by T. J. Quinn
The battle had reached its worst moment when a blast from the enemy lines threw him to the ground too wounded to get back on his feet.
The humans retreated so fast they didn’t realize Khajal was left behind, or maybe they thought the Taucets had killed him.
But he wasn’t dead. He hauled himself away from the Taucets giving his body time to heal itself as fast as possible. Hidden behind a huge rock, he noticed the skin over his control system had been slashed open. They were programmed against slashing their skin to access their control systems. But he quickly realized the programming didn’t anticipate the possibility of the area being exposed by a wound.
Remembering what his friend Jarcor had told him about how to access it and change his programming, he took a deep breath and felt his side carefully. It was right under his left arm, where he touched it gingerly until he found the buttons he had to touch in the proper sequence.
The first time, he couldn’t stop it, in fact, it took him a few times to get the right combination, but he finally did.
“Main programming system activated, please state your commands.” A robotic voice sounded, and he sighed relieved.
“Deactivate command 7789 at once,” he stated. 7789 was the command that forced him to fight the Taucets until he was ordered to retreat or dead in action.
“This command requires a password to be executed. Please state the password.” The voice said again, and Khajal closed his eyes for a moment as he accessed the recording of his conversation with Jarcor. His friend had given him the code, hoping one day he would get the opportunity to escape.
And now he had. Jarcor had gone to a lot of trouble to get the information they needed. Thanks to him, several of them had been able to escape, after being wounded like Khajal had been.
Carefully, he stated the password, hoping the humans hadn't changed it.
“Command deactivated.” The rush of relief that surged through his veins was quite incredible.
“Deactivate all tracking systems at once,” he ordered immediately, knowing he couldn’t go far if he didn’t deactivate those little bastards.
“Tracking devices deactivated.” Feeling much better he took a deep breath.
He knew he still had a lot to reprogram, but right now he had to escape and get to a safer place, away from the humans and the Taucets, at least for now.
Putting the skin back over the control system, he allowed his nanocybots to heal the wound quickly, as he slipped away from the war zone.
According to the last information they received from the humans, he knew there was a Taucet colony not very far from this battlefield. He needed to get there as soon as possible and confirm the rumors they helped the cyborgs that escaped the humans’ control.
After a while crawling on the muddy grounds, he managed to get up and ran as fast as he could to escape the place where the battle was still raging. He needed to find shelter where he could allow his body to heal itself before he tried to get to the Taucets’ colony.
And he did. As soon as he was safe, hidden in a cave, he sent out a message to his friends on the battlefield to let them know he managed to escape. He was sure his message would make them very happy. It would give them hope, showing them, freedom wasn’t an impossible dream, but something real and doable, under the right circumstances.
It took him a couple of days recover fully and become hundred percent operative. Only then, did he dare to leave the cave he had been hiding in.
The battle had moved away, and he no longer had communication with his friends, but the fact he had been able to send that last message comforted him.
It didn’t take him long to find the Taucets colony. It was huge and not exactly hidden, but it was heavily guarded.
Cautiously, he approached the entrance, and the guards immediately allowed him in.
“We were told you had escaped,” the alien that had introduced himself as Anion, explained as he welcomed him to the colony. They were in a small office near the walls that protected the colony, sitting around a small table. “And of course, we were hoping you decided to pay us a visit,” he added with a slimy smile on his blue face.
“How did you find out about my escape?” he asked, with a frown.
“Humans looked for you when the battle was over. And I must say they weren’t very discreet on their search,” he said in a scornful tone. “We know you are one of their best warriors,” he added.
“They can always build another one like me,” Khajal replied with all his hatred oozing out of his words.
“Oh, they can build a thousand like you, but they will never have another you,” the alien’s statement surprised Khajal. He thought Taucets considered cyborgs as war machines, with no soul, and utterly replaceable. Apparently, he was wrong.
“Yes, they will never have another me.” He nodded.
“Why don’t you stay with us for a few planet rotations? You’ll be able to rest and clear your mind before you make decisions about your future,” he suggested, again with the slimy smile pasted on his face.
“Tell me more about this colony. Do you only have your people here?” Khajal asked before he committed to anything.
“No, we also have a considerable number of slaves for our entertainment. We’re trying to breed, but so far there has not been any offspring resulting from the breeding.” Anion explained.
“What slaves? From where?” he asked, suspicious.
“Earthling slaves, from the cities we have taken under control,” he explained.
“But why would you want to breed with humans?” There was so much disgust in Khajal’s tone that Anion chuckled.
“We have our own reasons, but so far it hasn’t worked.” The truth was they hadn't gotten as many females as they needed.
The war was lasting much longer than expected and they were running out of warriors. The Taucets only lived around ten sun rotations, Even though their females gave birth to at least ten offspring each time, their numbers were steadily diminishing. For some reason, the number of females being born was incredibly smaller than that of the males, and that was disturbing, especially if they wanted to win this war.
