“Can you tell me anything about him?”
“We could. Yes. But should we?” He rested both hands on his knees. “Osta is a leader, or was, among us. You don’t want to get on his bad side. Some still see him as powerful.”
But maybe not this man. It was almost a threat.
“He won’t mind if you tell me. He was a good leader?”
He shrugged. “If Osta wants to sell you to me, I’ll bite. Maybe you should convince him.” His eyes slid over her, surely stripping her in his mind. “A good leader, yes, but with flaws like anyone. He has a certain reputation. If he’s not tried you out yet, this you should take heed of. He has fetishes, likes choking his women. Yes?”
The other two murmured agreement.
“I hear he killed a few, accidentally.” He gestured, flipping his hand. “Is that all you wanted? I’d give you a quick dirty ride on my cock but that might rile your owner.” The collar seemed to catch his attention and he winked.
Asshole.
“I’ll pass.” Pretending nonchalance, she rose to her feet. “Who is he? Zerlin?”
“Him?” The man half-turned. “New. Don’t know him or his fucking fetishes.”
Without another word, she walked away. He deserved nothing more than a kick in the crotch but ignoring him was her best she could do for now.
Those fetishes of Osta’s were scary. So they revered him but knew he had weaknesses.
Summed up most leaders on Earth too.
Zerlin though. She studied him. Something told her he was a man to take care with, more so than the asshole. The quiet ones were the scary ones.
She just hoped nothing bad would happen once the crystals were on the beach and nothing was left for the scavs to do except take what they wanted. Would JI-Osta’s word stop them then?
Precarious was how she’d describe the situation. Her stomach hurt as she imagined the worst outcomes, even though she was trying not to imagine anything at all. Worrying was a useless exercise. She hated this. Pilf, the mechlings, and the grounders had saved her when she’d been minutes from dying.
There was nothing she could do except wait and see. The power here did not lie with her.
Five of the mechlings had followed her and JI to the camp, though all of them waited beyond the sand. Sand did not agree with them, and they detested walking through it. It occurred to her that if they would only discover how to kill, as JI had, she might have a power of her own.
*Could you kill?* she asked Tina, she of the squarish body and the skills of a miniature builder. Her limbs could pierce and weld, cut and rivet.
*Hypothetically, yes* Tina answered. *Realistically, no. There are a few locked-down conditions to our brains. Not killing is one of those. It holds even though we are sun-mad, and self-aware.*
*I see. I’m glad, actually. Everything here hurts everything else. It’s good.*
*We will help you in every other way we can. You need only ask.*
Nine mechlings. If she thought of some pivotal task, she would indeed tell them.
Lord of the Rings had nine of something? Nazgul? The evil baddies?
Mechlings were nicer.
Chapter 15
JI found the man with the red ponytail near the end of the camp, and he was alone, clipping his beard. Some strands of gray showed – the man was old enough to have learned his profession and his limitations. He walked past him, assessing the deserted areas nearby. Sand hissed as it hit the leftover stone and the possessions of the grounders.
There was rain in the air though. Clouds on the horizon.
Deep water out there, where waves sloshed and swirled. He wondered why no one ever journeyed onto the water. Surely it was possible? Fish swam in the sea, and these monsters that brought crystals.
Owler was a city where people were the intruders.
“Sir?” Pony-tail man spoke.
It would probably be impolite to begin his request without explaining, by dropping his cock before him. Yes. He had that bit of etiquette sorted.
It would be amusing though.
The grounder put his scissors and mirror on the makeshift table. Wind fluttered the dark green cloth overhead that shielded them from the sun.
“Hello. Renuk?”
“Yes. That is I. Thank you for what you did the day those scavs found us.”
“It was the best solution. I am not fond of people-on-people violence.” Renuk’s eyebrows rose at those words. “You’re a healer?”
“Yes, I am. Can I help you with something?”
