Page 11 of Anarchy

“I’m yours, Maverick. I think I’ve always been yours, waiting for you to find me.” I say through ragged breathing, my hand drifting up and back, gripping his hair between my fingers.

“That’s right, baby.” His hand on my hip drifts down between my legs and strums my clit, making my back arch in his grip. Goddammit, I didn’t know that sex could feel this fucking good. My pussy clenches around his cock, trying to suck him further into my body, the pulsing in my clit reaching a crescendo. “Come for your Master, Pet.” He doesn’t have to tell me twice, the pleasure dam breaks just with his first word. Stars collide in my vision as my orgasm rips through me, my sight going black, and I feel like I’m consumed with Maverick’s touch. His hands gripping me tight against him, using my body for his own pleasure, wringing every last drop of my orgasm out. His thrusts start to stutter as he reaches his own climax, hand rubbing tight, almost painful circles around my clit. My thighs start to shake with an impossible second orgasm. A whimper drifts from my lips, and I try desperately to pull away from his touch. “Come on, baby, give me another one, you can do it.” His pleasurable coaxing has a scream bursting from my lips as I detonate, flinging Maverick over the cliff with me. I go limp in his arms, and he pushes me back onto the ground. Holding my hips up in his grip as he takes his last bit of pleasure, wringing every drop out of us both.

I can feel his heaving chest against my back; we’re both slick with a sheen of sweat. Maverick pulls out of me gently, and then rolls me over onto my back. His hands were holding my thighs wide open, his eyes glued to the sight before him. I look down to see what he could possibly be admiring down there, and the mess waiting for me has a blush blooming on my cheeks. My pussy is streaked with come and pink remnants of my innocence. Utterly embarrassed, I try to pull my thighs closed to shield him from the mess of my destroyed pussy, but he holds them tight in his grip and glares up at me through his lashes. “Don’t ever deny me a meal.” What the fuck is he talking about? I’m not really sure how he can be thinking about food while he’s staring at the massacre between my thighs. Before I can even ask him what he means, he’s diving between my legs, warm tongue lapping up the mess that he made. As my pleasure starts to ramp back up again, he’s back on his knees and leaning over my face. “Open.” The one-word command has my lips springing open, tongue sticking out in offering. He spits the contents in his mouth onto my waiting tongue, and I have to resist the urge to gag. The look of pride in his eyes has me steeling myself, holding the contents on my tongue, waiting for my next instruction. Drool starts to drip from the corner of my mouth, but I wait there like a good pet. “Swallow the last pure part of yourself, Mallory, because going forward all you’ll ever be is my dirty little pet.” Tucking my tongue back into my mouth, I swallow down the contents with a gulp. “That’s my good girl.”

His praise sends a shiver down my spine, straight to my abused core. How is it even possible that I’m getting wet again after all of that? Maverick rolls to my side in the grass, and pulls me onto his chest. My head lies against his sweat-covered skin, his heart beating to an erratic tempo under my cheek. Fingers brush through my hair, softly untangling the knots that formed there. I can feel his come dripping from my pussy, and the warm, sticky feeling has me rubbing my thighs together. He seems to notice my discomfort and pushes us both up to a sitting position. I open my mouth to ask what he’s doing, because honestly, I’m exhausted and completely content with lying here covered in come and sweat. Without a word he scoops me up bridal style and carries us over to the stream, wading in until the water is just above his knees. He sits on the rocky stream floor with me in his lap, lukewarm water flowing over my waist, having my nipples pebbling and goosebumps erupting on my skin.

Reaching down, I scoop up some of the water and use it to wipe the dirt and sweat from my face and neck. Maverick mirrors my movements and then turns me around to sit between his legs. He grips my thighs and spreads my legs open, baring me to the lukewarm current, but before I can even think about closing my legs again, he has them trapped with his own, anchoring my legs where he wants them. A gentle hand comes to the apex of my thighs, and with the water and the pads of his fingers, he wipes away the remnants of our hookup in the grass. Once he’s satisfied with my cleanliness, he washes my back and arms off. I motion for him to turn around, and I do the same for him, the dirt and grime streaking off his back in ripples. Maverick stands from the water, walking towards the packs, and pulls out a T-shirt, using it to dry his skin. While he’s drying, I lean back in the water and do my best to scrub the dirt and oil from my stringy hair. As soon as I resemble a drowned rat, I make my way over to Maverick on the shore, and he starts to dry me off with the already damp T-shirt. We both dress in our previous clothes, and it makes me groan having to put them on over my clean skin.

