by C. W. Ashley
“Make sure you cum inside me, I want to feel all of it.”
“Yes...yes, I will,” Iggy responded gingerly.
Not sure why, but don’t care. Don’t question it, Iggy.
Feeling Clarissa’s ice-cold thighs clasp around his waist woke his body up to an even more alert state. She was as slick as a well-oiled engine. There was no gentle period of working in, and he penetrated and sunk all the way to the hilt with one thrust. She let out a soft cooing sound in response and began kissing him again, working her way from his neck to his chin to his mouth.
Iggy found a nice thrusting cadence that worked for them both, and her powerful hips were grinding in a way that seemed to be setting the motion for him. Although she was physically larger than Sil, she wasn’t as overwhelmingly powerful. Whatever superhuman strength she possessed she clearly had learned to keep it in check when fornicating with a human. Her deep entrance was a little warmer than her skin, but still much colder than anything Iggy had felt with previous women. Her internal muscles squeezed him eagerly as if desperately wanting to milk him of his seed.
Iggy felt familiar sexual pleasure, but also something more. He respected this woman; he respected her desire for freedom. He feared her a little but also felt closer to her than he should have. With each thrust, he felt a bond strengthening, and the closer he felt, the louder her whispery moans became. It’s as if she was feeling something too.
“I’m close…Crasher… don’t fuckin’ stop!”
Iggy’s sweat-slick body was bucking inconsistent rhythm and bringing the proud Landlady close to her climax, her massive breasts heaving in hypnotic step with the slapping of warm flesh against cold. Resting her brisk feet on his calves, she curled her toes to indicate the orgasm was imminent. She held his face and struck with a thousand-yard stare before she roared in deep relish as her peak seized every nerve in her shaking body.
Iggy felt a wash of pure pride. As he sustained his hammering hips, he was only a few seconds behind her and was determined to give her what she asked. Narrowly dodging a drop of sweat from his forehead, Clarissa’s head rose up to Iggy’s neck, noticing a throbbing vein. It was pumping large amounts of blood in its current state and Clarissa’s eye would not leave it. She licked her lips and got closer and closer, not fully in control of her body anymore…
“Arrrrgghhh”
Her head was pushed back to the mattress by Iggy’s collarbone as he shouted in tandem with his climax, pumping heavy rounds of ejaculation deep inside her as he was told. Her eye rolled back and her mind left his artery, soaked in the invigoration she felt from what he poured within her. Her body tingled with it, mixed with the aftershock of the orgasm. The sensation had the raw kick of a near-lethal cocktail of powder. Her senses were pushed to the point of losing consciousness but she held on to savor. Iggy’s face dropped into her soft breasts gasping for air. With an easy smile across his face that slowly turned to a gasp of confusion.
She’s getting warmer?
His mind dwelled on the strange sudden temperature, before enveloping in comfort and dragging him back towards the sweet darkness of slumber.
Chapter 11: The Clutch
Iggy’s eyes flinched open to stabbing sunlight, defeating any chance of him laying-in for the morning. His arm flopped over in search of the vampire he sexed just hours prior, only to find an empty bed sheet.
He felt even more out of place when he glanced around the room, he was in. It was made all the more strange by the sunlight, revealed in its full state. The room had a lot more wires, monitors and electronic clutter than he noticed in the dark. The decor of the room was that of pre-skirmish luxury, but Iggy suspected the room was also used as a ‘control room’ of sorts. This didn’t surprise him considering how knowledgeable and savvy the Landlady came across.
Iggy’s thoughts were halted by the click and creak of the front door, followed by heavy steps that could only belong to the burly Grady. Springing off the bed with a spritely freshness (which was no doubt due to his time with Clarissa), he found himself in front of the large mutant who looked the shirtless driver up and down curiously.
“You need to do more sit-ups, Crasher. L is with your Blockgain at Blanch’s. You’re leaving immediately. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you fuck this up.”
