by T. J. Quinn
Bretdon followed him with furrowed eyebrows. “Why do you assume that?”
“Well, it’s the truth,” the other man grumbled.
“Have you tried?”
“I wouldn’t know where to start. My only female company so far has been the androids they used to send to the camps to entertain us,” he said with a husky tone.
Bretdon nodded, understanding his friend’s situation. Though he had a bit more experience, he wouldn’t wish that kind of experience to anyone. It had been demeaning and quite frustrating.
“Just talk to her. Let her know you’re a lot more than the machine they say we are. Show her you have feelings,” he suggested, patting his friend’s shoulder.
“Do you think it’s worth it? With luck, we could be out of here in a few weeks,” he said, shrugging.
“I think we’ll be here at least, a few months. With no way to contact the others, we’re stranded here until the engineers find a way to fix the transmitters we brought back,” Bretdon explained. “Besides, you could always take her with you.”
“Will you take Ophelia?” Kirkcal asked, sounding surprised.
“Of course, I am. I sure as hell, won’t leave her behind,” he replied, with a firm tone. “That was always my intention, and nothing has changed.”
“I hadn't considered that a possibility,” Kirkcal admitted.
“Go for it. You have more to offer than you think, trust me,” Bretdon encouraged him.
“I’ll think about it.”
They spent the rest of the day training with the group of soldiers, in some sort of training camp, a few miles away from the caves. By the time they returned to the caves, the sun was going down on the horizon, and the men around them looked tired and hungry.
“You look as if you haven't done a thing,” James grumbled, as they walked through the woods.
“I’ve been upgraded to have a lot more resistance and endurance than the average soldier,” Bretdon reminded him.
“I heard they used nanocybots,” he commented, sounding intrigued.
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Perhaps, they should start using them in all of the soldiers,” he suggested, with a slight frown.
“They can’t control the nanocybots once they are inside our body. Though they have predetermined programming, they have the ability of learning and making decisions. They are able to multiply themselves, and we believe they can upgrade as well. There’s no way of knowing what they will do once they are released into the human body,” Bretdon explained.
James listened to him in silence. “I believe I would be willing to take my chances. It’s probably not something everyone should do, but I’m sure I would like to have it done to me,” the man revealed, with evident longing in his tone.
“After the government tried that on Jarcor, they decided it’s not something they’re willing to try again. They were never able to control him the way they controlled the rest of us and that, my friend, was far from what they wanted,” Kirkcal replied, with a scowl.
“Well, it’s a pity,”
“I’m not sure of that. The world is unprepared for that many cyborgs,” Bretdon said, with an ironic smile.
James let out a loud laugh. “Well, yes, I’m sure of that too.”
When Bretdon reached his cave, Ophelia was already there, waiting for him. She had taken a bath and was wearing only her robe, as she lay on the bed, reading something on an electronic reader.
“Hi, how was your day?” she asked, with a welcoming smile as he got in.
Bretdon’s nostrils flared the minute he walked in the room. He could smell the other man’s presence in the room. Stiffening, he crossed his arms over his chest and slightly spread his legs, shoulder wide.
“It was fine, thank you, what about yours?” he asked in a cold tone.
Ophelia dropped the electronic reader and sighed. Her day hadn't been what she had expected at all. And all thanks to Jonathan.
He had convinced himself Bretdon was forcing Ophelia to stay with him and he was determined to rescue her from the claws of the evil cyborg. He had been on her back all day long, talking nonsenses and exhausting her patience. When she finally decided to end the day and return to her room, he decided to walk her there, even though she insisted she didn’t need any company.
Once at the room, she tried to tell him goodbye at the curtain, but he ignored her words and entered the room. By then, she was extremely distressed , but the straw that broke the camel's back was him trying to kiss her.
She had yelled at him and pushed him away from her, but he seemed convinced she was only protecting him from Bretdon.
“It was alright, I guess. We spent the day scanning the devices we brought from the colony and learning a bit more about them,” she explained, when Bretdon asked later, avoiding his gaze.
His expression didn’t encourage her to confide in him. “What about your coworkers? Did you enjoy working with them?”
There was sarcasm in his tone, and she frowned, looking at him. “Why don’t you ask me a straight question, Bret? It’s not like you beating around the bush,” she grumbled.
He snorted his displeasure, and she frowned more intensely.
“You want a straight question? Why the hell am I able to scent that a man has been in our room?” he asked testily.
She gulped and tried to find the best answer to the only question she hadn't been waiting for. She had forgotten his enhanced sense of smell.
“He insisted on accompanying me here, that’s all,” she tried to explain, as she jumped out of bed.
He closed the distance between them with a couple of strides. “His scent is all over you, Ophelia.”
She sighed, impatient. “I know, the man spent the whole day sniffing my back. I did all I could to send him away without being rude, but he didn’t take the hints,” she finally admitted, jumping startled when he growled his rage.
