Chapter Seven
Adam
She is elegant in a way I cannot fully describe. The curves of her breasts, her waist, her hips. Women are nature’s finest design. She tries to cover herself with her arms, but I slide them gently back to her sides and hold them there. I need to see her, to imprint this vision in my mind so I need never let it go, so I will always have her with me.
I can sense her fear. She has been frightened for a long time. I have had to hunt her down, trap her, contain her. It is for her own good, but she does not know me as anything other than her creation, a brutal beast composed of the worst parts of man and the best parts of machine.
There is no way for her to know that I would never hurt her. I have hurt many others, and I relished in the hurting too. They caused me pain and in the end their screams satisfied the rage inside me.
I am calmer now than I have ever been. Her nude body, the sweet pheromones she is not even aware of releasing. They rise in soft clouds from her skin and I breathe them in, tasting fear, but more than that, arousal too.
Her pupils dilate when she looks at me. I am the only thing in this room to her. Her gaze has not left me for a single second since we arrived, though I know her curious mind and agile intellect would ordinarily demand that she inspect and understand every inch of this place.
I have her attention, and I intend to keep it. I run the palm of my hand over her belly, sliding the heel of it back toward that little bud of pleasure that can make a woman tremble and scream.
My sexual education was not entirely neglected by Ascent. Seeing a cyborg fuck seemed to amuse my handlers. They showed me explicit material. I was nothing more than a rutting bull for them, a stallion to be trotted out and milked.
They have taken my seed. I do not know what they did with it. I do not know how many monstrosities were destroyed in the fire, but I know I will only create beauty with her. I love this woman, insofar as I can understand love at all. If love is a craving that cannot be sated without the sole object of desire, if it is a yearning that abates when in her presence, and feels like an all-consuming void when she is gone, then I love her with every bit of my being.
“My little captive, my sweet girl,” I murmur, the words coming of their own accord. Some deep primitive programming is at work here. I can feel it. Sometimes the caveman takes control, wielding this cyber-enhanced body like a weapon.
I have no desire to hurt her, but every instinct I have is telling me I need to be inside her, I need to part her thighs and sink inside her tender flesh.
“Adam…” Her voice is soft, shaking just a little.
* * *
Lilly
“You’re mine. Mine…” he growls.
His hands leave my body and go to his chest, his fingers ripping at the shirt, tearing it open to reveal the hard body beneath. Oh. My. God. I feel a rush of arousal between my thighs as I stare at him. I’ve seen him naked before, but never like this. Never rampant above me, his musculature rippling in an otherworldly way. He has the body of a man who spends his life in the gym, though he’ll never have to work out. He is designed for power, and I can see it in every line of his form.
For a very brief moment, I am a scientist again, seeing the technology that created this monster of a man. He is everything I thought he could be, and more. He is a perfect predator, half naked above me, biceps rippling as he pulls the remnants of the shirt from his body.
His eyes burn into mine, gray and blue, a supernova of desire as his hands slide to my thighs and pull them open, pushing his knees between my legs to spread them wide. My pussy is exposed. I feel his eyes down there, looking at the soft curls that cover my sex. What does he think of me? I’ve always been self-conscious about my body, but there’s nowhere to hide from him.
For a very long moment he just looks. I feel my lower lips starting to swell from excitement I can’t help. Being beneath this virile, ardent man is doing things to me, turning switches I didn’t know I had. I am his captive. He is going to mate me.
He leans down, his body covering mine, his hands sliding up to either side of my head as his mouth finds my belly, his kisses flowing all the way up to my breasts. His mouth is hot, his tongue agile around my nipples.
I begin to lose even the notion of resistance as heat spirals through me. His knees are between my spread thighs and I arch my hips, even though there’s nothing to touch. He holds himself above me, his hips still wrapped in denim.
He’s making me want my own ravishment.
A shuffling motion and his pants are gone. I feel a long, hard rod against my stomach and when I look down, I see his cock. It’s huge. I stop and stare. I’ve never seen this part of him before. It was covered in the later stages of his formation, an attempt at professional modesty I thought. Now I realize the design team was hiding a not so little surprise behind that shroud.
I shouldn’t be shocked that a team of male designers wanted their creation to have a large manhood, but they’ve given him a cock unlike any man I have ever seen. It is at least ten inches long, and so thick my thumb and forefinger would have trouble touching around it.
“Oh, my… holy…” I scramble backwards away from it, only to be caught by the throat. His fingers close lightly about my neck, effectively keeping me in place. I stop instantly, prevented from making even the smallest of motions by his powerful grasp. I don’t know that he intends to frighten me, but my heart is hammering now as he pins me there and speaks in soft words.
