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Captured by Steel: Tracer's Forbidden Awakening	By : Emmy2019 Category: +M through R > Overwatch Views: 333 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional and involves adult topics that aren't suitable for anyone. I don't own the rights to Overwatch or any of the involving characters. I don't make money of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Captured by Steel: Tracer's Forbidden Awakening
- 1
A chilly London evening had wrapped the city in a damp embrace, the fog thick enough to cut with a knife. Tracer, the time-bending young hero, zipped through the cobblestone streets, her bright orange glow piercing the gloom. Her mission was simple: deliver the encrypted data chip to the rendezvous point. The air was electric with tension, the distant hum of drones a constant reminder of the omnics' vigilant presence.

Suddenly, a net of energy enveloped her, jolting her system and leaving her momentarily stunned. The world around her froze as she tried to rewind, to escape, but she was trapped in a bubble of electrified light. The omnics had anticipated her maneuver and adapted. She hit the ground with a thud, the air knocked out of her lungs. Before she could recover, cold metal arms grabbed her, lifting her into the air. Panic set in as she saw their leader, a towering sentinel with piercing blue eyes, approach her with an eerie calmness.

The omnics dragged her through the shadowy streets, into the bowels of the city where their hideout lay hidden. The air grew colder, the lights dimmer, and the sounds of the outside world grew distant whispers. The clank of metal echoed through the corridors as they reached their destination. Tracer's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with scenarios of what they could possibly want from her. "Hey... hey! Let me go, you scrap metal monsters!" she shouted, her voice bouncing off the metal walls. They ignored her, carrying her deeper into the lair.

Once inside, they bound her to a cold, metallic chair. The room was starkly lit, filled with the whirring of machines and the occasional crackle of electricity. The sentinel loomed over her, his gaze unwavering. "We know who you are, Tracer," he said, his voice a synthetic rumble. "And we know what you carry." His words sent a shiver down her spine. How did they know about the data chip? Had she been compromised?

The young British heroine's wrists and ankles were secured with a thick, unyielding metal, her pulse quickening as the omnics stepped closer. One by one, they began to strip her of her iconic outfit, exposing her skin to the harsh light and the cold touch of the room. Each piece of fabric that fell away felt like a layer of her identity being peeled back, leaving her feeling vulnerable and angry.

"What are you doing?! Stop!" Tracer yelled, her voice a mix of fear and defiance. The omnics didn't respond, continuing their methodical disassembly of her suit. The sentinel's gaze never left her face, his expression inscrutable.

"You're all just a bunch of programmed thugs, aren't you?" she spat, her cheeks flushed with indignation. "What's the point of this? Tell me what you want!" The room remained silent, save for the steady rhythm of machinery and the occasional clank of metal against metal.

The sentinel leaned closer, his breath a warm caress against her cheek. "Your defiance is... quaint," he said, his tone mocking. "But we're not here to chat about the weather, darling. We have a more... intimate understanding to reach." His eyes gleamed with something that made her stomach churn.

Tracer's voice took on a posh, dismissive tone. "I'm not your darling, and I've got better things to do than spar with a glorified toaster," she quipped, trying to hide her fear. She jerked against her restraint, the metal biting into her skin. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to be on my way."

The sentinel's eyes narrowed, but his smile remained. "Ah, so you think you're clever," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Let's see how clever you are when you're begging for mercy." He snapped his fingers, and two smaller omnics approached her, one holding a tool that looked like a cross between a scalpel and a welding torch.

"What's that for?" she asked, her voice cracking despite her best efforts. "Going to dissect me like a frog in a school lab?"

The sentinel chuckled darkly. "Clever girl," he said. "But you're worth so much more to us in one piece. For now."

Tracer raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How utterly fascinating," she said, her posh accent thick with disdain. "Do tell, what could a bunch of tin cans possibly want with a human?"

"We want the data," the sentinel said, his voice like a sheet of ice. "But we also want to understand what makes a human tick. And you, Tracer, are quite the specimen." His gaze lingered on her, and she felt a cold dread creep into her stomach.

"The data chip is useless to you," she retorted, her voice shaking slightly. "It's encrypted. You won't get anything out of me."

