In a world gone to shit, where the remnants of humanity clinging to survival amid the ruins of civilization, James waited, studying the camp.

He lingered until twilight finally came. The air carried the sour reek of rust and rot, a testament to the violence and neglect left after the collapse. Ahead lay the raider’s camp—a brutal sprawl of mismatched walls and haphazard construction. He knew it wouldn’t fall without a fight, but the dimming light offered a chance to gain enough advantage that he could kill all of the guards and loot the camp for himself.

Once the sun dipped below the horizon, he moved. His boots pressed into the cracked ground, each step deliberate, moving as quietly as possible. As he approached the camp, he looked for an entry point in the chaotic fortress stitched together from the wreckage of a dying world. Mismatched walls of corrugated metal, splintered wood, and scavenged concrete slabs leaned unevenly, patched with whatever the raiders could claw from the wreckage. Burned-out hulks of cars formed a jagged perimeter, their charred frames half-buried in the dirt. Scrap littered the ground: twisted rebar, shattered glass, and scraps of plastic fluttering in the stale breeze made it hard to avoid making noise that would alert the guards.

The guard towers were staggered at uneven intervals, each with a man stationed atop them, rifles slung lazily over shoulders, their postures slack with boredom or exhaustion. They were supposed to watch for enemies, but their eyes drifted, dulled by the monotony of their task. Beyond the walls, the odd vulture circled overhead, black wings cutting through the gray sky, while others perched on the husks of vehicles, beady eyes glinting with hunger, waiting for the next corpse to pick clean.

Inside, the camp tents of frayed canvas sagged under layers of filth, their edges flapping in the wind. Smoky tendrils curled from scattered firepits, the embers casting a faint glow on the few men who patrolled the grounds—hardened figures clad in patched leather and scavenged gear, their faces etched with scars and showing the depredation from starvation. The stench hit hard: unwashed sweat, spilled blood, and the acrid bite of burning rubber, all mingling into a haze that clung to the air.

James crouched low, fingers holding the worn grip of his bow. He slowly pulled an arrow from his quiver, its fletching grazing his rough skin as he notched it. He focused on the sentry in the nearest tower, a lanky figure leaning against the railing, oblivious to James’ presence as he crept closer. James controlled his breathing, inhaling the fetid air, then exhaling to steady his aim. The arrow launched, sliced through the twilight with a hiss, and struck the man’s heart. He crumpled without a sound and collapsed on the tower’s floor. James’s mouth twitched into a dark, satisfied smile.

He scaled the tower swiftly, muscles complaining as he climbed the splintered frame. At the top, he located the next guard, this one yawning as he stared out into the dusk. A second arrow flew, burying itself in flesh, and the man dropped, lifeless. His two successful strikes went unnoticed by the camp’s denizens.

James quickly descended and drew his knife. Each of the men in the camp fell to his bow or the cold edge of his blade, throats slashed with ruthless efficiency. Once he was sure that everyone he had observed had been accounted for, he stripped them and dragged their naked bodies to the camp’s edge, piling them on to of each other amid the junk and car husks. Splashing gas from a battered can, its fumes sharp against the stench, he lit a match. He tossed it, and the fire roared to life, consuming their flesh. The pyre blazed, as vultures wheeled above, drawn to the smell. James watched, unyielding, with his arm crossed as the flames devoured it all.

“Help! We are starving! We need food!”

James paused and turned, his brow furrowing as he spotted an out-of-the-way corner he’d overlooked. The voice was a woman’s. He thrust a branch into the fire to act as a torch and then strode toward the sound.

The cry came from a shadowed nook near the camp’s edge, concealed behind a crumbling barricade of concrete and coiled barbed wire. James approached warily, his boots grinding against the gravel and broken glass, bow still clutched in one hand. Rounding the barrier, he stopped short.

There, shrouded in the flickering torchlight, stood a large cage—its bars forged from pitted steel, sturdy despite the rust creeping along their edges. Inside, five almost naked women stared out at him, their bodies pressed close to each other in the cramped space, their presence a stark validation of the raider’s brutality. Dirt smudged their skin, but beneath the grime, their beauty was undeniable—curves and contours that stirred something primal in him, their eyes glinting in fear.

