Morgan: Part 8 (Reader Release) (Patreon)

As you would have seen in the last update the Plus readers and I have decided to put Morgan to bed to move onto monthly shorts instead.  So, like too many others, it will now go in the incomplete pile to MAYBE be returned to at another time.  (Don't hold your breath.)  But for those wishing to read it until where it got dropped, here is the final chapter of the sadly short-lived CYOA experiment, Morgan.

***

Keeping your senses sharp you walk along at Morgan’s side as the pair of you hike at a brisk pace to put some miles between you and the drifting pillar of smoke you’d left behind you.  For the moment at least your hunter was off your scent and the unexpected fap session had actually done a lot to help you collect your focus, settle your nerves, and lift your mood.  In short it had cleared your head as much as it emptied your balls.  Something you really needed after the horror of the hellhound.

This fresh perspective wasn’t merely physical though.  In fact it wasn’t even mostly physical.  With cold empty ruins all around you there was something happening between you and Morgan that had your insides feeling all full and warm.  You’d only known her a short time but already you could sense a change happening.  Despite her talk about the need for independent strength and endurance in this unforgiving world she seemed to welcome your burden onto her powerful shoulders whether that be in actions, decisions, or emotional support.  And the more you leaned on her the more she accepted the extra load.

The way she looked at you, checked on you, was quick to be at your elbow when you stumbled over a bit of rubble, or just how she would give you a bolstering pat to the arm when she saw the weight of your traumatized thoughts become too much to bear Morgan was there for you in ways that a prouder man would have rejected.  She’d clearly come to the conclusion that you were weak, someone who needed extra protection and guidance, yet you saw no ill judgment in her violet eyes.  Instead you saw calm acceptance of your limitations.  If anything your weakness seemed to lend her strength.  You’d never had a woman see you and treat you like this before.  Even your own mother, from a very early age, had been far more focused on fledging her little chick rather than keeping him safely under her wing.  It was all so…different.

Mixed into that Freudian goulash were all these new sexual horizons that she was opening up in you.  You’d often fantasized about dominant older women but Morgan took that fantasy far beyond even your wettest of wet dreams.  She wasn’t simply dominant, she was objectively superior.  Her confidence was well placed.  She was taller than you, stronger than you, more resilient than you, smarter than you and had magic powers to boot.  She even had a bigger dick than you!  Morgan wasn’t some dominatrix in dress up who was all bluff and nothing but a bitchy attitude to back it up.  Anytime she wanted she could fuck you up then fuck you down and there wasn’t one damn thing you could do about it.  And that simple fact made her SO much hotter.

Now sprinkle on top this latest thread to ‘ruin’ your stamina and make you into a premature ejaculator.  Who talked like that!?  Who even thought about something like that?  The answer: Morgan.  Most gals you figured would want the opposite.  To train you into a sexual Energizer bunny who could go all night long.  Not her.  Sure she offered that option to you as well but you could hear in her tone that she really wanted the opposite.  Why would she want that?  Why would she want you to humiliate yourself like that?  It was as if she was trying to steal your very manhood from you.  To make you sexually powerless in the traditional sense.  In other words, to spoil you for all other women.  You didn’t know why…but that idea was a very attractive one.  And her quip about ‘having to find other ways to get her pleasure out of you’ had your libido soaring.

In your fragile state of mind you had to be careful.  How easily you could lose yourself and become dependent on such a person as Morgan.

“Is that a smile I see Lucky?”  Morgan says as she peers over at you from the corner of her eye.

“Hm?  Oh.  Uh, yeah.  I guess it is.”

“Nothin like bustin a nut to brighten a man’s day.”

“I guess so.”  You laugh, a sound that this area had likely not heard in many a year.  Around you the dense remains of the city was petering out to spread out suburbs.  With most of the buildings flattened and mostly clear open areas between them there were far fewer places for the monsters to hide. You could sense Morgan allowing her guard to relax just a little and in turn it settled your fears as well.  Something still might get you but at least you’d see it coming.  With the temperature approaching a balmy few degrees above freezing the snow was receding as fast as the cloying sense of dread you’d been living with.   “I thought of a name.”

