Description
by Candace Smith
Tied and restrained, mistaken for android whores, Kera and Emily have no idea what is happening to them. Thrown into a parallel world where the few women are kept hidden away, they become prisoners of Quinn and Conner, gunslingers with a price on their heads who have never seen real women and who are being pursued by one of their enemies who has been using sexy androids to trap them. And even when the gunslingers realise their prisoners are real women, Quinn’s only knowledge of how women should be treated is from a very old and faded copy of a BDSM magazine…
Published: 7 / 2011 No. words: 48400
Style: Dark Erotica – Romantic BDSM, Adult Suspense/Thrillers, Science Fiction Erotica 
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.
