highlander_ii

seasonofkink

One

"Caesar, really, this isn't necessary," the Courier said as he watched the world slowly turning around him. Or, rather, felt the world slowly spinning.

"But it is. I like watching you turn like a beast on a spit. Someday I may even add a fire beneath you for more 'spark'." Then he laughed, mostly to himself.

The Courier was less amused. This really hadn't been the plan at all. He knew there was something coming. That Caesar was a little - different. He knew Caesar's tastes leaned more toward the unconventional, but he wasn't prepared to be coiled in leather straps and ropes, then dangled from a rafter.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" the Courier asked as he came back around to facing the leader of the Legion.

Caesar nodded. He leaned back in his chair, comfortable in his decisions, sipping from a goblet, and waiting for his prize to slowly spin. He was enjoying this. Greatly.

"Sure, but is there a reason I need to be naked for this?" Wasn't this supposed to be a simple retrieval mission? With the possibility of having to kill that sniveling bastard, Benny? Not some fetish display for the Legion.

"I'm just deciding if you meet my standards, Courier. I may have other plans for you yet."

"That's encouraging," the Courier grumbled.

Caesar's grin was gleaming with wicked intentions as he Courier continued his slow revolutions, dangling in the air above the ground. This really didn't bode well for the timeliness of his mission at all.

Two

"Shut up and follow," Cass told the Courier, fingers curled in the front of his shirt as she tugged him along the corridor. "They frown on stuff that's too public, so we have to get creative."

Cass opened the door to a supply closet, one small but well-stocked compared to some of the others he'd seen. It was a tight fit for the two of them, between the shelves and robot parts.

"You're kidding, right?" the Courier grumbled, stepping over the canister of a vacuum.

Cass tipped her head and squinted her eyes at him. "Look, this was your idea, slick, so I'm certain you can figure something out. Now, let's go." She propped a food up on a shelf to unlace her boot and tug it off, repeating for the other one, then she shimmied out of her pants.

The Courier scanned the floor, looking for a good place to kneel. No dice. Clutter, supplies, trash, boxes of - whatever - were on every available surface. With a heavy sigh, the Courier fitted one foot in a bit of empty flooring and lowered himself almost to his other knee. Almost, since there was no clear space, even after shifting things around, to put it on the floor.

"You owe me for this," he said.

Cass snorted a laugh and propped one leg up on the shelf again. "No I don't. Now get to work. I want the fun you offered me."

The Courier smoothed his hands up Cass' legs and rubbed his fingers against her clit. He glanced up and saw her eyes were hooded, her head tipped back against the shelf behind her. She was definitely enjoying herself. That was good, because he was already getting a cramp in his left calf.

She swiped a hand, knocking the Courier's hat off his head, giving herself free reign over his hair. Her fingers threaded through the strands and she drew his head closer to her body. "Get on with it," she rumbled at him.

He would've made her wait, but his legs were announcing their discomfort. As he leaned in to finally taste her, he was trying to figure out why she'd chosen this cramped closet. He'd known weapons lockers with more room.

Shifting to settle better on his feet, he heard Cass chuckle and moan. What did she find so funny? That his right foot was asleep? That his left knee was screaming? He was twisted up like a pretzel just trying to maintain his balance.

And Cass was enjoying the hell out of it.

He slipped his fingers inside her. She yanked at his hair hard enough that he had to slap a hand against the wall to keep from tumbling over. He'd had to move so quickly that his arm ended up between her legs, causing her to straddle around him a bit.

Cass moaned again and he felt her climax. Suddenly, he realized she was getting off, not on his talents, but on the awkward entanglement of their limbs as they attempted this feat of sexual engagement. Aside from his angry joints and muscles, he couldn't be too upset. Everyone has their thing.

The courier braced a hand against a shelf to un-pretzel himself and push to his feet. He claimed Cass' mouth in a rough kiss. When he pulled away, he whispered, "Next time you want to be adventurous, let's find an abandoned barn or farmhouse or something."

Cass only grinned at him as she began putting her clothes back on.

