UNIT 78: RESCUED (CyBRG Files Book 2)

  “The Breeding Chamber,” Rich finished for her, grimacing. “Goddamn it. What is wrong with you people?”

  “We are only trying to spread the light of Tr’Low and his breeding wisdom throughout the galaxy.” Sister Yancy folded her hands over her black robes piously. “Now, will you come and administer the antidote to our queen yourself…or must we let a lesser male do it?”

  Her eyes fell on the still-scowling Father Tr’Ayer and then flicked down the corridor, to where a company of breeding males had gathered, eyeing Kyrin hungrily.

  Kyrin wondered dully if they could smell her heat the way they scented it on the other fertile females. Then another stabbing pain struck between her legs and she couldn’t hold back the whimper of agony that rose in her throat as she doubled over.

  “Kyrin? Sweetheart?” Bending down, Rich scooped her into his arms and cuddled her close to his broad chest.

  “Please,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Please don’t let…anyone else have me. Please, Rich.”

  “Of course not.” His grip on her tightened until it was almost painful but Kyrin welcomed the distraction. Anything was better than concentrating on the searing emptiness she felt inside—the black hole of need that seemed to have opened between her thighs.

  “Please,” she whispered, shifting restlessly in his arms. “Please, I need…need…”

  She didn’t know how to put her need into words, but Rich seemed to understand her. He dropped his head to hers, hiding his mouth in her hair as he whispered in her ear.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart—everything is going to be okay. I’m going to give you what you need and then we’re going to get out of here. Okay?”

  Kyrin was desperately afraid they were never getting out but she had no choice but to trust him.

  “All right,” she whispered but her words ended in a whimper of pain. “Please,” she gasped again, looking up at him. “Please, Rich, I need you. Need you…inside me.”

  He cursed softly under his breath but his actions were gentle when he kissed her forehead.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured to her. “I’m going to give you what you need. I swear it.”

  Then he raised his head and glared at Sister Yancy.

  “All right,” he growled. “Take us to the fucking Breeding Chamber.”

  Chapter Eight

  Rich strode through the corridors of the breeding compound, Kyrin held securely in his arms. He snarled at the nuns and breeding males they passed, his temper at breaking point. When they were done here and he’d gotten her away to safety, he was coming back and killing every last motherfucking one of them. He’d bring fire and retribution down on them from orbit and make them rue the day they’d ever heard the name Tr’Low.

  “In here, metal man,” Yancy ordered, sweeping another set of gauzy drapes aside and hurrying down a large set of wide steps.

  “Fuck you,” Rich snarled, his voice tinged with worry as Kyrin cried out in pain again. He dropped his voice to reassure her. “Not long now, sweetheart. Just hold on a little longer.”

  The breeding chamber was an amphitheater. He sucked a breath in as he registered the setup on the stage at the bottom of the steps, surrounded by low, wide seating. Even now the seats had begun to fill with Tr’Low’s devotees. Sick bastards.

  “Please… Rich…” Kyrin whimpered again and he redoubled his speed, barging past Yancy at the bottom of the steps.

  “Do not be in such a hurry, metal man.” Suddenly the Tr’Low nun was at his elbow. “Your breeding will do no good unless you take the antidote to the Lust Serum.”

  She held out a narrow glass vial filled to the top with a fizzing blue liquid. It looked more like some kind of industrial strength cleaner than an antidote to Rich, but he raised it to his lips anyway.

  “That is right—drink deeply, metal man.” Sister Yancy’s eyes glowed with fanatical glee. “Not only will this mixture increase the motility of your sperm, it will also cause the queen’s womb to open for your seed.”

  “Just shut up and let me drink it,” Rich growled and downed the foaming blue stuff in one gulp. It tasted foul—like salt and motor oil—but if it was the only way to save Kyrin, what choice did he have?

  “Good…good.” Sister Yancy nodded, watching avidly as he drank the last drop and tossed the vial away. “Now your body will have time to metabolize the antidote while you strap the queen into place on the breeding altar.” She pointed to the center of the stage.

