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Chapter 11
by grimbous
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Pre-Breakfast Chat
Gabby was right, I was absolutely famished! I hadn't eaten since the fall the day before yesterday.
I can hear her moving the heavy chunks of concrete and metal that I used to secure the outer edge of the shelter. Looking around I soon find my spear and walking stick. I take it then start moving forward to help her open our tent up once more, as she had done the previous morning. The support sticks are put up again, her doing one and me doing the other, and I am able to look out into the clearing beyond.
I see she had built the fire roughly in the center of the area. Just a small simple cooking fire. Beside it she had dragged the broken windshield that had been covering the wood to use as a work area where she was gutting the toads and skewering them on sticks. I see some general flotsam of junk and dead vegetation around the area, blown in from the storm last night. Her shirt, hole in the shoulder and the dark stain of blood all down the one side, hung from a jutting out piece of metal. It looks like she had washed it and had hung it out to dry.
Gabriela was right. It felt cool and smelt fresh. The melodic call of a song bird could just be heard in the distance. The whole world seemed more alive in the calm after the chaos of the storm. With a limp, less so than yesterday, I step out of the shelter and walk a few steps. I stretch upward to my full height. “Unhhhhhhhh.” I moan as arch my back and stretch out my arms. God it felt good.
Gabriela stands between me and the fire. Her wide eyes run up my muscular nearly seven foot frame. “Wow! You're really big!”
I look down at her. “Gabby small.” With my throat the way it was now I could finally communicate with her, though I had to keep the number of words to a minimum. Anything more than two or three and I'd start a coughing fit. I must sound like a neanderthal, probably just the way she thought I would normally talk, but it is what I could manage at the moment.
She grins as her eyes settle on the shorts and tank top she'd gotten me yesterday. “The clothes fit...sort of. The shirt is too tight, isn't it?”
I shrug as I smile back at her. I was so happy she was okay, I still couldn't believe it after the worry and panic of last night. “Tight good.” I reply. Reaching up with my injured hand I smoosh my big breasts under my forearm. “Tight sexy...yes?”
Her eyes widen. “Oh! Uhh...sure. Sure Willow.” I see a delightfully cute blush darken her cheeks as her eyes flit across my too tight tank top and my pushed up cleavage.
I saw no point in beating around the bush with her. As a raider I generally just went after what I wanted. I liked her, I really liked her, and I could finally express it. I would never **** anything with her but before the fates required us to split up I deeply hoped a physical relationship could develop between us.
I widen my tusky grin, trying to make it as friendly as possible. I look over her bare shoulders arms, and upper chest. I can't help but think about the fact that she was completely nude under those overalls. “Gabriela sexy too.” I say in my raspy voice.
She looks momentarily stunned. The blush darkens a shade. She then squirms and glances to my groin before spinning away from me. “Ohh, oh my. Oh...uh...thank you Willow, but um... Um...oh my....I...I better get to cooking these toads.” She hurries forward and resumes her work cutting and scooping the entrails out of our breakfast. I watch her hunched and squatted over her work, shooting me bashful glances. Maybe I was coming on too strong but I knew of no other way.
As I start to walk around the area, just doing a quick perusal of the perimeter, I am thankful the dry thirsty ground had soaked up most of the water from the storm and that it had had enough time to dry out a little bit. The ground was wet, and a bit of mud stuck to my bare feet, but the clearing wasn't a sloppy or sticky muck hole. As I move I realize the splint could come off today. My ankle still hurt but the support was slowing me down more than it was helping me at this point.
I spy our water bottle, full of fresh clean water, sitting beside Gabby. I hurry over with the idea of taking a drink. Bending over I reach for it...Smack! I recoil my hand in surprise as Gabriela had snapped out with her hand and slapped my wrist. “That's for breakfast!” She scolds me. “There's a little water left in the jug, drink that.” She motions off toward the shelter. “I brought this for breakfast.”
She continues on, just now finishing with gutting the frogs. I stand looking down at her and lean on my cane. A low chuckle shakes my torso. Even in my condition I could end this little woman in the blink of an eye, yet she felt confident enough and safe enough to smack my hand like a naughty child. I found this hilarious. Gabby is taken by the contagious laughter and lets out a little giggle herself.
She looks up from the toads. “If you're walking you can be working. If you could clean up in there a bit that would be good. Keep the rats and bugs away.” Yeah, good thinking. The storm had kept the rats hidden away over the night, but they would soon sniff out the smell of old blood. I head back to the tent.
She calls after me as I limp toward the shelter. “And pull the blanket out, let's air it out while it is nice.” I shake my head. Seemed like she felt like she was in charge for the time being. So be it, I didn't mind that one bit. I pick up a half torn plastic bag as it wafts by on the gentle morning breeze.