“Oh?”

“For the big guy.”  You nod toward Morgan’s shambling beast.  “Atlas.”

“Atlas?”

“Yeah.  Because he’s a big bastard who carries our whole world on his back.”  You say.  “What do you think?”

“I think that his name is now Atlas.”  She says with a roll of her eyes.  “You better start learning not to get too attached to things kid.  Usually they’re not around for long.”

Stepping in you slap the shaggy behemoth’s side.  “Well maybe that’s about to change.  Besides, there’s no harm in making the most of the time we’ve got.  Right?  What do ya say Atlas?”  It grunts and sways its head as if in response, though more likely he was annoyed at your pawing at him.  “See!  He agrees.”

She shakes her head at your attempt at humor, trying and mostly failing at hiding a grin.  “Ahh, to have your hope again.”

Getting her to even crack that much of a smile lifts your heart.  “I do still have hope.  Though I don’t know why.”  You hurry up beside her again and match your stride to hers.  “Hey Morgan?”

“Mmm?”

“About what you said back there.”

“I’ve said a lot of things.”

“Yeah.  Um, I mean…about training me.”

Taking her eyes off the landscape for the first time since you’d set off she fully turns her head to look at you.  “Yes?”

“About training to me to…uh…”

“Cum.”

“Yeah.”  You say, a blush warming your cheeks.  “To cum quickly.”

She raises a brow.  “That’s the part you heard?”

“Well, I was just…um…why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah.  Why…would you want that?”

“A near instant fuel source for my magic?  What’s not to like?  Could be very convenient to have a one minute milkman handy.”

“Oh.”

She turns her head to continue scanning around.  “Plus it’s sexy.”

“It is?”

“Yeah.  Seeing a man totally lose control with the scantest of effort?”  She clicks her tongue.  “Verrry sexy.”

“Really?”

“You think I’m lying?”

“No.  I don’t think you’re lying Morgan.”  You say.  After a few silent steps you say softly.  “If you really want to do that…I’d be interested in trying it…I guess.”

“You guess.”

“I’m interested.”  You say more firmly.  “I want you to ruin my stamina…Mistress.”

“Mmm.”  This smile she does not try to conceal.  “You better not be playing with me kid.  It’s been…a long time since I let anybody in.”  She taps her chest.  “If you’re fucking with me or just sucking up to the first warrior you found for protection, stop it now.  I’ll look after you either way.  But do not play with me.  You do not want a pissed off witch for an enemy.”

“I’m not playing.”  You say.  “I swear I’m not.”

“We shall see.”  She says as she pulls to stop at the crest of a low rise.  She gives a nod to draw your gaze up ahead.  “Our destination today.”

In the far distance across a muddy expanse of a ruined residential neighborhood you see a sooty black smudge on the landscape.  You squint against the light haze that blurred any feature further than a mile out to make out that the black smudge was actually a slowly drifting cloud of smoke.  Following the inky threads downward you see that is coming up from a freeway bridge that stood in tact.  There looked to be some sort of village or fortress built on top of it.

“A colony?”  You gasp.  “People!”

“No.”  Morgan says grimly.  “It’s not a colony.  It’s a nest.  Those aren’t people.  They’re vermin.  That’s a ganger patch Lucky.”

“Ganger?”

“The self consuming parasites of a dying race.”  She says.  “To those who would try to build us up, they tear down.  To those who try to gather, they plunder.  To those eking out peace, they bring strife.  To those who struggle to mount a unified defense against the darkness, they bring disorder.  To those fostering life, they bring death.  Humans killing humans!”  She spits.  “At least the magic devours us for sustenance.  Predator and prey.  That you can understand.  They doom us all simply to hold onto their filthy little spot in hell for a few more years.  Of all the monsters out here…they’re the worst.”  She takes a deep breath then prods Atlas into motion again.  “But right now we need their bridge.”

