The Dead World Ch. 13

"Four to two. You're stepping the fuck down, or packing it the fuck up and heading out solo, tonight."

"You're not in your right mind, brother."

"And you're so fucking sound that one pretty stray is worth my fucking life? You're no fucking better than I am Oz. Everybody can see that, now," Skully sneered far too cheerfully, turning his eyes to the men gathered. "I'm taking Lead, as Second-in-Command. Slash will fill the role of Second. Any objections?"

They were still, and he crossed his arms smugly as he moved to snatch the thick winter coat he'd hung over the place he had seated earlier, pressing the material between his still bleeding palms before catching a bit of blood from his temple where the older of them had hit him with the hilt of the sword.

"Didn't fuckin' think so."

The tension hadn't faded away at all, as all eyes turned to Skully, who had moved to the front of the room. Diablo had made to check the heavy cut Oz retained, who had removed the dark, hunter green button down, and swiped the blood from the reddened slash etched from shoulder to rib cage, his anger in the moment still apparent on his gaunt face. Slash gestured him to surrender the sheath of the long sword, and he did so with no resistance, watching as the dangerous weapon was returned to the black leather sheath and handed off to the younger Callaghan.

"You were seriously ready to fucking kill me over an outsider... tch. I think a fucking attempt on a life definitely deserves Judgment. So you can sit in your fucking room without food until we leave here, Oz. Hand over the rest of your weapons."

He didn't go against the statement, and by those rights, there was no need to call for a vote. Ruthless and Diablo looked on with anxious nervousness as Oz relieved himself of his sidearm, and his hunting knife. Dog's gaze had hardened, settled on Skully with a newfound sense of agitation... he couldn't ignore the fact that he wouldn't have been at all unhappy if Oz had been successful in running him through moments ago. Oz had won the fight by all rights, but at the cost of being the only solid voice of reason among them... and now? He knew what would come next, and he felt his anxiety slowly shifting to malice as he looked on from the dark arm chair he had perched in at the corner.

"...As for the contract, like I said, I think it's more than earned by now. Those in favor?"

There was hesitation among them... expected hesitation. Ruthless uttered something quite bitterly in his native tongue, shaking his head quite definitely at that point, a clear sign that he would have no part of the arrangement. But quite expectedly, Slash raised a set of fingers, shooting Diablo a knowing glance. The medic drew in a heavy breath, and brought his hand up briefly, not at all wanting to go against the younger Callaghan... not now. He didn't agree with it for a moment but the thought of being the next one to brawl with the violent fucker was more than enough to dissuade him from going against it.

"Dog?"

The teenager bristled, his hazel eyes a cold and unforgiving leer as Skully called upon him. He wanted to decline, he desperately wanted to flick the fucker off and deal with the consequences later... but after the night before? He knew better. He knew he'd just come up with a new and creative way to torture Charlie for his insolence. He knew, just as well as anyone, that Skully in a position of power was no longer one to be crossed or trifled with. He raised a set of fingers in rushed confirmation before crossing his arms firmly over his chest, the prang of disgust causing him to roll his eyes and huff angrily from his place among them. Eyes passed to Oz, who shook his head just as Ruthless had.

"I'll have no part in it."

"Four to two. It's settled then." Skully shrugged breezily, turning his head to spit a fresh mouthful of blood unceremoniously to the waste bin aside the registration desk.

"Charlie should be here... she should get to vote on it." Diablo's quiet, conflicted statement came with a frown.

"I'm sure we already know what she'd have to say about it... but all the same, it's Judgement--a contract, not fuckin' enslavement. It'll have a start and an end. She's got a choice to take it or head out, same as any one of us in that position. When she shows, we'll run it by her, simple as that." Skully drew the bandanna up, and pushed away from the reception desk, slinging the strap of the longsword over a shoulder as he stalked off toward the east wing for the stairwell. "Dismissed. We'll regroup tomorrow on the plans moving forward. Humvee or no... we'll be back on the road before we move into December, and before our new fuckin' friends realize we're still around."

----------

Through the small space she had forced from the sealed balcony door, she watched the reflection of the sun sinking to the west behind the resort with a heavy sigh, dusky twilight settling over the sparkling sea.