I hunch over and enter, then sit down hard on my left buttock. The area still stunk of whiskey and sweat and blood. I finish the last of the water in the plastic jug then turn to cleaning up the bloody bandages and such. I stuff it all in the bag as I watch my companion set up all of the toad skewers over the fire, leaning the skewer sticks together like in a conical tipi over the crackling flame.
Gabby being Gabby had started up another of her one sided conversations. “I read once that frog legs were quite a delicacy in the old world.” She laughs. “Imagine my toads here being served in one of those fancy restaurants? All those people in nice clothes munching on these guys.” She shifts a few of the sticks. “Found these ones all together, probably mating or something. Wish we had some salt. We should always have salt, don't you think?” I liked the way she said 'we'.
“Smells good.” I say.
She looks over toward me and smiles. “You're probably so hungry anything would smell good.” She looks down at the mess of entrails left on the old windshield. “Um...do you want to eat this?”
I cringe and shake my head. “Yuck.” I clear my throat. “Make...sick. Frog legs...ahem...grmm...French food. Yes?”
She looks surprised. “Yes! That's right Willow, I read they served them in French restaurants.” A look of new found respect slowly settles into her. “How...?”
I swallow again and tap the front of my neck. “Throat...burn...can't talk...grmm...much. Not dumb.” I rub my throat and swallow again, fuck this hurt but I was trying to make a point. “Orcs...not dumb.”
She nods slowly. “No. No you're not, are you.” She shakes her head. “Oh boy, I had you so wrong. We were taught, in the colonies, we were taught...that you Orcs were just savages. Just a step above animals.” She takes a deep breath. “And, to be honest, with what I've seen out here...I thought they were right.” She looks guilty as she says. “God Willow, I'm sorry I called you Filth. I didn't...I didn't know.”
I put up my hand to assuage her. “It's...okay.” I clear my throat. “Understand.” I point to the spot she had been ****. “Other Orc...garbage. I hate...him.” I struggle to quell a round of coughs.
I pull our blanket out and make my way to hang it out over a semi clean chunk of rubble. I make sure it is fully exposed to the warm sunlight. I make my way back to the fire and sit down heavily beside Gabriela.
She is looking at me curious. She goes from a squat to sitting down onto her knees, shifting closer to me as she does so. “So...you're smart. That's good to hear.” She tilts her head. “But...then...why are you guys always fighting. Always attacking the colonies and stuff?”
I give her a hard stare. “Not all...grmmm...Orcs...raiders.” A lot of us were, our strong bodies made us ideal for battle, but Orcs were as varied as humans or any other type of mutant.
“No, I suppose not. I've seen some of you as scroungers. But I kept my distance.”
“Orcs...need survive...too.” My voice was almost gone. “I fight...I take...I survive.”
“But...” She had so much she wanted to say but she was choosing her words very carefully. “...but, what if...what if someone can't fight? What do they do? Do you take from them?”
My proud words from a second ago drain away. The answer was yes, of course I take from them. I take what I need and if they don't cause a fuss I leave them alive. Seeing her wide earnest brown eyes looking up at me I suddenly wasn't so sure about my way of life. In a harsh whisper I simply say. “...I survive...”
She is looking at me closely. “All that fighting. Do you ever...get scared? Do Orcs get scared?”
I nod. Watching her bleed out last night had been the most terrifying moment of my life. Oh yes, Orcs did get scared.
She lays her soft hand on my knee. “It's okay to be scared. When...when I had to leave home, my Mom said that...it was okay to be scared. That being scared keeps you alive.” I looked at her honest face. I had the feeling she was scared all the time. What a hell that must be.
I lay my hand over hers, totally eclipsing it. I can feel her tense a bit but she soon relaxes. “Gabby...don't...be...scared...” I cough. “...of...me.”
She smiles, her teeth perfect and gleaming white, and she edges a bit closer. “I'm not scared of you Willow. Not anymore.” A stare into her rich brown eyes. It suddenly gets very quiet between us.
When it gets too much for her she looks away. Pulling her hand from under mine she returns her attention to the toad skewers and begins turning each sizzling chunk of meat over to cook on the other side. I take two fresh dry pieces of wood and carefully add them to the fire.
She says softly. “Willow...it really is such a lovely name. So lovely. I like it. I like you Willow.”
I liked her too.
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My Wasteland Angel
A Post-Apocalypse Romance
A Post-Apocalypse Romance
- Tags
- Futa, Futanari, Dickgirl, Orc, Handjob, Transgender, Futa on Female, Slow Burn
Updated on Aug 1, 2018
by grimbous
Created on May 15, 2018
by grimbous
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