The Barbarian Of Ice Ch 02

Two things happened in the morning. First he took me again. I was so sore from yesterday, I tried to fight him. It only seemed to spur him on. He probably expected it, how else did people mate out here? No matter how much I kicked and screamed he didn't seem to care. He simply held me down my stomach on the makeshift bed and my ass in the air. He held my hands behind my back like I had seen police do back home and entered my womanhood from behind. I screamed my passion and frustration as his pelvis slapped against my large ass.

My breasts were compressed against the ground as he rutted against me, easing his own morning hardness. I began to sweat with the exertion of trying to fight back. In response he simply came. More of his hot virility flooded my already-tender womanhood. I cried out, tears running down my cheeks. I expected more like last night, but he seemed contented for now.

The second thing he did was speak. "Stay here, it's best." He told me. I was so shocked. I had thought him some feral cannibal that would just fuck me until I gave up and then eat me. I had had a lot of time alone with my thoughts the night before. I remembered my voice.

"Like hell!" I shouted.

He only smiled at me. His eyes trailed to the stream of semen flowing from my legs as I had righted myself in indignation.

He didn't force me to obey or anything, "Where will you go?" He smirked. God, he was so handsome in a barbaric, rugged way. I mentally berated my sex for quivering at the thought of him. With that, and no matter how much I pushed the subject, he simply dressed in thick layers of patchwork jackets and shirts. He nearly doubled in size from the amount of padding he put on, and with that he left. I heard nothing lock or anything being slid into place.

When he was gone I rocked for a bit, feeling dirty and used; hating myself for enjoying him on any level. He'd used me like a convenience. After a few minutes I grew bored and loathsome of my self-pity and hatred and took better stock of my surroundings. It was dim, only a few candles lit anything in the room along with the jury-rigged fireplace stove apparatus.

At least it was warm. Consoling myself I stood, stretching my sore limbs. I felt his need flow out of me and I wished desperately for a bath. My stomach growled. Apparently, I wanted food too. I made a few naked circuits of the room and had the gist of it. The fireplace and bed were the central places. I had found some bread, meat, and vegetables on the slipshod hearth of the fireplace and devoured it easily.

Secretly I hoped it would deprive him in some small way, but I knew he'd probably left it out yesterday for when I woke. The fireplace was ingenious. He had used piping and various pieces from grills and barbeque pits to construct a kind of potbellied stove. Charcoal glowed cheerily inside.

The walls were cinder blocks, but it looked as though he'd hung thick quilts and comforters from them like tapestries in an old castle. Then I saw it, filled with snow. A bathtub, an honest iron claw-foot tub that was over a pit he'd dug in the earth and lined with cinder blocks. In it were coals. I tested the snow. It was slushy and half melted.

I had to admire this individual's ingenuity. He lived as low as he could insulated by the earth, he used what looked like an old coal shoot to fill the tub with new snow, he'd made quite the living for himself. I would be amazed if I wasn't part of this. I put more charcoal under the tub. There was probably know shortage of the stuff seeing as it wasn't the first choice for looters.

While that was heating I looked at the various wardrobes and dressers he'd piled in the corner, and along one wall. Some had nothing but men's clothes, the minority was women's clothes. It's not like he knew I was coming. Small bra after tinier bra confirmed that. It was like he just hoarded stuff in neat little places just in case he needed it. A few kimonos with silk cut out confirmed this. He knew about making patches. There were articles that were being picked down to string for sewing. I even found a box full of needles. I put It back.

Eventually I found a deep purple pair of boy-shorts and a sports bra in my size. There were coats and I decided to get out of here. He'd already torn down my clothes for useful bits and pieces. They were pretty bad off, and he was kind enough to provide replacements.