“I would like to…have some metal spikes placed in my cock.” He thought about now showing the appendage to Renuk but his eyebrows had climbed even higher. “Is that possible? Not so large as to hurt my female, not so small that it makes no difference while love-making.”
“Umm.” Renuk stroked his chin. “Your request is not entirely unusual. Men have asked for enhancements before, though most just want…” He indicated JI’s groin area. “Larger cocks. Those, I cannot do. In truth, I would not attempt what you ask. That’s a surgical task.”
Surgery. Of course. The mechling with the doctor program might be able to do this.
“If I can get the procedure performed, what would you suggest? What size.”
“Size of the spikes? Ahh. Umm. I will draw something. That might be better. Who would do the surgery?”
“Mechlings. I have one with the programmed skill.”
“I see.” Renuk appeared about to have a seizure – he began to speak then stopped, gestured, and stopped.
He supposed no grounder had ever had a mechling surgeon on hand.
“I think, if it is done, then come to me afterward. I can speed up the healing. Prevent infections. Consider it my gift to you for your intervention between my friends and your fellow scavs.”
JI stared past the man’s head to where Fern wandered. Aunt M was there too. “A gift…or a payment?”
“A gift,” he blurted.
Sweat popped out on the man’s brow, and JI realized he was frightened.
“I thank you, Renuk. However, please do not fear me. I intend you no harm. None.”
He spluttered. “Well. Then, let me add, since you said that. I am worried this could damage your cock and if you are our ally, I don’t wish you to be uhhh annoyed, or ill.”
“I will be careful.”
“Right. Good.”
“Draw in here.” He took the diary from his coat pocket, gave the man a pencil.
The sketch did not take long, and seemed an adequate rendition of a cock. The spikes were short and blunt, looked sensible. Unsensible and nasty would’ve been more interesting.
He frowned. Go away, imagination.
JI ambled away, pondering the final warning. The mechling surgeon would have the final say on this. He certainly did not wish to lose his cock. He’d gone to so much effort to gain one. It was a large size and well proportioned, or so women had said. And yet the appeal of spikes lured him.
He sighed.
Must be sensible.
* * * * *
ABANDONED MEKKER COMPLEX
The view inside the KI-mech main control center was exhilarating, now they’d fitted her hull with the mechlings that formed the second-tier armor. Green on-lights glowing, dials flicking and showing inputs and outputs; ready lights everywhere – very promising.
The mechlings found in storage here were ancient ones, but once placed outside in the open they’d slowly powered up, over many days.
The judge smiled and ran his fingers over a humming console.
“Our man masquerading as a lone scav warrior has succeeded in infiltrating that Owler city encampment, sir.”
Tygorn appeared at his side.
He’d heard the man approaching but had been too enthralled.
“Today is a day for many presents then. Have we any more information on Osta and Aunt M?”
“He’s planted a rumor as to our location to attract the mech, but I have more interesting data. A human woman, F
ern, is also living there.”
“She’s dead, surely?” He frowned, cocked his head in disbelief. Anger stirred. “I stabbed her, dumped her from the landship myself.”
“She is alive. Pink hair, a set of metal sutures in her side, and the fingers of one hand were misaligned, as if once broken.”
“That is her. Well, well.” He straightened, drummed on the console with his fingertips. “If so, I want her too. Get her for me. If she is alive, I have unfinished business with her.”
He never left anything unfinished, if at all possible. Killing her properly would be amusing. Stirring. Fucking her had been good. Tied up, whimpering, blood running down her hands.
This time he’d be even slower with his vengeance.
Chapter 16
Past the torn outline of this maimed city, the sun bright-flickered on the surface of the sea. JI braced himself against the wind buffeting him. Being one of the few high buildings left, the tower felt every twist of breeze. It’d rained last night, so the catchment buckets and troughs under the roof would be full. Even here, on the story below the roof, the floor under his bare feet was damp.
The jagg collar bit into his hand where a blunt spike met palm.
