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Good Boy	By : RedScythe2003 Category: +A through F > Fallout (Series) > Fallout (Series) Views: 3751 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout: New Vegas or any of the characters contained therein. No profit is being made as a result of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Good Boy
- 1
Antony did not think of himself as a romantic, but he knew the moment he saw her he had to have her. It was an instinct, one of the things that would make Caesar scowl and have him beaten if he let it show. It was a strong one too, more than the one that nearly sent him running into the flames back in Denver just to make the howling in his ears stop.

He held it back though, and set his hand between Lupa's shoulder blades, feeling the dog turn, looking to him for guidance. He had none, hoping she might offer some in return before the Mongrel followed his gaze toward the lone figure ascending the hill toward Caesar's tend. The guard there and his dog (one of his best) allowed her to pass without a second glance, clearing blind to the things Antony saw about her.

He thought about the woman as he went down to the training yard to put the young dogs through their paces. For training purposes he was allowed to keep a small cache of chems and energy cells... things meant for outsiders. He had one of the Slaves on hand hide them on the dummies in the yard, but only on a handful so he could test the noses on his dogs. If an animal failed the test too many times it would be culled, but Lupa's stock almost never went that way... Almost.

It was hours later as he was making his way toward the kennel, accompanied by a young Mongrel fast approaching his last failure when he saw the woman again. She knelt in the grit outside one of the cages, one hand gripping a bar to keep her balance while the other stroked the head of one of his dogs. The animal, which had only recently killed the salve girl that used to put the bait in his training dummies, had closed its vicious eyes and leaned its skull into her fingers like some kind of... pet.

Antony froze while the failure at his side took notice of the woman, cocking his head at an odd angle so one ear dropped slightly while the other remained stiffly vertical. She turned, looking over her shoulder at him, and maintained the smile she had on for the beast, though it waned slightly as the silence wore on. It was the quiet that unsettled him, all the dogs listening... all of them, all at once.

She shifted her hand from the dog's head and offered him a small wave but remained on her knees, almost... servile. "I heard the Dogs," she murmured, keeping her voice low though it carried to him. "I had to see them."

His tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He physically could not speak as he watched her, unsure how to speak to a woman that had that kind of power over animals. She had silenced him, just as she had silenced the dogs, leaving him looking almost... foolish in her presence. He clenched his fists at his sides, using the pain of his nails digging into his palms to try and find the words.

He need not have bothered because the next instant the Mongrel at his side dashed toward her, apparently finally deciding on a course of action. He watched in horror as the beast wagged its tail and pressed its head under the hand that had waved at him. The woman laughed and pet the animal affectionately, giving him a few seconds to collect himself and make his way over, leaning on the metal post supporting for the kennel's chain as the Praetorian sometimes did, his arms crossed over his stomach as he looked down at her.

"I am Antony, Master of the Hounds," he told her, trying to pitch his voice as she had. "Outsiders are a rare sight at he Fort."

She nodded, glancing at him as the over-exuberant Mongrel lay itself on her feet, most likely sealing its death warrant in the eyes of the Legion. "They're good beasts," she noted.

A compliment. She had... complimented him. That had not happened in a long time. He was at a loss once again over what to say as she ran her fingers through the dog's scruff, earning a happy pant from the animal. Seeing the way she handled the beasts was intoxicating, the way her hands moved, soothing them and the urge he had that morning came back, stronger. He almost whined at the thought of trying to resist it when she was so close... so close he could practically feel her.

He looked down at the dog on her boots, focusing on it entirely before he prepared to speak to her again. "Your name..." he managed. "What is it?"

"Ylva," she murmured, her focus on the dog, not on the way his hand hovered reluctantly toward her hair, just beyond his fingertips.

He just wanted to touch her... just a little bit... just once to sate the craving. He could be sustained by that... except she turned her head and glanced his way, her dark eyes instantly jumping to his hand, too close for comfort. Legion training kicked in when he lunged from his post, grabbing her hair and dragging her toward him while the dog jumped and dodged away from the struggle.

She tried to pull back, to get away, so he obliged, pushing her into the dirt, watching her land on her knees again, one hand in the sand while the other went to her scalp, trying to check the wound. She hissed, but he was too busy staring at the leather hugging her thighs and up, wishing he had shoved her over the dog instead of leaving her in such an... inspiring position. He growled as the hunger he had been so close to beating into submission roared to life again.

He had to do something or he was going to rip apart at the seams, so he forced himself off the post. Her head whipped around, focusing on him with partially veiled annoyance, her hand holding her hair out of her face. She was going to be scarred into his memory like that, something unbridled and wounded but not broken... not yet. He dropped onto his knees and grabbed her hips, causing her body to go rigid as she glared at him.

"Antony," she growled, making him tingle because she had bothered to recall his name. It validated the feeling that she was supposed to be his as he dragged himself toward her, putting his knees between hers on the ground. "What-"

"Don't speak," he snarled, knowing if anyone heard her he would have to share. She would be sullied, ruined by any that heard and the fear of it turned to anger as his grip on her hip tightened, making her hiss. "Don't fight."

