Condemned

by Cari Silverwood

When it took a step forward and swiveled its mantis head and eyes toward her, she realized a crucial point... The freaky fucking legs were no longer bolted down.

  The lovemaking proboscis, apparatus, or whatever it was, wobbled and jabbed at the floor, making a clunk as hard rubber met timber.

  “Nibbles! This is not okay!”

  Any second now a whole army of temple guards would rush in here to arrest her and dismember Nibbles.

  Seemingly oblivious to the spoken word, and she was damn sure the mouse-bot had comprehended previously, Nibbles ran up to the top of Arbo and sat down on its torso as the newly freed creature lurched forward several steps, joints squeaking.

  Then, it halted, subsiding lower with a hiss.

  The mouse-bot looked quite pleased with itself.

  Avalon stuck her hand in her mouth, sideways, and tried not to scream. This was not the best way to start her first day here. They might simply execute her.

  * * *

  When Arbo tore loose from the floor and walked, with the bolts falling from their holes, High Priest Nostrodamm almost fell from his chair. “That is, that is...”

  “Astounding!” Lesser Priest Han said.

  The Spy Room was dark and small, and most of the light came from the screen hanging above them. Lesser Priest Han stared at the footage showing on the displayer screen. The Chamber of Love was always monitored. They checked new slaves for behavior problems by observing them in the chamber.

  Since Nostrodamm seemed stuck on what to say, he dared to make a suggestion. “Shall I send in the guards, High Priest, and have her imprisoned and the mouse creature destroyed?”

  The squeakling had seemed harmless, just a mouse hybrid. Any foul excretions could be cleaned up since Arbo was fully enclosed and no inner workings could be accessed. Or so they’d thought.

  Somehow the love machine had been released to roam. It was not merely a machine then. It and the mouse thing too, perhaps, were most likely bots, that sacred device of old from before Quarantine. The mouse had made it move more than it ever had in the fifty years since it was secretly excavated from a collapsed structure.

  “That’s not just a mouse?” he said, dubious at his own statement. “And Arbo is not a simple machine?”

  “No.” The high priest seemed almost insane, his eyes wide, his mouth dribbling spittle, his long finger shaking as he pointed up at the screen. “Send no guards, yet. I have to think! Look!”

  “What is it, sir?” Han crept closer to the screen, squinting, as if that would tell him what was perturbing Nostrodamm.

  “I am not sure. I must talk to that girl and discover from whence came this mouse. I do believe it is a bot. I have never heard of one so small.”

  The shaking voice and finger, the strange reactions of the high priest, led Han to wonder if this might be his chance to dethrone his superior. He must be vigilant. Unlike some temples he could not employ the dagger to eliminate rivals, but he could use sharpened words.

  Perhaps his time was nigh.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  They’d questioned her. As Avalon had feared, they’d quickly discovered their so-called love machine had broken loose. The high priest sat her down, with Praise and another priest as backup, and he asked her many questions. Some she answered correctly, though when answering some questions concerning her mauleons she lied.

  At various times, the high priest became maniacal, jittery, and his eyes bulged. Eventually he settled.

  “Confine her to a meditation cell. Let the love machine and the mouse-bot roam freely but watch them wherever they go. Inform me of everything.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the second priest. “I will have this one cleansed of her sins. Perhaps we can still use her?”

  “Yes. We must use her. Tomorrow. Of course. At least this once. However, I do sense some unusualness to this female. Be vigilant.” He leaned in and sniffed her, then leaned back. “I am having urges and you know my inclinations. Cleanse her well.”

  “I shall, sir.” The others bowed as the high priest left. This remaining one eyed her, playing his tongue over his lips. “I too have urges. I think our deepest meditation cell for her, Sister Praise?”

  “Of course, Lesser Priest Han. It shall be done and done well.”

  The undercurrent of maliciousness in both their voices made her want to stick a fork in their eyes. Since she had no forks on her, she obeyed.

