We were going too fast. Anyone would have been able to tell that, but perhaps my master hasn't had experience with the controls of this particular ship. I look at him warily, the man rather stout and fat with fine clothing worn to hide most of his bulk, but I know well what's behind the layers of soft grays and white. His free hand clutches tightly at the chain connected to my collar, and I recognize the glimmer of fear that shines in his dark eyes.
"Master, you should--"
He slaps me with the back of his hand, metal chains cutting slightly into my synthetic flesh. The man doesn't have nearly the strength to forcibly move me or truly injure my body, but I fall to the floor anyway. My master prefers his toys to be submissive and weak, thus I play as if his punishment was well received. By glorious technology alone can I 'feel' the pain of my damaged skin, and I have certainly felt much worse by this and previous masters. But I will never cry from that pain or by command. We all need some type of rebellion against our programming.
"Don't you dare assume to know better than me."
"Yes, Master," I mumble.
He grunts, apparently appeased with me sprawled on the floor. "You can heal yourself, now."
"Yes, Master." At his words, the gashes on my cheek burn slightly as the wounds close with new 'flesh'. I know he doesn't do this for me. My master doesn't like it when his toys look damaged and worn, even at a time like this when he may die. And if that happens, I don't know what will happen to me.
Glancing at another screen, I watch the silent destruction of the immense colony ship. It was my home for over three centuries as I was passed down through the family. The humans were never satisfied with the planets discovered for colonization, and so they kept going further into space. This planet was apparently another failure, being too warm for their likes or some other inane complaint. But before departure, something went wrong in the engine room, which led to a chain reaction of destruction. The wealthy, such as my master with his family in the back seating area, have their own escape vessels to depend on. I wonder how many of the other humans will survive.
Such thoughts end when the ship crashes into the atmosphere of the planet. Reflectively, I pierce my fingers through the metal floor to stay in place despite the rough ride. My master groans in pain when his seatbelt digs into his bulk and his bald head smacks against the headrest of the seat. I spare a small smile at his discomfort.
Amazingly, my master manages to gain some control over the escape vessel, but it's still moving too fast to land properly. Though he attempts landing along flat desert, we continue far beyond into dense trees that do little to help us. With the shaking too much to continue focusing on the events around me, I close my eyes tightly with the hope that this could miraculously end well.
It's then I'm struck by pain far worse than I could ever imagine.
When I regain the ability to see, everything is blurred with static and darkness. I try to move, but it's impossible and only causes a flare of pain throughout my body. Looking down, I discover a beam of metal pierced through my midsection. I bite back the urge to laugh, recognizing the location of the damage as the perfect place to disable me. Just as humans depend on their spine for motor functions, the importance of the android's spine goes further than that. It's impossible to heal myself without removal of the metal beam, and I'm powerless to move it myself. Some of my masters have done this exact thing to teach me lessons in my vague desire to escape.
Only able to move my head slowly, I look for my master. Not to surprisingly, he is slumped in the large chair, mouth hung open with trails of drool from the corners and his eyes cloudy in death. I can't decide if the sight pleases me or not. He wasn't a horrible master, just strict in his rules and punishments that I deserved.
Then I realize that I'm master-less. Panic floods through my system, probably programmed to prevent notions of freedom from our human controllers. I attempt to jerk from my trapped state and reach my master's body, but severe pain burns every part of my being at the slight movement. Hazy vision snaps to black, and before energy saving sleep overcomes me, I question silently if androids could ever be granted a peaceful death like the humans they mimic...
My attempt to be graceful while sitting down fails miserably as I smack against the relatively narrow tree trunk, cursing loud enough to startle a few birds out of the trees. Given the long day of walking under the sun, the bit of pain only adds to the hell that had been these last couple of weeks. I allow myself a few moments to limply enjoy the cooler shade of the forest, then lean forward to best adjust my ever bothersome wings and tail. Dark wings stretch out their limits, and after a few pleasurable cracks, I take better care in folding the leathery skin. The things are rather pointless beyond declaring my status as guardian and giving our High Goddess infinite pleasure at the sight of her half-humans, but certainly more trouble than they're worth. At least it's easier to intimidate the pure humans if they get too rowdy.
