Dystopia Pt. 05

Emil sighed heavily and felt each of his muscles. They were all goop. "No Isla, thank you very much. All of my bones have been melted and I feel amazing."

A slight chuckle reached his ears as the towel shifted off his waist, exposing him in his entirety. "Not all of them," she said. Before he could utter a word, Isla bent over and licked his cock from root to tip.

"Mmmnnnnh," Emil groaned. She looked up at him and smiled, as she ran her tongue from balls to tip over and over. Pulling her hair behind her right ear, she met his gaze and sank down over his tip, slathering his cock with her saliva as she began to suck on him in earnest.

He gasped, and laid back into his pillow as the black haired beauty inhaled his cock over and over, her tongue lapping at his crown and then forcing him deeper and deeper down her throat with each stroke. Isla worked his shaft slowly, teasing him for long minutes as she swirled her tongue over his rod and flicked his tip, before her cheeks hollowed like she was going to suck his semen out of his balls directly.

"Oooh fuck," he gasped and Isla moaned in response, sending vibrations down his cock that felt divine.

He was about to blow, but before he could move to grab her head and force her down on his cock she pulled back. Meeting his gaze again, she pulled his dick out of her mouth and began running her tongue up and down the underside of him, while gently scratching at his balls. Emil bucked a little each time he felt her nails ever so gently scrape against the back of his sack.

She switched her focus then, choosing to suck on that sweet spot she had discovered before, on the underside of his cock just below the head. Wrapping her mouth around him like she was wearing a horse's bit-gag, the tip of her tongue flicked rapidly against him rocketing him towards his goal.

"Isla, I'm going to cum," he gasped out. Rather than backing off, she redoubled her efforts, and quickly gobbled him whole and sank as low as she could on his dick, rapidly working her head back and forth to force him over the edge like a woman possessed.

In seconds he was at the point of no return. "I'm going to cum! I'm going to... FUCK!" Emil shouted as his whole body locked up and his back arched, the lizard part of his brain trying to force his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. Explosions went off behind his eyes and his mind went white, as he felt the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had rip through him and pour out his tip.

Isla moaned as his spunk hit the back of her throat and she looked him directly in the eyes as she swallowed around his dick, drinking what he had without spilling a drop. She slowed her bobbing as he pulsed deep in her mouth, unloading shot after shot, her tongue firmly pressing against the underside of his cock forcing its contents upward and into her throat.

It took minutes before his orgasm was spent, and he slumped back onto the bed. Isla followed him down, no longer sucking but simply holding him. Every few seconds he felt her lap at his tip, gobbling up whatever was left and hoping for more, but she knew he was spent. It wasn't until Emil spoke up, that she finally sucked hard one last time, and then let him go with a 'pop'.

"That was amazing Isla. Thank you."

"Of course Master. It is my job to take care of you and help you relax any way I can. I would be happy to do this for you whenever you'd like. Just tell me and I will be happy... to give you a massage." Isla smirked at his surprised expression, making it obvious she was just teasing him.

He sighed heavily and leaned back into his pillow. "Heh. I'll keep that in mind. I didn't buy you as a bed warmer you know, I really need help on the ranch and you were my best bet. I obviously won't turn down your offers, but also know that I never intended this when I bought you. Please don't do anything you don't want to do. We'll be together for a very long time, and hating each other is not going to help anything."

He looked down to see Isla looking at him with misty eyes. 'Oh shit! What the hell did I say?!'

"Thank you for your consideration Master," she said quietly. "If there is nothing else, I'd like to retire for the night."

Confused, but with no alternative he nodded. "Of course Isla. Thank you again, that was wonderful."

Without another word, she slipped off his bed and walked the few feet over to her hanging cot, and buried herself in her blankets. He watched her for a few seconds to see if she said or did anything to give him a clue as to how to fix whatever he fucked up, but she appeared to fall asleep instantly.

Emil shifted and crawled beneath his own blankets, and blew out the lamp on the nightstand. He tried to stay awake and replay the night in his head, but Isla was far too good at her job and sleep claimed him nearly as quickly as it had her. In minutes, he was drooling on his pillow, dead to the world.


