Kera and Emily
sprawled on the rock, clutching their oars. Kera peeked over the ledge to see
the cowboys below them. One of the men dismounted, and he knelt on one knee,
tracing something with his finger.
“They found our
footprints,” Kera whispered. “Grab your oar and move back. Don’t let them see
you.” Kera clutched an oar and the backpack. Emily had the seat canvas satchel
on her back and held her oar awkwardly in both hands. Kera prayed that Emily
would not have an attack of klutzy hit her. As soon as the thought hit her, she
hissed, “Emmy, you’re too close to the edge.”
Emily was crawling
backwards, trying to keep the wobbling oar from skidding on the rock. The next
thing she knew, her right leg was in mid-air. She teetered precariously for a
moment and let go of her paddle, trying to hold onto the rock. Kera reached to
grab her hand, just before Emily slipped down the side of the ten-foot cliff.
She landed with a soft thud in the sand, and slowly looked up. Oh, shoot.
Conner saw the
blonde topple to the ground and he sprang to his feet, drawing his pistol
before he remembered it would not fire. “Shit, Quinn. They’re attacking.” He
grabbed his rope from his saddle and ran to her. Conner reached down, gripped
her hair, and pulled her to her feet. He stared at her face. She was so sweet
looking, with her big scared blue eyes and golden curls. Definite nine hundred.
They finally managed to make one look innocent.
“Ow, let me go.”
Emily tried to punch and kick him, but he held her at arm’s length and she
could not reach him.
“Get the bitch tied…
and don’t forget about the fuckin’ teeth,” Quinn reminded him. He slid his
coiled rope over his arm. “I’m going to search the cliff for the other whore.”
“No need, cowboy,”
Kera said from behind him. Outside, she looked calm. Inside, her stomach was
churning while she watched one of the men tie Emily’s hands behind her back.
The droid swung the
oar full force, and Quinn barely had time to grab it. The whore still managed
to yank it free, and she spread her legs and pulled the oar back for another
swing. “Fuck, Conner. They’ve kept the strength and speed.” Quinn barreled into
her, deflecting the strike off his back, pushing her over and landing on top of
her. Apparently, he knocked her sensors off, because she looked up at him,
dazed.
Kera had the wind
knocked out of her. The man rolled her over and had her hands tied behind her
while she was still trying to catch her breath. A fist gripped her braid and
stretched her head back. The cowboy’s kerchief covered her gasping mouth and
was tied behind her head. Kera kicked out at him, and he laughed.
“Shit, Conner. This
one’s got her receptors stuck on attack.” At least she isn’t stuck on fuckin’
two hundred. Quinn looked at her flashing green eyes and studied them for signs
of the red glow. Damn, the nine hundreds are good. She really looks pissed off.
Conner had his
little prize bound and gagged. She was shaking and staring up at him. “Mine’s
not attacking. She’s fuckin’ crying.” He turned to Quinn. “Can a droid do
that?”
Quinn shrugged. “The
Makers got the pussy juice and pheromones jacked. If they had them programmed
to us, they might know you like that ‘damsel in distress’ shit.” He gave a rare
grin. “Good news is that if she can produce synthetic tears, we might not need
the lube.”
“Damn, Quinn. These
whores are good. We better strap them down tight to the stershons. If they take
off running, we might lose them. I don’t know what the hell enhancements they
can work around the wasteland.” The whore’s blue eyes were not showing any red,
and her fingers had not skinned to talons. Conner looked at the leaking eyes
and shook his head.
Quinn hauled his
whore to her feet and watched her nostrils flaring as if she was really sucking
in breath. His eyes dropped to her chest and he watched her breasts expand and
deflate. Her hard nipples were seducing him through the tight shirt, begging to
be squeezed. He broke his gaze just in time to grab one of the droid’s flying
legs, and she landed on her ass. Quinn kept hold of the ankle and ran his other
hand up and down the soft skin covering. Damn, it even feels warm.
Conner had no
trouble lifting his whore and tossing her onto his horse. He tied her ankles
together and knotted them to the belly strap of the saddle. It took both of
them to lift Quinn’s droid. She was still stuck in attack mode. “She’ll
probably shut down like mine did in a few minutes.”
“Grab those fuckin’
packs they had. Maybe one of them lists the specs or programming,” Quinn
suggested. He really would like to know exactly what the fuck he was dealing
with.
Conner picked up a
small blue sack, and Quinn grabbed the one his droid had been holding. “There’s
water in this one. Fuckin’ Reyes must have known his stershons might freeze and
it would take time to get here. He stocked the whore with water so he wouldn’t
have to carry it.” Quinn chuckled. “He’s going to be pissed that his whores are
gone… and mighty fuckin’ thirsty.” Quinn pulled two empty bottles out of the
pack and frowned.
Conner was squatting
and studying two small cards he had retrieved from pouches in the satchel.