By now my bath was ready and I relished it. I wanted to soak for hours, but I didn't know when he would be back. I didn't bother smelling nice though he certainly had soap, salts, lotions, and oils aplenty. Definitely a scavenger, who else would be so obsessive about collecting everything? I understood the mentality. When people had nothing they were afraid to throw anything away. It happened in the Great Depression, and it happened in the green zone all the time. The place lacked a woman's touch. Dressing in the bra I began to slide on sweaters and jackets topped with a heavy men's coat. I didn't find any other food, but I was sure he had some somewhere. I opened the trapdoor and left the basement

Upstairs was bigger. It was a studio apartment. The pipe from the fireplace below was extended upward through this room as well. More fans whirred. He probably had a makeshift wind turbine. Not powerful enough to give him electricity but strong enough to power the fans to pull smoke from his abode. There was no door. Not really. He'd boarded it up. However, he was nowhere in sight so he had to get out some way.

It was the old basement window. He'd boarded it up too, but it stayed closed and behind a makeshift tapestry. For a minute I thought about locking him out and letting him freeze, but he could probably break out the boards easily enough, and I feared his wrath. His happiness was bad enough. Another twinge of desire and I growled at my mind.

He hadn't hurt me, not really. Boys used to play rougher games of slap and tickle. It's just he... he took me claimed me. I couldn't stand that. Maybe I hated the fact that he made me orgasm... both times. He was a barbarian. A bit my full lower lip in thought. Was he really bad? He didn't live in society. Had he ever been with a woman before... he'd been my first... even if unwanted. No! I chided myself. It's not your first if you don't want it.

Deciding that I was just obliging the man for saving my life I called it even. I wasn't dead and God would understand. I opened the window and crawled out into the snow. He'd brushed away his tracks. So I did the same. I didn't want his death on my mind. The world was a waste. It was so white, but so dirty, too. I knew which way to go from the sun. I started heading south, shielding my eyes when the sun slashed at them from between the buildings reflecting off the freshly fallen blanket of powder.

I was lost within forty minutes. I began wandering rater aimlessly. Then I heard the sound of motors. I ran to them. It had to be someone civilized. No one knew I was out here, no one that could help anyway. I crested a great dune of ice and snow and saw the scene below me. It was a line of women, in nothing really. Huge bon fires were being lit right on the snow. The women danced and gyrated to others playing metal drums. Two pickup trucks were cutting doughnuts in the snow. They looked like they were power boating on a white sea. More barbarians, fantastic.

The women were ordered to stop and they formed a line. None of them protested. Men formed behind them in rows and began taking them from behind. When one man would cum he would move to the back of the line. His cock in his hands, ready to go again he would look upon the women with a lusty eye. A leader sat on the bed of a third pickup atop a makeshift throne. Two of the slaves were sucking him off. It was a sexually morbid display. An obvious show of the warlord's power. Men filled the women with cum. It ran down their legs and into the snow. You could see the steam even from where I lie hidden. All those bodies and the fires. Then men would go to the front and the women would suck them. The mean came over them, in them. I could see female faces in what looked to be bliss, covered in cum. They probably kept them hopped up on some kind of drug. It wasn't that hard to do. Maybe they were addicted to sex.

I thought it best to leave. I tried to slide down the dune back away from the primal sexual display below. The women seemed to enjoy it, and that scared me. Though... none of those thugs had half the looks of the one who'd taken me; they had horrible tattoos and piercings. It was entirely possible they were from a different tribe. My barbarian, thing that he was, looked like a simple scavenger.

A large section of snow fell down the front toward the party. I gasped and just kept sliding. It didn't matter; there were shouts and the trucks shot up over the dune after me. Men were in the back with nets made from braided scraps of cloth and weighted with things like rocks or small bags of objects even the occasional small free weight. I ran for the nearest building. I made it. I was fast and had been around snow all my life. It wasn't like they were going to catch me that easily. I felt a moment of pride, but realized that they would follow me inside.