The thought of being cast into total darkness through the night was not a fond one. Shadows had already begun to dance rather wickedly over the room in the fading daylight--one she knew she didn't have to stay in any longer, but hesitated to leave. Without being handcuffed to the bed there wasn't anything but the thought of punishment keeping her here, and so she did as Slash suggested, and stayed where she was not wanting to provoke any further retaliation.

The locks began to turn, and just beyond stood the mechanic, who looked endlessly pleased over something or another. Or it was just his nature. She rarely saw him without that cool, smug fucking grin pulled on his lips. In his hand was a high powered flashlight that he shined none too kindly over the captive woman's pretty face, who squinted and raised an arm to shield her eyes with annoyance. As the light left her face, he gestured for her to follow.

"Elevator don't come so far up. Ya can handle the stairs? Or am I gonna have to carry ya down, princess?"

"I live here. I already know... and don't fuckin' touch me, or I'll bite off your fingers..." Charlie grumbled, her slender digits tugging the edge of the shirt down anxiously, which did little to shield her slim, toned legs and firm peach of an ass from view as she moved out of the room into the dark hall. Slash adjusted the beam of light off toward the end of the hall toward the stairwell and as she started down a sudden, heavy thump from one of the rooms as they passed caused her to jump.

"Few o' 'em stumbling around trapped up here... only a couple, though. I seen the ballroom shit show you were talkin' about when we first got here... right fuckin' savages whoever set that up. Keep movin'."

"Where are we going?"

"Skully said put ya back in yer room and feed ya. Crazy fuckin' evenin' it's been, so far... guess ya should be happy he ain't feelin' up ta bein' yer escort."

"Lucky me." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes.

They were on the twentieth floor... sixteen flights of stairs down was no easy feat, but Charlie was in no rush down them. Still, somewhere along the fourth or fifth story down Slash had lifted her up far too easily and swung her over his shoulder, despite her ample protests and violent kicking. He slapped her nearly bare ass, hard, and promised another if she kept kicking and shouting the way she was, and she fell still with an adorably irritated pout upon her lips. He cleared the remaining levels, perhaps double their earlier speed even with Charlie over his shoulder. When they made the landing of the fourth floor she wriggled and squirmed almost violently in order to drop down to her feet, shoving the heavy metal door unceremoniously, her bare soles comforted by the velvety carpeting of the familiar floor.

Slash had trailed along after her, admiring the sway of her hips, the way her long hair swept down her back. She might have thought that to be the end of things, heading to the very end of the soft lit hall and pushing the slightly ajar door open with tired irritation, ignoring the dull remnant sting from the earlier slap to her right asscheek, but before she could push the door open in full Slash had reached out to shut it abruptly. She scowled. He grasped her wrists, and turned her to face him, pressing her slight form against the solid wood in a way that no longer elicited the reaction of fear, or panic... no. She only glared up at him with pointed indifference now, her full lips a luscious pout.

"You don't have to bring me anything... I just want to sleep, alright? So fuck off."

"What's your rush, lil' shit? No thank you or anythin'? I could've left you up there alone all day starvin' and cuffed to the bed..." His attention had moved down to her wrists, the shallow cuts smoothed over already beneath his rough fingertips... the red rings around them were barely visible. She twisted her hands out of his grasp impatiently, but his eyes narrowed, raising up to her face. "You were bleedin' earlier, weren't you? How the fuck are ya on the mend, already?"

She had barely seemed to notice.

She only seemed irritated that he was keeping her from her solitude, something she realized she desired far more than the company of others even after being isolated for so long, and she all but whined when he attempted to take her hands again to examine the now smooth skin that should be raw and red and still open. It looked as if it had skipped a step entirely, right over scabbing and straight to new scar tissue. Curiosity had gotten the better of him in full, and he moved to push the collar of her shirt aside to check the small exit point where the knife had pierced through her shoulder, finding the skin there as well was smooth and the four point star shape already silver, as if the scar had been there for years now. It earned him a rough shove from the dainty woman in retaliation.

"Fuck off, Slash." He chuckled low, and pushed back, all but slamming her into the door as he grasped her chin and tilted her head up to him, that deviant grin spreading over his mouth.

