My Wasteland Angel Bk. 01

It is well over an hour later when I hear the light tread of something approaching the shelter. I tense up. I couldn't escape yet and could only hope for the best. I am relieved as I hear the woman say in a soft voice. "Filth. It's me."

She ducks in under the flap. The bottle in her hands once more full of water. She grimaces. "Ugh, it is ripe in here. Smells like Orc." She puts the water down and heads back outside. I can see her shadow cast across the tarp as she moves around and begins picking up the rocks and such that held the outer edge to the ground. After she does this she begins peeling the green walls up and back, giving me a view of the outside. I see the area where I first saw this girl, the same area she had been raped. I see the length of iron bar she had held over me stabbed into the ground about twenty feet away. I am reminded again that I still lay in the exact spot I landed.

A gust of fresh breeze comes through, mercifully pushing out the stale stuffy air of the tent. It was wonderfully refreshing. She props up the edge with an aluminum pole she had found making it so the shelter now stood open on one end.

I could see she was in good spirits as she entered once more. "It is so nice out today. I think it will be hot later." From what I could see and feel I had to agree. She comes to squat down beside me. She sets her knife off to the side then sort of duck walks over to me. She doesn't check my bonds, her knife is just out of arms reach. She is getting sloppy, complacent. She really shouldn't trust me this much now that I was regaining some of my strength.

She pulls something from her pocket. "I was able to find my buttons." She plops down heavily on her butt. I was happy to see the her discomfort and tenderness from Blitz's rough attentions seemed to have abated. She turns and pulls a needle and a zig zaggy length of scavenged thread from her pack. She sets them all out on the top flap of the pack. She begins her one sided conversation again. "My mother taught me to sew. She was real good, worked so fast. She always used to say: Sew much work, sew little time. Isn't that a silly thing to say? I guess people say silly things all the time." She turns so that she sat with her back to me, she sits very close. Mere inches from my hand.

She pulls off the one good strap of the overalls then peels off her plaid shirt. She was now naked from the waist up. Her smooth exposed back just a couple feet away from me. I can see her shoulders and back tapers to a slender waist. She was thin, I could just make out the shape of her ribs, but she wasn't emaciated. She didn't have a mark on her. Not a scar, not a burn, not a scratch. I thought there would at least be some bruising from yesterday, but no. Her copper body was flawless.

As she sews the buttons back on her shirt with a deft hand she continues. "The crows and blood birds are all over the place up where you fought yesterday. I might see if I can get close enough just to get us a weapon." I didn't like the sound of that. Blood birds, while generally satisfied with carrion, have been known to go after vulnerable looking creatures. And this woman definitely fit that bill. There were likely gore rats and potentially worse creatures up there as well. It was a hell of a risk, though...a gun sure would be good to have. Living in the Wastes without a weapon was a death wish waiting to be granted.

"I'll need a lot more thread if I'm going to make you something. Some decent fabric too. You might have to settle for a poncho or like a simple dress." She laughs. "Ha! Could you imagine? You in a dress! I'd make a yellow dress to match your eyes. Ha ha ha! I've never seen an Orc in a dress. He he he. That's funny. But...who knows, maybe I'll find you some proper clothes. I should be able to. I haven't looked much that way yet." She nods in a direction. "Yellow is actually my favorite color you know. Not piss yellow like your eyes. A nice daffodil yellow. Daffodils used to be flowers from back..." And so it went.

She sat and talked as she did and sewing her buttons. She began rocking forward and back again. Occasionally she would shift a little closer to me. I lay and listen, savoring her every word. I was enjoying her company far more than I ought to. If this was anyone else her inane chatter might have been annoying, but she wasn't anyone else. Her melodic voice was anything but annoying.

I continue to look over her bare flesh as she spoke. I marvel once again. Such a fine girl all alone in this grim dusty world. I would wager that she had to stay on her guard even when visiting the trash towns. Slavery was not uncommon and any of the brothels would make her their star girl in the blink of an eye. She was so beautiful. So...very beautiful. I ignore the pain and slowly raise my injured bandaged hand. I reach out and gently stroke the soft curve of her back.

