The Dead World Ch. 12

Her thick thighs were held by the delicate hands of Starling, who took immense pleasure in coaxing each lascivious moan and eager croon of pleasure from her Superior's lips, paying no mind at all to Alpha who would have surely been lying to say he took no small interest in the moment. He wouldn't rush his plea, having once disrupted her pleasure as it was, but instead allowed his cool gray gaze to rise and watch with lustful delight as Starling reveled in her glorious position of service to the powerful woman.

Viper had shifted up onto her elbows, her eyes like honey shifting across the way to meet the steely grey gaze of her once-lover. His eyes drank in every inch of her beautifully athletic physique, from her crown of thick, long ebony braids to her impressively full chest, beautiful globes with firm nipples like Hershey kisses. Her skin was deep and rich, like fine cocoa, her complexion flawlessly smooth if not for the littering of darker scars over her shoulders, her arms and neck... healed bite marks. His eyes swept the tone of her arms, the ripples of muscles along her abdomen, down to golden-haired Starling who's talented ministrations had crescendoed Viper's beautifully dark voice to unrestrained highs.

God, he loved her moans. He would have given anything to have taken Starling's place right then, to feel Viper's gloriously thick thighs lock around his head as he guided her to orgasm on his tongue. For now, the pleasure of bearing witness would have to be enough. His heart rate had risen, a growing bulge painfully restricted by thick denim and duty, and he did not rise... he would not. Not until she permitted so.

Viper watched him through half-lidded eyes glowing in delight as she felt the rushing waves of absolute satisfaction rise and consume her, and collapsed upon the lush sheets. Starling drew away with trained obedience, forsaking her own painfully erotic state of lust as she rose to stand, moving across the spacious room still just as bare as ever to the walk-in closet to fetch a black robe of silk for her mistress. She waited obediently for Viper's direction as the woman stretched her long, lithe arms above her head, and shifted her dark braids above her, not yet moving as she relished the afterglow of orgasm.

"Alpha... to what do I owe the pleasure, love?" Her voice was a deeper alto with a posh twist of an accent, suggesting she was not born upon American soil... she hadn't been. Viper was born in London, and traveled aboard well before she settled here in the states. Her father was American and her mother from Trinidad, and they met in London while he was deployed and she, working on her Master's at University. Her father was precisely why she was here instead of back home when the entire world collapsed in on itself and went to utter shit. He knew her story too well... better than anyone, he might even boast.

"My Queen. I apologize for the interruption," he began, and set his mind to focus, to drag himself down from the high of the unlawfully sexy display that he had all but stumbled upon. She motioned for him to stand with a lazy shift of a hand, and slowly came to sit upon the bed herself, extending her arms for Starling to gently wind the robe around her stunning body before tying it at her front. Viper gestured her dismissal, and with a delicate bow, Starling made herself scarce.

"...I knew you wouldn't have come if it wasn't important. So tell me what you need."

"Scout is dead." It was a harsh way to begin. He watched the playful mirth drain from her face, her neatly groomed dark brows knitting hard together as she turned her head, that beautifully kissable full mouth hardening to a scowl.

"What do you mean?"

"A little more than a week ago we laid him to rest at sea. What was left of him. He was out with Bravo Team, his first mission. They ran off course at Cambridge's direction and encountered hostile outsiders... outsiders I believe are still in the area." He drew the folded paperwork from his back pocket as Viper neared him, and all but snatched the folded report from his hands, her expression of displeasure growing.

"I wasn't informed. Why?"

"I spoke to Sir. He said the matter was no longer urgent after I first petitioned for an extraction for survivors. We recovered Denver, who died on the surgery table not long after we returned... but there have been no signs of hostility since and no reports from the settlements and so he--"

"Who gave Sir the authority to dictate which matters are urgent and which aren't? The last I recalled matters like this go directly through War. The last I recalled War is the militia General, not Sir. Do I have to oversee every bloody fucking detail? What's the purpose of a council if I have to coddle these mindless wankers?"