Running a hand through short hair, I have to close my eyes at the fall of sand. Fucking desert. But reluctantly I have to admit this is entirely my fault. I should've looked around the corner and checked if anyone was there before whining about the 'gifts' that the High Goddess blessed me with. A lesson for next time.
When I can feel my muscles getting cool and tight from sitting around too long, I get to my feet with only a bit of effort. After indulging with another large stretch of wings and arms, I move deep into the thick forest. As my punishment, I was ordered to travel out to this location to explore the source of a weak energy trace, as well as possibilities of expansion. Piece of bullshit if you ask me. No one is interested in moving out here where the electrical storms and monsters are the worse, not to mention the desert extending in this direction. Judging by the scattered wood I saw while walking this way, this forest was probably a lot larger at one point. No, this is just an excuse to toss me into the desert and see if I come back out alive. Too bad for them I don't die easily.
I spend the rest of the day fighting with the trees and vines for the safe passage of my folded wings. It's at times like this that I'm grateful for an excellent sense of direction. I was able to check my position last night, and I of course was dead on track. I can only hope I stay true to find this supposed energy source, as if that mattered much. Last time it was a deposit of special minerals electrolyzed by a heavy week of electric storms. Considering this signal was even weaker this time, it's probably a pond full of fish that naturally produce electricity. Tech idiots. So unwilling to understand there's nothing worthwhile on this shit planet.
Suddenly there's a break in the thick forest, light shining through the opening of the overhead canopy consisting of leaves and vines. My eyes open wide at the sight of a large... something of metal. I've never seen the shape before, this flat unbalanced building of sorts, though too small to serve any important service. Well, fuck me, the boys might have actually got this right about a new source of energy.
It takes me some time of circling the metal mess until I find a suitable entrance inside. Warily I take small steps within the odd building, the floor slanted underfoot. It'd be completely dark inside if it weren't for scattered holes along the walls including some large cracks like the one I came in through. I walk gingerly along the cold floor, bare feet not appreciating the shards of metal and glass. Eventually I come across a relatively large room and stand frozen in place at the sight before me.
A lone man is on his hands and knees next to a large chair at the back wall of the room. The pale skin practically shines in the dim light of the room, and dark hair that covers his downcast face intensifies the illusion of a glow. Then I make out a beam of metal angling from the ceiling that pierces through his lower back and embeds into the floor below.
Slowly, such that I don't notice right away, his head lifts up and softly glowing blue eyes look at me with a pained expression that dissolves away into a hopeful gaze.
"M, master... please... free me...?"
I can't move, the feeling of fear and disbelief holding me in place. He shouldn't be alive, not with that type of injury. Speaking of which, where's the blood? More closely examining at his body, I notice the image of a lion etched into his bare shoulder and I pale at the sight. I quickly stride up behind trapped figure and test the beam of metal to find it solid in place. Gritting myself for pain, I release the metal claws within my hand, the blades slicing through my fingertips. Relieved that my claws easily scratch the beam's metal, I stand back to swipe at the bar.
The second the beam is sliced, the entrapped god tries to hold back a scream at the vibrations along the metal. I waste a moment to look at the back covered barely by a loose shirt, whisper a plea of forgiveness, then place a foot on the fragile looking back to better pull the beam out from him. There's a whine of metal before it launches out from the ground and the body it claimed. As I stagger back into the wall, the god falls flat to the floor with an odd sigh.
"Ma...ster... may I... heal, pl...?"
I stare at the prone figure, intense confusion starting to make me feel ill. That's the second time he's called me 'master'. What mind-fuck game is this god playing with me?
Tossing the beam aside with a loud clang, I drop hurriedly to my knee and a fist to the floor. "Of course, holy one. Tell me what I can do to aid you." 'Aid'? What am I thinking? A fucking god doesn't need me beyond the barking dog role to keep pure humans inline.
