had been turned on by the position that her body had been forced into. Three rock hard cocks greeted her; the archer's was only inches from her belly button.

And it was gorgeous. Thick, veiny and oh-so-long. She had seen it earlier from a distance on the wall, but up close she could truly appreciate its magnificence. Try as she might, she couldn't will her eyes to look away. The foreskin had receded, revealing a bulbous purple head that had her slowly licking her top lip without any conscious awareness on her part.

After a fierce internal battle she dragged her eyes up to the archer's face. She was rewarded by a look of such intensity that electricity shot straight from her nipples to her clit. The archer was staring at her staring at his cock. His smouldering eyes had lost all trace of disdain or condescencion; instead she saw only desire.

"You must be tired," he said gruffly. "Come. Rest. We can make the arrangements for your service to the community later."

---

The warnings about nuclear attack had come utterly out of the blue. Scarlett had been lazing around in the garden chatting to friends, whilst Jeff had been in the Lake District hiking.

The first inkling that something odd was happening was when everyone's phone pinged simultaneously. Even more odd was that Scarlett's had done so, as she habitually put her phone on vibrate. Yet she had very clearly heard a notification sound.

A little grumpily (she was convinced that her phone was becoming more invasive over time) she checked that it was switched to silent.

It's already on silent. How weird. Then she noticed the notification on the screen. Holy. Shit. This must be a prank.

//REMAIN IN YOUR HOME. CLOSE ALL WINDOWS AND DOORS. YOU MUST NOT LEAVE FOR ANY REASON. BY ORDER, UK GOVERNMENT.//

"What's this about? Another wave of COVID? Surely we're all immune now?" Sam never took rules and warnings too seriously, it was typical of them to dismiss the warning instantly as something that could be ignored.

Scarlett was more cautious. "I think we should do what it says, at least for now," she said, as she moved into the kitchen. "But what on earth is going on?"

It didn't take long for them to find out. They moved swiftly through the house, closing windows and curtains, then congregated back in the dining room, where Scarlett turned on the radio.

++We have just heard confirmation from the Foreign Office that Russia has launched an all-out nuclear strike on targets in Western Europe. We repeat. Russia has launched nuclear missiles towards Europe. It is not yet clear which cities have been targeted.

If you live in London you should have received an evacuation order to your phone. Click the link in the notification for detailed instructions. If you live elsewhere in the UK, the instructions are to remain in your homes, with doors and windows closed.

We will update you as soon as we hear more. This message will now repeat.++

A stunned silence filled the dining room. Scarlett couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone find any form of speech. She felt a very strong sense that she must be dreaming, even as she knew she was not. Cold seeped up her spine.

Then it hit her. Jeff! He was deep in the Lake District.Does he even have his phone on? Will he have signal? Frantically she dialled his number but, of course, the mobile networks were completely jammed.

As the minutes and then the hours passed, they played a surreal waiting game. Radio updates and notifications updated them on the situation: every nuclear-armed European country had returned fire, and frantic attempts had been made to intercept the missiles heading their way.

But at 9:34 pm, the nightmare became horribly, inescapably real. The pictures of Paris being razed to the ground were kept off official news channels, but twitter was awash with horrific images.

Then the rioting started. At first, it was a noise in the direction of the centre of the city. Then a glow on the horizon. Before Scarlett had formed a coherent plan in her head, she was hearing gunfire a few streets over, and neighbours advised her to barricade her door and front windows.

Terrified, Scarlett and her friends sat in the upstairs bedroom watching the street until about 2am. At which point they made the decision to run.

Leaving the city was surprisingly easy; figuring that London might already have been hit, they raced in the opposite direction, west towards Cornwall. The roads were, thankfully, empty of traffic and they had the presence of mind to refuel from a pay-at-pump all-night Asda near Bridgewater.

By 6am they were on a beach in the depths of Cornwall, in an exhausted but fitful sleep in the van. There was a sort of unspoken acceptance that they would have to keep running, but no-one had voiced what to do next.

Still, when they saw the beach huts and fishing equipment they wordlessly started to build a raft (all the fishing boats had long since put to sea). The next few days was spent alternating between guarding the raft and scavenging the area for supplies.

When the attack had come, it had clearly been planned. Everyone but Scarlett had taken the van to a supermarket that was rumoured to still have supplies of tinned food; they already had some stored on the raft, but not nearly enough for all of them. Scarlett was guarding the raft alone; a risk, but one that they figured was reasonable given the weapons that they had recently acquired.

But Scarlett was no match for the tight-knit band of marauders who raced down the beach. Pinning them down by firing her handgun in the air, she knew she didn't have the skills to actually fight them off and so she had no choice but to push the raft out to sea.

She had intended to return to try to find her friends, once the attackers had left, but less than a quarter of a mile offshore she had hit a spring tide, and before she knew it she was ten miles down the coast.