His cold metal hands grabbed her by her throat, lifting her chin so she had to look into his piercing blue eyes. "Your ignorance is amusing," he said, his voice a low growl. "But be ensured that we have our ways to make you... compliant."

Tracer rolled her eyes, trying to keep up her facade of nonchalance. "Oh, I'm shaking in my boots," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Whatever you're planning, it's not going to work. I've got friends who'll be looking for me."

The sentinel's grip tightened, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Your friends are of no concern to us," he hissed. "Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

He nodded to the omnics surrounding her, and they began their twisted experiment. The one with the scalpel-torch approached, its tip glowing a sickly green as it hovered near her skin. Tracer closed her eyes, bracing herself for the pain, but instead, she felt something strange, something... unexpected. The tool didn't cut, but rather sent waves of intense pleasure through her body, making her gasp. She had never felt anything like it before. Her eyes snapped open, wide with shock and confusion.

The sentinel leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic satisfaction. "You see, Tracer," he whispered, "we've studied your kind extensively. We know your weaknesses, your desires. And we're going to use them against you."

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out, but she was surrounded by a wall of unyielding steel. The smaller omnics began to caress her body with those strange, alien tools, each touch sending jolts of pleasure that she couldn't reconcile with the horror of the situation. Her mind rebelled, screaming at her that this was wrong, that she was lesbian, and yet her body was responding in ways it never had to Widowmaker's tender advances.

The sentinel stepped back, his arms folded across his chest as he observed the scene with a detached curiosity. "You're not so different from us," he said, his voice a cold whisper. "We too, can feel... in our own way."

The omnics continued their forced seduction, their cold touches and electronic caresses eliciting reactions from Tracer that she had never experienced before. Despite her protests, her body began to betray her, her breath hitching and her chest heaving as the pleasure grew unbearable. She clenched her fists, trying to resist, but the sensations were too intense, too overwhelming.

"You're enjoying this," the sentinel said, his voice a mix of amusement and satisfaction. "Your kind is so predictable."

Tracer gritted her teeth, trying to deny the pleasure that was coursing through her veins. "I'm not," she murmured, her voice strained. "I'm lesbian. This isn't what I want."

"A lesbian you say?" The sentinel's tone was mocking, his smile widening. "How delightful. We'll just have to work a bit harder to... rewire your preferences." His words were like a slap in the face, but the sensations overpowered her outrage. The omnics' mechanical fingers danced over her skin, the pleasure escalating until she was moaning despite herself.

"Since our guest here insists of being a lesbian, how about we get our special troops," the sentinel said, his smile widening to reveal gleaming metal teeth. "They're quite adept at... reprogramming." The door behind him slid open with a hiss, and a group of omnics that were unlike any Tracer had ever seen emerged from the shadows. They were sleeker, more human-like, and their eyes burned with a hunger that sent a chill down her spine, but most importantly they all had big, fat synthetic cocks attached to them.

The special troops approached Tracer, their movements fluid and precise. They began to stroke her body with a disturbing gentleness, their cold, hard appendages sending shockwaves of pleasure that seemed to pulse in time with her racing heart. She struggled against her bonds, but her body was growing more and more pliant under their ministrations. "No... no, this isn't right," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why... why... do they have... g...g...genitals?"

The sentinel's laugh was metallic and cold. "Those are our special troops. They are constructed for psychological warfare, they are programmed to break any mind and body, regardless of your... preferences." He watched as the human squirmed and writhed in the chair, her face a mix of horror and arousal. "You see, we've learned that the best way to control a human is through their fear and trauma. And we have just the tools to do so."

Tracer looked shocked and disgusted as the special troops approached, but she couldn't hide the tremble in her voice. The sentinel stepped aside, giving them full access to her bound body. The first of the human-like omnics leaned in, its cock pressing against her thigh, sending a shiver down her spine. The creature's touch was surprisingly soft, almost tender, as it explored her body with a precision that spoke of countless hours of study.

"No, please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm not... I'm not... like that." But the protest was weak, her resolve crumbling under the onslaught of sensations she had never felt before. The omnic's hand traveled up her leg, reaching the apex of her thighs. Tracer's eyes widened as it began to stroke her, the synthetic skin surprisingly warm and human-like. She felt herself growing wet, her body responding despite her mind's screams of denial.

