Bound as the World Burns: A Post Apocalyptic BDSM Romance Read online

  Still topless, he strode back over to the table they’d neglected to use the night before, pulled out the chair so it faced away from the wall. “Where you from, Cassidy?” he asked as he bit into his meal.

  “Here,” she shrugged, sitting down in the chair and placing her plate in front of her, hesitating before taking a daintier bite, smiling at the taste. It was something special, this little sandwich, this shared meal. “I was going to head across the country for school, though, ‘til this happened...”

  Nodding slowly as he listened he took another slow look around the bunker. “So you got in here at the start, huh?” he stated more than asked. “You were a lucky one. Did someone take you in here?”

  He didn’t presume she managed that feat on her own even.

  “Yea, I was walking and there was a big noise... a guy I was talking to while waiting for my parents to pick me up just kind of... dragged me here. Well, most of the way. I didn’t...” she trailed off, her brows furrowing. “I don’t know what happened to him. He just disappeared.”

  Listening to her attentively, he looked over at her, studying her face and her body. “You pray a lot, Cassidy?” he asked, having noticed the rosary beads when he awoke, the man obviously a keen observer. “Go break open the apple juice, pour me a tall glass,” he instructed.

  “Yea,” she said as she abandoned her sandwich to go obey, her motions so swift. “Spent a lot more time doing it since getting here, I guess. More free time, but it hasn’t done much good before you showed up.” Those words were said with such kindness and warmth as she placed the glass in front of him.

  Finishing the first half of his sandwich, Leon reached to her, put his arm around her and pulled her into his lap. With such ease he positioned her so that she sat down upon one of his hard thighs, her legs in between his as he pulled her plate nearer so she could continue eating. “Well I guess all those prayers were savin’ up for when it really counts,” he said with a broad smile, his free hand still at her hip.

  She felt so loved. It was a feeling of physical affection and praise she hadn’t experienced before, and she was just eating it up. She was a natural submissive, relaxation coming from obeying his orders and hearing his praise.

  Her back pressed against him and he could smell the shampoo in her hair as she spoke, “I was starting to lose hope.”

  Rubbing her hip and slender waist he gave her a squeeze as he lifted the glass of warm juice, downing half of it in a mere moment. “No need for that any more then,” he said, letting his gaze travel down over the pretty young woman in her prim little school outfit, ending at those knee socks and black shoes. “I’ll keep you safe and fed somehow, don’t you worry,” he intoned, smiling to her as he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

  She trusted him. She didn’t know why—surely she wouldn’t have prior to the collapse of civilization—but it likely had to do with the fact that she hadn’t a lot of options. She could trust him or die alone in a bunker with no one else around.

  Her hand pressed to his forearm as she ate, rubbing that weathered, veiny skin beneath her pale fingers. “I won’t leave you,” she reassured him, as though he needed her to.

  With a light chuckle at that he went back to eating his sandwich. The moment, however, was shortly interrupted by a rumble, a shaking that began to quake the entire bunker. It emanated from below, and the food on the shelves rattled, the lights blinking for just a moment, off and on.

  Leon put both of his arms around Cassidy, holding her to him securely as they watched the shaking crest and subside. There hadn’t been such an occurrence since the first week of the disaster.

  She was practically in tears, leaning against him and gripping his arms as if he could save her from this hell. “What’s that?” she managed in a shrill, panicky voice.

  Cassidy hadn’t been above ground for the first week of chaos that shook the world, but Leon had. Holding her to his bare chest he kissed her forehead, her temple, her reddish-blonde hair.

  “It’s nothin’,” he reassured, “It’s passed now again anyhow.” The concerned look on his face was pushed aside as he smiled to her. “Don’t go fretting,” he urged, his large hands rubbing her delicate, pale form.

  She couldn’t help but fret. She was a natural born worrier, and even his calming words and the soothing rubs of his hands could not stop her trembling. It was though, once more, her body was trying to escape to be within his, to hide from reality.