Scarlett had felt inconsolably guilty. Especially when she checked her phone 48 hours later to see on the BBC that the UK, along with the rest of Europe, had become a radioactive wasteland. It was the last update she had had from the country that had so recently been home. She had no choice, then, but to head out to sea and hope to be rescued by a friendly vessel from a country that had not been hit.

---

Scarlett hadn't believed she would sleep. The combination of fear and horniness from the day's events had kept her on edge as she entered Newdawn with the archer, especially as she saw many more eyes on her naked body and many more cocks springing to attention. As the archer had intimated, the community was almost exclusively men and it was clear from the speed of their responses that sexual release was a commodity currently in short supply.

But a dark look from the archer had stilled many a man's move towards her and under his protection she had been taken to a well-appointed hut on the small island. Inside she found food and drinking water and a tiny bucket of fresh water to wash in. It felt like the most luxurious bath she had ever taken.

There was no lock on the door of the hut, but the archer had assured her that his authority would protect her from attack and, gradually, a deep tiredness had won out over the combined fear and horniness.

She awoke in a deeply confused state. Her dreams had been repeatedly filled with erotic images of Jeff. After over six years together during which time he had learnt all he could about her body and how to pleasure her, Jeff knew so many ways to turn her on.

The re-awakening of Scarlett's sexual appetite as a result of the previous day's events had left her subconscious mind yearning for Jeff's expertise. Her dreams had brought that expertise vividly to life.

In the first dream, Jeff had walked into the bedroom with a wicked grin on his face. He had instructed Scarlett to unbutton his tight white shirt and slide down his shorts. Scarlett had felt the familiar tingle of anticipation as she saw his impressive cock straining to escape his black boxer briefs. As she released it she immediately engulfed the head with her lips and Jeff's grunts of desire turned the tingle of anticipation into a flood of juices soaking her lace panties.

Jeff effortlessly lifted her body onto their bed and slipped her t-shirt over her head. Releasing her bra, he cupped and massaged each breast in turn, turning up the heat by approaching but not touching her bullet-like nipples. Trailing a hand down her stomach, he grasped her hips with a firm strength and eased off her leggings and panties in one go.

Scarlett had never been one to want a slow build-up and so she directed Jeff's fingers straight to her dripping pussy. He happily obliged and slipped one finger in, gradually building a rhythym that caused her insides to melt.

Right on cue, he removed his hand and sucked a second finger, before sliding both back into her. As he gradually built his rhythmic movements Scarlett felt her raw sexuality take over and her body started writhing under his touch.

Before long the need for intense sensation on her clit became overwhelming and she asked Jeff to let her turn over onto her front to use her bullet vibrator.

"Later" was Jeff's gruff reply as he kissed down the length of her body and replaced his fingers with his mouth. This was new; Jeff had been reading up on using his tongue and she knew he was keen to experiment.

Lying back, she felt an insistent pressure of his tongue on her clit as she felt his two fingers re-enter. She experimented in turn, finding that rocking her hips back and forward whilst Jeff pressed his tongue and lower lip hard on her clit worked wonders.

Scarlett had never cum from Jeff's mouth but in her dreamstate the combination of her fingers and tongue gradually caused her mind to slow and allowed her to lose herself in the delicious bodily sensations from his mouth and fingers.

As time seemed to drift away from her awareness, the sensations built into a familiar wave of pressure that signalled to her that her orgasm was approaching. As the first wave crashed over her she shuddered in delight knowing that, now that the dam had burst, she could cum three, four or five times more.

Once she had had her fill of orgasms, she directed Jeff's cock to her pussy and groaned with delight as he slid his cock in with no resistance. She was as wet as she could ever remember.

Jeff rocked forwards and backwards in a way that did wonderful things deep in her pussy, and then effortlessly flipped her onto her front, thrusting into her from behind in a way that he knew hit every spot.

It was a dream of deep pleasure borne of deep familiarity, and she relished the release.

The second dream was far rougher, just as Scarlett liked it to be. In this dream Jeff had caught her masturbating with one of her new vibrators. By way of punishment for pleasuring herself without him there, he tied her face down on the bed, with her legs spread wide.

With no warning, no consideration of her wishes, he rammed his cock deep in her pussy and pummelled her with the force of his thrusts. Scarlett's body was driven into the bed, pushing the air out of her lungs on every thrust.

The force of his sexual attack was overwhelming, and she could do nothing but lie there and take it, delighting in the lack of control. It was that thought of powerlessness, just as much as the relentless pleasure/pain of his thrusts, that build her sexual power towards a familiar crescendo.

But, just as she could feel the release building, Jeff pulled out and, walking round to stand in front of her face, ordered her to bring him off with her hands.

Scarlett had no chance to consider her reaction, torn between frustration at his punishing her by denying her release, and deeply turned on by being so completely in his power. Almost on auto-pilot, she did as he demanded and soon felt his cock thicken and harden. Thick ropes of cum covered her face and flew into her mouth. Jeff knew that this turned her on in the worst way and she delighted in the depravity of it.