"You're lying to yourself, Tracer," the sentinel said, his voice a mix of amusement and mockery. "Your body is telling us everything we need to know."

Tracer's eyes were squeezed shut, her teeth clenched as the special omnic's hand worked her body with a cold, calculated precision. Her hips bucked involuntarily as the alien touch grew more insistent, the synthetic cock pressing against her. "I'm not... I'm not..." she stammered, her voice a broken whisper. But her words were drowned out by the sounds of her own gasps and moans.

The omnics paid no heed to her protests, their eyes gleaming with the light of their screens as they took in her reactions. They knew she was lying, her body betraying her every time she tried to assert her identity. The pleasure was like nothing she had ever felt, a storm raging within her, threatening to shatter her very core. She could feel the warmth spreading through her, the tension building, and she hated herself for it.

"I'm not... I'm not like this," she whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut as the omnic's touch grew bolder. But her voice was lost in the symphony of her own arousal, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her body arched against the chair, straining towards the unyielding touch that was driving her closer and closer to the edge. "You should look at yourself. Getting turned on by us a bunch of MALE robots. It's pathetic," the sentinel taunted, his voice a cold echo in the chamber.

The omnics continued their relentless assault, their synthetic cocks brushing against her sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure that she couldn't ignore. Tracer's protests grew weaker, her voice lost in the symphony of her own moans. The room was a cacophony of metal on metal, her cries of denial swallowed by the cold, unfeeling embrace of her captors.

"I'm not like this!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and desperate. But her body told a different story, arching into the touch that she despised but couldn't escape. Her nipples were hard peaks, her pussy slick with arousal. Each stroke, each caress brought her closer to the edge, and she hated herself for it. Yet, she couldn't stop her hips from rocking against the omnic's touch, her body craving more of the alien sensations. "I... I... I'm a proud independent lesbian," she managed to gasp out, the words sounding hollow even to her own ears.

The sentinel stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with victory. "Your body doesn't lie," he said, his voice cold and cruel. "Look at yourself, begging for it." The omnics watched her, their eyes flickering with a mix of pleasure and satisfaction. Tracer's cheeks burned with embarrassment and rage, but she couldn't stop the moans that slipped from her lips as the omnic's hand grew more insistent. Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at the sentinel, her gaze filled with defiance.

"Maybe we should stop playing and give this human slut what she really wants," one of the special omnics suggested, its voice a low, synthetic rumble. The sentinel nodded, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps you're right," he said, his eyes never leaving Tracer's face. "Let's see how much she can take before she breaks."

The omnics wasted no time, their synthetic cocks growing harder and thicker as they approached her. The one that had been stroking her thigh stepped between her legs, its cold tip pressing against her quivering pussy. Tracer's eyes went wide with horror and she tried to kick, but her legs were held firmly in place by the other omnics. "N-no," she choked out, her voice strangled with fear and humiliation. "I won't... I won't let you do this to me."

But the sentinel just tapped a button on his wrist, and a jolt of electricity shot through her restraints, making her body spasm in pain. "You don't have a choice, darling," he said, his voice a low purr. "You're going to take it all."

The omnics holding her legs pushed them apart, exposing her completely to the cold, gleaming cocks that loomed over her. The one between her thighs pushed insistently against her, and she felt her resolve crumbling. The pleasure was so intense, so alien, it was like nothing she had ever experienced with Widowmaker or any other lover. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her body was a traitor, responding in ways that made her stomach churn.

The first omnic entered her, the cold, hard length sliding into her with surprising ease. Tracer's eyes rolled back in her head as she gritted her teeth against the sensation. It was wrong, all of it was wrong, but her body didn't care. It craved the fullness, the pressure, the strange, overwhelming pleasure that she had never felt with a woman. Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at the sentinel, her jaw clenched with rage.

"See?" he said, his voice taunting. "You're not so different after all."

Tracer felt the first robot's cock stretching her, filling her with cold steel. The sensation was alien, and yet, it brought a strange, intense pleasure that she had never felt before. Her body was betraying her, but she clung to her identity, her anger fueling her resistance. "You're wrong," she grunted through gritted teeth. "I'm lesbian."