  They hustled her away down stairways and hallways, escorted by Praise as well as two guards who gave her that lustful eye she knew well. Her hormonal efsana scent must be returning. So early. It did not give her much time. They reached a poorly lit corridor and she was marched along it.

  Escaping from a cell would be difficult.

  Especially... this one.

  She turned in a circle. It was bare of anything except bedrock and concrete on the walls and ceiling, with thick bars running from top to bottom at the front. Here was a bunk bed, bolted down, and oh, yes, what lovely décor, a chain hanging from above as well as metal hooks and eyelets bolted to one wall.

  “This is one hardcore meditation cell,” she mused, loud enough for Praise to hear, hoping to annoy her for some stupid and rebellious reason.

  She’d decided she hated Praise.

  The cell door was still slid open and Praise stood in the opening, looking moderately demure with her hands clasped. Behind her the two guards were dragging forward a hose. Avalon’s stomach danced nervously. She could see what was coming and it was not a nice warm bath.

  “Oh, we do much more than meditation here. Some of the girls require attitude adjustment. I did warn you. Remember?”

  “Hmmm.” Wary, she stepped back as the guards entered the cell towing the hose. Which was when she noticed the circular drain under her feet. If she ever needed Nibbles to dismantle some hinges and undo locks, it was now. Once these people departed, anyway.

  Unlock this cell door tonight, and a few other doors, climb to ground level, and she could find her way out.

  One of the guards left and she heard the distinctive squeak of a tap being turned.

  “Now we shall cleanse you.” Praise smiled, showing fangs and a pretty row of teeth.

  The water blasted into her chest and face and she staggered, turning her back on it only to be knocked off her feet to hands and knees. It was frigidly cold and that alone stripped the air from her lungs.

  The water kept pouring at her for so long that her only escape was to curl into a ball and wait, clutching her ears, eyes crammed shut. By the time they stopped hosing her she was shivering intensely, teeth chattering, and her fingers felt numb and barely alive.

  “Strip her, chain her from the ceiling. We have much to do. Fetch the scrubbing brushes and the soap, please.”

  The pure satisfaction in Praise’s voice made Avalon decide to escalate from forks in eyeballs to a blazing torch shoved up her cunt.

  The cleansing went on for some time, an hour or more, possibly. Her estimation was ruined by her shivering so much her mind blanked out. Getting her nipples and pussy scrubbed with a brush was also a bit distracting. Lesser Priest Han joined in, wielding the scrubbing brush. She glared and swore at him and Praise until they scrubbed her tongue and shoved a gag in her mouth. After that she endured and stayed silent.

  When they were done, they left her with her hands attached by cuffs and chains to the ceiling. She could stand. If she did not, if she fell to her knees, it would be uncomfortable but possible to remain there. Lying down however was beyond the reach of the chains.

  Most of the water drained away and thankfully a heating vent of some sort was blowing warmth into her cell from outside the cell. They removed the gag and let her drink water, fed her a single piece of fruit and some chunks of cooked meat. A bottle of water was left nearby.

  She was warming, though her skin felt raw and as if she’d been dragged naked through a field of prickles.

  The cell door clanged shut and was locked. Praise blew her a kiss then exited left.
>
  Bitch.

  Losing weight in here would be a cinch. If they expected her to beg or cry, they were going to be waiting a long while. She sniffed, dismayed at how thinking that had made her eyes water.

  Nope. Not doing that.

  Praise, however, needed something shoved up her, and being set on fire, and dropped into a hole full of spikes...

  She amused herself imagining things to do to Praise, and that priest.

  Tomorrow was their Dance of Love.

  After an hour or two, the high priest arrived. She looked up from where she kneeled, dreading some other grim punishment. He unlocked her cell door and opened it, slipped inside.

  “Hmmm.” The priest eyed the chain where it crossed from wall to the ceiling above her, then ran downward to her hands. “I never ordered this. Not exactly this. Though we shall leave you chained due to the extraordinary circumstances. This was Praise’s doing, I’m sure.” The priest loosened her chains so she could lie down and dropped a thin blanket on the driest part of the floor.