He gawked at the sight. It had been so long since he had seen any women, much less five of them. However, they all seemed thin, he could see ribs on some of them and frowned. Not a good state to be in, especially in this unforgiving environment.

“Hello.”

“Who are you?” one of them asked.

“James.”

She was tall with blond hair, “Hi, can you help?”

Her voice was soft, almost melodic, and her unkempt hair fell in tangled waves over her shoulders, framing a face that was both delicate and hopeful. Her body was voluptuous, her breasts straining against the tattered fabric of her shirt, the outline of her nipples faintly visible in the torchlight. She smiled, a small curve of her lips, “I’m Angharad.”

“Nice to meet you, Angharad.”

“Thank you, can you let us out?”

Should he, he hadn’t thought on it apart from the fact that all five were gorgeous, she smiled at him, her full lips parting slightly to reveal a flash of white teeth, her gaze lingering on him made his pulse quicken.

“He’s like every other man, he wants to see our tits,” another said. She was shorter than the blond, with dark skin that gleamed like polished ebony in the flickering light, her black hair cropped close to her scalp, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her body was compact but lush, hips flaring wide beneath a ragged skirt, her breasts small and firm, pushing boldly against her top as she studied him with a taunting smirk.

He blushed. “Fine.”

“What’s your name?”

“Like you care,” she growled, her voice low and husky.

“I don’t,” he shrugged.

“It’s Toast.”

He smiled, and she yanked her top up with a defiant flourish, her tits exposed to his view. He gawked. God, they were perfection—firm and smallish, crowned with dark nipples that hardened in the cool air, begging to be touched, their pert shape igniting a flush of heat through him. The first ones he’d ever seen in real life.

She smirked at him, with a wicked glint in her eyes.

“See, told you he wanted to see our tits,” she nudged Angharad, who sighed and tugged her top up as well, hers pointed heavenly—full and round, pale skin glowing in the dimness, her rosy nipples peaked and inviting, a vision that made his mouth dry. “Let us out of here and I’ll suck your cock.”

The redhead said her name was “Capable”, he studied her. Her hair blazed like wildfire, cascading in loose curls down her back, framing a freckled face with wide, expressive eyes. Her body was softer, curvier, with heavy breasts that swayed slightly as she shifted, her hips generous and promising beneath ripped pants, her skin flushed with a warmth that drew his gaze like a moth to a flame.

“Oh, he likes her,” Toast grinned.

James smiled shyly.

The last two were a brunette who introduced herself as “Cheedo” and a platinum blond who said her name was “Dag”. Cheedo’s dark hair hung in a messy braid, strands clinging to her sweat-damp neck, her petite frame trembling slightly but her eyes fierce, her slender legs peeking from a ripped dress that barely concealed the swell of her pert breasts. Dag stood tall and statuesque, her hair a shimmering veil that brushed her narrow waist, her body lean and taut, breasts high and small, clearly invisible as she was topless, her long legs shifting with nervous energy.

“If I set you free, what’s in it for me?”

“We show you our tits?”

James inclined his head, “And?”

Toast twitched, studying him, she gave the outward look of someone hardened by the wasteland, but he knew, she knew that he knew, she was scared shitless.

“We’ll be wives.” There were nods, it seemed they were all in agreement, he blinked at that. Barely 20, with a group of wives? He would go from being a virgin to a surfeit of women. She grinned, “Think of the fun.”

James nodded, picked up a rock, took aim, and hit the lock until it broke.

They rushed out of the cage and clustered around him. James stepped back slightly and the dark-skinned one—Toast—smirked as she wrapped her arms around him and asked, “Not afraid are you?”

“Slightly,” he muttered, his voice catching as her curves pressed nearer.

“Oh, so you do talk then.”

“When I need to.”

Capable spoke up, “We are starving, can we get food? Do you need some?

James nodded and pointed to the middle of the camp.

Four of the women took off at a fast walk with James followed slowly behind.

Toast walked next to him and said, “I suppose you want all of their gear?”

“Yes.”

“After we eat, I will show you. I saw where they kept the good stuff.”