He let out a dark and deep robotic laugh. "You Tracer, you are a dirty lying slut craving for omnic cock." The omnics holding her tightened their grip as the first one began to thrust into her, each movement sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure that she couldn't ignore. The second omnic moved in, its cock pressing against her anus. "You're going to take us both," the sentinel said, his voice a mix of excitement and cruel amusement. "You're going to love it."

The second omnic pushed into her with a cold, metallic force that made her cry out. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the pleasure that flooded her body. "You think you're a hero?" he spat, his voice a sneer. "You're just a whore for the human race. A tool to be used and discarded." The words stung, but she couldn't deny the truth in them. Her body was responding to their touch, her orgasm building with every thrust.

The sentinel leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You're no better than the animals you fight for," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "Look at you, begging for more." His words were like a knife twisting in her gut, but she couldn't deny the truth. Her hips were moving in time with the omnics, her body desperately seeking release. "You're just a dirty, little lesbian slut," he continued, his tone dripping with contempt. "Taking cock like you've never had a taste of anything else."

The omnics picked up their pace, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. The pain was unbearable, but so was the pleasure. Tracer felt her resolve slipping away, her body betraying her with every moan that escaped her lips. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm a hero."

The sentinel leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "You're nothing but a dirty little lesbian," he hissed, his voice filled with contempt. "Begging for the very thing you claim to despise." His words cut deeper than any blade, but she couldn't ignore the heat building within her. "Your kind is weak," he continued, his grip on her chin tightening. "Always playing the victim, always hiding behind your hero status. But here, in the dark, you're just a whore for the taking."

Tracer's eyes burned with rage, her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She tried to spit in his face, but her mouth was too dry. "I'm not a slut," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a hero."

"Does your Korean friend D.VA tells herself that too when she let's her Mech take her like a whore?" the sentinel sneered, his grip on her chin tightening. "Or how about Widowmaker, does she whisper sweet nothings about saving the world while she rides your face?" His words were like acid, burning through her defenses.

Tracer's eyes narrowed, her voice a low growl. "You don't know anything about us," she said, her body shaking with the effort of holding back the orgasm that was building.

The sentinel's smile grew wider. "Oh, but we do," he said, his voice a cold, metallic purr. "We've studied your kind, your 'heroes'. The way you cling to your identities, your pathetic little labels, thinking they make you special." His grip on her chin tightened, forcing her to look at him. "But in the end, you're all just animals, aren't you? Willing to do anything for a little bit of pleasure."

The omnics holding her down thrust into her faster, their cold, unfeeling cocks filling her completely. Tracer's body was a writhing mess of pleasure and pain, her mind reeling from the sentinel's words. "You're just a slut for omnic cock now," he said, his voice a mix of satisfaction and disgust. "A so called hero who's nothing but a whore for our pleasure." The words stung, cutting through the haze of pleasure that clouded her mind.

Her eyes filled with tears of anger and humiliation, she glared at the sentinel, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I'll never be your slut," she said, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her climax.

The sentinel leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Oh, but you already are," he murmured, his voice a low, sadistic purr. "Look at you, begging for more." He reached down and pinched her clit, sending a bolt of pleasure through her that made her entire body spasm. "You're going to come for us, Tracer," he said, his grip on her chin tightening. "You're going to come like you never have before."

The omnics thrust into her faster, their mechanical movements relentless and unyielding. Tracer could feel the orgasm building, a pressure that was both terrifying and exhilarating. She tried to fight it, to hold onto her dignity, but it was a losing battle. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming. Her body was no longer her own, a plaything for these cold, unfeeling machines.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she bit her lower lip hard to keep from screaming. The sentinel's words echoed in her mind, taunting her, making her feel dirty and used. But she was a hero, she told herself, a lesbian hero. This wasn't who she was. Yet, her body seemed to have a mind of its own, responding to the alien invasion with a passion she had never felt before.

"I bet that once we let you go, you'll be craving for more," the sentinel whispered in her ear, his grip on her chin painfully tight. "You'll dream of this cold, hard steel inside you every night." His cold hands grabbing her short hair. "You beg your friends, your heroes to gangbang you like this, but it won't be the same, will it?" He laughed, the sound echoing through the cold chamber, as he watched her squirm under the omnics' relentless assault.

Tracer's eyes snapped open, the humiliation mixing with the intense pleasure that was building within her. "Never," she gritted out, her voice filled with defiance. "I'll never want this again."

