Dar Temptations Dar Desires

WARNING: This fic can be correctly categorized as smut, and as such will be operating based on porn logic, with characters occasionally acting OOC. It contains themes of cheating, adultery, betrayal, and netrorare. If none of these themes are for you, I suggest you turn back now. For those that are turned on by such sinful taboos, I believe you are in for a real treat.

Please remember, fantasy should be correctly interpreted as just that. A fantasy. It should go without saying that I do not morally support the actions represented in this story, and they should not be practiced by anyone for any reason.

However, I do find these themes to be sexually appealing, and know that many others do as well. As to whom I identify with, the seducer, the cheater, or the cuckold, that unfortunately will have to remain a mystery. As to whom the reader should identify with, that I will leave up to you.

Enjoy.

*****

The Master Chief moved through the broken landscape, his mind on full alert. He stepped quickly over each pile of rubble, the remains of a desolated colony all around him. Destroyed buildings casting long shadows by the light of a burning flame colored sky, their dark interiors the subject of his suspicion as he moved past them cautiously and in complete silence.

John glanced up at the sky, the destroyed hull of the Infinity hovering overhead like a wounded Titan. He tightened his grip on the assault rifle and continued moving forward, eyes warily checking his motion sensors for any hint of movement.

He passed the body of a Crimson clad Spartan IV, the young soldier's body lying motionless in the ruins of a window, shards of glass glittering on top of his Mjolnir armor.

John paused for a moment. He had been here before, and remembered this Spartan IV well. It had been him who had smashed the young inexperienced Spartan through the window, pushed a pistol underneath his chin, and pulled the trigger.

A small part of John felt bad for him. Some young kid fresh out of training who thought he could get a lucky jump on the Master Chief and make a name for himself.

Chief shook his head. He had to keep reminding himself that not everyone who graduated from Spartan training nowadays were indeed Spartans.

Some of them were, however, and that's what made him wary.

Somewhere he knew Cortana was watching him, her electric blue eyes examining his every movements. That was something he was used to. Even after her transformation from the digital into the corporeal Cortana still watched every mission and training session with analytic precision. It was useful to figure out faults in his combat methodology and increase the efficiency in his training, but he still found himself missing her guardian angel like presence with him on missions.

Nor was Blue Team with him this time. No, this time he would have to rely solely on his own abilities and skills.

That was alright though. The greater the challenge the better overcoming it felt, and John loved to win.

There was a slight blip on his motion sensor, a brief flash of red that momentarily lit up his HUD.

The hairs on the back of John's neck stiffened and he crouched down low, preferring to take a conservative approach to what he was sure was an imminent encounter. Suddenly the red blip flashed in his HUD again and the ground next to John erupted in a shower of bullets. John's reflexes kicked in before his brain even processed what was happening, the aged Spartan rolling swiftly to the left, a trail of bullets following him.

He rolled into a nearby building, posted against a wall, and began to return fire at the roof of an opposite building. He saw a flash of blue followed by a familiar shape, the thruster packs propelling the Spartan IV along the rooftops.

John gritted his teeth. "Spartan Locke," he muttered.

The Master Chief pounded down the street, legs turning into a blur as he sprinted as fast as he could. Still, Locke with his thrusters remained ahead of him. After a hundred yards Locke unexpectedly turned around, the Spartan IV using his thrusters to propel himself back towards Chief faster than anticipated. The Master Chief brought up his assault rifle, letting off several controlled bursts as Locke rocketed towards him.

Spartan Locke collided with the Master Chief, forcing the older Spartan backwards. John attempted to bring his assault rifle up again, but Locke tore it out of his hands, the rifle splashing in the mud as the two continued to fight.

Locke immediately went on the offensive, attacking with a strong right hook. John easily blocked it and counter attacked with his combat knife, the blade singing through the air and narrowly missing Locke's helmet. The Spartan IV danced away and withdrew his own combat knife.

The two combatants circled around each other, their heavy armored boots sinking deep into the mud. They came together in a flurry of thrust, counter thrust, and parry. Sparks flew as their blades collided together, the mud underneath them churning into a thick brown semi liquid as they continued their dance.

