UNIT 78_RESCUED Page 4

  He concentrated on the two in the middle of the group, surrounded by the others like the petals of a flower. Hank Ayers—now Father Tr’Ayer—he recognized instantly, but the woman took a little more tracking down within the data-packets Peirce had given him. Yancy Burrows. A farm-colonist from the failed Jenas Four colony, she appeared to have fallen in with the Tr’Low cult shortly afterward. And… he was forced to use his metal half to control his reactions as he read her file… she’d even given her teenage daughter over to the cult.

  Terissa Burrows’ body had been found three years ago. An autopsy had revealed her system had simply given out under the weight of the breeding drugs and multiple pregnancies. She’d been thrown away, like a dog in a puppy mill who could no longer produce.

  Rich kept his expressions machine perfect and hard as he stepped through the airlock door and descended the short ramp onto the runway. Tr’Ayer and Yancy would pay for what they’d done… if it was the last thing he did.

  A ripple of excitement and awe washed through the welcoming committee, some of the nuns even breaking off their soft chanting as he walked toward them. He was making no effort to move like a human, letting his cyborg half have the lead. Each step of his metal feet raised small dust clouds off the perma-crete. If he’d wanted to, he could have cracked it, leaving a permanent mark of his arrival.

  “You are Tr’Ayer.” He leveled his gaze at the Tr’Low priest, amused to find that while he towered over the others assembled, he was still an inch or so shorter than Rich himself. “I am Unit 78, the metal man called here by your prophecy. Your god has demanded my presence here.”

  Okay… so claiming he was in touch with their god was pushing it a little far, but Rich really didn’t care. These assholes gave him the creeps and the thought of delicate little Kyrin Pierce in their clutches ate away at something deep inside him. Something that should have been long dead, killed in the mine attack that had given him a second life made of metal.

  “Tr’Low has spoken. Praise be! Welcome to Breeder One!” Yancy exclaimed, her face wreathed in smiles as she welcomed him with open arms. For a moment Rich thought she would actually embrace him but instead she quailed at the last moment and simply dropped a flower garland around his neck. Pink and white flowers… it went so well with his implants.

  He ignored the garland, watching the two impassively. Yancy turned to Tr’Ayer.

  “Isn’t it amazing, father? First the queen and now the metal man… our prayers really have been answered, and the days of the prophesy are at hand.”

  “Hmmm…” Father Tr’Ayer didn’t seem so convinced, studying Rich with a speculative eye. “He’s a cyborg—the Space Corps have many of them. How do we know this is the metal man of our prophesy?”

  Rich cocked an eyebrow, adding a slight quirk to his lips. “Are you questioning the will of Tr’Low? He spoke to me. Ordered me to leave my unit and travel here where you have a female in need of breeding.”

  All eyes in the group swiveled to Tr’Ayer, who seemed like he was going to argue for a moment.

  “Look at him, Father!” Yancy hissed in an undertone. “He’s perfectly half man, half machine.”

  “Forty-nine point nine nine percent machine to man,” Rich confirmed in a dry voice. He wasn’t lying. He was almost more machine than man.

  “See?” Yancy rounded on the priest with a wide smile. “How could he not be the metal man in the prophesy given to you by Tr’Low himself? The queen is intended for him, not you. Of course,” she added quickly, “there are many other fertile females who would be blessed to be bred by the great Father Tr’Ayer himself!”

  Ahhh… that’s where the rub lay. Rich hid his grin as Tr’Ayer turned a shade of scarlet. The good father had intended to breed the Pierce girl himself. Randy fucker.

  “Of course, Sister Yancy. We are blessed indeed. Praise be to Tr’Low.” Father Tr’Ayer smiled, but it was obviously forced. “I do have matters to attend to… holy books to consult regarding the upcoming breeding ceremonies, so if I can leave you to show our honored guest around and get him settled in?”

  “Of course, Father,” she inclined her head, her hands folded over her mid-section in what looked like a ritual response. “I would be delighted.”