“I knew it. I’ll smash the little worm,”
Ophelia grabbed him before he left the room to hunt down the other man. “You’ll do no such thing. I’ll handle this, by my own terms. He has the wrong idea about us, but I’ll make sure to tell him in the morning how things are,” she said, struggling to control the trembling in her voice.
“I’m sure he’ll get the message a lot faster if it comes from me,” he insisted.
“Bret, we’re guests here. These people are helping us getting my mother out of that camp. The last thing we need right now is this kind of incident,” she retorted, cupping his face. “I’ll handle this, I promise.”
There was a thick silence between them before he finally nodded. “Very well, but if he refuses to understand, I will have a small talk with him.”
“Alright, I can accept that,” she agreed, stealing a kiss from his lips.
He kissed her back, sliding his tongue deep into her mouth, assailing every inch of it and taking her breath away.
Reluctantly, he took a step back. “I need a bath. But I’ll be right back,” he promised, kissing her again before he disappeared into the bathroom.
Breathing hard, she returned to the bed and waited for him, battling with her desire to join him and her common sense that urged her not to show just how eager she was for him.
He returned to the bedroom with no clothes on, with his cock proudly erect and ready for her. With a naughty grin, he crawled into bed with her and stood on his knees in front of her.
“Do we have time for playtime before dinner?” he asked, in a husky tone.
“We’ll make time,” she assured him, stretching out her hand and reaching for his hard shaft. A few strokes were all she needed to have the first drop of his pearly fluid coming out.
Unable to control herself, she leaned her head forward and licked it from the tip of his cock, relishing in the bittersweet taste and how it tickled in her tongue. Craving more, she took the head into her mouth and sucked, while her tongue played with the sensitive skin.
Bretdon growled his pleasure and
sank his fingers into her mane, pulling her closer and pushing his cock deeper into her mouth.
Moaning with pleasure, she allowed him to push his shaft in and out of her mouth, while her tongue enjoyed playing with his big, thick cock. Determined to make him feel a bit of the immense pleasure he always gave her, so she started stroking him and playing with his balls.
He seemed pleased with it, judging by his loud growls, so she increased her pace, taking him faster and deeper.
“Ophelia,” he cried out her name, as his body shuddered underneath the waves of a powerful orgasm washed over his body. His essence poured deep down her throat, and she moaned, pleased, feeling the tickling sensation rush through her body. It was awesome, like nothing she had ever felt before.
With a loud grunt, he put her on her hands and knees and leaned over her back. “It’s my turn to give you pleasure,” he whispered in her ear.
His fingers slid down her slit and quickly found her engorged clit, starting to rub it. She moaned and closed her eyes, with rapture, when he began to pinch and pull her clit, sweetly torturing her, until her whole body was trembling wildly with pleasure.
He slid a couple of fingers inside her and played with her wet pussy, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. When she was about to jump, he replaced his fingers with his already hard cock and grunted his pleasure.
The waves of the first orgasm washed over her, while he thrust in and out of her until he came again, pushing her back up, to the crest of the waves, as the most blissful pleasure rushed through her whole body.
She collapsed on the bed, and he covered her body with his. “You’re mine. I don’t want any other male’s scent on you,” he snarled, in a low tone, in her ear.
She chuckled, delighted with the possessiveness of his tone and turned her face around to look at him. “Yes, Mr. Caveman. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “You better.”
Chapter Fifteen
That night, in the main room, Sandra presided over the dinner, a bit more excited than usual. When she spotted Bretdon and Ophelia entering the room, she called to them.
“Bretdon, Ophelia, I want you to meet Sabrina. She’s like a daughter to me,” she introduced them to a beautiful redhead, standing right next to her. “I’ve known her since she was a little girl and when her parents died, we became even closer. Sabrina, they are Bretdon and Ophelia, the couple I was telling you about.”
“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you. Sandra has been talking about you ever since I arrived this afternoon,” the woman said, with a warm smile.
Unlike most people, she didn’t show any curiosity about Bretdon, and that puzzled him.
“It must have bored you to death,” he replied, with a half-smile.
“Not at all. It makes me happy to know cyborgs are finally escaping their enslavement,” she said, with a tense smile.
“Yes, it’s great, and we owe it all to Jarcor, the first cyborg that managed to escape,” he explained.
The blunt expression on the woman’s eyes flickered for a split second, and if Bretdon hadn't been attentive, he would have missed it.
She knew Jarcor, and that was the reason she wasn’t curious about cyborgs. She already knew a lot about them.
“Oh, he must have been quite a man,” she said, with a cold tone.
“He is, indeed,” he assured her, emphasizing the present tense of the verb.
“He’s alive?” this time, the bitterness in her tone was quite evident and even Sandra looked at her with an intrigued expression.
“Yes, he is. He’s what we could call our leader, though he’s not very fond of titles, according to what I’ve heard.”
“I see, well, it was a pleasure knowing you, but I had a very long day, so if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll say goodnight to you all,” Sabrina said, and before anyone could say anything, she was walking out of the room.
“Was it something I said?” Bretdon asked, with a hard frown.
