[Another one of my 'other' works, I know people hate my writing by now but here it is, English imperfect and all. The ones that continue to spam my mail box with their perverse excuse of education on what English literature is should know that their hate is being redirected into my writing. Thanks for that. I love to see people however email me with their thoughts and wishes on how my pieces should do and end, I like all ideas I get. As I need some more material to incorporate into these worlds I'm creating.
This is attempt of Cyber/Steam Punk universe and I hope I could continue this or make it a series if people like them. Again if you have any ideas or comment please leave your thoughts and be assured I read them all.
Thank you all.]
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I started to cry. My tears slowly fell down my cheek and onto the ground while I watched 5 mummies down in the ground slowly burning to cinders.
I was crying.
Loneliness encompassed me from all directions, I knew nothing will bring them back but I still waited for that perfect moment that would tell me; it was not in vain. I offered silent prayers to any deity good or evil, but my inner monologue was left with permanent silence. My siblings, my parents everyone butchered like animals by some random entity. Why or who still left unanswered. Our servants circled the burial mound, few crying, some silently sobbing but all of them shared my own pain. My family was loved deeply by everyone who met them and yet someone decided to butcher these perfect beings that knew nothing but love. Offer nothing but peace. And claim nothing but their own pain.
Why would someone just randomly butcher my wife while she was pregnant? Nobody would or could tell me, police had their own theories but still they never told me what or why.
A silent wind washed over the site, rustling few coats and hairs, revealing the mechanical parts that some of our servants had imbedded in them. Implants that replaced their old organs. Ears, eyes and few had implants randomly placed on their face. The reason was unknown, my father gave employment in these tough times to anyone that would work. Hard work was always appreciated, and yet someone decided to rip his head off his shoulders. I had my own suspicions. Some of these freaks came to our home, when we offered a peace of our hearts and yet they took that offer and replied with violence of their own.
My family was out and celebrating my recent graduation from college along with my high school sweetheart and wife, they planed my party for months in advance, naturally nothing was done in secret, and I attended my own party even though I shied away from any public and social gatherings. Hours into it we were attacked by black figures and that's all I remembered since I was first one that got shot and lost consciousness, my family on the other hand was not that lucky.
I woke up from my 'sleep' in a hospital bed surrounded by police officers, unending questions and sympathetic friends that tried not to be too pushy with their own feelings of necessary establishing their own moral compass by making me feel better. I appreciate that I wasn't used as a proxy for their own selfish self-improvement.
Black silhouette slowly drew my attention. On a tree branch sat a black raven. Watching the fire burn that slowly ate at my loved ones, one gaze in its cold eyes reminded me of what I lost, despair that was lost in mental gymnastics came back so soon reminded me of the pain I wanted to forget. I cursed at the raven silently. Still it's remained on the branch. Offering its own way of escorting the departed to the other leg of their journey.
"Lord. We need to go." After a while of staring someone approached me and in mechanical voice reminded me of my position in this small town.
Town? I should call it a village. 50 or so people were on my land. Living, working and breeding. Next few moments I gazed at the bird as it flapped its wings and started to fly away. It's destination unknown.
Turning toward the voice I was welcomed by my own personal maid, Helena. A 35 year old woman with raven black hair uniquely short, a long strand of hair draped over one side of her face, while the other was shaven completely down to almost a stubble. She looked younger, almost teenage young but by grace of many Gods she somehow froze time in a way that preserved her young features in a most alluring way. She was smaller than me at 5'8'' but still extremely beautiful. The only problem I have with her is her insatiable lust towards me, even while I had my wife her passion was unrestrained.
Black eyes, around her calm, unemotional face hid the true nature of this bitch. And I was her master.
Neon lights shined over the paved road while we headed toward the sign that stood on the side of the road telling everyone where they were. A house that stood tall and proud brick layout from old, slowly eroding pathway gave a sense of pride to anyone that stood in front of it but soon would be left aghast when the full beauty of this structure was posed in front of his or hers face. The 200 year old home was housing 6 people. 10 days ago that suddenly changed to 1. With servants having their own special house behind the large estate, the few people that would see it for the first time would think the home was a hotel for 30 people.
Entering the house, Helena stood outside as I walked into the dark walls that silently whispered. Motioning her in, she had no expression while she entered the home and closed the door. A second after that she started disrobing and dropped to her knees, started to fish around my pants. Amused by the busty maid I let her do what she wanted, my cock already fully erect and ready.
I know doing this now while I was mourning was questionable but I would either lose my mind or just try and off myself, any way this was my third option. Drown my sadness and despair by fucking the brains out of this lusty maid.