He inclined his head and she led the way, her hips swaying with each step, a deliberate tease that made his blood simmer. They caught up with the other girls and he watched while they raided the pantry to find something that they could eat without cooking. Capable poured water into cups so the girls could slake their thirst. She then shyly offered James one, which he took. After he saw the girls drink, he then drained the cup in a couple of gulps.

Cheedo and Dag passed around hardtack and jerky, which everyone devoured.

Toast pointed to a cramped lean-to nearby, its walls a patchwork of dented rusting metal and weathered boards. James walked over and opened the door, he was immediately hit by the smell of the musk from leather and oil.

Crates of weapons—bows, blades, rusted pistols—lined the walls, next to bundles of arrows and coils of rope. Tarps draped over piles of gear: dented armor, patched jackets, a pile of junk including what looked like an old Arabian oil lamp, even a gleaming machete catching the torch’s light.

He grinned, turning to Toast as she leaned against the wall, her body angled to highlight every curve, watching him with that same taunting smirk. He pushed the butt of the torch into the ground, picked up a crossbow, loaded it, and fired at the wall, the bolt thudding deep, making some of the women squeak in suprise.

The stash was a treasure trove amidst the ruins. The torch blazed, its light bathing the room in red and gold, glinting off the women’s skin as they hovered near the entrance—Angharad’s golden curves, Toast’s dark allure, Capable’s fiery softness, Cheedo’s fragile heat, Dag’s sleek grace. The vultures’ cries sharp against the flames, while the camp’s pyre still smoldered. James felt their eyes on him, their bodies a tantalizing presence, as he weighed the crossbow and the weight of what lay ahead in the endless dark.

“So what?” He handed it to her. “Why?”

“I don’t need it, I’ve got one but I prefer the bow since I can shoot faster.”

“Oh,” she grinned. “Thanks.”

“You’re going to need help with that,” the redhead said to James.

He nodded, “No one will find this place for some time. I’ll just come back and get the rest.”

“Or we could help you.”

“Why?”

Capable shrugged, “We’ve got nowhere else to go, and we promised to be your wives, so we are in this together.”

James mused, “You don’t have to, I’d let you out anyway.”

She sighed. “We’d be fine companions. And we don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. “Just keep up.”

“Will do,” Capable nodded.

James looked at her and said, “Bring their food, we will need it and they don’t. And Dag, get a shirt before you get sunburned.”

James rooted through all of it, the useful stuff he packed into bags, the women weren’t very strong so he gave them smaller bags to carry, Capable and Toast seemed to stand around him a lot, so he got them to work. They packed up what they could carry and followed him.

While he walked, he asked them, “How did you end up in the cage?”

He was shocked when several of the women burst out in tears. Finally, Angharad said, “Went out wandering, looking for food, ours ran out.”

The Dag nodded, “we got captured, quickly.”

“No hiding place, brought us here.”

Capable then interrupted, “Then you saved us.”

James thought for a few minutes. ‘They really are lost if I don’t help them. But I am scared. I don’t know how to act around one woman, much less five. If I make a mistake they could overwhelm me.’

Lost in thought, James didn’t respond to the women. He continued to trudge through the wastes until he reached the cliffs.

His dwelling wasn’t much from the outside, he had found it pure by chance—a spacious pre-war bunker hidden out in the great wasteland, buried in a cliff face like a vault from the distant past. The entrance was camouflaged by jagged rock and windblown sand, a steel door rusted but solid, its hinges now opened smoothly, a testament to the grease he had applied as he pulled on it. Inside, the air was cool and musty, a stark contrast to the scorching desolation outside.

“How did you find this place?”

“Luck,” he said as he waved them in.

“It’s well hidden,” Toast complimented him.

“Yes, I was very lucky to have found it,” he said and they walked inside. He grabbed his box of matches and started lighting candles, their flickering glow casting soft shadows across the concrete walls, illuminating the place enough for them to see.

The shelter had four rooms; an entryway, a main room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The bathroom was large enough, with a cramped shower stall in one corner, a toilet, and a cracked but working sink.

James had them place the packs in the main room—a barely furnished space with only a battered table and a few metal chairs. He knew the women were still hungry so he found forks and a can opener among his scavenged tools. He started opening the cans of food, their tinny scent filling the air. He handed one to Dag first, the platinum blonde’s slender fingers brushing his as she took it, her nails chipped and dirty but her touch electric. Next was the dour-faced Toast, her dark eyes glinting as she snatched the can and plunged a fork into it, eating with ravenous hunger. The others—Angharad, Capable, and Cheedo—took the offered cans and followed suit, stuffing their faces, their lips glistening with grease in the candlelight.