They broke apart just long enough for both to catch their breaths.

Locke nodded at John. "You're getting slow in your old age."

John readjusted his grip on the combat knife. "And you're too inexperienced."

"Hmmph," Locke hummed, bringing his knife up, its edge pointing at John's face. He brought up his free hand and motioned for John to come closer.

The Master Chief did not have to be told twice. He lunged at the younger Spartan, intent on finally putting an end to it. The two grappled, matching strength for strength. John put all his weight and strength behind his arms, willing his body past its own limitations, but much to his surprise it was Locke who was winning the struggle.

The danger alarms in John's head sounded and he attempted to pull away, but the attempted retreat merely provided an opportunity for Locke. The Spartan IV pushed his advantage, a sudden surge of reserve strength forcing John down on one knee and into the mud, Locke standing tall over him.

Somewhere in the bowels of Infinity, Cortana watched the death struggle on screen, the dim light glowing on her pale white face.

"Come on John," she quietly urged. Locke stood tall and proud, his posture a full display of male dominance. He forced John even further down into the mud. John attempted to rise again but was met with only more pain as Locke twisted both of Chief's arms at an angle that made Cortana cringe.

It was like watching two males fight for dominance, and Cortana willed for her chosen mate to find some reserve of energy.

"Get up," Cortana urged again, a little louder this time. "You can do it John."

But for once Cortana was wrong. When for the third and final time John attempted to get back up off his knees, Locke head butted him savagely, causing John to sprawl fully on his back. Locke stood on his chest, pressing the Master Chief further down into the thick brown mud like a conquering king.

Cortana felt a shiver roll up her spine. Something she interpreted as fear, but her subconscious saw as far more different. Something far more primal.

Locke took out his pistol, aimed coolly at John's face, and fired.

Cortana thudded her forehead on the screen in frustration as Roland's voice echoed on the speakers overhead.

TRAINING SIMULATION 249-ED3 OVER. THE WINNER IS SPARTAN JAMESON LOCKE. GOOD JOB TO ALL OF YOU SPARTANS.

"Well, that was surprising," said a slightly cocky feminine voice from behind Cortana. Palmer raised a slender eyebrow at her. "I was expecting a IV to beat a II eventually, but I never expected it would be him that lost."

Cortana huffed and blew a stray strand of short raven black hair out of her face. She knew that she should not be angry at Palmer, but her naturally protective nature towards John made it hard not to. "And to think, it only took twenty-two of your Spartans to take him down. I'd like to see any one of them take on the odds Chief has."

"This was Elimination Deathmatch though," Lasky said standing a few feet behind Palmer, his chin cupped in his hand and his brow furrowed in thought, watching the display screen as the holographic arena reset. What was once a destroyed city now because an almost painful plane of bleach white. Throughout the arena, the scattered bodies of the fallen Spartan IVs began to stir, as well as one very disgruntled II. As the others realized what had happened, they began to crowd around Locke, slapping his armor and bumping their helmets against his. Cortana watched with a frown as John firmly shook Locke's hand, and then slumped off on his own.

Lasky sighed heavily. "The Master Chief has never participated in a Deathmatch simulation with only Spartan IVs. One of the theories bouncing around HIGHCOM is that the IIs work together during their Deathmatch session to ensure that they are always the last ones standing no matter who wins. I'm really not looking forward to seeing Osman's smug face when I told her the outcome of this match."

Cortana folded her arms across her chest, the wrinkled and lightly stained lab coat doing little to hide her curvaceous figure. "And I suppose they'll conveniently ignore that Fred, Kelly, and Linda all won their matches?"

"Bingo," Palmer said. "Never underestimate HIGHCOM's ability to cherry pick data they like and ignore all the facts they determine inconvenient."

Behind her Lasky muttered, more to himself than to them. "If it was any of the others I might have made a case, but Chief?" He shook his head. "I've got to go make a call. Ladies, if you'll say a prayer for me."

"Always, Thomas," Palmer smiled, her eyes lingering on him as he walked out. She then turned back towards Cortana. "You know how much I respect the Master Chief, but can you at least try to see things from my perspective?"

Cortana glared at her. "How exactly?"

