Bacchus

Another doctor rushed up and bent down to examine Dr. Pinschott, who was moaning and rocking with tears in his eyes.

"You! What's your name!" Beth targeted the new arrival.

"Dr. Vincent," the stunned man said.

"As Dr. Pinschott has been incapacitated by what seems to be a urinary tract infection, I'm placing you in charge. Get the head nurse down here and some orderlies with a gurney. Now! Let's move!"

Pietr and Angelina stepped back against the wall, as did her friends as the hospital staff leaped into action. More than a few of them wore smiles and gave them secret thumbs up when they saw their senior staffer taken away on the gurney. Dr. Ryan was in full combat medic mode, and Wendy was right there by her side handling triage. The hospital's head nurse was especially pleased by Wendy's solution to the pompous windbag's rude behavior.

While Bron was whisked away to get some actual medical attention, there was nothing left to do for Angelina and her friends. Pietr turned to Walter with a fierce look.

"I assume you got footage of Bron's state and the conditions he was in when we arrived?" he asked.

Walter queued up the video file and turned his tablet towards his friend and the ladies. He started it.

There was a collective gasp followed by tears and shouts of outrage as the tablet captured the scene of Bron's chained body trapped in a position that kept his face in the overly bright lights.

"After they run the story of Bron's classification as a clone, I want this footage shown. I think people need to know exactly how they treated someone who had Basic Human Rights. It's time to begin the push for citizenship!" Pietr growled.

Chapter 13

It had taken Bron three weeks of recovery in the hospital before they released him. Dr. Ryan had outfitted him with a special pair of opaque wrap-around goggles that blocked out all light. She wanted him to keep it on for four weeks, then see a specialist to see if there had been any progress with his recovery. She hoped that with time and total darkness, he might regain some of his eyesight. But it was a distant hope.

Dr. Ryan called in a Forensic Specialist from the Police Department as, during her initial assessment, she found some foreign matter jammed in the crease of his badly bruised groin. The man carefully extracted a small chunk of durable foam and hard rubber, which had ripped from the sole of a shoe. The foam was a bright green, which he thought would be easy to match.

Those first few days in the hospital were not ones Bron wanted to remember. There was so much pain, and the treatment just added more. They were worried by the amount of bruising he had. His density didn't allow them to see if he was bleeding internally from more serious injuries. They found a means to drain the wounds, which was excruciatingly painful, and he moaned quietly for hours after each treatment. He tried to remain quiet, to not bother the people in the hospital, but it was too much.

He had visitors every day from the end of the first week. They couldn't touch him, and he couldn't see them, but he loved hearing their voices. The first day Angelina came to visit him, he apologized to her for no longer being able to be her guardian and for being a burden to her and her father. He told her he understood if they wanted to send him to reclamation. She cried very hard after that, and Bron was confused and terribly sorry he made her so sad. He tried apologizing for that, but she just cried harder. Bailley finally took Angelina from the room, and she didn't return for three days. They were hellish days for Bron. He had hurt the woman he secretly loved, and that was worse than anything he had experienced yet. His appetite dropped, and his health slid downwards. Only when Angelina returned and demanded that he eat and get better did he respond again.

Near the end of the third week, Angelina arrived late and alone and closed the door. She said nothing, but he knew her scent and the sounds she made when she moved. They were as unique to her as her fingerprints, and he treasured that he now realized this. She sat near the bed and leaned in to whisper to him. He took a deep breath and smiled as he recognized the scent of a Danish with icing sugar and cinnamon, her weekly indulgence.

He knew she was nervous about something as he could feel her trembling against the bed. He wished he could help her with whatever it was, but he was useless to her now. That made him very sad.

"Bron, it's Angelina," she whispered.

"I know. It was good of you to visit, but isn't this beyond the regular hours? You won't get into trouble, will you?" he said, concerned.

"Ah, Bron..." she seemed to have trouble speaking. "You said something to me a week ago that really hurt me, but I don't believe you intended to."

"I would never hurt you!" Bron rasped in a breathy whisper.