  It took some time for him to soothe and calm her, but finally when he did he took charge once more. Instructing her to tidy up after their meal, he took a quick inspection of their stocks and got dressed. As she finished up she saw him clearing out his backpack and assembling his outside gear, including rifle and jacket.

  “You’re not leaving,” she protested, her eyes widened with alarm once more, her back straightened to a rigid posture.

  It took him a moment to finish removing the excess materials from his pack before he turned to her, crouched as he was and saw the look of alarm on her face.

  “Cassidy,” he said and stood up, moving to her and taking hold of one hand as he stroked over her curly hair with the other. “I’m just gonna head out and check the surrounding area. See what damage that quake did,” he said in his confident, gruff voice. “I’ll be back.”

  Her lower lip trembled as she stared at him. Though he’d managed to calm her, the prospect of being left alone again was a bit much. “But what if you don’t make it!” she whined, her hand moving to grip his. “Stay with me?”

  Leaning down closer to her height, he kissed her forehead, “I’ll be back,” he assured softly. “We just don’t have a lot of supplies, and that quake made me worry,” he explained. “There’s a store nearby, but if those rumbles continue, it might collapse and we could lose the best source of food we have in reach. So I need to bring as much back here as I can.”

  With a broad, warm smile he pulled her in against his chest, “I’m just doing what I gotta do to look out for you.”

  Her face fell, but she knew he was right. Or, at least, she thought she knew. Nodding her head against his broad, muscular chest, she asked, “What if there’s another quake?”

  Those worries of hers kindled something in him, however, for if he didn’t make it back, this would be his last moment with her. “I’ll only be gone a few hours,” he said, “hopefully be back long before that becomes a concern. And while I’m away, there’s a few things you’ll do,” he began caressing her hair.

  “You’re going to take that clipboard and pencil, go through everything in the whole bunker. And I mean everything, Cassidy. Going to note it all, and how many of it we have. Staplers, screws, everything. I want a quick list to consult, so I have a better idea of things I can work with or what we need.” He angled her face up towards him, “And you’ll check the list over afterwards. And if you finish that, you’ll spend the rest of your time prettying yourself up for when I get back, got it?”

  His tasks had a way of calming her, of keeping her mind busy on more practical things rather than the pressing concerns about what could happen, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, Leon,” she murmured, but she was still reluctant to pull away from him. “Just... be careful if it happens again, okay?”

  Lifting her hand he kissed one of her slender little pale fingers, his hazel eyes locked with hers, “I’ll come back to you. Don’t you worry. You’re my gal now, remember?” that possessive husk to his voice again as his other hand slipped down from the back of her head over her spine. “So I’ve got a God-given duty to protect you,” the man reassured her. “Protect you, keep you safe and cared for.”

  He so easily played the naive woman’s song, and she was all too eager to eat it up. There was no way he’d step back on his word. Not now. Not after making her that promise in front of God. Even in the bunker, underneath the ruins of society, He still watched over her and had given her this protector.

  Leaning down to her ear, he murmured to her in his hard voic
e, “Now go over to the table, lay your palms flat against it. Bend over, spread your feet apart, and I’ll be with you in a few minutes to say goodbye.” He kissed her ear then, rose up and released her from his hold with a light pat on her bubbly rear.

  She only paused a second to ruminate on his order, her face screwed up in confusion, but still, as he left her, she did as instructed. It was strange for her, and she found herself second guessing his order, wondering if she was doing it right, or if this was, indeed, what he wanted. It was hard for her to understand why he’d ask her to do something so strange, but she didn’t question it. She couldn’t question her saviour.

  Cassidy couldn’t see him, only hear as he moved about, gathering his things and getting ready for the expedition out. It was, true to his words, a few—long—minutes before he had assembled them and came to her again.

  He just stood behind her at first, and said nothing. Did nothing, until the first slight tingling of sensation was felt in her calf. She wasn’t even sure it was him at first or some random itch, but then it became slightly more pronounced, the feel of his hand moving over her sock until it crossed to her pale thigh flesh so lightly.