Their home planet wasn’t going to send more men into this planet, until the war was over, so they had to find a way to increase the number of warriors available.
“What about the men you capture?” Khajal asked a bit curious.
“They’re taken to our crop fields. We need food, and it’s the best way to get it.” Anion explained.
“Yes, I guess you’re right.” He nodded.
“So, what do you say? Will you stay with us for a while?” he suggested once more.
“Yes, I will, if you help me contact the other cyborgs,” he replied, with a faint smile.
“Of course, we would be glad to help you with that.”
After that, he had taken into a guest quarters, and after promising he would get him clothes, the alien had disappeared.
And now he dared to bring a human female into his quarters.
Chapter Six
“A human female? Is this some kind of sick joke?” Khajal yelled at the alien.
“No… no… I assure you. I just thought you would like to have one for your pleasure. She’s here to serve you, and she’s yours to do whatever you want with her. There’s plenty more where she came from.”
Savannah heard Anion talking about her as if she was an expendable rubber doll and rage boiled through her whole body, but she remembered the women’s words about showing herself subservient to the cyborg if she wanted to see the sun come out again and she refrained from voicing her fury.
She saw the frown wrinkle the cyborg’s forehead. He didn’t seem to like the idea, and she started hoping he would reject her.
But her hopes died only seconds later when he closed the distance between them and pulled her face up, forcing her to look at him. His grip was strong, but not hurtful and a strange heat seemed to irradiate from his skin to hers, making her flush a bit and hastening her
heart beat.
He locked his eyes on hers, and for a moment she had the feeling he was looking all the way into her soul. She felt more exposed than ever in her life.
“So, you say she’s mine, to do whatever I please?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit more guttural than a few moments ago.
“Yes, of course. She’s yours to amuse yourself however you like.” The other man’s condescending tone showed them exactly what was going through his mind.
“Well… you’re probably right. It would be nice to have a human servicing me for a change.” There was so much hatred in his tone, Savannah shuddered.
“Good..., I’ll leave you two to it.” With a devious grin, the alien left the room, sliding the door closed behind his back.
The cyborg dropped her chin and moved away from her, with a stern expression on his face. Savannah stood right where she was, waiting to see what he would do.
“What’s your name, slave?” he snarled the question, tilting his head to look at her.
“My name is Savannah, sir,” she replied, trying to be as subservient as she could, especially when all she wanted was to run out of there before he decided he wanted nothing to do with a human slave.
He snorted at her deferent treatment. No human had ever treated him with respect, so he wasn’t buying her attitude. “Where are you from, Savannah?” he asked, without emotion, as he turned to look at her, crossing his powerful arms over his chest.
“From a small town in the Rocky Mountains, Sir,” she replied, averting her eyes from him.
“Look at me,” he barked the order, watching her jump with pleasure.
But she obeyed his order immediately, locking her blue eyes on him. Even though he could tell she was afraid of him she was doing a decent job at keeping that fear at bay as if she didn’t want to show him any weakness.
“How long have you been here?” he asked, curious.
“I was captured this morning, sir,” she replied, feeling her heart pounding hard in her chest, as she tried to read the expression on his face. But it was impossible. It seemed carved in stone.
“What do you know about cyborgs, slave?” he asked, omitting her name on purpose, to see if she would show her true character.
She pursed her lips for a split second before she answered. “Not much, sir, just that you were created to help us fight the war against the alien invaders,” she replied, keeping the answer short, not sure what he was after with that question.
“So, you too think we’re nothing but machines, perfectly replaceable.”
He finally got a true reaction from her.
“Please, don’t put words in my mouth,” she protested. “You’re the first cyborg I’ve ever seen in my life. My knowledge about your people is limited to that provided by the government, and though they never called you machines, they haven’t called you humans either,” she added.
He closed the distance between them and towering her, he grabbed her right hand and put it on his chest.
“Can you feel that?” he snarled at her. “That’s my heart beating. A human heart… not a mechanical one, my brain might have mechanical parts but it’s still mainly human, and if souls actually exist, then I’m sure I have one as well,” he pointed out in an ice-cold tone.
Slightly shuddering, she felt surges of energy rushing through her body from wherever it contacted his… as if there was an invisible force connecting them.
“I’m glad to hear that, sir,” she said, in a firm tone.
He released her and took a few steps away from her. “Of course, you are,” he replied in a scornful tone.
“You do seem to have a lot of feelings I’m sure I wouldn’t find in a machine,” she retorted, poked by his tone.
For a moment he looked at her with a deep frown on his face, before he turned around, giving her his back, as he headed to what looked like a bathroom.
“Join me… I could use a proper bath, and you can help me with that,” he ordered as he entered the other room.
Savannah looked at his back, surprised by the change of topic, but it seemed she wouldn’t die for now.