Grady’s black eyes widened with serious intent as his powerful leathery hand crashed down on Iggy’s shoulder in a shockingly painful patting motion. His point couldn’t be made any more clearly. After throwing on a tank top vest and a motor jacket to match his new pants from the room’s wardrobe, he took the elevator downstairs with Grady.
They didn’t talk much at all aside from Iggy clarifying the location and path to his destination. Grady warned him about increased bandit presence, along with bigger and badder creatures of the waste. Iggy resolved that as long as he stayed driving fast, he wouldn’t be in too much trouble. The Blockgain was a marvel of the big waste with very few equals and even fewer superiors. Grady gave Iggy a couple of standards to grab something to eat from the market and told Iggy to meet him and Clarissa in half an hour.
The rusty, decrepit shell of Folsom looked especially ugly in the daytime. The damage to the structures was jarring against the exotic decorations and colorful graffiti. Wisps of smoke were pillowing the air in various shades of white and grey, mostly emanating from open bug barbecues and poorly maintained vehicles.
The scarred, scabbed and filthy inhabitants of the shell were fully revealed by the morning light; armor-clad ruffians wondering in and out of traffic like zombies. Looking for their next powder fix, blights chased human teenagers through the markets and leather-clad mutant dominatrix figures, performed lewd acts on their customers in front of the public. The only ones breaking the image of the chaos were stern-looking men and women in dark grey riot armor which read FOLSOM WATCH across their backs. All of them were armed with Shotguns of various models and quality. Iggy could see how someone could find a warped charm in this insane place, but it really wasn’t for him.
Just as he tried to follow his nose to the least-disturbing food scent, the flash of a body flew past him and crashed into a nearby Cactus soup stall. This caused a large spill of scalding hot broth to splash a few bystanders who reflexively screamed in agony. Iggy’s head snapped to see the Iron-Knuckle bartender Jake rubbing his fist before rolling down his dirty white sleeve. Before Iggy could gasp Jake smiled and greeted him.
“Morning soft-neck! Just doing a bit of market patrol, I get free food from basically everywhere as long as I knock around a thief or two!” Jake said with a cheery tone. “That little bastard was trying to steal death lobsters from the seafood quarter. If he’s lucky, they might just break his arms, otherwise, the owners will feed him to some live lobster to make a point…get a good rest at the towers?”
The burly Orc-mutant whose skin was visibly bright blue outside of the dingy bar seemed to be wearing the same apron as last night. Though Iggy couldn’t be sure, he doubted Jake had slept at all himself.
“Oh, hey Jake, yeah I slept pretty good,” Iggy said modestly. Iggy tried with every fiber to not smile but he felt a tiny grin crack from the side of his mouth.
“She’s a fine host, Ignition,” Jake said with a knowing smirk.
“Y-yeah, well. Grady sent me to get something to eat, any suggestions?” Iggy asked before turning to the twitching thief in the stall wreckage. “I’m guessing soup is off the menu.”
Jake snorted out a chuckle. “Don’t pay for this shit. Here have some crow wings and black turnips. I’m not going to finish them anyway.”
Jake handed a takeaway bag with a logo of a mutant chef holding a trident-sized fork covered in blood. The scent from the bag wafted something tasty. Fried bird and crunchy veg was not a bad meal to start the day with. Iggy took the bag and began munching immediately while thanking Jake through a full mouth. Jake wiped his slightly bloodied knuckles on his apron and turned to street corner before waving down a piss-yellow cab car.
“Oh, Malkin and the lads were looking for you,” Jake muttered on his way into the cab which looked too small to hold him.
Iggy swallowed down the meat of a juicy crow wing before responding with a cocked eyebrow,
“Oh yeah, them from last night, they say what it was about?”
“Something about a big hunt, something much better paying than the usual Plentipedes shit, you’d have to ask them though!”
Maybe they wanted my help...or just wanted to hang out, it’s a shame I gotta leave for this job so soon, it would have been nice to socialize a bit more.
