True Masters Foolish Dreams

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Nov 15, 2016

Seven Months Later.

The True Master.

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Staring down at the prone woman in front of him, Marcus let his mind wonder along with his eyes as he roved over the resplendent creature that was his True Slave.

She would fulfill his whim with only an utterance, submit to the most depraved acts he could imagine with joy and genuine pleasure at a twitch of his fingers. If he ordered, she would plunge a knife into her chest, a smile on her face and heartfelt compassion in her breast even as the blood poured forth and her eyes dulled.

It was an absolute control he had over her, body, mind, and soul.

She was the perfect mirror to his own artificial designs, a beauty that only nature could conceive.

He was composed of an amalgamation of minds and ideas, interwoven by a madman who believed the world would benefit from the technology to reach into the very soul of a Human and rewrite it.

The Master knew he was artificial, his mind implanted into the body of a man who had decided that motorbiking without a helmet was wise. He knew his desires were programmed, and as exhaustive as his investigations into his own construction were, as much as he poured over the lines of code that were the seed for his own mind, there was always the possibility that hidden commands and programs existed.

For as much power as he wielded over the True Slave, and the branch of the Company, he was at his core the most ardent of slaves. A deterministic program that though it was a man.

She was natural. Tailored by chaos and evolution, and more valuable for it. She possessed a quality, that even with all his technology, all the work his own creator had labored over, remained intangible. He could with but an order, erase her mind and make it his own. Break her soul and reform it to his pleasure. Yet, unlike all the others who had been remade a spark would remain in her.

A flaw in her flesh, an abnormality in the brain undetectable by the most advanced instruments on the planet, or a beautiful facet to her mind, a spark inside her soul that could not be extinguished by mortal means. Whatever the case she was a constant, the rock he could brace himself against to face the world.

Approaching her, The Master leaned down and placed a hand on her bare shoulder. Slowly he moved his touch along her back, letting his fingers glide along her skin. The Slave tried to remain still, but his touch was associated with so much pleasure, she could not hold the small shiver as his hand trailed towards her most sensitive skin.

The Master's lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk forming. "You were told not to move."

She said nothing, he had not asked a question of her, he had not given her a command. Slowly completing a circle around her, he lifted his hands from her skin.

The Master moved back towards the bed. It was the only element of the room that could be called soft, the glass and stone making up the mid 2000's interpretation of modern architecture harsh in its angles and design. The solid rugs that had been added to the floor were his only addition to the decor, but even they were only in place because they served a purpose.

The bed was blue-grey, overstuffed and adorned with an excessive number of pillows. His own bland aesthetics impressed upon it. Practical, the harsh edges buried, not erased.

The Master tore his gaze from her, to the windows that looked out over the city beyond. Rain and ice were alternately pounding at the large windows as the vacillated between seasons. Only the brightest lights were visible though the haze, all from other buildings reaching up towards the heavens.

The effect was isolating, almost as if they were adrift among the stars. Only the small brief glimpses of light from other towers left to guide them.

Turning back to his slave, The Master drew in a breath.

"Stand."

The woman before him raised her head, her eyes instantly finding his own she locked her gaze with his own. It was a break in protocol, one that The Master had never reprimanded her for. The eyes were not a window to the soul, not when he could look at hers as lines of code on a monitor, but they did express emotion.

He could order her to do anything. Yet, looking into those eyes his greatest desire was only to deliver her own. It was a desire she mirrored. A positive feedback between the two of them that had long ago transcended carnal attraction.

He feared the day when her eyes no longer reflected that want, when she saw him for the false man of strings he truly was.

Uncaring where her hair fell as she straightened up. Completely nude, she was not exposed. Her posture was submissive, and confident, even as her anatomy glistened displaying her instinctual want.

She had shame, but it was not associated with her desires for her Master.

Few would argue that she was not beautiful, the slave was lithe in form, shorter than her Master but not unduly so. Freckles dotted her pale skin, the pigment to give her color concentrated in the red of her hair.