It was dark, and the only light came from holes in the ceiling. It was an old movie theater. I could barely make out the remnants of old movie posters. I slid behind the counter and hid behind it. There were huge sliding doors that held bags and selves. I crawled inside and shut them. I held my breath and waited. My body grew numb and cold from waiting. I heard them come and go. Still, I waited for a few hours to make sure they weren't just lying in wait.

When I left it was dusk. I was in trouble now. No one went out after dark. When I'd first come here the Jesuits would set up tents with artic sleeping bags at night. Now with no fire I'd certainly die. It was in the middle of that thought when I felt a gloved hand put itself over my mouth. I felt the other powerful arm circle my stomach under my breasts. I kicked and screamed. Then I heard him quiet me. It was my barbarian. I was shocked, he seemed to read my body language, "You're not as sneaky as you think you are, woman." He said throwing me over his shoulder like a prize,

I didn't make much fuss. I was too crestfallen... and grateful. I would have died otherwise, but I'd also gotten nowhere. He rubbed my ass as he totted me around like the caveman he was. At least he seemed to enjoy my big butt, most of the boys just picked on me about it when I'd been younger. I was back in his den in no time. The upper room this time.

This was the room where he kept things like books, boxes of dried food, cans of beans, that kind of stuff. I didn't even know if he could read. Probably not, books were cheap paper.

"What did I say?" He asked depositing me on a couch. I ignored him crossing my arms across my bosom.

He held my chin with his thumb and forefinger. "I said not to go anywhere." His voice was low and gravely. It was oddly calming.

"Well I couldn't stay here!" I said pulling away. At this he looked genuinely shocked.

"Why not? It's warm, I feed you, we make love, you're very..." he searched for a word, "Beautiful."

I blushed, "We do not make love!" I snapped. He scratched his head.

"Yes we do." He said like it was saying the sky was blue." I take you, you're mine, you make love whenever I want."

"I don't want to 'make love' to you." I shouted, "And I'm not 'yours'." At this he seemed to get genuinely upset.

"Yes you are." He said, "I found you, you're mine. I'm master, you're pretty woman." He never hit me in an abusive way, but I felt him grope my ass. He was pushing himself on me again. My coat came away and he stripped too. "I'm not your slave!" I said as he pulled at my sweater, my breasts popped out their half covered state encouraging him. I wish I'd looked harder for another bra now.

"Stop!" I demanded slapping him across the face. To my surprise he did.

"Fine!" He shouted, "I'll sell you to Loco, Loco will put you out and let all his men fuck you." I gulped.

That was the warlord. Obviously, my barbarian had had dealings with him. How much of this society did I not know about. He seemed to notice my fear and he calmed down a little. "I'll take good care of you." He said, as if half sorry.

He touched the side of my face. His hand was big and warm. In a strange way I was a person, and I was meat to this barbarian. "I'll just run away again. I don't want you touching me anymore." I said trying to put up some kind of fight. What made him so damn endearing. I'd never made.... Had sex before. Was it that. The first man to just give it to me with passion. Was I just a slut? I began to cry and he didn't like that. He must have thought my earlier tears were joyous. He was as articulate as a rock, but he was smart. I could tell that. He just had different values.

I stopped crying and he smiled, and continued to push himself on me. His mouth found my breasts and he began to bite and suck them. I hit him, and I fought. I still didn't accept him as anything close to a master or lover... but I didn't fight long this time.

I don't know what I was thinking or doing, but I couldn't escape tonight. He was just going to take me again anyway. Suddenly the sucking on my tender tits was gone and he pulled me over his lap. A forceful blow came down on my big ass. He was spanking me! I couldn't believe it. He was calling me a bad girl, he was punishing me. By the fiftieth stroke I could hear my voice agreeing with him my mind numb. My dark-brown rump was reddish now. I could feel my crotch just soaked with need. He didn't take me though to my frustration. He kept spanking. Slap after slap rained down on my ass.

Eventually he tied me up with rope and threw me in bed. I had been a bad girl, I knew that. Tomorrow I would have to endeavor not to get caught.