"I know, it's just that... you don't seem to understand something very fundamental to our relationship, and now I am worried that maybe you can't. Maybe when they made your personality matrix, some things were left out. You know, like how the memories from the source minds were. Maybe there are some emotional linkages that you're missing or can't form. Shit! I'm messing this all up!" she cursed as her voice trembled.

He could sense the tears forming. He reached out carefully to the table next to the bed and found the tissues by touch. He passed one to the location of her voice.

"How did you know I needed a tissue?" she whispered, looking at his blackened goggles.

"I could hear it in the softening of your voice, and I could feel it in the trembling of your hand on the edge of the bed. Please don't cry because of me. I'm not worthy of your tears," he whispered in return.

"You see? That's what I'm talking about! You are so attuned to me, but you are missing the fact--the most important thing... that I'm in love with you! Romantically, totally and completely."

Bron was stunned. He'd overheard her once or twice mentioning that she loved him, but he assumed this was meant casually, as one would describe a pet or even a favorite article of clothing. To hear her say it so bluntly took his breath away. He actually forgot to breathe, and Angelina noticed.

"Bron! Take a breath!" she hissed.

He took a big gulp of air and then a second.

"Here is where I ask you if you can understand what it means to love. Do you love me, Bron?" she asked in a tiny voice.

He was in a state of panic! He'd been conditioned when he was created that it was forbidden for him to have any feelings towards humans other than loyalty and respect. It was doubly forbidden to express them. And here she was, asking him point-blank to confess his most secret desires. His body went rigid with fear as his conditioning kicked in and his monitors took notice. He was experiencing an anxiety attack, and his monitors weren't happy about it.

Angelina mistook his reaction as rejection, and she made to leave as tears burst into her eyes.

Feeling her distress pushed him past his fear. "I--love you... too," Bron barely whispered.

Angelina only caught the last two words and froze where she was. She needed to confirm what he said, but she heard the night duty nurse bustling down the hall, drawn by his physical upset. She quickly leaned in. "Say that again!"

Bron's stress levels spiked, and the machine sent alerts.

"I love you, Angelina. I'm sorry, I know it's forbidden and totally inappropriate for me to love you. Please forgive me!" he gasped as his chest tightened.

She quickly dipped down to kiss him on the lips. "I'll be back tomorrow, my love." She hurried across the room and jumped behind the curtain just before the nurse pushed into the room. As the nurse walked towards the monitor, Angelina slipped out the closing door and hurried away.

Her heart was on cloud nine. He loved her too!

Angelina came to the hospital the following day, and Bron could tell her energy levels were much higher, and her voice had a definite softness in it when she addressed him. Her friends picked up on the energy, and the group grew so boisterous they were kicked out of his room before visiting hours were officially up.

That had been two days ago, and now Bron was enjoying the sensation of the morning sun on his skin while he sat in his wheelchair on the back deck of the Rykov's home. He felt at a loss to describe the state of mind he was in. He could not perform his assigned duties. He consumed food and water and used energy in their home. He took up their valuable time taking care of him! His entire world was upside down!

On the lighter side, the bruising was almost gone, and he was told that he could begin his exercise routine at half intensity starting tomorrow.

Bron was getting used to the sounds of the neighborhood. He could distinguish the sounds of the different neighbors and their routines. It felt very comforting, but he actually felt lonely after the burst of attention he had at the hospital. Pietr had returned to work, and Angelina was back at her University. She had told him she'd arrange for someone to check in on him, so he waited.

From amongst the neighborhood's sounds, he picked up a car door closing and footsteps coming up the walkway and around the side of the house. He realized he was pretty much defenseless sitting there in the backyard, but there was not much he could do now.

Then he caught her scent.

"Hello, Bailley!" he smiled.

"Hi, Bron! How did you know it was me?" she smiled in return.

"You wear the loveliest perfume," he replied.

"I-I don't wear perfume. I'm allergic to scented products," she stuttered, realizing it was her own scent he was admiring.

"Oh... OH!" Bron caught on and blushed. "Well, you--your scent... is beautiful," he stumbled through his response.

"Thank you, Bron," she blushed as well.

"Are you the person Angelina sent to ensure I wasn't floating face down in the pool?" he joked to lighten the mood.