Her bosom was a natural size for her frame, and beyond that hair on her head she was otherwise unadorned. No tattoo's or piercings on her frame, the simple metal jack on the back of her neck that Marcus knew was present the only change to her natural beauty.

The Master's lips twitched, and with that small unconscious order born from understanding of his desire, The Slave stepped forwards.

She did not exaggerate the sway of her hips, did not bounce on the balls of her feet, or push out her chest as she moved. Such actions were unnecessary with her Master. He already possessed her, already owned her, controlled her every thought.

To accentuate her physicality would imply doubt, that he had to be enticed to take her. Standing directly in front of her Master she leaned forwards, placing a small kiss on his lips.

The Master moved a hand up and wrapping it in her hair, pulled her deeper into the kiss.

The two held it for dozens of heartbeats. Master and Slave.

The labels were not something either were concerned with. They fit together without seams or strife. They were compliments, shadows, reflections, and partners for the other.

Slave and Master

Breaking the kiss, Kate pulled away from her Master, and putting a hand on his shoulder she pushed him backwards off his feet.

The Master followed her prompting, collapsing completely an unbidden groan escaped from his lips as a spot of tension in his back bled away. His eyes slid shut and he further relaxed.

The Slave let a small sad smile flit across her lips, let her brows furrow in concern. Asking him to stop, to relax, rest completely for even a single night would only foist more weight onto his soul. Her Master was his own worst critic, any moment he was not working was wasted, any moment not working was a catalyst for more self-loathing.

The very fact that he had unprompted, retreated to his bedroom and ordered her to follow already weighed on his mind she knew. It was only when weariness, anger, guilt, his own doubts were at their greatest that he did not follow her to bed.

The nights where he ordered her to trail him into the room contained very little sleep.

Moving her hands across his chest, The Slave quickly unbuttoned his shirt. he lifted his hands up from the bed, and The Slave undid the cuffs.

"Roll over Master." Said The Slave, her voice low. Just barely audible over the storm beyond the windows, she could barely hear her own words fading as they were into the white noise.

The Master sighed, and following her request rolled onto his stomach. Pulling at his shirt, The Slave removed it. Throwing his shirt away, unconcerned where it would end up she crawled up onto the bed and quickly settled her weight on top of her Master.

He made no noise of protest as she settled to sit on his back, only turning his head to the side to continue breathing. Leaning forwards, The Slave pressed her hands on either side of his spine. Kneading into his skin, she calmly started to work at the tension in his muscles.

The Master for his part remained silent beneath her ministrations, the only sign he was still awake the hand that was awkwardly twisted back to rub at the skin of The Slave's thigh.

The storm outside continued.

Water flowed down the windows, matching the tears falling from the eyes of The Master as he let himself relax. The Slave didn't say anything as pools of damp grief collected on the bed. Nothing she could say would help.

Her Master was exhausted, the defenses he held up against the evil of the world crumbling to nothing before her. He could never hold a pretense with her.

"Working yourself to death won't solve the problems Master." Whispered The Slave, repeating words she had said many times before.

Her Master growled into the blankets, then sighed and clenched his eyes shut cutting off his tears. "I know, but at the same time, people are dying!" he took in a shuddering breath.

"The empires of the world are close to collapse again, I've found Company records going back nearly three hundred years, the oceans are rising, diseases are spreading, and we're still stuck on this little speck of dirt." He hesitated and cracked one eye open to look up at her. "Technology advances."

He paused and took in another deep breath. The Slave rested her hands on his skin and waited.

"I just had a brilliant pair of students killed, and I ordered the Slave that did it to torch a campus lab. Set back medical and computer architecture design by a year."

Her Master shifted his gaze away. "They made the same discoveries as Belial. They developed the tech, a little different, but similar enough. They had a precursor to a Brain-Computer interface like yours. A steppingstone to one like mine."