“Shhhh,” he soothes. “It’s alright.”
“It’s too big, Adam…”
He looks down at himself, and then at me, a brow arched, a half grin on his wildly handsome face. “It’s not too big,” he assures me. “It’s engineered to perfectly stimulate a female.”
“A female horse, maybe.”
He snorts softly. “You will take it, and it will pleasure you.”
These are statements of fact. This is going to happen. I start to squirm in his grasp, my breath coming in short little pants as I panic.
“Easssy,” he soothes again, lowering his face to mine. He captures my mouth in a deep kiss, cutting off the anxious little sounds I’m emitting with his delicious tongue.
He kisses me thoroughly. He kisses me until my head spins and my toes tingle. His hand doesn’t leave its place around my neck, if anything his grip tightens a little as his other hand slides down between my legs and cups my quivering mound.
I am alive as I have never been before. I am frightened as much as I am aroused. I can feel my wetness slicking his fingers as he runs the pads of his tips up and down my slit.
He’s not rough with me. Even though he has me pinned, he’s gentle, sensitive to the tenderness of my pussy. His fingers play with my outer lips first, running up and down the length of my pussy before he trails just one finger softly along the seam of my slit, dragging the moisture of my sex all the way up to the erect little bud of my clit.
Adam’s eyes never leave mine for a second as he toys with me, playing my pussy like an instrument, slipping lower toward the entrance, then back up to circle around my clit. I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter with every pass of his fingers and soon my hips are moving even though I am still held in place.
Soft sounds escape my lips as Adam toys me into the state of arousal he demands. He is in no rush. His fingers keep tenderly stroking my pussy and his lips stay on mine, kissing me, taking my mouth as he will soon take my pussy.
I am desperate with need when he slides a finger into my sex, the hard ridge of his digit spreading my wet inner walls in a slow thrust, testing and teasing me as he pushes it all the way in.
My moan fills the air as he swirls that finger slowly, watching me for my response as his thumb slides up and presses just above my clit. It’s not enough stimulation to send me over the edge, but it’s almost enough and soon my cries are whimpers of need. I reach up to grab the hand at my neck with both my hands, not to pull his away, but to grasp onto him as my hips rise, my body writhing as he takes me toward orgasm with just two of his fingers.
I scream as I come, pleasure rocketing through my body. My knees come up in a reflexive crouch, thighs trembling as he makes me come, two fingers stuffed deep inside my coming pussy.
“Good girl,” he praises, finally letting go of my neck as I lie on the bed, panting and covered in sweat. He’s not even started with me, and I’m already more satisfied than I’ve been with any lover I’ve ever had.
“Open your legs,” he orders. “Keep them wide.”
I do as I am told and he runs the head of his magnificent cock down the length of my pussy. I am traitorously wet and sensitive, and excited chills run through me as he teases my pussy, spreading my inner lips wide around the head of him and then pulling back.
I am about to be fucked by a cyborg. There is no escaping that fact, just like there was no escaping him. Now I am keeping my legs spread for him, helping him to fuck me.
“Reach down and spread your lips with your fingers,” he urges me softly. It is still an order, and one I obey, reaching down to touch my soft, wet pussy, my index and ring finger parting my lips so now when he rubs his cock against me, I feel the head of him right at the tight little hole of my entrance.
He is watching me carefully, my every action and response to his touch. I feel his cock begin to press forward, the head of his glans sliding into the hole nature made for him to take. My wetness makes it easy, and so do my fingers, as the biggest cock I have ever seen begins to stretch my poor pussy hole.
“Easy,” he murmurs as I whimper, the head of his cock already so intensely hot inside me. “Stay still.”
He works the head in and out of me a few times, gentle, slow, almost loving strokes that take the wetness from my orgasm and spread it over the head of his thick cock. Everything Adam does is calculated, right down to the way he is taking my cunt for the first time.
“This is my pussy to take,” he growls softly. “You’re going to hold yourself open for me whenever I say to, and you’re going to take my cock and my cum inside you, understand?”
“Y… yes.” I blush brightly at having to answer the question.
“Good girl,” he praises, pushing his cock in a good three inches. I let out a gasp at the sudden rampant intrusion, splitting my pussy open, making my walls stretch for him.
He surges inside me, his cock branding a path deep inside me. My pussy stretches wide, my outer lips gripping his cock tightly as he works himself inexorably deeper, demanding every little bit of me.
