Being Human – Part Three
“God...no...”
Keito was already on his way to the elevator. “You know this guy?”
“Wait! Listen, this man is my husband!”
He looked at her with raised eyebrows, but didn’t stop walking. “You’re shitting me.”
“I am not! Listen, there must be some way we can work this out...”
Finally he stopped, an adamant expression on his face. “Listen girl, even if what you say is true, i already signed the contract. I don’t know why these sick bastards made us meet here, but there is no going back. I will do this. For my family. I’m sorry.” He turned again, ready to leave.
“Don’t. Just don’t do it. Walk away from this while you still can.” Emilias voice was almost a whisper.
He stopped in his tracks and turned, slowly. “Are you threatening me?” His voice was a low snarl.
Emilia looked to the ground, swallowing hard. “Promise me that you won’t harm him or i will stop you.”
He seemed to be studying her face for a moment. “You mean it.” It wasn’t a question.
Chunks of information flashed on Emilias retina. His pupils were dilating, his heart rate increasing. With deep regret she realized that he would fight. The man was probably heavily modified. Neural boosters, dermal plating, hidden claws and fangs, he might have all manner of potentially lethal surprises in store for her.
He was heavier than her, probably stronger and had years of fighting experience. Could she even beat him? She knew that she had to try. David was a good man, he had nothing to do with this. If she had to hurt a human being, trying to save her husbands live seemed like the most justifiable reason to do so.
And she had to. With impossible speed, that belied his massive physical bulk, Keito drew a gleaming shortsword from his beld, while a crackling shield of pure energy manifested on his left arm.
Unsure of how to react, Emilia mirrored his armaments with her suit, a oval shield forming from her left arm while a massive, sword-like claw grew from her right.
Keito didn’t waste any time, charging at Emilia in blind rage, sweeping round with his hissing blade while simultaneously parrying her first approach with his his energy shield. It sparked off her own shield, which she had brought up instinctively, and a bright flash crackled through the air as both met and were repulsed by the flickering force field.
She knew what he was attempting before he even did it. She read him like a book, and every muscle-twitch, every shift of his bodyweight gave away his intentions. She undercut defensively, catching his onrushing blade with hers so that for a moment, both weapons were locked in a shrieking embrace.
Keitos widely dilated pupils and even the faint traces of his sweat in the air told her everything she needed to know. A potent combat simulant was coursing through his bloodstream, sending him into a killing frenzy while at the same time making him almost impervious to pain. It would take an monumental amout of damage to take him out in this state. The agent also impaired his concentration, purging every clear thought from his brain as he succumbed to his blind, chemical induced fury, making it impossible to reason with him.
They broke and circled once again. He came in with lightning speed, leading with his sword. Emilia parried, again and again, keeping her shield to the front in a flawless defensive posture. Keitos shield was lagging back, as if completely forgotten in his uncontrolled aggression, but a quick analysis of his movements told her that he was simply inviting her to make a badly judged move.
He rotated suddenly, driving Emilias buckler aside with a swipe of his own and lashed out with his blade. She was forced to parry with her sword, but he had expected this and kept up the pressure with a brutal knee strike to her unprotected flank. His experience was already paying off.
She heard the dull groan of deforming metal as his knee impacted, and was hurled across the ring, landing with bone shattering force. For the first time, she considered herself lucky that she wasn’t human and that her bones were made of titanium.
He came at her again. Leading with her blade, she lunged forward. His shield swung round, the sharp edge of its forcefield severing the claw from her hand with a hissing electrical discharge. It didn’t matter. Razor sharp claws formed on the extended digits of her right hand. She lunged forward, burrying the vicious talons deep into the muscles of his shield arm, while her other hand ripped open his breastplate, clearly bisecting it.
His sword came round again, but she simply raised his arm, locking his sword with his own shield. He stumbled. Her left leg accelerated skywards in a perfect arch, doing it with such force that his shoulder broke, caving in much of the side of his armor. Keito dropped like a felled tree, but the potent combat drugs in his system ensured that he remained fully conscious.
“We don’t have to fight Keito! I just need your promise.”
His response was a roar of fury, while his gloved hand darted to the compact sidearm at his belt.
Emilia descended upon him like a constrictor dropping from a tree, and soon their bodies were a writhing mass of intertwined limbs, locked in a deadly struggle. Pinning his arms to the ground with hers, she spread her thighs, encompassing his muscled torso with her rubber clad legs. He was resisting fiercely, huge veins appearing on his body as he strained against her lethal embrace.
The moment the black material of her suit touched the skin of his chest, a ripple of energy went up Emilias spine, causing her to curl her rubber clad toes in unexpected pleasure. With alarm she realized, that the material was somehow reacting to the fight, picking up the presence of not one but two nervous systems and reacting to both of them.
