The Blood Empress
Chapter 4: Pleasure and Punishment

Copyright© 2019 by Wagyu San

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 4: Pleasure and Punishment - Paranoid, shut-in, professional nerd and hacker - Kieran Trent, is lying a pool of blood, filled with personal regrets and gaping bullet holes left by the Matriarch's cyber-assassins. Instead of dying, he wakes up with superhuman strength, reflexes; and a penis twice as big to boot. Now he needs to figure out why he's banging a couple of hot nurses, able to fight off more killer-assassins and most importantly, why his sperm can control women.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Coercion   Mind Control   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Romantic   Slavery   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Robot   Sister   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Humiliation   Rough   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Anal Sex   First   Oral Sex   Body Modification   Geeks   Revenge  

The thick neosteel doors slid open almost silently, belying the tons of protective metal that it was forged from. The quiet swish was menacing and eerie; she could hear her footsteps irregularly echo as she limped into the antechamber.

Midori had failed; it was such a simple job, but somehow that lowlife had defeated her so expeditiously and in such a casual and clumsy fashion. Her face was burning and she looked spitefully at her costly railgun upgrade. The hunk of complex weaponry that she’d sacrificed her last remaining limb for was twisted and crushed, just like her dreams of becoming a Bloodflower.

She’d barely had time to fix her severed bionic leg when the Matriarch had summoned her; and no one kept the Matriarch waiting, so she had rushed to the antechamber limping. She hated that, showing weakness. She knew what they called her behind her back, Massacre Midori, the deadliest and fastest rising Assassin ever — she’d made waves by being promoted from a common street thug to a Blossom in less than a year.

And to have been offered her Blood Rite promotion by the NorthAm Matriarch in person was an honour given only to a few. Midori clenched her teeth at the thought; the mission was simple, it was almost rigged in her favor. It was obvious the Matriarch had wanted her as an addition to the other four elites in her inner circle.

It was now all over; Blood Rites were sacred, failures were never tolerated. She was doomed to be a ghetto-skage forever; she brushed angry tears from her face; one of the few biological components she had left.

Since she became a teen, the boys and men never hid their longing and lustful gazes; Midori knew she was beautiful; and beautiful meant life in a brothel for the lowlife ghetto-born like her. At twelve, she’d found her mother, her body bruised and broken, dumped in the trash heap, undignified even in death.

Her mother had been beaten to death by a client with ‘special’ tastes; the brothel owners just charged the client an extra fee and then discarded her, like a box of leftovers. Her mother had been her all; Midori knew she debased herself to keep them alive.

Realising her body was a curse, Midori began selling parts of her body to the flesh merchants, replacing them with stronger, faster bionic upgrades.

She couriered, scammed, threatened and fought for the streetgangs, anything but prostitute herself and before long she’d had nothing to sell anyway. Her torso, ovaries and womb had gone to a middle-aged trophy wife who wanted to keep her husband interested at all costs. Every cent she saved, she’d spend on her upgrades.

By the time she was seventeen, most of the original her that remained was from the neck up — she’d also found the John who murdered her mother; she’d thrown the body on a trash heap after she was done with him. And to finally exercise her vengeance, she watched the brothel burn to the ground, with the owner and his cronies still inside.

They started to call her Massacre Midori.

Fortunately, the brothel was not sanctioned by the Matriarchs, who were gratified that this example was made. They also spotted talent and immediately recruited her. Midori was relentless, untiring and vicious. Mission after mission only proved the Matriarch right and she was offered her Blood Rite promotion in less than two years.

The Blood Rite was simple — Kill Kieran Trent.

Kieran was a two-bit hacker that was supposed to be dead. After the dispatchers had filled his body with flechettes, they’d left it for the Cleaners to recycle the remains. Strangely, the body went missing, and two months later, an informer from a mob hospital had identified him there as a patient — very much alive.

The mission was simple, a formality, Midori knew she was the Matriarch’s favorite; otherwise how would she have risen so fast? But the mission was an outright failure. Her backup arrived too late and Kieran escaped. They’d searched for the nurses that eloped with him, but there were no leads as well.

Her musings were interrupted by Justine; who stood before her with a big smug smile plastered on her face.

‘Well ... well ... if it isn’t Mediocre Midori.’ Justine flashed a big grin at her.

Dammit! Midori thought, as if her day couldn’t get any worse. Justine was the biggest thorn in her side, the only viable competition she had for the position of Bloodflower. Now that she had failed, Justine would probably get the position instead.

Justine was ... effective, Midori had to grudgingly admit. Justine’s methods were subtle and cunning. Without power armor and bionics, Justine had to rely on sly deception and seductive wiles. Even right now she was wearing a skintight klevandex catsuit; her nipples were hard and clearly defined under the thin fabric; in fact the outline of her pussy was shamelessly displayed deliberately in what must have been the camel toe of the century.

Her blazing bright shock of red hair framed her cheerful face; it was complete with adorable freckles. Midori knew that that was just a mask, Justine was a consummate actress; her persona transformed to whatever the situation required.

That was not to say that Justine wasn’t lethal or combat trained; it was just that she preferred the alternative routes — poisons, traps, double-crossings and back-stabbings.

Midori really hated her. She gritted her teeth and spewed, ‘Fuck off. Out of my way.’