  “I will let you rest while I sort this out. Even I can feel a growing attraction to you, and I assure you I don’t like females. You aren’t normal and neither is that squeakling mouse. Your arrival has disrupted so much. I suppose I will have to use the last girl, tomorrow, dress her up differently, add a beard perhaps?” He chuckled. “A pair of feline ears and a tail? Whatever are we going to do with you?”

  “You could release me?”

  “But you’ve cost us so much! We’re going to have to improvise a priest with a dildo on a stick or something. It won’t be the same. Donations will drop. This is unprecedented! If it wasn’t for the prophecy...”

  After pressing a savory bread roll into her hands, he left her, muttering as he trudged.

  It was hours after that, possibly in the middle of the night, that the fun began.

  Guards began to gather outside her cell, and then a few priests, and they all had that look.

  Soon, eight lined the bars.

  Frightened as well as aroused, for the first time she was glad she was chained up and that they did not, it seemed, have the key to her cell.

  She was safe behind the bars. An hour or more passed and she became more comfortable with the idea of being lusted after by so many. She stared back at them, inclined to go to all fours to show off and tease. After all, she was compelled to be naked, and they were watching.

  Efsana. Uncontrollable desire, except she was not going to succumb. Not her.

  That familiar warm hum possessed her pussy, her downstairs department, her breasts—the whole complete and utter sexually fiddle-worthy and fuck-worthy parts of her wanted to have a party with all of them.

  All. Of. Them.

  Even if she did nothing they would look. She shivered and clutched her body, crossing her arms over her breasts. Mustn’t. This was wrong.

  She was not mindless. Neither were they. They knew this wasn’t a part of their job description, but if they were like her it was a terrible, mind-rending need.

  Without her males her resistance was cracking. These were also all male, all mauleon. This was a part of her genetic makeup. Zo had told her so.

  She mostly turned her back on them, covering her sex with her palm, her breasts with her arm, and she curled into a tight ball again, praying she’d not be overcome before someone came to shoo them away.

  Someone must.

  Only, with her palm where it was, the highly sensitive place between her legs throbbed even more. Her clit also, especially her clit.

  If she only stimulated herself a little down there, maybe sneaked a finger in, she could relieve this intolerable discomfort. Avalon squirmed and kept her panting to a minimum, tried to count time to occupy herself.

  One. Two. Three. Four... Fifty-three... Two thousand.

  Go to them.

  No. She would not, but she sneaked a finger inside herself, gasping at the feel, at the greedy clutch of her internal muscles, and she left it there. Soon it was sopping wet with her fluids, but it comforted her like a thumb in her mouth. It strung her out as if she’d snorted the latest drug, it made her shudder at random moments, but it felt indescribably good.

  If not for this she’d be over there, asking for something that would shame her.

  At least they were silent, mostly, only occasionally rattling the bars or calling her to come to them.

  Ignore, ignore. Let them ejaculate in their pants.

  She was half sure she’d said three thousand and eleven several times before she moved on. They’d come for her, her mauleons. They had to, or she’d be rubbing her ass up against the bars and begging for something inside her, something more than this finger.

  That excruciating picture strengthened her. Never. She would never fall that far.

  Some disgusting amount of time later, at last, finally... something happened.

  Was it a murmur from the crowd that she dared not look at, or the changing shadows?

  The shuffling of feet, the difference in the sounds as if the room was emptier, then the turn of a key in the lock and the slide of the door—all those made her want to look.

  Afraid, she lifted her head.

  Only one mauleon stood there and he held a key that swung from his fingers.

  Takk.

  She gasped a sob of relief. He wasn’t one of hers, but... there was something new about his scent. She raised her head and found herself sniffing. Which was so not her normal way of saying hi.