"You might not like the outcome, but the bottom line is that this is a big deal for the Spartan program. Chief losing gives the Branch a lot more legitimacy in a lot of people's eyes."

"By taking it away from John," Cortana said stubbornly. "He is the best Spartan that ever lived."

"Was the best," Palmer countered. She spared a glance at the viewing screen, Locke just now making his way out of the arena. "Looks like there might just be someone else who will be able to claim that title." She smiled at the younger woman, and gently bumped Cortana's shoulder on her way out of the room. "Not that bad to look at either."

Cortana silently fumed, but forced herself to regain control of her emotions. It clouded her logic. John was the best, that much was without a doubt.

It was twenty-two against one, she thought, but immediately dismissed that as a reason. It was a melee after all. A free for all Deathmatch. While Cortana remembered at least a few times during the match that Chief had to take on multiple opponents at once, the nature of the simulation did not allow for much cooperation or coordination between participants.

Unless you're a Spartan II that is, Cortana thought, remembering the ONI criticism that Lasky had mentioned. She dismissed that thought as well. John was not a man who cheated, Cortana remembering well his insistence on Reach about completing their first mission together within the rules set up by the ONI Testers. She had found him frustratingly stubborn at the time, but it spoke volumes about his overall character, and one of the things that had eventually made Cortana fall for him.

No, Cortana reasoned. There had to be something else. Some sort of ONI armor upgrade they had secretly given Locke to increase his odds of winning, or perhaps subtly sabotaging John's armor. Even making the Mjolnir one percent less effective could have enormous consequences for the user.

Cortana determined herself to find out, walking swiftly out of the observation room with her head held high and a newfound sense of purpose.

Her path towards John took her through what Roland had affectionately dubbed Spartan Land, the other Spartan IVs busying themselves with taking off their armor, support technicians scrambling around to run diagnostics and make the necessary repairs and tune ups. Cortana had to admit to herself that the Spartan IV area was impressive, even if the solid white coloring of the room gave it a sterile and overly clean feel to it.

Out of the corner of her eye Cortana saw several of the Spartan men hitting each other on the arm as she walked past, their eyes following her. Sexual, and sometimes raunchy comments coming from underneath their breath just quiet enough to where Cortana could not make out what they were saying.

Cortana did her best to conceal her smile, and made her hips sway just a little bit more as she walked. That she took such enjoyment out of the male gaze was her little secret, something that she guessed not even John knew. There was, after all, a reason why she had chosen as an AI to take the form of a young, beautiful, attractive woman. There was power in her looks, and a secret thrill of knowing just how desirable she was. She could have any man that she wanted, but they could never have her.

None of them will ever be good enough and they know it, Cortana thought evilly. The ability to indulge within her own fantasy of being that bad gave her a secret thrill. It was part of the reason why sex with John was so fulfilling. He was the best, and Cortana was so attractive that she could claim the best. That she was so irresistible that even the Master Chief was seduced by the temptation; years of conditioning and sexual repression being thrown away the moment he saw her naked, vulnerable, and human form splayed out for him on his bed, her sex parted and waiting for him.

Cortana imagined all those young and eager Spartan IVs watching as John fucked her. She imagined the dismay on their faces as they all realized how inadequate they were. She imagined looking at them, arms wrapped around John's muscular back, his hips slamming away at hers. Cortana smiled cruelly at them and said No, none of you will ever have me. None of you will ever be good enough. I'm the best, and I deserve the best. You little boys just don't measure up.

A tingle went up Cortana's spine as she continued to daydream about how John would show those little IVs what a real Spartan looked like. How she could revel and berate them about how much better he was than them. It truly was bad, Cortana knew, and that was what made it so thrilling.

Cortana got so lost in her daydream that she failed to pay attention to where she was going. The inevitable happened when she collided with a wall of hard muscle. Cortana collided so hard that she nearly stumbled off her feet. Two strong hands grabbed both her shoulders to steady her, and a deep smooth voice asked, "You alright there little lady?"

Cortana looked up to see Spartan Jameson Locke smiling down at her, and her eyes immediately narrowed into harsh slits as sharp as daggers. "I am not your little lady," Cortana said in a voice so harsh that she almost growled. She sounded most like Halsey when she was angry, but Locke seemed unfazed.