Her tone had gone cold as ice, and she all but rounded on him, clearly furious. Alpha turned his eyes down, and fell silent, and drew a slow and concentrated breath. Oh, she would wage fresh hell over it... and it would only give him a negative point of view, but he hardly cared in the moment. It was sudden, her arms curling around his neck and drawing him in close to her, forcing him to bring his head to her shoulder. At six feet and two inches, Alpha was an impressive height for a male specimen, but Viper was not at all far off from him... an Amazonian goddess if he had ever known one.

"Oh, Scout... that foolish boy. I'm sorry, love, I really am... we'll find you another, hm?"

It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he knew she meant well. It was far more difficult for Viper to make meaningful connections with anyone after what all she had gone through to get to where she was, now, and no small act of a miracle that she was even alive... but replacing the teenager he had raised as a son was not at all possible. Still... he brought his strong arms around her, and rested his head upon her shoulder with utter obedience.

"What is it you need from me?" Her quiet question came absolute, her long, delicate fingers sweeping through the neat coils of his locks as she drew back, and met his gray eyes... eyes darkened with anger, and malice, and a fury she had not seen in years... not since the purge of the first Hunters.

"Vengeance." Her smile had widened, and she felt a certain flutter of dark ecstasy with such violent words on her pair's lips. Her fingers locked together at the back of his neck as he continued on, all but delighted by seeing this usually docile man made new by bloodlust for revenge. "I'll hunt the outsiders beyond our territory alone, if I have to... but I want them dead, Viper."

"Then you'll have it." She wanted terribly to kiss him... but they both knew well by now, if she were to do so, it would mean to kill him.

And so instead, she cupped his face between her hands, and leaned forward with the same vicious hatred glowing in her eyes and a smile like hell upon her full mouth, resting her forehead to his. "They will die screaming in the Pit, for the pain they've caused. Go on, then. Wake those fucking useless gits, all of them--even Ghost... inform them their Superior demands a meeting immediately."

----------

She couldn't hear the ocean anymore.

It had gotten uncomfortably cold too, and as she stirred to a hazy consciousness, it didn't take long at all to realize she was all but entirely naked, not for the small black sports bra and bikini cut underwear. Charlie shivered, and groaned, wanting to reach for the blankets and wondering with much confusion where Dog had gone to... and as her eyes slowly opened to the dark room, she tried to bring her hands to her face, and felt a very sudden and sharp resistance that cut into the tender skin of her slim wrists.

She sucked in a sharp hiss of breath, blinking several times as she tried to shake what felt to be utter grogginess and fatigue... but it didn't seem to do much. She felt a rather disturbing sense of calm at realizing that metal cuffs were holding her arms above her head, attached to the thick wooden bars of the hotel bed headboard, and as she tried to make out something--anything in the darkness--she quickly realized she had horribly lost track of time. She had dozed off near Dog in perhaps the only relative comfort she had felt since reawakening from her near death experience after infection... and now?

Now it appeared she was handcuffed to a fucking bed, and very much disoriented in a way she realized was not at all normal. Everything seemed foggy from her pattern of thoughts, to the way the shadows danced over the barren walls of a room most certainly not her's... not the one she had claimed prior to the one she and Dog had relocated her effects to.

She felt a dull panic start to grip her as she twisted her wrists weakly, and struggled to move to sit with her hands bound above her head, trying to make out something that might help her in the moment... and then she heard something from the hall. The locks of the door slowly began to turn, her shallow, panicked breaths rising as she felt fear slowly seeping into her bones and muscles.

She shut her eyes and fell still and prayed in silence that her worst fears had not become reality, and as she heard the shifting of boots, and the door slam. She all but held her breath as the dim overhead light illuminated the room--one and the same of the one Dog had been held in when they were first brought back to the resort after their final escape attempt.

"You know... if you ever fucking obeyed me, things would be a lot better for you... and her."

The cool, indifferent murmur of Colton Callaghan's distinctively deep voice was unmistakable even under the haze of what she very well believed now was some horrible intoxicant. Slash had done something to the herbs she'd traded him, that was her first thought... but she came to quickly realize that she had burned them already twice to no ill effect. No. The sluggish, almost sedative-like feeling she was currently experiencing was something far more sinister--this was Skully's doing through and through. She feigned sleep, trying to even her breathing as she felt every nerve ending singing of danger, terror, and guilt.

