Temptation Protocol Pt. 05

Author's Note

Thanks so much for reading (and for waiting SO long)! If you're new to the series, I strongly encourage you to go back to the beginning! This part expands a lot of the world and begins to dig deep into the future of the story. Don't spoil yourself! Thanks again, and enjoy!

Chapter 23: Immediacy

Lucas walked in front of Sarea with his shoulders hunched. Sarea wanted to reach out and rub his back, to take his hand, to do anything to comfort him. Then she wanted to scream because that thought wasn't hers was it? These fucking drugs. Still, it wouldn't really be for his benefit, would it? No. He had been so stable and calm that seeing him this distraught had let fear creep through her mind. Not just fear, something larger and worse. An existential terror. Could she survive this without him? What had happened in there? Why was Lucas shaking?

In her mind, his presence shimmered in a dozen different hues, each a reflection of an emotion or thought that rattled around his mind. She hadn't seen him this turbulent, yet. He had always been a single color, a single tone, in control, his thoughts in hand and his purpose clear. Now, though, Sarea thought she could poke and prod at the bond and he'd crumble, turn into a blubbering mess just when she needed him strong. While that troubled her, she had her own worries to contend with.

Sarea still leaked lube. She realized it also had narcotic or aphrodisiac elements, tainting her thoughts, molding her. Layers on layers of manipulation. For every biological and mental protection she'd built for herself over years of netrunning and hacking, Covenant had a weapon against it. The nightmare of the previous two days only deepened as she realized how insidious these drugs were. She'd been raped, again, and instead of being repulsed at the vile act, she had felt good. Instead of hating the man who had done it, she was worried about him. She knew each time it happened was a chink in her armor, but armor could be repaired. The fear that gnawed at Sarea's mind now was what permanent damage this was doing to her and whether she'd even know it.

Sarea was tired of drugs and tired of her mind lying to her. She was tired of her drug-addled mind coaxing feelings for this hulking brute, her rapist. Bile rose in her throat as she followed Terese and Lucas. Sarea blinked the tears away and coughed. She had known life could change in the blink of an eye. Hers had, twice. First when her father died, the second when she'd gotten her first modifications, but this was different. It wasn't just a different life trajectory, a new job. She was a prisoner. A sex slave, practically. She clenched her fists and tried her mods again.

After her dad had died, Sarea had been lost. She'd wandered the streets of San Francisco looking for any means of survival, even if it meant rubbing elbows-and worse-with the wrong people. For a few years, it had been all right. She made ends meet, crafted underworld connections across the country, learned to hack and netrun. Then Otis came along. He was big and gentle-at first-and cared, until he didn't. Sarea hadn't even seen the snare and the trap, hadn't realized she'd become a prisoner, addicted and scared, used for whatever Otis wanted that night. Humanity had changed, but opium hadn't. Her addiction had been complete, a backbreaking weight that she relied on Otis to fix.

Eventually, every part of her had been taken and co-opted until Sarea didn't know who she was anymore, other than a toy for Otis and whatever friend or john wanted her. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and she woke one morning, shaking from withdrawal, to find that two years had passed. Otis had shaken her awake, told her she had a client. Sarea had begged for a hit, anything to help beforehand, but Otis just smacked her. To this day, Sarea didn't know why that smack had changed everything, but it had. She scraped and saved, stealing any credit she could from any man or woman who rented her out.

Only a few months later, she'd saved enough for her first mods, getting hacked apart and put back together in a back alley hospital. When she'd returned to Otis' place, high on painkillers and buzzing with vengeance, she flexed her new actuators almost to breaking as she tore Otis in two. She swore she'd never be a prisoner like that again.

Yet here she was. A prisoner again. She knew she was still in shock, that her mind was protecting her from the horror of what had happened, or at least she hoped it was shock. In truth, it might be something more.

The most infuriating part was the compulsion. The complete body betrayal. Disiac wasn't like opiates. It wasn't like anything else. She couldn't trust her own thoughts. The fact that she wanted to comfort this man at all stunned her, and yet there it was, the feeling, the compulsion. Sarea sighed and reminded herself that more than anything, she was a survivor, and she'd survive this, too. Even if it meant playing her part until she could escape. Sarea just hoped she wouldn't be too far gone at the end of all this.             