This isn’t lovemaking. And it isn’t fucking. This is breeding.
His cock slides in and out of me in strong strokes, preparing my body for the inevitable hot load of virile cum. He’s breeding me and he won’t stop until I’m pregnant. He’s going to fill me over and over again and again until my belly swells and I give him what he wants.
Adam’s arms slide beneath me, lift me up against his body as he rears up onto his knees. He holds me impaled on his cock, his hands on my hips, lifting me up and sliding me back down, holding me easily aloft.
I am so small compared to him, so little and light. But my pussy grips him with a vigor that matches his superhuman desire. My cunt is squeezing his cock, demanding the cum he so badly wants inside me. Our bodies are doing what they were made to do, mine as much as his. In this moment, I have no more freedom from base biological impulse than any other animal on the planet.
He holds me down on his cock, pumping cum inside me with little grunts and thrusts. I feel the hot liquid sliding out of me, making the space between us a sticky mess of our juices as he continues to plunge himself in and out of me until he can’t anymore.
My pussy is swollen and tender. I ache.
Adam picks me up and carries me through the basement and into a room that really shouldn’t exist: a bathroom. He’s run water through the underground from the streets above, and plumbed it in himself. I can tell by how simultaneously rough and smooth the pipework is.
The bath isn’t so much a bath as it is an oversized industrial boiler, cut in half and filled to the brim with water that steams gently.
He lowers me into the bath, which is at a perfect temperature, just warm enough to feel hot, not so hot I feel ill. I slide beneath the surface with a soft sigh, surrendering to the moment.
This is the last thing I expected to experience today. All of this is so wildly unexpected. I knew Adam would find me, but I never thought this would be the outcome. The best sex of my life and a bath.
It takes some time to gather my thoughts. Adam gets into the bath too, his long legs extending outside mine as we face one another.
“Breathe,” he says, his voice resonant and soft.
“I am.”
“You were holding your breath. You’re waiting for something bad to happen. You’re safe here. I’ve set up several perimeters of defense. They don’t know where we are.”
They don’t know where we are, and that means there’s no chance of rescue—if I even want to be rescued. I don’t know anymore. The impulse toward freedom is strong. I don’t want to be in this city. I don’t want to be in this country. I want to be so far away nobody will ever find me.
He says it’s safe here, but my instincts tell me it isn’t. They’ve seen Adam’s capabilities, and they’re not going to let it go lightly. They want us badly, and they have ways and means of finding people they want to find. Thermal imaging, for a start, satellites that will likely pick up the trail Adam left with me once they find the place where I was taken.
I don’t know what to think of him, or what to say. He has taken me so completely that I am sure no man will ever make such an impression on me again, and yet, I am still his captive love slave, the vessel of his seed.
As my mind clears, the natural outrage begins to grow. “You know, you can’t do this,” I say as the water laps around my breasts, and my sore pussy tingles with the light currents beneath.
“Can’t do what?”
“Can’t hold me here, can’t make me have your baby, can’t… can’t do anything you’re doing.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it’s not right, for one,” I try to explain. “There are laws.”
“Laws that do not even acknowledge me as a man,” he says. “Why should I care about laws?”
“Because, I…” I trail off.
“You made me. You will sate my desires. You will give me what I want.”
His eyes darken a shade. He does not want to be argued with, but he will listen to what I say.
“You can physically take what you like from me. I can’t stop you. But I can hate you for it.”
He looks at me with those eyes that are far too wise for a creature who has not been long on this earth and shakes his head, the length of his dark hair catching the water.
“You didn’t hate what we did,” he says, his tone calm. “You enjoyed every moment of it. Your body was joined with mine. We shared our fluids and our pleasure. We are bonded now, and you are mine.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“That is exactly how it works,” he says. “I studied the human female sexual and mating response in depth through thousands of studies in various databases. Women all respond to…”
“First of all,” I say, splashing water toward his arrogant face. “There’s no such thing as ‘all women’; everyone is different.”
“All women breathe oxygen,” he counters. “And all women need to be fucked and owned.”
I narrow my eyes at him as I realize he doesn’t actually know me. He knows what I should be, and he treated me as such. But to him, I am not an individual with distinctive traits. I am the woman he wants to own and nothing more.
I can’t believe I let myself think that there was something real here. There’s not. He imprinted on me like a baby duck who wants to fuck me. That’s the only reason he wants me. If another lab tech had been the one to wake him, he’d probably be boning her right now.
I feel betrayed, even though I shouldn’t. I was mad to think that he had some properly developed sense of desire or love. It’s all programming. Underneath all that handsome muscle and those compellingly near perfectly symmetrical features, he’s like a computer. He’s not capable of falling in love with me like a real human man would.