She heard a heavy chair being dragged across the carpeted floor and dropped unceremoniously at the end of the bed.

"Here you go, kid. This is what you wanted, right? I was honestly so disappointed to hear after everything you hadn't fucked the little bitch, yet, you know that? So here's your chance. You've been a real pain in the ass since we came across her--you don't deserve it... but hey... if you weren't such a hard-headed little shit, she'd be dead... and I'd be bored."

Charlie's heart rate seemed to sky rocket, and feigning sleep seemed far more comforting in what she felt was a very real nightmare made real. She wished she hadn't woken up. To be honest, she wasn't even certain if she was meant to be awake at that moment... there was silence for a long few moments as she listened to the slow shifting of the two men in the room, and felt the bed shift ever so gently as Skully kicked his booted feet up at the end of the bedpost.

"Well? What's wrong, Danny? ...you know what to do, don't you? It's not fuckin' rocket science kid..." The harsh, almost amused tone Skully had taken was met with silence from the mute younger man, who couldn't deny his utter anxiety and anger in the moment, "...do you need a demonstration?"

Before Skully even moved she was certain she could feel the teenager's response... infuriated defiance. The way the chair was shifted back, and the sound of the hammer pulled back on that very large very fucking intimidating gun was one that had haunted her for days when she found herself staring down that barrel. Charlie's eyes shot open at that, and she pulled harshly against the cuffs, focusing her blurry eyes upon the two men now standing at the end of the bed. Skully nudged the end of the desert eagle roughly against Dog's temple, who glared at him with a look of hatred that was meant to kill.

"Do it. Or I'm to cuff you to the fucking bed too and make you watch while I fuck her."

"Danny..." Her fearful plea came quietly, causing both sets of eyes to drop down to her, the look of absolute terror in her eyes enough to cause Dog's vicious gaze to soften. He swallowed hard. He wasn't afraid of Skully, or dying, no... but he was afraid of what the older man would do to the pretty thing he had cuffed to the bed afterwards. "...it-it's okay..."

Skully couldn't help but to laugh in the moment, slowly dropping the weapon down from Dog's head as he acknowledged the nearly nude, petite thing that was Charlotte was very much awake, and horrified in the moment.

"Aw, Dove, you're not supposed to be awake to chime in. You're ruining my fun... but since you're up early... I think Danny boy needs a little fuckin' encouragement, don't you?" He dropped the loaded gun down into its holster as he moved around the side of the bed, producing the key and uncuffing only one of her hands from the bedpost. Her heart thumped desperately in her chest, wanting very much to be anywhere but here in this moment, her gaze shifting to Dog before shooting to the door, and back again in a frantic signal, only for the low, dark chuckle from his villainous fucking mentor to interrupt her thought in its path.

"Mm-mmn... none of that, sweetheart. He knows what'll happen if he does that. You'll be dead before he'd ever make it to Oz, and he doesn't want that. I'm sure you don't, either. Be a good girl, Charlotte... fuck, you should be fuckin' grateful and begging to be fucked by any one in this group for everything we've done to keep your troublesome ass alive."

Even in the dim lit room, she didn't need her eyes to know where this was going. The sinking feeling of being utterly trapped and humiliated was indescribable, and it was everything she had not to adopt the seering look of utter hatred that Dog himself had not yet abandoned as Skully moved to undo his belt, and nodded to Charlie with lazy direction. "Don't tell me you need training wheels too, Charlie. You've got a hand free. Use it."

He'd pulled the gun out once already... she wasn't trying to tempt him to draw it again. Her soft brown eyes were still glassy and unfocused from the sedative syringe he'd slipped into her arm around dusk, taken from the safezone, and with begrudging reluctance she aided in tugging free the button and zipper of the dark haired man's jeans and drew them down with a rough tug, glaring up at the cocky smirk that had curled over his lips. "Use those pretty lips, too."