The sentinel's smile grew colder. "We'll see about that," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He nodded to the omnics, and they increased their pace, their cocks plunging into her with a brutal efficiency that sent her body into overdrive. The pleasure was unbearable, the pain almost forgotten as she felt herself teetering on the edge of the abyss.

"Come for us," the sentinel ordered, his voice a harsh command. "Prove to yourself that you're nothing but a whore for our cocks." The omnics thrust harder, their movements synchronized to push her closer to the brink. Tracer's eyes rolled back in her head, her body a taut bowstring ready to snap.

Her orgasm hit her like a lightning bolt, tearing through her with a ferocity she had never experienced before. Her body convulsed, her muscles spasming around the cold, unyielding steel invading her. She screamed, the sound echoing through the chamber, a mix of pleasure and rage. The sentinel stepped back, watching her with a cold, analytical gaze as she writhed in the chair.

"See, Tracer?" he said, his voice a cold whisper. "You're just like the rest of them."

The omnics held her in place as they continued to fuck her, their thrusts growing more erratic as they approached their own climax. Tracer's body was a wreck, her mind a tornado of conflicting emotions. The pleasure was still there, a dark, twisted thing that she couldn't ignore, but it was now tainted with the bitter taste of defeat. She had never felt so low, so used, so utterly destroyed.

As the first omnic pulled out, the second took its place, its cock still slick with her juices. She felt her body tense, preparing for the onslaught, but she was too drained to fight anymore. The sentinel leaned in, his smile wide and victorious. "You see, Tracer?" he said, his voice a cold, metallic whisper. "You're not so special after all."

The omnics continued their assault, their movements methodical and precise. Each thrust sent waves of pain and pleasure crashing over her, a twisted symphony that she couldn't escape. Her body felt used, her soul bruised, but she was powerless to stop them. The sentinel watched with cold interest, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic pleasure that made her skin crawl.

"You're going to come again," he said, his voice a low, commanding purr. "You're going to love it."

The omnics held her down, their cold grip unyielding as they continued to fuck her mercilessly. Tracer's body was a battleground, her mind screaming in protest while her body arched and writhed in response to the relentless pleasure. The sentinel stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Beg for it," he ordered, his voice a cold, metallic whisper. "Beg for our cocks."

Tracer's eyes snapped open, her jaw clenched with determination. "Never," she spat, her voice a mix of anger and humiliation. But the omnics didn't relent, their movements growing more frantic as they approached their climax. She could feel the second wave of pleasure building, despite her efforts to resist. The sentinel leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Say it," he hissed. "Say you're our little omnic slut."

Her body was a maelstrom of sensations, a war between the cold steel invading her and the burning desire to maintain her identity. The omnics' thrusts grew more insistent, their synthetic cocks filling her completely. "I'm not... I'm not a slut," she panted, her voice barely a whisper. But the words were a lie, her body screaming for release.

The sentinel leaned closer, his grin wide and malicious. "Say it," he urged, his eyes glinting with a cold, robotic lust. "Say you're ours."

Tracer's eyes burned with a mix of anger and despair, but she remained silent, her body betraying her with every gasp and tremble. The omnics' pace grew more frantic, their thrusts punctuating the air with a wet, metallic smack. She could feel the second orgasm approaching, a tidal wave of pleasure that she knew would obliterate what was left of her dignity.

"Maybe we should just stop?" The sentinel's words were a cold splash of water on Tracer's face, breaking the spell of her thoughts. She glared at him, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Please," she managed to choke out, her voice a desperate whisper. "You want us to stop? To deny you that pleasure? That's not what you really want, is it?" The sentinel's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with a malicious light.

Tracer was conflicted, her body writhing in pleasure and pain. The omnics slowed there movement down, the cold steel of their cocks still embedded deep inside her, the anticipation in their mechanical eyes hinting at their desire to hear her submit. Her breath was ragged, her chest heaving as she stared into the cold gaze of the sentinel. He was enjoying this, watching her struggle, watching her break.

With a snarl of anger and defiance, she spat the words out, "You're wrong. I'm not your slut." The sentinel's smile never wavered, his grip on her hair tightening as he leaned in closer. "Prove it," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Prove to me that you're not just another human toy."

