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In All My Dreams I Drown

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"Let go of me!" Freyr shouted. "You can't go back, he'll kill you!" The others ran after him. "No he won't! He wouldn't hurt me! He loved me, he loved us!" Freyr kept running towards the armada. "He didn't love anything! He can't love anything!" Dag spat out, pulling at Freyr's gown. "Yes he can! He spoiled us!" Freyr yelped, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "He kept us prisoner!" Cheedo, now catching up with the rest retorted. "Freyr! He won't forgive us!" Cheedo panted, she had already attempted to run back to the Armada herself. "He loved me..." Freyr fell to the sand, shouting at the others. "I know he loved me! He kept me in HIS quarters, he let me warm HIS bed! He trusted me! He loved me!" Freyr sobbed. "He kept you like a pet Freyr! You were nothing but an animal to him!" Angharad bit. "You don't know what you're talking about! You weren't like me! You weren't loved like me!" Freyr cried. The wives realed back, angered and heartbroken their new companion would say such things. The Dag, absolutely furious now, "You are just meat! Meat for him to abuse! A glorified play thing!" She roared. Freyr, now bawling, his hands wiping away his tears. "At least I wasn't treated like some," Freyr took a moment to find the right words, "Like some breeding stock!" The wives, even more angered now. "You think he thought of you any different!" Angharad hissed. Freyr looked past the five women, over at Furiosa, toying with the under side of the rig, she looked back at him, indifferent to his feelings, "Are we done yet?" She grumbled. "Sooky." The Dag whispered, insulting Freyr. He stood up, gathering himself together, turn back around to look at the War Party again before heading back to the Rig. He tailed behind the others, not wanting to upset them again. Knowing he couldn't take back what he said, mostly because he meant some of it. He knew, deep down, Immortan Joe was capable of love.

The day shifted into it's cold, bleak aftermath. Freyr lit each candle and lantern to illuminate the room, it's sandstone walls echoing his every step. Freyr had bathed, talked his skin and even applied the charcoal over his eyelids, just as he knew Joe liked. Now, he just patiently waited for his return. Freyr took this time of waiting to make himself and the room look extra inviting, never wanting to upset The Immortan. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands fidgeting with the edges of his gown. Nervously looking at the vaulted door, he took a breath. It was his first time. He was entirely clueless on what that even ment, but if Joe knew, then it must be important. He had told Freyr the night before as they laid in bed together.

"Freyr, my mutt?" Joe's nickname for his manservant. "Yes, Immortan?" Freyr asked. "Has anyone laid their hands upon you?" His questions was straight forward, but confusing to Freyr. "What does that mean?" Freyr questioned. Joe shifted, placing his hand on Freyr's thigh, and guiding him to sit atop him. "I mean," Joe began, "Has anyone ever claimed you before." Joe then pressed a firm hand against Freyr's soft abdomen, putting pressure against his virgin organ. Freyr blushed furiously, wishing to hide his face in embarrassment. He could barely get the words out, "No, never my Immortan." He stuttered. "Good," Joe moved his hand and rested it back on Freyr's pillowy thigh, "You have something very special to me, something that only I should enjoy." That word, special, crawled it's way through Freyr's head and nestled it's meaningless sweetness in his brain. "Anything for you my Immortan Joe."