Three

The Courier stepped slowly around Veronica, carefully checking the wrist and ankle restraints. They were secure without being too tight. Exactly as she wanted them.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked Veronica, fingers skimming the delicate skin on the inside of Veronica's arm.

Veronica nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

"Good. Now, wait here." The Courier left the room long enough to find a half-decent chair. She brought it back into the room where she had Veronica bound to a wooden frame. Pondering her captive for a moment, the Courier pursed her lips. She approached the frame and rearranged Veronica's limbs, putting her into a position that better exposed what the Courier wanted to see. And toy with.

She drew the chair into place and took a seat. Feather in hand, she began to tease it along the length of Veronica's legs, all the way to her hips. The teasing caused Veronica to writhe and wriggle in her bonds. Jerking and twisting as though there was any chance of escape.

It was delicious.

Four

Elijah can see them. No, not the ghost people (and he doesn't care about them anyway). The others. That Courier and the other minions. Those whom the Courier was sent to retrieve for him. He couldn't go out there himself. No, he needed someone else to get the sniveling, whining freaks.

And, now that the Courier has done that, Elijah can send her off on these missions so he can have his treasure. That they all have little choice but to comply is irrelevant. They must all do his bidding if they wish to survive.

Elijah watches the Courier and her first companion run off through the city. Assuming the ghost people and the toxic cloud don't kill them all, this shouldn't take long.

He monitors them through the collars as they complete the assignments. He can tell where they are and every time a new task is completed, there's a little change in the air. He can sense it. Like little waves of obedience floating over his body.

With each completed task, those waves get stronger. And stronger. Elijah can't wait for the gala opening. It will be the strongest yet. The best of them all. Until he gets his treasure. Once the treasure is discovered, he'll be able to nearly float there on the waves of obedience.

And nothing will be able to stop him!

Five

The Courier knelt, the hard packed dirt less than delicate on his knees. The heat of the fire warmed his naked skin in the cool of the Mojave desert night. He clasped his hands at his back and waited.

He knew she was there. He knew she was ready for him. This had been her idea, but he was on board with it. She'd thrown it in as a condition of giving him some additional lessons of the wasteland. He had some interest in the idea, so he'd agreed.

That's why he was kneeling, naked, beside the campfire. Ready. Waiting for her.

He feels her fingers brush over his hair and down the back of his neck. "So well-behaved. I like that," Sunny said. Her shadow flickered in the firelight, barely visible out of the corner of his eye. "Now, what am I going to do with you now that you're here?" she asked absently.

The Courier knew she wasn't expecting a response. It was difficult not to speak anyway. But, at the same time, freeing not to have to answer. Everywhere he went, people were always asking him questions, asking him to perform favors and tasks in exchange for tidbits of information he was looking for. Everyone. Every town. (And he hadn't even been to many yet.) To have the opportunity to sit and listen and not be expected to do anything at all was a nice reprieve.

Sure, he knew he would be given tasks to perform, but, in exchange for those, he would be given rewards. And, he was sure, none of these tasks would involve him being mauled by some over-sized, irradiated creature, or being shot at by some outlaw. He could settle here, by the fire, secure in the knowledge that whatever Sunny asked of him, he would be enthusiastic about carrying it out.

He wasn't wrong. Every task she gave him was something, if not easy, then simple to perform and had some benefit to the two of them. Stoking the fire, putting out the bedrolls, adjusting the lean-to, pouring the coffee, filtering the water, even rubbing Sunny's shoulders - all beneficial tasks that he actually enjoyed performing.

As a reward, he was permitted to stretch out on a bedroll with his head in Sunny's lap and she stroked her fingers through his hair. Later she teased him mercilessly - and he enjoyed that as well, despite being fully denied any release at all, before she told him to go to sleep.

In the morning, she used him for her own pleasure. This time she did grant him release. Then she made breakfast while he packed up camp and got dressed.

"We should do this again the next time I'm in town," he said to her.

"Sure thing. I love camping under the stars," Sunny replied with a wicked grin.