“Damned Gunners,” cursed Heather as they passed a half dozen of the mercenaries on the street. The high-end mercenaries were mostly in military fatigues with metal combat armor over the top. Two new recruits were dressed in jeans, flannel shirts and combat boots, probably waiting to prove themselves before they received the standard issue.

 

Nora thought they were arrogant, not that they really deserved to be. While, from what she could tell, they were good enough combat troops, they were in no way elite. What they had was good armor and particularly good military weapons. No inaccurate pipe weapons for them. And frankly they creeped her out.

 

The women and men were for the most part cookie cutter clones. There were enough differences that she thought cloning was not an explanation. She thought they were the result of a breeding program, keeping the genes within the pool, as it were, while avoiding the effects of inbreeding. That they also recruited from outside their ranks was a given, since they seemed to want to field an army that could eventually take the Commonwealth. They had also been the final straw for the Minutemen, the only other military power in the region, destroying that faction almost entirely. That made them Nora’s enemy. A powerful enemy that she couldn’t afford to confront at the moment. But once she had the power at her fingertips they were going down.

 

She thought that she might have entertained a Gunner or two the night before in the Third Rail. She really couldn’t tell, and really didn’t care. They were caps in the bank. That was all, and it was her job to satisfy them. She would be incredibly happy to take their lives when the opportunity presented itself. In fact, if she caught small groups of them on their own, she could get a head start on retribution.

 

“Gather round people,” called out a voice from a balcony. Nora looked up to see Hancock, a pretty though severe redhead standing behind him. People started to gather in the small square below. Drifters, shopkeepers, the armed neighborhood watch. Even Triggermen, the ghoul criminal faction that affected the clothing and weapons of old-time prewar gangsters. Even KLEO was there, running with her assaultron gait to stand at the edge of the crowd.

 

“What town does the Institute not want to fuck with?” called out the mayor.

 

“Goodneighbor,” echoed the crowd.

 

“Who is not afraid of the Institute?”

 

“Goodneighbor.”

 

“And who leads Goodneighbor?”

 

“Hancock. Hancock.”

 

It was a rah-rah speech, and the people fed into it. Harmless, as far as Nora was concerned, it helped to allay the fears of the citizens. It was obvious that the people here loved Hancock, their mayor. She still wasn’t sure if the Institute was responsible for all the ills of the Commonwealth, but there were enough people who did believe it that it had assumed a life of its own. Something else to look into.

 

“So, where to today, Partner,” said Heather, up and chipper from all the sex she had experienced the night before.

 

“That place,” said Nora, pointing down to the end of the street.

 

“The Memory Den? Are you sure you want them to mess with your mind?”

 

Nora was sure. It would give her a chance to see both her husband and her baby again. The only memories she had of either of them was the murder of her husband and the kidnapping of her baby. Sure, she had other memories, lots of them. But none had the vibrancy of those, and she was hoping to find something that would replace the horror show in her mind at night.

 

“Can I help you?” said the pretty older woman who lounged on the old-fashioned parlor couch.

 

“I understand that you can help people relive memories.”

 

“We aren’t accepting new customers now,” said the woman with a frown. “And we don’t know if you can handle those memories we do find.”

 

“I can take it,” said Nora in a near pleading tone. “Trust me. I lost my husband and child recently, and I desperately want to see them again.”

 

“You poor dear,” said the woman, on her feet and putting her hands on Nora’s shoulders. “Of course we can let you see your loved ones again. Just take a seat in one of the memory loungers.”

 

Nora took a look at the four capsules scattered about the room. They were like comfortable chairs built into a container; the outer door raised at the moment. Two were in use, people reliving memories, probably of happy events of better times. What she was hoping for. She slid into a chair, feeling more than a little nervous as the outer hatch closed, sealing her off.

 

“We have a woman in lounger three, Amari,” came the voice of the woman who had greeted her. “She lost her husband and child, and wants a memory that connects her to them again.”

 

Give me something good, she thought. Maybe something having to do with making love to Nate, nursing her baby, anything to take the place of the awful visions she was seeing each night. “I’ve got something,” said the other woman, the one identified as Amari. “Here we go.”

 

Suddenly Nora was rerunning her vision, stuck in the vault, watching as the strangers walked up to Nate’s capsule. Not again, she thought. Dear god, give me something else. Unfortunately, she had no control of the vision, the memory. The machine had selected it, and she was merely along for the ride. Being the most salient of her memories, she was doomed to relive the vision she saw every night. The one she had relived a million times while she was in cryo, Her worst nightmare. The man leveled the large revolver and sent a bullet into Nate, her one true love’s, head. His head rocked back, and his eyes stared into nothingness, while the woman in the biohazard suit grabbed Sean. The ugly face of the murderer looked into her capsule, saying something about her being the spare.

 

“Something’s wrong,” said the woman named Amari. “I’m pulling her out.”

 

The vision ended, the hatch of the capsule rose out of the way, and a crying Nora tried to pull air into her breathless lungs.

 

“I’m so sorry,” said the woman, Irma. “We didn’t want you to remember that again.”

 

Nora laughed, a hysterical expression of emotion. “I’ve relived that damned memory a million times” she hissed, her hands clutching, wishing she could crush Irma’s throat in her strong grip. Heather and Barb were by her side, each holding an arm, ready to restrain their friend before she did anything foolish. “Relived it a million times while I was in cryo. Then every night in my dreams. And you couldn’t have pulled up something more pleasant.”

 

“I am so sorry,” said Irma again. “Here. I know it’s not much, but let us give you a hundred caps.”