“There is water in the bathroom. There is a spring that provides for a cold shower, drinking water from the sink, and a flush toilet. I think this was built as a waystation so there aren’t a lot of luxuries.

“Where do you sleep?”

James pointed into the bedroom, he mused, “Tonight I’ll sleep in here, and you ladies can sleep there.”

Toast snorted, “Ain’t no way we’re allowing that.”

There were nods, Capable blushed but nodded.

James looked at Toast and she folded her arms, she was definitely the strong one in this group, he imagined she was threatened with a lot of beatings from the gang, he sighed and waved his hand.

“Fine, lead the way.”

She smirked.

James threw some blankets on the floor and told the women to sleep there. After blowing all the candles out, he lay on the bed and worried that he was stupid and they would attack him while he slept. His hand clutched the knife hidden under the pillow as he wrestled with his paranoia.

Finally sleep claimed him, but he kept waking with a start, each time trying to make out the women in the pitch-black room.

In the morning, the noise from the women woke him. Groggily, he sat up and from habit, lit a candle. The light showed five sets of eyes staring at him. He pointed to the shower, “Everyone quickly rinse off, there isn’t a lot of water. Then we will eat and return to the camp for clothes and more stuff.”

Angharad took charge and pointed to each woman, assigning them an shower order, with her going last. The girls then stripped naked and the first one went to the bathroom.

“Oh God,” he thought, jolting while his cock spasmed in his trousers, hot, thick spurts soaking the fabric, the sticky warmth spreading against his thigh.

He got out of bed, mortified, the wet patch clinging uncomfortably to his skin as he stumbled into the main area. The women ignore him, focused on their first shower in weeks.

Finally, it was James’ turn, and entered the shower, the cold water crashing over his clothed body, washing away the evidence of his release.

By the time he finished the shower and cleaned up the room, the women were again clothed. Once again James passed out cans of food to the hungry women. “After everyone has eaten, we will go back to the camp to see what we can salvage. We will leave in late afternoon so the heat will be less.”

Dag asked him, “You alright?”

He sighed, “Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

She sensed there was more but kept the thought to herself and sighed.

The day was more or less boring as James sat outside watching the wasteland, there wasn’t really anything to do out there, no cities to explore or people to meet, other than this group of strange women. Then Dag walked over to him, her platinum hair shimmering in the harsh sunlight, her lean body swaying with a quiet assurance that tugged at his senses despite the day’s dullness.

“James.”

“Sup,” he looked up.

“Toast and I have discussed what happened this morning.”

He flushed, “Don’t know what you are talking about.”

She nodded and smiled, “I do, it happens to all men, you’re in bed with some chrome ass bitches, of course, it’s going to happen, you stupid smeg.”

James nodded.

“And your point is?”

“We can help,” she smiled fully, her lips parting with a glint of teeth, her eyes sparking with mischief.

James sighed, “How?”

She rolled her eyes, “Stand up, are you that naïve?”

He flushed angrily, “Ain’t had no formal education and I’ve been alone for years so I don’t know what you are getting at.”

She pulled her top off and he stared at her perfect breasts, small and high, their pale skin glowing in the sunlight filtering through the shadow covering the bunker’s entrance, her nipples pink and tightening in the cool air. She dropped the shirt and then her bottoms, revealing the smooth stretch of her thighs and the wild patch of hair framing Dag’s plump pussy lips, full and inviting, already glistening with a hint of wetness. His gaze locked there as she rubbed her hand over her slit, fingers tracing the swollen folds, the sight sending a surge of heat straight to his groin.

“We are going to be your wives, so sex is part of that. I want to go first. You wanna have some fun?”

“Sure.”

She took his hand and walked him into the bedroom, her bare skin brushing his arm, the warmth of her body a sharp contrast to the cold concrete walls. The other women stood around watching and smiling while he blushed under their collective stare, a mix of curiosity and hunger in their eyes.