Before they’d left the camp, he’d found someone to place more neat holes in the collar. Now the fit should be correct. Yet he hadn’t tried to place it on her again. He’d waited until now, morning, at the top of the tower. It seemed apt, to do this in the dawn light, after all that’d happened the previous day.
The mechling surgeon had agreed to places the spikes, after detailing how excellent the Aerthe populace was at healing after such implants. He’d chosen the right race. Scavs had a thing with shiny stuff sticking up through their skin. Exhibit A, the scav at the beach with the crest of finger-length-sized spikes running over the top of his head.
Fern had said he resembled a cockatoo, a bird of some magnificence.
He meant to have a spiked cock of magnificence. Not a cockatoo. JI grinned. Jokes, he was getting those too.
As well as anger, sadness, regret…guilt over Osta’s death. Something he’d not have understood at all when he killed the man.
“Breakfast?” Fern had crept up behind him while he thought. His enemy detection systems were down. Not the best thing for a fighting man.
Then she slipped her arms about his waist and snuggled in. He started. Spontaneous hugging was unusual. He could get to like it. Her nipples bumped his back, hard from the cold, or arousal. Cold, he decided, feeling for her mind. She was still sleepy.
Fern was not an enemy, of course.
“I’d make us bacon, eggs, hash browns, pancakes, mushrooms…mmmm. If I were able to.”
It sounded good, he could almost taste it and realized it was another echo of her feelings.
“Why are you not talking to me?” She squeezed him. “The other day, the store? Is that it?”
“I’m not?”
“No. Though I suppose we’ve not exactly done that anyway – talked much.”
He turned in her arms, breath robbed from him by the smooth feel of her gliding over skin, by the undulating press of her body, by her female shape.
One of those things he gained with being humanoid – the admiration of her gender.
“You are beautiful.”
Her smile enhanced her also. “Thank you.” Fern half-shrugged. “So are you.” The smile broadened. “Especially butt naked.”
“I don’t talk?”
“No.”
“I should do this more?”
“Yes? I would like it.”
“I see.” He picked her up and Fern settled her legs about his waist, holding his shoulders. She leaned back and looked into his eyes.
“So? Will you tell me why?”
The softness and slightly damp clasp of her pussy on his skin called to his, for now, unspiked cock. Without him asking for one, an erection coaxed itself upward.
Talking?
Aunt M had never asked for such detailed discussion of things. He’d also never felt anger quite as he had that day. It’d baffled him. Did he owe Fern an explanation?
It would likely enhance their relationship. Unless he wished a mute pet and one that merely obeyed.
Humans were complex. He’d know her emotions but the whys? Not without talking.
He thought he might like to know the whys. But he hadn’t fucked her for a day or more. Priorities.
He found the far wall by dodging the small things like clothes and shoes left on the floor, and lodged her against it, kissing her mouth. He pulled at her lip with teeth, marveling at how she wriggled.
The moans when he bit her neck made his cock fully happy and want to get inside her. He wasn’t one to deny it, and probed for her entrance, then nudged slowly upward.
That now familiar give as she accepted him, the arch of her, her eyes closing, a quiet shudder as he went deeper.
Fuck. No wonder people liked fucking. The pleasure rose in him as he shunted into her and out, her pussy growing more swollen, her clutching of his back more frantic.
When he buried himself fully, spurting his cum up inside her, filling her as she gasped and cried into his neck, her nails surely dug skin from his back.
“You didn’t come did you?”
“No.” That was a whimper. “But I don’t care.”
“No?” He fucked himself into her again, just because – his cock twitching as he squeezed out the last miniscule part of his load.
“Sometimes.” She licked her mouth, sighing. “It’s nice just to get screwed without coming.”
“Uh-huh. Noted.”
Sometimes it’s nice to tie her up, tie her spread-eagled like in the store, her breasts all round and swollen, and fuck her and whip her until she screams.