  Tr’Ayer muttered a farewell, shooting Rich a hard look before stalking off across the landing strip. The black robes flapped around his sparse frame and his shock of silver hair made him look like a mad school professor from Old Earth. Unfortunately, he wasn’t anything quite so benign.

  Putting the priest out of his mind for now, Rich turned toward the nun in front of him. “Lead the way.”

  An hour later, disgust ran through every part of Rich’s body. He’d thought he’d been prepared for what he would likely face in the Tr’Low breeding compound.

  He’d been mistaken. Vastly mistaken.

  First Yancy had taken him to the labs, the pair looking through glass windows as nuns in white protective suits mixed the different chemicals into the drugs they used to turn their breeding males and females into mindless rutting machines.

  “We can’t risk the enlightened coming into contact with the breeding drugs,” she’d explained. “They’re not genetically pure. We can’t have them breeding as well.”

  “Oh?” He’d found himself asking, knowing he shouldn’t but not being able to stop himself. Would they meet the same fact as Yancy’s own daughter? Discarded like trash once their offspring were born? “Why? Surely offspring are offspring… all as capable of spreading Tr’Low’s breeding wisdom?”

  She’d given him a patronizing smile, as though he were a child who couldn’t possibly understand the complex issues she was speaking of. “Of course, all are technically capable of spreading Tr’Low’s word, but… we wish to breed only the best and most pure of children. We ensure all breeding males and females are of the purest genetic stock. All those produced by substandard stock are culled at birth, usually before, if the female is of pure stock… to free her womb up for a sacred child.”

  She’d said it in such a matter-of-fact and cold manner, like she was talking about disposing of clinical waste, that he’d been reeling internally through the rest of the tour. They’d walked through the breeding females’ dormitories, guarded by eunuchs and nuns robed like Yancy.

  He’d looked at the eunuchs and kept his wince to himself. It was all well and good to emasculate a man, but to make him wear open-crotch pants that revealed that mutilation to the world was a step beyond cruelty.

  “They’re here to ensure the safety and sanctity of our breeding females,” the nun explained at Rich’s raised eyebrow as they moved beyond the dormitory into a series of corridors. “From the breeding males.”

  She nodded toward an alcove a little further down the corridor. The sounds of hard and fast sex reached Rich’s ears, and as they approached he could see one of the breeding males had a smaller female pinned beneath him. Fucking was not the word for what they were doing. The male rammed his cock into his female partner so hard and fast that Rich was surprised she didn’t cry out in pain. Instead, she mewled and begged for more, shoving her ass back at the male as though she couldn’t get enough. Both their eyes were glassy and blank, cloudy with the drugs in their systems.

  “Occasionally one of the females manages to get loose,” Yancy said, her tone almost bored. “We’ll analyze the resultant fetus and if it’s a good genetic fit, we’ll allow her to carry to term. If not, she will be purged and rebred to a better male.”

  He felt sick. Then determined. One day he was going to throttle Sister Yancy with his bare hands.

  “Most males tend to congregate around the sensitivity training areas. We encourage them to watch. It adds an extra boost to the breeding compound and ensures they are ready to breed when the ceremonies are held.”

  She nodded to a few males that appeared to be loitering at a junction up ahead. The walls of the corridors fell away, replaced by security force fields. They were rooms, he realized as they approached. Two
of the men were looking into one of them, their gazes intent. Not eunuchs even though they wore the same outfit. These males were whole. Aggressively so. Both had their cocks in their hands, stroking lazily as they watched whatever was going on in the room.

  They drew level and Yancy beamed. “Now, this is our prize breeding female. Our queen.”

  Rich turned to look into the room and froze. It was like a scene out of an erotic horror holo-vid. A large chair dominated the center of the room, a woman strapped into it. She was all but naked, a silver robe hanging from her shoulders, open to reveal everything about her tiny, curvaceous figure. She lay back in the chair, her legs parted and lying in stirrups like an old style birthing table. Clear plastic cups attached to hoses were attached to the peak of each full breast, and a similar device covered her pussy. As he watched, the black tubes moved, pumping… no, sucking… rhythmically. She moaned and stirred fitfully, her hips moving in a distracted way as though seeking something.