  “While I what?”

  Rich turned to see what she was pointing at and recoiled in disgust as he reached the “breeding altar.” It was little more than a piece of bondage equipment—a metal frame with black leather straps to hold the woman unfortunate enough to be placed upon it in place.

  “What the fuck is that?” he demanded. “I’m not putting her in that thing.”

  “You must! The queen must be restrained!” Yancy announced. She came forward, as though to start strapping Kyrin to the “altar” herself.

  “Touch her and fucking die,” Rich’s snarl was low and full of menace, stopping the nun in her tracks. She turned a wide-eyed expression toward him.

  “Surely you don’t want to see your queen suffer?” the nun demanded. “The breeding fever will make her thrash and hurt herself. It is better she is restrained.”

  He clenched his jaw, feeling the tiny muscle in the corner tick with sheer fury. The situation was far too close to bondage for his liking.

  “Please, Rich,” Kyrin gasped, her back arched as she moaned again. “I trust you…”

  She trusted him. The words and their meaning slammed into him. He hadn’t managed to get her out of here yet, but still she trusted him. Him—a half-metal monstrosity.

  It’s the drugs, the unwelcome little voice in the back of his head chimed in. She’s desperate for cock and you’re just a handy piece of meat.

  He ignored it, holding her gaze with his as he reached for the straps by her head. “Keep looking at me,” he ordered softly. “Just me, nothing else. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, sweetheart.”

  Reaching for her hand, he kissed her palm and then her wrist before gently pulling it over her head and clasping it in place with the thick leather cuff. He did the same with the other, his kisses gentle as he ignored the hiss of gas being released from the base of the altar. His cybernetic systems pinged warnings but he silenced them.

  He had to do this—it was the only way to save her.

  “Her nectar needs to be released!” Yancy commanded, reaching for his shirt, which Kyrin still wore.

  “Fucking touch her and die!” His snarl was enough to stop the nun in her tracks again, sudden fear in her eyes as she read her own death in the big cyborg’s eyes.

  Yeah, get with the program, bitch, he mentally snarled. Sow the wind and you’ll reap nothing but a whirlwind of death and destruction.

  “The nectar needs to flow and mix with your seed as you fill her, injecting her with the antidote to the Lust Serum,” Yancy said, recovering her voice. “Or she will die.”

  Fuckers. Could they have heaped anymore depravity on their victims? Because he was under no illusion—the women they used as breeders were victims of the highest order. He added more death and destruction to his mental list of vengeance.

  Reaching out, he altered the construction of one of his metal fingers, releasing a blade from the inside. Hooking it inside the neck of his shirt, he sliced down the center, baring Kyrin’s curvy body.

  She gasped in relief as the fabric fell away from her full breasts, the sodden washcloths pulling away with it. As he watched, the nectar oozed thickly from her nipples, flowing down her body in a thick vee toward the apex of her thighs.

  “Please…” she begged again, parting her thighs restlessly. Inviting his touch. No, begging for his touch. He soothed her with soft murmurs as he lifted her legs and locked her ankles into place. Heat hit him, his cock throbbing and stiff as a flagpole, as he looked at the sig
ht she presented—face up and spread eagle, open on the altar in front of him like an offering to a pagan god. He shied away from that thought, given the pseudo-religious crap the breeders were peddling.

  “Now! She must be bred now!” Yancy cried in excitement as the nectar dripped down between Kyrin’s pussy lips.

  “Look at me, sweetheart,” he murmured as he moved into place between her thighs. “Keep your eyes on me. I’ll make this good for you. I promise.”

  Reaching down between them, he ran his fingers between her pussy lips, testing that she was ready to take him. He was built on the big side, more than a few partners inflating his ego about the size of his… equipment. But since his cyberization, all that ego had been stripped away, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He would never hurt her.

