Indulgence (89 page)

“Your boots also.”

She unfastened them, the floor cool against her feet, and
she stood in front of the cyborg, completely naked.

“Look at me, female.”

Joan met C899321’s gaze, the heat in his eyes tightening her
nipples. He wanted her, his cock hardening, his breathing growing ragged.

“Raise your arms and widen your stance.”

She did as he ordered. The position lifted her breasts, as
though she offered them to him. It also gave him easy access to her pussy.

Joan was acutely aware of his size, his strength, his arousal.
He could take her, easily overcoming any feeble resistance she made.

The cyborg didn’t move. Instead, he examined her slowly, his
gaze resting for endless moments on her breasts and mons.

“Turn around.”

She obeyed him, allowing him to gaze at her ass. He didn’t
attempt to touch her and, for that, she was grateful. All he did was look, his
perusal as sensual as a caress.

“You aren’t designed like the previous breeding females.”

Her face heated. “I’m not a breeding female. I’m your
engineer.”

“So you continue to tell me.” He grunted. “Then clean me
from the top of my head downward, little engineer.” She approached him. “You’re
too small to reach,” he advised her unnecessarily. “Use the elevation
platform.”

That placed her breasts at his eye level. Joan trembled as
she massaged his scarred scalp with the cleaning cloth, purifying each strand
of hair. It was an intimate act. His long straight locks were decadently soft.
His hot breath wafted over her skin.

“Did they give my little engineer breeding drugs?” His tone
was mocking. “I smell her arousal.” He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring.

“C models were designed to reproduce.” Joan swiped the cloth
over his broad forehead. That skin was also crisscrossed with old scars. How
many times had he been experimented on? “Everything about you, from your
deepened voice to your enhanced pheromones, was modified to maximize your
appeal to females.”

“It appeals to cyborg females.” His lips twisted. “They have
no effect on, other than to frighten, human females.”

“And you’re an expert on human females,” she mumbled,
dabbing the cloth carefully over the more delicate skin around his brilliant
blue eyes. His model number was inked below his right eye. Joan traced the mark
with her fingertips.

“I was forced to breed with twenty-two human females, one
hundred and fifteen cyborg females, before the program was deemed a failure.”
He watched her.

“They forced you to breed with strangers?” Joan stared at
him, horrified.

“If you truly served me, you’d show me respect and call me
sir.”

He was an obstinate cyborg. She suppressed the urge to roll
her eyes. “They forced you to breed with strangers, sir?”

“The breeding didn’t result in offspring.” There was no
emotion in his reply. “A cyborg’s nanocybotics views a fertilized egg as a damaged
egg and repairs it.”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what to say, what to do to make
that right.

He lifted one eyebrow.

“Sir,” she amended.

C899321’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I’ve survived
worse, little engineer. Save your pity for the human females.” He blew over her
nipples, knowing damn well what he was doing to her. “They had to breed with a
primitive cyborg, tolerate my touch. Even with the breeding drugs, they weren’t
as aroused as you are right now.”

She had to get her attraction to him under control. Joan
scrubbed harder, rubbing the cleaning cloth over his grooved cheeks, his
flattened nose, his full sensual lips. “I’m caring for you because this is my
duty, sir.” This reminder was more for herself than for him. “This is what I’ve
trained my entire life to do.”

He opened his mouth. She chattered about nonsense, not
allowing the cyborg to speak, to use that sexy voice of his against her.

As she told him about the agri lot she grew up on, the solar
cycles spent as a ward, the courses she mastered at the Academy, Joan explored
the squareness of his jaw, his compact neck, wide shoulders, sculpted biceps,
pecs, abs. He had lived longer than many humans and had scars that made her
cringe, yet was a prime male specimen, fit, strong, virile.

She progressed downward. “What happened here, sir?” She
touched the dozens of lighter nicks of skin over his stomach, having seen
similar marks on his face and chest. “These are fresh.” They’d occurred more
recently than his scars and had completely healed. “But they’re not battle
wounds.”

He didn’t answer.

She gazed upward. His face was hard, his anger returning.