  To his shame, arousal hit him hard and fast. He crushed it, refusing to allow his body to react. It was her, he told himself—the acres of creamy skin and the soft sounds escaping her lips, the undulation of her hips—that he was responding to, not the erotic-horror-bdsm thing they had her strapped to.

  “Yes…” Sister Yancy breathed in delight. “She is almost ready. Look… she senses your presence, man of metal.”

  As she spoke the woman on the bed turned her head, her eyes opening, and Rich stared in shock. It was Kyrin Pierce, her eyes clouded with the breeding drugs. Shit. What had they done to the poor girl?

  “She’s in pain,” he managed to bite out, only to have Yancy nod furiously.

  “Yes… yes, she is. And she will remain so until she is filled with your shaft, pumping seed into her to create our savior. Even now her body quickens. She is so close to producing nectar and then we can arrange the breeding ceremony. Come… come…”

  She ushered Rich through the barrier and into the room with the captive woman. She tracked their movements dully, lifting her hand as though pleading with him. Yancy moved around the foul contraption of a chair, removing the suction cups. Kyrin mewled, her expression a mixture of need and pain.

  “Closer, metal man. See if your presence prompts her breasts to produce the nectar,” she urged, pushing Rich toward the chair.

  He didn’t want to, really didn’t want to, but her scent hit his olfactory system like a bullet. The smell of her arousal and need almost short circuited his CyBRG systems.

  “Hmmm… nothing yet,” Yancy studied Kyrin with detached professionalism. “Touch her. Fondle her breasts. That should start the flow.”

  He had to maintain his cover identity. Shit. This was not good. Rich reached out a hand and then paused. She was so tiny and delicate. He could easily hurt her if he wasn’t careful. Kyrin noticed his hesitation and cried out, the sound like an animal in pain. Something twisted deep in the center of his chest and he completed the movement, cupping her full breast carefully. She cried out again, but in relief and pleasure, moving against him to cram more of her full breast into his hand.

  “Yes! Perfect! She’ll be there in no time… See how she reaches for you? This is good. Touch her pussy, arouse her. That should bring the nectar forth.”

  Yancy had backed off a couple of steps, but Rich’s movements had slowed, and she frowned.

  “What is it, metal man?” Then her expression cleared. “Of course, how stupid I’ve been. My apologies, you must require some instruction. I’ll allow a couple of the breeding males in and they can show you how to bring a breeding female to release.”

  “No!” Rich’s denial was short and barked. “I am a fully functioning male. I know what to do with a female.”

  Yancy nodded. “Bring her to orgasm then.”

  Shit. There really was no getting out of this. At least, though, he didn’t have to take her sexually. And… an orgasm in the state she was in? That could be considered an act of mercy.

  “Please,” Kyrin whispered and her soft plea did it for him.

  Moving to place himself between her spread legs, and conveniently cutting off both Yancy’s view and that of anyone watching from the corridor, he leaned over the tiny little female.

  “Don’t worry,” he breathed softly by her ear. “I’m here to rescue you. Just work with me, okay?”

  She whimpered, arching her back, and her full breasts pressed against the hardness of his chest. Her nipples abraded themselves on the first metal rib embedded just under his pecs, following the line of his organic ribs beneath. She cried out and did it again, using his metal body for stimulation.

  The world outside the small room ceased to exist as he slid his hand down her side, careful to use his organic hand, and then further to the hot apex between her legs. She moaned again, the sound an erotic order by his ear. He parted her gently, sweeping blunt, broad fingertips beneath her pussy lips and was forced to bite back a groan of his own.

  She was hot, ready and as wet as fuck. All it would take was ripping open the front of his pants and he could be balls deep in her welcoming heat in a heartbeat.

  But this wasn’t for him. It was for her.

  Grimly, he held onto reason and slid his fingers up to find her clit. She whimpered at the first touch, her hips bucking against his hand as he started to stroke. Gentle at first but then faster as he learned her responses.