 

“A hundred caps. You owe me so much more for making me go through that again.”

 

“Could you please come with me?” said the middle age brunette woman who must have been Amari. “I would like to talk with you.”

 

Nora told the woman her story, from her life before the war, to the Vault, the murder of her husband, the kidnapping of her baby. Then reliving the memory and waking up. A short bit on what she had done since leaving the vault.

 

“Amazing,” said the scientist. “I don’t have any experience with cryo, but I can think of how a memory could replay through a frozen brain, the neurons acting as superconductors.”

 

“Is there any way you can purge that particular memory from my mind. Please.”

 

“Nothing I can think of,” said the scientist. “And I recommend that you don’t use the lounger again. You’re likely to just experience the same memory again and again.”

 

“Thanks,” said Nora with a sad smile, tears still falling from her eyes. “I would sooner try to kiss a death claw than go through that thing again.”

 

“I’m guessing that it didn’t go well,” said Heather, running a hand over Nora’s back.

 

“Not so much. For all I know the dreams are going to be worse.”

 

“We’ll be there for you,” said Barb. “You won’t have to go through this alone.”

 

Yeah, but the dreams will still be in my head, she thought, grateful for the thought, but realizing that the problem was in her.

 

“I need a drink,” she told her two friends. She knew she had to be careful there as well. Alcohol helped, but the risk of addiction was always there. She couldn’t afford to become one of those people who drank to live and did nothing else. Doing things was the way to keep her sanity, such as it was. And the pleasure of sex, the rush and stimulation, did a better job, and was an addiction she could live with.

 

“Welcome, ladies,” said Charlie, wiping out a glass. “I assume you are not here to work?”

 

“Not at the moment,” said Nora, feeling a smile stretch her face at the memory, soon subsumed under the more horrific memories she had just relived. “Maybe tonight.”

 

“The customers you serviced could speak of nothing else, Guv,” said the Handy. “You made quite an impression, and I sold a lot more drinks.”

 

“Happy to have helped out,” said Nora.

 

“I notice that you are dressed for war today,” said the Handy. “I have another job that might be just up your alley.”

 

*     *     *

 

How in the hell did I let myself get talked into this? thought Nora as the lock clicked under her pick. Heather and Barb were lookouts, ready to let her know if the watch was coming near. Not that it would do any good if they were seen. She wasn’t about to kill any members of Hancock’s watch, though mention of his name might drive them away. Charlie had told her that the mayor had wanted these people in the ground when she had insisted on knowing who her employer was. Well, she hadn’t promised to put the triggermen in the ground, merely to leave their bodies laying to rot on the warehouse floors.

 

It really wasn’t enough money for all the risk, when she could have made five times the four hundred caps by merely letting men cum in her. It was hard to believe that in the world she had come from many people thought that was a sin, dooming a soul to the same hell that would be the destination of murderers. According to that logic, since she had already doomed herself to perdition by fucking men for money, she might as well kill some as well.

 

All three had their night vision gear engaged, the inside of the very dark warehouse as bright as day to their sight. She could see the red heat image of one of the inhabitants through a hole in the wall. Her suppressed assault rifle was set on full auto. She could have it set for three round burst, a more efficient use of her ammo. However, she wanted to have the control to be able to fire longer bursts and sweeps if necessary. Two voices were coming from the room, and she whispered instructions into the radio, getting whispered acknowledgements in return.

 

As soon as she had the men in her sights she fired, the almost silent weapon taking them down, the only noise a slight cry from one of the slain.

 

“What the hell was that?” asked a voice from upstairs. Footsteps sounded on the steps, a quartet of men coming down and into the fire of Barb and Heather. More yelling from upstairs, and Nora decided to wait to see if they would come down as well. Those people were a little brighter than the others, and waited for their attackers to come to them. Nora spotted a hole in the ceiling that led to another hole. Positioning herself, she rocketed upward on her jetpack, spraying the room with rounds as she spotted the mass of red figures.

 

“Well, that takes care of one,” she told her friends. “I’m still not sure about this one, but it will get us in good with Hancock.” The problem was she didn’t know if Hancock’s intensions were good. She might be murdering people for simply being his rivals in crime. But she was committed now, and didn’t think she could back out.

 

The other two warehouses went the way of the first. The people were well armed and totally unarmored, and knew nothing about combat tactics. She left behind a pile of bodies at all three locations, and was battling her conscience as well as the recurrent memories the sojourn at the Memory Den had brought forth.

 

After taking her pay from Charlie, she sat at the bar and proceeded to get drunk. Drink after drink of the strongest he had, while fending off the advances of men who wanted a replay of the night before. Her last semi-coherent recollection was yelling that she was on the house, then following a bunch of men into a side room. More drinks were shoved into her hands which she guzzled down, then the clothes came off and the gangbang was on.

 

Nora had very few clear thoughts of what happened from there. She wasn’t one to get drunk and fuck. She wanted to feel the sensations, and alcohol numbed them. Still, it felt good to have dicks thrusting inside her. She remembered a few orgasms, but they were vague, on the edge of awareness. To feel them Cumming, to know that someone was getting some enjoyment out of it. At one point she was on her hands and knees, a dick thrusting in and out of her pussy as she sucked on another cock. She took a short break and another drink, and then she blacked out. Nora must have been semi-conscious, because she was still a willing partner to the gangbang, but everything was blurred.