She startles and jolts away from me. She scrambles for her knife. Spinning around she holds it out toward me in both hands. I'm not seeing the knife however. I see her lithe arms, her tight smooth stomach, her small pouting breasts.

"Don't touch me Filth!" She spits that last word at me. "Stop looking at me!"

I carefully put my arm back down again. I shift my eyes to look just off to her side. It is quiet for a time. She finally lowers the knife. She sits back down and finishes her last button and puts on her shirt. As she pulls the strap of her pants over her shoulder she says without looking at me directly. "I named you Filth so I would always remember what you are. So that I would remember what your brother did to me. Don't ever touch me again mutant."

With that she grabs a few small supplies and heads out of the shelter. I watch as she moves the broken bucket, which seemed to be full of water, into the sun. Then she disappears out of sight.

I lay in silence. I miss her already.

Part 5:

A few hours later I lay looking at the bottle of water that sat just a few feet away. I berate myself for touching the woman. As long as I was quiet and I kept my hands to myself she seemed happy to be near me. To talk to me. To take care of me. By touching her back I had upset her and scared her off. I had only myself to blame for the burning feeling up and down my ragged throat. Or for the depressing silence around me now. I missed her voice.

I had focused for a time on freeing my my good arm, I hated being bound plus it gave me something to concentrate on, but I had hit a roadblock. I discover that she had actually tied my wrist twice over. By the time I had the one binding loose enough for me to start to pull my hand free I find that the other bond had tightened almost to the point of cutting off the blood getting into my hand. I'd given up for the time being. I needed to rest again.

I slept fitfully for a short time but the slumber wouldn't stick. My mind was too preoccupied by by either managing my pain, which was getting easier, or thinking about this strange woman. I was starting to get worried about her. She'd been gone a long time. She had talked about heading up to the over pass. Is that where she was now? Or was she getting food? Or finding clothes? I wished I knew. Was she okay? Maybe she was hurt, or maybe she had finally thought better of caring for an Orc and ran off. It was so frustrating being this helpless. This immobile. This useless. The boredom didn't help either.

I lay, I listen. I hear the breeze. I hear buzzing insects. I hear crows. I hear the nearby skittering of small animals from time to time. I feel as the heat of the day continuously rises. I am able to get the blanket off of me with my semi mobile injured arm. The light outside was taking on a more harsh bright white look as the sun now baked down directly from above. The breeze began to die off and it was getting real quiet outside. The cool of the previous night was long gone. It was going to be a scorcher. I hope the woman finds shelter where ever she is. Sometimes these sorts of days could cause unprotected skin to blister in mere minutes.

As the sun nears its zenith I hear the trotting of soft foot falls at a jog. The woman comes into view carrying a makeshift sack. I am so thankful to see her again. She stops and checks on the water she had left in the sun. Feeling it with her fingers. Then she walks up and enters the shelter. I see she is sweaty and flush from the heat and her exertions.

"It's getting real hot out there." She says, slightly out of breath. She didn't seem upset anymore. If anything she seemed happy to see me. She puts down the tied off bundle. She takes a long drink of water straight from the bottle. I watch as beads of sweat trickle down her smooth cheek and slender tan neck. She then turns and pours some slowly into my mouth. I gratefully swallow down every soothing drop she gives me. Again she doesn't check my bindings, this time I don't even see the knife. Once again I think that she really shouldn't trust me as much as she is.

She sets the water to the side and just stands there for a little, fanning herself and peering outside. Looking and listening for any threats. "This is a really good spot. You picked a good place to fall." She looks back toward me. "From the outside you can't even see this little clearing. Just looks like a pile of wreckage. I hope the water holds out for a while."

Kneeling beside me she opens her little sack and folds it out. She was excited to show me what she had found. "Look at this." She holds up a large pair of khaki shorts. The edges were frayed on the right leg but the garment was otherwise in good shape. "I found it in a bus. This too." She pulls out a black tank top with a dark stain across the middle of it. "I think they'll fit you Filth. I didn't find shoes but I don't think you'll be walking for a while. I found some pepper spray too. Still sealed and everything. I'm pretty sure it'll still work." She shows me the aerosol can. "It's not a gun but it's something."