"Don't even joke about that! You know how much that would destroy Angelina!" she gently swatted his hand. "Oh! I'm sorry! I forgot we're not supposed to touch you."

"It's okay. It doesn't hurt anymore." He showed this by jabbing a finger into his thigh.

"Really?" she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "That's good because there has been something I've wanted to do for some weeks now."

Bron felt her guide his left arm away from the chair's left armrest, then heard a click as it swung away. A weight settled across his legs, and her scent filled his senses as she slowly leaned in towards him. He felt her gentle hands on his face, then her lips touched his. Tentative at first, just a delicate brush and some light pressure. She leaned in again, and this time she caressed his mouth with hers, and his breath caught as his heartbeat increased. Hers was speeding up as well. On the next kiss, Bron sucked her lip between his and gently ran the tip of his tongue across its soft, smooth surface. He felt her tremble, and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad as she pulled back slightly. He brushed her top lip with his bottom one and kept his tongue back. Bailley responded with an aggressive kiss, which had her sucking on his lips until they were both panting. She pulled back to look at him, and he gasped for breath.

Bron's groin was the one area where the bruising hadn't yet subsided, and his body seemed to understand it was off-limits. His erection backed off as the pain surfaced, which relieved the pain, so he was grateful.

Bailley glanced down and noticed a lack of activity. "Are you okay, Bron? Am I doing something wrong? I noticed you haven't responded like you did when I kissed your ears. Would you like me to kiss your ears?"

"I'm responding, but it seems the bruising hasn't left that particular area, so the... response went away."

"I'm so sorry, Bron! I didn't mean to hurt you!" Bailley gasped and made to leave his lap.

Bron just encircled her with his arms. "Please don't go. It's nice holding you."

She smiled. "It's nice to be held." She carefully leaned against his chest and rested her head just under his chin. He settled her more comfortably, and they sat like that for a while. When she began to doze off, she pushed herself up and looked at him. He was sound asleep. She smiled and wheeled him back into the house.

She worked on her homework in the living room as Bron slept in his chair.

When her tablet informed her it was time for her to head back to school, she woke Bron with a tender kiss.

"Hey, sleepyhead! I have to head out for a class, but Sasha will be dropping by to look in on you until Angelina gets home."

"Thank you for visiting me, Bailley! Will you visit tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled and touched his cheek. He leaned against her palm. "Not tomorrow, but the day after definitely. I have a full class schedule tomorrow," she said.

"Okay," he said with a smile.

She leaned in for another kiss, which took his breath away, then she pushed herself away and left for school.

An hour later, Sasha pushed through the front door and called out loudly. "BRON! WHERE IS YOUR BLUE BUTT!"

"In my chair," he said from the next room.

"Ah! There you are! Hey! Are you hungry or thirsty? I'm new to this babysitting business, so I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you. You mind if I make myself lunch?" Sasha rattled off rapid-fire.

"I don't eat until tonight, so I am fine until then. You don't need to do anything with me. I am sure Angelina would tell you to help yourself to their food," he replied.

He heard the woman making noises in the kitchen, and soon he heard her come up behind him.

"Why don't I just push you into the kitchen so we can talk while I eat my lunch?" she said, wheeling him into the next room.

"Are you attending the University too?" Bron asked.

Sasha paused, then laughed. "No, I didn't have the smarts for University. Why those brains continue to hang out with a low-life like me remains a mystery to this day," she smirked and shook her head.

"That's not a mystery. It's because they love you," Bron said simply.

"Shut the fuck up!" she snarled playfully.

Bron considered the woman sitting somewhere in front of him. She, out of all of Angelina's friends, was the biggest enigma to him. Obviously, there was much love between the friends, but Sasha seemed too willing to put herself and the others in danger, as if to scare them off. She was always testing their resolve, trying to make them say enough, forcing them to abandon her. But they loved her and continued to take her abuse and show nothing but acceptance to her. He picked up that she needed her friends intensely, so he didn't know what drove her to this self-destructive behavior. He'd have to ask Angelina about it.

"How long do you have to stay in that chair?" Sasha asked.

"I may get up and move around until I feel sore or tired," he replied.