And tonight was the night. Joe would claim his Mutt. Freyr repositioned his seat, and just at that moment he heard him. His heavy footsteps echoing through the corridor. Freyr blushed with excitement and nervousness. What if he didn't know what to do, what if he did something wrong, what if it hurts? All these questions flooded his mind, but it was all too late. The heavy metal door opened, and Joe stepped through. Freyr's heart pounded through his chest, he swore it echoed in the chambers. "My love." Joe stepped towards the bed. "My Immortan." Freyr stood up, arms out to embrace his master. "I see you are to my readiness." Joe exclaimed. "Indeed, I had no time to dawdle." Freyr looked down at Joe's hands, now wandering up the side openings of Freyr's dress. "I've had a tiring day, my love," Joe groaned, "Would you be so kind as to undress me?" He insisted. "Of course Joe." Freyr removed the center belt piece and gun holsters, and then set them on his shelf. Freyr then began to unbuckle the arm guards of each of his forearms. Then the armor on his biceps. Finally, unclasping the chest armor, removing it and placing it on a cloth mannequin. Freyr turns back to face Joe, who was hesitantly removing his mask. Freyr blushed, it's not like he hasn't seen Joe's face before, it's just, to him this time is different. Freyr even caught the smallest bit of a blush on Joe face as he turned. A weak attempt to force it off and look stoic was made once Joe had notice he had caught Freyr's eye. Freyr approached him once more and began to remove his cloth wrappings along his arms and the scarf that settled along his shoulders. Freyr tossed them over a desk that sat parallel to the bed. Freyr then took a moment to admire his master. He was putrid to some, but Freyr adored The Immortan more than any War Boy of wife. Freyr ran a hand down Joe's bare chest, down to the belt of pants. Joe let out a gruff sigh as Freyr undid his belts. "My love." Joe sighed. Freyr blushed furiously. Joe lifted a hand to Freyr's face and cupped the shorter man's cheek. "You're doing so well." Joe whispered before placing a kiss on Freyr's forehead. Freyr's face was as red as cherries by then. The Immortan turned to take a seat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs to unbuckle his boots, tossing each to the side. Freyr grabbed the wooden brush from the night stand, Joe liked his hair brushed before going off to sleep. Joe offered his hand, and pulled Freyr close. Joe's eyes now level to Freyr's pelvis, Freyr could do nothing but blush yet again. As Freyr started brushing the Immortan's hair, he felt Joe snake a hand through the slit of his dress. Grasping eagerly at Freyr's thick thighs. Freyr stopped brushing and moaned softly. "Keep tending to me Freyr, your attention is not need yet." Joe mumbled. Freyr did his best to clear his head, but he could feel something in his core, a need.

Freyr climbed aboard the War Rig as Furiousa started up the roaring engine, looking back yet again at the heard of vehicles in pursuit as he climbed up the steps. He took a breath and hopped in. Sitting next to Toast, a wife who had recently befriended Freyr. She was reloading a rifle that Furiosa had shot off while defending the weak group. She expelled a disappointed sigh. "Only 7 goes for this big boy." She announced. Furiosa was stoic as ever, a focused brow lowering as she drove the rig. The man in the passenger seat next to her turned to face the sensitive group. "Hand it over." He demanded. Toast passed the rifle to the man. He sat it across his lap. The Dag pulled her dress from under her, "Why'd he even keep you." She uttered. Everyone looked around, unsure whom she was speaking to. "You can't bear children, you can't produce milk." She peaked through her white, stringy hair and glanced at Freyr. He sat up a bit, "Oh..." he began, "I'm not to sure of that myself." He looked out the Rig's glassless window, gazing at the vast desert. The young man crossed his arms and rested them on the windowsill, sitting his chin on them as well. "Maybe..." Freyr paused, "He was lonely."