“Ah, well I got to see the Landlady now. Job is on a timer,” Iggy said with a friendly wave.
“Go easy on her!” Jake laughed before the door shut.
Iggy rubbed the back of his neck with minor embarrassment before walking past the messed-up stall and growing crowd to head to Blanch’s. While munching heaps of his wings and turnips, his heart was light and giddy. He was having an enjoyable meal and was about to be reunited not only with his car but his recent sexual partner, Clarissa.
Iggy’s good mood carried him all the way the Blanch’s garage with no mind paid to the various ruffians and punks he passed on the way over. There was an assortment of Class C vehicles parked near the single gas pump and a few drivers both human and mutant were arguing over parking spots. Before he could eavesdrop on the conflict the familiar friendly voice of Blanch cut through the rabble.
“Hey, sugar! You get anything good to eat for breakfast? Take the side door into the auto shop. Your friends are all here!”
Iggy followed the welcoming but croaky tone of the Blight mechanic to a rusty latched door at the rear of the main auto garage, his stomach tightened as he pushed it open.
Wonder what they've done to my Blockgain….
The room was almost pitch-black, all the windows had been very thoroughly covered by sheets of black shutter metal and the smell of oil and burned rubber sat in the air with a bloated density. In the dark, he could make out the large figure of Grady who was drinking a hot beverage, the tall frame of the Landlady in a leaning position, the glowing eye goggles of a small person who he didn’t immediately recognize. The shape that stood out to him the most was the beautifully familiar body of his beloved car. He could only really make out the exterior but it didn’t look any different which he was grateful for.
“I can smell crow wings on your breath, good protein for them sit-ups I told you to do,” Grady snarked before sipping his drink carefully.
Iggy didn’t even respond and walked over to his car to run his palm along the hood. “She’s a real marvel! Not much I could do to improve on her with what I have here, but I tightened up her brakes and fixed your auto drive and transmission. You should have a nice boost to your acceleration and handling, sugar”.
Blanch’s unmistakable drawl came from inside the car, as she tinkered with a few parts on the dashboard. “You’re too good Blanch, thank you,” Iggy said sincerely. “Are the window blockers in?”
“Just fixing them in now, Darlin’, there won’t be any performance difference, they are just to keep our Landlady from getting an unwanted tan!”
Iggy looked over to Clarissa’s silent figure and nodded to himself.
“They threw in a bonus for you Iggy, one that I wanted, so you better be grateful.”
The voice of the small person with the goggles jogged Iggy’s memory and he realized it was the unassuming hunter, Penoli from the group he met at the bar the night before. Her voice was even but laced with a hint of resentment.
“What? What bonus?” Iggy asked.
Blanch’s croaked laugh shot from the inside of the car, followed by a deep snigger from Grady. “Oh, darlin’ I was going to surprise you when we turned the lights on, the Landlady dipped into her deep pockets and bought a gas-powered harpoon attachment for your beautiful vehicle here, handy tool! Penoli will have to wait until I order in one next month haha”.
Iggy’s fists balled as his voice wretched. “You put a weapon attachment on my car?! No one thinks to ask me first?”
Iggy noticed as Grady set his cup down and was reminded to watch his tone before Clarissa finally spoke. “Your -wonderful- car has zero in the way of weapons, and I can’t exactly lean out of the window to drive-by on motherfuckers, can I?” Clarissa stated in irritation.
“B-but a roof attachment weapon is heavy, it will mess with the weight distribution on tight chicanes and alter the top speed on a-”
“Then adapt! You’re a Top 20 Derby hotshot, figure it out. I’m not going to be outgunned in the Big Waste so you can steer smoother,” Clarissa cut in bluntly.
Penoli, Blanch, and Grady all snickered as Iggy shut his mouth with great frustration, fists still pathetically balled up. Penoli began to walk to the side door and pulled the goggles off her head.
“Okay, Blanch I gotta go. Malkin and Nailz will be back later, so I’ll begin the paperwork at the bounty office,” Penoli said with a little more enthusiasm than normal.