Joan caressed his hips with the cloth. The nearer she moved
to his cock, the more concentrated the marks became. She paused when she
reached his base. She had cleaned plenty of mock cyborgs at the academy but
this was different. This cock was attached to a real male.

“You’re to clean all of me.” C899321 pushed his hips
forward, thrusting his shaft toward her. “Must I do your job for you, female?”

“No, sir.” Joan jutted her jaw. “I can do this. It’s like
cleaning a female bovine’s teat.” She folded the cloth around him.

“I’m a cyborg, not an animal.”

“We’re all animals, sir.” She stroked him once, twice. His
cock was thick and long and had an interesting ridge. As the blood disappeared,
she realized that the ridge was another scar. “They experimented on your cock?”

“They removed one of my balls.” His voice deepened even
more.

Shit. She cupped his sac, having avoided looking directly at
this private part of him. He was right. One ball had been severed.

“What was the point of that?” Her outrage grew. “They could
have taken a seminal fluid sample without removing a testicle.”

“They wanted to see if the nanocybotics would repair it.”

“A tiny portion would have shown them that.” She no longer
wondered why he was so angry. She wondered why more humans hadn’t died.

Because his torture hadn’t ended with the experiments. His
shaft and sac were also striped with nicks. “Did my predecessor make these
fresh wounds, sir?” Joan caressed him with the cloth. A bead of pre-cum formed
on his tip and she cleaned that too, poking into his slit.

He grunted, not answering her question.

She gazed at his cock. He remained hard. When the bovines
weren’t milked regularly, their teats would swell and crack, and the animals
would then bellow with agony, the sound twisting her heart.

She didn’t want C899321 to endure more pain.

“I could…ummm…finish you, sir.” She couldn’t look at him
while she said this.

“Finish me?”

She waved at his cock. “I could milk you with my hands,
release the tension.”

A long nerve-racking pause followed her embarrassing offer.

She peeked up at him. He stared down at her, his eyes
sparking with emotion.

“Sir?”

He shook his head, his long hair, now dry, brushing against
his broad face. “Finish cleaning me, female. You can milk me like one of your
beloved bovines later,” he promised as though that was a treat he was granting
her.

“My offer benefited you, not me,” Joan muttered.

She glided the cloth over his thighs, knees, shins, catching
the drips on his feet. He then turned and she repeated the process, moving
downward, learning the breadth of his shoulders, the small of his back, the
indents in his ass cheeks.

He couldn’t watch her and that made it easier to clean between
them. The nicks deepened into gouges around his puckered hole.

“He violated you, sir?” That was outside her realm of
understanding. Caring for a cyborg was a trusted duty, one half of a
partnership. “If you hadn’t already terminated him, I would have.”

“He was one of your kind.” The cyborg didn’t believe her.
“You would have joined in or done worse.”

“You don’t know me.” She snapped the cloth, ensuring it had
renewed fully, and cleaned his thighs and calves. “I should report him.”

“He’s dead. What purpose would that serve?”

It wouldn’t serve any purpose, other than embarrass the
engineer’s family. “You should have justice, sir.” She scrubbed his heels.

He turned, pushing her away from him. “I took my own
justice.” He backed into the docking station. His cock remained hard, jutting
from his hairless base. “As I’ll take my own justice when you harm me.”

She shivered, his tone telling her he wouldn’t hesitate to
kill her. “I’d never harm you, sir.” A cleaning bot rolled between her bare
feet, sucking up the spilled blood. Would it be her blood it cleaned in the
future?

“Kneel before me,” the cyborg ordered.

She obeyed, gazing up at him. His eyes blazed, reflecting
lust, triumph, a hint of cruelty. The cyborg enjoyed having her at his mercy.

And she liked following his commands…a little too much.

“Put those agri skills to work and milk me, female.”

“My name is Joan, sir.” If he planned to kill her, he should
know that. She ran her hands over him from base to tip and back again. He was
soft skin over hard metal, ridged with the scar, smooth at his bloomed cock
head, his shaft slick, self-lubricating. “You’re C899321.”

