Cyborg Doms

by H. C. Brown

  “The ship is cloaked. Stay silent. We have to act like cyborgs, unemotional machines, so don’t interact with me unless you use M. S.” He squeezed her arms. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. Please, trust me—whatever happens.”

  * * * * *

  Tamara followed the portly figure of Gryd, walking slowly down the invisible steps of the starship, flanked by two guards.

  He beckoned Jace with one pudgy finger. “515, report.”

  “The ship brought us here, Master, and we lost contact with the mainframe.” Jace moved closer to Gryd. “The ship disintegrated on impact. 636’s AI is not receiving data. Only one female survived.”

  515? 636? What the… ?Tamara trembled. Fane’s long fingers curled around her arm. In a moment of panic, she tried to pull away.

  “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  Tamara forced her body to relax. “What does he mean by 515 and 636?”

  “We are cyborgs to him. He removed any reference to our humanity. We are numbers to him, disposable, less than animals.”

  Gryd moved toward Tamara. He smiled, showing a mouthful of gold teeth. His gaze travelled over her, and he licked his thin lips. Tamara dropped her gaze with a shudder of revulsion.

  “Such a remarkable find; you have a good eye, 515. I will enjoy this tasty morsel.” Gryd turned to his guards. “Take her into the ship and prepare her. I’ll fuck her before we leave.” He moved slowly to face Fane. “Do you know me, 636?”

  “Yes, Master.” Fane met Gryd’s gaze. “I can prepare the girl.”

  “We will soon have you reconnected, 636.” Gryd smiled. “Go ahead. I want to see her ass rosy from your flogger before I fuck it.” He lifted Tamara’s chin and stared into her eyes. “She looks far too arrogant—make her cry.” He patted her cheek. “After I’ve finished I’ll give you to my cyborgs. I like my girls to beg. You’ll need a thorough education before I allow you to pleasure my guests.”

  Tamara drew a deep breath. “Connect to Fane.”

  “I have no intention of flogging you.”

  “Flogging me… fuck… that’s the least of my worries. What does he mean by ‘entertaining his guests’? Please don’t tell me you neglected to tell me what this asshole does on Terros 9.”

  “We are pleasure cyborgs. Jace and me, we’re his Doms. We prepare the females for Gryd and his guests.”

  She turned and glared at Fane. “What else do you do for his guests?”

  “We do whatever they want.” Fane looked away.

  “So you fuck on command . . . like a bloody prostitute.”

  “Like a sex slave. We were abused and degraded. That’s why we left.”

  Tamara chewed her bottom lip and tried to hold back the tirade hovering on the tip of her tongue. This little adventure was deteriorating rapidly. Sex slaves—and Fane was a Dom! Why the hell had, he decided to withhold that piece of information? She allowed Fane to lead her into the ship. She stumbled inside and gasped at the sight before her. So many flashing panels, the ship was like something out of a sci-fi movie. Fane’s voice echoed inside her head.

  “Jace is in contact with the two guards. He knows them. Apparently they’ve been working on a plan to escape since they arrived on Terros 9. Look, I know you’re angry with me, but stick to the plan. I’ll explain everything when you’re safe.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were a sex slave? A Dom, for Christ’s sake, is one thing, but a sex slave? Just how many, and what species did you have sex with? Do you carry diseases? No, don’t bother telling me. Fuck. Don’t you think I deserved to know that piece of information before I allowed you inside my body? Look, I’ll go along with this plan… but when this is over, we’re finished, understand?”

  “No, I don’t understand. You know I care for you.” Fane’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you have secrets too . . . like the handcuffs tied to your bed.”

  “Don’t try and turn this around, Fane. You dragged me into this shit and conveniently left out important things about yourself. I don’t care about the enhancements or that you’re from the future, but a sex slave—fucking anything for Gryd’s entertainment—Christ, I can’t handle that… I’m sorry.” Tamara’s heart clenched. “You said if it didn’t work, you would walk away… I’m telling you to walk away.”