 

Her metabolism should have burned off the alcohol quickly. But it was extraordinarily strong rotgut that made Brobov’s seem like fine Kentucky Bourbon. And she was guzzling it faster than her body could burn it off, her subconscious desire to feel nothing taking hold. She kept crying out for more whenever her mouth wasn’t full. Whether for more liquor of more cock she didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, since she was getting plenty of both. She didn’t know how much cum she had swallowed, but later figured it must have been a quart. With as much or more going into and flowing out of her cunt. In a slutty life this night was the sluttiest of all, and she didn’t care, as long as she didn’t see the images of her husband gunned down and her child jerked out of his dead arms.

 

“Help me get her into the shower,” said Barb, on one side of Nora as they helped her up the steps of the condo.

 

“I feel sick,” mumbled Nora.

 

“We need to get her to throw up,” said Heather. “The sooner she gets that crap out of her system the sooner she’ll be able to sleep.”

 

Nora had no problem with that, and as soon as she was in position everything came up. What she had eaten through the day, along with the rancid taste of alcohol. Even the taste of all of the semen she had swallowed while being gangbanged. Then they held her up while hot water poured over her, her two friends scrubbing down her hair and skin, washing the sperm out so she would be clean when she woke up.

 

*     *     *

 

“God, but I wished I had died,” she told her friends as she sipped on the beverage that was the poor substitute for coffee they had in this time.

 

“You got so drunk you couldn’t help it,” said Barb, running a hand down Nora’s forearm.

 

“It’s not that I fucked all those men,” said Nora, shaking her head, then moaning as the hangover induced headache made her regret that move. “It’s that I was in no shape to enjoy it. In no shape to give them my best. And I gave it away for free. What the hell was I thinking?”

 

“Well, if you do anymore nights in the Third Rail,” said a smiling Heather, “you’ll have them lining up to get into you for whatever you want to charge.”

 

Nora smiled at that, then frowned. The man they had come to recruit was supposed to be back in town tonight, and what with making sure he was what they wanted on their team, she doubted she would have time to whore this night. And the next day they would be off.

 

“Thank you both for taking care of me last night,” she told the two she considered to be true friends.

 

“We should charge you extra for all the shampooing we had to do,” said Barb. “I’ve never seen someone with so much sperm on their hair and body.”

 

“I suggested that we shave your head,” said Heather, recoiling in mock horror at the look she got from Nora.

 

Nora had been growing her hair out since waking from the vault, and it was now to her shoulders. The longer hair made her feel more feminine, something she felt necessary to her self-image, since she was such a hardened killer. It was a bad combination already, the willingness to kill quickly and the feelings of guilt it brought. But if she didn’t do it, a lot of bad people would still be wandering the Wasteland preying on the weak.

 

“What time is it?”

 

Just before four in the afternoon,” said Heather, looking at the watch that Nora had gifted her, both of them, with.

 

“I guess we should go see our boy about six,” said Nora, thinking of going to the Rail a little earlier so she could fill her empty stomach with food.

 

“I think you won’t have any complaints about his marksmanship,” said Heather, who knew the man the best of all of them.

 

, thought Nora. But a single man traveling with three oversexed women needed to be a good shot with more than a rifle.

 

*     *     *

 

“Maccready’s in the back room, ladies,” said Charlie. “You might want to give him a moment. He has some bad customers back there.”

 

“And that’s the guy we’re looking for, Heather?”

 

“Sure is,” said the redhead, a concerned look on her face. “Best damned long-range shooter in the Commonwealth. But I don’t like that last part.”

 

“Then let’s see who these bad customers are,” said Nora, heading down the hall to the back room.

 

Two men stood outside the door, dressed in combat armor, the skull symbol of the gunners on their chest pieces. “Whoa, ladies,” said the one on the right, the smaller of the two men, holding out a hand. “They’re busy back there. But if you ladies want some company later?”

 

“I would sooner fuck a Mirelurk than one of your dickless wonders,” said Nora, glaring at the man.

 

“Why you fucking bitch. I ought to…”

 

The man moved forward, reaching a hand out to grasp Nora’s Nanosuit. To Nora it looked as if the man were moving in slow motion. She grasped the hand in both of hers, then twisted, driving the man with a cry of pain to his knees. The other moved, bringing a fist back and telegraphing the punch the entire way. Nora stepped out of its path and launched a hook into his ribs, doubling him over.

 

“Watch them,” she told her friends. “If they try to come in, hurt them.”

 

“Can we shoot them?” asked Barb, a cold smile on her face.

 

“Hancock frowns on unsanctioned killings,” said Nora, shaking her head. “But I don’t think he cares if you break some arms and legs.”

 

The sound of men screaming at each other came through the door. Nora turned the handle and flung the wooden door open, walking into the room as if she owned the place.

 

“Who the hell are you?” asked one of the men. “We’re conducting business here, so get the fuck out.”

 

“I don’t know who you are,” said the youngest man, his boyish good looks sending a thrill through Nora’s pussy. “If you’re looking for a friend, or trying to preach the word of Atom, you can turn back around and walk out. If you’re looking for a hired gun, then don’t go away.”

 

“What did we tell you about this bullshit, Maccready,” growled one of the men. “You don’t try to pull business away from us. When you quit the Gunners, you went out of business.”

 

“Well, Barnes, I didn’t agree to that fucking deal. So why don’t you take your girlfriend and leave.”

 

“We don’t have to take this bullshit,” said the other, larger man.

 

“Just shut it Winlock,” said Maccready. “You don’t own the Commonwealth.”

 

“Not yet, but we’re working on it. So how about we give you a good beating and leave. And the little lady can contract our services.”