  His eyes widened a little as the nectar coated his fingers, working with her natural wetness to create a sort of lube. All the clues clicked into place. That was the other reason for the stuff. Collecting as much of the nectar as he could, he teased the entrance to her body, easing two thick digits inside to prepare her for him.

  “Breed her!” Yancy demanded. “Now!”

  “I’ll do it when I’m goddamn good and ready,” he snarled back, cords standing out in his neck as he worked Kyrin’s tight little pussy, pressing his thumb against her clit. It was taking everything he had not to just ram his cock inside her, burying himself balls deep as she clenched around him. What the fuck was wrong with him? Where had this feral need come from?

  All he knew was that she was his. To take, to claim… to fill with his seed.

  Grimly, he shook his head and tried to clear the thoughts that drove him. She was slick and wet, ready for him as he pumped his fingers into her sweet little pussy. The wet sound of his fingers in her wet folds drove him to distraction and he pulled his hand free only rip the front of his trousers open. His cock sprang free, slapping against her hairless mons, and she whimpered, bucking her hips up toward him in wanton invitation.

  “Please, Rich,” she begged brokenly, her pupils dilated with lust and need. “Oh Goddess, please. I need you so badly!”

  “Need you too, sweetheart.” And it was true—his own lust had turned into an overpowering need to be inside her. Rich wasn’t sure if it was the gas that surrounded him or something in the fizzing blue antidote he had taken that his systems weren’t able to filter out, but for whatever reason, he literally felt like he would die if he couldn’t fuck her. Was this how those poor bastards, the breeding males, felt all the time? If so, Rich pitied them. His hand shook as he fit the head of his cock against the slick entrance to her body.

  Kyrin cried out, her back arching as he pressed against her. He pushed in a little and her pussy yielded, then clamped around him as soon as he was even partly inside her. The pleasure was intense, making his jaw clench as he was captured in her velvet sheath. His hips had a mind of their own, bucking forward despite his best attempts to stop them, driving him deeper inside her with each movement.

  “The breeding fever is upon them!” Sister Yancy cried out. “Praise be to Tr’Low!”

  “Praise be to Tr’Low!” the audience chanted.

  Rich ignored them, his hands braced either side of Kyrin’s head as he pushed the last half of his shaft into her tight sheath… and then, finally, he was buried to the hilt inside her. It was utter heaven, short-circuiting his brain, his cock throbbing deep in her tight cunt as his balls pressed against her ass.

  She was… perfect. Being inside her was like coming home.

  The feeling settled into the center of his chest, next to the heart he’d been sure had died with his human half. Maybe it had, but now it beat for her and her alone.

  “Kyrin,” he muttered hoarsely. “God, sweetheart, you feel so good around me!”

  His answer was a soft whimper of need as she bucked against him, as though trying to get his shaft deeper into her. Her eyes were glazed now. There was no conscious thought left in them. They were filled with the need to feel him fucking her. The need to feel him breeding her.

  The Breeding Fever, he thought, his hands tightening around her full hips. God, it has me too! Need her so much…can’t stop…

  “Breed! Breed! Breed!” the crowd chanted. It was as though the fever had infected them all—everyone in the room was willing him on, willing him to fuck her and fill her with his seed.

  Rich closed his eyes as his hips bucked back, trying to hold onto what was left of his reason as he surged forward again. He had to keep control! He didn’t want to hurt her—he shouldn’t even be doing this! Aside from his promise to her father, what would Kyrin think if she was capable of rational thought right now? Would she welcome a cyborg—a half metal monster—between her thighs? Or would she shy away from him and turn away?

  The questions were moot, all of them. There was no past or future in the Breeding Chamber, there was only the present and the need he felt coming from Kyrin—the need to be fucked and filled. The need to be bred.

  God, she was so tight…

  Closing his eyes, Rich thrust forward again and lost himself in her.

  Kyrin was no longer Kyrin. She was nothing but a creature of lust and ravenous needs. Needs that were finally being met by the thick shaft pounding inside her.