  He pushed her higher and faster, closer to the edge. He just hoped that, when she went over it, she didn’t take him with her…

  Chapter Five

  Kyrin stared at the huge man between her legs through the drug-fueled haze that clouded her vision. Had he really said he was here to rescue her? He didn’t look like anyone she would have thought either her father or IPKA would send. He looked like he was half robot—a metal arm and metal legs, not to mention all the implants she could see running under his skin.

  Cyborg, her sludgy brain supplied numbly. He’s a cyborg.

  Right—she’d heard of them. Some kind of new program of the Space Corps—but she’d never expected one to come get her.

  But before he could begin to rescue her from the Breeding Compound, he needed to help her with the effects of the drugs the nuns had been pumping into her. Her breasts felt painfully full and her nipples were so tight and swollen they hurt. Between her thighs, her pussy was throbbing like a second heartbeat. The feeling of her rescuer’s blunt, broad fingertips sliding into her slippery folds was almost more than she could stand.

  “Please,” she whispered, straining toward him. He had dark hair that fell over his forehead and pale blue eyes. A handsome, rugged face, despite all the metal and implants.

  Half man, half metal, he comes from the stars, whispered a little voice in her head. But at that moment, Kyrin didn’t care where he came from. She only knew his touch was gentle and her body was crying out in need.

  “Please,” she said again, begging him with her eyes. “My breasts…they hurt. They’re so full.”

  When exactly they had filled, she didn’t know. It had something to do with the shot of breeding drugs Sister Yancy had given her, Kyrin thought. Her breasts hadn’t felt this way when she’d woken up that morning. It was a struggle to remember, but she knew that much at least.

  “What can I do?” His voice was low and rough but filled with compassion—a very human sounding voice, despite his metal accoutrements. “Tell me the best way to help you, sweetheart.”

  Kyrin knew what her body wanted—what it needed, and she didn’t hesitate to ask.

  “If you could suck them?” she whispered pleadingly, nodding at her full, naked breasts. “I think…think it would ease the pressure. Please.”

  Part of her thought that she should be ashamed to beg a stranger she’d just met—a man whose name she didn’t even know—to perform such an intimate service for her. But her body was on fire with need—she was past such trivial considerations as shame and embarrassment.

  To his credit, the cyborg didn’t betray any shock
or distaste at her request. Then again, he was still stroking her pussy with a light, sure touch so maybe he, too, was past embarrassment.

  He dropped to his knees before her and ducked his head, capturing one painfully ripe nipple between his lips. He swirled his tongue around the aching peak, making Kyrin moan, before sucking it deep into his hot mouth.

  “Oh!” she gasped and threw back her head, shoving her breasts forward, wanting him to take more—wanting him to have complete, unrestricted access to her body.

  He sucked gently at first but then, somehow sensing her need, he sucked harder. At the same time, the fingertips swirling around her aching clit began to go faster, sending sparks of pleasure through her entire body.

  “Yes!” Kyrin gasped. “Oh, Goddess—yes, please!”

  He stopped sucking for a moment to speak softly into her ear.

  “I have to make you come—it’s the only way, Kyrin. They’ll suspect me otherwise.”

  “Yes.” She nodded feverishly. “Yes, please…I need to come. Please help me…” She trailed off. Goddess, she didn’t even know his name! She was about to come all over his hand and she had no idea what to call him.

  “Rich,” he murmured and flashed her a brief but brilliant smile. “Corporal Richard Hardgraves at your service, Ms. Pierce. In any way you need me.”

  “Rich,” she repeated, looking into those pale blue eyes of his again. “Please, Rich—I’m so close. I need…need…”

  “I know what you need, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You need to come. And I’m going to make sure you do.”

  He took her other nipple into his hot mouth and sucked hard—pulling deep, which seemed to send a shower of sparks straight from her tight peak to her tingling pussy. At the same time, he slipped two long, thick fingers into her pussy and his thumb took over rubbing her clit.