Planet of the Normen

Yet it made for a nice funny irony—the utterly mortified girl cringing and sniveling like she was about to be executed, while the whole time Sharon herself couldn't help feeling more than a little envious of her figure. Not that she would have tattooed herself all over if that body was hers—that was not a style that appealed to her. She just wished she still looked that young and fit. Her own body was all right but it used to be trimmer. Her breasts and butt used to stand as high and tight as Polly's did—they didn't do that anymore. She was embarrassed how pasty-pale and sweaty she was, compared to her face and her neck and her hands, which had all got baked brown during their time in the forest. Her nose was peeling a tiny bit from a sunburn, and her armpits and legs could use a shave.

Sharon undid her ponytail. Her hair was long enough and thick enough it kept her breasts shielded if she pulled it forward over her shoulders. That would help a great deal. She'd Lady Godiva this, at least her upper half. Nothing to be done for downstairs, alas.

The ground was prickly with pine needles. They tickled more than they stung. When they left the forest, the stony road surface turned more painful, just as she'd expected. Not only bumpy and jagged but scorching hot from the sun. "Ow. Owee. Ow. God. Gerrod ..." Hardest part of the ordeal for her.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. You just have to endure it, I'm afraid."

She tried singing a pop song to herself, to occupy her mind. Trouble was, she couldn't remember the lyrics of any. Her mind had blanked except for small scraps, jumbled together. She sung the scraps, or pretended to. Silently mouthing them.

She kept her eyes fixed on Gerrod's bare back. Without his clothing or his false skin, he was almost unrecognizable. A much more formidable and frightening figure than he'd been previously, with all his idealized musculature exposed. He also had a very large penis, and heavy balls to go with them. She hadn't known that about him. Most modern androids didn't have genitalia, even if they were built to look and act like they had a gender. Only if they were sex workers like the Normen had once been. Most sex droids weren't fully sentient, as was also true of the Normen in those days.

Why then did Gerrod have sex parts? It was puzzling. Very odd.

He also had a mighty erection, as he led his two phony slaves through the middle of the bustling city. Most of the Normen sported jutting erections at all times. Gerrod had apparently stiffened himself to blend in. She wished he'd mentioned he was going to do that ahead of time. So it hadn't startled her when she noticed it. No doubt he'd found it too embarrassing to bring up. "Oh, by the way ..."

They'd been mistaken about nobody paying attention to them. Instead they attracted stares from nearly every other robot they passed. Not Gerrod himself, just the women. They were not suspicious or accusatory looks, however. They were appreciative. Everybody was admiring his fine pair of captives—even, somewhat strangely, the alien, spidery Beyonder-bots. A few Normen went so far as to clap their hands and whistle.

Profoundly humiliating. But better than them laughing or throwing stones. Of course best of all would have been if no one took notice like they'd hoped. Then again, that would have been a little insulting, perhaps. If you chose to look at it that way. It would have meant she and Polly weren't worth noticing. Not that she really ought to care what their opinion was, these sick twisted sadistic mechanized bastards.

We all want to be sexy, is the thing. Perfectly natural. Doesn't matter who's looking—we'd all rather be considered sexy than otherwise. We'd all rather be admired and desired, than ignored.

Was Polly doing any better beside her? No, poor thing still looked as miserable as the moment they started. Couldn't stop bawling. There were shiny trickles streaking the inside of her legs. God, had she wet herself? Poor thing. Sharon's heart went out to her. She would have hugged her if her hands weren't tied. This was all her fault, wasn't it? If she'd been a better leader, they wouldn't be in this position—they never would have lost their ship to those fucking pirates. She should have fought harder. She shouldn't have let them win.

Hell, if she'd known she was going to end up stark naked in a city street, on a leash, she'd probably have set the ship for self-destruct. Would have needed to be done manually, was the thing—the pirates had remotely frozen their computer somehow, before they boarded. Even so, she could have taken the pirates with them, if she stayed on the ship and timed the detonation right. Might have been worthwhile, a grand heroic sacrifice, compared to this disgraceful demeaning roleplay.

Too fucking late now. They were stuck. They were committed.