 

“I’d rather hire molerats than scum like the people you represent.”

 

“Do you know who we are?” asked Barnes. “Do you know who you’re fucking with?”

 

“Yeah. Bullshit and Witless. So why don’t you children just walk out of here while you can.”

 

“Why you fucking bitch,” growled Winlock, balling up his fists and walking toward Nora.

 

Nora launched a hard side kick with her right leg into the solar plexus of the man, doubling him over. She spun on her plant foot and brought a hook kick into the face of Barnes. Barnes stumbled back, his hand going to his holstered gun.

 

“Uh uh,’ said Nora, her own pistol blurring out of her holster to point at the face of Barnes. “I’m on good terms with Hancock, so I don’t want to fire my weapon. But move that gun any further from that holster and the wall behind you will be wearing your brains. What little of them there are.”

 

Nora would have liked nothing better than to splatter both of their brains on that wall. These men seemed to be high in the Gunner organization. An organization that had all but destroyed the Minutemen. Chased the Longs, Preston, Mama Murphy and Sturgis away from their homes, almost causing their deaths at the hands of Raiders. She had already killed a score or more of their ranks in her short time in the Commonwealth, and swore that when the Minutemen had enough strength she would go after them in force, until not a Gunner lived.

 

“You don’t know who you’re fucking with,” growled Barnes. “If I see you out in the Commonwealth you’re dead.”

 

“Not if I see you first,” said Nora with a cold smile.

 

The two men stormed out, flinging curses at the men who were supposed to watch the door. Barb and Heather came into the room as soon as they left, while a wide-eyed Maccready stared.

 

“I don’t know who you are, Lady. But I like your style. But that was a dangerous stunt to pull.”

 

“I eat danger for breakfast,” said Nora with a laugh. “It tastes like chicken.”

 

Maccready laughed; a little boy laugh that went with his boyish good looks. Nora had been thinking about getting him into bed the moment she laid eyes on him, but business first.

 

“So you’re looking for a gun. I charge two hundred and fifty caps a week, non-negotiable.”

 

“Everything is negotiable,” said Nora with a smile, looking into the beautiful blue eyes of the man. “How about two hundred a week? When you’ve proven yourself you’ll get a raise. And I heard that you were the best sniper around. We already got up close and personal covered, but there are some opponents who need someone to reach out and touch them at a distance.”

 

“And just what could three pretty ladies need with a sniper? And can I ask, how much do your partners make?”

 

“Nora gives us spending money for incidentals,” said Barb, getting a nod from Heather. “And she lets us scavenge things of interest. The rest goes to the cause.”

 

“Oh, great. Just when I thought you legit, you had to say the C word and ruin it. So, just what is this cause?”

 

“We’re in the business of rescuing settlements and building them up so they don’t have to worry about people like the Gunners, or Raiders, or even Supermutants.”

 

“I think I’ve heard of you,” said the young man, perking up, his eyes showing interest. “And rumor has it that you are incredibly good at what you do.” Maccready smiled, an expression that lit his face. “At everything you do?”

 

“We need to see you in action, Maccready,” said Nora, returning the smile. “So how about a couple of auditions?”

 

“A couple of them,” said the surprised man. “I can see you taking me out into the city to see how I shoot. So, what’s the other skill I have to possess.”

 

“Well,” said Nora, her smile stretching as she started to unzip her nanosuit. “You will be traveling with three highly sexed women. And we all like to have a daily orgasm.” She slid the suit off of her shoulders and dropped it to the ground, then reached behind to undo the clasp of her bra.  “So, I need to see if you can handle that.” She glanced over at her two friends, sliding out of their Kerrington armor. “Think you can handle that, big man. If you can’t talk, just nod, then sit back on that couch.”

 

From the expression on the sniper’s face he couldn’t believe any of it. Nora stood in front of him naked, her right hand reaching down to play with her clit. Heather and Barb soon joined her, and the Sole Survivor could barely hold in her laugher as the man’s eyes, about to pop out of his head, couldn’t stay on either of them for more than a few seconds.

 

“First we need to check out your equipment,” said Nora, kneeling in front of the man, pushing his legs apart, then undoing his zipper and reaching in to grasp a cock that was well on the way to a full erection. “We need to see how you respond, so there are no surprises on the road.”

 

Nora pulled the dick from the man’s pants. Like most cocks she had seen in this time, it was uncut. Sometimes she missed the circumcised head of a penis, the elegant beauty of it, but the men here seemed to enjoy her manipulation of their equipment just as much as men had in her time.

 

“Very nice,” she said, estimating that it was just about seven inches and still growing. It would be the type of dick that would hit all the right places without causing undo discomfort. She kissed the head, listening to Macready suck in a breath. She licked up the shaft, then down, moving her tongue across his balls. He seemed clean enough, not surprising for someone in one of the city settlements, though not always the case. She thought he tasted good, not a requirement but always welcome. Taking the head in her mouth she bobbed up and down on it, feeling it firm into a full erection. Now she estimated eight inches, the perfect length as far as she was concerned. Maccready grunted his pleasure each time her head went down, hissing in air on the upstroke.

 

“Hey,” said Heather in mock anger. “Quit hogging the dick.”

 

“Then you all get down here and help me out. That okay with you, Maccready?”

 

The man said nothing, so Nora assumed it was just fine. She and Barb licked up and down the shaft, often kissing each other on the lips as opportunity presented. Heather, meanwhile, had gotten into a position underneath where she could work on his balls, licking, sucking and kissing. Several times they pulled Maccready back from the edge. The women switched positions, each taking turns on the balls.