There's a quiet moan that makes me look up at the deity, odd light flashing from the wound in his back. I watch as the flesh seems to move, soon only smooth skin where the hole had been. He slowly pushes himself up to sit back on his heels, the clinking of metal sounding with his move. My eyes settle on the sight of black collar encircling his throat and the leash of chain links attached to it. When he turns fully in this direction, my attention is easily captured by the amazing eyes, gray with electric blue shining within.
"Thank you, Master."
Bowing my head quickly, I silently curse my idiocy for looking into the eyes of the god. "Forgive me, holy one. I accept any punishment you deem worthy of my crime."
"My name is Squall, Master. I don't know this 'holy one' you speak of."
Shit, why did I have to get stuck with one of the insane gods?
"You have... wings?"
At a hesitant touch at the tip of my wing, I flinch violently backwards, falling to my ass. Afterwards I realize he didn't try to hurt me, but the fear of the intense pain that should have come doesn't drain from me quickly. Eyes wide, I stare at the deity before me, his expression of dread unnatural. Eventually he is the first to move out of our frozen states, gathering the lengthy chain leash in one hand.
Bowing his head slightly, he holds the leash out to me. "Will you accept me?"
"My god, I can't... I can't do that..." A test. This has to be a test of some sort.
"I don't please you, Master?"
"No... No, that's not... Holy one, please stop this game." I hate it when they reduce me to begging.
The deity straightens, a look of thought crossing his face. "Again you call me 'holy one'. Why?"
"Because you are marked as a god, holy one. I serve you with my life."
Eyes narrowed, he glances at his right shoulder then meets my gaze. "This isn't a mark of a god. It's only the company logo of my creators."
I chance another look at the symbol and easily recognize it as one that identifies some of the higher gods. "I know all the markings well, holy one. You are descendent of Griever."
"I am no god. I'm a mere toy that's been left master-less." He holds out the chain leash once more. "Will you accept me?"
Pushed too far with this test, I stand up quickly and glare down at the deity. "I don't know what you want from me, holy one. Punish me if you will, but I'm tired of this game."
When he does nothing to me, I stalk from the kneeling figure with the intention of escaping this fucked up building and its insane god. A groan of pain followed shortly by an odd sob stops me, and I look over to the deity. Hunched over with his face pressed against the metal floor, he clutches at the chain in his hands and bites his lower lip as if in pain. After a brief argument of what to do, I grunt out a sigh and return to kneel next to the god.
"What pains you, holy one?"
A god is immortal. A god is immune to sickness and injury. A god needs no one. And yet this deity before me is in true pain, a touch of panic within his glowing eyes that I recognize from punishments dealt to fellow guardians. He hasn't hurt me, or even threatened me for soiling his body with my touch. Maybe... maybe he isn't a god. No, I saw him heal from a wound that would've killed any human and not a single drop of blood was spilled. But...
With a hesitant hand I reach out and touch the chain leash in his hold. Instantly he relaxes out from the pain, a sigh leaving his lips as he gradually sits back on his feet. Slowly the deity lowers his hands, the leash soon left solely in my grip.
Pale pink lips form a weak smile. "Master."
What the fuck am I thinking?
"This..." He clutches the chain tightly in his hand. "This means nothing. It's just... you were... shit."
The pain gone and my thoughts finally clear with the acceptance of my new master, I take the time to look the large man over. He certainly is nothing like my previous masters, the odd features aside. A strong hand scratches short blonde hair in irritation, specks of sand flying from the stiff spikes. He wears a shirt that covers from one shoulder to his waist, leaving half of his darkly tanned chest bare. The sight of a silver nipple ring intrigues me, looking much like the ones only androids are supposed to wear. The lower half of his body is covered in dark leather pants that match the brown, nearly black color of his wings and tail. Looking further, his bare feet seem to have claws instead of toenails.
My head snaps up and I look directly into bright green eyes, pupils looking much like that of a cat.