Joe suddenly pulled Freyr even closer now and hiked up the young man's dress. Freyr, now most definitely could not concentrate. "Keep working Freyr." Joe growled, slightly annoyed. The Immortan continued his inspection of Freyr, groping at the soft flesh and watching it jiggle when he let go. Freyr was very well fed and spoiled, quite obviously Joe's favorite compared to any of the malnourished War Boys. Freyr made a desperate attempt to continue his tending of Joe's mane, in fear of upsetting the Immortan. Taking locks of it and brushing out sand or dirt that may have been caught while out in the Wastelands. Freyr was then suddenly met with a swift palm to the back of his thigh, causing him to jump. "I said keep working, Freyr." Joe grumbled. "Y-Yes sir." Freyr whimpered. Freyr grabbed a other strand of Joe's gorgeous hair and continued brushing it out, making sure to catch every tangle. Despite Freyr's frantic attempt to pay attention, he kept feeling Joe's hand sneak closer and closer to the core between his legs. Freyr knew Joe's intention, it was Freyr intentions too, yet he was as nervous as could be. Freyr couldn't explain it, he had never felt this way before. Each grab, every grope send a warming sensation to the heat between his thighs. "Joe..." Freyr pleaded, "I can't focus." Joe stopped for a moment and looked up at Freyr. Something behind those icey hateful eyes made Freyr swoon. Joe let out a hefty sigh, "My Mutt, you always looked so perfect caring for me," Joe sighed, "I believe it's time I return the favor." Freyr's heart felt heavy and overflowing with love. He was so happy to finally be claimed by the Immortan, whatever that meant. Freyr nodded, consenting to whatever Joe had planned that night. Joe pulled Freyr even closer than before, face to face with Freyr's lower abdomen, Joe placed a kiss on his soft pudgy stomach. Freyr held the wooden brush tightly, folding his arms up as to not get in the way of Joe's work. Joe caressed Freyr's soft pale thighs, admiring the scars decorating them. He worked his way up to the knot at the side of Freyr's dress, holding it to the softer man's body. Joe slowly untied the bow, letting Freyr's gown drop to the floor.

The elevator dropped slowly, the Wretched rushing towards it making promises of usefulness to the Immortan. He stood emotionless, glaring over the crowd, eyeing out anyone who may be exploited for his own gain. A few War Pups, Milkers and Treadmill Rats. The Immortan gathered these few but stopped the guards from ascending the elevator. Immortan Joe pointed out into the crowd. Directing everyone's attention to a young man. His faced more rounded than those among them, most of the fatter of the Wretched were assumed to be cannibals, otherwise there would be no excuse to be that plump when even water was scarce. Joe pointed out again to the man, "You!" He demanded. The young man looked around, unsure if The Immortan had truly chosen him. The man believed he had no redeemable attributes, he could not produce milk, he could not be bred, too weak to be a War Boy. The man came forward, dressed in a sleeveless hooded cloak, boots tucked into pants much too long for him. The Immortan offered his hand, the man looked up to the Immortan, eyes beaming with hope. The Immortan pulled the man up on the platform as it ascended back into the Citadel.

Freyr gasped as Joe slid his rough hands between his thighs, parting them gently. Joe ran his hands up and down Freyr's torso and thighs, lowering them to rest right above Freyr's heat. Freyr's face was hot with blush, so red he thought he'd might pass out. Joe placed on hand on Freyr's lower back, keeping the young man supported while he crept his other hand between Freyr's thighs. Feeling the warmth of Freyr's front hole. Freyr moaned softly as Joe parted his folds, already slicked and prepared from Joe's inspection. Joe then ran a finger across the underside of Freyr's cock.

The cloaked man didn't say a word. Probably still in shock that The Immortan Joe had chose him. As the platform reached the top The Immortan turned to the man he had hand picked from the crowd. "What is your name?" Joe inquired. The man looked at the Immortan's hands, strong, the man thought. "Uhm, I don't know," The man responded, "I was never given one." The Immortan took the man's hand and gently grapsed it. "Hm..." The Immortan hummed, "Freyr, god of peace." The man parted his lips, unsure what The Immortan meant. "I don't understand." He said. "Freyr, that is your name." Joe answered. The man, Freyr, blushed profusely. Why was he chosen, what use did he have, why was The Immortan being so kind to him.