“You’ll call me sir.” He grunted, swaying into her fingers.

“You’re in pain, sir.” This was a kindness, not a sexual
favor, she told herself.

Joan skimmed her fingertips over his solitary ball. He
quivered, unable to hold back his reaction to her touch.

She’d give him relief and he’d feel grateful to her.
Gratitude would lead to trust.

Joan stroked his shaft, formulating a plan.

“That’s it, female. Touch me with those delicate human
hands.” He moved faster against her, animalistic noises coming from his throat,
raw and fierce. “Show me how you can serve me.”

“I will, sir.” She’d show him and he’d decide to keep her,
allow her to live. This hand job could delay her death for a planet rotation or
a solar cycle or permanently.

Joan tightened her grip, increasing the friction, and his
cock bobbed with appreciation. “You’ll never wish for another engineer.”

“I don’t need an engineer.” The skin on his face pulled
tight, his lips flattening. “That’s why I killed the last one.”

No, he killed the engineer because the human hurt him,
tortured him. He wasn’t a bad being. She worked him with everything she had,
with all the experience she’d gathered over the solar cycles, all the passion
in her lonely, neglected heart. Her breasts jiggled with her efforts. Her knees
protested their contact with the hard floor.

It wasn’t enough for him. He covered her hands with his,
guiding her up and down, up and down his shaft, his ball slapping against her
fingers. “Frag.” His voice reached deep inside her. “Frag. Frag.” He sounded
desperate. “Make me come, female.”

She slipped one of her hands away from his, folded her
fingers over his sac and squeezed. He roared, driving his hips forward, pushing
her backward. Cum arced from his tip, splattered on her breasts, and she
screamed with ecstasy, her pussy clenching around nothing.

The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever experienced,
his essence warming, tingling, pinching, a thousand bubbles bursting over her
skin. It was too much, too good.

“Need. Relief.” She reached to wipe his cum off her breasts.

“No.” C899321 caught her wrists, preventing her from
removing his savage branding. She twisted, writhed, whimpering, trying to free herself,
light and sound blurring.

It was several moments before her rational thought returned.

“What was that, sir?” She slumped against his legs, worn out
by pleasure.

“My nanocybotics.” He released her wrists. “They’re
concentrated in my cum and, to a lesser extent, my saliva. Your skin will
absorb them. Until I give you permission to move, stay where you are and don’t
touch them.”

Joan gazed up at him, blinking, her mind numb. He wanted to
mark her.

It was the primitive action of a primitive male.

And she had no objections.

Rage looked down at the tiny human female kneeling by his
feet. Her eyes were closed, her lush curves pressed against his shins, her
breathing level and deep.

Yet her mouth continued to move.

He shook his head. Even sleep didn’t stop her talking, the
flow of words bombarding his processors. She muttered about her beloved agri
lot, her two female siblings, her mother and father and a collection of oddly
named creatures he suspected were bovines.

He’d called her ‘female.’ Her, a human, a member of a
species known for cruelty and torture. Logically, he understood why he’d used
the cherished endearment.

He hadn’t bred with a female for a human’s lifespan and none
of those partners had ever voluntarily touched him. The females had endured the
forced experience, not giving him any more than was necessary. They hadn’t
gazed up at him, brown fire-lit curls framing a round beautiful face, brown
eyes shining with an eagerness to please him. They certainly hadn’t asked to
finish him, their voice husky with passion.

Rage had been weak and she must have known that, used his
breeding-starved state to her advantage. Her little engineer wasn’t the sweet
submissive she pretended to be. She was stronger than most humans, intelligent,
judging from the logic dripping from her pink lips, and the most sensual
creature he’d ever encountered.

She followed his orders because it served her cruel
purposes. There was no doubt in his processors that she intended to hurt him.
She worked for the Humanoid Alliance.

He’d broken too many of their rules.

Any disobedience of a human’s commands was viewed as a
malfunction, a sign that a cyborg was unstable. Unstable cyborgs couldn’t be
controlled. They were deemed dangerous and immediately decommissioned, killed
slowly, painfully.