 

*     *     *

 

Robert Maccready stared with an open mouth at the three women who had gone down on him as if his permission wasn’t even needed. Not that he wouldn’t have given it. They were gorgeous, all three of them. They looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, one set ice blue, another green, the third a warm brown. They seemed to be really enjoying their work, something missing from the whores he usually engaged to take care of his needs. He knew that these were not whores, though there were rumors of one or more of them selling themselves for the cause. These were girls who really enjoyed sex, giving and receiving. Any one of them, with their enthusiasm, could put any of the Goodneighbor whores to shame in performing oral.

 

Nora, the woman in charge, took him deep, all the way into her throat, then massaged his head. She then moved to his balls while the redhead moved up and took his cockhead into her sweet mouth. She alternated with the green eyed raven hair, Barb, then they settled  into kissing the cock between them, licking and sucking at intervals. Maccready could feel his balls starting to rise and a fierce tingling swept through his sack and testicles, aided by the questing tongue of the leader. He tried to hold back, to impress them with his staying power, but it was just too much. With a series of short grunts the man shot his semen out in seven spurts, into the mouths of Heather and Barb, who then shared a portion with Nora.

 

*    *     *

 

Semen was an acquired taste. Nora loved it, and her two partners at least liked it. Maccready had the taste of a man who ate a varied diet, marking him as healthy. He sat back with a sigh; eyes closed.

 

“How long till you can get it back up?” asked Nora, putting her hand on his cock, then pulling it off as he proved to be too sensitive after orgasm.

 

“I haven’t had sex in over a week before today. So give me five minutes, maybe ten, and I’ll be ready. Why? What do you have in mind now?”

 

“Well, your response was acceptable. But now we need to see how you fuck. How much pleasure we can get from you?”

 

“All of you?”

 

“Well, you don’t have to Cum in all of us if you don’t think you’re up to it. I would prefer it if you give all of us an orgasm. But that’s not expected either. After we train you we’ll expect more. But we all want to sample you. So,” said Nora, noting that the man’s dick was on the rise. “You ready?”

 

Nora took Maccready on last. He gave both her partners orgasms, but they were primed and ready. Barb came fast, while Heather took a little longer, and Maccready had to stop and pull out at one point so he wouldn’t spurt. Then it was Nora’s turn, and she guided the man to her entrance, grabbed his buttocks, and pulled him in.

 

“My God,” gasped Maccready, his eyes widening. “Your ladies were great. As good as anyone I’ve ever had. But this pussy is unbelievable. How do you stay so tight, Boss Lady? And so damned wet and hot.”

 

“Tell you about it later,” she said, closing her eyes and enjoying the dick sliding in and out of her pussy. “Now, let me enjoy the fuck.”

 

She had to admit that Maccready was really nothing special in the fucking department. His technique was very pedestrian. But he was earnest and really into the act. She urged him on, adjusting his motions with her hands, until he was hitting her clit on every thrust. She felt her pleasure rising, until the orgasm she had been anticipating burst over her. Her pussy clenched around the man’s dick and his second orgasm of the night spurted inside her.

 

Afterwards Maccready lay in the bed smoking a cigarette, a smile on his face.

 

“Enjoy it?” asked Nora.

 

“Hell yes. Unexpectedly, three gorgeous ladies come into my office and take advantage of me. All of you were good, and you were fucking unbelievable, Boss Lady. Excuse me, I meant fantastic.”

 

“Well, Macready, you need work. You were good enough to get us off, but we demand more than just a pedestrian orgasm. The good news is we think we can train you to service our needs well.”

 

“Train me?”

 

“Women always train their lovers, male or female,” said Nora after a short laugh. “Don’t feel insulted. As I said, you have potential. And you passed your audition. So, you still want to hit the road with us?”

 

Nora could tell that the man was intensely curious, but that never guaranteed anything. Fortunately, Maccready smiled and nodded. “Hell yeah. You give me something to kill, and sex like that afterwards, and I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth.”

 

*     *     *

 

“So, when do I get a suit of power armor of my own, Boss Lady?” asked Maccready over the radio.

 

“You want this one?” asked Nora, grimacing at the grinding gear sound the X-01 frame was making with each step. She had done all she could to repair the frame, but it was beyond her capabilities. At least with what she had at Goodneighbor. At Home Plate she would have the resources, or be able to call them up if needed. But she had to get it there.

 

“No thanks. I’d rather have one that doesn’t tell everyone for blocks in every direction that I’m coming.”

 

You did a pretty good job of letting everyone know you were Cumming last night, thought Nora with a smile. She had enjpyed the sex herself, though still recovering from the vicious hangover brought on by several nights before. But Heather and Barb had availed themselves of their new sex toy once again, over and over, and Maccready had come through for them.

 

I should have just left this wreck at the condo, she thought as the left arm ground through a movement. It wasn’t like she didn’t have others, and she was planning on using an assault suit for The Castle. Well, they were over a mile away from Goodneighbor, and she wasn’t about to head back and listen to the I told you so’s of her people. Eventually she wanted her entire team trained up on power armor and jet packs. They might not use them on every operation, but having the ability to deploy would aid her planning considerably.

 

“Raiders up ahead, on the rooftops to the left,” said Maccready.

 

The young man had quickly taken to the tech she had given him. He sported a set of hacked visor and short-range radio. In fact, he had commented on how her weapons and other tech was better than what the Gunners offered. And they prided themselves on having the very best.