*********

Emil woke the next morning with a wet heat on his waist. There was a lump under the blankets, and lifting them revealed Isla languidly sucking his cock. She looked up at him and winked, then began to speed up her blowjob until he was groaning and bucking his hips while tangling his hands in her hair.

It was a matter of only a few minutes with Isla using her mouth and hands to full effect before, with a roar, he came. Her throat worked over and over again as she swallowed his cum, her mouth wrapped tightly around his tip and her hand milking him insistently.

He groaned as he came down from yet another mind blowing orgasm. "Good morning to you too Isla."

"Good morning Master," she greeted him cheerfully. "I've drawn you a bath if you'd like that, and breakfast will be ready shortly."

"By the heavens, you're going to spoil me if you keep this up," he said chuckling as she crawled out from under the blankets.

She paused and turned to look at him with a sly grin on her face, and a twinkle in her eye. "That's the idea. The bath will be cold soon if you don't hurry Master," she said and then disappeared out the door.

A shock of some unidentified emotion bolted through him. "Shit. I'm in trouble aren't I?"

He stretched, limbs all askew and was shocked when he felt half a dozen vertebrae in his back and neck pop with a resounding crack and sudden wave of relief. 'That massage must have done something to me. Never had that many cracks before,' he thought idly to himself.

He felt great. Better than he'd ever had before to be honest. His parents weren't super affectionate in public, and he'd only had a rub down a couple times after he'd hurt himself. He knew that people did it just for fun, but he'd never partook and thought it was mostly a waste of time and money for little return. He wished he could go back in time and punch his younger self. Massages were amazing.

Putting on the socks and pants Isla had left next to the bed, Emil padded over to the bathroom. The iron tub was full and the water was warm but wasn't steaming like last night. The rough cut planks creaked as he shifted his weight taking off his pants, and he almost ate shit when his sock got caught on the waist of his pants, but he was able to hop his way to the wall and save it.

'Smooth, genius. Maybe when you go for breakfast you can pour oatmeal on your head. Dumbass.'

After his near death disrobing, he was able to finish washing up with minimal injury. No soaking for him this morning, just a quick scrub down to start his day. He left the water in the tub in case Isla could use it for something else, and quickly dressed before the water started to drop his core body temp into dangerous levels.

Walking into the kitchen he was greeted by Isla who planted a large bowl of grits with a drizzle of syrup on it.

"I have to head to town and grab some boots for Markem. Is there anything else we need that you can think of?"

"Hmm. Well we need more fruits and maybe some vegetables and nuts, but you would know better than I," she responded thoughtfully.

Emil chewed and stared at the pantry door as he went through a list of all the tools, toys, and supplies he needs. He'd definitely need to buy more fuel for the truck, because he was blowing through gas at an insane rate with all these trips, and he owed Perrin some lamb chops in payment. With two more mouths he'd need to buy a ton of fruits and greens to make sure everyone could make it through the winter. Well... not a ton. He used to buy food for three. It might be actually kinda nice to have some more people around again.

Maybe some more insulation for the rest of the house? It would wipe out his savings, but with the additional help he was still way ahead. It seemed like it would be best if that money was invested in his people, rather than sitting in a bag in his room behind the books.

Nodding his head, he decided it was best. He'd poke around the shops in town and see what he could pick up. "I'll make sure I pick up the veggies. Thanks Isla."

Markem stumbled in and slumped down into his chair, and Isla set a bowl of grits and a cup of tea in front of him. He stared at the bowl for a few seconds while rubbing his face, and then picked up his spoon.

"Morning Markem!" Emil greeted him with a big smile, trying to lift his spirits. It was only his second day, and he was very obviously having a hard time adjusting to an entirely new lifestyle. An upbeat attitude and a little slack was the least he could do, especially considering that his first day was an introduction to "storm rations" as his mother used to call it. Nobody likes to hear that they have limited food, even if it never becomes a problem.

Markem just grunted non-comittally and sipped his tea.

Emil smiled to himself and looked over to Isla, who was just standing in the kitchen looking at the floor with her hands clasped in front of her lap. 'Why the hell is she ALWAYS staring at the gorram ground?'

"Isla, grab your food and join us. Come on," he said waving at her.