"Or what?"

She groaned. She hated this fucking game more than any other this man played--the taunting game.

Her eyes hardened, her annoyance building to pure irritation... and she felt those familiar prangs of anxiety as his thumb teased her bottom lip, pale green eyes bearing down into her defiant mocha gaze. She pressed her palms against his chest to fight him for space, and without warning he reached for the door handle before coiling a strong arm around her waist to keep her from falling back with how desperately she pressed to be free from him. It dawned on her sharply as he walked her back, and into the room, kicking the door closed as he did so.

"...I owe you a day." Fuck. She all but whispered the realization, piecing together the moments of seemingly random kindness from earlier with bristling irritation, "I knew you were after something, you fucking asshole."

"Clever girl."

"I'm not in the mood to deal with you tonight. So leave." They hadn't made it beyond the small foyer before he pressed her back against the wall there, taking her wrists to pin them aside her head as he eased a knee between her thighs and felt her body tense, her skin blossoming with tense horripilation beneath his lips as they teased the curve of her slender neck. The curtains from the balcony left ajar billowing in as the chilled winter wind picked up, and the sound of rain began to fall in heavy droplets upon the metal wrap around balcony of the new suite. His focus wasn't on any of that though... just the sweet smell of her skin, and the way she shifted nervously beneath him.

"Nah... I don't think I will, Dove."

"Don't. Fucking. Call me that!" She had felt the growing bulge through the thick material of his military fatigues, and brought her knee up roughly into his groin, twisting her wrists viciously between his hands as she caught him off guard. The impulsive bout of anger had done her no favors. He chuckled lowly once the pain of the sudden defensive maneuver had eased, tightening his grasp on the struggling woman's wrists, and all but dragging her into the room toward the bed.

"I got somethin' for yer naughty lil' ass--" He tossed her down, delighting in the look of absolute fury as he flipped the thick comforter almost playfully overtop her, undoing his belt and tugging it free of the loops of his pants as she fought to toss the material off. And then he sat, gathering the struggling woman's wrists despite her aggression and anger, and pulled her over his lap, bringing the thick leather band down harshly over her ass. The snap reverberated into the quiet of the room.

She flinched, and yelped, cursing him sharply as the belt was brought down once again hard over those plump, beautifully toned cheeks, and again.

"You fucking dickhead!--SSS!--OUCH!--LET FUCKING GO!--" He had grasped her wrists with his free hand, holding the trashing brunette with deviant amusement as he struck her again. He hadn't meant to hurt her, no, but he did very much enjoy watching redness rise over her golden skin and her tense, jerking reaction as the sting followed each well aimed snap of the belt strap against her backside.

Her cheeks flushed, the twinge of deep red brightening her heart shaped face. He swatted her ass again, and again she flinched, and gritted her teeth before slowly easing her frantic attempts to break free. The next strike of the belt was not so heavy handed. Her heavy breaths slowed, stalling as he struck her once again, the simmering expression of displeasure disrupted by the unexpected... a twist of eroticism. An almost forbidden pulse of pleasure. She gritted her teeth harder, and glared off to nowhere in particular, listening as the soft jingle of the belt buckle stilled.

"Ya gonna behave?"

"Fuck you." Swat. She sucked a breath through her teeth harshly as the sting caused her muscles to coil, this time the feel and clap of skin upon skin as he brought his hand down hard over her ass, and that pang of excitement intensified. She fought off the absolutely disgusting pulse of desire, and bit her bottom lip gently, exhaling a shuddered breath. Her unruly curls strewn over her pretty face as she fought the urge to struggle. He hadn't let her wrists go, not yet.

"We can do this all night Dove, or ya can behave and pay up, and be free to frolic this time tomorrow...." He grasped her ass roughly, palming those gloriously round cheeks as he teased her mercilessly, the warmth formed there from the impromptu spanking pleasant beneath his fingertips.

She was still now, and quiet, and at that Slash chuckled. He let her slender wrists free from his strong grasp, and for good measure, slapped her beautiful ass one final time for nothing more than the reaction of her tensing, shuddering, and the little sound she bit back. He squeezed one plump ass cheek, and then the other, before daring to let his fingers dip down against the warm wetness of her covered snatch with a laugh. "If I ain't know better, I swear yer enjoyin' it..."