His imagination had butted in, again. He really agreed with it, but it was also why he’d stopped talking to Fern. What did you do when you constantly dreamed up ways to hurt your pet?
He’d dropped the collar too, on the way here.
“You distracted me.” JI unfucked her, pulling out, and letting her stand, then went to where the collar lay.
After retrieving the collar, he noticed Fern had stayed where he’d left her: Against the wall, red and panting. His cum dribbled down her thighs.
“Look at the mess you created. Cleaning you up is not easy without running water.”
Fern smirked. “Your fault.”
“Eh.” He went to her and grabbed her, dragged her to the old chair he’d hauled in yesterday. Then he pulled her down to lie over his lap.
His hand looked good on her ass. The collar he placed on her ass cheek and stirred it into a perfect circle with his finger, like a crown on her butt.
She put her palms to the floor and craned her neck to see. The smirk came back.
She was imagining too.
“Talking, you said? First this is going on you.” While she remained balancing on her hands, he fitted it over her neck then gently buckled it at the nape. The bruise from an old bite was concealed. The one drawback – he wouldn’t be able to bite her there as easily.
So he leaned over and bit her ass instead. Her squeal pleased him, as well as her squirming.
“Why did I not talk? I found myself angry in the store. Sometimes, when I have you like that, helpless, my imagination goes…crazy.” The best word he could find. “I wanted to hurt you.” Still did.
His hands around her neck, choking her as he fucked her into the wall.
Oh yes. JI narrowed his eyes.
“I like being hurt.”
“Not like this.”
“How?” She curled up and climbed and twisted until she sat on his lap, her hands in her own lap. Her breasts looked as if they needed sucking.
JI sighed and brought himself back on topic.
“At the wall, I’d have choked you, hands tightening on your sweet, little neck.” He stroked there, above the line of the collar, thinking of that. The spikes made her neck look forbidden, tasty.
<
br /> “Oh? Choking. Umm. That is scary.” The fear rose in her mind, but also a tinge of lust.
How could she like fear? He was bad to want to do this.
“Sometimes I like being scared, JI.”
“People don’t like being scared.” He shook his head, slowly.
“You’re an expert on this? An ex-mech. Trust me, sometimes we do like fear. Especially when I trust you.” She poked his chest and he trapped her hand. “This choking though. At the beach, someone told me that was one of Osta’s fetishes.”
He stilled.
Nothing existed for that moment except her eyes, her words. He waited, paralyzed, knowing she was about to say something wrong.
Her tongue touched her bottom lip for a few seconds before she inhaled. “Is a part of you still Osta? The thinking part of you?”
“No. I’m not him at all. I told you that.”
He wanted to ask her if that would scare her more than she could bear but didn’t dare to. Because the answer might scare him.
Chapter 17
The red, sky-thrusting cone of the tower’s roof sat above where JI waited. It was a mock fairytale tower, Fern insisted. Cones at the top were a requirement. This one was good at channeling the water run-off. The edges dribbled water into the containers left below on the flat roof. He waited for the mechling surgeon – the lighting here was good. Plus he liked the view. Aunt M had found him though.
“You are not watching Fern paint the mechlings?” He rolled up to JI, stopping before he ran over a few buckets.
“No.” JI shook his head. “I’m waiting for a mechling though.”
Aunt M made a tsk noise. “I heard of this. You wish spikes in your cock to add to her pleasure.”
And his. He wanted to see her wriggle under him with those inside her, but M wouldn’t understand. The rift between them was growing.
“I am leaving today. To track down the judge. Not you?”
“No.”
“You’d rather stick spikes in your sexual parts and fuck this female?”
“Definitely. Look, M, I’m no hero. I can die easily now. People have always fought wars, killed, lied, done bad shit to each other. Whatever you or I do won’t alter that. I don’t want you to get yourself hurt though.”
Exquisite Possession: A Dark Scifi Romance (The Machinery of Desire Book 4) Page 10