“Is there any way we can get some new clothes? Preferably ones that actuallyfit?” I say as I hold out my arms to my side to emphasize just how much I swim in the clothing. Maverick appraises me and finally sighs and gives me a nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can find you something somewhere. Let’s get going before it gets dark, looks like it’s only about one in the afternoon if I’m correct with the sun.” He points up to the sky with one hand while reaching into one of the packs with the other. He takes out a weird straw thing attached to what looks like a giant IV bag. Maverick walks over to the shore, his boots sinking into the sand, and motions me towards him. “Here, hold this for me.” He says while handing me the bag, and he takes the straw thing and sticks it into the water and presses a button on the side. Water starts to shoot up the clear tubing and into the bag, quickly filling it. Once it’s full, Maverick clicks the button again and then screws a cap at the bottom of the bag before dislocating the straw and tubing. He grabs the bag and walks back to his pack, securing it to the top handle with a carabiner clip. “In a few hours this should be purified enough for us to drink.” He slips the pack onto his shoulders and helps me with the other, and then grabs my hand and starts to tug me away from the stream. “We better get a move on.” I look behind me as the stream gets smaller in my view, sad that we have to leave this beautiful memory behind, but excited for the prospect of finding new clothes.

ChapterFifteen

MALLORY

My feet are killing me, but the pain is a reminder that they haven’t fallen off yet. I have no idea how long we’ve been walking. I’m sure it’s been a few hours since the sun is starting to fall behind the trees now. We haven’t talked much this entire time other than asking for a pee break or Maverick making sure I’m feeling okay. I’ve been telling him I’m fine, but actually I feel like I’ve been beaten to a pulp. My legs, feet, and pussy throbbed in pain with every step. If he can see through my lies, he sure doesn’t show it. Eventually Maverick steers us through a set of trees, and we come out onto a road. A gasp leaves my mouth, and I drop Maverick’s hand to do a little happy dance in the middle of the road. “Finally!” I scream out into the void, twirling around in circles, and then it hits me that I have to look like a toddler right now. My cheeks heat as I stop and look over at Maverick standing at the side of the road; a smile is plastered to his face, his eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

“Don’t stop on my account.” He motions for me to continue, and with a laugh I do. I twirl and shimmy in the street like I’m on a Broadway stage, but my boots ruin my performance when I trip over them. Before I smash into the asphalt, I land in a set of steel arms. Maverick holds me up and grabs my hand before flinging me right side up and twirling us around in circles and then dipping me back down. The shock on my face has him belting out a laugh, “Didn’t think an asshole like me could dance, huh?” He pulls me back up, gripping my waist with one hand, the other one letting go of my hand and gripping my cheek. His lips smash into my own, and we get lost in our own little bubble again before reality crashes back down and we break apart. “Let’s follow this road and hope it leads to some kind of civilization.” He plants a kiss on my forehead and grabs my hand again, towing me along with him.

We don’t have to walk long until we come across a series of buildings. Maverick pulls us to a stop, his hand going to the gun tucked into his waistband as he looks around, making sure it’s safe. I peer around his back and let out an excited squeal, which has him spinning around and slapping a hand over my lips. We stare into each other's eyes; mine excited, but his are blazing with anger. I relax my shoulders because I don’t blame him for being angry right now. When he’s satisfied that I’m not going to squeal like a stuck pig again, he lets go of my mouth. “You can’t make loud noises like that, Mallory! We don’t want to attract any unwanted visitors if you catch my drift.” He says to me in an angry, harsh whisper.

“I’m sorry! I was just excited. We haven’t seen anything in over a week, let alone a mall!” Well, I don’t think this really counts as a mall, but it’s close enough. Several shops are spread out before us, ranging from clothing and food to hunting. We seriously hit the jackpot right now, and I can’t help but bounce on my toes. Maverick sets his pack at our feet and slides the hunting knife out of it and thrusts it out for me to take. “What do you want me to do with that?” I say in confusion as I roll the heavy thing around in my hands.