“No problem honey, the supercharger I installed for them should give them the speed to keep up with that creature. Let me know how it goes when they get back!” Blanch responded.
This must be the big hunt that Jake told me about.
“Too bad you’re stuck with a long day job with the Landlady, Ignition. This legendary hunt’s bounty is 280,000 standards. We would have split it with you if you joined us, but you got the harpoon so I guess that balances it out,” Penoli declared.
Iggy didn’t really care about hunts but the prize sounded pretty good even after being split between them. He shrugged as Penoli left the auto shop and then waved her goodbye.
Grady finished the last of his drink and walked over to the Landlady as she pushed off from the wall. Grady towered over his boss but lowered his head in respect to her in a rare moment of poignant silence from the snarking brute. Clarissa placed her hand on his shoulder and lightly leaned her forehead against his chest.
“Alright, you’re in charge of the towers now, you gonna be a good landlord?” she said with a voice that was trying to hold back emotion.
“I got it under control L. Focus on Baker and that payment. I’ll be here,” Grady said with a tone that was also trying to hold back his true feelings.
They are close, like family. This can’t be easy for either of them knowing the danger.
“Alright fuck it, let’s go. Crasher, your weapons are in the car. Your Elephant Revolver is loaded in your glove box and your bat is in the passenger seat. We added a console near the steering wheel for the harpoon. I’ll talk you through it on the road,” Clarissa said.
“Twenty-four hours or less, let’s get this done,” Iggy said with a determined tone.
Clarissa climbed into the back of the Blockgain and pulled down the sun blockers around the windows from the inside. Iggy thanked Blanch once more before entering the driver’s seat. Grady paid Blanch a large number of standards before walking around to the driver’s window. The garage door began to open and light slowly revealed Grady’s trout face grinning with a disturbing look in his black eyes. But Iggy had no time to respond to a taunt.
He was focused on the task at hand because Clarissa the Landlord was counting on him. Iggy hit the ignition and felt his car roar to life with a new level of health. Not to mention a smell clean of all the gunpowder, sex and blood from the night before. Pressing the gas softly he pulled out of the garage into the sunlit Folsom and headed for the front gates.
His passenger Clarissa remained unseen behind the blockers, trying to stay calm and alert despite how ‘close’ she was to the deadly sunlight. Leaning in the makeshift speaking box, she called to Iggy.
“Crasher, Blanch do a good job? Blockgain feels good don’t it?”
“Really good, can barely feel the weight of the harpoon, we should be fine.”
“Ain't no ‘should be’ about it. We have to be. Don’t fuck it up.”
I won’t. Not this time.
Chap
ter 12: Amazon Chaser
The sky was clear and the sun was beaming. Iggy and his new passenger were only an hour and a half into their journey, but the amount of ground covered was significant. The landscape was a different appearance, there was far less sand and more earth-like soil. It was discolored with patches of brown grass intermingled with cracked pavement and occasionally broken telephone poles. Bent and rusted guard rails stretched sporadically alongside the beaten road and half wrecked cabins made up the atmosphere around their path.
Whatever was left of pre-skirmish civilization was a lot more recognizable out here. Iggy’s delight in tearing through the waste in his Blockgain was offset by his uncertainty with his fellow traveler Clarissa.
She hadn’t spoken much since leaving the garage aside from a few general directions and she was hidden from his view with the sun blockers installed behind the front seats. Iggy didn’t know how to feel. He slept with her and he felt something pretty strong. He felt like he understood her in some way. And now he was with her for the duration of this mission in the hope to get to know her better. But she was showing no signs of returning that curiosity and it was making him anxious. He chose to break the relative silence with a conversation.
“Landlady, what exactly did you do before you were a…. Landlady?” Iggy asked flatly.
There was a moment of silence before her muffled response seeped out through the voice box.
“Been a long time...even before the Folsom towers I was running freelance security. Some called me a ‘problem solver’ of sorts.”