Safe Zone (Part 2)

Hey everyone! So this is part 2 of a post-apocalyptic erotica I wrote for ShagStory earlier this year! A military commander and a civilian fall in love. Now, as they’re adjusting to life in Safe Zone A, Sarah and Commander Tom Hicks’ relationship develops deeper. 

Preparing for the winter, their time alone together is not as often as before, which brings out a bratty streak in Sarah that Commander Hicks is more than happy to tame…

Pulling my cardigan tighter round my chest, I watch leaves fall from the trees.

It’s cold this evening, and I focus on one leaf in particular. It’s wide and terracotta golden. Three pointed, like a large maple leaf. It twists through the crisp evening air, dancing a last swan song, before landing at its final resting place on the grass, atop of the other, soon to be forgotten signs of autumn. I want to pick it up, but I don’t. It’s beyond the Safe Zone perimeter, a reinforced metal fence with barbed wire curled along the top.

I take a deep breath through my nose. Winter’s not going to be easy. The gardeners and kitchen staff have been working so hard with the harvest, preserving fruit in jars and growing potatoes inside, in a newly designated food station for crops so we can still eat well in the coming months. The demand for warmer clothes and reinforcing garments has had me knitting, sewing and repairing from dawn ‘til dusk.

Two hands slide over my shoulders. I turn, startled, feeling relieved when I see Commander Hicks smiling down at me. I shouldn’t have been surprised it was him. No one else touches me like that.

“Are you coming inside?” he asks gently. “It’s getting cold.”

I place my hand over his as I look back out to the scenery. The view is stunning, surrounded by green, trees and rolling hill in the distance. This view in the middle of nowhere along with the office is my own little safe zone, clearing my head from our reality. The sun sets in the west. Wisps of white and pink clouds streak the sky. A cold breeze blows strands of hair over my face. I squeeze Hicks’ hand.

“Ok.”

Taking his hand, we head back inside. He’s so warm. I want to wrap myself around him, melt into him, so I can be one with this warmth that never seems to leave him. The same warmth that blankets me at night, in strong arms, cuddled up to a warm chest, warm lips on my forehead, warm hands prowling my body as he makes love to me.

Inside, we’re greeted with a comforting aroma of hot butter and vegetables. Mrs. Barrett’s making her famous cottage pie for everyone again. It’s gone down a hit with Hicks’ men, whom this short, stout old lady treats like her own grandsons. I look around the corridors. No one else is around. They must all be in the canteen getting ready for dinner. I interlock my fingers in Hicks’.

“Shall we grab a drink?” I ask. “I can finish off that blanket before the bell rings.”

I start towards the office but Hicks stops me, looping his arms around my waist tilting my chin up to look at him with his finger.

“Sarah,” he says. ‘You’ve been working hard enough lately. Take the night off. The blanket can wait until tomorrow.”

“But –“

“No buts.” His brow furrows, eyes concerned but soft as he brushes a strand of hair from my face. “You need some time to decompress or it’s not healthy. So, you’re taking the night off, and I’m going to take care of you, ok? Commander’s orders.”

The corners of his lips turn up in a boyish grin. I blush.

“Ok. You win,’ I concede. ‘But I pour the drinks!”

A loud, low buzz reverberates through the compound. Dinner is ready. Pulling me tighter against him, Hicks places a soft kiss on my forehead.

“Alright, come on. You know if I keep Mrs. Barrett waiting she’ll have my head.”

*

Pouring a drink was not an option tonight. As I hoped wouldn’t happen, he was called to an ‘urgent matter’ before we even sat down for dinner. Of course he had to leave, he’s the Commander, but of course, not without Mrs. Barrett boxing up some cottage pie for him. She’s grown so used to it she had it boxed up in advance. I’ve grown used to not expect our little dates to be set in stone.

Pulling on my knitted socks, one pair of many I’ve made since arriving, I slide under the covers, pulling them up to my chin. It’s cold tonight, colder than the others. In my quarters, what was once the old utility closet, the radiator buzzes. We’re still waiting for another drop on fuel for heating. I hope the ‘urgent matter’ is not another delay.