 

“Their women seem to all be fit and beautiful,” had mentioned Heather. “I guess you were getting all the sex you could handle, huh.”

 

“Nope,” had said the frowning young man. “The Core Gunners, that’s the ones who all seemed to come from the same secret program, will only mate with each other. Something about genetic purity. Which left the one third Wastelander recruits to make due with each other.”

 

The Gunners were definitely an enigma, and one that Nora would have to get to the bottom of eventually. But now was not the time.

 

A bullet hit the hardtop and ricocheted away, a clear miss of over foot. Maccready deployed behind a dumpster, avoiding the lure of cars that might explode if hit. Rifle to shoulder he fired, the loud report sounding over the street. Up on the rooftop a Raider was suddenly without a head, the body falling over the side of the building.

Well, he’s as advertised, thought Nora. And he had a pretty good weapon, though she could think of improvements. Maybe a state of the art sniper rifle from Arturo, then some mods she could add herself, including noise suppression. He was carrying a 10mm pistol, but she was thinking a small SMG for close in work. And some ballistic weave for the ratty looking trench coat and army cap he insisted on wearing. They were his lucky clothes, but his boss believed in the luck of good armor over anything else.

 

Maccready took out two more at long range before the rest came swarming down the outer stairs of the building. Raiders were like ill-disciplined children, the murderous variety. They had no patience, and would give up any tactical advantages they had to close with their enemy right then and there. Nora landed a grenade on the street just below the terminus of the stairs, and just before the Raiders had reached ground. The round detonated and sent three or four of them tumbling through the air, their limp corpses to land heavily on the street. Heather and Barb took down five more on the steps, and the only members of the gang to reach the street were dead as could be.

 

“What the hell is that over there?” asked Nora, looking at the red glowing lump in the center of the pound on her vision equipment.

 

“You don’t want to go in there, Boss Lady,” said Maccready in a serious voice. “That’s Swan’s Pond. People go in there, but no one comes back out.”

 

To Nora it looked all the world like some kind of Mirelurk, though the shopping cart strapped across that broad form didn’t look right. She was curious, but not so much that she thought finding out what it was while deployed in a suit of malfunctioning recon PA a good idea. They passed by the commons a mile or so later, then up to the large structure of the Boston Public Library. People she had asked had told her that the best way in was through the subway station, so that was what Nora decided. She ejected from her PA, took the fusion core, and locked it down.

 

“Should be safe enough out here,” she said, looking over the suit with its three sections of highly degraded armor. It weighed almost a ton, and without motive power it was going no place without a crane. Some scavers might be able to get the armor sections off, if they had the tools. She thought it fine for the hour or so they would be gone.

 

The upper subway station was empty save for the telltale meat bags of the supermutants. The smell was horrible, with the rotting meat and the excrement of the big mutants who shit where they lived. “Be very careful,” she told her people in a whisper. “I want to see them first, so we can take them out without a problem.”

 

They ran into their first mutants at the bottom of the stairs leading down. Nora was about five meters in front of the rest, rifle ready as she moved silently forward. So far so good.

 

“What’s that,” called out a sharper than average mutant, its red figure coming into sight, followed closely by one of the monstrous hounds. With a quick aim she sent a stream of suppressed fire into the pair, dropping them to the ground. The dying scream of the mutant alerted others, and a large red figure came out of a side passage, running at her like a football back.

“Suicider,” she called out, trying to get a shot at the bomb it was carrying. Her people did as they were taught, moving back up the stairs while laying down fire. Nora stood her ground, hoping she could get the deadly mutant before he got too close. Her bursts hit, body and arm, but not the bomb, until finally one did.

 

The suicider went up in a blast of fury, killing the two nearest supermutants, who were still in the process of trying to backpedal out of the way. The heat washed over Nora, burning her exposed skin. The blast drove her back, while pieces of ceiling and wall fell around her. Her last conscious thought was of her companions, separated from her by the collapsing stair well, if they hadn’t been buried by it. And then she was out.

 

Her first returning conscious thought, her mind still clouded with confusion, was of being lifted in the air while hands fumbled at her armor. The strap on armor was already off, only the nano-armor still in place, and big clumsy hands were trying to rip it, to no avail.

 

“It too tough, Brother,” said the rough whiney voice she recognized as belonging to a Supermutant.

 

“Then cut.”

 

Nora felt the tugging at the front of her armor, and opened her eyes to see one of the brutes trying to push a knife through the fabric, cursing as it refused to penetrate.

Nora kept silent. Right now she was in an awfully bad place. If they dropped her and left her alone for a short time she would heal up, and then she might have a chance to strike. Or sneak away.

 

“There opening in front. See if you can get it open.”

 

Nora peeked out of half open eyes, to see that two Supermutants were close around her, with several more in the background. All had their kilts down, baseball bat thick cocks standing at attention.

 

Oh God. They’re going to rape me. Her pheromones were working against her in this case, arousing the simple-minded creatures until all they could think of was sex. She really didn’t want that, and started to struggle, her hands and feet lashing out. A couple of the creatures cried out, but she might as well have been hitting a brick wall for all the real damage it was doing them.

 

“Help us, Brothers,” said the one holding Nora’s legs and having a hard time of it.

 

“What, you can’t hold one human female?”

 

“She strong. Stronger than believe. So help.”

 

Another mutant grabbed a leg, while the first switched over to holding a single. Another grabbed her arms and held them out, while the fourth fumbled at the suit opening. It slid open, and the mutant quickly pulled it off.

