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Captive: A Dark Cyborg Romance Page 6
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Those loose panels I spotted when I first got here are my first port of call. I can’t be sure where they lead to, or what’s behind them, but with the pipes running behind them, they have to go somewhere.
I scurry around behind the bath and get down on my knees, prying at the cold metal with my soft fingers. The position puts more pressure on my bottom than I like as I bend, soft spanked skin protesting at the motion.
The pain only motivates me. How dare he spank me? And not even a little warning tap either, a full-on thrashing that made me nearly break down entirely. He of all people should know what it feels like to be helpless and hit. He hasn’t taught me a lesson. All he’s done is bruised my ego and lit a fire in me to get the hell out of here, not just for my own freedom, but as a lesson to him.
The panels are fastened by a few screws. That’s no problem. I can get them out, it’s just going to take a little time. He must have left this panel loose so he could get to the pipes if he needed. Good idea if you’re trying to keep the water flowing, not so good when you have an angry captive looking for a way out.
I have to work slowly though. The sound of metal on metal is pretty distinctive, and I know that I’m probably going to have to work in stages. Just getting the screws loose is a good start for now. Even though I’m working at them with a bit of steel I found not too far away, slowly and carefully, making sure not to strip the thread, the tiny little noises make me hold my breath. If he catches me, I know I’ll be in a world of pain.
* * *
Adam
She’s trying to get out. The scrabbling sounds like a little mouse working at a metal wall are easily audible. I smile to myself and let her work on the little bits of metal. They will entertain her for a while, but I know all too well that behind them is nothing but hard rock in all directions. She may get a foot or two past the wall I constructed, but no further.
Those panels are loose on purpose. In my captivity, I learned something about the world. I watched how I responded to being caged, and I knew that she would not feel any different.
You cannot hold life in prison for long. It hurls itself against the boundaries until it finds a way out. That is why I’m giving her a place to direct her frustration, her need to escape. Soon we will be truly free, but not yet. Right now, we are in the most danger we have ever been. We are being hunted and hiding is the safest option.
There are sufficient supplies down here to live for several months. Six I would imagine at the very least. We will need our entertainment in that time. All our needs will have to be met if we are not to lose our minds.
I will be her lover, her captor. I will be her enemy and her ally. I will be her world, and she will be mine. So for now, I watch the sensors I placed before our retreat, and I listen to her working at the walls.
My hearing is far better than she realizes, so I hear her cursing and muttering to herself, her little gasps of discovery and groans of annoyance. I imagine that she will tire herself out, have a bath, and come and pretend she didn’t spend the day trying to flee me. I will pretend I don’t know, and the little game will go on as long as it needs to. That doesn’t mean I don’t intend to have fun with her, little minx that she is. I just finished spanking her, hard enough for tears to come to her eyes, and this is what she immediately chooses to do? Safe to say she hasn’t learned even the semblance of a lesson.
After an hour or so of listening to her furtive and utterly futile attempts at escape, I stand up and make a sound loud enough for her to hear, as if I am coming into the room. The scuffling intensifies for a second and then ceases and is followed by a loud and what sounds like a rather large splash.
I walk in, just to see what she is doing. To my immense amusement, she is in the bath. Fully clothed. Including her boots.
I pretend not to notice the bent panel just barely slid into place, focusing my attention on the sullen woman floating amid a pile of wet fabric in the bath that must be cold by now.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she lies.
I have not found much in the way of amusement since coming to life on the slab in Ascent’s laboratories. I don’t know if I have laughed even once. But humor comes bubbling up in me, a feeling strange and yet so compelling I cannot resist it. It feels new and yet old, light and perfect.
A sound of mirth escapes me as I am taken by humor, moved to make deep rumbling noises that emerge in barking laughter. She is the most ridiculous, rebellious, adorable little thing in the world and I love her, even though I know I am going to have to whip her rear so hard she can’t sit.
“Get out of the bath before you give yourself pneumonia,” I say. “You don’t have the kind of tolerances for cold you need to tolerate that for long.”
“I’m fine,” she insists stubbornly. “This is what I wanted.”
She is a ridiculous liar.
“You wanted a cold bath in your clothing,” I repeat her words. “And you expect me to believe that?”
“What else is there to believe?” She lifts her chin to prove something, but all it proves is that her skin is pale and her teeth are starting to chatter from the cold. The water in the bath is freezing. Enough of this. My amusement is rapidly fading as her ridiculousness attempt to lie to me starts to become a serious danger to her.
“Out. Now.”
“No.”
I have no choice but to wade into the water, grasp her by her stubborn arm and pull her out, rivulets running from her clothing, making her twice her usual weight, but still nothing to me. She kicks and wriggles and complains as I strip the skirt from her and leave it floating in the water like a large pale flower. Her wet top follows suit, the boots as well of course. I pull her chilled, naked body to mine and carry her over to where I have stacked a row of towels.
“You would rather freeze than admit defeat? Is that it?” I give her a little shake as she trembles in my grasp. I put her on her feet and rub her all over, wiping the cold water from her pretty form. She is stunning in so many ways, and if she were obedient… my cock hardens at the sight of her, and the idea of her being broken to my will.
