The New Owner Part Two - Welcome Home (COMMISSION)
The slavegirl auction had been a raging success, according to the slavers. All nine girls had been sold for great profit, enabling the female gang to stay in business, and though they still had a good collection of captives back in their Vault, they now had to capture more young girls to sell in future auctions. Naturally both the slavers and their loyal customers were only all too eager to see what other treasures of the Wasteland could be brought into a life of bondage.
The Lone Wanderer had, as expected, been the most profitable slave. She had gone for more than twice the price of two slavegirls, and naturally both the buyer and the slavers were overjoyed, even if some of the slaver women would very much miss having the Lone Wanderer to fuck and play with every day, as they had grown accustomed to.
But all the slaves remained chained to their posts on the platforms until well after the auction had concluded, remaining on display as the buyers – many of which could now add new sex-slaves to their personal collections – celebrated the function with the slavers, indulging in moonshine, Jet and other sorts of booze and stims. After a few hours, the buyers came to collect their new property.
The Lone Wanderer had been sold to a relatively young man, perhaps just a few years older than herself, who had arrived in a nuclear-powered car he had somehow restored to working order and had customized so that he easily could lock up and transport a prisoner. He had the slavers restrain the Lone Wanderer in the passenger-seat of his vehicle with her arms bound behind the back of it and her legs bound to the floor of the car with ankle cuffs, making sure to put her in such a position that her chest pressed out so that her new owner could feel up her tits at his leisure as he drove. And so, after receiving an invitation to the next auction in the future, they drove away from the settlement, the Lone Wanderer and her new owner drove off from the auction-grounds.
The drive had been long, and the man was clearly pleased with his purchase, expensive though she had been. After an hour or so of driving he had been unable to restrain his excitement and he pulled over, yanked the ball-gag out of the redhead’s mouth and ordered her to put her mouth to good use sucking his cock. He cautioned her that any sort of disobedience or attempt to do anything she was not supposed to would result in severe punishment, and backed up his words by brandishing a cattle prod from next to his seat, which sizzled with noisy electricity. Knowing she had no choice but to obey, the Lone Wanderer spent the rest of the several hours-long drive with her new owner’s cock down her throat as they traversed the empty Wasteland, him having one hand on the steering wheel and one hand firmly grabbing her flaming hair, keeping her in place and thrusting his hard manhood up when pushing her head down.
“You live for this cock, now.” He had said. “Best get used to having it down your throat.” And the first time he came in her mouth, jets of thick hot cum overflowing, he ordered the Lone Wanderer to swallow every drop, then added “And you may as well learn to love that taste immediately. You’ll have it several times a day.”
After a good while, the car started slowing down. With her head only pointing down her owner’s groin the Lone Wanderer had no idea where they were, but could tell by the shadows growing over the car that they were at the foot of some mountain. Shortly after the darkness became even dimmer, and the sounds outside as the car drove indicated that they had entered a cave.
“We’re here, slave.” He said with relish and switched off the car. He pulled the Lone Wanderer’s head away from his saliva-drenched cock and shoved a ball-gag back into her mouth, securing it tightly. He exited the car and released his new property from the car’s restraints, but naturally made sure her arms were still bound behind her back. He attached a leash to the collar around her neck, and dragged her out of the car.
When she stepped out of the car, her naked form exposed to the coldness of the damp cave, the Lone Wanderer was faced with a familiar sight. In front of her was a Vault-Tech “Seal-N-Safe” Vault Door Model No. 343, unquestionably an entrance to one of the Great Vaults, many of which the Lone Wanderer had explored in her time. This door was missing numbers, however, so placing its location, former purpose and function was nigh impossible.
“Welcome home.” The man said with a grin, standing behind the Lone Wanderer and unashamedly letting his hands fondle and squeeze his slave’s tits, playfully pinching the nipples and making the Lone Wanderer yelp from behind the fat gag.
Still holding her by the leash, the man walked over to the password-protected console next to the great door, which blinked green with electrical life, meaning the machinery seemed to be in working order, which was very rare. The slavers who had captured her had managed to restore an old Vault to working order, but they had been dozens. Had this man found this Vault in functioning order, or had it been like the Lone Wanderer’s old Vault, 101, which had remained sealed ever since the Great War?
The man punched in a series of commands and pass-phrases, and shortly after the door slowly began to pull into the mountain, metal screeching against metal whilst an orange light flickered in tune to warning klaxons.
“Welcome home.” He snickered, and pulled the Lone Wanderer inside, letting her turn around to see the Vault door slide shut, cutting her off from the outside world once again.
He dragged his slave by the leash, leading her deeper into the Vault. Inside was well lit, and comfortably warm to her naked body. The Lone Wanderer was astonished to learn – as her new owner clearly was very pleased with his achievement, but with good reason – that he was the Vault’s only inhabitant, and that he had spent five years repairing, cleaning and furnishing it, restoring it to fully functional order. When he had discovered it it had been a burnt ruin with signs of fighting, but now it was as pristine as it surely had been when it was first constructed. And the Lone Wanderer quickly realized that his Vault was quite similar to the slavers’ one, for he had clearly been meaning to use it as his sex-dungeon from the beginning.
Room after room were filled with every sex-toy known to man – and possibly some that were unknown – and furnished with cuffs, ropes, chains, whips and everything one could possibly need. It seemed every room had a particular function, and one of the rooms they passed the Lone Wanderer could not help but take notice of a very nefarious-looking chair – one of the many things her new owner seemingly had built himself from scratch – with straps hanging from it and a big vibrating-dildo attached to a machine aimed between the legs of whoever would be sitting in it.
She would, the Lone Wanderer knew.
“Come here, pretty.” The man dragged the Lone Wanderer into another room. “It is time I really discover what my caps bought.”