"Can you walk downstairs?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"I have a new movie I want to watch. I know you can't see it, but could you sit with me?" Sasha said with a strange tone in her voice.

"Sure," he said, wondering what was up. He followed her down into the basement where she activated the projection system. She parked Bron on the couch and snuggled up against him as she started the movie.

There was no lead-in, no music or titles--just the sound of a young woman's painful cries and the wet slap of skin on skin. There was also the occasional louder slap of skin being struck hard. The woman was sobbing, and Bron finally recognized the voice as belonging to Sasha. He didn't recognize the man's voice, but it was mostly growling and cursing, muffled by something... a mask, maybe?

He was getting angry, and his breathing was speeding up. The recording was triggering his need to protect. Someone had hurt Sasha and recorded it. It sounded like rape. He'd heard enough of that on Bacchus to recognize it.

"Who..." he growled. The sounds of her cries went on in the background and the painful slap of wet skin.

"It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. This was just the first time... the first recording on my eighteenth birthday. Deflowering day! This went on for years. Until I ran away from home," she said like it was nothing.

"It was a family member?" he said in shock.

"It's not important. I heard you asking Angelina why I need to be punished during sex. This is why. Four years of this on almost a daily basis taught me how love... sex should feel."

"I'm- I'm sorry."

"Fuck you! Spare me the sympathy. I don't want it. I don't need it. This is who I am now. I've accepted it, and I get a fuck-load of enjoyment out of my life without being all needy and emotional."

"Okay," he said.

"What the fuck do you mean, okay?" she growled in a trembling voice.

Bron was silent. He didn't know what Sasha wanted from him. He turned his head towards a new sound. He tried his best to ignore the awful noises coming from the movie projection system. Then he picked up her scent. Tears, and she was masturbating while she was watching her younger self being raped!

He felt the remote for the projection system resting against his leg, so he grabbed it and hit the power switch to turn off the movie. Sasha screamed and tried to get the remote from his hand, but his grip was too strong, and her hands were too slick.

Sasha became a wild woman, screeching at him, scratching at his face, and kicking. He deflected her arms, and when his hand touched her throat, he got a grip and spun her around on the couch, pressing her face down against the cushions. There wasn't much room on this piece of furniture as she was wedged in between the chair's arm and his body. He picked up her scent strongly and realized her ass was pointing up at his face.

"Well, are you just going to sit there, or are you gonna FUCK ME!" she screamed.

He wasn't about to rape her. He couldn't. It wasn't in his nature. Additionally, his conditioning prevented him from hurting her. But she didn't know that, and he could give her pleasure hard and fast. Maybe that would be the same?

While she thrashed and struck him, he slid his hands firmly down her sides until he reached her hips. He tore her shorts and panties off between his powerful hands in one pull. He heard her gasp and squirm. She almost slipped away from him, so he grabbed her thighs in his hands, lifted her effortlessly to his mouth, and ran his tongue roughly across her wet pussy. She screamed at the intense sensations shooting through her, and her legs shook in his grip. He didn't give her time to recover as his tongue stroked her again and again, each time dipping further into her wet depths.

She was hanging face down, and Bron didn't want her to pass out from the pressure of the blood running to her head. He put his left arm around her thighs, pinning her soaked pussy to his mouth. This freed up his right arm to reach down and tug her shirt open to expose her tits. He then lifted her torso up until she was horizontal. She renewed her thrashing and kicking, so he plunged his tongue deep into her hot tunnel.

Sasha squealed and trembled, impaled on his rough tongue. He continued to slide the hard flexing muscle deeper and deeper into her until he felt the tip touch the spongy opening on her womb. He pulled his head back a few inches, then thrust forward, and she came hard.

"FUUUUUCK! FUUUUUUUCK! FUCK MEEEEE!!!!" Sasha screamed.

Bron set up a steady pace of hard thrusting and let his tongue slip into her womb just a little. She choked out another squeal and went into convulsions as her body was overloaded. He felt her hands move to her nipples and roughly tug at them.

After a few dozen thrusts, Bron pulled his tongue from her depths, and she moaned deeply at the sudden sensation of being so empty after the intrusion of his thick tongue.