Vera didn't bother to remember who carried her to Vulpes' tent, the man himself or a recruit. All she cared about was the painful exhaustion in her legs, the rawness between her legs, and the complete satisfaction that hummed pleasantly through her body.
His bed was nice, not as nice as the Lucky 38, but it was perhaps a luxury to have such a resting place in the Mojave. It did very well in nursing her back to reality, each muscle from the legs up to her shoulders slowly repairing the stress until she could move her limbs to adjust her position of comfort.
The Courier knew that what had happened wasn't the classiest of things in her days, but perhaps that didn't matter. She was going to be seen as a 'profligate whore' by these men either way, simply because she didn't have a dick, so why not milk it for all its worth?
It had been a little while before someone entered, and while Vera expected it to be Vulpes, it turned out to be a slave woman carrying a filled bucket and a rag or two.
Only after the slave had started cleaning the dirt and various bodily fluids off the Courier's body did Vulpes join her, shooing the hunched older woman out of the room dismissively with his eyes planted firmly on Vera.
He didn't seem to notice her nakedness, nor did he acknowledge the little bit of dirt on his pillow, compliments of the woman residing in it.
Instead, he glared at her in that blank sort of way; in full uniform and vaguely bringing back the rather uncomfortable memories of Nipton. She almost expected to receive a lottery ticket.
The last thought killed the afterglow, making the small woman sigh and wince as the lack of motor skills turned into throbbing thigh muscles that didn't quite get comfortable no matter how she shifted.
"You are to stay here." He finally spoke, even when not in close proximity his voice did something to the small hairs on the back of her neck. "The deal was, as you said, muggy. Therefore, if you try to leave The Fort, I will hunt you down myself. Is that understood?"
The Courier wanted so badly to be defiant and say something snarky, as she felt was expected of her. Instead, images of lounging in long white robes while being fed banana yucca fruit and juicy brahmin steak came to mind. Also, the fantasy dreamt up not so long ago of the strong, sweaty Legionaries attending her every sexual desire.
She was sure she wouldn't live like true Roman propriety, after all—this was the wasteland and she was the Courier who liked to fuck with the Legion's dastardly plans.
So, she did the most infuriating thing her fuddled mind could do, tug her sunburned shoulders up in a shrug with her dark, hooded eyes peaking up at the man experimentally.
It seemed to have the general effect she was expecting, flared nostrils and a darkened glare, but at least he didn't hit her for it.
"That wasn't a question of your preferences, profligate." He sneered. "Caesar agrees that you have many lessons to learn and many sins to confess to. He has bestowed it upon me to fix you."
Typical Legion bullshit, she scoffed in the safety of her mind, but smiled at Vulpes sweetly despite it.
"Fix me?" She gave a weakened leer as she nodded down to her legs. "You broke part of me before you could even start."
This seemed to amuse Vulpes for the briefest of seconds before he wiped the pleasant glow from his eyes, instead looking down at her rather condescendingly.
He leaned down until his breath puffed along her lips, a curl to his mouth that vaguely reminded Vera of a wolf. Certainly not a mere dog, to her irritation.
And then, a familiar slap on her already stinging rear and the wetness of his tongue on her lips. "Isn't that the point?"
Ah, yes I know, this isn't my normal work.
And trust me, this isn't the fallout story I was talking about, that one is still in progress!
I'm just kinda addicted to writing erotic fiction now, so... Lets have a party!
Oh, and thank you for the reviews and acknowledgements. You all know it makes my heart explode! In a good way!