Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(66)

Mark’s eyes slid over Raquel’s smooth golden skin and perky tits, and then eyed Sierra’s eye-catching ass. He was rethinking his plan to skip stopping for rest as they drove toward Seattle. An hour in a roadside motel exploring the possibilities of using a control freq wand as a sex toy would be better than sleep.

She approached them with a bouncy step and gave them another brilliant smile as she poured their coffee. “Have you folks decided what you’re having?”

Mark looked around the table. The five slave soldiers glared at him fixedly. For f*ck’s sake. “Bring us all steak, baked potato and string beans,” Mark said.

Sierra scribbled on her pad. “Right away!” she chirped.

Mark assessed the restaurant as they waited. It was late for the lunch rush, early for dinner, and their section was empty. He decided to activate Sierra now. Risky, but he was trading one risk for another.

When she came back with the tray of plates, he waited until she had set them all set on the table before pulling out the freq wand and giving her a long, hard zap.

She stumbled forward with a grunt, hitting the table. A water glass fell over, scattering ice cubes and water across the table and onto the lap of R-Gen 57-629, also known as Ty Matthews. Ty did not react to the ice water. He just kept staring.

Mark put his hand on her shoulder, speaking low and clear, keeping the freq want pointed at her. “You real job just started, Sierra,” he said. “I own you now, and you’ll do everything I say. Do you understand?”

Sierra swayed drunkenly as the spilled water soaked into the front of her apron. Her sig showed the same violent color upheavals as all the others had done. Her lips were forming words, but she couldn’t force them out. Or wouldn’t.

He dialed up the pain setting, careful not to overdo it. He didn’t want her to make a scene or fall to the ground. Just a sharp jab. To show her how things were going to be from now on.

The sudden shocking pain made her bite her lip. Blood welled up on the full, sexy curve of her plump lower lip. It made his cock stiffen and throb. He smiled at her.

“Come closer, Sierra,” he ordered. “Lean down . . . and kiss me.”

She took her time, so he took his. He just let the freq wand buzz. The combo of intense, racking pain and her obedience programming finally won out.

She slowly bent over him. Her formerly rosy face had gone sickly pale, shiny with a sheen of sweat. The blood on her lip was a striking contrast to her pallor.

And she still hesitated, inches from his lips. Fighting it. Dumb, stubborn cow.

He seized her chin, his fingernails digging brutally hard into her smooth skin as her lips touched his. His cock thickened at the contact, a hot pulse of lust, sharpened by the revulsion showing in her sig. He licked the salty drop of blood off her lower lip. Thrust his tongue into her mouth. Intensive retraining was in order for this one.

He could hardly wait to administer it.

Fresh blood had welled into the bite wound on her lip. He spread it with his fingertip like lip gloss, covering the bluish pallor of her lip. He took his hand from her chin. His nails had dug half moons into her skin. They too had filled with blood.

“Nice to see a bitch who knows her place,” he whispered. He pinched her nipple through the white polo shirt with his bloodstained fingers. His fingers left a rusty smear.

Her face contracted, mouth trembling. But she couldn’t say a word.

“Listen carefully, Sierra,” he said. “We’re going to eat our meal. You will continue as if nothing had happened. Bring us refills on coffee. Bring us our check. After we leave the restaurant, follow us to the parking lot in back of the fabric warehouse at the end of the mall. I want you out there in ten minutes. No longer.”

Her eyelids fluttered. She made a short, choked sound.

“Go,” he snarled. “Go do as I told you.”

She lurched across the room, knocking over a chair in the process.

The distilled loathing in the eyes of the other slave soldiers had intensified, if that was even possible. The puddle of ice water kept dripping steadily onto Ty’s lap. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Eat your f*cking food,” he snarled.

They picked up their forks. He wondered if he’d have to tell them when to piss.

Sierra came back to refill their coffee. She was sweaty, hands trembling, but still functioning. She offered no more chitchat.

Mark paid the check that Sierra had left. The other slave soldiers clumped along behind him, not even pretending to behave normally. Still defying him.

They walked in absolute silence to the remote, empty parking lot at the end of the strip mall where he’d left the truck. When they arrived, he got out the freq wand and turned the pain setting to the highest level.

“This is what happens when you show me attitude,” he said.

He punished them all, one after the other. Their shrieking and writhing felt good. He prolonged the session for the last one, Raquel. He particularly enjoyed the way all that violent arching and twisting made her tits bounce.

“Mommy? What’s that guy doing to that lady?”

Mark spun around, startled. He’d been so involved in Raquel’s punishment, he hadn’t even heard them approach. A young, pimply woman with messy pink hair and an old army coat was gaping at them. She held the hand of a little boy in a gray down jacket. Her hand was covered with tattoos. The kid was maybe four years old.