Adin's Adventure: How to Ruin a Rescue Page 2

  Sagging and panting as the pleasure receded, he looked down at the female. She was smiling, legs spread and heels braced on the floor, hands on his hips. Her claws flexed, digging into him with little pricks that made him twitch, before she moved her grip to his ass. Then she jerked him towards her, snapping her hips up to meet him, and his world dissolved into heat again.

  This time the sensations took him less by surprise, though, and Adin’s instincts guided him. He pushed her hands away and hooked an arm under each of her legs, lifting and spreading her as he leaned forward. Then, in his own damned time, he moved his hips, sliding slow and agonizingly sweet in and out of her tight holes, his third cock wedged between them.

  She watched him with that smile, clasping his shoulders and moving with him in perfect synchronicity. The fire built slower, hotter, sizzling along his nerves and diving deep into his core, burning, burning…

  He heard himself making those hoarse, animal sounds again and couldn’t stop. The pleasure was insane, rushing through him in near violent waves, obliterating thought and any hint of control. He thrust faster and harder with each passing moment, tunneling into her with savage force, the sensation of her clamped around his pulsing cocks driving him wild and sending shocks all the way out to his extremities.

  His orgasm burst like a supernova, from the base of his spine outward in a wildfire that seemed to drain him not only of cum but his life-force. He pumped and shot deliriously into the female’s dark depths, his muscles seizing and quivering before relaxing all at once. He collapsed onto her, strength gone, sucking air desperately.

  She didn’t seem to mind, arms and legs folding him close. He reached for her telepathically, hazy gratitude in every particle of his being, until he remembered she was only a droid. The blankness of her washed over him like ice water and he recoiled, pushing away awkwardly and gritting his teeth at the feel of his cocks slipping from her drenched folds.

  Sitting up on shaky limbs, he met her still seductive gaze with a glower. Any normal Ophidian female would be deeply offended and furious with his animalistic humping, his selfish drive toward his own pleasure. He was humiliated and embarrassed by his lack of control and clumsy, inexpert fucking. This hadn’t been a mating—this was coerced masturbation.

  Lunging to his feet, he turned his back on her and moved to the corner that housed the sanitizing tube. Activating it without looking at the droid, he braced his hands against the smooth, opaque surface and hung his head while power streams ran over his flesh and cleaned him of any material and microbes.

  Great Stars, find me a way home.

  *******

  “You upset him,” Neeri murmured, watching on her holo display as the Ophidian hunched in his sanitizing tube. She frowned, strangely disturbed by his obvious distress.

  The Orchestrator turned its mechanical head toward her, the visor that served as its visual sensor blank of expression as usual. “He required the push.”

  “You could have given him more time.”

  “More time would have skewed our data flow.”

  She snorted, not bothering to hide her contempt for their data flow. “At least get the sex bot out of there. You saw him—he’s in full burn. He doesn’t need that skanky bitch anymore.” The possessive anger leaching into her tone also disturbed her. Snapping her mouth shut, Neeri faced the display and pretended not to feel the Orchestrator’s steady regard.

  “You feel too much for them.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” she snapped. “To balance out your cold, unfeeling, much too logical asshole-ness?”

  The Orchestrator didn’t take offense. She wasn’t sure it could. With a small, mechanical hum, it turned back to the controls and touched several with its sinuous, synthetic arms.

  Neeri watched it out of the corner of her eye. She liked to call it Big O because that made her laugh and because it didn’t get the joke. She also liked to think of it as a he, because all those long, slithery appendages turned her on. She’d had a few fantasies about those sinuous arms slithering all over her and pumping inside her while she lay stretched out naked on his controls.

  She was a hedonistic creature, embracing pleasure in all its forms, even humping a rolling dildo like Big O. For her, this job was pure torture. All day long she watched sex and couldn’t join in. Hell in a hand basket.

