Rule Number One Is to Survive
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2013 by harry lime

Thriller Sex Story: Chapter 12 - All of a sudden, it is like the world has come to an end. The enemy has launched fearsome missiles at American cities. The ex-Marine decides it is time to take some evasive action and packs his family up for a safer place than the middle of Los Angeles. His wife is a bit reluctant to leave the proximity of the shopping mall and his children are less than happy at losing all of the electronic goodies they have come to depend upon. Still, he knows they are a lot luckier than almost everyone else.

Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   NonConsensual   Coercion   Slavery   Heterosexual   Post Apocalypse   MaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Light Bond   Humiliation   Violence  

Mike, Wesley and Jezebel progressed very slowly down through North Las Vegas. There was only sporadic traffic, mostly delivery trucks with supplies for the local businesses. Most of the gas stations were still shut down with rusting pumps giving mute evidence to the lack of serviceable transportation. They saw some electric powered mini-buses moving north and south along the main corridor. The only people they encountered were almost like zombies with a vacant 1,000 yard stare about them. Mike discovered later that most of the "pacified" civilians had to take their "happy" pills every day at the control centers that carefully monitored each and every resident.

The only indication they had that everything was not all sugar and spice was when an armored truck came around a corner and turned a water hose on some huddled transients gathered around burning barrel in a deserted lot next to a motel that had definitely seen better days. The dirty looking group scattered like a bunch of chickens being chased by a fox. It was funny and yet Mike wondered if the motley group was just some survivors down on their luck.

Anyone that happened to see them as they moved south tended to look away as if afraid to even admit there were some people not yet under government control.

The old downtown area was a big disappointment. They didn't see any of the old glitter and sparkle that set Vegas apart from the ordinary world. It didn't look like any of the old casinos were still operating a gambling business. The hotels were still being used but it looked more like apartment rooms for residents rather than for tourists looking for some adventure. Everyone looked like they were wearing standard issue prison garb rather than trying to make a fashion statement. Mike noticed right away that there were no females that could be considered "nubile" and even the more mature females were lacking in sexual attraction.

There could be no doubt that the entire scene was programmed to reflect the fact that the new Vegas was nothing like the original city of sin. They had no idea what had happened to the looters but judging from the "shoot on sight" orders in effect at the time they headed for the back country, he didn't imagine there were very many left, if any at all.

The city held nothing of interest for them. They moved out rapidly to the north and arrived back at the area where they first encountered the young boys just as darkness was starting to fall. Mike saw the two large barracks style building that supposedly housed the 50 boys and girls of the new order. It didn't look like a typical school because of the extensive barbed wire and the floodlights that kept the perimeter well-lit at night.

They hunkered down near a railroad track that was so rusted it gave away the fact that it had not been in use for many years. It could be a cost issue or it could be the logistics of doing things by rail was curtailed by the population drain and the loss of the lifeblood industry of gambling and tourism.

The boys and the girls were exercising separately in the central compound being led by an attractive older woman in her mid-forties who was in excellent condition and kept up a blazing pace for the youngsters. He was surprised to see her gather them up into a close-packed group and hose them down with garden hoses like they were flowers in need of irrigation. It was probably a lot safer out in the open in full view of everyone so no funny business was going on. They ran back into their separate barracks and the Sector Chief secured the doors for the night and went back to her own little house at the other end of the parade ground. Earlier that morning, the boys had told him that they were not allowed to have any physical contact with others until they had graduated the school and had reached the age of 18. They were forbidden to have any printed materials or pictures of naked flesh and were to always dress appropriately at all times. It sure was a big change from pre-day zero school rules and the permissive attitudes of both teachers and parents.

The three of them managed to get right up to the front door of the sector chief's residence without being seen by either of the two perimeter guards just coming on duty. Jezebel rapped on the door and in a high-pitched feminine voice cried out that she needed help right away.

The door swung open and the already pajama clad supervisor with a silly net on her hair stuck her head out with an irritated look on her attractive face. Jezebel pushed her back inside and all three of them swiftly entered the small building and checked for any other warm bodies or dangerous weapons.

The woman was struggling in Jezebel's strong arms strengthened by living her entire life by competing against three rude brothers. She quickly settled down when the fiery redhead deposited her shaking body on the white shag carpet.

Angela Carter was just on the verge of losing her nubile status but still managed to look good and stayed fit and trim supervising the education of 50 youngsters. She never had children of her own despite having been married twice already. Her entire family had been wiped out when a North Korean nuclear missile landed on the outskirts of Seattle with devastating consequences. The most populated area in the State of Washington was obliterated in a matter of seconds. But it was the rolling extension of the contents of the "dirty" bomb that made the entire area unusable for the next 99 years.

The re-education specialist was trained in a special military school designed to create productive seedlings of the orphaned children of the victims of the holocaust a decade prior. She furnished government officials proof of her loyalty by spreading her legs without question whenever her female goodies were needed to corrupt some reluctant quisling into "right" thinking. She had also proven valuable in the infiltration of Looter pockets of resistance by liberal distribution of her kinky talents.

Now, Angela had been "put out to pasture" with the assignment of seeding fringe areas with loyal government clones with total loyalty to the party line. She was not happy in her assignment because she felt her services were still more valuable in other more physical ways.

 
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