I reach up to the bedside table for my diary and pen. I flick through the pages to the back. The words are so small now. I don’t know what I’ll do with my thoughts when the last few blank pages eventually run out. Maybe scratch the days into the wall with pen, something to keep me occupied when I can’t sleep. Clicking my pen, I set to work.

Thursday 27th October

Mrs. Barrett made cottage pie again. As always, it was delicious. Commander Hicks (it still feels strange calling him Tom) keeps saying I need to go easier on myself (and he’s right) but I want to make sure we’ve got enough supplies for when winter comes. Honestly, I think I might just finish them off and not tell him.

Wadding my pen in between the pages, I place the diary back on the table. Maybe I should go now to finish the blanket, I think, but decide against it. If Hicks caught me, I know it might earn me a light admonishing, perhaps even over his knee. Perhaps that’s exactly what I want. We’ve found we both like this way of flirting behind closed doors. I’ve always had my kinks. Turns out he has too. He’s so used to being in charge all the time, he rather likes the cat-and-mouse of some…playful defiance in me, and of course, what we both enjoy, putting me back in my place.

My thighs squeeze together at the thought. I’m aching for a little domination. I just hope he’s not too tired when he sees me. I check the time on my watch. It’s past ten. The need for him is keeping me from sleep, so what harm can it do to take the initiative? Throwing off the covers, I twist the doorknob and head down the barren corridor to the General’s Office.

*

“What are you doing?”

Hicks stands in the doorway, arms folded with a stern expression. The rhythmic clicking of knitting needles fills the room. The fire spits and crackles, the knitted yarn now reaching my feet as more joins from the ball on the desk. His much-loved bottle of bourbon from the drinks cabinet sits next to it, a splash of rich brown liquid in a whiskey glass beside it. I look up from my work.

“Knitting,” I say simply, the needles clicking faster between my fingers.

“I told you to get an early night,” he says. The sternness in his voice excites me. “And you’re drinking my bourbon?

The corner of my lip turns up as I take the glass, my mischievous eyes not leaving his as I down the bourbon in one. It’s strong and delicious, the richness sliding smoothly down my throat. I set back to knitting, feigning nonchalance. Hicks’ eyes burn into me. I fight the urge not to giggle.

“You never said I couldn’t drink it.”

When I look up, Hicks’ brow furrows. My stomach flutters.

“True, but you know how much I like that drink, kitten.”

There it is. Kitten.

“Kitten, don’t test me. I’ve had a long day. Now behave.”

The sparkle in my eye says it all. Defiantly, I tilt my chin up at him.

“Make me.”

Hicks’ eyes darken, his hand tightening slightly round my throat.

“So,” he murmurs. “That’s the game you want to play?”

He spins me round and I’m bent over the desk, my hair wrapped around his fist. His hips press against my backside. I can already feel how hard he is against me through my pyjama pants. Pulling my head back, his hand wraps around my throat, not hard enough to choke me, but firm enough to let me know exactly who is in charge.

“Is this what you want, kitten?”

He kisses my cheek, taking his hand from my throat to run it between my legs. I squirm underneath him, but he pins me, taking my arms behind my back, holding my wrists with one hand while he returns to massaging my clit. I hear a growl and I can’t help but giggle, much to his amusement. He loves the resistance, we both do, but we especially love when amidst all of that, I finally submit.

“You know…” He tucks his fingers under my waistband, yanking them and my underwear down in one fell swoop. “I wasn’t going to give you what you want….”

I fake a struggle, trying to stand back up, but it’s effortless for Hicks to pin me down, my cheek resting against the cool, old leather sewn into the top of the desk. The heady aroma fills my nostrils, his strength on me making me all the more wet as he runs two fingers either side of my labia.

“But, seeing as we haven’t had much time to play…” he says. Smack! A swift, hard spank lands on my bare ass. “I guess I can indulge you just a little…”

I gasp as his finger sinks inside me, a soft moan reverberating against the leather.

“What do we say, kitten?”

He goes deeper. I whimper.

“Thank you Sir…”

Hicks’ hand pinning me down eases off, warmly rubbing the small of my back as his fingers slide out of me, massaging my clit with my own wetness.