Examining her from top to bottom, Justine pouted, ‘So touchy! Why I hate to see you in such a ... pitiful state, my dear.’

She signed dramatically, ‘But orders are orders. Hand me your sword before you enter.’

Midori burned at the thought of letting Justine touch her precious custom katana, but she had no choice — she released it from the mag-sheath and handed it over to Justine. Who ... promptly dropped it deliberately with a loud clatter.

‘Oopsie!’ Justine exclaimed, ‘You know, I absolutely abhor these ... barbaric things.’

Midori bit back a retort. Now was not the time.

‘Now you may enter.’ Justine continued and engaged the door.

Midori stormed into the main chamber. She clenched her left fist and resisted turning around when she heard the metallic squeal of her beloved sword being dragged roughly across the floor. She swore to herself that she would make Justine pay somehow.

There was of course a much more important thing to be concerned with in the main chamber.

Midori stopped at the foot of the dais and knelt down with her face bowed.

A sweet, lilting voice wafted through the cold, stifling air.

‘Ah ... my sweet Midori-chan.’ the voice of the Matriarch seemed ethereal and serene. ‘Come closer my dear.’

Midori looked up.

The NorthAm Matriarch was christened Deliverance, when she was decanted from the Blood Vat over seventy years old, but she had remained ageless, her body perpetually gene-locked in her thirties. The Matriarch had pale, ashen skin, and a thin elfin face with sharp, angular features. You could call her beautiful; and she was, but it was beauty akin to a bred-back Megalodon — sleek, intelligent, predatory, dangerous and the top of the food chain. Her hair was white and fine; and it poured down her back all the way to her knees. Atop her head sat a silvery tiara, her symbol of Matriarchy and her power over all in NorthAm.

Her long iridescent, gossamer robes flowed and billowed all around her opulent, golden throne where she was seated. Her dress was covered in glittering bloodstones and tiny rhodium charms, each one unique and handcrafted by semi-blind children from the Afro Nations, a gift from her Blood Sibling, Aminatu. Her hands with tipped with elaborate platinum claws which weren’t purely cosmetic; they contained complex circuitry that she used to access the netscape and control the millions of souls in her slice of the global empire.

Behind the Matriarch stood her personal guard, a silent, secretive cadre of vat slaves, their loyalty had been literally bred into their genes. Midori had never ever seen the five guards speak even once, but she could see them all staring at her intently; judging her.

Midori approached the throne, and the Matriarch patted her lap. Midori knelt at her feet and placed her face on the Matriarch’s lap.

‘My poor child,’ the Matriarch whispered into her ear, her voice sounding like cold ashes. She cupped Midori’s face in her palms; the tapered platinum nails dug painfully into Midori’s cheeks; and planted a kiss on her lips. Surprising even Midori, the Matriarch did not stop there and forced her wet tongue into Midori’s mouth.

When they broke off the wet sloppy kissing, Midori’s face was a mask of confusion. The Matriarch never showed physical affection to her in all the times she’d been in her presence.

The Matriarch beamed at Midori and tugged her robes aside, revealing a pair of sculpted, long pale limbs — the Matriarch spread her legs obscenely, hiking her knees on the armrests of her throne. She was not wearing anything underneath.

Midori stared at the exposed pussy in shock.

It was perfectly formed and completely hairless. It looked virginal and pristine, all the inner labia were tucked prettily in the outer lips. The Matriarch reached down and spread her vulva with two fingers, exposing the pink glistening interior of her pussy and nodded expectantly at Midori.

Conflicting thoughts ran through Midori’s mind. ‘Am I whore now? My mother was a whore, this was the last thing I wanted to be. Fuck! I don’t even have a pussy anymore!’

Her face burned from the act she knew she had to perform in front of the silent audience. But a small spark of hope leapt into Midori’s mind, ‘Maybe ... maybe ... this humiliation was the punishment, the Matriarch would then give her another chance.’

Resigned, Midori dutifully leaned forward, stuck out her tongue and licked the Matriarch’s slit. The Matriarch made encouraging sounds and Midori pushed her tongue under the clitoral hood and started stimulating it. She worked her mouth up and down submissively, occasionally pushing her tongue in and penetrating the Matriarch’s cunt.

The Matriarch signed appreciatively and scrunched further down, hiking her hips even higher. She reached down with both her hands and spread her ass cheeks, exposing her perfect pink puckered asshole. She stared expectantly at Midori.

Midori knew what she had to do; she leaned in further and began rimming the Matriarch’s asshole — she had to show utter submission. Midori penetrated the asshole with her tongue, her rough tongue pumping in and out of the tight sphincter muscle; she had now tasted the all the juices from all the orifices the Matriarch had to offer.

It wasn’t long before the Matriarch felt an orgasm approaching; so she stood up, grabbed Midori by her hair and forced her face between her thighs. The Matriarch humped Midori’s face roughly and began her ascent into a climax. Midori’s face and tongue were beginning to get swollen and abraded from the abuse. Her eyes teared and streaked down her face; she was burning from the rough treatment and the humiliation.

It was a huge orgasm.

The Matriarch screeched into the antechamber which echoed her screams, everyone would have known she just came. Not done, the Matriarch pressed her hips into Midori’s face and squirted all over Midori’s face. She then let go of Midori who collapsed and remained prostrate before her. The Matriarch lifted a foot and stepped on Midori’s head.

 
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