Chapter 1 - Power Trip

Zeke liked guns. Big guns...really big guns...I don’t think you understand so let me clarify. The mentally unstable waster really liked big guns. Hell, he even had an imaginary friend named “Gun”. No, wait, that was actually one of his guns: Gun, Little Gun, Zappy Gun, and Stabby Gun. Well Stabby Gun was actually a bayonetted rifle which had long since run out of ammunition, serving as more of a spear of sorts, but his partner didn’t dare tell him that. Aforementioned partner Mari on the other hand didn’t like guns, never did really, and lugging around her savage traveling partner’s didn’t quite improve her feelings towards them. 

 
“Companion” wasn’t the best word, as he had merely saved her from a band of roaming slavers some weeks back only to 'enslave' her himself; “You’re pretty! Come with me or explode!”, were his exact words if she recalled correctly. It wasn’t all bad really as he didn’t beat her or do anything else that was bandit-like; all in all Zeke wasn’t a “bad” guy. He just had a bad tendency to, you know, kill things. Everything. 
 
The duo had been traversing the Great Desert for quite some time, and luckily for them had held up some poor sod a day’s march back and secured a good deal of water from him; at the unlucky travelers detriment. Their relationship wasn’t necessarily unhealthy, as little things were healthy in the wastelands, but there was a mutual symbiosis between them. Zeke, a fan of murder, killed everyone. Mari, not a fan of being murdered, carried his guns. “Maid Mari!”, the raider called back as he climbed up a sandy dune; she hated being called that. “Yes”, the young woman unenthusiastically responded, “Sir”. 
 
Did I forget to mention? Many years ago the nearly illiterate savage found the tattered scraps of some perverted doujin while looting an ancient corpse and ever since then had quested to find his very own maid, as that appeared to be the theme of the smutty comic. For some unknown reason Zeke found the idea quite “cute”. It took a long time but eventually he found a dusty ensemble of a French maid’s uniform in an abandoned costume shop. Check. Months later he found Mari. Check. Life was good. 
 
Life was not good for his “maid”, it just was ok. While it could’ve been worse having Zeke for a companion wasn’t ideal, as he reveled in danger and a bloody good fight; more things that she seemed to despise. Shooting was just so loud and troublesome that it made her anxious. As he reached the top of the dune he spoke again, “Zappy Gun!” It was more than a “Zappy Gun”, A DL-890 Railgun to be precise, still functional and fitted with an 8x scope. He had unwittingly stumbled upon a powerful weapon of centuries past and preferred to use it as a pair of binoculars rather than a hi-tech killing device; shooting from afar was for cowards in his opinion. 
 
She used her almost disproportionately thick legs to climb the wispy dune towards him; a heavy duty rucksack full of their equipment tightly bound to her back. Mari was a slightly above average looking young woman: tanned skin, long silky black hair and a slim build. Nothing too stunning about that, but by God did she have a lovely pair of legs; defined and muscular from weeks straight of carrying around her “protector’s” equipment. “Here”, she snappily handed him the bulky pulse rifle. As he peered through the dusty scope from atop the sandy hill he hummed a little tune, “Meat, meat, meat...I love to eat...Beat, meat, feet, sheet...sheet, ghost...ghost sheet...” Mari hated his insipid songs as they usually ran into tangents, “Ghost, roast, toast...fire...fire...” 
 
She sighed indifferently and batted her eyelids, “You want me to make a fire here?” He relaxed the rifle and shook his head, “No, a Fire. People. Guns.” 
 
~
 
“Hey, so if we live in a big ol’ desert, where does this water come from?”, A raven masked bandit quizzically asked as he pondered the contents of his canteen, huddling around a small campfire. Another masked bandit across from him was baffled by the question, “What?” 
 
“Like, it doesn’t rain right?”, he was sincerely confused, “Where does this stuff come from exactly?” 
 
His companion’s misunderstanding of the question turned into annoyance, “Water? It comes from a fucking well ya’ dolt. At a town, or at a...natural oasis. Yeah, either of those.” 
 