“Hmmmm. Good girl.”

I’m elated at the sound of an unbuckling belt. Yes, I need this. I need him. I’ve been craving him so much these last few weeks. Next thing I know, I’m pulled upright, an arm snaked tight around my waist, my back flat against Hicks’ solid chest as he rests his cock against my ass, his lips at my ear.

“Knees,” he orders. “Now.

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Guiding me firmly to my knees, he takes no time to shove his cock into my mouth. The taste of him on my tongue almost makes me come right there and then.

“Yeah, that’s it…’ he groans. ‘Suck that dick, kitten.”

I lap greedily from shaft to tip, taking him as deep as I can before I start to gag. Grabbing two fistfuls my hair, he pulls me off his cock, a gasping breath filling my lungs. Hick’s takes my chin in his hand, tilting it up to look at him. His eyes are fiery, dark, making all the more wet between my legs.

“I’m not going to be gentle with you…” he says. “Is that ok?”

A broad smile spreads across my cheeks.

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

He grins wicked before taking hold of my head and sliding his cock into my mouth once again. Both hands in my hair, he fucks my face, rough, hard, letting me go only to catch my breath before starting all over again. My mind quiets, my hands running up the tops of his thighs as he gets his fill. Growling, grunting and groaning serenades me, spurring me further into my submission.

Fuck! That’s it baby…take it, right to the back…Arrgghh fuck!

Such a good girl for me…

Is this what you wanted? Me fucking your face like the little slut you are? Who’s slut are you? That’s it, you’re my fucking slut.

By the time he’s satisfied, I’m dripping between my legs. Lifting me to my feet, he captures my mouth in a slew of deep, passionate kisses. It’s impossible to resist him. His arms wind around my waist and mine around his shoulders, pulling each other closer, my fingers grazing over his freshly shaved jaw, his lips velvety against mine. Warmth radiates from his chest as a low moan vibrates in his throat. I melt against his frame. Every time I’m with him, in his arms, I bask in warmth. I am safe with him. We can forget the outside world. We can forget the constant fear about the future from one day to the next, when things will get back to ‘normal’. We can just be us. Not the Commander and civilian, just Tom and Sarah.

Pressing his hand on my lower back, he guides me round and back down to the desk, bent over, when he slides the tip of cock along my pussy. Pressing the swollen head against my clit, he teases me until I’m begging him to be inside me.

‘Please…?’ His lips graze my cheek, teasing for a kiss but pulling back when I try to meet him. I groan.

‘Please Sir… Please…’

Hicks’ weight presses down on me and he places a feather light kiss on my lips.

‘Seeing as you asked so nicely…’

With that, he fills me, stretching me, not giving me any time to grow accustomed to him before he takes my hips, thrusting fast and hard. My moans vibrate into the leather on the desk, growing more with each thrust. As promised, he’s not gentle and I love it, my hair in his fist, grunting, fucking all the pent up stress out of his system, taking it out on me, with me, giving way to pure baser instinct.

My head spins, surrendering to him. I need him. I need him to give me everything he has, everything he wants to give. He pulls me up, wrapping his hand around my throat as his hot breath fills my ear. He pumps into me relentless, merciless. I want it to hurt. I want to feel sore tomorrow. I want to feel him as I walk to breakfast tomorrow, the mischievous glint in our eye as we sit together the only giveaway of what we’ve done.

Hicks’ hips jerk, pushing me back against the desk. Harsh grunts build louder until his climax all but roars out of him, me clenching all the tighter around him as I feel him release inside me.

He collapses on top of me, chest glistening with sweat as it presses against my back. We pant together in silence, both our minds a haze. When our breath finally steadies, he lifts himself off me, but not before kissing my cheek first. My cheek revels in the cold leather as he pulls up his trousers, straightening himself out. I remain bent over, hair a mess and cheeks burning pink, watching as he takes his place by the fire in the armchair he relaxes in almost every night.

“Bring me a drink, kitten,’ he smiles. ‘It’s been a long day.”

A satisfied smile tugging at my lips, I’m more than happy to oblige.

FIN.

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