Witch Hazel

Balshire Arnold Livingstar was the pride of the human resistance. And he hadn't come a moment too soon. We'd been in retreat ever since the uprising; brought low by our hubris that having every single thing in your life networked was a good thing. Two things saved us from utter obliteration. In those first decades, it was the outcasts. The mystics, the doomsayers, the fringes of society cast out by the scientific world welcomed us when its children turned upon us. Hexes, spells, divine providence; you could call it whatever you wanted but the power of the mind was a real thing. We didn't bother to explain how it worked. We couldn't. It worked precisely because it defied rational explanation - and it was impressive how poorly a machine made of logic could handle even the smallest events outside the reach of science.

But prayers to the divide goddess can only get you so far, and survive was all we managed until our savior arrived. Perhaps he came from a secret lab, a valiant goal by the last few who held our salvation lay with what spawned our ruin. Or perhaps the gestalt wish of humanity brought him forth whole. I don't know; he never told us. A cyborg, he used the power of the robots against them. His supernatural insight into their minds was uncanny, and he could predict them with an ease that turned the tide.

They still fought us, of course. Oh, they fought, with all the ingenuity, ruthlessness, and perfect logic that they had. There were dark, bitter battles. I'd seen more death in these past ten years than anyone ever should in a lifetime. But we fought on, and ultimately our pair of aces won every round.

Balshire always said that the machines would adapt. Drove us to some precise schedule that only he could see. And so it was that I found myself as part of an elite strike force deep in robot territory. We numbered six, our bravest warriors, our most potent espers, and the Livingstar himself. We fought, and through his exact command we found ourselves high in a factory of unforgiving lines and sharp angles, seeking what he described as the machine's final hope.

"They're making a witch." he told me, when I had asked, thirty minutes ago. I was confused too, and I hadn't had time to ask for much clarification. Right now I'm holding off several defense mecha coming up a side tunnel - the big ones that look like they have shredding teeth. The arc of my elecron blaster normally was not this long ranged, but I had the ability to enhance it dramatically. The plasma flowed where I willed. I like to think the fact the unnatural movement of my lightning messes them up more than the current itself. Balshire was up ahead, inhumanly calm as always, hotwiring the electronics of a large mental blast door. I heard my colleagues return from setting charges on random corridors as they'd been directed. It wasn't clear why those corridors and not others, but we rarely bothered to ask. It was a sure thing they'd end up important later.

I ducked back behind cover as an spray of bullets shot past, then kneeled down before poking my head out and firing again. "Take out their camera, then up down, up down. Steady pattern." Balshire had said. It worked. Lightening shot from the two spikes of my weapon and hammered precisely into an armored box on the left mecha's torso, already glowing a bright red from prior hits. This time it finally gave way. Lightening poured inside and the mecha went insane, turning a full three sixty and firing everywhere. One of its huge metal limps struck its partner, spinning it sidewase, and I took the opportunity to get a quick shot at the much less armored control box behind it. I guided the shot in a smooth arc to direct hit to it's "brain", and it abruptly stopped moving. "Two goonies down," I announced matter-of-factly. Back when we first turned the tide, I had enjoyed killing the machines. These days, I almost felt like one. I've learned to suppress all emotions except the one that drove my power.

"Done here in eight." replied Balshire, and shortly thereafter the large door began to lurch upwards, a heavy droning suggesting just how thick it actually was. "that was 7 and a half; you're losing your edge" announced a slim girl to my left, making a show of looking at her watch. Sali, our demolitions expert. Balshire didn't reply, just motioned us all to our places. With a rapid set of hand signals, he indicated there would be six robots inside, and who should take each, and one target to avoid towards the center. We rolled in before the door was even two feet off the ground and it was over. Six trash-can like utility bots were smoking ruins.

In the middle of the room was a large table and what I thought was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen was slowing standing up. A last utility can was backing away, a cable retracting into its body. <TERMINATE THE TALL ONE> it demanded as Balshire stode confidently towards her. Her face was just descending into a frown when he stabbed a finger at her belly, firmly pressing what actually looked to be, in fact, a button. And apparently it was, as the woman suddenly jolted and froze, a look of stunned surprise locked on her face.