 

“I get these,” said the mutant who dropped her nano-armor to the floor. With a quick jerk he ripped her bra away, then did the same to her panties.

 

“I go first,” said another mutant, wearing the better armor of a leader.

 

“But we capture her.”

 

“I go first,” repeated the leader, his huge cock swaying from side to side as he approached.

 

Nora screamed. She didn’t want that thing inside her. It would probably tear her vagina to pieces. She might bleed to death. Or worse yet, her body would keep healing her while they kept feeding her those monster cocks, over and over again until they were all satisfied. Since she didn’t know anything about the sexual prowess of Supermutants, she had no idea how long that would take.

 

The leader put the head of his cock against her entrance and thrust forward. The entire thing pushed into her, until he was hitting the end of her cervix. A sharp agonizing pain let her know that real damage had been done to her sex organs. The monster didn’t care. He was getting a rare treat, and he pumped it in and out, the pain telling Nora that more damage was done on each thrust. It really didn’t take long, and the mutant’s face scrunched up in pleasure as he pumped a number of thick spurts into her.

 

It burned, that semen, and Nora realized the sperm was radioactive. If she had been a normal human she would have been doubly doomed. Bleeding to death from internal injuries while succumbing to radiation poisoning. The very male mutant withdrew, a flood of blood and sperm following his cock out, and another huge cock moved into place. Without a thought for the victim the mutant thrust in.

 

The second wasn’t as bad as the first, since most of the ripping had already been done. Still, some more of her tunnel sleeve parted, and the mutant frantically pushed in and pulled out, until he deposited another load of burning sperm in her. And then the next stepped up and repeated the process. And the next.

 

“She strong. Any other human female be dead by this time. Maybe we send her to brothers to the south and let them put her in vat to become supermutant.”

 

That thought horrified Nora. She had read about what happened with the Forced Evolutionary Virus on research terminals. She would grow into a huge green creature, devoid of the intelligence for higher thought. She would no longer be human, and would no longer be a female. She liked being human, and very much liked being female. Of course, once she was a Supermutant she would care not at all for what she had liked and desired as a human.

 

She continued to fight, but the three masses of muscle holding her gave not an inch. Another cock went in, more radioactive sperm flooded her pussy. She was starting to feel ill from the radiation, and though her body was clearing it faster than any other human could, with the sperm still inside her it was a losing battle. She was thinking that she might die of radiation poisoning, or maybe ghoulify. Neither of those were desirable. While she had nothing against the civilized ghouls, she also had no desire to become one of the hideous creatures.

 

Another mutant stepped up and pushed his dick in. He had gotten maybe three strokes in when blood splattered out from a new hole in his forehead and he fell back. The same thing happened with one of those holding a leg, while the other on that duty had an arm turn to ash, to fall screaming to the floor. Suddenly there were two dogs tearing into mutants, grabbing ahold of arms and ripping.

 

“Get off,” yelled one of the mutants, before a burst of rounds tore through his skull. The other mutants scrambled to get weapons. Under the expert attentions of Heather and Barb they hadn’t a chance, while more of the mutants further away fell at each report of Maccready’s high caliber rifle. In less than a minute all of the mutants were dead, along with a couple of their massive hounds.

 

Nora lay on the floor where she had been dropped, vomiting her stomach contents, then rolling back and forth as her pussy ached from the physical damage and burned from the sperm.

 

“Oh God, Nora.”

 

“Let me see to her, Barb. You and Maccready keep watch.”

 

“They tore me up inside,” said Nora, gasping.

 

“They did,” said Heather, reaching into her bag and pulling out a jar of salve and two bottles of her special tea.

 

“Their sperm is burning inside me, Heather. It’s radioactive, and if I don’t get rid of it the damned stuff will continue to poison me.”

 

“Then we need to clear that up right away.” Heather pulled some clean rags from her bag and soaked them in tea, then went to work sponging Nora’s vagina and uterus out. She pulled forth one rag, bloody and dripping with semen, and started with the next. “Drink both those teas. They’ll clean you up.”

 

Heather pulled another tea from her bag as she continued to manipulate the rag with her other hand. She stopped for a moment to pull open the tea and drain it, then went back to work. “Their damned jism was poisoning me too.”

 

“They were talking about giving me FEV and making me a Supermutant.”

 

“Well, that’s not going to happen now. As far as I know they either have to dip you or inject you. Raping you won’t change you, although I’ve never heard of anyone surviving the rape of a supermutant. Much less a gang rape.”

 

“Lucky me,” said Nora, the burning sensation fading. “I think you’ve got most of it out.”

 

“Then I’ll do one more cleaning, then apply the salve. The bleeding has stopped, and the vaginal sleeve is already healing. You’re going to be hungry and thirsty as hell in a moment, so if you can handle it swallow a couple of MREs, then drink your fill of water.”

 

“Thank you, Heather. Thank you too, Barb. And you too, Maccready.”

 

“Hey, if you hadn’t been leading like you did we would both be dead,” said Barb. “So thank you. How long before she recovers, Heather?”

 

“A couple of hours. Amazing. It would be a month for an ordinary woman.”

 

Soon Nora was sitting against a wall, her nano-armor back on, eating a second MRE. Her stomach had calmed, and her body was free of rad producing substances. The very thought of the Supermutants raping her made her stomach queasy, but that would pass. She was not looking forward to the nightmares of this event, but the alternative was just too horrible to contemplate.

 

“How are you feeling?” asked Heather, taking a close look at her patient.

 

“Stronger. Give me another fifteen minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

 

“How did you get to be such a superwoman, Boss?” asked Maccready, bringing over the strap-on Forteleza armor.