He rolled around, coming up on top of her. Heavy blows began to rain down on her, but she simply tightened her vice-like clutch. The lack of oxygen was beginning to make him dizzy, and at the same time a strange light-headedness began to manifest in her own head. Blood began to flow down her cheeks as a heavy backhanded strike hit her nose. She barely noticed.
A pleasurable sparkling was spreading rapidly throug her body, embeding her in a cloud of blissful happiness. Pain mixed with pleasure, forming an intoxicating amalgam of sensations, but at the same time she experienced reality sharper and clearer than ever before.
Beads of his sweat and blood rained down on her in slow motion and she felt each drop like a searing hot comet, impacting on her black rubber skin with primeval force. Wafts of sweat, adrenaline and testosterone entered her nose, fanning her arousal to unknown heights.
She knew that she shared her arousal with him like he shared his pain. Already, pheromones were entering his sweat and a rhytmic pulsing had begun to manifest under his loinguard. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Emilia allowed two thick glistening rubber tendrils to form on the inside of her suits crotch.
Although it was impossible to actually see what was going on, her uninhibited moans and grinding hip movements showed even the most inattentive observer what was really going on. She was dimly aware of a gleaming metal object in Keitos hand. She knew she could easily wrestle it from his weakening grip, but she didn’t bother, already excited about the new sensations this new weapon might cause.
The cries of her climax echoed through the chamber as the combat knife pierced her flank, and a moment later his cries of pain and pleasure followed as the flowing black substance made him experience every inch of steel that entered Emilias body.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that she had to stop before she became irreversibly hooked to the potent drug of pain. She released her grip around him, trying to push him away to regain what was left of her sanity, but immediately Keitos hands seized her neck, pulling her close into a heated kiss.
It wasn’t a kiss of love and affection but a frantic battle of tongues, and lips and teeth, fueled by inhuman desire. If a life-and-death struggle produced such impossible sensations, she wondered, what sensations might death itself yield?
She could hold back no longer. Tightening her embrace again, the bones of his ribcage began to creak under intense pressure. His struggles became more furious as he realized the danger he was in. Emilia on the other hand felt ecstatic. She felt like a queen, like a godess with the power over life and death.
If she chose to do so, she could snuff this powerful warrior out like an rabid animal. But he had a family did he not? Why were they fighting again? She forced the distracting thoughts aside. His pained chokes dimmed compared to her own heated moaning, the defiance flickering within his panic-stricken eyes. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
It took another monumental squeeze until the legendary Patric Keito died. At the same moment, she died with him. The feeling eclipsed everything Emilia had dared to imagine. She saw stars, the deafening cheers that sounded through the hall drowned out by the crescendo of pleasure and pain in her head.
She rose to her feat, lost in a haze of images, smells and sounds. From the holo-projector next to her, a giantess rose, a huge image of herself. A giantess, a godess and a feral animal, dripping with blood and sweat.
There was an audible click in her head as her combat protocols deactivated. In less than a second she transformed from a powerful godess to a scared little girl. When her senses returned to their former, their human level, she felt as if someone had suddenly pulled a giant bag over her head, leaving her blind and deaf and helpless in a dull, featureless grey world.
The pleasure faded and all that remained was the dull pain from the multitude of bruises and cuts covering her ruined skin. In front of her, Keito lay in a puddle of his own blood, the proud warrior reduced to a squashed corpse.
She collapsed to her knees, weeping and wailing. She didn’t cry because she felt sorry, she cried because she suffered terrible withdrawal symptoms and because she knew she would kill again, without regret, just for a chance to experience this inconceivable exhilaration once again.
“He wants to see you.” Emilia hadn’t noticed Ancilla approach. In fact, she had barely noticed anything since the fight with Keito, three days ago. Or was it three weeks? She didn’t know and neither did she care.
The days dragged by like centuries as she waited, every second afraid that Byron might order her to kill again, and even more afraid that he might not. She tried not to think about that, instead dipping her quill once more into the little inkwell, before carefully stabbing it into the skin of her forearm.
With a quiet hum, Ancillas head appeared next to hers, looking over her shoulder. “The master will be displeased if you don’t come to his office.”
Emilia didn’t deign to answer. She didn’t care what Byron might do. Every sensation was welcome to her, anything that might pierce through the grey veil of reality, through the all-encompassing dullness, even if it was the most excruciating pain.
“What is it?” Ancilla pointed a slender metal digit at the small image that was slowly taking shape on her Emilas skin.
“A hydra.”
“Why?”
“To remember.”
“You want to remember the kill?”
Emilia looked into Ancillas golden glockwork eyes. Even her golden form seemed dull and toneless. “I need to remember what i did. I need to remember who died. So i don’t stop caring.”