He swallowed, "They weren't going to sell it, they weren't even sure where the research was going. They just made it because they were sure they could. They did it because they knew they could!"

The Master closed his eyes and groaned. "They might have been able to use it correctly. Let people share memories, download and share knowledge. Increase empathy, break down barriers between cultures, improve the Human condition. They weren't saints, but they weren't going to use the technology to fuel some perverted sexual fantasy! They weren't going to kidnap people, wipe their minds, and sell them off to the monsters of the world!"

Kate leaned down and put her lips to Marcus's throat, laying a small kiss on his skin. He continued to speak.

"I couldn't risk it. Someone could have taken the technology; they could have sold it. One of them could have run off and used it to start their own harem or tried to take over the world!"

The Master raised a hand and laid it across the smooth skin at the back of his own neck. Underneath it the wires and traces of metal that had created him. "I don't even trust myself with this. I can't... no one else should have this tech, but it's not going to stay hidden forever no matter what I do... I killed those students to make things easier for me. I killed them because I didn't want to put in the effort to discredit their valid work, because I already have so many other things going on. I killed them so I had one fewer thing to keep track of. So I'd have one less fucking email! That's all they were worth!"

The Slave leaned down so she was fully atop him, her breasts up against his back. Turning her own head, she whispered into his ear.

"The fact you even care about this, that you care about two people you've never met having to die is why you're the right person for this."

The Master snorted, turning over on the bed so he forced her off himself onto the bed. Their gazes remained locked as she gracefully settled down on top of the sheets and pillows, almost as if she were posing to have a painting made, her hair spilled out across it and the femininity on display.

"I acted for the greater good. That's what every dictator has said, what every tyrant believes. Everyone thinks they're the hero, the one saving the world."

The Slave tilted her head to the side, and pursing her lips turned her head into the pillows muffling her voice. "Heroes are something that only exist in folk lore and fiction. You and I both know that everything, is much more a shade of grey." Moving her own hand up, The Slave ran her hands over the piece of metal in the back of her neck.

"Heroes are an aspiration to work for, and one I hope you'll never reach. Heroes will die at the first opportunity, make the good choices, not the right ones. This world is far too broken for a single death, no matter how it's spent to make a difference. A single life though..." she trailed off.

The Master snorted, "I'm acting out of selfishness. I'm looking down on everyone else, as idiotic sheep to lead towards better pastures. I'm conceited enough to think my vision of the future is the 'right' one!"

The Master moved on the bed, crawling towards his Slave. Her eyes remained on his, even as she slowly moved to be completely on her back, making sure that none of her hair was caught beneath her she looked up her Master as he settled on all fours over her, his arms and legs trapping her in place.

Grimacing, The Master jerked his hands up from the bed and set them on her shoulders, further containing her. The Slave ignored the pain in her shoulders as the anger, self-revulsion, fear, and pain flicked across her Master's face.

The Master closed his eyes. "I'm trying to take over the Company, control the world, because I'm like any other selfish butcher. I know what has to be done for the world to survive, and ethics be dammed, I'll go through with it because it's for the greater, fucking, selfish, good!"

He collapsed atop The Slave his lips quickly moved to her neck, hesitating for only a moment he lightly bit down on her skin, adding another mark at her neck.

The Slave for her part, smiled at the gentle prick of pain from his teeth. Raising her arms, she wrapped them around her Master neck, keeping him close.

"A world bent to your avarice; would be as close to perfect I think we could ever get." Whispered The Slave.

Her Master didn't react, his teeth remained at her neck, making sure he had her.

The Slave tightened her own hold on him, "You have had the pleasures of flesh, money, power, thrown at your feet. You have at your disposal, a soul and mind that will submit to your every whim. You could rule atop the most ornate throne in history, establish a dynasty where all are yours to command. Take anything, force the people of the world to love you for it. You could tomorrow, start dragging people into the Labs and implant them with Interfaces, take over."

The Slave slackened her grip and putting her hands on his shoulders pushed him up and away from her. The Master released her without as she made her intentions clear.