The group entered a large cafeteria. It was like any other corporate headquarters lunch room except all around them were women and men in various states of undress, the chains of their station on them. The Kept here were mostly without their masters, though it was clear to Sarea that some few people here were of a higher order than her. Tables lined the walls and filled the central atrium. Broad windows on the eastern side showed Lake Michigan through the clouds, its murky, polluted water reflecting the sun in ruddy yellow streaks.

Sarea fought the urge to cringe and cover her most vulnerable parts with her hands. Her skin suit, just opaque enough to not reveal everything revealed enough. Sarea knew she was beautiful and fit-she'd paid enough at the doctor for it-but she didn't relish being so exposed to anyone who would look, and people looked. The cafeteria had the air of a high school lunchroom, at least among those in servitude. Sarea noted that those with more ornate chains, often strewn with charms whose meaning Sarea did not know, wore more clothes. Appraising looks glanced off of Sarea and Lucas, some with pity in their eyes, others with envy, more with malice. Sarea put her chin up.

Terese turned to them, "You have an hour for lunch. Collect yourself, eat lightly. This afternoon will not be intense, all things considered, but it will be new."

She didn't wait for a response and left. Apparently the cafeteria was beneath her. Lucas just stood there. His eyes were distant, his jaw slack. Sarea steadied her mind and breathing, then took his hand in hers and led him gently to the food lines. His hand was massive, dwarfing hers completely, but he locked his fingers into hers and gripped her tightly. Covenant seemed to care a great deal about their slaves. The cafe served rich foods, rice pilaf and some kind of stew, and salads. It was cafeteria fare, but high quality.

Sarea heeded Terese's advice. She put together two simple plates of food, greens, fats, proteins. Something to sustain them without getting too full. Given the debauched events up to this point, she hated to think what might come next, but they needed their strength. With their plates full, Sarea surveyed the room. There were spots at tables with other Kept; Sarea considered joining them to get more information, but their body language spoke volumes. Stay away, sit elsewhere.

Instead, they took a place at an empty, small table in the middle of the cafeteria. Lucas wouldn't look at her. His eyes trained on his food as he mechanically ate. The bond still shimmered in different hues. Was his hand shaking? Sarea studied him discreetly, thinking of some way to keep him steady and stable long enough for them to get through this. They ate in silence until Sarea could take it no longer.

"What happened in there, Lucas?" she asked.

He stopped mid-bite. "You didn't see? Feel it?"

"I mean, I saw something in my mind, sure. Like a dark monster wrapping the part of you that's in me and hiding it," she said, stirring her food, "Honestly, I'm shocked at how much it hurt."

"That's not what I saw," he said in a shaky voice, "She entered my mind. Complete control. Like a knife stabbing into each memory, or actually, a proboscis, sucking out who I was."

His face drained of color, and he continued, "I thought I was going to die."

Sarea reached across the table and took his hand, "You're ok."

"I don't think I am," he said, shaking his head, "Or that we are. I don't think I can do that again, or do it to someone else."

Sarea let go of his hand and steeled her gaze. "Don't go whining now, Lucas. You aren't being raped over and over again. I need you to get through this, or I won't get through this. After all, you're why I'm here."

"You don't understand," he said, "It's worse than rape, worse than anything, to watch someone wade through your mind."

Sarea scoffed. "I don't think you understand, Lucas. We play ball or we die. Eat, take a deep breath or two, and get your mind right."

Lucas leveled his eyes to her, anger roiling in them.

"There's a little life left in you, then," Sarea said with a steel edge, "Eat."

A tense silence fell on the table. In the dull din of the cafeteria, the silence seemed loud. Sarea looked at the other tables. Why wasn't the mood somber? Was everyone else here voluntarily? Sarea nibbled at her food, full enough and afraid of overeating. She squirmed occasionally in her chair, self-conscious of her skinsuit and how much she was on display. To take her mind off of it, she tried talking again.

"Is your name really Lucas?" she asked quietly.

Lucas froze again. "Yes, it is," he said.

"Have you always been this bad of a liar, or did that infiltration rattle you that badly?"

"Not lying," he said, though his eyes took on a pleading look, "Besides, I don't want to talk about my past in here." Lucas looked up at the visible cameras in the corners.