When they reached the bedroom, Dag gently kissed him before sitting on the bed. She smiled at him and said, “Take me.”

“Where?”

“God,” Toast exclaimed.

James spun around and saw the other women standing at the door, all completely naked. The women descended upon him and for the first time since he’d met them, he actually felt fear, his body locking up as they swarmed, a flurry of hands stripping him bare. Yanking off his shirt to expose his lean chest, and tugging down his trousers and boxers until he stood naked before them, his cock twitching under their scrutiny. Their hands roamed over him, exploring every inch—Toast’s fingers curling around his shaft, stroking it with a firm, teasing grip; Capable’s soft hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently as they drew tight; Cheedo’s slender finger slipping between his cheeks, penetrating his ass with a slow, probing thrust that made him gasp, his cock surging to full hardness, thick and pulsing in Toast’s grasp.

Toast guided him onto the bed, where Dag was waiting. She opened her mouth and started sucking on his cock. James immediately came, filling her mouth. Embarrassed, he started to pull away but was stopped by the other women. Capable laughed and ran her hand across his back.

“Don’t worry about it, it is your first time and we haven’t allowed you a chance to get ready. The next time will be longer and by the time you have been with all of us a few times, you will be a stud!”

Dag said, “You taste great, I can’t wait for round two.” She got onto the bed and on all fours, presenting her ass to him, the firm cheeks parted slightly to reveal her plump pussy lips, slick and glistening with arousal, a tantalizing sight that made his breath hitch.

Toast ran her hands over his cock until he was rock solid. She guided him to the bed, her dark fingers parting Dag’s plump pussy lips, spreading them wide to expose the dripping, rosy core, the sharp scent of her arousal thick in the air. Capable pressed against his back, her hands on his hips as she guided him forward, aligning his throbbing cock with Dag’s slick entrance. She pushed on him, and he sank into Dag’s wet hole, the tight, velvety heat of her pussy swallowing him inch by inch, her plump lips stretching around his girth, pulling a deep moan from his throat as Dag’s breathy cry joined his own.

The two moaned together, their voices echoing in the crowded room as he thrust deeper, his hips slamming against her ass, the wet smack of skin on skin bouncing off the walls. Dag’s plump pussy lips gripped him, hot and slick, her walls pulsing with each plunge, drawing him in as she rocked back to meet his rhythm, her juices coating his shaft, dripping down his thighs. Toast knelt beside them, her hand sliding between Dag’s thighs to rub her clit, fingers circling the swollen bud nestled between those full lips, making Dag’s moans rise into sharp, desperate cries, her body trembling under the onslaught.

Capable’s nails bit into his hips, urging him faster, her breasts bouncing against his back, nipples scraping his skin with every thrust, sending jolts of heat through him.

Angharad moved in, kneeling near Dag’s side, her hands reaching to cup Dag’s smaller breasts, fingers pinching the stiff nipples until Dag whimpered, her pussy clenching tighter around James’s cock, the added pressure driving him wild. Cheedo stayed close, her finger plunging deeper into his ass, the intrusion a delicious shock that made his balls tighten, his shaft swelling inside Dag’s dripping heat, her plump lips sucking him in with every thrust. Toast’s dark eyes met his, her smirk wicked as she worked Dag’s clit faster, her other hand slipping to stroke his balls, the dual sensations pushed him toward the edge. Dag’s ass jiggled with each thrust, her cries growing frantic, her pussy spasming as she teetered on the brink, those plump lips quivering around him.

James’s breath came in ragged bursts, his cock pulsing, the tight, wet heat overwhelming him, every thrust a plunge into raw, primal pleasure as he finally released. The women stepped back and allowed him to sit on the bed. Toast immediately started sucking on his cock, cleaning it of his and Dag’s juices.

Angharad held his hand, “see what you have to look forward to, our husband?”

They all rested, all of them quite naked, he kept staring at Cheedo’s dark bush, a thick tangle of curls nestled between her slender thighs, glistening faintly with sweat in the candlelight. Toast grinned moving her hand over his chest, her dark fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, sending a shiver through him as he moaned, their sighs blending in the still air.

“Wasn’t that fun?”

“Can I go next?” Cheedo blurted out, his grin matched hers and she nodded excitedly.