She then holds up a half foot thick chunk of spongy yellow foam cut into a square. She'd obviously cut it out of something with her knife. "I figured since you can't move you might appreciate this." Leaning forward she carefully tilts my head up and slides the cushion under it. She was leaned right over my face, her shirt brushing my nose and forehead. I could smell her! My sense of smell was returning. I smell her musky sweat along with dust and oil. It was intoxicating. She puts my head back down to rest upon the soft foam. "Better, right?"

I nod. This was too much. She was too much.

She nods back. "Good. Oh! And I really hit the jackpot here..." She keeps shifting closer to me as she spoke. The side of her calf was now right up to my hand. "...booze!" She shows me a half full bottle of old world rye whiskey. "I tried some, it is super gross. But I thought you might like it. Maybe help with the pain right?"

Her face brightens into the most lovely smile I had ever seen. She is smiling at me...simply because she felt good to see me. She wasn't sneering at me or laughing at me or gloating over me, as I would experience with my gang mates. It wasn't the false grin of a slick trader or a hired whore.

She seemed so genuinely happy to be doing something for someone else. To have someone to care for, to have someone to care about, to have someone to come home to. I realize that she must have been very lonely out here on her own. I had met enough loners and hermits in my travels to know that loneliness could be one of the more insidious challenges of surviving the Wastes, it drove many scroungers mad.

I smile back...which causes her grin to vanish. She turns her gaze away from me awkwardly. "You're so ugly Filth. Please don't look at me." She says softly. I continue looking, I can't stop myself anymore. She shakes her head. "Anyways. Um...I didn't find anything food wise yet, but I'm going to take a break. It's going to be too hot out there to do anything soon. On the bright side the bath water is nice and warm."

She pushes her newly found treasures off to the side and gets up to head outside. She grabs the bucket by the lip and drags it backward into the shelter. She pulls a quasi clean rag from her pack and tosses it into the bucket.

She sits beside me once more. She really seemed to like sitting close. Her hand comes to rest on my bare shoulder. "I used to have to bathe my sister when she was really little. Never thought I'd bathe an Orc. Probably no one ever bathed an Orc before, you being such filthy creatures. I can say I was the first to do it. I'm going to do it now so you can't stop me. Don't be mad. You'll feel better and smell better. Maybe you'll even like it. Maybe there's still a little human in you mutant." She looks over my body and starts brushing away the larger bits of dust and dirt with her bare hand. She was going about it like any other chore that had to be done.

She continues her wonderful one sided conversation, I was greedy for every word. "Back home I could take proper showers when the reservoirs were full. Those were nice. You could get clean, like truly clean. Everywhere. So nice." She laughs as she pulls the bucket closer. Her eyes were off in the distance, thinking of her memory. "My dad would yell at me. He'd say:" She puts on a mock fatherly masculine voice. "Gabby! Quit using all the water! You're not that big, how can you use so much water!?" She laughs again. "My name is Gabriela but he always called me Gabby. His girl Gabby..."

Her name was Gabby? This talkative little woman's name was Gabby? This girl that rarely ever stayed quiet? I start to chuckle. It evolves into a proper laugh. I turn my head away from her and continue laughing. It hurt to laugh, and I didn't want to offend her, but I just couldn't help it.

She turns nervously, worried about my sudden spasms. Her small hands feel my chest. "What's wrong! Oh my god, what... Are...are you laughing?" I feel her tension relax as she settles down beside me again. "Are you laughing at my name? That's rude." She sits a moment watching me. "I suppose you're real name is...uh...puppy...kicker...or some stupid Orc thing." She says in offense.

Puppy kicker!? I laugh even harder. I shake my head, my eyes squeezed shut, and heave with laughter. It is a wheezing rasping laugh, my throat and side pulses in agonizing pain. But I can't stop.

I hear her start to laugh as well, caught up in my jocularity though she was fighting it. "He he...stop it...what's so funny about Gabriela? He he he...stop it Filth. Don't be mean. He he he." She straightens up and says proudly. "Ahem...I happen to think it's a pretty name."

I slowly stop my chuckling, taking time to control my breathing again and get my pain under control, then I look up at her. I give her a long quiet gaze. I thought it was pretty too. It was the perfect name for her. Gabriela. I had never heard such a nice name before.