Sarea pursed her lips and nodded. Cameras hadn't needed to be that big for decades, so these must have been reminders. Even still, Lucas was right. They were probably listening. The two finished their lunch in silence, left their plates at the bus station, and prepared themselves. Antoine appeared at the doorway to the cafeteria after an hour had passed and collected them. He wore a much grander chain than Sarea and dressed in a neat suit. He led them away from Terese's office. Sarea cast a quizzical glance at Lucas, who could only grimace. Instead of Terese's office, they went deeper into the center of the building, down a path Sarea had never been through. The room they entered made her mouth go dry. Rooms filled with people in various states of pleasure and pain lined the walls. Observers watched from leather couches or stood at the windows, taking notes, considering what was being said into their headphones. A public bonding space? A pit opened in Sarea's stomach.

Did her humiliation need an audience? Apparently.

Terese waited for them just inside. She leaned casually against the wall, her eyes glowing in communication. She mumbled something, and they winked back to normal, then she turned to Lucas and Sarea.

"Hello, darlings. I hope you've both had time to recover and prepare. I'm terribly sorry for the ordeal this morning, but such lessons must be taught with force," Terese said.

She took Lucas's hand in hers and led him to the bonding room they'd be using. She paid no mind to the other people in the area, most too preoccupied with observing their own trainees. The room's dim lighting helped. Soft music, a simple beat with chords, played overhead. If it weren't for the fucking rape and forced drug use, Sarea might have liked to have a drink in a bar with this vibe.

The bonding room was much like the one from last night. The fridge hummed quietly, filled with vials and inhalers. The same accoutrements hung on the wall and laid on the counter. The massage bed, vinyl covered, smelled recently cleaned.

Terese closed the door. Her eyes lit briefly, and she said, "Both of you have a seat on the bed."

Sarea and Lucas complied. Sarea had been careful to keep at least a few feet between her and Lucas due to the bond's uncontrolled effects. This close, it was like sitting by a warm fire, her mind and body warming to his presence. It also allowed a better glimpse of him in her mind. His presence in her mind trembled and shimmered, fragile as a pane of glass. Sarea put a steadying hand on Lucas's back. She needed him to be strong long enough for her to escape.

"Over lunch, I finished compiling your dossiers-" Terese began.

"Can we see them?" Sarea interrupted.

Terese sighed, then continued as if she hadn't heard her, "And we have some idea of what your roles and expertise might be."

Terese approached and put a hand on Lucas's shoulder, "Lucas, we see dominance and aggression in spades. Until this morning, we also saw fortitude. I question that now given how quickly you capitulated to infiltration."

Lucas couldn't meet her eyes.

Terese turned to Sarea, "In you, we see cunning, fortitude, a streak of submissiveness. We-"

"Submissiveness?" Sarea cried. "Fire your analysts."

Terese smirked. "We will count that as your first offense in training later. Our analysts are rarely wrong, though it's true we don't have a complete picture of you yet."

Terese leaned close to Sarea, her sweet breath dancing on her face, "Are you being honest with yourself, honey? We'll find out soon enough."

Sarea wanted to reach out and grab Terese by the throat. She envisioned it, how easy it would be, her arm actuators would whir, Terese's eyes would go wide as saucers, then she'd bleed.

Instead, she squeezed her thigh so hard she thought she might have left a bruise. Submissive? Sarea thought. Fat fucking chance. Terese's comment stung, though. Was she being honest with herself? How would they even know?

Terese laughed. "Today, and for the next week or so, you will try the different variants of Disiac. This is for two reasons: one, to find out if we were right with your roles. Two, to make sure you understand how to defend and control yourself when on either end of this type of disiac."

Sarea raised her hand. Terese chucked again, high and lilting.

"This isn't school, Sarea, but I appreciate that you've learned to be silent. Yes?"

"What are," Sarea said, voicing a concern she had, "Gold and Black for?"

"You must have been the student who had to ask before the teacher finished explaining," Terese chided, "Gold is for control, dominance. Black is for compulsion, submission. Today, Lucas will dominate you, and you will submit. I can see by the look on your face you do not like this arrangement, but we must endeavor to endure the things we cannot change. We have made this dose particularly strong. It will have...interesting effects."

"This is bullshit," Sarea said, her voice cracking lightly.

