Finn
Copyright© 2025 by HAL
Chapter 3
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 3 - The world has become a bad place for the weak and a dangerous place for the strong. After the collapse, people were forming communities for self protection; but there was still a strong element of self-reliance needed. Finn was a hunter - perhaps killer for hire would be more accurate. Some were becoming successful and needed to remove competition, others wanted to punish those who wronged them. The rights and wrongs weren't Finn's problem.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Slavery Fiction
He’d only been double-crossed once.
Fenten Taberlin: the fact he took two names gave an instant indication of the kind of person he was. Proud and stupid; he didn’t realise that the reason for his success was fifty percent luck. Most people who survived did realise this, at least unconsciously, but Fenten Taberlin thought he had a flair for business. He had several outlets in different towns, and a small group of enforcers to keep all his ‘employees’ in place (most were paid food and were happy to be living). There was a rival who owned one shop in a town that Fenten Taberlin wanted an exclusive monopoly in. He could have offered to buy him out, he employed Finn instead. It was cheaper, but also just appealed to his sense of power to force someone out (by death) rather than having to negotiate. His mistake was to then tell his enforcers to go after Finn after he’d been paid and finish him and bring the fee back.
Finn recognised luck when it happened. It happened that day, he had never been double-crossed before, he hadn’t expected it. He just felt someone was following him – so perhaps it was skill as well; when the ugly brute tried to get a jump on him and get the fee (and maybe a reward from Fenten Taberlin) all by himself, yes, that was the luck part. The big man was surprised by how easily he died; he was used to picking on weaker people and being the ‘king pin’. He fell. The other three found him and chased down Finn to a corner of the town unfrequented by anybody but rubbish sorters. The rubbish sorters backed into spaces and watched the entertainment, no reason to help. Finn had a job keeping three fit young bullies at bay, but eventually one of them made a fatal mistake; and then there were two. It might have occurred to them that two of the original four had been dispatched by this murder machine; it might also have occurred to them that it was too late to run. So they fought on and another found he hadn’t stepped back far enough and his neck was sliced. That cut might not have killed him, but whilst he was contemplating if he was going to die, a second strike confirmed it. “Please, we just did as we were told. Fenten Taberlin, he said ‘kill you and get the money back’. It’s his fault, not mine.”
“Agreed, agreed.” said Finn as he thrusted his dagger in, again and again. “Sorry I’ve damaged his clothes. The other two will fetch some money though.” he said to the rubbish sorters. It was a good day for them. They worked as a sort of proto-guild, share and share alike. Maybe when you have nothing you are more willing to share. The rats, cats and dogs shared a feast of warm bloody flesh and the rubbish sorters had a good day. Even the bloodied, torn cloths sold to the cloth merchant – he could recycle anything. It is possible that some of the human flesh was dried or salted and kept for a rainy day.
Finn was not into esoteric, philosphical punishments; he didn’t kill Fenten Taberlin’s family and leave him to wander alone for the rest of his life. He did kill the ‘wife’, who Fenten Taberlin seemed to have some affection for, fucked the daughter – who Fenten Taberlin had been thinking of having himself; cut off the boy’s cock and balls and sewed them into Fenten Taberlin’s mouth and then after the rest of the family were dead – the daughter from a knife up her cunt and then across her throat, the boy from bleeding from his groin slowly; then he carefully skinned the merchants balls and cock as he attempted to scream but was gagged by his own son’s genitals ... Then he banged four stakes up the man’s rectum and left him writhing in agony – there was no way that anybody could extract them without killing him anyway. It was a notice to all his customers. ‘Don’t fuck with me’.
Each shop found itself independent, the natural leader slave in each took over but made sure to work with the others. It was a loose association, a kind of cooperative operation. Perhaps this was how civilisation would slowly rise from the ashes like a phoenix; time would tell.
Certainly his reputation was enhanced, he would do his job, but customers had better stick to the contract.
Finn stripped off completely. There was a tin bath that they had found in a lean to, filled with hot water and then cooled until it just steamed. Somyae decided to wash him, she offered and he nodded. Her mother looked concerned, knowing what this would lead to. “Take off your dress, you’ll get it wet.” He said. She took off the dress, revealing her breasts shyly, her lower body was still protected by the loin cloth. “Very fetching. Don’t be silly, you can’t wash me and cover your breasts.” He reached over and squeezed one. “Nice and firm.” He stood in the bath and she used a clean(ish) rag to wash down his body, removing the flecks of blood that had got under his clothing. ‘The assassination must have been very bloody’ she thought. It was. He smiled. It was nice to be washed by a pretty young girl. He’d been to washhouse brothels before for the experience, but they only existed in large towns. In the brothels, the girls were often purchased for their attractive faces and good figures (occasionally other attributes – like Karenni had the most amazing grip in her pelvis – were welcome) and they were often temporarily purchased for sex after the washing; they usually didn’t get any of the payment, though occasionally they got tips for ‘extras’.
“When is food ready?” He asked, wrapped in a woollen blanket.
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