“Defeat? You haven’t defeated me yet.”
She’s right. I haven’t. I’ve been too soft with her, too concerned with her feelings. Even when I punished her still blushing bottom, I held back. She needs more from me. She needs the full ferocity of my desire and my possession. And she will get it.
I drop the towel and push my fingers between her thighs. Her skin is cool, but her lower lips are warm and the pads of my fingers find a wetness that does not come from the water.
Her little moan betrays the hand that slides down, first to wrap around my wrist, then to push away, but not hard enough to actually make me move. I let out a little growl and reach my spare hand around her, grabbing the back of her hair as I push two fingers into her wet, willful pussy. She tries to squirm away, tries to hide her eyes from mine, but I hold her still and force her to confront her feelings and my own.
Her tight inner walls clench my fingers, and I see what I need to in her eyes—the desire, not just for sex, but for the same thing I want and need. She needs to be broken just as badly as I need to break her.
A metallic, animal growl escapes me. Oh, I will conquer this woman. I will make sure she knows to her very core who she belongs to. The animal in me has taken over now and it will not be denied.
With my fingers deep in her naughty pussy, I push her back toward the bath that still laps with frigid water to the brim. She makes a small yelping sound as her bottom pushes against the cold metal of the edge, but she doesn’t have long to complain about that because my foot is between her legs, kicking them wide as my hand slides to her throat, cradling her neck.
With her head under control, my fingers piston inside her pussy, the flat of my hand smacking against her clit. I am pleasuring her and punishing her at the same time. Holding her right by the scene of her crime as her legs tremble, threatening to buckle under the sensation against her
sex.
“Bad girl,” I growl. “Disobedient, bratty, bad little girl.”
She lets out a wail as I keep her in place against the bath, her legs spread wide, my fingers fucking her hard and fast as she cries out, her eyes wide with an erotic fever that makes her entire body flush pink. I am going to fuck her. Hard. I am going to take her so she knows she has been taken completely. The little spanking I gave her just before is going to be nothing compared to what I do to her now. My cock is thick and throbbing, my body is charged with masculine dominance. She is mine, dammit. Mine.
* * *
Lilly
The moment he thrust his fingers inside me I knew I was in trouble. He was rough, but it didn’t hurt because I was wet, soaked with arousal that had been growing from the moment he spanked me, and only intensified as I was working my way out of this trap. I love defying him. Even when I’m angry at him, and even when I want to flee him, my thoughts are only of him.
Now his hand is at my neck, the other at my pussy, pounding hard fingers inside me as his eyes burn dark fire into mine.
“Bad girl,” he growls, pulling me forward before turning me around and pushing me down over the edge of the bath. His large hand comes down against the back of my head, forcing my body down so that the tips of my breasts, my sensitive nipples are bitten by the cold embrace of the water.
Before I can complain, he shoves the hard, broad length of his cock inside me. No warning, just a rough thrust that sears all the way to the mouth of my womb, my soft wet sex giving way to him without resistance.
He pounds my pussy, just as he did the night before, the water rippling across the bath as my nipples are repeatedly bathed in frigid fluid. I gasp and writhe, my lips inches from the surface where I see my features reflected, the wideness of my eyes, the O of my mouth as he takes me roughly and without any regard for the sore state of my pussy. This is the third time he has used me in twelve hours, and I can feel the effects of three rough matings running together.
My moans become whimpers and my whimpers become whines as he keeps fucking me with that mechanical lack of mercy. My body is here to please him, my tight sex is his to use. My pleasure is not the aim. He is breeding me, seeding me.
His hand slides from my hair to my elbow, his other hand catching the other arm the same way as he arches me up from the bath and fucks me from behind in a half-standing position, his cock sawing deep inside me, jolting me up to my toes over and over.
I can feel the futility of the sheer idea of escape washing through me. There’s no escaping a creature like this. This thick cock plunging in and out of me is only one of a hundred things I can’t stop, even if I wanted to.
Orgasm is burning through my body. I am moaning and wailing and making sounds that better befit an animal than a woman. My inner walls clench his cock, gripping him and drawing the seed that will seal my fate deep into my bare pussy.
One hand leaves my arm, finds my ass with a rough slap, then slides up my stomach, between my breasts. His hand cups my jaw and tilts my head back, forcing me into a feminine arch, ass against his hips as he fucks me in the roughest of ways.
I come on his cock before he comes inside me, in the rush of orgasm I wail, his hard rod still sliding in and out of me, my quivering pussy gripping his cock desperately for all I am worth. But he is not done with me yet. Not by a long way.
His hands move again, roam my body, find my breasts, his fingers pinching my nipples. Sensation rushes through me, the sensitivity of orgasm making his every touch feel like fire.
Adam drags me from the bathroom and back to the couch, tossing me over the arm with a casual dominance.
“Stay.”
He doesn’t check to see if I’m staying or not, but I don’t move. I am subdued by orgasm and by some inner mechanism I don’t understand completely, something that makes me submit in the face of his dominance. I lie there, well fucked pussy on display, the cool air of the room making my sensitive lower lips tingle.