  * * * * *

  Fane dropped her arm and gazed into her furious face. How could he make her understand? Sharing the fact he’d been less than a slave—that he’d been nothing, a machine—wasn’t easy under the best of circumstances. How could he go into detail about all the sordid acts he performed before he had gained control of his AI, with a woman he’d just met? A woman he wanted to impress, not sicken. The gang rapes he had endured, or the kinky sex he had indulged in… God, he was a monster. She was correct; he did not deserve a good woman. Squaring his shoulders, he blanked his mind and expression. After masking his feelings for four years, another hour would not hurt.

  Drawing a deep breath, Fane touched her face. She stiffened under his touch and angrily batted his hand away. His heart shattered into a million pieces. This beautiful woman had given herself to him, offered him the love he craved. He wracked his brain for anything he could say that might salvage the situation. Her eyes flashed with anger. Was that regret shadowed in those green depths? “I have many secrets, Tamara. There are too many scars on my heart and conscience to divulge in the infancy of our relationship. I have endured countless indecencies, but why should I let the depravity of Gryd destroy the beauty in our relationship? Memories, such as these, a man must keep to himself. If things had worked out between us, I would have bared my soul before I asked you for a commitment. I needed you to trust me.” He noticed a flicker of remorse before Tamara looked away.

  He turned his mind to the task ahead of them and led Tamara into the hold of the ship. “Wait here. When we are all aboard, I’ll let you know. Use the gas. As soon as Gryd is down, get the hell out of here. Take one of the flybikes and go home. You wanted honesty so I’ll start here. Nothing will stop Jace from killing Gryd. That’s another strike against us, but you’ll have to live with it. Jace won’t allow him to get away with the atrocities and murders he’s committed. Not for you… not for me… not for anyone.”

  * * * * *

  Tamara chewed her nails and waited for Fane’s signal. His words repeated in her mind. What he had said was true. She had no right to expect him to reveal his darkest secrets. Hell, she had acted like a jealous wife. Why had she told him to walk way? She longed for him, and now she had lost him. She tried to concentrate on the plan, but her mind drifted constantly back to Fane. The pain in his eyes from her harsh words made her stomach twist. I am such a damn fool.

  “Hatch is closed. Branz and Vinn are with us.”

  Tamara jumped at Jace’s voice. “Why isn’t Fane telling me this?”

  “Fane is walking away. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Don’t worry, he’s a big boy. He’ll soon find someone to warm his bed. If you want to get out of here alive, follow the plan. Jace out.”

  Tamara closed her eyes. “Connect me to Fane. Fane… I’m sorry. I want to sort this out with you. Don’t walk away… please.”

  She waited for a response, but none came. Only heavy silence, and her own regrets, filled her mind.

  Stunned by Jace’s harsh words, Tamara pulled the gas cylinders from her bracelet. She placed them on the floor and crushed the glass eggs under her boot. The plan moved ahead swiftly. Gryd had reached the door to the hold before the gas hit him, and he crumpled to the floor. Strong hands lifted her over his body, and she looked into the smiling face of one of the guards. As they reached the hatch, she glanced back to see Fane sitting in the pilot’s seat with Jace beside him. Lord, they were going to fly away and leave her behind. Struggling in the guards arms, she yelled at the top of her voice. “Fane… I’m sorry.”

  The guard deposited her on the grass and turned to leave. Tamara grabbed hold of his sleeve. “Tell Fane . . . tell him . . . tell him I do trust hi
m—I trust him with my life.”

  “Run.” The guard gave her a blank expression. “The after-burner will kill you.”

  Tamara glanced around to get her bearings. She turned to see the hatch close. A loud humming filled the air. Damn obstinate man. I said I was sorry. Tamara let out a string of curses and fled into the forest.

  * * * * *

  Fane watched Tamara until she vanished from sight before he took the starship into orbit. So the little minx was sorry, was she? He turned to Branz. “The woman is madly in love with me, but she doesn’t know it yet.”

  “The way you two were carrying on, I thought you were already married.” Branz gave Fane a wide grin. “I’m still trying to figure out how you two managed a spat in the middle of an escape.”