  She shuffled onto her knees. The heavy chain links chinked as they slid across her thighs. Thankfully her finger was no longer where it had been for so many hours.

  They must leave this place.

  Her gaze wandered down his body. The shape in his pants drew her more than any exit and a tremor stirred her.

  Her mouth twisted in disgust. No, surely not him? Takk had always been condescending, as if she were beneath his level. She couldn’t want him. He’d fucked her and she’d enjoyed it but not craved more. Not really.

  Yet she recognized the ache in her breasts, the feel of new moisture leaking from her already swollen lips. She was responding, engorging, as if she might fuck him.

  Desiring the guards had been bad enough.

  He arrived before her, had been walking over while she’d been smacking down her lustful thoughts.

  “I see you, Avalon.”

  The shock of his voice traveled through her explosively, enough to jolt this moment into somewhere outside time and place. It’s just Takk. She licked her lips.

  And here she was on her knees and nude, and in chains. It wasn’t as if she could run. The entire situation rang with succulent, delicious danger.

  “Mmm.” She berated herself. Stop fucking him with your eyes. “You have a key. We can leave?”

  Stop thinking about lifting his shirt and kissing down his stomach, and then licking along his length until... She squeezed shut her betraying eyes.

  “We’re fine, girl. We can leave when we want to. The temple accepted a small offer of compensation. We paid. You’re an expensive little thing. They don’t want you anymore.” He drawled that with added grit, sounding amused and resolute. His finger brushed down her nose to her lips and she snapped open her eyes. “But I do.”

  Then he went to one knee. It strengthened his scent. That beckoning scent.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Take a deep breath and exhale, slowly.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Takk could tell the attraction was mutual. He’d stunned her merely by getting closer, and he smiled. Those wide eyes were fixated on him, whenever she dared open them. Tamping down his need to ravish her thoroughly and immediately, here on the stone floor, took some doing.

  But he managed, because he needed to lay down some rules.

  In here it was clean, warm, though a few puddles of water told him they’d hosed in here, and her too, judging by the patches of dampness in her red hair and on the gray blanket beneath her knees. The chains attached to her wris
t cuffs snaked over the floor then upward to the ceiling. They jingled as she moved, and they gave him nasty ideas.

  The look of the metal against her skin might make him come if he stared for too long. A bound and helpless female. Even if she wanted him to do things to her, it was gorgeous.

  He took hold of one of the chains where it ran upward and began to play with it, looping it around and around her from wrist to shoulder then releasing it.

  “I took out the nose plugs. They weren’t working anymore. Your scent got in anyway.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh.” He spoke softly, thinking about what to say.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What I want to.” He met her eyes, challenging her to deny him. He picked up the chain where it met her wrist cuff and led it behind her, making her arm follow, trapping it at her back. “I’m not like the others. You’re not going to fucking control me. I may desire you, but you obey me.”

  “Ummm.”

  He lifted her thigh, noting her shudder as he fed the chain between her legs to her front. He pulled it taut slowly, dragging the chain through her legs and her pussy lips, locking her wrist down onto her ass. Her slightly alarmed stare hardened his smile. “Now I have you where I want you.”

  Keeping it taut, he slipped the chain between his fist until he was at her throat, wedging the metal links between her legs and onto her pussy and her clit. Her free hand grabbed at the chain where he pressed it and his fist beneath her jaw.

  “Let that go or I’ll fuck you with a whole bunch of chain stuffed inside you.” Which would seriously be interesting. File it away as a possibility.

  Whether she believed that or not, she stiffened.

  His grip tightened and Avalon flinched, staring at his face before she sighed. Her grip loosened. She visibly slumped as her muscles relaxed. After a final caress of the back of his hand with her fingertips, her hand fell away.

  “Good.” Though he opened his fist he kept the chain against her skin, nestled in the V of fingers and thumb. “You’re mine, girl. I get to rule, not you. Mine and theirs.”

  She nodded, spellbound, and his fingers felt her swallow.