Chapter 1 - Big Iron

A thin wisp of silver smoke slowly rose from the end of the Sequoia's barrel, and across from it, a fresh corpse slumped against the slimy cave wall. 

Damn, he was a good shot, another filthy bandit slain by "The Ranger." 

There were others like him, NCR Veterans that had earned the privilege of donning the infamous duster, with all of its various accessories, but there was really only one "Ranger." 

Some say that he rode into the Mojave one day, with no real warning, just a fistful of tags to identify himself and a dead centurion's goddamn head. From then on, he was a hitman for the NCR, and very few questions were asked; his work seemed to do much of the talking.

He'd tracked a band of wandering Fiends' gang members from the outskirts of the New Vegas strip to a dusty old gold mine out west. They'd been a pesky bunch. Killing, looting, and raping as they pleased across the central Mojave, but every mole rat had its day. He'd cornered them, and the fight they'd put up so far was quite pitiful. 

In truth, the night vision setting in his old-world SWAT helmet had tipped the playing field in his favor. He'd lain out at least six of the rotten bastards in quick succession, leaving a bloody trail of gibs and gore. 

They'd panicked once the shooting started, of course, blurting the occasional explicative between random exchanges of fire, "Deathclaw cock-sleeve," being his favorite so far. 

Their little outfit of shitheads had quickly diminished from 7 to 1 in a matter of minutes by the Veteran Ranger's gloved hand, and he'd be sure to make the last one take a while. 

---

The Ranger stealthily crept through the cave tunnels, sure to cling to the nearest wall as he made his way. Wouldn't take long to find his quarry, as they'd presumably ran as far as possible into the network of tunnels; eventually, they'd reach a dead end.

He stepped over empty Jet inhalers and spent syringes of psycho, garbage from either a previous romp or a last-ditch high before the brief battle. Not that it had helped them. 

He slowly glid his empty sidearm into its holster before entering the final chamber, the heart of their pitiful hideout, catching the sound of his target just ahead. 

She was a mean bitch, to put it lightly, "Texas Red" if he wasn't mistaken. Raiders weren't a creative bunch, too high on Med-X, and busy ventilating kiddos to be creative. 

Her hair was a fiery crimson, with the left half shaved and shoulder-length locks falling down the right side. Blast master armor hastily draped over her petite, twitching body. Texas Red couldn't have weighed more than a buck-ten wet, but from the reports was quite the savage.

Even so, her exposed, flat chest peeked past the loose armor. The Ranger was still a man and took notice of such things. Perhaps she'd have been cute wastelander gal, which was hard to find, once upon a time. Now, the woman was little more than a psycho bitch; shame. 

"Come out, Space Man!" She yelled, frantically. In Texas Red's hands was a firefighter's ax, which she madly swung about the shadowy cave. 

She was so high on a cocktail of stims that she hadn't thought to grab a lantern or start a fire for visibility, aimlessly swinging her weapon about in a stupor. 

The Ranger sighed lightly, ever so carefully sticking to the chamber's wall. 

"I'm gonna gut you, then fuck you!" She lowered the ax, manically itching her head in confusion, "or is it fuck, then gut?"

He moved swiftly, using her confusion to his advantage, and locked an arm around her neck with expert technique. The raider fought his submission hold for a while, kicking and swinging her thin arms about in a rage. While the NCR Veteran was rather proficient at his job, she had quite a bit of help from "Mr. Buff and Mrs. Med-X."

He prevailed, yet near the end of her effort, the raider let out a trailing-off moan of pleasure. Was she into getting choked? 

He lowered her body as she slumped into unconsciousness, then proceeded to hastily bind her wrist behind her back with the bit of rope that he kept on his person. Red had been so amped up on combat drugs that the Fiend could've snapped awake at any moment. 

The Ranger could've ended things right there, maybe used his bowie knife to stick her like a pig. Perhaps he'd stick her another way.

---

Texas Red awoke almost an hour later in her little hideout, except now she'd been hogtied, and a small oil lit lamp illuminated the chamber. 

"What the fuck," she groggily mumbled as she squirmed on the cold cave floor. 

Above her stood an Arizona Ranger, a big iron dangling from the holster on his hip. 

"Who the fuck--"

He interrupted his captive, "How many people did you kill in that lil' old town of Agua Fria? With you and your boys?" 

She stretched her neck to look up at him, making an annoyed face as she did so, "What the shit are you on about? Speeder! Milo!" Perhaps she'd forgotten the scrap that had ensued, blue eyes searching about for her murderous companions.

The Ranger simply shook his head, knelt close to his captive's face, and quickly drew the massive Ranger's Sequoia from its holster. 

Texas Red's eyes widened as he skillfully twirled the gun mere inches from her face, and he could tell that panic was beginning to form, even for an outlaw such as herself. 

The NCR Veteran slickly ejected the spent casings onto the floor in front of the bound Fiend. "One of those ought to be Speeder or Milo."

"You fucking NCR shit brain." 

He shrugged, "Yeah, I'm NCR... to a degree." The Ranger began to slowly pace around Texas Red. "Veteran Rangers operate on a particular set of guidelines. We don't really have a rank or jurisdiction. We're a particular breed that just likes to get shit done, and as long as brass is happy, aren't many rules." 