Pondering her words you walk maybe a hundred yards before asking.  “Can’t we go around?”

“No.”  She says.  “We can’t risk the river.  The bridge is the safest way across.”

“It doesn’t sound safe.”

“I didn’t say safe.  I said safest.”  She says.  “Normally I wouldn’t even try it but I’ve got a history here.”

“A history?  You know these people?”

She fixes you with a momentary stare before saying again.  “They’re not people Lucky.  And certainly not my people.  But yeah, I know them.”  She snorts.  “Used to be them.  Once upon a time.”

“You were a ganger?”

“I was young. I was stupid.  I thought the gangs were just another kind of colony.  I had this naive notion that where there were ‘people’ that there was hope.”  She says, her tone low and simmering.  “I was wrong.  I’m not proud of that time Ashe but it made me hard.  I suppose I owe ’em for that at least.”

You wanted to touch her, to stroke her shoulder and let her know that you understood, but you hold back.  “You shouldn’t feel ashamed of doing what you had to do to survive.”

“That’s what I used to think too.”  Morgan sighs.  “Listen.  We’ll spend one night then move on in the morning.  Assuming they let us in and assuming they let us move on that is.”  After a few more steps she adds.  “On the bright side this should buy us a bit more time with the hound.  If it tracks us here tonight we’ll have some protection.  They can’t kill it but they can at least drive it off for a short time.  If it doesn’t find us until tomorrow then it will take it some time to sort out your trail among so many others.”

“Okay.”

“Watch yourself.  You’ll be tempted to let your guard down, but don’t.  They can smell weakness as keenly as carrion eaters sense a fading life.”  She warns.  “The slavers won’t think twice about grabbing a little joyboy lookin guy like you wandering around on his own.  And with you lookin all fat and fresh from the Seep the cannies’ll be eying you up for tonight’s dinner the moment we get there too.”

“Joyboy?  Slavers!  Cannies?  As in…cannibals!?”

“You catch on quick.”

“Wait…on my own?”

“Stay close if you can but if old Dagon is still running this patch I might get called away.”  She says.  “I’ll find us a room first if I can.  If not…you’ll be on your own kid.”

“Called away?  To do what?”

“I’d rather you not know Lucky.”  She says.  “Witch shit.  The less said the better.”

“Alright.”

Once more you feel that bracing grip on your shoulder as Morgan gives you a squeeze.  “Just be smart.  You’ll be okay.”  She assures you.  “I am no friend of theirs any longer but they can use my skills.  And they also know that I’m not one to be trifled with.”

“You don’t want a pissed off witch for an enemy.”

She pats your back.  “The boy learns.”

Side by side you trek the intervening miles coming down into the fringe of your once great city.  What was once the green parks, quaint shops, and vast stretches of picture perfect single family homes was now nothing but an endless steaming bog stretching off to the right and left of the raised freeway you traveled along.  Even here you were ankle deep in frigid, sticky mud but out there the muck had to be ten feet deep as you could make out nothing but the top half of twisted streetlight poles and the second stories of the few stout brick or cement buildings that still stood.  Unlike the mud from your world though this gray-brown sludge was in constant motion and looked to flow and swirl like a slow moving extension of the river that bordered this area.  Occasionally you would spot the wake of something large moving just beneath the surface.  Morgan sees them too and does nothing to react to them so you do your best to put them out of your mind.

Straight ahead the long freeway merged with another before rising to the bridge that spanned the river.  As you got closer and it gradually came more clearly into view you could see that this entire side of the bridge was walled off with piled cargo containers, semi-trailers, and whatever else the inhabitants could scavenge.  As you got even closer you could just make out the specks of a couple of sentries posted along the top of the wall.  They were distant and you knew they weren’t friendly but it was still a comfort to see other humans again.  It looked as if there was a just a single gate to allow exit or entry, which was currently shut.  Painted in giant, jagged, crooked red letters across the wall were the letters: S, T, E, N, C, H.