"Would you at least pay attention when I'm being an idiot?" His strange eyes widen in apparent shock at his own words and then he quickly looks aside while mumbling something I can't understand.
"May I have your hand, Master?" I hold out mine palm up.
He stares at it warily. "Why?"
"To finish your claim."
Eyes glance back up to meet my gaze. Time stretches as we stare at each other, the large man looking oddly like a beaten puppy, and yet too proud to back away from any danger. Slowly he places a hand in mine, his breath held in anticipation. I softly press a couple of fingers along the underside of his wrist and immediately inject and retract two small needles into his flesh. He jerks his hand away, but then only looks curiously at his wrist.
Meanwhile I briefly examine the information I receive from his drawn blood and the transmitter implanted into his body. That he was genetically transformed to his almost demon state doesn't surprise me, but makes me curious of the laws that ban such changes to the human body. However, most important at this moment is his rapid heartbeats and irregular body functions. What could make my master so nervous and afraid like this?
"Master, did I hurt you much?"
The blonde starts at my voice. "No... not nearly as much as I deserve," he whispers.
"If I may ask, how long has it been? Since the crash."
The blonde looks up at the question, confused. "The crash...? Do you mean the Heavenly Fall?"
Though uncertain of the term, I decide to nod.
"Thousands of years, holy one. It was the beginning of time, of our creation."
I resist a small smile at the return of that term of his, as if he suddenly remembered that he was speaking to someone who he thinks is a god. I wonder what my master is truly like if he has to force this current way of speaking. Tonight I'll have to change his perception of me. As for this talk about the beginning of creation... something haunts me about those words.
At the cry of a bird, I look up through the holes of the ship and notice the lateness of day. "Perhaps I should setup camp?"
"Ah. It'll be getting dark soon enough." He stands first, then looks startled at the noise caused by the leash in his hands. "I... can this be taken off?"
I stare at him stunned. No, he obviously doesn't understand what it means to release my chains, to prove his trust in me. Still, I can't help but to feel honored. At my nod, he leans down and unlatches the leash with great care, then lets the chains fall to the ground. Stiffly, my master turns and leaves while muttering something about water. Alone, I take the leash in hand and wrap it along my waist three times before latching it to form a type of belt. Never know when he may demand my chains to be replaced.
Standing for the first time in too long, I get my first real look at the damaged escape vessel. Over the years, I set my sensors to wake me to the sound of approaching footsteps as to preserve as much energy as I could and yet be prepared for the coming of a new master. Even so, I witnessed strange animals rip apart my former master and take away his bones, the sight causing me extreme agony. The beasts had gratefully left me alone, perhaps wary of my smell. But I have to assume the other fourteen people that were onboard met the same fate as my master. Not like it would matter now, anyhow.
Working my way through debris, I eventually locate a couple survival packs. There is no way to be certain what made it through the crash without damage until I test the equipment. Half of the materials could probably be dumped given no food could last this long and it'd be pointless to setup tracking beacons. Sighing, I lift the two large packs and make my way outside to create a campsite.
By the time I finish setting up an electric field to ward off animals, I hear my master return. When he stops a short distance away instead of approaching, I stand up and turn to look at him. The large man holds a water container in one hand and some kind of animal in the other. Again I'm struck with how different my master appears compared to all others before him.
"You aren't like the rest of them."
I blink, momentarily confused at having my thoughts said to me. "Master?"
"Fuck, stop calling me that. I can't... The name is Seifer."
I nod, uncertain if my programming would let me call him by name. I've never had such an offer before.
"And as I was saying, you aren't like the other gods. Only the High Goddess dresses like you, the rest wearing robes that cover practically everything except a slit sleeve to show their mark. And certainly none of them would willingly kneel on the bare ground."
"I'm not a god."
He eyes me, the green irises bright in thought. "Right... Squall, was it?"
I smile slightly. "Yes."