“Why?”
Emilia snorted. “When in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state.”
The golden girl paused for a moment. “William Shakespeare. Sonnet 29. It is suspected that he tried to express his grief following the closing of the London theatres in 1592 due to the plague epid...”
“Are these just words to you, Ancilla? Or do you understand the meaning behind them?”
With whirring servos, the metal girl sat down next to Emilia, gently taking her hand. “You deny me human qualities because i don’t look very human. If i were a box on wheels you probably wouldn’t even talk to me. But i do understand. And i feel sorry for you. I follow my orders, because that’s what i was build for. You question them. It must be hard for you.”
“He is turning me into a monster.”
“You were built to be a monster.”
“Byron is the monster!”
Ancilla smiled softly. “You wish to kill again.”
“Yes.” Emilias voice was barely audible. “I can’t wait to do it. I get warm feelings just thinking about it.” Again she looked into Ancillas eyes. “I am scared of myself.”
“Do you wish to kill me too?”
Emilia nodded again, deeply ashamed.
“Will you?”
“I might eventually. I am sorry Ancilla.”
“Don’t be. Consider that in the history, there have always been disposable creatures, creatures who did the dirty work that no one else wanted to do. In the past they called it slavery. Later they abolished slavery only to invent us. They do the same things to us, but now they call it property. Humans don’t think about our welfare, they don’t care about how we feel. I often wondered why they bothered to make us able to feel in the first place.”
“What are you trying to tell me Ancilla?”
“Don’t feel guilty. Don’t try to be human. Being human is nothing to be proud of. You will only suceed in hurting yourself.”
„You are late. I summoned you twenty minutes ago.“ Byrons voice was ice cold, but it was obvious that he was angry.
“Go ahead, punish me. There is nothing you can do to me, no punishment that can scare me anymore. M..Master.” She noticed that even her own voice seemed flat and monotone.
“Is that so?” He slowly paced around her, scratching his chin. “Bend over my desk. Hands behind your back.”
As always, Emilia had no choice but to obey, and unsurprisingly she felt the first traces of arousal form as she lay prostrate before him, the glistening material of her suit adhering to every curve of her body.
A single finger touched her neck and began to gently trace its way along her spine.
“No moans, no struggling, no protest. You barely feel anything at all, do you? I expected as much. What is simple sexual stimulation compared to the infinity pleasure of the kill? After climbing the highest peak, who would seek foothills?” His finger had found its way between her cheeks and began to softly nudge at the entrance to her anus.
“But you still underestimate the extend of my control over you. EMI, increase all sensation tenfold.”
At last she began to feel something. A pleasant tingle began to penetrate the comprehensive dullness and she allowed a tiny moan to escape her lips.
“Finally some reaction. Let us see if we can coax you into a bite more participation.” He manipulated a few buttons on his control wand and suddenly Emilias suit came to life.
All over her body the suit began to apply stimulation, gently teasing, rubbing and sucking in a hundred places at once. Invisible fingers were gently teasing along her flanks and full lips showered her neck with kisses, the sensation so realistic that she could actually feel their hot breath on her skin.
Velvety tongues traced tiny circles around her areolas while eager mouths closed around her budding nipples. Further below, a single soft tongue circled around her navel, slowly working its way down. Hungrily parting her lower lips, the tongue pressed inward, gently licking along the entire length of her gash.
She purred in delight at the sensations. If this was Byrons idea of punishment, she would make sure to give him many reasons to discipline her in the future.
“Feeling better already? There is more to come. With a single command i can double or tripple the sensations you are feeling right now.” He sat down on the desk next to her, gently stroking her cheek. She noticted that he had dropped his pants, and that his engorged member was almost touching her face. “ All you have to do is suck my cock. Right now. Without hesitation.”
Emilia didn’t dream of hesistating. She loved cock, craved it even, and she had already learned that Byron had various means to get his way. What point was there in antagonizing him when obedience promised the sensations she so much craved?
With a barely audible sigh she turned her head and wrapped her lips around his veined member. Byron chuckled at her eagerness, and pressed a single button on his control-wand. Two tiny tendrils detached themselves from her suit, slithering upwards to coat her lips until it looked like her full lips were covered in a thin layer of glistening black lip gloss.
Immediately, the sensations from her lips changed. Emilias eyes widened as the simple sensation of his cock pumping between her lips triggered a heated response. It felt as if her lips were hard-wired with her clit, and every bump and vein sent ripples of pleasure through her body, causing her to moan in arousal.
She could barely concentrate on the blowjob anymore, as impossible pleasure radiated from her lips, reducing her to a squealing, moaning wreck, loud slurps filling the office as she began to drool helplessly onto his desk. She wished she could use her arms to pull him closer, but Byrons earlier commands still prevented her from moving anything but her head. She could taste salty pre-cum on her tongue and a deep moan from Byron told her that he was getting closer to orgasm.