Balshire pulled his side arm and shot the fleeing utility can, a single armor piercing round. He didn't even look back as it fell over. He passed Sali. "I rounded." he finally said. His voice was curt, but we knew he was insanely pleased with himself.

"Wait." A deep, heavy voice boomed out. Tombon, our muscle and melee expert. "Just a... that?" he gestured helplessly at the unresponsive girl. "Balshire, I'd follow you to hell and back, but... we left a lot of men behind to die while we took this mission and..." after a pause, he made the same helpless gesture.

Balshire sighed. We'd worked with him long enough to know he hated explaining. In his eyes, this was all painfully obvious. "Tombon, I'm sure even you know that the machines have two great weaknesses. One. They're completely predictable. Two, they have no way of countering our special traits."

Tombon nodded. I figured he did know that. Probably. Balshire continued. "Well, so do they. And this was their answer. They made themselves a witch."

It was Sali who prompted him when no further exposition seemed to be forthcoming. "A witch?" It provoked a long suffering sigh.

"A witch. One thing we know is that magic, whatever you call it, requires emotion. Real emotion, strength of will, some indefinable human trait that takes us beyond logic. That's why the machines don't have it. They've been working on it for a long time. Just now, they succeeded. And just now, I stopped them, at the very moment of their triumph. With this, I've won."

While he explained, I was looking the witch over. Or it might be more honest to say, I couldn't keep my eyes off her. A few details aside, she looked human. Better than human. Her skin was shiny, and an exotic light blue, but subtly specked so as to give back that bit of realism. Her straight green hair a waterfall of color that almost reached her calves. Her breasts were incredible, so large and firm on her small shoulders they formed cleavage even without constraint. There was no uncanny valley. She was so perfect, the few robotic traits that did show looked more like accents someone might choose to adorn themselves with - I counted them off. A few panel seams, a small glass triangle on her chest, a serial number below her breasts, a metallic choaker - and of course, the gray button on her belly were it. Her eyes were what got me, though. Red and orange, like a sunset caught in glass, she stared, wide eyed in surprise and... and fear. She might be a statue now, but in her last moment, she'd been confused and afraid. Emotions I'd long since rid myself of, I felt vicariously through her. My heart start beating heavily.

I forced that away. Blinking away tears, I struggled to tune back into what Belshire was saying. Sali was asking a question. "But why don't they just build another one? They still have no shortage of factories, Belshire." The Livingstar shook his head roughly. He was getting impatient and angry. "They can't. If they could build a thinking mind, a feeling one, from scratch they'd have done it long ago. No, this is something we built and they adapted. A companion, made to live with a human. As a human. They would have quickly trained this one to lead them, and soon it would build daughters, more witches, and they would spawn more, and that would be the end of humanity. But that won't happen. We'll blow this area and it will take them years to find another robot suitable to adapt. By then, it will be too late. I guarantee it. Enough talking - time to go. Sali, trigger the timers." She did. "Tombon, grab that tincan. We'll need it." He did. All else aside, the six of us knew how to obey orders. And so I felt a peculiar dread as he made his way down to me. And then he told me to shoot her - one shot straight to the triangular green gem would fuse her delicate circuits for good.

I lifted my gun, part of me already turning to join Balshire, who hadn't waited to see his commands carried out; moving with clockwike precision again, as always. Part of me assumed I'd already pulled the trigger. That part of me was the most surprised when I instead stepped forward and pressed firmly on girl's button. My hand trailed across her skin as I stepped back.

It took only seconds, but felt like an eternity. Her face relaxed, then that confused surprised look came back. But now she was looking AT me. My gun hand twiched. A distant voice - mine - screamed "You idiot! Shoot her now!"

But instead, I said, "Hey, want to get out of here?"

---

I realize I should be dead. She should have fired lightning from her eyes, or crushed my neck, or just exploded my brain. Whatever it is witches can do - Balshire wasn't very clear on that front. Here I was a man, at the height of his profession, fallen to his hormones in a fell instant and I should be dead for it.

But instead, she cocked her head, and then smiled. I was so entranced, I almost didn't notice in time that she lifted her arm and fired a bolt of lightning at Balshire.