  “You could’ve sent me in. I would’ve made him burn,” she mumbled, squirming in her seat as she remembered Adin’s muscles working under that beautiful jewel-like skin, driving those scrumptious cocks in and out of the stupid, unimaginative bot.

  “You are here to observe and assist in the facilitation of the program. You are not here to participate. As I have reminded you on an almost daily basis.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Do I detect a smidge of cattiness? Treading on my territory, Big O?”

  “I will never understand the Cooperative’s reasoning in hiring you for this position.”

  “Shit, here we go…” she muttered, leaning back in her chair with a sigh.

  “You are insubordinate.”

  “Guilty.”

  “You don’t know the meaning of the word punctual.”

  “Time is relative.”

  “Your reports, when you remember to turn them in, are disorganized and insufficient.”

  “Bite me.”

  “And you are forever in heat.”

  She bared her canines at him and propped a foot on the console, stroking a lazy hand down her bare thigh all the way to her pussy. Her skirt slid with the motion, bunching across her hips and letting cool air kiss her already wet labia. “You wish you could feel this good,” she hissed, stroking slow fingers over her bare pussy lips with a shiver of delight. Underwear was an abomination she chose to boycott.

  “You are making my point for me,” the Orchestrator said in a toneless voice that still managed to convey humor.

  She gave him a sly smile and lifted her hand from her now throbbing pussy, showing him the shiny fluid on her fingers before giving each digit a slow, salacious lick. With a purr of pleasure at the tangy flavor, she said huskily, “If you really had a point to make, you’d be over here showing me.”

  With a mechanical sound like a long-suffering sigh, Big O turned back to his work. “Your observation of the Ophidian’s emotional state is noted and catalogued. Do you have a recommendation for the next subject we will present to him?”

  Yes, me!

  But that was about as likely as Big O fucking the insubordination out of her. With a sigh of her own, Neeri turned to the display, watching Adin pace the confines of his room. At least that useless fake female was gone. Now she had to choose his next experience and was surprisingly reluctant.

  She thought he was beautiful, limbs long and strong, glorious deep blue and black coloring, not to mention three delicious cocks. Usually she enjoyed watching the attractive ones but this time she felt an unfamiliar acidic coil in her gut at the thought.

  Maybe it was his distress. His brother hadn’t been so affected. Ocen hadn’t liked confinement but he’d never had trouble with the program.

  Neeri remembered him fondly—always a good show, that one, almost as beautiful as his younger brother and willing to please any female they paired him with to exhaustion. Until he’d mated true with the human and refused to participate any longer. They’d had to shuffle the pair out of the program, though Big O had seemed satisfied—almost delighted—with the data.

  “Neeri, please tell me you haven’t slipped into another nap.”

  “Shut up, I’m thinking.”

  “Translation, you’re fantasizing again. If you ever had an actual thought, I would be most surprised.”

  “You’re ugly when you’re bitchy, O. Can’t you give him time off?”

  “That is not within the program parameters.”

  “But when you talk like a geek I wanna fuck you six ways from Sunday,” she said dryly, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Send him Gerty. She’ll ride
the reluctance right out of him.”

  “Referring to the subjects by pet names is unprofessional. Subject D3454 is tagged as aggressive. She may injure him if he does not show enough dominance.”

  “Right,” she mumbled. “I was thinking of his brother. Send in Glassman, then. He always got along with Ocen.”

  “The Abissyn’s name is not Glassman, nor is it a male. They are an asexual species. At this stage in the Ophidian’s testing, he requires a female pairing. If you do not choose, I will.”

  Neeri scowled at him. Big O sucked at choosing sex partners. Probably because the big mechanical goober had never had sex or a partner. His “logical” choices tended to fail abysmally. Which was why the Cooperative had resorted to hiring her. She was great at sex.

  “You’re a big ol’ asshole with gears, O. Send in Shells. She’s sweet but experienced enough to keep him on track.” And I feel sorry for her, so I won’t hate her as much when he fucks her silly.