"Brass? What the mirelurk dick are you on about?"

"Essentially, you're fucked." He spoke with cold humor, "Literally, you're fucked as well."

Texas Red was beginning to squirm, "W-What?!" But despite all of her struggling, there was little that she could do to escape. He crouched low behind her, stripping the thick plates of metal from her legs and tearing away the ragged pants. 

The Fiend had participated in several violent assaults and didn't have much empathy for any of the people she violated. Texas Red had used all manner of blunt instruments, old-world toys, or simply reveled in the rapacious nature of her male gang members; now, she'd get a taste of the other side. 

Frontier Justice. 

Raiders, like most wastelanders, weren't keen on wearing underwear, so the Ranger immediately caught a glimpse of her hairy little mound. He took a quick look at it, making sure that he wouldn't need a dose of Rad-X once he was finished. 

Everything checked out, and from the looks of it, Texas Red was surprisingly moist down below. He couldn't tell if her body was shivering in fear or in anticipation for what was to come. 

"You must be some kind of degenerate," he spoke while running a gloved digit along the outer lips of her pussy. A strand of clear fluids was already beginning to run down the labia. It was the womanhood of a deranged woman, unkempt but not so much so. Just enough hair to make a man a little riled-up himself.

She quivered at the touch, and in all honesty, her captor was somewhat correct. Texas Red wasn't a bit crazy. She was as wild as a bloatfly on brahmin shit. Brain fried from her brutalist lifestyle and a perpetual haze of drugs; pale legs trembled as The Ranger roughly gripped one of her thighs. 

"A-Aren't you supposed to be the f-fucking good guy?!" Now she was pissed, albeit a bit aroused. 

"NCR? Maybe. Me? I'm a moral subjectivist." He quipped while beginning to undo his holster and gun belt.

Texas Red didn't know what the fuck he was talking about, but ears perked up when she heard the unzipping of jeans. The Fiend was still bound and on her stomach, completely unable to resist or even catch a glimpse of this mad shootist as he prepared himself. 

The build-up and the power he'd felt had already awoken The Ranger's little cowboy below, which freely sprung his tight jeans once he'd undone them. Unbeknownst to Texas Red, radiation, and all manner of genetically modified meals had worked a strange miracle of the mysterious man's body. His cock was a monstrous thing, almost inhuman when he was ready for business, thick as a wrist and nearly a foot long. Something that belonged on a goddamn super mutant, let alone a man.

He pulled her exposed rear towards his waist as he knelt low, not wasting a lick of time before pressing the solid head of his prick against her moist little muff. 

"Fuck!" Texas red let out a short gasp. Who the FUCK was this guy? 

For as much as she wanted to skin her tormentor, a twisted chunk of her subconscious eagerly awaited the stern fucking. 

As if he was reading her mind, The Ranger happily obliged, forcing the first half of his meaty girth inside of the petite psycho. She gasped and groaned in budding pleasure, trying not to give him immediate satisfaction, but an already doped up body quickly disobeyed her commands; legs spasmed and squirmed under the force and pressure of the NCR Vet. 

He took pleasure in humiliating raider sluts such as herself. In secret, it was why he took assignments like this. Most of his peers thought him a woman-hating chauvinist when, in reality, he loved women. In fact, he liked to show them just how much he loved them. Someone had to show them the error of their ways.

A leather-gloved hand grabbed ahold of her crimson hair, holding on tightly while pushing her face into the dirty floor. It was rough, unrestrained, and almost evil the way he slammed into her aching slit, but she didn't seem to mind all that much. The Fiend reveled in the filth of it, getting even more turned on as he spat onto her face, shoddy mascara becoming a series of even sloppier streaks.

Each time that Texas Red's captor slipped his length between her tightening walls, she let out a short grunt of relief and ecstasy. There were no curses left to hurl as he fucked the wind out of her. 

"For a junkie raider," he spoke between deep thrust, "you're pretty tight."

She grumbled a stifled thanks, ass raised high as he drilled into her like an animal. It hadn't taken long to break in the lustful deviant, as she'd already tensed along the length of his cock several times, convulsing as she came time after time. It was nearly overkill, but her sensitive body gripped as tightly as it could to her captor's shaft. Texas Red received a wave of bliss every time the thick veins of his cock pulsed.

"Damn," he let out a groan, "Unfortunately, I have places to be." He mused while securing a set of hard final strokes, creating a loud slapping sound as their skin made contact. 

Without much warning, he blasted her womb with a genetically enhanced load, an absurd amount of viscous semen flowing past her raw little lips. It wasn't one bit human, to say the least, but Texas Red didn't seem to mind. 

Whatever he'd shot into her combined with the chemicals in her bloodstream was like a shot of heaven. The meek raider slipped off his manhood as he withdrew and immediately crumpled into the ground. She couldn't help but let out a beast-like cry of joy, stuttering as her twitching body released the excess fluids. 

The Ranger let out a sigh, "Well, Goddamn." He was also relieved, as he only saved his potent gravy for encounters such as this. It was justice if he'd ever seen it. 