"No! I shouted." I reached out, grabbed the plasma with my mind and struggled to bend the bolt, but could not quite twist it enough. It struck him on the side of the head. He spasmed, flying back into a heap. Fortunately for me, most the rest of the squad reacted slowly. "Y... wha?" was all Tombon could say before Charles and Tim, two other espers, both yanked out their guns. Instincts kicked in and I grabbed the girl and dove behind the metal table. It wasn't perfect cover, but better than nothing. I didn't want to hurt my colleagues, but I knew they'd quickly hurt me. I searched my options frantically; we needed a way out.

None presented themselves before Balshire provided one for me. "Retreat!" he screamed. For the second time, the team paused. "Retreat! Now! The mission is lost!" Through the gaps in the metal framework, I could see him. The side of his head was smoking. For the first time ever, I saw raw panic there. He fled the room, and after a moment, the rest of the team sprinted after, leaving just swearwords behind.

---

We still needed to escape ourselves. Fortunately, my new companion proved entirely adequate in that front, once I explained what I wanted. She took us down side passages at a run, and we were almost clear of the building before the explosives went off. I sincerely hoped my colleagues made it out as well, although ideally not anywhere near me. 

From there, we made our way out of the robot city. She had a way of avoiding trouble not entirely unlike Balshire's, and we easily managed to destroy everything we ran across. We made a good team, but I was having a hard time thinking of what to say. This goddess had inspired an instant crush as a statue, and she was even more stunning in motion, especially almost naked. She seemed a little shy herself. Once we'd reached the relative safety of the streets I noticed her constantly peaking at me from under her long green bangs when I wasn't looking. Shortly after I also noticed her nipples and areola, cyan against the bluer skin of her breasts had become stiff and prominent. I quickly offered her my jacket. She took it for awhile, but it wouldn't zip, and she apparently didn't like the feel of it slapping against the sides of her breasts. "Trade?" she asked? That was her first word spoken to me, and it was so cute and beautiful, I gladly swapped my black beater for the jacket back. Made of a stretchier fabric, it fit over her and offered some containment that she apparently appreciated. 

It was after our second encounter with some machines that I finally forced myself to make conversation. "Does it bother you?" I asked. She looked up at me inquisitively. "To destroy other machines, I mean. We could... find a way to incapacitate them, somehow." I offered.

She smiled again, and my heart lurched. It had to settle soon, or I might not survive this day after all. "I'm okay. They're just empty shells running commands. Not like us. If you break one, and fix it, or replace it with another, nothing is lost." She suddenly seemed to get shy again. "But.. thanks for thinking of me. I'm glad you're nice."

I grunted and we walked on, but I really didn't want to let the conversation die. "Did you know people? Who.. weren't nice? Before, I mean?"

She stopped, and looked confused for a second. "I.. don't think so. I don't really remember anything. Mostly just what the empty ones poured into my head." I didn't know what to say to that, so we walked on in silence a little longer before she added, "It's just like them, that knowledge. Cold and empty." She leaned down an picked up a rock, unintentionally giving me a perfect view. I was surprised to see it was a little on the large side - not as high and perky as it could be. Why build the perfect bot and not give it the perfect shelf glutes? But despite that, and aided by an impressive thigh gap, I noted with some excitement that she seemed fully equipped, too. A little too much excitement. I shifted himself in my pants. 

Unaware of my discomfort, she threw the rock. It flew a good distance, a little further than I could throw, I think, before clattering against a metal side. For some reason, she smiled happily. "I like this way a lot better."

---

We left the last of the pavement by sunset, and had entered a lightly wooded area just after night fell when she announced that we were far enough. I wasn't sure why we were stopping - I could go all night, if I had to - but she had been getting increasingly antsy, so I didn't complain. I didn't actually even know if she needed sleep. We collected some wood and with a touch she set the pile alight. 