  “I’m trying to figure out how the fucking hell Gryd tracked us through time to Earth.” Jace turned his head to look at Vinn. “Did he say anything?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Vinn grinned. “You will love this. It seems all the AIs made in Javronia used a chip made from Xiline. This crystal is exclusive to our planet. Seems the fucking thing leaves a trace—it virtually lights up a path directly to us. Even if we get rid of Gryd, there’s no way to stop someone else from finding us.”

  Fane shrugged. “We’ll have to collapse the wormhole.”

  “Can we do that?” Jace shot a glance at Fane. “You’re the weapons expert.”

  “With the firepower on this baby… sure can.” He sighed. “What we gonna do about Gryd?”

  “Send the bastard into space alive.” Jace grimaced. “That way, when the doc asks you, you can tell her Gryd was alive when he left the ship.”

  Fane raised a brow. “It’s still murder.”

  “Nah,” Jace snorted. “Execution for crimes against humanity, kidnapping, rape, murder… fucking pick one if you need to sooth your conscience. Or would you rather I strangle the fat, little asshole?”

  “No. We’ll do it your way.” Fane turned in his seat to Vinn and Branz. “If you both agree with this plan, get the Gryd garbage ready for jettison; we should be through Earth’s atmosphere in a few minutes.” Fane armed the weapons. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Chapter Nine

  Tamara arrived home and stumbled up the front steps. She went straight to her bedroom and flopped down on the bed. Fane’s unique scent flooded her senses. She buried her head in the pillow and allowed the tears to fall. He had left, and she was alone again.

  The weekend passed, and then the next lonely week. The flybike had vanished from the front of her house so one of them had picked it up. Fane had said they would meet at the Strand Hotel after the mission, if separated, but she had tried countless times to contact Fane without luck. To her dismay, the information obtained from the front desk only told her he had checked out of the hotel and left no forwarding address. Tamara dragged herself to work on Friday morning. Tired and depressed, she moved through the never-ending list of patients. On the way home, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a shop window. She hardly recognized the wan face with dark circles looking back at her. Pressing her palms to her temples, she moaned. Waves of remorse hit her. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She missed him, after one night of glorious love. She missed Fane in her bed—in her life.

  “Tamara?”

  Pasting a smile on her face, Tamara turned around.

  Gloria, a sub Tamara knew from Depravity, gave her a cheery smile. “I haven’t seen you at the club lately.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “The place has changed owners and has new Doms. A couple of real hunks, and they have some unique tricks.” Gloria moved closer. “There are two who work together.”

  Tamara met her gaze. New Masters, now that was interesting. She needed to get her life back. “I’ll come down tonight. Nice seeing you.”

  “They come in late, usually after nine.” Gloria giggled. “See you later.”

  * * * * *

  Fane closed his cell phone and chuckled. Gloria, one of Depravity’s house subs, had come through for him. Tamara would be in the club—his club—tonight. The decision for the four escapees of Terros 9 to buy Depravity had come quickly. Gryd’s starship carried more gold bars than they could trade in a lifetime. They were all Doms, and this legitimate business covered any suspicions about their identities. The owner practically threw them the deed to the property after their spectacular, cash offer. All told, the transaction took less than three hours start to finish.

  The apartments above Depravity held suitable, separate accommodation for each owner. Fane had big plans for his part of the real estate. If he could convince Tamara to take him back, he would make it into a home. Tamara—her name echoed in his soul. How he had wanted to M. S. with her. He could hear her trying to contact him and it hurt so bad to remain silent. Convinced she needed space and time to think, he decided to wait before contacting her again. When he went through the Depravity members list and found her name, he changed his mind. On the records, Tamara had listed her preference as a no-sex sub. He fingered the soft leather collar he had chosen for her and grinned. I’ll soon change that.

  Not in his wildest dreams could he have hoped Tamara was a sub. In bed, she was an aggressive lover—she would be perfect to train. Fane recalled the moment he had asked her to hold onto the bar at the head of the bed. She had bitten her bottom lip and shook with anticipation. Looking back, he remembered how much she’d enjoyed him restraining her, the weight of his body pinning her to the bed. He had often used that simple technique in the past to see if a girl was a sub. Oh yes, he knew how to treat Tamara. Verbal demands and shows of physical strength turned her on—she liked to feel helpless—dominated.