"I hate you, I hope you know that--" She struggled from over his lap still clearly defiant, her face flushing deeper as she moved across to the balcony door, and pulled it closed to block out the sound of rain over the rolling tides and the cold pouring into the room. She set her attention to the central unit that controlled the temperature, turning the heat on, the sharp scent of coils burning after years of not being used prompting her to ease the balcony door back open, just a crack. Busy work. He had craned down to unlace his boots before shrugging free his outerwear, and pulling the tanktop overhead, discarding the articles of clothing to the floor unceremoniously.

"Yeah, yeah, I know... that ain't stopped ya from havin' a bit of fun yet, though. C'mere."

"I said no, what part of that don't you understand?"

"Ya want me ta keep spankin' yer ass all ya gotta do is ask, girlie... but I'm gonna get what I want." He rose to stand, and closed the distance between them before Charlie could think to dart away from him, pressing against her back and snaking an arm around to close those long, rough fingers against her throat. She tensed quite visibly, his free hand smoothing around the curve of her hip and beneath the thin bit of material of Dog's borrowed shirt, teasing against her navel before dipping down slowly against the elastic of her black panties.

"Stop." Her reluctance was half-hearted, of that Slash was certain, especially when his hand slipped down over the mound of her womanhood, teasing through the soft wiry hairs just beneath. Her breath stalled, and her hands had dropped down to his forearm, grasping the muscular limb that insisted on pushing on, his middle finger sliding down between plump outer lips to tease against her clitoris and delight over her slick wanting that had already begun to dampen her panties. "I-I said no."

"I heard... ya don't mean it. Woulda been throwin' a fuckin' fit by now if ya really did." Her fingernails bit into his skin as she squirmed and twisted around, forcing away his touch, but his fingers shifted down in that motion from her throat to the collar of the thin fabric of her shirt. In one swift and powerful motion, he tore the cotton shirt clear in two as Charlie struggled against him, the smug grin curled over his lips all the more prominent as he pinned her slim frame against the wall beside the heating unit and dipped his head to hungrily claim her plush mouth with his own.

Her hands had shot up, grasping his hair roughly in an attempt to free herself from the forceful kiss, only succeeding in tearing free the thin black band that held the long dusky blond locks up and out of his face. He had taken her wrists again, pressing them against the sides of her head, feeling her feisty resolve falter when his tongue teased between her lips and pressed her deeper into the throes of lust. Her cheeks were warm, burning red, and she struggled to keep her thighs locked together as he eased his knee between them roughly grinding against her damp panties. The sharp nip of her teeth against his bottom lip prompted him to break from the kiss, looking down to her through half-lidded eyes glowing in lazy amusement, his tongue swiping the bit of blood she had drawn with masochistic delight.

"So we're playin' rough tonight, huh? Alright." He wasted no time grasping her shoulder and turning her around, pushing her roughly against the wall before his hands dropped down. He drew a slim switchblade from the deep right pocket, wasting no time at all sheering the thin fabric of her panties away, watching the thin bits of cloth fall before kicking her legs apart again.

She pressed her hands against the smooth surface of the wall and pushed back against him, one of his hands shifting into her dark hair and ripping back sharply to cause her to hiss, and curse, her heartbeat a heavy pulsating thump in her own ears. She wanted to ignore the twisting essence of excitement, never having been in the position to head small prickles of pain or discomfort eliciting such an unfair physical reaction before. Her world before the virus had been blissfully, almost painfully vanilla, and she had always been happy with just that...

He wasn't wasting time, or feigning gentle tonight. The blade was shifted, the cool steel teasing against her skin as he made just as quick work of ridding her of her bra, mindful still not to cut her despite her half-hearted struggling. "I'm not playing anything--get the fuck--off!" As she put all her strength into shoving viciously back into him, it took very little for Slash to apply every bit of his weight and superior muscle mass to trapping her against the wall, pressing her cheek harshly against the solid surface before her, his lips teasing against a small, rounded ear. "I'm not goin' anywhere, Dove... keep it up, an' I'm really gonna punish ya."