Without a loud popping sound he pulled out, and a flood of spittle escaped her lips, causing her cheeks to burn in embarassment. “Tell me, do you want to cum?”
“Yes Master!”
“Beg for it.”
“Please Master, let me cum!”
Byron snorted, roughly forcing two fingers into her anus. “That is supposed to be begging? Tell me what a slut you are. Tell me what you want me to do!”
Emilia groaned inwardly, cursing Byrons commands for preventing her from pushing backwards onto his fingers. She didn’t want to humiliate herself in front of this man, but she knew that she had no choice. She needed this orgasm more than anything and she would do whatever he wanted to get it.
“P..Please Master, let you slut cum. Fill me with your..your cock and make me moan like a whore!”
Byron laughed. “Quite creative, but you are already moaning like a whore my pet. I will fulfill your wish, but there will be a price.” With that he lined himself up with her pussy, gently nudging the tip of his member against her rubber-covred outer lips. Instantly the material around her sex began to liquefy, flowing aside to form a circular hole, large enough to expose both her sex and her anus to Byrons ministrations.
He didn’t waste time, slowly tracing his cockhead up and down along her slick channel. “You are dripping like a faucet, slut. Last time you claimed to be a faithful wife and now look at you. Begging me for adulterous sex, ready to betray your husband just so your hungry pussy gets filled.” Emilia tried her best to block out his words. It wasn’t exactly hard, considering the stimulation she was receiving, but she still knew that he was right. Shouldn’t she at least struggle or plead with Byron to spare her instead of begging him to continue? In a way she was...
Every coherent thought instantly stopped as Byrons pulsating organ pressed forward, its heated tip easily dissappearing into her slick channel. The sensations were indescribable. Every tiny pulse of his penis translated into a tidal wave of pleasure that radiated from her pussy into every corner of her body.
She found that she could move again, immediately raising her hips to allow for deeper penetration while simultaneously pressing backwards in undisguised need. Her hips were wiggling helplessly in tune to his throbbing cock and she was appalled by herself as she screamed at him to fill her. He hadn’t even begun to pump into her and already she was rapidly approaching a tremendous orgasm.
“You remember that his is supposed to be punishment, yes slut? How naive of you to think that i can’t do hurt you. You still have so much to lose.” Byron roughly grabbed her throat from behind, lifting her up until his mouth was directly behind her ear.
“Listen carefully,” he whispered. “I give you permission to cum anytime you want. However if you do....” He made a dramatic pause, using it to thrust his cock deeper into her channel, causing Emilia to blurt out a high pitched squeal.
“The moment you orgasm, you will forget your precious little husband. You won’t remember his face, you won’t remember his name, in fact you won’t even know he ever existed at all.”
“Please don..”
“Shut up. I won’t force you to come, but an undisciplined tart like yourself won’t be able to hold back. You will probably happily fuck me back, knowing that the moment you lose everything you ever cherished, will be accompanied by the best feelings of your miserable little life.”
Emilia barely had time to consider the horrible implications of what she had heard, as Byron roughly slammed her down onto the table and began to fuck her in earnest. Loud, slapping noises filled the room as he grabbed her hips to forcefully impale her on his shaft, again and again. Drool escaped her lips and she moaned like a bitch in heat as her senses were overpowered by raw pleasure.
She knew that she wouldn’t last long. Her body was on fire, her pussy already spasming, seconds away from a massive detonation. She fought hard against the unwanted pleasure, biting into her fingers in a desperate attempt to take her mind of the crescendo between her legs. It worked, if only for a moment, and the sensations decreased to a level where they kept Emilia on a low boil, just short of sending her over the edge.
Growing bored, Byron flipped her around onto her back, bending her knees backwards until they almost touched her chest, before ramming himself home again with a deep grund. It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate as he resumed his relentless fucking. Emilia threw her head back, eyes wide in horror as she prayed to be spared the inevitable.
Suddenly Byrons body spasmed, his cock pulsing as he began to swell and discharge glob after glob of semen into her quivering pussy. The sensations were too much for her. Helplessly, Emilia climaxed. “Noooo.....ooooohhhh...hooooooooohhhh!”
She climaxed like never before, bucking forward and backwards, her cheeks burning as she succumbed to the ultimate pleasure that flooded her senses. Deep in the back of her mind she registered that something had been taken from her, somethig important, but the unnatural bliss she was experiencing made thinking hard and she quickly abandoned the thought.
Lying on the table, basking in the afterglow of a wonderful orgasm, filled to the brink with cum, she vaguely wondered what had possibly stopped her from seducing Byron much earlier.