  Neeri mulled over that peculiar thought for a nanosecond before shoving it in a special corner of her mind labeled “Reject and Delete.” It was important for her to understand the emotions and reactions of the test subjects. It was even okay for her to empathize with them. It was not okay for her to have feelings for them, especially jealous, possessive, attachment-type feelings.

  She just felt bad for Adin that was all. He had shitty luck, searching for his brother only to get kidnapped by Ridge the idiot bartender and dropped here just when his brother left. He was having a rough transition for one of his species and she felt sorry for him. That’s all it was.

  When she switched her display so she wouldn’t have to watch Adin and Shells together, she refused to consider why. The display now showed a male of her own species, Wildcat Bill, romping with two simian females. Wildcat’s mane was mussed and his golden skin flushed red with exertion, but his canines flashed undaunted and his enormous cock bounced proud and straining.

  Another one who put on a good show. Though Neeri was oddly uninterested in her own species. Too ordinary, the males always so fixated on dominance. Ignoring a wistful urge to check on a certain sapphire-colored resident, Neeri settled in her seat to enjoy Wildcat’s act.

  *******

  Adin measured the small room with his stride, trying to drain himself of anxious energy. The mating burn was building again, as he’d known it would, and he almost hated the need crawling through his insides. He wanted to search for Ocen once more, but the fiasco with the droid had agitated him. His mental and physical states were too chaotic to allow the telepathic effort.

  And he was hungry. For more than a warm body to shove his meat into. He wasn’t sure why they hadn’t fed and watered him as usual but it was taking its toll, thirst and hunger yet another annoying distraction.

  When he felt a change in the pressure of the room, he lifted his head hopefully, but the shelf of food still didn’t appear. In its place a small gray figure eased through the front wall then stood quietly regarding him.

  He scowled and folded his arms across his chest in obvious rejection. Whatever his abductors wished of him, he wanted no part in it.

  “You are Ophidian?” the creature spoke, both out loud and in his mind, causing a curious doubling, resonating effect. Its mental voice was just as clear and steady as its verbal one, suggesting telepathy was natural for it.

  I am, he answered, studying the being warily. He’d never seen a species like this before, though it had common enough features—bipedal with two arms, a torso and single cranium, two eyes and a mouth. But it was entirely gray with unformed features, like a clay figure waiting for the artist’s vision. What are you?

  “I am a metamorph. I can alter my appearance. Would you prefer this…?” The gray skin rippled, hardening into the gleam of scales, and its body elongated, ridges forming in its skull, limbs taking on a sinuous elegance Adin recognized before it was finished.

  No! He held up a hand and the being halted its transformation into yet another Ophidian female.

  “No?” The creature’s form melted back into a gray template. “You do not want to be with one of your own?”

  They have already made a mockery of my kind, he answered bitterly. I will not allow you to repeat it. Leave!

  It tilted its head, strange unfinished eyes studying him. Then it turned to look up at a front corner of the room. “He is hungry and thirsty,” the being said, verbal voice oddly diminished and flat without its mental accompaniment. “Please send sustenance.”

  When the being looked back down, it began to morph slowly, skin smoothing into a sheen and depth like a pearl, eyes darkening and refracting as if filling with a deep ocean. Its limbs thinned and curved into a feminine shape, long tendrils growing from its head and swaying like sea grass in an ocean current.

  “I have no wish to mock you. Will you sit and talk with me?”

  Adin inspected this new form with lingering bitterness and cynicism. Is this supposed to entice me? What creature are you pretending to be?

  “Someone I loved and is lost to me. Will you sit?”

  Adin shifted in place, arms falling to his sides as he searched the expression on this new female face. Eons of sadness and patience. It made him feel small and limited. Swallowing hard, he wavered then made a diffident gesture for her to join him as he eased to the back wall. He activated the bed, the only seat in the cell.

  Are you a prisoner as well?

  She moved toward him, limbs flowing like water. He watched, reluctantly fascinated. He didn’t desire her but he’d been mostly erect before she’d even stepped into the room. Her silky grace made his cocks twitch and triggered a primitive curiosity about her anatomy. The fire in his gut tightened a notch and he frowned, looking away as they sat side by side.