"More insolence. I am taking notes. Any other questions?" Terese said.

"What if I say no?" Lucas said with very little force behind it.

"No to what?" Terese asked coyly.

"To all of this. To end it now," Lucas said, his voice smaller and smaller.

"We're past that point, dear. Is death preferable to drug-enhanced sex? Really, you both mope like children. There are worse things than this, death among them. Chin up, or should I call Antoine back?" Terese said.

"No," Sarea said before Lucas could crumple, "We'll do it."

"Good girl," Terese said, putting a finger underneath Sarea's chin to bring her eyes up to her, "Inhalants have a short half life, eight to twelve hours at most, so today will be a brief experiment. Lucas, you will learn to give commands orally and to compel mentally. Sarea, you will learn to behave, and you will learn what it takes to misbehave. Do we understand each other?"

Sarea nodded. She followed Terese's eyes to Lucas, who had set his chin and looked ready to misbehave himself. His eyes darted to Sarea, who gave him a cautious look when he finally nodded.

"Good!" Terese cried, her eyes alighting blue. She produced two small electrodes and held them toward the couple in her hand, "I'm recording our session. Attach these to your temples, please, and inhale everything."

After they attached the electrodes, Terese stepped back into the corner of the room and took a seat. Sarea put a hand on Lucas to indicate he should stay seated. Through the bond, she knew he was barely holding on. Sarea rose and collected the inhalers from the workbench. She brought them both back, handing the gold one to Lucas.

Sarea took a deep breath to dampen her fear. If they were to get through this, they'd need to rely on each other. Lucas fiddled with his inhaler, opening it. Sarea took his hand in hers, causing him to look up at her.

"We can do this," she said, clinking her inhaler against his, "Cheers."

It had the desired effect. A smile broke out on Lucas's face. The bond firmed with resolve. A knot of resentment curdled in her stomach, but she suppressed it quickly. No matter her feelings toward the man or this situation, she needed him to be strong. She put the inhaler to her mouth as he did. With one last look at him, she compressed it, inhaling deeply.

The world seemed to shift.

When Sarea had first gotten modified, the bonesaw who did it offered her drugs to help with the anxiety and pain. She had declined initially, scared of what losing control of her mind might do to her. Quickly, though, she begged for help, and he-bonesaws always seemed to be men-gave it to her. Ativan, benzos, drugs that eased even the worst fears and panic. That moment opened a door for her, one she stepped through frequently in the subsequent years. Ecstasy, acid, cocaine, speed. She'd tried it all.

Disiac was better than all of them.

The aerosolized drug tasted sweet as she breathed it deep. Immediately, a small ingot of warmth grew in her chest. It trickled down her veins and into her arms, legs, and eventually, her mind. Her body glowed with ecstasy. Before she could stop herself, a small smile appeared on her lips. Her eyes watered. Her breathing slowed. With each thud of her heart, she rose higher and higher. She wasn't even in the room anymore. She was in a great, bright void, and ecstasy rolled through her in soft waves. Then she saw it. The bond was changing.

In her mind, Lucas towered over her. It grew and grew, engulfing. It surrounded her thoughts, corralled her mind so that no matter which way she thought, her thoughts ran into him. More than that, the bond, normally opaque and vague, clarified. His will and whims became manifest in her mind. Each came with a need, a desire inside her. Logically, she knew these weren't her needs, but it didn't matter. Thoughts never needed to make sense, they just had to feel real, and these felt like hers.

If it weren't for the disiac pulsing in her veins, fear would have overtaken her. If this is what a low level inhalant could do, it was easy to imagine how powerful this would be in the right, or wrong, hands. Her breathing quickened. Instinctively, her posture changed, giving deference to the man who just seconds before was at the point of collapse. It was as though he was a predator and she the prey, a servant waiting for orders. Terese chuckled at the sight of it.

"I see it's already having the desired effects."

Sarea had never been more scared.

Chapter 24: Unfiltered

Lucas had never felt so powerful. He inhaled every last bit, knowing Terese would know if he didn't. It had a licorice-like flavor and a head rush that threatened to topple him. He steadied himself as the drugs roared into his system. Disiac was also a vasodilator, and Lucas felt his entire body loosen and relax. A small sense of euphoria drifted through him, tingling through his nervous system and into his fingertips.