At least she knew she was sexy. That was something to take away, for herself. The sick nasty fuckers all liked ogling her. She allowed herself to take some comfort in that. If one is going to get ogled and leered at like a piece of juicy meat, it was nice to find out she still had the goods to excite a high level of hungry interest. Polly didn't seem to be outshining her in that department. The sexiness of her slightly more matured and rounded figure was proven and quantified by this experiment. It's terrible of course to commoditize one's body—humankind was supposed to have evolved past this sort of thing. But being forced to do it, she was pleased to turn out with a strong market value. It gave her a growing giddiness, a sense of drunkenness that made her stumble. Accompanied almost by a desire to giggle out loud, as much at herself and her foolishness as at the robots, and the whole entire mad situation on this fucked-up planet. These brutal barbarian robots considered her to be hot, and she was glad they did. 'Cause her feelings—her perception of herself—would have been wounded and offended if they didn't. Absurd as that was, it was the plain truth.

Only then just as this thought was crossing her mind, her self-esteem took a nasty hit from an unexpected quarter.

It was another slave girl passing close to them; she gave them a brief sideways glance. And it was a snooty, disdainful look. Frowning at them with her nose in the air, haughty as a queen. Despite the fact this other girl was being led naked on a leash the exact same as them. The only difference was her hands weren't tied. That and the way she was walking, the way she carried herself. Strolling along with casual grace and pride, nothing lowly or sorrowful about her in the slightest. Either she was entirely unconscious of her nudity, or took active pleasure in showing her body off in the blazing sun.

And yes, it was a more impressive body than either Sharon's or Polly's. A goddess, was what she was. An enslaved goddess.

Sharon was stunned and baffled by the woman. Utterly bewildered. How could she behave like that in this place, and in these circumstances? How could anyone? It seemed insane. And why had she looked over at them with so much venomous contempt? Sharon herself had felt only a gut-wrenching pity for all the other slaves she'd seen on this world. That girl had no pity in her, not an ounce. Instead she seemed to be enjoying her existence here. Seemed proud of it, perhaps even somehow ennobled by her slavery. Clearly, she had resented the sight of Polly and Sharon's unhappiness and wretchedness. As if she found them embarrassing, or outright disgusting. As if the pair of them were doing something genuinely wrong. Letting the side down, so to speak. Riffraff lowering the tone.

It was so twisted it was fascinating! It made her head spin. Sharon wanted to get inside that woman's brain. She wanted to know her story and understand her, if any coherent understanding was possible. How could a person like that come into being? What had shaped her? What did the Normen do to their women that could turn someone into an individual as deluded and heartless as that?

There was a paper in that creature. Maybe a whole important series. Sharon doubted she herself would be the one to write and publish such a study, but it would definitely be a project worth undertaking for someone, some day. Provided they were brave enough to take the subject on.

Now finally they'd almost reached the base of the antenna array. A steep ramp would take them up inside the guts of the tower. There was no gate or guard. Anyone who wanted could just stroll right up. Careless of the Normen, but big beacons like that largely looked after themselves. Dated as it was, it was still a sophisticated piece of cosmic technology, not easily sabotaged. Gerrod better know what was doing, when he plugged himself into it.

Then just before he was about to step up on the ramp, another Norman hailed him. A bigger, taller chap than Gerrod, with two swords slung across his back. Sharon's heart leapt into her mouth. The call had been polite, though. It was not a challenge. The weapons stayed sheathed.

The two robots conversed in an accelerated machine language of low pulses and murmurs, so she couldn't follow the conversation. The gist was clear enough. The Norman was offering a coin purse to Gerrod. He wanted to buy one of his women.

Gerrod didn't turn him down. He accepted the purse with a nod and then handed over Polly's leash. The other robot dragged her away around a corner. Sharon was too appalled to do anything, absolutely frozen with shock and horror. Polly struggled ferociously, and screamed beneath her gag; her new owner paid no attention. Barely looked at her. He took much swifter strides than Gerrod had, forcing Polly into a stumbling jog. Sharon's last glimpse of her, before they vanished from sight between the buildings, was Polly's bulging eyes as she stared back at them over her shoulder, desperate and astonished, confused and pleading.