She said nothing, turning her face away, the hand leaving her hair to sit on the sand as she processed his demands. Her posture was stiff as he ran one hand up the back of her thigh, feeling the muscles, taut beneath the sheath of treated flesh. She shuddered a little as he loomed over her from behind, both hands reaching around to grip her belt. He shut his eyes as one of her movements caused her to shift back, the outside of her thigh against the inside of his.

Despite Caesar he knew it was not right, because in his Tribe, the ruined wreck that once was the Hangdog Clan, men were dominant, but women still had to be won. They had to choose, but she would get none... could get none in the world of the Legion because she was less than he was. She was an object according to the dogma he had been taught and retaught when it failed to stick fully.

It was too late for division and second thoughts when his hands finished unbuckling the second belt around her waist. As he drew the leather apart and down he reached out with one of his hands, running it through her hair as he had wanted to previously. She turned away from the gesture, waking up the bitter anger years of being Hound Master had instilled in him. He heard her gasp as he used both hands to drag the leather down her thighs to her knees, noting marks where the tug had chafed the skin.

His eyes stayed locked on the wounds, pale though they were while his hands reached amid his strips of leather at his waist, shifting them out of the way as he found his own undergarment. A sigh escaped him as he savored a moment of liberation while around him the dogs began to stir, some whining while others merely moved inside their kennels. He heard it as an omen before he drew down her underwear, planting his knees on the garment, further pinning her in place.

Antony had one hand on her hip while the other took hold of his length, guiding it toward her, making him twitch as he felt the heat of her body. It had been too long since he had been so close to anyone for more than a few brief seconds and it took its toll on him. The Mongrels were whining as he pressed against her, pushing into the warmth all at once, unable to bear anything less after wanting for hours to do so.

His breath caught at how easily he slid into her, so warm and practically hugging every inch of him while his hand shifted to her other hip. It felt good... so good, buried deep in her... and safe. He sighed again, dragging his hips away from her thighs, feeling every tug of her against him before he pushed in again. His eyes shut as he realized she had been slick when he began, an unexpected boon that made him breathe more easily.

His pace was slow and irregular as he fought to keep from simply spilling within her, but she followed his instructions, silent and still until he found his pace. The dogs were louder in the background of his thoughts, some barking as he struggled to maintain his own silence. He heard her, breathing raggedly, a low whine that dug into him as he did his best to stay in control, walking the narrow line of a Legionary and a Tribal.

He quickened after the initial panic wore off, building speed slowly so he could push deeper into the core of her, feeding on his own motions, a wave growing as it fed on itself. When she pressed back to meet him on one thrust he knew he needed to finish quickly because it had made him groan in chorus with the barking canines. They had been listening before but he knew they were watching then, as he used her, keeping her down and in place.

He pulled back a second before he leaned over her, one hand in the dirt by her own while the other wrapped around her midsection to keep her in place. His thrusts became brief, pulses of energy as he nuzzled the back of her neck, glad she did not turn away that time. They were both panting as he felt her leaning into every brutal flash of skin on skin, leaving him wondering if it was reflex... or had she felt it too?

Most of the dogs were barking when he felt her suddenly tighten around him, her grip on the sand slipping as he pressed deeper. It was bliss briefly as he held her in place, making his final plunges, moaning against her neck and shoulder. A few twitches ran down the length of him before his own body stopped struggling, pouring into her with a few quick movements of his hips. He had not meant to, but he leaned on her heavily, causing her unbalanced weight to shift to one side.

They wound up laying in the dirt, sweating and trying to catch their breath, while around them the animals seemed to calm once more, slowly growing quiet. He felt her lean on her downed shoulder so her waist lifted slightly off his arm while she tugged her garments into place. The pteruges had fallen into place, effectively shielding his nudity somewhat so he spent the moment simply enjoying the moment. When her belts were buckled, she settled down, leaning back against him, wrapping her arm cautiously over his. The tension faded from her touch when she realized he was not going to tell her not to and he felt her thumb brush his upper arm, a hypnotic sensation.

The Mongrel that had failed the afternoon test skulked over, its head low before it lay down against her, pinning their arms together. Antony felt a moment of forbidden faith, silently thanking his spirit animal as he brushed his hand over the dog's neck. Then he shifted so he could brush the woman's hair from her face, causing her to turn her head, meeting his gaze without evident emotion.

He set his lips near her ear and exhaled slowly not yet trusting his voice. Then he murmured, "The dog..."

She waited, looking unsure as he remembered he had ordered her not to speak.

"Take it with you, Ylva," he muttered, knowing he had to let her go... but not yet. Not for at least another few seconds. Besides, he reasoned with himself, he was just going to have to kill it anyway, because it had not become what Caesar wanted of his dogs.
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Good Boy