Gabriela shakes her head at the ridiculousness of it all. "You are a silly Orc Filth." She gets up and very carefully moves my injured arm out away from my body. "I don't want to get the wrapping wet. I cleaned under there yesterday." She says. She settles down once more, now in the space between my arm and torso. She pulls the wet cloth from the bucket and wrings it out. She turns back to me. Her soft brown eyes run down the length of my body. I see them pause at my large breasts, I see them pause at the sizable bulge in my underwear. She asks the question I'd been expecting for a while now.

"Filth...are...are you a man or a woman?"

Part 6:

It was common for us Orcs to have other mutations, most did actually and this was mine. I had the body of a woman. I was tall, even for my race, with long lean muscles. Not stout and wide like the males of my kind. My face was thinner and more oval than the square jawed men, my features less brutish. I had hips, I had a woman's ass, I walked with a sway to my gait, I had breasts. I was a woman in every way but one. Between my legs was a very functional penis with a big pair of testes to match.

I study her face as I answer her question, trying to gauge her reaction. With a gasp the sound of dry paper blowing across pavement I try to respond. "Womm...Wommmaaaa..." I cringe in pain.

"Woman?" She asks. I nod my head. She reaches for the water bottle and empties the rest of it down my aching throat. I breathe a sigh of relief and nod a thank you too her. She sets the bottle down then with the moist cloth she begins wiping my gritty face. She seemed pleased by my answer.

"I thought so." She finally says. "You look like a woman, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. I mean you're tall and muscular and...uh, you have that." She motions toward my junk. "But you're shaped like a woman." She smiles. "And your long hair too." She strokes my thick loosely braided hair. "I was pretty sure you were a woman. Wow. You hair feels so different than mine." Her wide chocolate eyes are studying my coarse red locks as she strokes. Her hand moves around to the side of my head to feel the shaved side. Her fingers brush my ear as she feels around.

Her eyes were on the side of my head but mine were locked on her face. I wanted her so fucking bad in that moment. I'd never wanted a woman so bad in my life! Despite my injuries I can feel my blood rising. I grip my good hand over and over and concentrate on controlling my urges. In another place and another time I might have taken her right there, as Blitz had done. That sort of forced sex wasn't something I had ever done, threats or payment was usually persuasive enough that physical force wasn't necessary. But...this girl...she was doing things to me that I could barely contain.

Oblivious to my rising passion she soon returns to cleaning my face. Her hands are gentle as she dabs and strokes away the filth. Her eyes look me over carefully, looking over every detail as she washes me. "Your skin is so much softer that I thought it would be. Like a human's. I always imagined Orcs to be hard. Like leather or rubber or something." She turns and plunges the cloth into the water. She rings it out and continues, now washing around my ears and my neck. "I've collected some wood for a fire. I think we should risk it tonight. If we keep it small I don't think anything will see our light. Can you see in the dark? I read a book once that said Orcs can see in the dark."

I shake my head no.

"Hm." She rinses the cloth again and moves down to my shoulders and chest. "Whoo, getting hot now, isn't it?" She takes a moment to fan her thick looking plaid shirt. She is rocking again, that unconscious nervous habit of hers. She shifts closer, her hip presses right into mine. "Books aren't always true. Especially novels. Do you want me to read some of our book to you today? I could tell you about the detective."

I slowly nod my head yes though I could barely focus on her words. Fuck...she was so beautiful. Her soothing hands feeling so good on me.

"You might not understand it all. That's okay. I don't understand everything in those old world books either." She is quiet for a time. She refreshes the cloth and begins my pits and the undersides of my breasts, very careful to avoid my bandages. She is as attentive and gentle with my breasts as she had been with the rest of me thus far. "Sorry. You don't mind, do you?"

I shake my head no. I wanted her hands on me. I wished I could have my hands on her. My left hand grips tight. Focus, control, breathe.

As she looks my tits over she asks. "Can...you have children?"

I shake my head no. I didn't have the equipment down below to do so. I was just born with the one set. I could father offspring, as far as I knew, but I couldn't have them. It honestly wasn't something I worried much about, but it seemed that Gabby felt it was a big deal. She looked at me sadly, a look of pity in her eyes.