“Stench?”

“That’s the name of this shit hole patch.”

You take in a deep breath but smell only the wet aroma of earth.  “Why do they call it that?”

“You’re about to find out.”

“Great.”

“No worries.  You get used to it.”

“Really?”

“Nope.”  She stops and turns to you, giving you a look up and down.  “They’ve seen my hair by now.  They’ll probably be waiting for me at the gate.  Show me your tough face.”

“Tough face?”

“Someone has just disrespected your Mama.  You’re stepping up on them to warn them to back off.  What am I seeing?”

You give her a hard scowl.

“Okay.  That’s not going to work.”  She says right away.  “Just…stay close.  If we do get separated go to Jinny’s Joint and stay there.  Slavers won’t get ya in Jinny’s.  Wait for me there.  Stay out of trouble and don’t give them an excuse to kick you out.  Drop my name if you need to.  It might help, might not though.  Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Stay active.  Do your best to look like you belong there.  Don’t stand out and don’t tell them you’re new.  Keep your gun handy.  If they’re not wearing colors they’re fair game, though watch out for any friends.  If they are wearing colors…you might as well turn it on yourself for how long you’ll last.  That gangers rule here.  You gotta eat their shit with a smile.”

“Oh Jesus.”

“Not literally…usually.  Calm down and listen.  I’ll give you some ammo to barter, you can also use your phone if you need to trade.  Just turn it on then off to show them that it works and only when you’re sure you got a deal.  Don’t give it away cheaply and trust your instincts.”

“Right.”

“You play pool or poker?”

“Uh…a bit.”

“You good?”

“I’m alright.”

“Then watch for hustlers.  Don’t bet what you can’t lose.”

“And hey.”  She slaps your chest.  “Have fun!  They might be vermin and one of the causes of the downfall of the human race, but they can actually be a good time in small doses.”

“A good time!”

“A good time is another way to trade.”  She smirks.  “Wouldn’t mind keeping you for myself but if you wanna go joyboy you’ll get all the attention that you can handle.  But it would keep you in Jinny’s for as long as you like.  And make us tidy profit while we’re here.  Just don’t go underpricing that sweet ass of yours.  Ha!”  She raises a finger, her violet eyes suddenly intense and glimmering.  “But NO WITCHES.  Understand.  Watch for the eyes.  You stay away from witches, no matter how nice they seem.”

“There’s got to be another way.”

“If there was a better way we’d be taking it.”  Hooking her hand behind your neck she pulls you in.  “Be brave.  If we’re smart we’ll be fine.”  Looking you eye to eye she tells you.  “I won’t abandon you here.  If someone takes you, I will find you.  Okay?”

“Okay.”  You mutter reluctantly.  The idea of getting separated from Morgan in this world, even among fellow humans, felt like leaving home naked.  “Uhhhh…Wha…What about Atlas?”

“What about him?”

“I could keep Atlas with me.”  You offer.  “I could wait for you near the gate.  Or a stable.  Nobody would bother me with him there.  Especially if they know he’s yours.”

“No.  I could be awhile.”

“I don’t mind waiting.”

“I think you misunderstand the nature of our partnership.”  She gives Atlas’ horn a pat then rubs the pocket she kept the beast’s jerky treats.  “It’s only magic keeping him from flaying the flesh from our bones.”  Your eyes widen as you look toward what you had assumed was just a strange looking but docile and trained beast of burden.  A creature you were actually beginning to warm to.  A creature you’d named.  It was a sobering reminder that one must be wary of what to trust here.  “No.”  She says.  “He comes with me.”  She pats your arm.  “Now come along Lucky.  Let’s get this over with.”