 

“I’ll tell your tonight.” It was about time the man got to know everything about her. After all, she either trusted him or she didn’t. And if she didn’t, she didn’t need to have him around.

 

“You still want to do this today?” asked Heather. “You don’t want to come back another day.”

 

“And pass up all that knowledge up above us,” said Nora with a lopsided smile. “And fail to make Daisy good with the Greater Boston Library System. Hell no. We’re here, so let’s do this. And I think it will help take my mind of this horrible situation.”

 

*     *     *

 

At first Nora didn’t think the door was going to let them in. A recorded voice kept saying that the Library was closed, and even when she talked to the computer controlling security she got nowhere. On a chance she plugged the data cable from her Pip-boy into the port. The powerful computer in the small device parsed through the subroutines, and the door clicked open.

 

“So when do we get one of those?” asked Maccready.

 

“It won’t work the same for you,” she said in a low voice. “You aren’t wired for it.”

 

“What the hell are you, Boss? Some kind of Cyborg?”

 

Nora hadn’t really thought about it, but in some ways that term fit her. She had an implant in her brain, put there by the Navy to help her link into the computer of the aircraft she flew. And it linked with her Pip-boy, giving it abilities that were missing to anyone who couldn’t direct link. She still didn’t think of herself as a cyborg, since her other exceptional abilities were biological and not electronic or mechanical.

 

“Everyone stay close and don’t wander off,” she ordered as they went through the door. The first thing she spotted was a tripwire laid across the stairs going up. And several clusters of fragmentation grenades hanging from the ceiling. She disarmed the trip wire, then straightened up to look around. To see numerous protectrons, some standing, others clanking along. There were several turrets at the top of the stairs, and the place looked ready for a siege. The bodies of a half dozen supermutants lay in the aspects of violent death across the stairs and landings.

 

“Well damn,” said Barb. “Looks like we were misinformed. The damned brutes never made it into the library.”

 

“Nope. It looks like someone set this place up as a death trap,” said Nora, walking up the stairs slowly, ready to fire or run as needed. The defenses seemed to be ignoring them, and she was thinking they could distinguish between normal humans and mutants, but she hated to stake their lives on that assumption.

 

Nora found a book return machine and deposited the book that Daisy had given her. The machine gave her some coins in return, something she could spend on a prize when she had accumulated enough of them. The library had power, a working computer system, defenses, and looked like it would have made a good refuge. Still, people had died here, as evidenced by the numerous skeletons.

 

“What now?” asked Barb.

 

“Now we look around and take anything of interest,” said Nora, picking up a telephone and watching the protectrons to gauge their interest. Nothing. “Electronics, interesting looking references, everything.”

 

After a half an hour of looting Nora had accumulated quite a bit, and Maccready was giving her a curious look.

 

“How in the hell are you planning to pack all of this out?”

 

“I’ll show you.” Nora called forth her cargo bots, all of which had been faithfully following her around in stealth, then Wilson, who had followed them into the building.

 

“These will carry my shit,” she said with a smile.

 

“You’re just full of surprises,” said the sniper, looking at her intently. “Maybe there’s something you can help me with.”

 

“Wait until we take the Castle and we’ll talk,” said Nora.

 

“Intruder alert,” called out the computer over the intercom system, as the turrets started into their firing sequences. “This is now a free fire zone.” The protectrons started to fire.

 

“Everyone cover until we can find out what’s going on,” ordered Nora.

 

The roar of supermutant voices, along with the whirring rapid fire sounds of miniguns let them know what was going on. The Supermutants were here, in force.

 

“Maccready, find a place to snipe at any who are out there. Gain some altitude. Barb, cover that entrance. Heather, on me.”

 

Nora was gratified that everyone, even their new guy, followed her instructions instantly and to the letter. She took up a firing position overlooking the entrance and aimed in on one of the mutants carrying a minigun. That worthy was tearing apart one protectron after another with his stream of low caliber rounds. A quick burst and the supermutant dropped his heavy weapon, to join it a moment later on the floor. Another hurried over to make a grab for the weapon, but a loud report and the spurt of blood from his head and he was falling over on top of the weapon. Heather blasted another mini-gun wielder with her laser, and just like that the heavy weapons of the invaders were out of action.

 

Two more waves of mutants made the attempt to take the library. If not for the humans they would have overrun the defenses. If not for those defenses the humans would have been sore pressed to hold out. Between them they taught the mutants a new appreciation for the Dewey Decimal System.

 

Nora set her ready Handy to stripping mutant weapons and downed robot parts, then picked her way into the secure area of the library, where the staff had made their last stand two centuries before. She read their final logs, including an appeal to protect the knowledge of this place. Much of that knowledge was on a couple of hundred holo-tapes that went into Wilson, along with some large reference books dealing with technology. She sent Wilson out the front door so it could navigate to Home Plate and the QESS there. In a half an hour it would be back, and she would have another load for it. There was a lot of information here that could aid her rebuilding of the Minutemen and the settlements, and she meant to get all of it she could, if not on this trip, then on a future visit.

 

“What the hell is that?” asked Maccready, looking over the Bobblehead.

 

“Let me have that,” said Nora excitedly, pulling the small statue out of his hands. Immediately it touched her skin and the small statue’s internal chip linked with her implant through the Pip-boy, and a wealth of information flowed into her mind and body.

 

“Something else you’ll tell me about tonight?”

 

“Yep. Now let’s get to Diamond City before it gets dark.”