"I'm sorry," Locke apologized, sounding genuinely polite, even gentlemanly, though his hands remained firmly on Cortana's shoulders. "But are you alright? You seemed kind of dazed walking through here."

Cortana brushed his hands away from her shoulder's roughly. "I'm Infinity's lead scientist. I'm allowed to let my mind wander if I wish."

"Fair enough," Locke conceded, taking a step away from her. He was out of his armor, his black bio suit clinging tight to his heavily muscular body. It was difficult for Cortana not to look, and immediately she noticed a difference. John was indeed muscular, but his was a more practical looking build. Stout, strong, and bulky. A body built for work rather than for looks. Locke, on the other hand, and a physique that could conventionally be considered far more physically appealing. The augmentations had bolstered his strength, but not at the cost of his form. He was imposing certainly, clear raw power in his arms, but was also very easy to look upon.

Cortana's eyes briefly wandered downward, and widened suddenly when she saw the very large bulge at his crotch. The suit certainly did not leave much to the imagination. Cortana's eyes immediately shot back upward again as she pretended not to have noticed anything, but Locke gave her a knowing look.

"Like what you see?" he asked quietly so that only she could hear.

"Excuse me?" Cortana asked, unnerved at how forward he was being.

"You know what I mean," Locke said. He gave her an obvious up and down look, and it was clear that he was mentally undressing her. "You're not bad to look at yourself."

Cortana folded her arms across her chest defensively, though it made her look more vulnerable than defiant. She tried to ignore how stiff her nipples were getting. "Apology accepted Spartan Locke," Cortana said as formally as she could. "You should watch where you're going next time."

Locke chuckled warmly. "Sure thing little lady."

Cortana decided to ignore the comment that time and instead brushed past Locke, continuing to cover her chest as she did. She adjusted her posture to look more natural, but she could still feel Locke's eyes staring at her as she walked away.

"Make sure you tell Chief no hard feelings," Locke yelled after her, but Cortana ignored him.

There were more tingles up Cortana's spine, and this time she knew exactly what it meant.

Calm down, Cortana thought. You were already horny when he showed up. It's nothing. Cortana thought back to what Palmer had said about Locke being attractive.

Well, she was right. Cortana could not deny that.

But he wasn't the best.

He wasn't her Spartan.

He wasn't John.

Cortana attempted to slip back into her fantasy. Tried to imagine John pounding into her as Locke watched on in dismay. Tried to imagine the look on Locke's face as he realized he could never hope to match John. That he was simply an inferior mate.

Much to Cortana's surprise, and much against her will, she instead got a brief image of Locke pounding in her, his dark skin contrasting sharply against her pale white figure, his form that of pure dominance.

The thought shocked her, as if some unknown force had placed it there against her will. She pushed it out of her thoughts, returning from her secret fantasy world into the real one, and focused again on making her way towards John.

Cortana could ignore what her mind was telling her, but she could not ignore her body. Underneath her plain lab pants that clung suggestively to her hips, Cortana's panties were soaking.

...

The Master Chief slammed the assault rifle down on the table, taking it apart for at least the third time since Cortana had walked in to the Spartan II armory. Being a Spartan aboard Infinity gave you special privileges. Being a Spartan II or III gave you even more. Private quarters, if you chose, and an armory, equipment, exorcise facility, and mess separate from the other, more numerous Spartan IVs.

"It's not the rifle John," Cortana said patiently.

"I know it's not," John said, though he continued to disassemble it. His armor was off and was currently laid out methodically on an equipment table, various tools, equipment, and diagnostic machines scattered around it. Cortana had taken it upon herself to make sure that all Blue Team's equipment was properly maintained and upgraded. It may have given her extra work to do, but Cortana found it soothing to work on something she was so intimately familiar with. It gave her an excuse to take a break from her normal daily work, and an excuse to spend time with John.

Cortana sighed. John was clearly agitated, and she really couldn't blame him. "Losing once is meaningless. HIGHCOM is going to want to see the match repeated I'm sure of it. We have plenty of time to figure out how to beat him."