This second dream was all very well whilst it lasted but, now that Scarlett was awake, she could feel the lack of release in her dream corresponding to a deep, desperate longing for real cock. Involuntarily, images of the archer's cock flashed across her awareness before she could angrily push them away.

As she got up groggily off the bed, she noticed a note on the makeshift bedside table: It is time for your initiation. The next two hours is a test to see if you are able to meet the needs of Newdawn. Failure will require you to leave the community immediately.

Scarlett's stomach dropped. She had arrived dehydrated and hungry. She was sunburnt and badly needed to tend to the wounds from the ropes yesterday. She knew that being forced to leave would mean certain death.

As she emerged in the morning light, her confusion grew. The drone that had been watching over her yesterday was hovering just out of reach and about 10 metres in front of her. A series of small compartments attached to the drone were visible, but all were closed. The drone had a small LCD screen, simply displaying the number 7.

Is this a timer? Do I need to prove myself worthy within 7 minutes? But the note said two hours? Finding herself unable to puzzle out the sight in front of her, she decided simply to explore.

As she walked ahead over the soft grass of the island, she saw groups of men from the Newdawn community staring back at her. She looked around in panic, but the archer was nowhere to be seen. (She registered too late that she had been looking to him for protection, and cursed herself).

The men noticed the same thing, and some of the bolder ones advanced towards her naked body. As she walked forwards, the drone matched her pace so that it remained in front of her but out of reach.

Scarlett whipped her head around, trying to keep a vigilant eye on all of the men around her. Yet she was still surprised when she felt the first touch to her ass. The man stroked her experimentally and she whipped around in panic. The man, surprised by the force of her reaction, also jumped back.

But others were soon bolder. Another man grabbed her hips and held on despite her struggling to escape. As the man lifted her bodily off the ground, she panicked, hitting and kicking blindly to try to dislodge the stranger's hold on her body.

But to no avail. Despite a satisfying grunt as her foot connected with the man's thigh and her fist with his shoulder, he held on grimly. He flipped Scarlett over his shoulder and carried her to a nearby tree trunk. Dropping her with her back against the trunk, he swiftly tied her hands togther with rope that went around the tree.

Scarlett was tied in such a way that she couldn't move without causing pain in one or both shoulders. After a futile struggle, she sat, defeated, staring at the man.

"Believe me, I'm breaking you in gently. If you want to pass the initiation, watch the drone as I cum all over you."

True to his word, the man grasped hold of his rock hard cock and as he started pumping his fist rhythmically Scarlett couldn't help but fixate on the bulbous head thrusting through his clenched hand.

The unfinished eroticism of her dream had been forgotten in the initial fear and confusion as she had left the hut, but now the lingering images from her dream collided with the very real images in front of her face. She couldn't untangle her indignation at being tied up and forced to watch this man's display from her desire for cock, any cock, including the one in front of her.

Her pussy seemed less confused, though. She glanced down in embarrassment as she felt juices trickle from her pussy down her perineum to her asshole. Holy shit I'm turned on. How can I be turned on by this?

As her body's need for release built, she found that she could not resist staring intently at the wanton display in front of her. The man saw her stare, which goaded him into an ever more furious pace with his fist. Before she knew it, a powerful shot of cum flew from his cock onto her naked breasts, coating one nipple and tracing a line across her stomach. A second shot hit her right thigh as the man indicated the drone with a grunt.

The '7' on the LCD screen disappeared, replaced by a '6'. At the same time, one of the compartments on the underside of the drone opened, and a sock fell out. Scarlett did a quick count. Yes, there were 7 compartments underneath the drone, one open, six closed.

I've got it! she thought excitedly. Scarlett loved a puzzle, especially one that she thought she had figured out, and momentarily forgot the perilousness of her situation. The counter counts sex acts. Whoever is looking into the camera of the drone needs to see 7 sex acts. I must get an item of clothing each time they see one.

The rational part of Scarlett's mind told her that she couldn't participate in this, that it was degrading. But she grimly considered her options. She badly needed to pass the initiation; she couldn't afford to be kicked out of Newdawn. Plus, she could feel the strength of the sun on her sunburnt skin, even at this time in the morning. If she didn't get access to some clothing soon, her skin would be in a bad way.

The decision was made for her as a second man untied her hands and led her over to a soft, spongy grassy area. Laying her down he immediately saw her sodden pussy and, before she had a chance to react, dipped his head and licked the full length of her pussy lips.

It was as if a bolt of electricity had hit her body. The pent-up frustration from her dream, combined with the erotic powerlessness of having been cum on whilst she was tied up, left Scarlett's pussy on fire even before the man's tongue stoked the flames.

Strong willpower had never been in Scarlett's armoury, and as the man kissed her thighs and all around her lips, she felt herself giving into the sensations against what little will she could muster.