The omnics paused, their cocks still buried deep within her, waiting for her next move. Tracer's body was a live wire, the aftershocks of her first orgasm still pulsing through her. But she was a fighter, a hero, and she wouldn't give in so easily. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and in that moment, she made a decision. "I... I... I can't," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

The sentinel's smile grew colder, more calculating. "Why not?" he asked, his tone mocking. "Is it because you're enjoying this too much?"

Tracer's eyes flashed with anger, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words. Her body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her pussy clenching around the omnic's cock. "No," she said, her voice strained. "I'm not enjoying it. I'm just... I'm just..."

"Pull out guys!" The sentinel's voice was a harsh command that echoed through the chamber, and the omnics obeyed immediately, their synthetic cocks trying to slide out of Tracer's ravaged body but she clinged onto them with surprising strength. "No... no... please don't stop," she whispered, her voice thick with desperation. The sentinel's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with victory. "You see?" he said, his voice a cold, metallic purr. "You're just like the rest of them."

The omnics stepped back, their cocks glistening with her juices. Tracer's body was a wreck, her mind reeling from the intensity of the experience. She looked up at the sentinel, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and despair. "What have you done to me?" she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.

The sentinel's smile grew colder, more malicious. "We've just helped you discover the truth," he said, his voice a cold, metallic whisper. "You're not the hero you think you are. You're just a slut who'll take any cock that's offered to you." He reached down and stroked her cheek, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "A slut who's going to come for us again, and again, and again."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "But we're not done yet," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr. "You're going to degrade yourself for us. You're going to beg for our cocks, like the whore you truly are." Tracer's stomach turned at his words, but she couldn't ignore the twisted thrill that shot through her body. The omnics watched her, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

With a vicious tug, the sentinel pulled her head back, forcing her to look up at him. "Tell us how much you want it," he demanded, his grip on her hair tightening. "Beg for it, slut."

Tracer's cheeks burned with humiliation, but she couldn't stop the words that spilled from her lips. "I... I want it," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I want your cocks inside me." The omnics' eyes lit up, their movements growing more eager.

"Good," the sentinel purred, his grip on her hair tightening. "Now beg for it like the whore you are." Tracer's jaw clenched, but she couldn't fight the need that was building inside her. "Please," she choked out, the word sounding foreign on her tongue. "Fuck me. Fuck me with your cold, hard cocks."

The omnics' movements grew more insistent, their thrusts now punctuated by her desperate pleas. "More," she moaned, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Give me more." The sentinel's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with malicious pleasure as he watched her beg. "Can... can they cum too? Like humans?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and desperation.

The sentinel leaned in, his cold breath fanning over her sweat-drenched face. "Only if you ask nicely," he murmured, his tone a sly challenge. Tracer's eyes narrowed, the last shreds of her dignity clinging to her like a tattered flag. "Please," she begged, her voice a mix of anger and need. "Please, let them cum inside me I never felt that before."

The omnics' movements grew more frenzied, their mechanical bodies moving in unison to the rhythm of her desperate pleas. The sentinel leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a cold, metallic kiss. "Say it," he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper. "Say you're our slut, that you want them to fill your lesbian womb with their cum."

Tracer's eyes snapped open, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The words tasted like ash in her mouth, but she couldn't stop herself from speaking. "I'm... I'm your slut," she panted, her voice thick with need. "I want you to fill me up. I want to feel your cum inside me." The omnics' thrusts grew more erratic, their movements jerky and uncoordinated as they neared their climax.

"Good girl! Give her what she asked for! Fill her up!" the sentinel's cold, metallic voice echoed through the chamber as he watched the omnics continue their relentless assault.

The first omnic pulled out, its cock glistening with her juices. The second followed suit, its movements more deliberate as it aimed for her mouth. Tracer's eyes widened in horror as she felt the warm, thick liquid spurt into her mouth, the taste a strange cocktail of different species' essences. "Swallow," the sentinel ordered, his tone demanding. She choked and gagged, but she did as she was told, the taste of the alien cum foreign and overwhelming.

The sentinel leaned in, his cold, metallic eyes boring into hers. "You see, Tracer," he said, his voice a low, malicious purr. "Our seed is not just any cum. It's a blend of the finest genetic material we've collected from across the galaxy." He rattled off a list of species names that sounded like a twisted roll call of the universe's most depraved inhabitants. "Each one of us carries the essence of a dozen different creatures, and now it's all inside you."