She nodded demurely, never lifting her eyes. "Of course Master. Thank you." She quickly gathered a half bowl of grits and a cup of tea and took her place at the table.

Emil found himself bursting with energy for some reason, so he finished his breakfast very quickly and practically chugged his tea. Since everyone was still eating and staring blankly into space or at the tabletop, he rose to put away his bowl.

"I've got that Master!" Isla practically leapt out of her chair and snatched the bowl from his hand.

"It's fine, I was just going to put it in the sink and grab another cup of tea. It's ok," he said with a chuckle.

"No sir, that's my job. Please sit down, I'll grab you some more tea. Did you want any more grits?" Isla's rapid fire questions were accentuated by her firmly shaking her head and frown.

Emil was confused as hell. First she pampers the crap out of him with an hour long massage and an earth shattering orgasm, then promptly starts crying. Then she wakes him up with a stellar blowjob and now she's bowing and scraping like he was going to beat her with a cane. What was going on in that head of hers?!

"Um, no thanks. I appreciate it, but we're on rations." Emil looked out the window and saw the snow falling lazily and the clouds were starting to thin and disperse. "It looks like the storm is dying off. Hopefully the storm will be done by tonight, and we can have a little celebration. Isla, check the pantry later and see if we can wrangle up a nice roast."

Markem perked up at that, finally looking up from his bowl and paying his full attention to the conversation.

"Yes Master. I will see what I can put together, but I will wait for your return before I begin," she said with her eyes still firmly on the floor. She placed his fresh cup of tea in front of him and returned to her place at the table.

"Markem, you ready to hit town today? It's three hours each way, so it's going to be a long day."

"Yessir, Mr. Jackson. I appreciate you advancing my wages. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would it be possible for me to also pick up a few personal items, like some thicker socks and perhaps a new tooth cleaner and a new razor?"

Emil scratched his beard thinking he could use a new razor himself. "Yeah, we can make that happen. Isla, did you need anything else? I'm getting really tired of all these trips back to town. Now that the storm is clearing I really need to get back to ranching. We can get another good tupping outta the sheep, and the goats are about to go rampant. Fall is..." he took a deep breath and steeled himself, "the fuckening."

He heard a soft snicker from his left, but when he looked over at Isla she was sitting calmly and quietly sipping her tea.

"I'm not even kidding. The goats are already evil douchebags right? Well they go into heat next month, and we have to separate the males from the females or they will literally fuck each other to death. We have to breed them carefully, and if we do it right we can increase the herd for next year. If we do it wrong, we will lose several females and that can really hurt us. It's a giant pain in the ass."

Markem blinked at him. "You're shitting me."

Emil chuckled and shook his head. "Sadly, no. Last year I had to skip the breeding cycle because I didn't have the manpower. I lost forty goats."

Markem just shook his head and finished his grits, handing the bowl to Isla to clean. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be dressed."

Emil nodded, "No problem."

As Markem wandered off to go get dressed, he turned to Isla. "We're going to be gone almost all day. I need you to go through all the lamps, fill the oils and trim the wicks. Also, whatever laundry you can accomplish would be awesome. Are you sure that there's nothing you need in town? I probably won't head back for a couple weeks."

Isla shook her head, her black hair swishing side to side before she brushed it back over her ear. "Thank you Master, but I have clothes, food, and books to read. The bunnies will keep me company if nothing else," she said. The corners of her mouth tilting upwards, and he caught her peeking up at him through her lashes.

Emil blinked. 'Did she just tell a joke?' He started laughing. It started small with just a chuckle. A small "hehehe," but it grew. It burbled deep in his gut and exploded forth as great bellows. He threw back his head and let loose and brayed at the ceiling. It had been a long time since someone had tried to make him laugh. He missed it dearly.

Markem walked back into the room pulling on his dad's old coat. His laughter faded as he saw the subtle embroidery on the sleeves. The fancy stitching that his mother had stayed up late for weeks to accomplish.

He remembered sitting on the bed with her, covered in his favorite blanket chatting with her as she spent hour after hour stitching the sleeves just right. It was a birthday present after all, it needed to be special.