  She tried to look back at him, but she couldn’t see much more than his shoulder with how he was bent and positioned. Her leg twitched, and she murmured lightly, “What are you doing?” She didn’t understand this at all, and she wondered vaguely if she’d done something wrong.

  “Look straight ahead at the wall,” he told her in his heavy voice, brooking no disobedience. She felt then his left hand rest itself at the small of her back as those fingers of his so gingerly traced up along her inner thigh. It was so faint and light, somewhere between a tickle and a caress, but it created a tingle of pleasurable sensation nonetheless.

  Her face moved to the wall, but her body began to tremble. It wasn’t fear, not exactly, though at the same time it was. It was an uncertainty, an anticipation of something happening that she couldn’t understand. The unknown was scary to her, and yet she didn’t want to displease him, to make him unhappy.

  As her body trembled under his hand, it was only her subconscious that became aware of the interesting new sensation underlying her personal fears and emotions.

  Though he was so large, his hand so strong and tough, that light touch upon her was so slight it was barely perceptible at times. Especially as it disappeared upon nearing the nude crux of her thighs only to start the faint tingle of his contact upon the back of her knee, moving from there. He never said a word, never budged but for that calculated motion of his one hand until she felt his breath upon her ear as he spoke, “Shut your eyes.”

  She did so, squeezing them tight at first before relaxing them, her breathing growing a lot quicker. She’d forgotten about her panties among the orders of the day, and she suddenly felt so exposed, his hand touching along her in an almost playful manner. It was strange, and different, and she couldn’t help but squirm for a moment before stopping herself.

  It was warm in the bunker, especially with the new added body of her burly protector, so the absence of clothes didn’t truly stick out. Not until his finger grazed so near to her no-longer-virginal folds without actually touching them.

  In fact, that light, teasing touch seemed to barely caress everywhere but that sacred quim God had gifted her. Even grazing up over the pert swell of her rear beneath her skirt, teased between the cleft of that valley between those two cheeks, even rounded that inviolable pucker nestled betwixt.

  The only sensation other than that hand was the sound of his breathing on her ear, that masculine husk that grew the longer his touch caressed her.

  It was growing harder and harder not to squirm, to cry out, to beg him to stop and to touch her all at once. She could feel how red her face had grown and she hoped he couldn’t tell. She didn’t want him to know just what type of effect he was having on her, but as her scent became more detectable in the air it was harder and harder to mask her arousal and desire for him.

  She needed him to touch her, to feel out her sex and still that desperate throbbing, but no matter how much she willed it, he didn’t.

  Long past that point where she doubted herself, his motions continued, so teasing and light, so unfathomably gentle yet provocative. She felt as if she could break down into sobs as his touch retracted yet again, and in that dark voice he husked into her ear, “Good girl.” So simple, yet the words, drenched in his masculine authority, felt so complimentary. It made her miss the sound of his zipper coming undone, and she only became aware when the plush press of his massive, hard cock began to push his length into her slickened pussy.

  Her body, her nerves had been worked up to such a point that the sudden, stiff cock touching her sent a jolt of electricity through her. It was agony and desire, ecstasy and pain all at once, her body on alert and drawn into such a state by his tender touches.

  It was exquisite, and had nothing to compare it to in her life. She just wanted more, and she asked God for forgiveness.

  She got exactly that: more, for he pushed himself into her until she was crammed full of his manhood. He fit so snugly inside her, spread her tight canal wide. With the powerful motions of his hips, he began to pump that girth into her. It was careful by his standards, but the pace quickly outdid her deflowering of the day before, the needful throbbing cock inside her working itself to a frenzy of pleasure in her slickly ready cunt.

  It didn’t hurt, not like last time, but there was still a dull ache that was overpowered by a raw need that she hadn’t known before. She needed him, needed this, and she couldn’t fathom how or why this had occurred. What made this change happen in her. She was always such a good girl, valedictorian, and now she was hiding out in the shadows of society with some navy man having sex with her.