I can’t blame him for picking up the misogynistic bullshit they no doubt drummed into his head. I can’t blame him for anything, because he’s not a person. He’s a walking talking meat rock.
“You’re upset. You need to eat.”
He rises from the bath, leaving me in the flow of warm water, which is reticulating through the bath and returning through an outflow to be heated again.
Adam has no small measure of engineering skill. He wasn’t designed to be a builder, but then again, he wasn’t designed to be a lean mean fucking machine, and he’s certainly that.
It’s strange, feeling angry, hurt, and simultaneously proud. Adam is a triumph, a work of wonder. He’s also a relentless sexist who believes he has complete rights to my body and womb.
The bath’s warm waters keep me from slipping into panic and anger. I am comfortable, and my body is relaxed—not just because of the bath, but because of the orgasm that tore every bit of feeling from me and gave me release.
I need to escape. I can’t begin to think Adam only has one exit from this place. That’s a recipe for disaster. All I have to do is find one of his other exits and I can get out of here. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t at least two other ways out. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t a way out of this very room.
Casting my eyes around the room, I see some grilles along the lower part of the wall. One of them is where the water pipes go in and out, but some of the others don’t seem to be in the same kind of use. I doubt he’s left that obvious of an escape though.
I cast my eyes up to the ceiling. This is a basement; that means the ceiling is the library floor. If I could pry some of the boards up, I could probably crawl up through there.
The biggest immediate problem is my nudity. Adam ripped my clothing apart and I have nothing to wear. I’ll be taken into custody in seconds if I try running around the city naked.
“Come,” he says. “I have food.”
“I need clothes.”
“There are many clothes. Come.” He throws a towel at me. I catch it, wrap it around myself, and drip my way after him. What does he mean, many clothes?
“Here,” he says, opening a closet in the main room. I didn’t notice it at first because there are so many strange and eclectic objects. The place is like a cross between a high-end laboratory and a secondhand store.
Rows of clothes greet my gaze. He’s right. There’s a lot to wear, but none of it is really anything I’d wear, because almost all of it appears to be various kinds of costuming. I reach in and take down a silky golden dress cut in an imperial Victorian style. There’s a label on the hanger. Period Pieces Costumiers, it reads.
“Where did you get these?”
“I found it in the back,” he says. “You don’t like them?”
“They’re not clothes, they’re costumes.”
“What’s the difference?”
“These are clothes you wear when you’re pretending to be someone else.”
“That’s what we need to do,” he says. “We need to become other people.”
“Well, this will make me Queen Victoria,” I point out. “It’s not exactly inconspicuous.”
“Then choose a simpler one.”
In the end I find myself sitting across from a shirtless cyborg, eating a spam sandwich, and wearing what can only be described as a pirate costume, complete with long jacket and breeches.
“You should wear a dress,” he says. “That I can throw up when I take you and it will not be harmed. Those pants will be torn soon enough.”
“You wear a dress,” I growl back.
“Maybe I should,” he considers. “Then we will both have access to our genitals as needed.”
I smirk into my sandwich. If I can get to see this muscular behemoth of a creature in a Little Bo Peep skirt, I might actually die happy. A small, silly victory perhaps, but that’s all I’m left with. “You know clothes can just be taken off. They don’t have to be torn off.”
“I like ripping them off you. I like baring your flesh to my eyes,” he says. “I have wanted you for so long, Lilly. I want to see your body. Open your top. Let me see your breasts.”
I chew my food rebelliously and ignore his order.
“Lilly…” he growls softly. “I told you to do something.”
“Yeah, so? You don’t own me.”
“Wrong,” he growls, closing the space between us in a second. His large hands grab at my shirt and yank it open, baring my breasts and stomach to his gaze. He retreats to his seat, leaving me sitting there, stunned.
The sandwich is propelled across the air, directly into his smug face. I have a brief moment of satisfaction as the spam smushes against his nose and mouth, then slides down to land in his lap.
I pull the edges of my pirate vest back over my breasts and look at him with a triumphant stare. “You don’t own me, Adam.”
His brows draw down over his supernova eyes and he stands up, slowly this time. “I own you,” he growls. “I claimed you. I spilled my seed inside you. I marked you as mine.”
“You fucked me. So what. I’ve had sex before. Those other men don’t own me.”
“You’ve had sex before.” He says the words as if they hadn’t occurred to him. There’s that naivety again, a gap in his comprehension of the world.