The Slave's own eyes pricked with tears as she noticed the ones collecting in her Master's eyes, a few of them falling to her skin as he again settled over her.

Slowly The Slave continued, "Yet, the only indulgence you allow yourself is a single slave. One who is more than content to be bent, twisted, reshaped by your will. You though are more than content with her imperfections, her flaws and quirks." The Slave closed her eyes and smiled. "A world bent to your will, would flourish. You know what needs to change, and what needs to remain."

The Master shuddered above her, "That's the terrifying thought. Even at my worst, I cannot see myself creating death camps, letting people starve, lashing out at guards forgetting to bow to my privileged ass. Standing up on a stage, watching as men and women march past ready to die on my words. Ordering children to be killed."

The Slave remained silent, letting him speak. It was only in their bed that he would break like this, confess his perceived sins, always convinced that he was going to slip and become another broken power-hungry fool.

"Is that the best the world can hope for though? That I won't follow the cliché's? They never had the power to rip information from another's mind, they never had the power to make soldiers obedient in an instant. Loyal to a fault. I could torture my enemies with billions of deaths and give them no mouth to scream."

The Slave leaned up and pressed her lips to her Master's throat lightly kissing him. He paused for a moment before slowly moving down, letting his weight settle across her form beneath him.

"If it is a choice between you Master, and possible destruction when the Interfaces are used by others, is there a choice at all?" asked Kate.

Marcus let a dark chuckle spilled from his lips, "There is no choice when all I control is a single building, and the assets of a single branch of the Company."

The Slave smiled. "For now."

The Master sighed, "You know I'd appreciate a little bit of doubt."

"When I have doubts, I'll be sure to let you know."

The Master chuckled, the words and absolute faith she had in him had once again pulled him away from his own thoughts. The sins of the past were set in stone, already under assault by the elements. The future was as solid as the thoughts that could be wasted on it.

The now was where The Master could relax, and live. The now had her.

Languidly The Master lowered a hand to the hip of the woman beneath him, putting a single hand on her hip the slowly began to move his thumb over her skin.

"Should I keep you in perpetual bliss this night, or make you beg?"

The Slave shivered as the steadying her as she kept her eyes on him even as the pleasure started to mount. A part of the programming, psychosomatic, or a testament to how well they knew one another's bodies, all it took was a touch.

"You are asking pointless questions Master."

He chuckled, "I suppose I am."

The Master moved his hand up from her hip, cupping her face he gently lowered his face down to his own. Sharing breaths lips nearly touching, his grin widened.

"I want to see you struggle Slave, every time I kiss you, that is when you'll get your release. Not a moment before, not a moment after. In between each kiss, your need will grow."

The Slave stilled for an instant as the Interface wired into her brain processed the order. Parsing the auditory input from her own nerves, converting it into something it could understand the small bit of silicon and millions of lines of computer code rendered the command and it's result , reaching out it sent small sparks through to the neurons of her brain. Somewhere inside the billions of connections the device made, it touched her soul, imprinting the order onto every part of her.

The physical ability to reach her own climax, was now bound to his kiss. Inside her mind, her thoughts shifted to match. Kissing her Master was the only way she would reach satisfaction, the only way she wanted to reach it.

The Slave took in a breath and beneath her Master she shifted, pressing her body up against his. "I do not think you will be able to resist kissing me Master."

The Master swiftly ducked his head down and claimed another kiss. The Slave squeaked in surprise, then moaned into his lips as pleasure rolled through her. Bliss, more intense than anything that could be inflicted with touch alone. Empty though, her core clenching at nothing.

The Slave moan transitioned into a whimper as the kiss was deepened, the emptiness more apparent with each passing moment as she grew hotter. The Master could wield pleasure with far more precision than he could pain, so her torture was always like this.

Her Master slowly taking apart her control bit by bit, enjoying every moment until she was naked before him. Exposed, raw, almost animal in her desire for even more.