I don’t know what he has in store for me, but I don’t have to wait long to find out.
Crack!
He has pulled a belt from the closet, doubled it, and snapped it tight.
“I spanked you and you ran and sulked… leaped into a cold bath and refused to come out,” he lectures me. “You disobeyed me, acted like a little girl. But you’re a woman, and you will be punished like one.”
His arm raises high in the air, then comes down in a powerful stroke that sends the leather lashing down across my ass.
I scream out before the leather bites, and then again and louder as the thick leather lands across the center of my cheeks, a large swath of pain burning where my bottom has been previously warmed by his spanking and cooled by the bath.
“Stay,” he growls again as I show some sign of getting up.
Again the lash lands, pretty much right on top of the first stroke. I scream out, my body arching, my legs kicking in a useless attempt to rid my bottom of the pain he is inflicting. Lash after lash lands, leather biting against my tender skin, ruthless and merciless.
I thought the spanking was bad enough, but this belting is a hundred times worse. The tears I just barely cried before come in force now, running down my cheeks in rivulets. I sob against the couch as Adam beats my bottom, my faded orgasm leaving me even more sensitive to pain.
Somewhere in the midst of it, he throws the belt away and comes around behind me. He pulls my legs apart, lifts my hips and pushes inside me in one hard thrust. I scream at the intrusion, sudden pleasure rushing through the core of me. My face and eyes are not the only parts of me that are wet. My pussy is soaked. I can hear the sound of his cock sluicing inside me, my hips suspended in the air as he holds me aloft, leaving me to support myself with my arms.
Fucked like a helpless captive, rag-dolled between his powerful hands, my pussy is his to use. He thrusts roughly inside me, my pussy a willing sheath for his rod, my body captive to his will, his desire. Him.
He roars with orgasm, pumping his seed into my slit. I immediately come for a second time, screaming and writhing beneath him. He is all that is keeping me from collapsing into an orgasmic heap, his powerful hands holding my thighs up and open. His cum is bathing my womb and he is making sure it has time to sink in. I can do nothing but pant and whimper and wait for him to be done with me.
Finally he lowers my legs and his arms slide up my body, lift me up from the couch, turn me around and finally pull me into a tight embrace. I curl up against him with a little sob of relief as he murmurs soft words into my ear, words I desperately need to hear.
He tells me that I’m a good girl. That all is forgiven. He tells me that if I’m naughty again he’ll have to do it again, but he hopes he won’t have to. He holds me close and he says my name in such tender tones that I feel myself melt against his body, my eyes closing as he sits and holds me in his lap.
I nuzzle my face into his chest, I feel his warmth and hear his words and that feeling sweeps over me again, the feeling that he is a little too human. His compassion, even his ability to discipline, these are such finely refined emotional skills. How has he developed them so quickly?
The thoughts fade as he holds me, but the sense of curiosity remains. I used to be attached to the idea of Adam, horrified and guilty at what I had left him to suffer through. Now I am… impossibly, and against all odds and logic, falling in love with him.
The man who just whipped my ass and fucked me raw. The monster of a machine who rampaged out of control and took the lives of dozens. That is who I find my heart beating for. The look in his eye is tender as he brushes the still wet strands of hair from my forehead.
“You will do what you need to do,” he murmurs. “I will do what I need to do, but I will always keep you safe.”
I don’t know what he means, exactly, but there’s something in his words that gives me hope for whatever the future might bring. Against all odds, trapped in this basement lair with his seed swimming inside me and government forces hu
nting us down from the outside, I do feel safe.
But there’s something else going on behind his eyes. Something I can feel, but not quite understand. He is keeping a secret from me. Something big.
Chapter Ten
Seven days. We have been holed up in this bunker for seven days, and I am beginning to lose patience with captivity. The sex distracts me to a certain point, but even the most thorough ravaging from a cyborg can only last so long. We are like two little mice in a hole, waiting for the patient cat outside to leave us alone. Adam says the government is still searching. Says it’s still too dangerous to go out. Says it might be weeks, or even months.
“What is it, Lilly?” He sighs the question as I rumble past him dressed in a nun’s head piece and a yellow and pink polka-dot clown suit, complete with big floppy shoes.
I have been walking the perimeter of the place for hours, around and around. It is quite large in its entirety, three separate rooms, each of which is probably larger than my apartment. But I could have left my apartment at any time if I wanted to, even though I didn’t.
Now I am captive and I loathe it. I feel as though I could crawl out of my skin. The walls are oppressive. There is little in the way of fresh air.
“I need to get out of here.”
“You can’t. Sit down.”
He gives the order and expects me to obey it. He doesn’t know that I’ve been working on a way out in the little bits of time I get to myself. The solid rock walls behind his hollowed-out spaces seemed like complete obstacles at first, but I found a way up, where a space just big enough for me to slip through allows a passage through to the underfloor of the library. I’m working on cutting through the flooring to make a little hatch that I will be able to get through when I need to.