The soft tinge of pink forming over her pretty face was accompanied by a bitter glance upwards as Skully moved to rest on his knees, a hand curling in her messy dark hair as he pressed her head forcefully down, her slender digits drawing his thick, half-hard manhood from the depths of his boxer shorts. Her face flushed deeper still when she felt the thick tip of that impressive length against her plump bottom lip, the thought to protest for the sheer girth of him interrupted by impatience. He pressed harder, forcing the head of his cock between those pretty pink lips, and Charlie shut her eyes to block out what she could only describe as sheer humiliating embarrassment.

Dog hadn't let his eyes leave the older male, certainly deep in the darkest fantasies of choking the fucking life out of him. He felt panicked... but far worse than that was the feeling of utter helplessness in the moment. How had he been so fucking foolish to let Skully catch them together? It was well into sundown when he awoke to find Charlie was no longer beside him... and the moment he had stepped out into the hall, both Skully and Slash were upon him, faster than he had a chance to explain. No, Skully had it in his head already, well before now that he no longer gave a damn what anyone had to say if it didn't suit his agenda...

He'd have gladly taken the ass whooping alone for it. He didn't pay any mind to the bruises and prangs of pain earned from the earlier assault... but here they were, now, the two most important people in his world now together in perhaps the single most fucked up moment of his adult life. He wanted to tear his eyes away... but he couldn't. And already he had made a very solid promise to himself that before they escaped from here, he was going to fucking murder the man he had known as a brother--a father... if it was the last thing he fucking did.

Charlie whimpered in protest, her slim fingers closing around the base of Skully's length as he pressed the thickness to the limits of her small mouth, nestled against the back of her throat. The feeling was invasive, and foreign, but she hadn't really taken much of him in... even still, the low, satisfied groan that escaped his lips was unfairly erotic, even when pitted against the sheer hatred she felt for this man. He could have thrust himself down into her throat and she'd have had little choice but to gag and deal with it... but he hadn't. Not yet, at least.

"Watch those fucking teeth, Dove--I want your lips, and tongue... if you bite me, I'm going to fuck you up."

The warning forced her to struggle to relax her jaw, her tongue rising against the underside of his shaft desperate to draw attention from the fact that she was trying her hardest not to bite. She rather enjoyed having her teeth in her mouth. He bucked against the motion, and with desperation the slender digits locked around the base of him slowly stroked upwards toward her lips struggling to hold the unfairly well hung length of him between them before gliding back down.

She dared to draw her head back, fighting against the pressure of his fingers roughly coiled amongst dark curls at the back of her head, and to appease him she suckled hard and felt him let up. His cock slipped from her lips with a soft pop at the release of that suction, and she drew in a deep breath, and shook her head anxiously, stroking her fingers down the length of up coating the throbbing length with her saliva.

"It's too big--"

"Make it work." He pressed his cock between her lips again roughly against her muffled protest, a devious moan escaping his lips as he watched her struggle, her eyes pleading as he teased the back of her throat again, and she sucked obediently to try and stave off the threat. Her head bobbed slowly, tears beading at her eyes as she tried her best to appease their unhinged second-in-command, all the while feeling her own unfair arousal in the moment... oh, but Skully had certainly noticed. He dropped a hand down to grasp one of those beautifully full breasts, almost unfittingly plump and plush for her petite frame, pressing down the thin fabric of her sports bra to tease against those firm, soft brown nipples before straying across to the other.

"I'm sure you've got the fuckin' idea now, don't you Dog? I'm sure you've wanted to fuck her so badly... and I'm sure by now she love for you to do it, wouldn't you, little Dove?"

Not like this... The thought was a desperate echo inside of her mind, and it repeated again, and again, and again. He grasped her hair and pulled his dick from between her lips, pinching one of those tender round nubs roughly. "Wouldn't you?"

"Y-yes!" The panicked answer was blurted out without thought or certainty, out of sheer desperation as those pickles of pain were balanced out by an unfair twist of pleasure. It wasn't a choice, to struggle and endure or beg to be fucked, but the thought of pissing off Skully was far worse than giving him what he wanted. Her eyes shot to Dog, who met her gaze with prickles of irate discomfort, and she could only feel a twist of sinking guilt. She should have never trusted Slash, no... they should have gone to Oz right away, and perhaps they wouldn't be in this position at all. "Danny... it's alright... it's going to be okay--"