Helena took long hard strokes with her hands while licking her lips in delight. On her knees she looked positively enchanting as my cock grew bigger and stronger with each stroke of her hand. Minutes passed as I watched in utter delight, something kept creeping up on me in form of guilt and sadness but I kept brushing it off, pushing it down with every fiber of my being. I did not, no, I could not think about my family, I will always love them with every ounce of my being but I need my sanity. Grief is a funny thing. You need it but with it you are a broken man.
Mouth filled to the brim with my cock, Helena started to moan and soon brought herself to climax while sucking my dick. Glazed eyes watched me in wander as her nostrils puffed large amounts of air from her lungs. Her cyber implants neatly hidden by encroaching darkness but my hands, while stroking her head, found every bump and cold hard implant. Seconds later she ripped every remaining piece of remaining cloth that was on me, sound of tearing made my cock spring up in delight knowing that this woman would have my life in mere seconds if she wanted.
Naked, as the day we were both born, she mounted me and slid my cock in her moist, wet and waiting pussy. We locked eyes as I almost broke the wall on my right side by plunging her back hard onto it, the thud was loud and for a second I thought I broke some bones in this woman, but soon enough her exited shrill sounded through the dark home.
I began to drive my hips into her moist depths. Her eyes rolled slowly back into her skull while she started to grip me tightly with her sex, making me exited that I was bringing joy to someone, and in couple of strokes I came driving her into oncoming climax that took her mind like a freight train.
Helena panted in my mouth while she started to kiss me deeply and passionately. I was frozen. I found the kiss encroaching, a breach of etiquette between consenting adults that had set some unspoken boundaries. Granted, they were my own that I did not voice in any way, but I thought that it was obvious that my fucking here should never be pardoned. Even by Gods.
I grabbed her by the throat and with tears in my eyes I stared deeply into her eyes, still my cock was rock hard imbedded deep into her depths. My mind flew constantly to those 5 mummies that lied down on the mound while fire licked them clean. I pushed my hips further inside, slowly stopped by a fleshy wall, her mouth went into a slight upward arch that I deemed insulting. I pounded her head with my hand my muscles bulging while her legs gripped me tightly.
"I'll never let go." I heard a voice express its intention.
"Your consciousness took a while to kick in my handsome young Master." Helena's voice was bouncing off the walls.
I heard her speak but I did not know what she had said. Guilt slowly started to set in, my wife's remains weren't even cooled down and here I was fucking another woman, and clearly enjoying myself. The few moments that I spent contemplating my actions the woman that I was fucking, slamming and choking suddenly started to ride me to another one of her own climaxes. But this time it was more wild and she almost slammed me down with her strong arms while she bucked, kicked and screamed while kicking me out of my guilt ridden stupor. I let her throat go and grabbed her back with both hands while she drove herself over the edge in seemingly endless streams of climaxes.
Her cries were loud, the dead would wake up if that was a possibility, but this cyber maid wanted more and more from me, eliciting little reluctance on my part as I was willing to go that extra mile and provide endless pleasure to my faithful employee.
"Master, my dear Master." She cooed.
I let her go soon enough and she dropped down with a heavy plop, as I went into the bathroom and turned the shower. I washed the love juice that was on my hard cock, still unsatisfied standing tall and proud, washing it with my hand, slowly stroking it up and down. Thinking about my dead wife and the love making session we had just few weeks ago. I leaned my head on the wall as the sound of water blasted on my skin, I wept slowly, grief washing over me from everything. A heavy feeling. Not being with them, they were dead while I was still living. Scar on my body still sore, not even a week has passed I was almost mortally wounded and lying on my back.
I was still alive while they were on the other side.
A silent prayer, offering everything to Gods, anyone of them would do, as I promised to let them meet the culprits that did this to my loved ones. A dark thought crept inside as I envisioned every moment of their demise.
I did not want anything to do with what's on the TV so I went upstairs to my own room. A large sized bed welcomed me as I went into the sheets and slowly started to drift into sleep. I hugged a pillow with one of my arms inhaling, trying to find a spec of scent that my wife has left me behind, but I knew I was fishing for impossible. Couple of moments passed and I heard someone's feet approaching. As I went down my memory bank to see who could it be, I felt hand grip my erect cock and soon a familiar feel around it as Helena slowly dropped her cunt down my shaft. Covering us with a sheet she leaned against my body and we slept while I was still buried deep inside her moist depths.
As soon as I closed my eyes a bright light emanating from my window woke me up, I saw as a naked form of my maid, Helena, was moving up and down my erect penis. I felt incredible as her voice became louder and louder.
"Master, master." She called out to me while I followed her hips.
A ring on my phone, "Hello."
I answered the phone as my maid lustfully cooed with each bounce, "Yes...Faster....deeper."