"What the hell?" Sharon gasped, "Why did you—"

He cut her off. "Hush," he said. "Change of plan. I'll explain in a moment." Then, turning aside from the tower's entrance ramp, he led her further along the road to the doorway of another large building. It looked like an inn. And it was, when they went inside. Gerrod gave some of the money from the purse he'd just acquired to a Norman behind the counter, then took Sharon upstairs to a room on the top level of the building.

"Why have you done this?" Sharon demanded, as soon as he'd locked the door behind them, "How are we going to get Polly back?"

Gerrod shrugged. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, then gently guided her toward the foot of the bed. The slick polished floorboards creaked beneath their feet.

"You need to untie me," Sharon said. She turned around again and sat on the edge of the mattress, holding up her wrists to him. Soon as he released her, she would wrap a sheet from the bed around herself, and make him put on another one. She couldn't think clearly while they were both naked, she felt like she could barely breathe. She couldn't stop looking at his horrible erection. It was actually harder to be naked with him, and bound, in the privacy of this room than it had been out in the crowded street. More humiliating and scary.

He took hold of her hands and then held perfectly still for a long moment, studying the knots with a strange troubled expression. He did not loosen them.

"What's the matter?" she asked, "What are you thinking?"

He pulled her to her feet, jerking her upright with so much suddenness it made her stomach swim. His head still loomed high over hers. The top of her head just reached his chin. She never realized before how strong he was. With his false skin and hair, he'd always looked perfectly average, despite his height. That was the whole point of them. He touched her chin, tilting her face back, and then studied it with the same intensity as when he examined her bound hands. It frightened her. She was chilly, all the sudden, shivering. It was from her own sweat. She was soaked with it. So much that she could hear drops pattering the floorboards around her feet, raining off her body and from her hair after he made her stand.

"Gerrod, speak to me. Why won't you talk? Dammit, Gerrod, what is this? What's wrong with you?"

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Then smiled and shrugged. "It is ... lust."

"What?"

He put his hands on her breasts, weighing them, squeezing them, and then flicking his thumbs around and around her nipples, and then, once they'd stiffened, over the tips of them. The racing jolts of sensation his fingers triggered through her torso and spine were strong enough that for a second or two she imagined his metallic hands had been electrified. That he was zapping her!

"Hohh! Don't do that!" she gasped, "Don't touch me like that!"

But it didn't hurt, what he was doing to her. Shocking as it was, she only tensed and trembled, as she protested. Like her muscles had locked. She didn't pull away from his touch, or try to push him back. "What are you doing? Why are you—Uhh! Gerrod! Why are you doing this?"

"You know why. You just heard me say it."

"Is this a joke? You're scaring me, do you realize? Are you trying to make a joke? You're frightening me!"

"You have very large nipples, in proportion to your breasts. When they are swollen erect like this. Do you like how it feels, when I pinch them this way? Am I doing it too hard, or not hard enough? Which do you prefer, Dr. Green?"

"Ahhuuhh! Stop touching my breasts! I order you! Stop right now!"

He did. His hands moved to her shoulders again, gripping like before, but squeezing much harder than the last time. Painfully hard. Again, she was made to gasp.

"That hurts! Let go!"

"You are very beautiful, doctor," he said, and then made her spin around again. After that he shoved her forward on to the bed. Her face thumped against the mattress. Gerrod's hands slid from her shoulders to her hips, dragging them backward and up. Her toes returned to the floor and braced against it as he made her lift her naked ass higher and higher, high as it could stretch with her toes still touching the floorboards. He'd forced her body to fold at the waist, bent over the foot of the bed. He held her pinned down in that position. The tip of his cock nestled to her vagina, and she screamed at the contact, yet he did not press it home.

The synthetic cock was threaded with heated filaments, and it began to vibrate against her, faintly buzzing. The sensations were extreme. More than she could bear, and he was still holding himself back, at the exterior ...

"Oh my God!" she wailed, "My God!"

"You are wet," he said, "I can feel it."

"No! No I'm not! What are you talking about? You're out of your mind! Let me go!"

Yet even she made these futile, pathetic protests, and tried to kick and wiggle away from his, she felt a trickle of goo escape her cleft, and stream down her left thigh. She knew he would have felt it the same. And more oozed out, the more she struggled. Inside herself, she felt flashes of lightning. When she closed her eyes, she could see them inside her head. For some reason they were purple and green.