“I want you to take it and use it if you have to.” His words are ended with a roll of his eyes and the absurdity of seeing him do that has a giggle slip through my lips. “See if you can find some new clothes and preferably things that will hold up on our trek. No fucking dresses and skirts, Mallory. Make sure you find some good boots too. I’m going to head over to the hunting shop and see if I can stock up on ammo and other things we may need. Scream if something goes wrong, got it?” I’m actually surprised he’s letting me go off on my own, but also grateful for the alone time as well.

“I got it, sir. Thank you!” I whisper-shout, as I jog towards the nearest clothing store, quickly finding out it's only full of children's clothing. I leave and make my way swiftly to another one a few doors down. The door has been ripped from its hinges, lying broken on the front sidewalk. The window in the front is completely smashed, and I start to worry that this place has been ransacked already. I step gingerly over all of the smashed glass, and I’m greeted with the best thing I’ve seen since before this nightmare happened. Racks upon racks of clothing and shoes await me. Managing to contain my squeal of excitement, I start to rifle through the lines of clothing, pulling out various pairs of jeans, leggings, shirts, and sweaters. I make my way to the back of the store, finding a dressing room. A sense of relief and normalcy flows through me as I shut the dressing room door behind me. Setting the clothing on the little bench, I make quick work of removing my own clothes and putting the first outfit on.

The jeans are ripped at the knees and fit me like a glove, making my ass look even more perkier than it already does. The shirt is sticking to me like a second skin. I twirl around in front of the mirror admiring the outfit and then stop cold, remembering Maverick’s words to find functional clothing. With a sad sigh I take the outfit off and fling it into the corner. Looking down at my options I snag up a pair of leggings and slide them on with another T-shirt and hoodie. These fit almost as well as the other outfit, and look like I’m going to attend a bonfire after a tailgate party. I chalk this outfit up as approved, removing it, folding it up, and setting it aside. The last pair of jeans and shirt sits there staring at me. I know the shirt won’t fly with its low V-cut neckline, so I don’t even bother with it, but slide the jeans over my hips. They fit perfectly with zero holes in them, thank god. I squat down to test their flexibility, and I’m happily surprised that they fit and feel this good. I decide to keep them on and throw on the shirt and hoodie from the other outfit. I decided to throw both pairs of leggings into my pack. Sitting on the bench, I haphazardly put my clown boots back on before slipping my pack back onto my shoulder.

Tossing the door open, it bangs loudly against the wall behind it, making me jump. Determined to find another shirt and a new pair of boots, I turn to walk back towards the racks of clothing, but the sight before me makes me stop dead in my tracks. My heart jumps in my chest, hands going clammy as I reach to the side pocket of my pack slowly to pull out the knife. The sweat gathering on my palm almost makes me drop the knife to the floor, but I manage to grip it tight before it slips through my fingers. A small group of zombies had filtered through the broken doorway while I was distracted with trying on clothes. I do a headcount and come up with seven standing around in the racks of clothing. I have no idea how the hell I’m going to get out of this shit alive. I can’t yell for Maverick, or I’m going to alert them of my presence. So far they haven’t seemed to notice my existence here. I take a few cautious steps out onto the shop floor, and still none of them notice me. Clutching the knife in my shaking hand, I step closer towards the door currently blocked by the zombies. The closer I get to them, the more erratic my heart beats and the sweatier I get.

Somehow none of them have noticed me inching closer to them, and it truly boggles my mind. They were so vicious when they attacked Maverick and me, but now they are absolutely clueless to my presence. I sneak behind one zombie, and the stench coming off of him is enough to make me gag. The small noise makes another one of the undead twitch in my direction, but it’s like they’re looking through me. What the fuck is going on? I walk past another one, and now I'm in the middle of the clothing store surrounded by them. Looking around me to pick the easiest path out of this hellfest, I spot something pink hidden among the racks. I tug it out, and it's the sweetest T-shirt I’ve ever seen, adorned with orange butterflies. I peek inside and let out an excited gasp that it's my size! The gasp makes every zombie in here turn towards me. Several of them take a few steps closer to me, but then they turn around and start limping back the other direction. My brow furrows with confusion. I lift my shirt to my nose and smell it and then smell under my armpits just to be safe and wrinkle my nose. I definitely smell human, so not really sure why I’m not desirable to them, but whatever floats their boat. Clutching my shirt to my chest, I turn towards the door and decide I should just make a run for it.