Sandra looked at him, after watching Sabrina leave the room, clearly as surprised as he was. “No, I don't think so. She's probably tired like she said. She lives in one of our settlements very far from here,” she explained, though she didn’t sound very convinced.
“Any idea where she might have met Jarcor?” he asked Sandra, too curious not to ask.
Sandra looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “She doesn’t know him,” she assured him.
But Bretdon knew better. Nonetheless, he didn’t insist and dropped the subject. “What’s for dinner? I must say, tonight I’m starving.”
Sandra gave him a faint smile and invited them to the table. Soon, they were enjoying their meal.
“What was all that about?” Ophelia asked him, in a low tone.
“I’ll explain it later,” he promised.
She nodded though he could tell she was curious. Kirkcal, on the other side of the table, had the same curiosity written all over his face.
“What happened?” he asked, using their private communication channel.
“The woman knows Jarcor,” Bretdon explained.
“How can you be so sure?”
“It was obvious she had seen cyborgs before, and when I mentioned Jarcor, something in her changed. What I don’t understand is why she assumed he was dead?”
“Perhaps she knew him before he was turned into a cyborg,” Kirkcal ventured to say.
“No. I don’t think so, she would have been too young then,” he dismissed his friend’s suggestion.
“Anyway, I doubt you’ll get answers from her.”
“Yes, I was able to feel her distress as well.”
When dinner was over, they headed back to their room, with Kirkcal following them.
“What happened back there?” Ophelia asked in a low tone when they reached their room.
Both men explained their theory to her, and she agreed with them. “Yes, I noticed that too. And she didn’t seem very happy with the presence of you two here.”
“I know. I just hope she won’t turn Sandra against us. It’s obvious that whatever happened between Jarcor and her didn’t end well,” Bretdon said, with a scowl.
“I didn’t feel her as a resentful person, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Ophelia said, a bit worried.
The following morning, right after breakfast, Ophelia bumped in with Sabrina. She was on her way to the engineers’ offices when she saw the woman coming out of one of the caves with a girl of about six years old. It was the first child Ophelia had seen around the place.
“Oh, you’re Ophelia, right?” she asked, sounding tense.
“Yes, how are you? I hope you’re feeling better this morning,” she greeted her.
“Yes, thank you. Sandra told me you came here with one of the cyborgs,” she commented, in a stern tone.
“Yes, that’s right. I bumped into him on the road, and we’ve been together ever since,” she explained, with a smile.
“Mom, I’m hungry can we go to the main room now?” the little girl asked, turning both women’s attention to her.
“Yes, sweetie, right away,” she answered.
“I didn’t know there were children here. It’s the first time I see one,” Ophelia said, smiling, unwilling to let them go so quickly.
The little girl was like a small copy of her mother, except for the eyes. The girl’s eyes were of a deep blue instead of her mother’s emerald green. She was also very pale, almost translucent and she didn’t remember ever having seen someone like her.
“There aren’t any children here. These caves aren’t the best place to raise a child, so mostly, people living here are couples with no children and those we’ve recently rescued,” Sabrina explained.
At her side, the little girl looked at Ophelia smiling, with a naughty grin on her heart-shaped face. It was like seeing an exquisite Victorian china doll, precious and delicate.
“I guess that makes sense. So, this little princess is your daughter
?” she asked again, though she could tell the woman wanted to escape her questions.
“Yes, she is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take her to the main room.”
“Of course. It was nice seeing you again,” she said, with a smile.
The other woman nodded and almost ran out of there, dragging her daughter. It was as if she didn’t want her asking any more questions about the child.
Sighing, she headed to the offices and soon she was submerged in the aliens’ technology.
That night, when she met Bretdon, she remembered the encounter. “Have you noticed there are no children here?” she asked, while she was getting dressed for dinner.
“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve seen any.”
“There aren’t any. They don’t think these caves are a good place to raise kids, and I guess they are right,” she told him. “But like you, I hadn't realized there weren’t kids here until I saw one. It was Sabrina’s daughter.”
“She has a daughter?” he seemed surprised.
“Yes, she does. The little girl looks as if she’s six years old, but unlike most proud moms, Sabrina didn’t seem to want to brag about her child. She didn’t even introduce the girl to me,” she explained, furrowing her eyebrows.
“Perhaps the girl is too shy.”
“No, I don’t think so. She was smiling at me, anyway, she’s a precious little girl.”
“If she’s anything like her mother, I’m sure she is,” Bretdon agreed.
For a moment, Ophelia felt the sting of jealousy, but she quickly realized Bretdon’s tone was almost clinical as if he was commenting the beauty of a flower. There was no passion in it.
“Yes, she’s a small version of Sabrina, with the most amazing blue eyes I’ve ever seen,” she replied, smiling.
“She must be lovely.”
But Sabrina wasn’t anywhere around. Too curious, Ophelia asked Sandra her whereabouts.
“She already went home. She never stays long when she comes here,” the woman explained, with a sad tone. “She can’t stand being here more than a couple of days. She only came because my birthday was two days ago and she wanted to surprise me.”