Fiends

    ‘Easier for you.’

    ‘Do you know why you’re here?’

    ‘It seems pretty obvious.’

    ‘It’s not that obvious,’ Jim said, warning himself to speak with care. The room was bugged. A Guardian in the Security Center would be eavesdropping, and Roger himself was fond of listening to the Honors Room tapes. ‘This isn’t… just so I can have fun and games with you. The thing is… I’ve got to make you pregnant.’ Her eyes narrowed. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. She said nothing.

    ‘What that means,' Jim went on, ‘is that we’ll be seeing each other every day. At least during your fertile times. Every day until you conceive. Do you understand?’

    ‘Why do they want me pregnant?’ she asked.

    ‘They need more humans. For guards and staff and things. As it is, there aren’t enough of us.’

    She gazed into his eyes. He couldn’t tell whether or not she believed the lie.

    ‘If you don’t become pregnant, they’ll put you in with the Donors. It’s much better for you here. The Donors… all the Guardians can have them whenever they want.’

    ‘So, it’s either you or the whole gang, huh?’

    ‘That’s right.’

    ‘Okay.’

    ‘Okay?’

    She nodded.

    Jim began taking off his clothes, excited but uncomfortably aware of the scorn in her eyes.

    ‘You must be a terrible coward,’ she said.

    He felt heat spread over his skin.

    ‘You don’t seem evil. So you must be a coward. To serve such beasts.’

    ‘Roger treats us very well,’ he said.

    ‘If you were a man, you’d kill him and all his kind. Or die trying.’

    ‘I have a good life here.’

    ‘The life of a dog.’

    Naked, he crouched in front of Diane. His face was inches from her tuft of golden down. Aching with a hot confusion of lust and shame, he lowered his eyes to the short length of chain stretched taut between her feet. ‘I’m no coward,’ he said, and removed the steel cuffs.

    As the shackles fell to the carpet, she pumped a knee into his forehead. Not a powerful blow, but enough to knock him off balance. His rump hit the floor. He caught himself with both hands while Diane dropped backward, curling, jamming her thighs tight against her chest. Feet in the air, she slipped the hand shackles and trapped robe under her buttocks and up the backs of her legs. They cleared her feet. Her hands were suddenly in front of her, cuffs and chain hidden under the draping robe.

    As her heels thudded the floor, Jim rushed her. She spread her legs wide, raised her knees, and stretched her arms out straight overhead. The robe was a glossy curtain molded to her face and breasts.

    Jim dived, slamming down on her. She grunted. Clamped her legs around him. He reached for her arms. They were too quick for him. The covered chain swept past his eyes. Went tight around his throat. Squeezed.

    Choking, he found her wrists. They were crossed behind his head. He tugged at them. Parted them. Felt the chain loosen. Forced them down until the chain pressed into Diane’s throat.

    Her face had come uncovered. Her eyes bulged. Her lips peeled back. She twisted and bucked and squirmed.

    When he entered her, tears shimmered in her eyes.

6

    The next day, Jim let Morgan and Donner chain her to the bedframe before leaving.

    She didn’t say a word. She didn’t struggle. She lay motionless and glared at Jim as he took her.

    When he was done but still buried in her tight heat, he whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’ He hoped the microphone didn’t pick it up.

    For an instant, the look of hatred in her eyes changed to something else. Curiosity? Hope?

7

    ‘What are you sorry about, Jim?’

    ‘Sorry?’

    ‘You apologized. What did you apologize for?’

    ‘To who?’

    ‘You’ve gone soft on her,’ Roger said. ‘Can’t say I blame you. She’s quite a looker. Feisty, too. But she’s obviously messing you up. I’m afraid someone else’ll have to take over doing the Honors. We’ll work a trade with Phil. You can do his gal, and he’ll do yours. It’ll be better for everyone.’

    ‘Yes, sir.’

8

    Phil’s gal was named Betsy. She was a brunette. She was pretty. She was stacked. She was not just compliant, but enthusiastic. She said that she’d hated being an outlaw, living in the wilds, often hungry and always afraid. This, she said, was like paradise.

    Jim had her once a day.

    Each time, he closed his eyes and made believe she was Diane.

9

    He longed for her. He dreamed about her. But she was confined to the Specialty Suite, available only to Phil, so he would probably never have a chance to see her again. It ate at him. He began to hope she would fail to conceive. In that case, she would eventually be sent to the Donor Ward.

    A terrible fate for someone with her spirit.

    But at least Jim would be able to see her, go to her, touch her, have her.

    And she would be spared the final horror which awaited the Specials.

    Doc had judged her to be fertile, however, so Jim knew there was little chance of ever seeing her again.

    He was in the Mess Hall a week after being reassigned to Betsy, trying to eat lunch though he had no appetite, when the alarm suddenly blared. The PA boomed, ‘Guardian down, Honors Room One! Make it snappy, men!’

    Jim and six others ran from the Mess Hall. Sprinting across the courtyard, he took over the lead. He found Donner waiting in the corridor. The man, gray and shaky, pointed at the closed door of Honors Room One.

    Jim threw the door open.

    Instead of a bed, this room was equipped with a network of steel bars from which the Special could be suspended, stretched and spread in a variety of positions.

    Diane hung by her wrists from a high bar. There were no restraints on her feet. She was swinging and