“Mallory, DUCK!” The loud shout catches me off guard, and my head whips to the open doorway, Maverick standing there with a rifle in his hands. “Get the fuck down!”

ChapterSixteen

MAVERICK

Iwatch Mallory’s perfect ass as she jogs towards the clothing store, shaking my head at her excitement. A niggling worry bounces around in my chest for letting her go clothes shopping by herself, but I tell myself I gave her a hunting knife for a reason. Knowing damn well she wouldn’t know how to use a gun, and honestly I’m not even sure she would even know how to use that knife either. The image of her surrounded by zombies pops into my head, and I make it my mission to get what I need as fast as possible. I sprint towards the hunting store a few doors down from the clothing shops. The door is already open and hanging from the hinges. Pulling my axe from its place at the side of my pack, I grasp it in my hand, ready for anything to pop out. Browsing the aisles, I don’t see shit that I need, and I start to get frustrated because how the fuck can a hunting store have nothing useful? I walk towards the back of the store hoping that all the good stuff is back there, and I stop dead in my tracks.

Standing a few feet from me is a woman covered in dirt with ratty hair. Her eyes are wide with surprise, but then they narrow in determination. In her hand is a machete and a pair of sparkling pink combat boots that look like the perfect size for my Pet. If there were a God, he’d be shining his light on those boots right now with harps and angels singing in the background. The woman follows my line of sight and grips the boots tighter in her hands.

“I’m gonna need those. How about you drop them there and scurry off?” I take a step closer to her, and her stance stiffens.

“I don’t think so. I found them first, and I don’t think pink is really your color.” Her sneer makes her face even uglier.

“Look, I don’t have any qualms over fighting a girl, so it would be in your best interest to just leave them there and walk away.” My hand tightens on the axe, waiting for the impending fight.

“And I don’t have any problems fighting a grown man!” She yells back, and her feistiness is really admirable. I’d probably enjoy it if my girl weren't a few stores down walking around in clown shoes.

“Suit yourself.” I toss my axe at her head so fast she isn’t able to make a move herself. The sharp edge plants itself in her skull. Blood spilling down her face, her brain not yet catching up to her injury as her eyes drift up to me, and she finally stumbles back and falls to the ground. Walking towards her, I grab the boots from her hands before they get her nasty blood on them, and also grab the knife too. The more, the merrier. Rifling through her backpack, I find some protein bars and water flavoring packets that I stuff into my own bag for later.

Once I’m satisfied I’ve taken all the useful shit off of her, I head towards the back in hopes of finding what I really came in here for, and I’m greeted with the jackpot of supplies. The first thing I grab is a bigger backpack that I promptly stuff everything inside my own into. Then I scan the walls and come up with a box of ammunition for my handgun as well as a fully loaded assault rifle and extra ammo for that, which I stuff into my pack. Next come more first aid supplies and shelf-stable dehydrated food. Finally swinging my new pack onto my shoulders, I cringe at its weight, but it's still lighter than anything I’ve ever had to carry with me while on jobs. I attach the axe to the side of the pack, hang the boots around it, grab the rifle, sling the strap around my neck, and head towards the door. On my way out I snag a few chocolate bars that I think Mallory will be grateful for.

I walk down the sidewalk in front of the shop, my boots crunching over broken glass and other debris. Peering into the window of the store that I saw Mallory disappear into, I see that it’s empty. I arch my brow and keep walking to the next store. I notice the door and windows are all smashed on this one and I hope to fuck Mallory isn’t in this one, but sure enough I see her blonde hair through the broken edge. But I also see several zombies surrounding her. I watch silently, trying to devise a strategy to destroy these fuckers, but I notice that none of them are bothering her. My mind whirls as I watch her and listen to her gasp excitedly while tugging a pink shirt from the rack. My hand tightens around the rifle in preparation; a few zombies turn towards her and then turn away like she’s a ghost! What in the hell? I see her sniff herself and almost let out a laugh at how ridiculous she looks doing it. She shrugs and starts to turn towards the door, and I decide it’s time to exterminate these disease-ridden beings.

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