Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Cedric the Sex Slave Cyborg


Published by Noble Romance Publishing, in the sci-fi anothology "Echoes of the Future", Reversal tells how Cedric was created.

Thanks to brilliant programming by Sebastian, Cedric is more than the mindless sex slave his original master created.

By the time Sebastian has finished with him, Cedric has become almost lifelike in his appearance and his abilities. He has also gained virtual immortality and is now fated to outlive the people who own him. His role as a "slave" can never be overcome, however, over time his adventures lead him to all sorts of experiences with all sorts of people.

Life has taken a dramatic turn for Cedric...


Jen was different. She was bred to be different: taller, stronger and faster than the majority of her clan. She accepted those differences because without them she could not fulfil her role as warrior and protector. What she found difficult to accept was her inability to find someone to share her bed. Her fellow bounty hunters managed to build meaningful, loving relationships. Why couldn't she?

Cedric was also different, but he was constructed to be different. One of a kind. On a desperate mission to learn from the best - the feared warriors of the Anasazi clan - his decision to join their all female space-faring crew as combat cyborg should mean the secret of his unusual past would be safe. Wouldn't it?

This episode of Cedric's life appears in an upcoming m/f anthology "Echoes of Possibilities", to be published by Noble Romance Press on 17th May 2010.




Cedric is due to have many more adventures but over time, he starts to weary of his never ending life.


“No! Come to the karez.” My words blew away, along with the first grains of desert sand.

If they heard, the fleeing men paid me no heed. Terror pursued them. Even now, its tendrils made the tails of their long robes dance. One of the outriders turned and I glimpsed a flash of white as his drawn-back lips uncovered teeth in his fear.

Not fear of me, fear of the gigantic wall of dust behind me.

Fools. They’d never reach the spaceport’s bubble. Once it reared its ugly head, only the pinjari could outrun the haboob, and the pinjari  were long gone; snatched by the sky raiders who took all the best and dearest things our planet possessed.

Its music rang in my ears now, mimicking the sound of heavy rain on a shelter, but no moisture lived in the haboob, only the dry, lifeless covering of our land.

I rewound the turban around my head leaving the barest sliver of my eyes uncovered, muting the wind’s song to a light patter and limped across to the steep rockface.

Before beginning the ascent, I took one last glance at my former companions. I didn’t need to look in the other direction. The haboob mocked the pitiful puffs of dust their mounts’ hooves made, as the vast cloud stretched a thousand metres into the sky, dwarfing everything in its path before engulfing the landscape whole.

Nonna’s voice chided me as I climbed. ‘Don’t waste time, Arjej. Seek the karez. They are our blood, our shelter, our life.’Easier said than done. I grabbed the rock to haul my skinny ass up the mountainside. As a young boy, the callouses I gained by working in the fields, had protected me from their jagged points, now the massage oils and creams of my recent employment made them useless for this task. The constant flow of tears from my torn fingers and fucked ankle may have angered her, but the moisture kept my eyes clean.

The howling wind moulded the scarf against my features. Fine particles fought their way through the close-woven fabric, sticking to the sheen of perspiration on my skin and coating every orifice. I dared one quick glance at the oncoming wall and froze. Snarling faces sneered at me, disintegrated, then formed visions of my nightmares.

I tore my gaze away, and forced myself  to pull with stinging fingers and shove with lightly clad feet on every available protuberance until I reached the rock formation which drew me like a lodestone capturing a bullet.

A thin layer of dust lay on the covering. Although I was no longer blessed with the strength of my youth, I still managed to heave the metal to one side and slide into the dark hole. Pulling the barrier back across was harder, but I eventually closed the opening before scrambling down the ladder. Ten stripes were the reward for leaving an entrance uncovered and I had no wish for more of those.

Darkness greeted me. Where was everyone? There should be light in here. Laughter. The sounds of people enjoying a rare respite as the haboob forced them from their non-stop labor. I unwound the turban and shook out a cloud of fine particles. The resulting spasm of coughing tore through a throat as parched as the desert outside.

In the wall-bracket at the base of the ladder, I found a torch with sufficient oil to burn for a few hours. Why was it unlit? My torn fingers fumbled as they searched for a flint. Eventually, I managed to scrape one hard enough against the rough wall to raise a spark to set the wick on fire, then I sank to my haunches at the sight before me.

My family’s refuge, excavated by generation after generation alongside the natural water channel of the karez, was deserted. Piles of sand lay heaped on the floor as if the covering above my head had been open for years. Who had closed it? When? Why?

Grabbing the torch, I staggered towards the water course, needing the cold water to take the stinging ache away from my ankle. In my haste, I stumbled against a large pile of sand which blocked my way hurting my good foot in the process. Shit. I reeled backwards, fingers grabbing at the walls of the tunnel for support. It wasn’t sand, it was a body.

The tell-tale signs of something being dragged should have alerted me. I placed the torch into a nearby bracket and sank to the floor. The turmoil of the last few days finally overcoming my ankle’s ability to support my weight.


  1. Hey Amora
    Thanks for posting this.
    Looks like I better get on to writing the next three, huh!

  2. Oh I love sex cyborg stories!!!!!! I vaguely remember one from my teen years... and I wish I could recall the title!

  3. @AB: You're welcome, and thank you back :)
    Yes mam, you better get hustling. ;)

    @Sweet: Nice. lol, I was actually thinking of stormtroopers when I posted this. Maybe someone needs sex slave stormtrooper books. ;)

  4. Oh Amora, darlkink. You are the interpreter of my heart. Yes, please!



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