“I ain’t seen that before in my life.”, the inquisitive bandit refused his friend’s response as an acceptable answer. “You haven’t been to a town? The hell?”, annoyance turned into frustration.
 
“No sir! Desert boy through and through!” 
 
“There are towns in the desert! There’s a town not far from here! What the hell is wrong with you? We went to a dusty little town last week!” Was his friend truly this stupid? How had he failed to notice for this long? The bandit nonchalantly waved a small pistol as he spoke.
 
“No, you and Stan went to the town! I stayed at the camp! I refuse to believe that water just comes up from some shacks and some sand. Why can’t we get it here if that's the case?” 
 
“Dammit Kenny, you— shit, you’re right about me and Stan. Still! Water, Kenny? It’s Water! You’ve never even seen rain! How are you gonna tell me water don’t come from a town but know that it used to come from the sky? Kinda shit is that?”
 
Lost in the argument the two wasteland thieves failed to notice the armed madman approaching from the darkness. “Listen Eric, all I’m sayin’ is—“, the foolish bandit stopped speaking as he felt something cold and hard press against the back of his head. “You. Guns. Down.” No one could ever say that Zeke wasn’t straight to the point. Eric dropped his gun into the sand, fearful expression hidden by a beaked mask; he didn’t wish to test the assailant’s skills. 
 
Kenny on the other hand, obviously stubborn, refused to drop his own small pistol. “Hey bud, do you know who you’re fuckin’ wit’?” He slightly turned his head to the side and tried to catch a glimpse of his assailant’s face. Zeke simply racked a shell into “Gun” as a reponse, which was actually a rusty Mossberg 500 shotgun.
 
“Kee-ny! Kee-ny! Put the gun down!”, the bandit named Eric spoke in a hushed yell, trying not to aggravate the armed savage. Kenny wasn’t a good listener. 
 
“This guy ain’t got the gumption Eric, bet he ain’t even gonna—“ He would’ve finished his sentence had half of his head not been turned into fresh marmalade; the blast echoed throughout the desert. 
 
“You killed Kenny!”, Having witnessed his friend die the enraged bandit sprung for his gun, “You motherfu—.” Poor Eric was blown backwards into the sand behind him, quickly put down by the trigger happy Zeke; that was the end of it. 
 
Mari watched the entire exchange and was almost saddened; she’d found their antics humorous. Oh well. She stood from her hiding place, gathered their belongings, and began to close her distance to the gunslinging psycho. Suddenly she saw another shadowy figure, creeping through the darkness towards Zeke. She would’ve called out to warn him but didn’t wish to reveal her own position; she was an awful shot. Fuck. What could she do?
 
The raider looked upon his work in admiration. Two free guns and a little bit more water. Good. Maid Mari might’ve been thirsty. He had a feeling that she was warming up to him and the killer wanted to make her happy; she was so soft. In truth, despite the callous killing that he partook in Zeke was a romantic of sorts. Words had never been his strong suit, and sometimes compliments such as “You look lovely today.” came out as “You carry guns nice, I love guns!”; he was hopeless.   
 
As he looted the fallen corpses he heard a gun cock behind him, “Oh you fucked up now.”, a high-pitched male voice spoke from behind; it was Stan. The beak masked marauder was wielding a rusty pipe-rifle, simple yet somewhat efficient, “You killed my friends you sun’of’a’bitch! Now speak up! So I can blast you as you speak like you did Kee-ny!” This bandit was a twitchy little bastard and Zeke didn’t know what he could do. The thought of not being able to kill him made him very upset.
 
“Do it shit brain or I’ll—AAAGH!”, he let out a loud scream as something extremely sharp ripped into his back; Maid Mari shakily stood behind him, bewildered by her own actions. The stuck bandit yelled in pain as the long and rusted bayonet impaled his back, slinking to the ground as he began to writhe in agony. Zeke spun around in confusion and took in the scene, “Woah! That’s blood!”; it was an odd statement given that he’d seen a lot of blood before. His usually timid helper looked upon her deed in awe, having never harmed another creature, let alone killed a man; it felt, great! 
 
