“Lord Sweden it is then.” Antigua said, bowing her head towards him. “A pleasure to make your lordships acquaintance.”

Sweden eyed her warily. Memories came flooding back to him and he recalled coming across the piles of animal carcasses, his brothers leg and being ambushed by cavers. It occurred to him that he should be dead. Cavers weren’t known for being merciful.

The temperature in the dome was scorching hot and Antigua had stripped out of her body armour. The synthetic material of her under-suit left nothing to the imagination and they both glistened with sweat. Sweden realised that he was incredibly thirsty.

“Water.” He commanded, “Bring me water”

Antigua arched an eyebrow at this and indicated at the domes integrated toilet system.

Sweden climbed off the table, grimacing as his ribs protested at him. He noted the bandages that were wrapped around his chest as well as the plasters that covered his sores.

“You have tended my wounds.” He said flatly, “For this you have my thanks. May I at least have my loin clothe back?”

She moved to the supply closet and rummaged around inside. When she had found a suitable piece of material she turned back to find Sweden bumbling with the water outlet, a scowl of confusion furrowing his brow.

Antigua handed him the clothe and as he fastened it around his waist, concealing his visible arousal. She showed him how to activate the dispenser and filled a container for him which he gratefully accepted.

He drank his fill and handed it back. She took it from him and turned to place it back in to the dispenser. It was the moment he had been waiting for. He stepped forward, took her head and smashed it sidelong into the ceramic wall. The force of the blow cracked the tile and she crumpled to the floor, out cold.

“A woman who doesn’t know her place, no better than a dog.” Sweden said, delivering a vicious kick to her mid-riff, “I’ll break you in like the bitch you are.”