  * * * * *

  That evening, Tamara threw a long coat over her tight, leather mini and matching bra. She glanced at her reflection in the hall mirror and sighed. Had she applied too much make-up or not enough? The black eyeliner made her eyes appear huge and the lip-gloss accentuated her full lips. The cab she had ordered earlier sounded its horn. She buttoned her coat, pushed her purse under one arm, and rushed out of the front door.

  The cab stopped outside the gate to Depravity, and Tamara’s heart began to race. She had to stop crying over Fane. These new Doms might be just what she needed. She walked past the guard at the first gate and clattered down the steps. Inside, the man at the desk beckoned her. She gave him a smile. “Good evening.”

  “Have you signed the waiver for the new owners?” He pushed a micro-pad across the desk. “New owners have instituted a new set of policies and conditions.”

  Tamara picked up the stylus and scrawled her signature. “Fine, can I go now?”

  “Sure.”

  She made her way down the back corridor to the subs’ changing room, removed her coat, and stashed it along with her purse in her locker. Steam billowed from the adjoining showers, but the main area was empty. Following the sound of music, she took the steps down to the bar. The scent of leather, beer, and wax flowed over her senses. Her pussy tingled with excitement. At the edge of the dance floor, a small group of female subs danced together. Without a second thought, she joined them and began to move to the sensuous music.

  Keeping her sub’s demeanor, she cast a furtive glance toward the VIP area of the bar, and the world fell away. Her heart raced. There, leaning casually against the bar, stood Fane. He cut an impressive figure dressed in black leather pants slung low on the hips. A silver, studded vest hung open to show rippling muscles and a flat stomach. A leather flogger hung from his belt. In his hand swung a collar and a long, silver chain. He met her gaze and held it with an unemotional stare. Tamara swallowed hard. Her dance moves grew stilted and uncoordinated. Fane moved across the floor like a cat stalking a mouse, slow and deliberate, until he stood over her.

  Tamara trembled. The heat of his body washed over her in a warm embrace. He was so close she could smell him. Mixed with the delightful aroma of leather, Fane’s scent intoxicated her to the point of erotic fever.
r />   “Take me for your Master.”

  Tamara nodded, keeping her eyes averted.

  “You will show respect for me, slave.” Fane slipped the collar around Tamara’s neck and led her off the dance floor.

  Her heart leapt with joy. He had put his collar on her so no other Master would touch her. Fane’s long fingers closed around the chain, and he led her toward the VIP section, stopping a few feet before the Doms congregated at the bar. She took several deep breaths to steady her nerves. This is what she wanted. He was what she needed to fulfill her dreams. In truth, she had waited for Fane all her life.

  “Remove your panties and give them to me. You will never wear panties again in my presence.” Fane held out his hand.

  With her gaze firmly on the polished wood floor, Tamara removed the black, lacy strip of fabric and handed it to him. She met his gaze briefly and cast her eyes back to the floor. “Yes, Master.”

  “Get on your knees.” Fane pushed on Tamara’s shoulder. “Show devotion to your Master.”

  Aware of the entire VIP section watching her, Tamara’s face grew hot. She knelt before Fane. The thought of showing her bare ass to the entire club made her pussy cream. She bent down to lick the silver medallions on his boots, and then traced a path up his leg. The taste of leather and Fane filled her mouth, sending tremors of delight racing across her overheated skin. She grasped his massive thighs to draw him closer. She licked and nibbled a path across his groin. His thick cock strained rock hard against the leather in an inviting bulge. She nuzzled against the length, sliding her mouth across his heavy cock. She bit, she teased. Her fingers went to his belt. She needed to taste him.

  “No.” Fane pulled on the chain. “Stand up and open your legs.”

  Tamara complied. Fane slid his warm hand under her skirt and cupped her pussy. His long fingers caressed her soaking folds, heightening her desire. He stopped and she groaned.

  “Did I say you could moan?” Fane lifted her chin.