John Ringo - There Will Be Dragons

Herzer was not a virgin, at least with homunculi. There was some debate about whether that counted but with the onset of the worst of his symptoms, making friends, especially girlfriends, had been tough. So homunculi were the only route open to his developing teenage libido short of using his hand. And he always cast himself in the role of the hero, the pure paladin on the white charger. But…

He knew the allure. The desire not just to be in a woman, be one with one, but to control her and dominate. To take instead of negotiate or, in the case of normal homunculi, be given freely. It was a secret he normally kept deep inside and one that he didn’t discuss. Ever. There was no one to talk to about it. No one who would… understand. He’d heard rumors about homunculi being abused, some of them even having to be recycled and replaced. Now he understood why.

Hero? Or rapist? Sometimes… the line seemed so strange. The joy of battle was so close to how he felt when he fantasized… bad things. Even in his own mind he had a hard time saying “rape.” To take the life of an orc, to slaughter his enemies and see them running before his charger, to throw a frightened girl to the ground and take what had been withheld. To get back at all the girls who sniggered at him when the convulsions would hit. All the girls who rejected him when he needed them most. To take and take again. To punish.

Was he a paladin or a villain? He just couldn’t decide.

Especially now looking at this vulnerable, frightened… toy. She wasn’t a real woman, a real girl. She was just an artificial construct. Somehow that both relieved him and made the… thing less illicit. Almost less interesting. But not much.

“Please,” the homunculus whispered, tears running down her cheek. “Please…”

He felt the heat rising in his body no matter how he tried to check it. This was just…

“There’s nothing wrong,” Dionys said. “Men have… needs. This is one way to let them out. Women have… very similar needs you’ll eventually find. But even that is so sterile. So many rules, so many precautions. This is the real.” He tapped Herzer on the back. Lightly. “Go ahead. Take her. Enjoy.”

Herzer took an involuntary step forward and reached out one hand to the girl’s blouse. It was white silk with old-fashioned buttons to match the short skirt of the same material. He imagined himself ripping the blouse open, running his hand up her thighs… taking her.

“Please don’t,” the girl whimpered. “Please…?”

He worked his jaw for just a moment and shook his head.

“No, Dionys,” he said, harshly. “This isn’t right.”

“How can it not be?” The man sounded more surprised than anything else, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “She’s only a homunculus.”

“And her fear isn’t real,” Herzer agreed, although it was an intellectual agreement only. “But… it’s still not right. I’m not… this isn’t right.” He looked at the two holding her arms but they just grinned. “It’s not right.”

“So you’ve said,” Dionys replied, disapprovingly. “Very well, if you don’t want to stay and enjoy yourself, you can go. Go to your meek little playthings and all the so-called friends who betrayed you.”

Herzer started to open his mouth to reply but at the look on McCanoc’s face he shook his head instead. “Home, genie.”

Sheida glanced around at the Council as she entered the vast chamber, but if there was mischief on anyone’s mind, it wasn’t showing. Celine had apparently decided to copy Ishtar’s hairstyle, and her hair, suitably lengthened, was gathered in a giant confection shot through with crystal wasps made of gold and ebony.

Paul and the rest of “his” faction had gathered at one end of the table, so as Sheida, who had carefully arrived last, settled into her seat he stood up to call the Council to order.

“The first thing is to change the agenda,” Paul said. “Mother, refer to the first item on Agenda B, please.” He looked towards the entrance and smiled. “And here is our seventh voter.”

Sheida glanced over her shoulder quickly, thinking as she did so that it might be a trick but then blanched.

“You’ve called in the DEMON?” she shouted. At the shout her lizard unwound from her neck and took off upwards towards the top of the chamber. It found a perch where it could look down and watch the rest of the proceedings through baleful eyes.

“Indeed he did,” the apparition growled. “And I vote aye .” The Demon’s true form was impossible to know since he went everywhere in a suit of black armor. The helmet of the armor had been worked into a bestial face, all staring eyes and tusks, and the gloves were tipped with long talons. He was one of the two normally absent holders of the Keys, older than any of the rest of the Council. He had extended his life by means that were highly illegal, using the power of his position to twist the laws to his own purpose. His purpose had always been chaos, so his appearance at this meeting made terrible sense.

There was a series of rapid “ayes” from Paul’s faction and he smiled broadly.

“The personal protection fields are now turned off,” he said with a moue. “Item two, aye.” After the same series of seven agreements he shrugged. “And the Council is now officially in a dispute situation with rump rules applying.” He looked at Sheida sadly. “I do this for all mankind. You cannot stand in the way of the survival of the human race. Celine?”

“Welcome to the new order,” Celine said, rising to her feet. “My friends wish to make your acquaintance,” she continued as her hair seemed to explode outward.

Sheida cursed as the cloud of insects came flying across the room. Poisons and poisonous life-forms were not allowed in the Council chamber, but there were two types of wasps in the group, black and yellow.

“Binary toxins!” she shouted, springing to her feet and overturning her chair in her haste. As she did the Demon sprang through the air.

Cantor was already on his feet and didn’t even bother to Change as one arm swept into Tetzacola Duenas. The impact snapped the man’s neck and he was flung through the air in the direction of Sheida just as the Demon landed on the werebear’s back.

Ungphakorn wasn’t inactive either. He had grasped the top of the table and uncoiled from his oversized seat, his long serpentine body flipping down the table and enwrapping Said. In a flash the council member was dragged from his chair and wrapped in coil after coil of feathery body. He let out one cry, more of a squeaking scream, then his tongue and eyes protruded as the serpent applied full power in a constrictive hug of death. The quetzacoatal ripped the Key from his neck and half flew, half slithered across the chamber towards the entrance, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth snapping at the wasps closing in on him.

Sheida’s flying lizard stooped from its perch, its wings folded onto its back, and snapped one of the wasps out of the air, crunching down on it and spitting it out at the taste. It hissed as it flew past Celine, grabbing at more of the insects as it darted hither and yon.

Sheida raised her arm and a bracelet extended into a broad shield. She flipped it through the air and swatted aside two of the wasps as she bent to the dead council member and ripped the Key from Tetzacola’s neck.

“Out!” she shouted, backing towards the entrance.

Cantor was still wrestling with the Demon as two of the wasps landed on him and began probing for an open spot in his fur. She looked towards him but he just shook his head at her.

“Get out!” he yelled, ripping his Key off and throwing it towards her. He pulled his hands loose from the Demon’s grip and took two of the beast’s tusks, turning its head up and back. “Go!” he cried as the first sting hit.