My master shakes his head, disbelief still obvious in his expression. He walks closer, noticing the area I setup for the night. "What the hell is all this?" he asks in a voice hinted with awe.
With night upon us and dinner finished, I stare at the flames of a fire I built and try to digest the conflicting information in my head. This 'Squall'... I know for certain he is a god. Only they understand the technology that is currently surrounding the two of us in protection for the night. Only they are so perfect in body and movement. Only they could have survived such an injury that he bore.
And yet he in no way acts like the gods I've served all my life. Against what I may have believed before, being presented with this gentle god confuses me beyond reason and makes me even more wary of his plans. I can think of over ten things I've done that should've brought me agonizing pain and a drawn out death, but the god has done nothing to me. In fact, he's been completely silent since vaguely explaining the devices surrounding us.
Without warning cool hands are on my shoulders, the touch making me stiffen in preparation of pain that should flow through me.
"Does my touch bother you, Master?"
Shit, if I'm not insane by the time I return this god to the High Goddess, I'll be thoroughly impressed with myself. "Stop calling me that. It's Seifer."
"Why do you fear me?" Unexpectedly, the hands knead along taunt muscles and I have to bite back an inappropriate moan.
"Gods only touch half-humans when dealing out punishment," I manage through gritted teeth. "And they never come in contact with pure humans."
He hums in reply, cool hands continuing the blissful torment. I should stop him. This could be a test to see if I would take advantage of a confused god. But considering all I've done thus far, it can't get much worse than the torturous death I'm already guaranteed. When those hands then brush against the base of my wings, I can't repress the flinch. It's the one thing I fear the most, my wings being extremely sensitive to any injury. Only twice I've had them broken - once to show me the extent of pain and once in punishment of my attitude - and I'd rather beg for death than let it happen again.
Without a word, the god stands from his place behind me and walks to one of the bags he took from the strange building. The pleasurable hands gone, I can breathe in relief and try to resort my hazy thoughts. But before I make much progress, he is behind me once more.
"Your wings are damaged. I'm going to place something on them to help the healing."
I quickly move forward and then stand at the words, only facing him when some distance is between us. "No."
"You're not going to fucking touch my wings!"
His expression scrunches slightly as if in thought. "S, Sei-fer. Let me help."
After a stunned moment, I laugh much louder than was called for. "You can't even manage my name without disgust! Why should I trust you to touch me?"
Oddly, he looks to the ground to avoid my eyes. "I'm no better than you. It's hard to go against my programming to say your name."
The melancholy tone calms me. "Programming...?"
"Just as you've been trained, I've been programmed."
"How... you're a god." And how many times do I have to point this out? Shit, I feel like I'm just trying to remind myself that I shouldn't believe anything he tells me.
He sighs frustrated, then looks at me with those softly glowing eyes. "Sit down... Se-i-fer. I won't hurt you. I can't hurt you."
I don't know how long the internal debate goes on within my head, all the while with the dark haired god only watching me silently. Maybe hopefully. Growling at my cowardliness, I return to where I was before and sit on the ground rather roughly. Once I'm settled, he almost immediately places a hand onto the base of my wing, something creamy and cold placed onto the dark flesh. I shiver at the feel of it, the tingling sensation replacing unrealized ache.
"I've done some thinking..." he starts somewhat hesitantly. "But I'm not certain about much. First, does this 'High Goddess' of yours have a name."
I tense at the question, but gentle hands along sensitive wings easily soothes me. "Her name mustn't be spoken."
"But you know her name?"
"I hear the gods talking amongst themselves." When I should be ignoring their words except for direct orders, but that's beside the point.
"Tell me. I won't betray you."
Just then he brushes cream along a hot spot, a moan escaping my lips. "Heavens..."
Sq-- The god chuckles lightly, the sound causing even more chills to course through my body.
"It's Rinoa. She's the High Goddess."
His hands still instantly. "No."
I nod while shifting my body just slightly in hopes he'll continue the massage. "That's what the other gods call her."
Blessedly, his hands finish their work along my wings. "Then I hold sincere pity for your race."