Joe tugged at Freyr's aching cock, causing him to moan. "Keep your voice down my love." Joe ordered. "Y-Yes Joe." Freyr gasped. Joe began stroking the entrance to Freyr's love. Freyr could barely keep himself up, his legs were so weak he was now leaning on Joe's shoulder for support. "Be good for daddy." Joe purred. Freyr was breathing so heavy he swore he saw it linger in the air, it began to fog his spectacles. He clung to the Immortan as if his life depended on it. Joe, now satisfied with the amount of teasing he was subjecting Freyr to, pressed a finger to the younger man's entrance. Freyr gasped, catching his moan before it could echo through the room. Joe slid his finger in with ease, Freyr had been teased so much his slick had coated his thighs. "Good boy." Joe huffed.

Freyr stepped through the seemingly endless corridor. Shyly tailing behind the Immortan, he followed him to a metal door, unlike the one he had passed before, this one didn't have a vault over it. However, it had several locks along the side, keeping whatever was inside hidden. The Immortan took care with every lock. He opened the heavy door and offered Freyr to enter first, holding out a welcoming hand. Freyr stepped into the stone room, admiring the walls covered in tapestries of old Norse symbols. An arched glass pane faced out, looking out on the city of Wretched, their camp fires and lantern sparkling the slums. To think Freyr was only there a few hours ago, it made his mind spin. He was still never given an answer as to why he was even chosen, what was his importance anyways. He looked around the room more, a small stair case leading up to a bed. Suspended from the ceiling was an ancient chandelier, wax candles icicling down from their holsters. Freyr turned to the Immortan who was shutting the door behind him. "Why have you brought me here." Freyr cautiously asked. The Immortan approached Freyr, he was looking at Freyr's hands, who were defensively reading at hip level. "There is no need to fear, my child." The Immortan spoke. He grapsed Freyr's hands, they were significantly rougher than the younger mans. "I have been looking for the right..." Joe paused, unsure if he was positive in saying what he had planned, "individual." He finished his first sentence. "Someone who would be willing, eager and..." He paused again, looking Freyr up and down, lingering his cornflower eyes on Freyr's waist, "soft." Sentence two. A knock interrupted this moment of intimacy between the two men. Joe became annoyed quite easily, stomping over to the metal entrance and swinging it open. "What is it!" He hissed. He looked up, his son, Rictus Erectus towering over him, making a well over six foot man seem small. "I-I brought them," he held out a messily folded beige garment. "I see." Immortan snatched the cloth from his sons hands. "Who is that dad?" Rictus had locked eyes with Freyr. Freyr held up his hands to waist level yet again. "This is Freyr." Joe introduced the smaller man. "What's he doing here? Is the dress for him? Why's he in your room?" Rictus bombarded. "Leave." Joe demanded, "You ask too many questions." "But-" Rictus was cut off by Joe slamming the steel door. "Forgive him." He apologizes on behalf of his son, "He may be strong, but he has a weak mind." The Immortan's hands twisted in the fabric of the dress. "This," Joe held out the dress, "is yours, you will not be needing those rags anymore." Freyr held the dress, it was thin and almost transparent. "Won't I be cold?" Freyr joked. "That, my child, brings me to my conclusion." Joe tilted his head, Freyr was sure he was smirking under those horse teeth he donned. "My Mutt." Joe stated. "Excuse me?" Freyr realed his hand back away from the dress. "You responsibilities will be simple." He began. "You will warm my bed when required, keep my quarters presentable and partake mating whenever requested." He ordered. Freyr face grew red with rage. Freyr stepped back, fists at his side. He shouted. "I am not as naive as you may think!" Freyr held his hands up once more. Joe furrowed his brow, then almost as quickly, he relaxed himself.

Freyr clasped a hand over his mouth as to muffle his moans. He knew Joe loved the sounds he made, but he feared his master would become infuriated if he made anything louder than a gasp. The Immortan has managed two digits into Freyr's tight hole. He had moved his hand from Freyr's back, it now resided under Freyr's ass, squeezing his thigh. Joe curled those thick fingers inside of Freyr, making the smaller man come undone. Too much for Freyr to handle and now becoming completely overstimulated, Freyr hands shot down and held Joe's hand at the wrist, keeping his fingers impaling Freyr's core as he came over his climax.