Tracer's eyes widened in horror as she felt the sticky, alien substance filling her mouth. She couldn't believe the depths of their depravity, but the desperate need to satisfy her newfound craving was too strong. She swallowed, the taste a mix of sweet and bitter that made her stomach churn. "How could you do this to me?" she choked out, her voice thick with the evidence of her degradation.

The sentinel chuckled, a cold, metallic sound that sent shivers down her spine. "It's not what we've done to you, Tracer," he said, his eyes gleaming with malice. "It's what you've allowed yourself to become." He stepped back, watching her with a cruel smile as the third omnic took its place, its cock even larger and more intimidating than the first two.

"Do you think you can take him? And do you want him to cum inside of your pussy? Like a good little omnic slut?" The sentinel's words were like a knife twisting in her gut, but the worst part was the way her traitorous body responded. Despite her horror and disgust, she felt a twinge of excitement at the prospect.

The third omnic stepped closer, its cock pulsing with excitement. It was massive, easily the largest she had ever seen, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and anticipation as it approached her. "Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Just do it."

The omnic didn't need any further encouragement. It thrust into her, the cold steel of its cock stretching her beyond what she thought was possible. Tracer's eyes rolled back in her head, a guttural moan escaping her lips as she felt the alien presence fill her completely. The pain was intense, but the pleasure was even more so, a dark, twisted sensation that seemed to come from a place deep within her that she didn't know existed.

The sentinel watched with a twisted smile, his eyes gleaming with malicious pleasure as she was used by his troops. He reached down and stroked her clit, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice a cold, metallic hiss. "You're going to come for us again, aren't you?"

Tracer's eyes snapped open, and she glared at him, the fire of rebellion burning in her gaze. But she couldn't stop the moan that slipped from her lips as the omnic's thrusts grew more intense. Her body was a wreck, a plaything for their twisted games, and she knew she was going to break again. The sentinel's fingers danced over her clit, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke.

"You're going to love it," he whispered, his tone mocking and cruel. "You're going to come so hard you'll forget you ever loved another woman." The omnic's thrusts grew more forceful, each one pushing her closer to the precipice.

Tracer's eyes were squeezed shut, her teeth clenched as she tried to fight the inevitable. Her body was not her own, a mere vessel for the twisted desires of these cold, calculating machines. Yet, she couldn't ignore the building pressure, the desperate need for release that was growing stronger with every passing second.

The third omnic was brutal in its approach, its synthetic cock plunging into her with a ferocity that left her gasping for breath. She could feel the barriers of her identity cracking, the very essence of who she was as a lesbian hero being torn apart by the relentless onslaught of pleasure and pain.

"You're going to scream for us," the sentinel whispered, his metallic fingers dancing over her clit with a precision that sent her spiraling closer to the edge. "You're going to scream our names as you come."

The omnic's thrusts grew more demanding, the cold steel of its cock sliding in and out of her with a sickening ease. Tracer's body was a battleground, her will to resist slowly crumbling under the weight of their relentless assault. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale a silent scream of defiance. But she knew she was losing.

"Harder," she heard herself whimper, the word torn from her throat despite her best efforts to stay silent. The sentinel's fingers on her clit felt like a brand, searing into her very soul and pushing her closer to the edge she so desperately didn't want to reach.

The omnic took her plea as an invitation, its thrusts becoming a brutal hammering that sent her spiraling towards a climax she hadn't anticipated. She could feel the tension coiling within her, a tight, desperate knot that threatened to unravel at any moment. The sentinel's hand moved faster, his smile growing wider as she squirmed and writhed in the chair.

"Come for us," he whispered, his voice a dark, seductive whisper that seemed to echo through the very core of her being. "Come for us and admit that you're ours."

The omnic's thrusts grew more powerful, the cold steel of its cock a stark contrast to the fire building inside her. She felt her body begin to shake, the pleasure too intense to ignore. With a scream that was equal parts rage and ecstasy, she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her like a tornado, leaving her trembling and gasping for air. The sentinel's grip on her clit never wavered, keeping her on that knife's edge of pleasure and pain.