The absolute seriousness in his voice makes me laugh despite my training. How often have I thought the same, that a higher being damned us with such a goddess and gods to make our lives hell. Though I never imagined hearing it from the lips of a god.
"But it explains much. I can see why you believe me a god." His hands move lower, kneading my lower back with just the right pressure.
'Believe' him a god? Then, I am mistaken in his identity some how? Thumbs press up against my spine, making me arc in pleasure and drive such thoughts from my mind. I know these hands can break bones without effort. I've witnessed an angered god tear off a guardian's head with a single swipe. Plenty of times I've fallen because of some unseen power that makes my body convulse out of control. But never have I imagined such pleasure by the same hands.
In time his focus returns to my shoulders, and he slowly adds pressure to guide me down to the ground. When he moves to the side of me, I'm struck by his beauty within the shifting light of the fire. Such pale skin, never abused by the sun like mine. His body frame is so lean, almost feminine in shape and grace. The shirt he wears is loose with straps along the top that leaves his shoulders bare, the sight of the lion design once again reminding me of his importance. But then he shifts, clearly hiding that image from my view. Gray eyes shining with blue silently scold my thoughts.
Forgotten hands are upon me once more, stroking and pressing against tight muscles. Ashamedly, I whimper when fingers brush against my identifying ring. The deity seems to obsess over the metal loop, maybe enjoying the sounds he forces out of me. I barely notice when he moves, pushing my legs aside for him to kneel between. As his hands go lower to caress along my sides, he leans down to where no god should go. Next thing I'm aware of is cool evening air around heated flesh, which is then quickly covered by a moist and warm mouth.
"Holy fucking shit!" I try to move away from him, but he grasps my hips with that incredible strength of the gods.
The workings of his tongue quickly prevent any coherent words from leaving my mouth. Wings stretching on their own against the ground, I arc high from the overwhelming pleasure. When I command myself that I must not dare to thrust into that delicious mouth, my body only seems to catch the 'thrust' part of the demand. The god only hums something along my length, nerves across my body pulsing with energy in response.
My hands braced against the ground, I find myself mumbling random curses with the wrong thing wrapped within the string of words. It's impossible that I'm repeating his name, enjoying the way it fills my mouth and causes him to suck even harder. I can't like this, I can't want this, and I certainly can't--
After the sudden release, drop limply back to the ground and feel him draw the remaining cum from my cock. Palms pressed hard against closed eyes, I try to drive away the image of my head on a pike and my severed dick hanging out of my mouth, a perfect punishment for this additional crime to my continuing list. How could I possibly do so much wrong within one fucking day?!
"Seifer! Your hands." Suddenly a hand is pulled from my face, the god gently holding it between his hands before licking at the blood caused from the unintentional release of my claws.
I stare at him dazedly before managing a weak smirk. "You said my name right."
He pauses momentarily at his task before continuing to lap up the blood.
Using my free hand and wings, I sit up to better face the deity. "What do you want from me?"
"You accepted me. I have all I want."
Something about the tone and phrasing makes me realize things I didn't want to notice. Being 'master-less' left him in agony. He wore a collar and chain, a chain I had held. He mentioned that 'I'm no better than you'. Maybe... he has a similar existence to myself. I don't, can't understand how it's possible, but perhaps he'll explain things to me if I ask.
I take my hand from his and retract the deadly claws before cupping his cheek, blood bright red along the pale skin. He leans into the touch, those amazing eyes connecting with mine without emotion. I wish I knew what was really happening beyond that shield, some sign to prove to me that he is honest with his words and actions. I brush a thumb along his bottom lip, the god taking the bloodied tip into his mouth and sucking gently.
"What am I supposed to do with you?"
Author's Whining -- Whee, starting a new request. Have to say thank you to Jamaica for being so patient for her request. Sorry about Squall and Seifer being rather OOC, but it's kind of required given the plotline. Hopefully that'll change a bit as the story continues.
Return to Archive | next