She slowly approached the yelping bandit and reached out with shaky hands, quickly gripping the wooden rifle sticking out of him. Looking upon the bloodied bayonet and the carnage that she’d inflicted Mari began to feel a warm feeling she had never felt before. The young woman long detested guns but this? This she could get behind. Her brown eyes widened as she observed the insignificant whelp struggle before her, “Pathetic.”; there was a fire behind her gaze now. Zeke simply gawked as she mercilessly removed the weapon and proceeded to stab the dying man again, and again, and again...and again; a twisted grin spread across her face. 
 
“M-Maid Mari”, the mad waster slowly raised a protesting finger; even for him her brutality was a little much. “What!”, she barked back, angered that the impudent fool would dare interrupt her. Yes, she liked this feeling of...release. Weeks of hauling his stupid guns and listening to his stupid jingles and watching him make those stupid, cute, little faces. Scratch that, cute little— what was she thinking? The young woman looked upon the mangled dead man and recollected herself, regaining some of her lost composure as the high began to wear off. Still, that was the best she’d felt in a long time; something else stirred within as well. 
 
The thick legged lass strode towards her companion, who was still shocked by his maid’s repressed brutality. “You”, she pointed to him, “come here.” Mari dropped the bulky rucksack into the sandy ground by the fire before pointing to the mess Zeke had made earlier, “clean this up.” Astonished, Zeke speechlessly obliged, moving the bodies far from sight. When he finished the invigorated maid order him to approach; she used the large stiff bag as a seat. “Pants, down, now.”, every word rolled from her tongue domineeringly. How had they gotten to this point? It wasn’t but an hour ago that she’d been following his orders. Zeke nodded, trying his best to please her and followed the instructions; Unbuckling the scrap-armored jeans and pulling them down a thick erection sprung forward, only a foot from the tan young woman’s face. 
 
“Good”, she looked upon the impressive member with veiled pleasure. Never in a million years did she see herself pleasing the gun-loving goof, but killing that miserable bandit got her all riled up in a way she’d never expected; Zeke eagerly anticipated her touch. This was just like his doujin! It had been a dream of his since he’d seen it! Finally, after all the mindless killing— She snapped him back to reality, “First off”, Mari established fierce eye contact, “there are gonna be some changes.” The simple man gulped anxiously. 
 
“My name is Mari, not ‘Maid Mari’”, she squinted “I don’t like that.” Zeke quickly nodded. “Second! From now on you carry at least one of your silly guns. Seriously, you have two hands. Use them. Third, foot rubs every sundown, as hiking with all of our equipment is exhausting! Good ones too! Fourth! I want the big...knife...thing. It’s mine.” Each command only made his cock harder, what was happening? “Agreed?” “Yes, Mai—Mari.” She gave a devious little smirk, “Good.” 
 
Without further delays she gripped the thick of his prick with her small hand, stroking it tenderly and watching for a reaction. Zeke moaned softly and closed his eyes; oh how the tables had turned. Admiring his adorable little expressions the maid picked up the tempo and jerked him faster. Each time he let out a slight gasp she responded with a light scoff of her own; he was like putty in her hands, quite literally. It wasn’t long before she could feel her own body yearning for attention but she denied herself the pleasure, lest she give him any ideas. No, this would be fine, for now. Zeke could've taken the poor lass for himself a dozen times over by now, ravaging her in the Great Desert with no one likely to aid the young woman; that wasn't his style. Beyond his "blow its head off and play with the meat chunks" attitude he was a caring guy who just wanted a bit of attention from a sweet girl, who happened to be in a maid's uniform. Mari on the other hand just wanted to survive up until this point, but now? Their relationship would be much more than simple survival; this goofy stud was in for a ride. Unannounced, the mad raider released a thick torrent of messy cum from his twitching manhood which spilled onto the sandy surface below; Mari gasped in pleasure at the sight. “Hmph, good boy.”, she slowly milked the remainder of his seen onto the ground and gave a relieved chuckle. "Now, that foot rub."

