Jago drew her closer to him and ringed her waist with his arms. “We fuck.”
A shiver went down the full length of her spine and her sensitive pussy clenched. She swallowed hard. “Just that?”
“That’s all we need.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. “Just you. So stay fit. Don’t get into trouble. We’ll be back and then you’ll wish you’d taken the time to relax.”
Kriss whispered into her ear, “The Hunger is coming.”
* * *
The walk along the fringe of the lake was pleasantly restful. Above her head, the sun warmed her hair and its yellow rays cast shadows amongst the bushes and trees. The expansive lake was tinged with a blueness and lapped gently, as if influenced by a tide. There were three moons orbiting Odesta, so it was possible. In the distance were the gigantic towers of the city, the central hub for the region, known as the Lakeland City.
The city was where the workers lived away from the soldiers; the latter were granted the prize of lakeside houses. The warriors were given human gifts for their bravery, while those deemed not suitable for fighting were rewarded for their stamina with other benefits, such as a few sessions with a sexdroid when the Hunger came calling. Or, they could buy food that tasted special, unlike the free stuff that Shayla considered so bland it was like eating cardboard.
The first house she encountered was shuttered. She guessed the occupants were away on a campaign, probably on another planet that Hezara controlled or fighting the Violence. She was starting to see Hezara as some kind of galactic security force who arrived uninvited and took over, insisting only they had the ability to see off the Violence of the Beasts. She shivered, wondering what horrors the Beasts perpetuated that granted a militaristic species the authority to oversee the safety of other planets.
The next house was in the shade of palm trees. No shutters. Using the shadows as cover, she crept along the path until she was a short distance away from the curved window that overlooked the lake. She could make out most of the main living space. The house was occupied; she saw movement. There were men inside and what looked like a woman, except it wasn’t an ordinary woman. It had to be a sexdroid.
Crouching down, Shayla hid behind a few fronds of a low shrub and watched. She couldn’t help herself. The voyeurism was necessary; she had to find out more about the sexdroids.
There were four men. Four nestors. Like her heart twins, they shared features of the common mother, the queen of their incubator, but they also had differences in hair and height. All four of them were naked and as they circled around the room and came closer to the glass, she spotted their immense erections. Just like Jago and Kriss, their cocks were illuminated and colorful; all of theirs though were green, not purple.
The sexdroid came into view. She had the features of a female: generous breasts, a visible pubic slit, and two buttocks that parted as she bent. Shayla caught sight of her opening—it was wide and perfectly round. Her breasts didn’t hang when she bent over, they remained firm and shaped. It was then that Shayla noticed the real differences. The nipples were larger than Shayla’s, the waist was narrowed so that a man could span his hands around it easily. The buttocks were ample to the point they were an exaggeration and the legs ridiculously long.
The droid also had no separate toes. Or belly button, which wasn’t a surprise really—the nestors didn’t either. Her hair was gathered into one ponytail and as the sunlight caught her head, Shayla noted her scalp was hairless except for that artificial ponytail, which seemed more like an implant. Her eyebrows were thin lines, her lips molded into a circular pout. The throat lacked the definition of veins or sinews, and her ears were flat against the side of her head as if sewn back. The more Shayla saw of the sexdroid, the more it was apparent she was a machine, a construct that lacked the necessary features of a living creature. She wouldn’t need to breathe and wouldn’t be able to feel the quickening of a pulse. There would be no adrenaline rush or heightened sensations. The sexdroid was a performer, a robot.
When she bent over, her hands pressed flat to the floor in a fluid movement, and then without preamble, the first nestor in the house rammed his cock into her. There was no reaction from the plastic sexdroid, no visible tensing of muscles or expression of discomfort or pleasure. Shayla wished she could hear what they said, but the house was soundproof.
She watched mesmerized as the man, who had black hair and a pointed nose, pounded his sexdroid. He reached beneath and crushed her breasts into his hands. Another man lifted her head with the ponytail and thrust into her open mouth. No tears, no gagging. One after the other, they took turns to fuck her pussy from behind and her mouth, never letting her take a break. She didn’t need one, of course. She didn’t have to catch her breath or quench her thirst.