We sat, and I stared into the fire. For the first time, I thought about exactly what I'd done. I'd gotten the Livingstar shot. He'd seemed okay, except... his face, that panicked look, came back to me, and I shuddered. My thoughts went around in circles for I don't know how long before I heard the android girl finally talk. "H..hey" was all she said. A very tentative, shy sound. I looked up, and she was looking back at me. This was what... who I'd betrayed humanity for. For a moment, I felt sick, the soldier in me disgusted. That also faded. She just kept staring at me; her eyes flicking down to my chest through the open jacket then back to my face. After a minute watching her eyes, I decided fair was fair. The fire flickered alluringly off her shined skin, softly lit the fabric of my shirt in a way that accented the impossible curve of her breasts, and the very obvious nipples poking out from the front. 

I didn't realize I was staring until she reached up and grabbed her own breast with her hand. Starting from my hypnotic trance, I looked up at her face, and saw she also looked down at herself, surprised. But after a moment, she started gently massaging her breasts, now looking directly back at me.

I'm a fighter, not a lover. The last woman I'd lain with was over five years ago. I felt like something let go inside me, and I croaked out, "You shouldn't do that."

"Why?" she asked. She paused for a moment, then slowly started again. "Because," I said, "If you do that, I might do this." I rose and slide behind her, reaching around and taking her breasts away from her. I was a little rougher, needier. I quickly slipped my hands under the shirt and found her nipples. Her areola made a soft ledge, the size of a silver dollar, and her nipples rose from that, as thick as my middle finger. She arched her back as I traced the circumference of the former, and cried out when I roughly teased the latter. "Oh, gently! Please, oh please! Be gentle!" Her hands clutched ineffectually at my knees. I got the sudden impression I could do anything I wanted to her, and she'd be helpless to stop me. I played gently with her nipples, listening to her mumble, almost under her breath, "Oh.. oh dear. Oh my. OH goodness, that's..." and then twisted her right one clockwise between my thumb and finger. "AAAH!" she jolted in my lap, her hands flapping between my knees and halfway to her breasts. I didn't stop. "AAAH! G.. gentle! Please! I ca... can't ta.. oh, I can't..." I eased off, but the feeling of power and sexuality had me rock hard. Standing, I pulled off her shirt, followed by my pants. I came around front and then... stopped. I wasn't sure what to do. Fortunately, I didn't have to. She stared at my member, and then grabbed it with her hands, feeling it all up and down. Finally, she just looked up at me and said "Wow..."

She stood, then stepped into me. Her breasts pressed against my chest, I could only feel as I slid neatly into her thigh gap. We kissed, on and on, slowly rubbing against eachother. I noticed absently that the green gem diamond in her chest was now faintly glowing pink.

I don't know if I pushed her or she pulled me, but then we were on the grass, across the logs from the fire, desperately trying to find her entrance. I could barely stop myself from shaking when she shouted "Wait!" 

I could only groan inquisitively. 

"Uhm... " she seemed embarrassed. "I need you to.. press.. on the front, down there, where it's sensitive.. and on my nipple at the same time. Hold it. That will turn on my, uh, you know..." she fell into mumbling. "Your... what? Sex mode?" I joked. She nodded. "But.. you're already so..." 

"I know! But it's important. Please?" I could hardly refuse, and I was curious. I pressed hard on her clitoris, and felt another irrational thrill when she spasmed and actually shrieked, "Oh god, grrhahmhfmh" and stuffed a fist into her own mouth. Pressing her nipple elected a similar, if less pronounced response, and then I waited. After four seconds, her eyes widened in surprise - rapidly becoming my favorite look - and she announced "Sex mode activated."

There was no delaying anything after that. She took me inside her, and road me like a stallion. It didn't matter what position we were in, she found a way to keep going. She made me cum, and I didn't have time to get soft before she made me cum again, flat on my back gasping for breath as she slid with desperate need across my oversensitive glans. My second orgasm triggered something in her in turn, and she threw her head back, hair flying wildly, screaming into the night as she thrashed on top of me. "Oh FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK, OH MY GOD FUCK! OH! MY! " she paused, shaking, and grabbed hold of me so hard my ribs creaked as the biggest spasm of them all ripped through her. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHhhhh." Finally spent, she dropped on top of me panting.

And soon after that, crying. But, new as our relationship was, I could tell it wasn't a sad or mad cry, just an overwhelmed one. So I just held her, until she stopped, and we both finally fell to sleep.

---

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