The idea of bathing him didn’t please her much, but she wouldn’t dare to protest. She hadn't lost hope of escaping the nightmare she had been thrown into.
As she walked to the bathroom, she took the time to look at the room they were in. It was at least three times bigger than hers, with a huge bed against one of the walls, a couch and two chairs on the other and a table for four on the other, making it a very comfortable suite. The bathroom was also huge, and it didn’t have the hideous shower stall she had to use when Susan and Sally had bathed her.
This one was a very luxurious shower, with water massagers and everything. The aliens were using all the human’s technology they could lay their hands on.
Khajal was already naked when she entered the room, and she immediately added another thing to his list of human parts: his cock. Big, thick and absolutely perfect, it hung half erect between his legs, making her heart miss a beat, only to resume in a frantic rhythm.
She couldn’t believe she was drooling for a man that hated her guts and that had her life in his powerful hand, but there was no use denying her attraction… at least, not to herself. She would die first before she admitted it to him.
He opened the faucets and controlled the water’s temperature before he turned to look at her. “Take your clothes off and join me at the stall.”
She gasped, and for a moment she considered saying no, but one look at his face and she was sure that was exactly what he was waiting for… an excuse to punish her.
Pursing her lips, she took her dress off over her head and stepped inside the huge shower stall. “I’ve never bathed anyone, Sir, so, please feel free to instruct me on what you would like me to do,” she informed him, grabbing the bathing cloth from a small shelf.
“Just pretend you’re washing yourself. I’m sure you can do that,” he replied, in a sarcastic tone, as he stood there, underneath the warm stream waiting for her to act.
Taking a deep breath, she poured some of the liquid soap into the bathing cloth and looked at him, trying to decide where she should start. He was a lot taller than her, and she barely reached his neck, so decided to start there, rubbing his skin, gently, washing away all the mud and blood that had covered his body.
One wound seemed recent, and she hesitated before running the cloth over it.
“Go ahead, I can take.”
“It seems fresh… and even a bit infected,” she said as he raised his arm for her to access it.
“Don’t worry about it. My nanocybots will take care of it,” he assured her, and she finally cleaned the whole area, noticing the scars all over his torso, as if he had been cut open there several times.
She wanted to ask, but somehow, she knew he wouldn’t welcome the question, so she concentrated on her work again, washing his entire body, but avoiding his cock as much as she could, especially when she could see it coming to life with her touch.
“You’re missing one part, slave,” he pointed out, with sadistic pleasure.
She tilted her head to look at him for a moment, and the lust she saw written all over his face convinced her more than anything that he was no machine.
Gulping, she finally directed the cloth over his hard cock, washing it as best as she could, without allowing her hand to actually touch his skin, but he soon saw her game and pulled the cloth out of her hand.
“Go on,” he ordered, when she looked at him, startled. “Be thorough.”
Taking a deep breath, she rested her hand once more on his thick shaft, sliding it all over it, feeling how her heart thundered in her chest, and her mind got filled with all kinds of dirty pictures starring him and his impressive cock.
Now, she was sure she had lost her mind. She was daydreaming with a cyborg’s hot cock.
“Go harder on it,” he ordered again, and she looked at him, surprised. Was he really asking her to stroke him? “I’m sure you can do th
at, right?”
“How hard, sir?” she asked, instead of answering.
“As hard as you can,” he challenged her with a devious look on his face.
Refraining her desire to strangle him, she did exactly as she was told, and she started to stroke him as hard as she could, but it still didn’t please him.
Putting his own hand over hers, he guided her through the entire process, his eyes locked on her until he came, gushing his sperm all over the floor between them. Some of it sprinkled to her hand, and it felt hotter than she remembered it, but the water quickly washed it away.
“Perhaps, keeping you here won’t be such a bad idea, after all,” he mumbled, still breathing hard.
Chapter Seven
Khajal looked at the woman standing next to him, trying to explain himself why he hadn't killed her already. Humans only mean trouble for him and his kind. Though they should have been the perfect allies, the human’s attitude towards the cyborgs had quickly destroyed that possibility. Now many cyborgs would kill all humans he could to free themselves. Even though he had been programmed as a killer, he didn’t like the idea of killing anyone who represented no danger to him.
He was sure she would no doubt kill him if she could, but right now, she was entirely in his hands. There wasn’t much she could do about it and for some reason that felt good.
“Wash yourself,” he ordered, leaning against the stall’s wall. He wanted to enjoy the show.
“I’ve already bathed, sir.”
“I don’t care. Your job here is to follow my orders, remember?” he pointed out, in a disdainful tone.
She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He could tell she wanted to yell at him precisely what to do with his orders, but she didn’t dare, so she picked a clean cloth, and she was about to pour some soap on it when he stopped her. “Use mine,” he ordered her, signaling the cloth he had thrown to the floor just a few minutes ago.