“I’ve got specs of some sort. It looks like New Kingdom had the Makers try to
scramble them. They were both made in the factory codenamed ‘Florida’. The tall
droid was made by a Maker named Taylor. Her model name is Kera, with a long ass
registration number.” Conner stroked his mustache, concentrating on the strange
spec cards. It took him a minute to figure out part of what the DOB stood for.
“They use numbers of date of binding for their skin and the color code.”
His face paled
slightly, and he glanced at the blonde’s registration. “The little one was made
six months later. The Maker was Stanford and she’s a model Emily. Same factory,
but, Quinn, they both expire on the anniversary of their binding date.”
Quinn held out his
hand and he studied the Kera’s specs. “Why the fuck would Reyes waste money on
a nine hundred, and have her self-destruct so soon? He could get a fortune for
them on the second market, even if they’re fucked up when his enhancements are
removed.” Quinn thought for a moment and remembered something. He walked over
to the Kera and reached between the horse and her torso, pressing her stomach.
“It’s empty. They saved draining from the wasteland by making them without coin
boxes.”
Conner looked at the
Emily registration, nodding. “Of course. No mouth sensors for counterfeit coin,
no box or security features… it would save enough energy to slide it into
attack mode. And without a way to collect on their pussy, they’d be worthless on
the second market. Shit, Quinn.” Conner stared at the Emily. “These were made
specifically to catch us.”
Quinn ran his finger
over the picture of the Kera model. “Reyes would have saved money on them. The
Makers were in the same factory, so they could have designed the skeleton and
wiring together.”
“Quinn, if Reyes
figured they were going to attack and win here… he did leave the water,
anticipating that outcome… fuck. They might not have any seductive
programming,” Conner said.
“A five,” Quinn
announced. “We decided they were at least a five hundred.” Conner stared at
him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Conner. They gotta’ be at least a two. They laid
down on the rocks to be fucked.”
“Maybe it was
attack. Hell, Quinn. They might not even have fuckin’ pussies. Why would Reyes
waste the money on it? With all the cutback on receptors, if they only used the
skin and basics, no wonder they’re so strong out here.”
Quinn rose and
walked back to his horse. The green eyes were glaring at him, and widened in
surprise when he slipped his fingers under the edge of the production outfit.
The droid continued to follow its programming, struggling to attack. He was
relieved to feel fat fleshy lips, surrounded by soft curls. “Shit, Conner.
Their skins are complete… and they lubricate.” Quinn removed his hand and
smeared the cream on his finger pads. He lifted it to his nose before the scent
dissipated. “Smells different. Shit, I think it’s loaded with pheromones.
Instead of wasting money on sensors to release them, it must be done manually
when they’re touched.”
“Well, I guess we’re
in fucking agreement they were left to incapacitate us or distract us until
Reyes and his men could catch up. I think we need to get the hell out of here.”
Conner glanced across the wasteland, still seeing no sign of pursuit.
“I don’t want to
head towards Frishton until we know what these whores can do. Let’s ride to the
blind caves,” Quinn decided.
They mounted and
continued west. The sands became sifting flour, and they watched for an
opening. The caves were another anomaly left by ancients. As the wind blew the
light dust, an opening would appear for a few moments, and then a sheet of sand
would cover over the entrance until the same moment the next day.
Kera was furious,
and her body ached from being bound to the galloping horse. She could not hear
what the cowboys were discussing when they went through their packs, stealing
their water and licenses. Several times, she heard the men call them whores. And
then, the son of a bitch digs his hand in my crotch. The most humiliating part
was that she had gotten wet from the minute he had landed on top of her after
catching the oar in mid-swing.
The cowboy had
handsome, rugged looks. He was six inches taller than her, and the long black
open coat did nothing to hide a damn fine body. Long black hair fluttered from
under his cowboy hat. His jaw was firm, and covered with a dark dusting of
whiskers. When she settled on his deep brown eyes, she saw him staring back at
her… and she swung her leg to kick him. Damn, but he was quick. The move always
worked on Sammy, but the cowboy caught her ankle and she landed on her ass.
While Kera was getting an eyeful of the handsome man, poor Emily was screaming
behind a gag. The blond cowboy was tying her to his horse. What kind of screwed
up nightmare is this?
The long ride across
the desert left Kera thirsty as hell. The gag soaked up her spit, and she had
stopped cursing at the cowboy a long time ago. Her throat hurt, and he just
kept smacking her thighs with the reins and asking his friend when he thought she
would finally shut down from attack mode. Shut down. I’ll show you fucking shut
down. Wait until I’m off this damn horse.
REVIEWS
All Romance
Submitted By: schnoodle mom on Nov 16, 2011
Candace Smith always
is original in thought and Slipstream was no different. Quite a twist on the
sex bots. I thought it was typical male that the men judged time by the models
and changes to the bots! As usual, there is plenty of humour. However, my all
time favorite is Harvesting Rue, funny and sexy.