“Not at the moment, I think y’all broke my cock.”

There was laughter.

After another meal of cold canned food, they headed back to the Raider’s camp. James knew the clothing the women had wouldn’t do, not in the slightest. Fortunately, he had stripped the raiders of theirs, so he mentally catalogued the items he had removed as the group made their way back to the camp.

The camp was deathly silent, as they walked in, the occasional buzzard flapped its wings at them but he ignored them. Reaching the clothing, he told them to strip while he started tossing clothing he thought would fit, Dag, being the tallest was the easiest to dress since there were several tall raiders. In the end they all looked like regular raiders now. Next he lead them to the lean to for weapons. After a few questions, he told them to pick out anything they thought they could use. “Don’t worry; I will make sure you get training.”

The women showered James with thanks, each making sure to touch or kiss him several times while they were dressing and selecting weapons.

During the evening while they explored the camp and gathered more loot, James heard an explosion in the distance. Quickly climbing the closest guard tower, he saw a truck explode. Scrambling down, he related the information and took off running toward the truck. The women exchanged looks and ran puffing and panting after him. James was the first one there. There was a woman trapped inside the burning rig.

“James, save her!”

He ran up to the door and wrenched it open, he cut the seat belt with his knife and grabbed her, she was wearing a harness of some sort that got caught, he used the knife to cut it off, noticing she was missing part of her left arm.

“Sorry, love,” he thought as he dragged her out. The woman picked her up and ran up the hill. James looked around the rig’s cabin, grabbed her sawed-off shotgun and a small pack from the passenger seat, and ran just before the rig exploded in a great fireball.

“Is she?”

He checked her, “Nope, still alive.”

Toast sighed and nodded, “Thank the deities for that, there has been enough death.” He stood, picked her up, hefted her over his shoulder, and started walking. As they moved back toward the camp, the walking and movement must’ve nudged her awake. She slammed her boot into him, knocking the wind out of him and the two went down into the sand. The shaved-headed woman rolled with the momentum and went to hit him again.

The women gathered protectively around him and she paused.

“What, what happened?”

“Your rig went up,” Capable explained. “James saved you.”

Her eyes went to James.

“Are you a road warrior?”

He snorted, blinked, and looked at her, “No just someone trying to survive in this shit hole place.”

She lowered her hand and nodded in understanding.

“I get that.”

She relaxed and studied him, he flinched as Toast touched his swollen lip and he looked away, the dark-skinned beauty pulled his face to hers and kissed him.

“Ouch,” he yelped.

Toast kissed his neck and he relaxed.

“Where were we headed,” the woman asked.

“The raider’s camp that James captured,” Capable explained. “Not far from here.”

She nodded.

“Lead the way.”

James got up and did, Capable moved into his arms as did Angharad, the two held him, he didn’t need support but liked the company nevertheless, he gripped Capable’s ass and she smirked at him, her fire-red hair moving with the wind.

“So what’s your name, lone survivor?”

“James,” he said.

“James doesn’t talk much,” Angharad explained. “So we do the talkin’ for him. He killed everyone in the camp and rescued us.”

The woman nodded, the blond looked at her. “You a war boy?”

“Ain’t got no penis,” she smirked. “All woman. No, I’m a Valkyrior.”

She paused and looked at the warrior woman.

“You’re one of Joe’s?”

“Immortan, yes.” She nodded, “Furiousa.”

“I’ve heard of you.”

James nodded, “Explains a lot.”

“Like?”

He smiled, “Why you a woman, was on that rig and how you know how to fight.”

“Yeah.”

They reached the camp and went to the food tent. There was still a lot that they were not able to carry yesterday. The women immediately started passing out food and water to everyone. Once the meal was over, Angharad took Furiousa over to the pile of clothes and let her pick something to replace her smoke-damaged ones.

James gave her back the shotgun and bag he salvaged from the rig. “You can stay with us or head back to your camp, the choice is yours,” he said. “If you want to leave, take some of the food and water.”

“I’d like to stay for a couple of days before heading back,” Furiousa replied.

“Okay, why don’t you look around to see if there is anything you would like.” James then motioned for Angharad and walked her to the side. “What do you think, should we show her the cliff shelter or have everyone stay here until she leaves?” he asked.