The Vessel by Selena Moore
Chapter 1
New York City
5007 AD
It was the silence that woke her. The absolute, bone-chilling, deafening silence. No bombs going off around her. No cyborgs searching to exterminate the few of them that had remained alive. No cries or screams as the Machines executed children in front of their dying mothers. Nothing but absolute silence and for a single, horrifying moment, she thought she was dead too. But then she listened, beyond the silence, and heard them speak, far back in the distance.
She looked down at herself, finding her old clothes discarded and fresh, new ones covering her battered body. Looking around, she tried to orient herself in the dim moonlight filtering in through the narrow skylight high above. She was lying on a bed of some sort, the space around her cold and empty. She had learned to live with her meager belongings and be happy with the small things but this place looked so utterly cold.
She closed her eyes, trying to focus on what the voices were saying but flashes of the Machines inside her family’s hideout burned before her eyes, obscuring everything else out. Her husband and seven-month-old son shot to death right in front of her eyes. She had fought the Machines off as long as she could, her machete slicing through their weak spots and bringing them to their knees but she could only do so much. When she felt the impact of the blast that severed the life of the two last people she called family, she fell back, the debris covering her almost entirely. Then everything went black.
For three long years she and her husband, Lucas, had been hiding out, but the arrival of their son forced them to seek a better place to shelter the newborn. It was a decision she would live to regret for the rest of her life. A deep sigh escaped her as she tried to sit up and it was only then that she realized that the voices had grown louder and that a shadowy figure was making its way toward her.
“She's awake. Go get the boss,” she heard a man say.
“About time,” another chimed in, his accent heavy, but she couldn't place it. A foreigner, Eastern European maybe.
Moments later she locked eyes with a man taller than anyone she had ever seen and built like a tree. He was naked from the waist up, his head was shaved and his body seemed rock hard, bulging with muscle. His intricate tattoos were visible even from a distance and when he finally stopped and bent over her, his inky eyes revealed nothing but darkness, the expression on his rugged face blank. He was much older, late forties maybe, with a limp on his stride and a deep scar on the right side of his face that ran from his forehead to his jawline.
“Glad you found your way among the living,” he said and his voice was hoarse, deep, matching his intimidating appearance.
“Who are you? Where am I?”
“My name is Kratos. You are in the Hub, you’re safe here.” He looked at her closely, examining the cuts and bruises on her arms and legs.
“How did I get here?”
“The search patrol found you lying in a gutter, behind the Chaos Factory dumpsters. The Cyborgs left you for dead with all the blood you had on you.” He left the details of the unfortunate bodies found close to her, certain she would appreciate being spared the reference.
“So you saved my ass. Forgive me if I don’t thank you just yet. I just watched my husband and son get shot to bits.”
“And what do you intend to do about it? Go out there again and get yourself killed trying to avenge their deaths?”
“Got any other suggestions?”
“Stay here, with us, and help us continue our species. We already saved two more young women and one of them is already pregnant with twins. Together, we will help end this war sooner than later and take back what’s rightfully ours.”
“What are you suggesting, exactly?”
“This is a safe place for the surviving humans to care for one another and procreate life. You already know your fate once you get out of these walls. If you stay, you and your offspring will be well cared for and the men will be more efficient in battle. They need the warmth of a woman’s soft body and will be more than happy to pleasure you beyond your wildest dreams.”
“And what will I have to do in return for such pleasure if I may ask?”
Kratos inched closer but his proximity didn't faze her. She had slain Cyborgs twice his size. “You will be bred by the men on a daily basis. Breeding never stops, the men need a woman to fuck even if she is pregnant. Some of the men have particular fetishes you might want to indulge in if you’re open to experimenting and trying new things.”
“Such as?” Emmanuella had already seen such vulgarity and obscene killing, a little profanity didn’t even bother her.
“I know for a fact some of my men love drinking a woman’s milk while she’s lactating,” he said flatly, his gaze dropping to her breasts, which were leaking milk all over her grey shirt. She followed his prying eyes and he continued. “Breast milk is also harvested and stored in deep freeze for future use. The machines will do that for you." He paused, trying to guess if the look in her eyes was one of pure intrigue or absolute disgust. He could not so he moved on, unfazed. "Some men are into bondage and restriction, an outlet for indulging their dominant side. There is no designated room for breeding as you may imagine. The men and women living here are free to do whatever they want, wherever they want. There is just one rule you cannot break.”
“What’s that?”
“The men’s sperm will have to stay inside you until midnight. No washing is permitted during the day when breeding takes place.”
“And if it’s not?”
“There is never a time or day when the females are not bred. The men living here are young and hormone-ridden and the women living in this facility are only two. Three, if you decide to stay.”
“And how many men are staying here? Just out of curiosity.”
“I can only give you an estimate as men die in battle every day while others are rescued and brought in. It may vary between seven to twenty. We never had more than two dozen soldiers on the premises.”
“So you are asking me to become a cum-bucket for seven to twenty virile men.”
“I am asking you to become a vessel for their seed. One of the greatest importance. Will you do it?”
Emmanuella didn't have to think twice. She had already lost everything and anyone dear to her. Going back to the surface would only mean one thing. Death. “I will," she said flatly. "I have nothing to go back to anyway. At least here I am pretty sure I’ll get a decent fuck when I need one.”
“Well, take it from me, nothing beats fucking a hardened criminal.”
“There are criminals here?”
“What did you think they would be? We salvage anyone we are able to find. Half-dead, amputated, injured. They are still men with needs and soldiers willing to give up their lives for The Cause.” Survival of their species. This is what it all came down to at the end of the day. “Walk with me, I’ll show you around.”
Kratos extended his arm but she stood on her own, the pain in her joints slicing through her brain. “That’s just great. I can’t wait to get fucked into oblivion by the scum of the earth," she mumbled between her teeth.
“Come midnight you will always be at my quarters where you will bathe and sleep. God knows I haven’t had a woman as young as you here in forever. If you want to indulge in anal sex, the men already know they must have deposited their seed inside your vagina at least once. Any questions?”
“Yes. Will I have a room for myself?”
“You will. What is your name?”
“I’m Emmanuella.”
“Good. I am certain that once you sample what’s offered here you’ll be glad you stayed.”
“I sure hope so, Mr. Otherwise you’ll see the last of me very soon.”
“Follow me. I will show you to your quarters so you can have some privacy and get some rest. I will check on you later."