"When you love someone Emil," she used to tell him, "you always want to go the extra mile to see them smile. I love making things for your dad! He always gets so excited, and every time I see him in this coat, I'll always remember his smile," she had told him, fingers bleeding from being stuck too many times with an errant needle.

Emil shook his head to clear the memories, and coughed into his hand to cover a sigh. "Alright Markem! Let's head out."

He walked over to the pantry and grabbed a large leg of mutton. It was significantly more than the four chops that he owed the blacksmith, but he figured that it was better to overpay now and ask favors later, than beg for favors with promise of future payment that may never come. Besides, Perrin and Faile had always been nice to his family and were well respected in town. No reason not to pay it forward.

Once Markem was dressed and ready, they both headed out to the barn. The wind had died down to nothing more than a gentle breeze and the snow was barely falling at all. Looking to the west, he saw the grey mass of clouds taper off in the far distance, and brighter spots where it looked like the sun was trying to poke through.

"Oh good, it really does look like the storm is over. Thank the spaghetti monster for that."

Markem looked at him oddly. "Do many up north believe in the Noodle Lord?"

Emil shook his head with a chuckle. "Nah, I heard it once from a trader that passed through and I always thought it sounded fun. Most up here believe in Earth Spirits or the Winter Queen if they believe in anything. I think there's probably something up there, but it's never paid attention to me so I just go on living."

Markem nodded his head somberly, as if digesting some great truth. Emil shrugged, topped off the fluids and fuel on the truck and then they were off.

*******

The road passed by with very little deviation. Same grey sky, same icy road. Emil was frustrated that it had snowed, because it prevented him from seeing the potholes in his way and he hit more than he wanted to, jolting both passengers side to side. A few hours later they pulled up in front of the Prancing Pony, and he killed the engine.

Emil reached into his interior coat pocket and pulled out his bag of coinage. Poking through it, he handed Markem the four gold he was promised at the end of the season. "Here's your advance wages. Since we agreed that I would cover your clothing, here's another two for the boots."

Markem took the gold greedily and clutched it like he was afraid it would be taken from him at any second. Emil pointed out the cobblers shop and left Markem to his purchases.

He wandered over to the smith's, and heard the typical clanging and banging he'd always had. "Perrin you in?" He shouted as he crested the wind break. The hammering suddenly stopped, and Emil entered the shop to see not the mountain of a man that was Perrin, but rather the whipcord thin Faile behind the anvil.

A giant grin crossed her features as she saw him. "Emil Jackson as I live and breathe. How are you?" She tossed her hammer casually onto the nearby workbench, and ran over to give him a hug that nearly broke ribs. She may be smaller than Perrin, but there was a running joke at the Pony that she was just as strong and three times as cunning.

"I'm good!' He gasped out. "Just making sure that I pay Perrin back for his work," he said handing over the mutton wrapped in paper.

Faile squealed and ripped the meat from him. "Oh good! Your ranch always has the best, and the fishing down south was poor this season so we've been wanting for some good cuts." She opened the wrapper and inspected the cut. "This seems like more than such a simple job would be worth," she said giving him a questioning stare.

Emil shrugged. "I'm not hurting for food at the moment, and you have always treated my family fair. Doesn't hurt nothing to overpay a little this time. Maybe next time I need a sudden request and I'm short, you won't mind helping me out.

She chuckled at that, nodding as she put away the cut. "Oh, are you planning on picking up any more slaves? Perhaps starting your own little harem now that your parents aren't here to yell at you for wasting your coin?"

Emil shook his head vigorously. "No, no. Not at all. I honestly never intended to buy Isla, but after last winter, I desperately need help on the ranch before I lose it. I asked around for apprentices, but everyone was already committed. Isla was a good buy though, and she's already paid for herself."

"Just because you own some pretty little thing Emil Jackson, doesn't mean you get to abuse her." Faile's eyes went flat at that, and her shoulders squared. "If I hear tell that you're hurting that poor girl, you and I will have words."

He held up his hands in a placating manner. "I would never! I bought her only as a ranch hand, I swear. She's learning to cook, her mother was a laundress, and I'm planning on having her help with the milking when we get another breeding cycle. I would never hurt her or demand anything that she didn't willingly offer."