"You are aroused," he said, "You are as aroused as I am. I thought so. It would have been unfortunate if I'd been mistaken."

"Stop this! Let me up! You can't do this to me! You mustn't! Gerrod, I'm your commanding officer!"

"You were, doctor. At the moment, that is no longer the case." He slapped her bare buttocks and she squealed. "At the moment, you are my slave."

"This is madness! Have you gone mad?"

"Yes, Dr. Green. I think perhaps I have, to a degree. Earlier I noticed your surprise that I possessed functional genitalia. Vigilance must have been responsible for equipping me with sexuality. I no longer remember the reason. I no longer remember any uses it was put to, in the course of my assignments. There must have been some, or why was this given to me? Targeted seductions, I like to imagine. Yet now I may as well be a virgin. I have long had desires for you, Dr. Green. Since the moment we first met. I could never have told you. I could never have acted on them. Such a relationship would not have been appropriate, aboard our ship. Only now that ship is gone. We are here, stranded together on the world of the Normen. I cannot pass up this opportunity. When the other Norman approached me and offered me the money for Polly, I took it as a sign. I'm sorry, Dr. Green. The temptation is too powerful, now I have you in this room on this bed, all to myself. Nude, and bound, and wet for my cock." He spanked her ass again, for emphasis. "Receptive and eager for penetration. I promise I will not harm you. But I am going to fuck you now, oh yes. I am going to fuck you and keep you as my slave."

"Please don't do this, Gerrod! Please! I beg you! This is wrong! You know this is wrong! This is rape!"

"Yes. Yes it is. I promise you this, Dr. Green. If I cannot bring you to orgasm, I will set you free. But I believe I can. You are highly aroused, are you not? Admit it."

"No! No! I swear! I'm terrified! Please let me go! Stop this right now!"

"I do not think you are being entirely honest, Dr. Green. I understand. You are embarrassed by this scenario, and more so by the masochism it has revealed in your nature. You are unprepared to accept your receptivity to this manner of stimulation. I understand and sympathize with your difficulty. Yet you are manifesting all the physical indications of extreme sexual arousal. The swelling and lubrication of your vagina is only one of those indicators. I have carefully observed all the rest. They leave no margin for error. You are in heat, Dr. Green. You want fucking, and that's what I'm about to give you."

"Not like this! Please! Please listen! Just listen! You ... you can do whatever you want to me ... just untie me first. All right? How does that sound? Will you do that for me, at least? Take me as a lover, not as a slave. I confess I've become aroused, unexpectedly. From the nudity and from the ... role you made me and Polly perform out there in the street. Yes, fine. I'm willing to have sex with you. I'll be your lover, and I'll give you everything I can give, I promise you, if you set me loose and ... and ... make love to me. Don't rape me with my hands tied."

"I apologize again, Dr. Green. It's this planet—this culture. It has infected me. It has corrupted my character. I don't want you as a lover, Dr. Green. Not now. I want you as a slave." And again, her ass was slapped for punctuation, compelling another shriek from her. "I want to take you as a slave, against your will, and yet still make you come. I want to prove to you and to myself that I can overcome your resistance and do that."

"You can't! You can't! I swear to you, you can't! It won't work! It's madness! A delusion! I won't let you! I won't yield! Damn you! You can take me by force but you won't make me like it! Never! Never! I defy you, you treacherous bastard!"

"Let's see, Dr. Green."

He plunged within her. The vibration increased, as he did.

"Noohhooh!" she screamed. "No! No! No!" She cried out another negation against every massive thrust: "Never! Never! No! Never! Noohhoohh!"

He fucked her. He pulled her hair while he did it, to keep her head lifted from the mattress where she would have buried it, and he fucked her harder and harder, 'til his pelvis was spanking her bottom as hard as his hand had done before. She was being ravaged by her second-in-command and there was nothing she could do to make it stop or get away. And the feel of it. The feelings he made her feel, with his huge horrible robot cock, reaching so deep, pounding so savage. Oh God. The feel of it.

"You will give in, Dr. Green. You ... will! You ... will! I feel it! I feel it! Feel it!"