  “Yes!” she heard herself moaning as the big cyborg’s cock thrust relentlessly inside her. Goddess, he was so big, stretching her inner walls to the limit with each brutal stroke. She pressed forward as much as the restraints would allow her to, trying to meet and match his rhythm—trying to get more of him inside her.

  Her pleasure mounted every time the head of his shaft stroked home insider her, giving the mouth of her womb a rough kiss…a promise of things to come.

  His seed…need his seed inside me…need him to fill me…breed me…

  The thoughts in her head didn’t even sound like hers. They were more instinct than rational thought—the emotions of an animal in heat, forced by biology and a cycle beyond her control to offer herself to the rutting male.

  Only it isn’t a cycle and it isn’t natural—this need is being caused by the drugs, Kyrin!

  The voice of reason—of the person she had been before—tried to intrude but she didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to do anything but be fucked and filled with seed.

  “Breed her! Breed her!”

  Dimly she was aware of the chanting crowd and even more dimly she knew she would want to die of shame if this was happening while she was in her right mind. She’d always been a private person. The idea that a whole amphitheater full of people were watching her participate in this intimate act ought to be intolerable—mortifying.

  But she had no shame left. She had only need.

  “Please!” she heard herself moaning. “Please, come in me! I need your seed inside me—please!”

  Her words seemed to do something to the big male who was breeding her. His pace increased and the look on his face was one of intense lust and need.

  “God, sweetheart, shouldn’t do this,” he growled, even as his pace increased. “I swore I wouldn’t but there’s no other way. Can’t…help it!”

  As he spoke the last word, he rammed himself home inside her and Kyrin felt his already thick shaft swell even thicker. The head of his cock was planted firmly against the end of her channel and his hands on her hips were bruisingly tight.

  With a groan that sounded like her name, the big cyborg held still inside her as he began to come. As spurt after hot spurt bathed the mouth of her womb, Kyrin felt his orgasm triggering her own.

  A cry burst from her lips as a wave of pleasure washed over her, almost overwhelming in its intensity. At the same time, she felt something happening inside her. It was almost as though a second mouth had opened deep in her body—a mouth eager to suck the shaft invading her…a mouth thirsty to drink all the seed the big male was pumping deep in her pussy.

  Filling me, he’s filling me up…planting his seed directly in my womb, she thought deliriously and t
hen pleasure overcame her again, so strongly this time that everything went gray and dim and she fainted.

  When she came to, she was no longer out of her head with lust and Rich had unstrapped her from the metal and leather platform where she had been held. Strong arms supported her instead and someone was patting her cheek and calling her name anxiously.

  “Kyrin? Sweetheart? Are you okay? God, I didn’t mean to be so rough…I’m so damn sorry!”

  “Rich?” Her eyelids fluttered open and she saw the concern on his face.

  “Thank God,” he said, his voice harsh with relief. “How do you feel? Are you, uh, back with me?”

  Kyrin wanted to ask what he meant but suddenly she knew. She hadn’t been thinking clearly at all before he…well, before he’d done what had to be done. Now, however, it was as though her fever had broken after a long illness and she finally felt like herself again. She was weak as a kitten from Old Earth but at least she could think again.

  “Rich?” she whispered. “What…how…?”

  “Gonna get you out of here, sweetheart,” he muttered. “For good this time. There’s no way they can stop us.”

  “But how?” Kyrin looked around at the sea of eager faces still staring at them from the auditorium. “They have blasters and there are so many of them!”

  “I’m hooked into all their systems.” He spoke so softly she could barely hear him, keeping his lips near her ear. “In just a minute it’s going to get really dark in here, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered. She still felt woozy and uncertain. She was glad he was holding her in his arms instead of asking her to run as he had before. She felt too weak to stand, let alone run for her life.

  “Now then, metal man,” Sister Yancy’s braying voice cut abruptly into her thoughts. The nun had been sitting in the audience with the rest of the watchers, but now she was coming toward the stage, a stern look on her face. “Since you are finished breeding the queen, you may let her go.”