  She couldn’t understand how it felt so good, what the cause of it was, and why she needed, more than anything, to please him.

  It was all done in such blissful silence but for the sound of his heavy breathing and light moaning. It wasn’t until he buried his length into her again and quaked with release that he spoke once more, muttering “You like that, don’t you, girl?” A flood of his seed filled her as he emptied his loins in that tight, puffy pink pussy of hers.

  She gasped, though he had no way of knowing if it was because of the crass words, or because of the way his cock bulged and filled her so eagerly. She didn’t understand the risks she was taking with him except for the moral dilemma, and so certain was she that God had sent this man to take care of her, that she completely justified that away.

  Cassidy bit in her lip to recover from that groan and she shivered against him. It felt so right. How could she not enjoy something that felt so... remarkable?

  A hand came up, caressed her cheek as it brushed her curly red locks from her face. He kissed beneath her ear on the other side. “Good girl,” he murmured again approvingly. “Very good girl,” and he nibbled, suckled then kissed her ear, his cock giving a few throbs of desire even as it deflated so gradually within her.

  She felt so proud of herself. She hadn’t been certain she was doing what he wanted initially, but his praise made her insides sing, her head becoming a bit fuzzy as her ego inflated. With it, then, came a greater desire to please. His compliments and praise were like a drug to her, and she wanted more. Constantly more.

  Instead, once the sweet caresses of his hand, lips, teeth and tongue ended, he retracted from her completely. Even that pleasant sensation of being filled by his manhood retreated, leaving her empty, gaping and seeping his thick seed.

  Things were quiet for a bit, and she heard him move to the lavatory. Upon returning he watched her a while before his voice broke the silence, “Get up now sweetie, you did great. Perfect in fact.” A wide smile was on his face as he dried his hands in a towel, his pants all done up, sweater, jacket and boots in place as he was ready to head out once more.

  She shifted, and it was for the first time she realized how sore she was from staying in the same pos
ition for so long. Her muscles ached as she stretched. She stared at him as she shifted, feeling that cum wetten her thighs, some going so far as to soak into the top of the white, knee high socks. She was so thrilled at his compliment, she didn’t even bother with it.

  “Thank you,” she whimpered out affectionately, like a pet starved for attention.

  Tossing the towel into the side room again he stepped over to her, putting his fingers through her curly locks yet again and pulling her in for a kiss. “Sweetest lady I’ve ever met,” he complimented as he crouched to her eye level better. “Shame it took the apocalypse for it to happen,” he remarked with a jovial smile.

  Her expression lighted at his joke, but she leaned after him, wanting to feel his plush, reassuring mouth on hers once more. She was so small, so smooth and pale compared to his broad, bulky, frame, and they contrasted each other so wonderfully. “Be safe?”

  Kissing her back affectionately, the domineering man who’d taken complete ownership of her in the heat of the moment evaporated to warm tenderness, “I will.” He bounced some of her plush curls in his hand and kissed her forehead. “Remember to do everything I told you,” he instructed and stood up. He rapped out a patterned knock on the metal table, “Hear that?” he asked, “Remember that pattern,” he told her, “now repeat it.”

  She did so, perfectly. She had been in band for a few years and had a good sense of rhythm. “I will,” she smiled, her body trembled with excitement and worry for him. She wanted him to stay, but she respected his commanding nature and wasn’t about to argue.

  He shouldered his now almost empty pack, did up his leather jacket and got his gun ready. “That’s the knock I’ll give when I return,” he told her, “don’t you dare open this door for anything else, you hear?” and he looked deadly serious at that. “Don’t you open it to any other sound. Don’t you talk yourself into worrying that it’s me, but I’m hurt or panicked and can’t do it right. If either of those is true, then it’s too dangerous for you to open it up anyhow, got it?” He headed to the first of the pair of doors that formed the seal to the outside world. “And lemme hear that knock again.”