The men’s cocks grew bigger, swelling further and the threads in their cocks shone bright green. A few times, they wiped the sweat from each other’s brows, slapped each other’s backs or pumped with their fists as if to egg each other on.
Shayla was enthralled and terrified. This was the Hunger in action: relentless fucking. All manner of dark thoughts flooded into her mind. She wanted to know what it felt like to be taken over and over, to be handed from one man to the next. She couldn’t stop the tantalizing images flashing through her mind. But, at the same time, she felt sorry for the droid, even if the thing couldn’t feel pain or emotions. The men wanted her to act real, and the droid couldn’t. She was only as good as her programming. From that sympathy rose the anxiety. There was no way Shayla could cope with this level of sexual frenzy.
The men stopped, stood the droid upright and fingered her, as if to check she was still functional. She smiled at them, saying something. One man shrugged and shook his head. He picked up a device, a small box and fiddled with it. The smile vanished from the droid’s face and she went stiff, as if switched off. The man flicked a button and she reanimated, this time without the smile. The artificial eyes widened into white pools of alarm, as if she had been told to be afraid, and she stretched her hands above her head. From out of the ceiling lowered two linked chains and on the ends were cuffs.
They bound her wrists and the chains lifted her up onto her tiptoes. Shayla struggled to watch as they prepared her for more of their fun.
“She’s not real,” she said to herself, as if it might reassure her.
They were taking her anally, and given the positioning of two men next to each other, both of them at the same time. The men’s faces were ecstatic. Shayla’s heart was in her mouth. This was nothing like the videos she watched on Earth. After all the men had their time with the droid, they released her bonds. Shayla had witnessed not only the boundless energy of the nestors, but the droid, which needed no respite or comfort. She also noted they didn’t bother to bathe or soothe her—it. There was nothing feminine left when stripped down to an object.
When they snapped their fingers, it jumped onto all fours and crawled onto one man who lay flat on the floor. It mounted his upright cock, then it was swiftly taken from behind and its mouth, too. Triple penetration with apparent ease and no resistance. Only one man stood watching, a large cup in one hand, his cock in the other. The man was milking himself and emptying the spillage into the glass container. He’d achieved his goal, but the others seemed far from finished.
How long... she dared not think about it. The Hunger lasted hours, she’d been told. Hours of this? There was no possible way even with two nestors she could take this amount of fucking.
She backed away, crawling through the bushes until she was sure it was safe to stand. Once on her feet, she ran back to her house. Why, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t running away from anyone, and if she was running to somebody, it would be her heart twins and an unknown fate. It was crazy to think they might understand her concerns. They were expecting her to submit to them and now that she knew what they expected, she wondered if they would demand her obedience too.
There was only one thing she could do to placate her fears for the future: discover the truth about the nestors, incubators and the queens, determine how much they really needed her, which meant following her father’s request and finding the courage to interact with the oracle.
* * *
She stared at the shiny globe of the oracle and weighed up the pros and cons of touching it. She’d only been with the nestors a day and already she was risking everything. What if it was booby trapped and an alarm went off somewhere—who would come running? Or maybe it was rigged to only respond to certain palm prints. Then, if it let her touch it, what if she couldn’t interact with it? She was human and her brain probably functioned different to the planet’s inhabitants. Was it like speaking different languages?
There was so much that could go wrong, which probably meant it wasn’t going to work anyway. So... go for it.
She eased herself into the chair—the oracle was on a pedestal—and held out both of her hands. Were one or two hands required? Her heart pounded as she inched her fingers closer. Something like static, a tingle of electricity, tickled her palms. She snatched her hands back. Would it hurt her?
Chewing on her lip, she approached the globe again. Slightly smaller than a soccer ball, the span of her hands didn’t quite encompass its circumference. The tingling intensified, but it wasn’t painful, merely disconcerting. How to ask questions of a telepathic computer? Was it like the interfaces on Earth where you shouted a question and it provided an answer in a somewhat arrogant tone of voice? What question should she frame?