  “You may call me Shelayle. May I know your name?”

  His frown deepened. She hadn’t answered his question. I am called Adin Til Beltak Shrivket. Are you one of them?

  She was silent and he turned his head to look at her warily. She’d weaved willowy fingers together in her lap and now stared down at them, sadness so heavy on her features they seemed to sag. “I am…not one of them. I remain, because I have nowhere else to go and I am of use here.”

  Where is here? What is this place? What do they want? Why was I captured?

  Her sorrow lifted into a smile as she raised her head to gaze at him with those dark ocean eyes. “So many questions. I can’t explain the program. I don’t fully understand it myself. They seem to be looking for interspecies compatibility but I do not know why.”

  Who are they? Why do they treat us this way?

  “I suspect if I knew the answers I would not be allowed to participate. My understanding would corrupt my responses.” She smirked, as if her words amused her.

  Adin was not amused. He found nothing remotely humorous about this situation. Why? Why would you want to participate? He knew his mental tone was rude, but he didn’t care. This creature actually chose to be here, to assist his captors in their strange program. That was repulsive enough, but the idea that she’d been given the choice infuriated him.

  “I only want to help. I seem uniquely qualified as a metamorph to do so. This angers you.”

  I do not want to be kept like an animal in a cage.

  Instead of responding, she rose and glided toward the front wall. A shelf had appeared while she’d distracted him. She lifted the tray of food and drink and brought it to him. She offered the tray silently and he took it with an aggravated hiss. He was hungry. He had to eat, to drink, though it made him feel as though he was giving in to them on some level.

  She sat beside him again, waiting without a word as he devoured everything on the tray. There was more than the usual amount, as if they knew the mating burn increased this appetite as well. Their knowledge of his people alarmed him.

  When he finished, he took the tray to the shelf and watched in sullen irritation as it rippled away through the wall. I wish to leave. I do not wish to participate. He
turned to face her. Tell them to let me go.

  Her sad expression was edged with pity. “They are looking only for your honest responses. It will not last forever.”

  Stepping toward her, he growled and if I refuse?

  “If you truly don’t desire it, they won’t force you.” Then her gaze dropped to his groin where his three traitorous cocks surged to his heartbeat. “But you are in need. Won’t you let me help you?”

  With a sibilant snarl, he ignored the eager response in his straining cocks and turned to pace the room again. What do you desire? I suspect it is not me, he said with sardonic emphasis, raking a pointed glance over her chosen form.

  She dropped her gaze to her lap and twined her fingers together again. “I loved her, but she could not abide any other species. She would not have me and she is gone. I feel your need and distress as though it is my own. I wish only to bring us both peace and pleasure.”

  Adin slowed to a stop, staring at her bend head with a sudden flash of unsettling insight. She wasn’t staying to help the program or the subjects—she was staying to bury her own pain and loss. He felt his anger slipping under a wave of sympathy. Your reasons aren’t so selfless, he countered, but gently.

  She raised her gaze to his, eyes like a dark whirlpool, sucking him in. “We each have a need. Is it so wrong to ease those needs together?”

  Yes, when it is not my choice.

  She rose, facing him steadily. “So choose. Tell me to go or tell me to stay.”

  She could have touched him and it would have all been over. The mating burn was an itch in his skin, a fire in his belly, a grinding ache in his groin. She might not even need to touch, just come close enough for him to feel her heat, to taste her scent. But she didn’t. She waited and let him choose with his thinking mind instead of his rutting body.

  Adin sighed, undone by the patient sorrow in her borrowed features and the deep longing he felt pooling inside her. If she’d been the empty droid, he could have sent her away. But he felt what she wanted, what she needed, and the imperative to please and sate a female was stamped into his very being. His culture and continuation of his species was based on it. He couldn’t deny who he was, even in these unsavory circumstances.