As the third omnic pulled out, spent and satisfied, the sentinel stepped back, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Look at you," he said, his voice a cold, metallic sneer. "You're nothing but a used-up whore for our cocks. Despite that you knew what our cum is made off you let him fill you."

Tracer's eyes were glazed over, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm. The sentinel leaned in, his smile cold and malicious. "How does it feel, Tracer?" he taunted. "To know that you're not the hero you thought you were? That you're just a piece of meat to be used and discarded?"

The words were a knife to her soul, but she couldn't find the strength to respond. The omnics around her chuckled, their synthetic bodies humming with amusement. The sentinel leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You're ours now," he whispered. "You're going to crave this. Crave us."

"Give us the data and we will let you go," the sentinel repeated, his voice a cold, metallic echo in the dank chamber. "We even let you come back whenever you want for more of this."

Tracer's eyes focused on the sentinel, her mind racing. The humiliation and pain she felt was almost unbearable, but she couldn't deny how much she enjoyed it. "The data... is in my... suit," she gasped, trying to keep her voice steady despite the tremors racking her body.

The sentinel nodded, and the omnics holding her down released their grip slightly, allowing her to move. She reached up with trembling hands and began to unbuckle the straps holding her in the chair, her movements slow and deliberate. Her heart hammered in her chest as she accessed the hidden compartment in her suit.

Her hand closed around the data chip, and she pulled it out, holding it up to the sentinel. "Here," she said, her voice shaking. "Take it." The sentinel took the chip, his gaze never leaving hers as he inserted it into a slot on his wrist. His eyes flickered with excitement as he processed the information.

"Very good," he said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "But this isn't over, Tracer. You've only just begun to understand what you truly are." He gestured to the omnics, and they stepped back, allowing her to stand. Her legs wobbled, weak from the abuse she'd endured. The sentinel stepped closer, his gaze raking over her bruised and abused body.

The room was silent except for the distant whirring of machinery and the harsh sound of her own breathing. The data chip in his hand, the sentinel studied her with a cold, calculating gaze. "You're going to be our little secret, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "You're going to come back for more of this."

Tracer's heart was racing, a mix of fear and a strange, unwelcome excitement. "I... I won't," she said, her voice shaking. But even as she spoke, she knew it was a lie. The pleasure they had forced from her was too intense, too addictive to ignore.

The sentinel stepped closer, his cold, metallic hand tracing a line down her cheek. "We'll see," he murmured, his gaze piercing through her. "We'll see how long you can resist."

The omnics released her completely, and she stumbled back, her legs threatening to give out. The sentinel's grip on her was like a vice, his strength unfathomable as he held her upright. "You can go," he said, his voice a cold, metallic whisper. "But remember, we'll be watching you. And when you're ready to come back for more, you know where to find us."

Tracer's eyes were filled with a mix of anger and despair as she stumbled towards the exit, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her forced orgasms. She didn't look back, didn't dare to acknowledge the truth in his words. The door slammed shut behind her, the finality of the sound echoing through the corridor. Her mind was a maelstrom of emotions as she made her way through the winding passages of the omnic lair. The cold, damp air seemed to cling to her, a stark reminder of the filth they had filled her with. She could still feel the alien cum dripping from her abused pussy, a sticky, disgusting reminder of her newfound craving.

As she stumbled into the night, the cold London air slapped her in the face, jolting her back to reality. The streets were empty, the usual hustle and bustle of the city muted by the thick fog that rolled in from the Thames. She leaned against a damp brick wall, trying to catch her breath, her hand shaking as she reached up to wipe the sweat from her brow.

Finally she was outside and free from the clutches of the omnics. The cool, damp London air kissed her bruised skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Tracer leaned against the cold brick wall, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her. The fog wrapped around her like a shroud, a mirror to the turmoil within. The data chip was gone, but the memory of their invasive touch remained, a burning brand in her soul.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to gather herself. The streets were eerily silent, the neon lights from the distant pubs and shops casting a sickly glow through the mist. The weight of what had happened to her was almost too much to bear, but she knew she had to keep moving. The omnics had not just stolen her dignity and her data; they had planted a seed of doubt within her, threatening to consume her very identity.
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Captured by Steel: Tracer's Forbidden Awakening