I called her Fuck Donkey. It's what she was for: to follow me around, carry junk back from the Commonweath, and get fucked whenever I felt like it. Also, since I'm still running with Atomguard installed, she's there to feed from if I start getting peckish. If you're going to exploit a captive, you might as well be thorough about it, that's what I say. Still, "Fuck-And-Blood-Donkey" doesn't have quite the same ring to it somehow, so Fuck Donkey it is. Hey it's better than most of my girls. Generally they just get code designations like "SH-02-P". At least she gets some shred of identity.

 

Generally I keep her in handcuffs. Partly it's because slaves will join in with a fight, and there's no real challenge if you have too many people on your team. The cuffs keep her from fighting. Also, I like the idea of dragging a naked, helpless woman into combat situations where she'll depend on my for protection. Not that I'm particularly solicitous of her well-being mind, but I like the idea. Sometimes I dress her her up in respectable clothes to heighten the damsel in distress vibe. Other times, I might give her whatever looks the most slutty or humiliating. Generally though I keep her naked apart from heels, stockings and a garter belt.

 

And that's how I came to be standing in an empty museum with a handcuffed, naked, slavegirl.

 

 

There's a trick, you probably know it, where you can jump across from the church roof to the Museum of Freedom and if you judge it just right you can land on the vertibird tail. Or you can do what I d, pop a jet and try not to overshoot. Once you're there you can get in the armor, snag the minigun and head back to Sanctuary to do up the PA. Hey, I'm sure Preston doesn't mind waiting a week or two longer while I chase down aluminium cans and TV dinner trays  from across the 'Wealth. I mean it's not like he's going anywhere.

 

So that's what I did. Repaired the armor, improved it to Model C, painted it red, and then went back to the Museum and kicked the crap out of that damn deathclaw. Then I zone out a bit while Preston and Co. jabbered about Mama Murphy's Sight and  so on, and then I looked up and they'd all gone, and it was just me and Fuck Donkey.

 

Sometimes, NPC behavior can be fascinating. I mean, I've put this slave though hell. Not that she didn't deserve it - when I found here she was living in a shack behind Sanctuary and getting ready to carve up a dead female settler for the barbecue, so I don't waste too much sympathy on her. All the same, you'd expect that she'd want to keep her distance as much as possible. Instead, she has this habit of standing in front of me. Close in front of me. And presenting herself.

 

 

Granted, with her hands cuffed like that, she can't really do anything but push her tits out for my inspection. But ... does she have to stand so close. It makes me imagine her nipples brushing across the cold metal of the armor chest plate, and how that must feel to her. Or how, sometimes, when she's in a doorway and I have to squeeze past, I think about that warm, pliable flesh squashed up against the unyielding steel of my armor. I tell you, it doesn't take much of that to derail my train of thought entirely.

 

And when she stands so close, does she have to make that kissy face with her lips? A fellow could get the idea that there was something that she wanted.

 

Even when I turn away, I'm still the focus of her attention.

 

 

 

 

All right, I know. By now, some of you are probably ready to measure me up for a rubber room and a course of anti-psychotics. Obviously, it's the handcuff AI that makes her stand where she does and I'm just projecting feelings onto the game.  Or as I prefer to think of it, deliberately romanticizing her behavior. Because, let's face it,  why not?

 

 

 

 

Now at this point, there's probably a certain amount of reader speculation as to the stature of the man inside that armor. Is he, perhaps built on a similarly imposing scale?

 

 

 

In the interests of (almost) Full Disclosure....

 

 

 

... I have to report that this is not the case. Still, we don't let it get in the way of our relationship. I mean there was only ever one way this was going to end, right?

 

 

 

So, err ... was it good for you too?

 

 

 

Epilogue:

 

I revisited the museum a little later in game to get some extra shots for this post, and was confronted with the inevitable consequence of out previous visit:

 

 

 

 

I guess I hadn't been building those stockings with morphs set. Oh well, nice to see her progressing...