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Mine to Keep
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The world that was once known is gone. In its place is a society where the rich rule, and the female population are auctioned off to the highest bidder.
I am more primitive than most, living off the grid and surviving on my own. I am a loner, a man who has needs and desires, and I am about to do something about it.
I may not be wealthy enough to purchase a female for myself, but I’ll have one as mine regardless.
I lost the only two people I loved, my parent who hid me away from a barbaric society that wanted nothing more than to sell my body.
Being alone was consuming, and I didn’t know how much more I could take.
Then I found myself injured, on the verge of unconsciousness, and in the middle of nowhere. When I wake I’m in a strange cabin, and the man who is just feet from me looks at me as if he owns me.
He’s big, strong and muscular, and seems more animal than human.
Warning: This story is fast, hot, and leaves nothing to the imagination. It features an over-the-top, caveman alpha male who wants his heroine as only his, and nothing will stop him from making that happen. Oh, did I mention the hero and heroine are both virgins *wink*. Lock your bedroom door, because this is one story you’ll want to read alone.
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The sun beat down on me, beads of sweat and dirt covering me from the manual labor I’d been doing all day. I brought the ax down on the log, splintering it in two.
The ax was one of the only tools that I had to work with. With everything from food and water to clothing and weapons being rationed and accounted for, I’d had to make do with things I constructed myself, or things my parents had hoarded from back in the day. I’d also made tools and weapons, and although they were almost barbaric in nature, they did the job. That’s all I could ask for in this day and age.
I picked up half of the log and set it on the chopping block. I brought the ax down on the piece, splintering that one in two as well. I did this over and over again, cutting firewood before finally picking up the pieces and stacking them on the side of the house.
I’d been born in this cabin, raised in it and away from the corrupt, fucked-up outside world. I’d only been down the mountain a few times to get supplies with my father, but that had been enough.
The fall of the economy had happened when my mother and father were children. Once adolescents, and my mother needing to escape the female roundup for the auctions, she met my father and they escaped together.
They needed to get away from the strict rules that the government enforced, especially given the fact that women were a commodity now, pawns to be sold off, given to the highest bidder … the wealthy.
Sex slaves, vessels for reproduction, maids … these were the things women in this world were made to do.
It made me sick to think about the depraved and vile acts that were perpetrated on them. But that was our world now, crazy and mad, dictating what others could do, how they felt.
And it only got worse as the years went by. It would only get worse as time moved on.
I continued the task at hand, chopping the wood, stacking it up. This was my life, lonely and monotonous, my days filled with doing tasks that ensured I survived, that once I found my woman she would be comfortable and happy here.
And yes, that was my end goal … to find my woman.
I didn’t know who she would be, didn’t know where she was, but I knew one thing for certain: I needed a woman, a wife, the future mother of my children in my life. I needed that as much as I needed to breathe, as much as I needed to be strong and protect her.
And I would, until the day I took my last breath. She’d come to realize that she was my life.
I thought about the time I spent in the cabin with my family, how we’d tried to survive.
There had been other people who came to us over the years, looking for shelter, a warm fire to lie in front of, or even some broth to drink. We never turned them away. But in the end that had been my parents’ downfall.
It had been five years since I lost my parents to a drifter who took their generosity as something more. My father had been killed trying to protect my mother from the bastard and in turn I’d killed the motherfucker with my bare hands.
But at thirty years old I was tired of being alone. I was ready to finally venture out and find a female of my own. I’d never known the intimate touch of a woman. But I had no doubts I could make her feel good, could make her see that she was meant to be with me.
And even though I wanted that because I lived off the grid, and in the eyes of the government had no financial standing or privilege to own a woman, I had to find one for myself.
I grabbed a rag and wiped the sweat from my face, down my neck, and along my chest. I’d gotten rid of my tattered, once-white T-shirt hours ago when I’d started working.
This was my home, would be my home until the day I died.
Fuck anyone who thought that they could keep me from what I desired, from what they thought I wasn’t worthy of having. A woman wasn’t a piece of property, wasn’t something to be used and abused.
Once I found my wife she’d be my equal. She’d make this cabin a home, a true home with children and love and laughter.
And anyone who thought they could take that from me would know the kind of wrath I could inflict upon them. I might be a man by all accounts, but being away from society and civilization made me more barbaric, more animalistic then what would be considered normal.