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The Settlement (Kirsten Graham)

The Settlement by Kirsten Graham


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New author Kirsten Graham shows us a world of the near future, a lawless place where the strongest settlements make their own rules.

The rules just happen to be very well-suited to dominant men and submissive females, is all. Claire and Dave are provisionally accepted at The Settlement, but only if they can adjust to the rather unusual lifestyle

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 1 / 2012

No. words: 52000

Style: Male Dom - M/F, SciFi BDSM/Bondage

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Chapter 1

The man shaded his eyes against the bright afternoon sun. The road was almost two miles away, and shrouded by the edge of the dense forest beyond, but he could see the vehicles. It was too far away to sense any detail though. “Are you sure you heard shots, Number 17?” he asked the girl. “Yes Sir, quite sure. And I think there were two people who ran this way across that open patch. I could not make out anything else.”
“Well, I can’t see anything now, but we had better expect visitors. Go back to the office and warn Mitch and the others.”
“Yes, Sir.”


“Well? Did they follow us?” The speaker was a tall, curvaceous, good looking woman of about twenty seven years of age. She spoke breathlessly, for she had been frantically running until seconds before. Now she sat, panting, in a shallow depression behind a thorn bush. Her companion, a somewhat older, muscular man lay on his stomach, peering around the bush. “I can’t see anything. I think I hit them both anyhow. He glanced thoughtfully at the handgun that lay on the ground at his right hand, and then at his partner. Even in this bedraggled state, she made his heart – and his loins – lift somewhat. She was beautiful. Her lustrous, long, curly, dark brown hair was moist with sweat and plastered against her head, her sundress – black with silver flowers – dusty and crumpled, and those strappy black pumps, ridiculously inappropriate for running across semi-desert, were well on their way to the trash. But you could still drown in the brown depths of her eyes, and her curves were if anything accentuated by the decrepitude of the dress. She smiled: “What now? Back to the truck?”
“I don’t think so. There have to be more of them. It wouldn’t be safe. Besides, the truck is a write-off. I saw some buildings up on the hill behind us there. I think they were a farm. Let’s see if we can get some help.”
Claire – for that was her name, inwardly wondered what anyone would farm out here, and how Dave knew that the buildings weren’t something to do with their attackers, but she did not want to question him. She wanted him to be responsible for their safety, and to be allowed to relax.
It took them the best part of an hour – a worryingly thirsty hour, under the hot sun and with no water, or indeed anything else of any use, apart from the gun, to find the trail. It was just a dirt track leading between the thorns and cacti, up the hill, but it had obviously been used recently, for there were tyre tracks in the dusty earth. They followed them upwards. Soon, the vegetation along the side of the trail grew higher and yielded some shade, to which they kept, grateful for its shelter from the heat and for the camouflage it gave, both from possible followers and the unknown ahead. They kept a few metres to the right of the trail, beneath the leaves.
Finally, they arrived at a fence. A three metre high, chain-link security fence, topped with razor wire and clearly sunk into the ground at its base. It was immediately obvious that it was an impenetrable barrier. They had no choice but to follow it to the left, towards the track. Once there, they could see the gate which allowed the track to pass behind the fence – it was as tall as the fence, reinforced with lengths of steel angle and very securely padlocked. There did not seem to be a bell or any other way of attracting attention. The track disappeared behind the gate, turning a corner between the trees and thus passing out of sight. Further up the hill they could see occasional bare areas and more trees, but there was no sign of non-vegetable life.
“What do you suppose that is?” said Dave, rubbing his foot against a length of metal set in the track. The dust moved to reveal two lengths of grey steel, each about two centimetres wide, with a one centimetre slot between them. They started at a square of concrete about two metres in front of the gate and passed on up the track, under the gate, and away. They were lightly greased, and so not rusty. Claire peered at them. “No idea,” she said. “What shall we do now?”


“Mitch says just welcome them in, Sir,” said the girl, Number 17. She was breathless from hurrying back from the community, but she was enjoying herself. It was good to have some duties away from the main buildings for a change. “There are just the two of them.”
“Yes, well,” answered the man. “Then you stay here out of sight until the gate is shut and locked again.”
“Yes, Sir.” She knelt down in the roadway.
The man, whose name was Steve, was muscular and fair haired, with tanned skin and piercing blue eyes, headed down towards the gate. He squinted against the sun, pulling his bush hat down a little. The back of his khaki shirt was wet with sweat, his shorts dusty from crouching by the side of the track, watching the newcomers. Claire and Dave were now sat side by side, their backs leaning against the gate, looking back down the way they had come. Steve was very quiet, so he was able to get quite close before clearing his throat. Claire and Dave turned, and Dave reached for the handgun.
“I was going to ask if we could help you at all,” said Steve, politely, “but if you shoot me I won’t be able to.”
“Sorry,” said Dave, lowering the weapon. “We need help. Water. Shelter. We were attacked – our truck. The words were garbled.
“We saw some of it,” said Steve. “Throw the gun over the top, and I’ll let you in.”
“It’s all I have!”
“Your call.” Steve made to turn away.
“Here.” Dave shrugged helplessly at Claire and lobbed the pistol over the gate. It landed with a thud a couple of metres behind Steve. The man picked it up, pulled out the magazine, emptied it of its two remaining cartridges and stuck it back. The cartridges went in his shorts pocket and the weapon in his waistband at the back. “Thanks,” he said, and dragging out a bunch of keys, opened the padlock to allow Claire and Dave to enter. “I’m Steve,” said Steve, holding out his had. They shook, mumbling their names. Steve closed and refastened the gate. “Number 17!” he called, “you can come down now.”
Afterward, Dave spent a long time thinking about that moment – or perhaps that period, because it took the woman a minute or two to walk from where she first came into view until she stood by Steve. What was the first thing he noticed? Was it that she was beautiful? That was certainly true: grey eyes, shoulder length blonde hair, a full and curvy figure? Was it that she was in chains? A bright metal collar, about five centimetres high, encircling her neck, a chain padlocked to it, hanging downwards, slender ankles encircled by rings of a similar nature to the collar and linked by forty centimetres of chain, and hands – though he did not see till later – closely cuffed behind her. Or was it that, apart from her chains, she was completely naked?
He was never sure what happened next, but he remembered the surge of fear and someone – probably him – yelling “Run, Claire!” Did he really try to grab the nude girl and fend off Steve? But she did not seem to want to be rescued: she tore free and her knee connected most effectively with his groin, so the blackness that resulted from Steve’s punch was a welcome relief from the pain.


An interesting post-civilization community piece but its very mild SM and awkward attempts to be simultaneously PC and kinky add up to disappointing product. Also, it's bland eroticism and 'romance-novel' level of 'naughtiness' is just out of place at a website primarily devoted to stronger fare. 2 out of 5 (Eljay)

Author Information

Kirsten Graham is a short, blonde Scottish woman who combines her writing with a professional day job and a busy family life. She likes men that like women with a few curves, and she fantasizes about...well, read and see!


Publisher Information

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