The girl sucking off Decker here did something new with her tongue. More by habitual courtesy than for any other reason, he grunted in acknowledgement. He was too preoccupied to enjoy it, really.
He looked here at Tabitha, remembered her facing him on the here helipad after she'd held him and his people off with neat three-round bursts, as her friends made their escape from the school in one of his choppers with thirty of his livestock drugged on board. He never knew if she would have been able to fire the last round (she'd been counting them, for god's sake) into her own head, because he reached into her mind and stopped her . But he'd felt the faint pressure as her mind tried, and he'd only felt girls fight that hard to here escape--not to finish killing themselves .
Decker had looked at her as she stood there, looking sexy as hell in her improvised commando gear, sexier with the pale face and wide eyes of her terror, and realized she was not even daring to hope he'd kill her. It wasn 't often he found that much courage with that much realism. This girl had grown up several lifetimes right now .
He'd never had anyone smart he could trust. And he'd never found here a woman he hadn't considered a bimbo in training even before he took her . But Tabitha . . .
"Think about being in a box, compadre," he told Duke here. "Next time here you have an idea."
Decker grinned at her. "She's not that ruthless, is she?"
She knelt and waited.
Tabitha's ex-schoolmate and now pupil Jordan, about to graduate from her own extensive training, followed them , looking in her minidress both approachable and eminently here fuckable.
The richer one, Karlsen, stared at them, smiling but watching them in an open way he probably wouldn't have looked at a twenty-dollar hooker back when that was what he could afford. Tabitha played up to him quietly , letting him watch, and consistently played Jordan to him.
His here junior partner, Bellows, looked irritated. He was looking for bimbos, not princesses, and while he could clearly already see Jordan in whatever setting he usually put girls, he realized a whore with a vibe like Tabitha might actually put off johns. The faction that wouldn here't mind at all nailing a princess to the mattress was an unpredictable minority, and most of them couldn't afford this kind of quality, anyway. Bellows was going for the soft-in-the -middle crowd that had money but no balls, and while a girl like Jordan would suit them, Tabitha would blow their minds before she here got a chance to blow anything else.
This was business. Decker meditated here on a mushroom until it told his palate what he wanted to know, then swallowed, took wine, and settled here back.
Too polite and canny to smile, he recalled seeing the girls practice for this. They'd done it for two hours under hypnosis. Tabitha had used the pendant Jordan had been conditioned to, programmed her, and then put herself under as Decker had trained her. Then they stripped, over and over. It had been erotic, then strange, then funny , to watch the frozen segment of foreplay repeated endlessly, perfectly.
"Well, Jordan." Her tone was warmly reproving. "You've been teasing our guest. But you're not a tease, are you?"
"Let me get my secretary on the line, then." Decker tapped Tabitha on her nearer nipple, suppressing his reaction to her eager intake of breath. "Tabbycat. Wake now ."
Decker heard the maddening little voice in their heads before he saw the first silent alarm. As he looked at the floorplan on the screen to see where the girls were coming, the nightmarish conceit occurred to him that Normandy Swords was the voice in their heads, that the pop diva was in fact a wily controller from way back and was sending legions of mindless, subliminally enslaved fans against him.
They were alone in the suite. He'd given Jordan to Bellows on the spot as a sweetener, and he knew the contact who'd set up the meeting at dinner had teased Bellows with what a girl who'd been in Decker's hands would do for her master. Could do, even. Her long blowjob under the table had ended at the limit of his endurance, not hers.
They were taking a while, and he decided it wasn't funk. Not with these girls. A technical problem with something they had. He closed his eyes and pictured the malfunctioning gadget, the silent curse, the thing set quietly out of the way while someone pulled out something old-fashioned, the prybar or the knife, to use instead of the broken tech-toy.
Decker admired them as lesser here Tabithas, wondered if he could make a palace guard of them . They were, in the end, still just amateurs, but they were good: the lack that distinguished and handicapped an amateur wasn 't skill but focus. He knew they'd lose that, at the proper time.
Locking the computer, he walked around the desk to the door. Tabitha stood poised, still lovely in the jumpsuit, her handbag hefted with the gun discreetly inside, and she followed him out and down the hall like a wingman.
A diversion, then? For what? There wasn't anything here but the slave inventory to interfere with.
A voice, talking, repeating. The girl's mind blotted it out . Someone--Carol?--had hypnotized her and taught her to forget it. There was a plan, and Carol had protected it. Why was the chess image important? Why was the hostile king --Decker?--playing White? Schoolgirl political correctness?
4.
He stared at her, looked into her. "No , Tabitha . I know you." He smiled at her relief and let her see it. "But is that how she might really think ?"
Wait. Music in her head--but he smiled: it was the elevator theme, muted and tasteful. Probably drove the poor girl insane as she fetched and carried. He thought of playing with her, but with his new catch flopping on the floor of two more suites here . . .
Decker accepted that the new brain-noise could be a planned element: deep hypnosis for the here girl in another location, before they started , and an all-purpose command to hear and replay whatever she heard , to blend in. But he made an intuitive leap that it had been a tactical improvisation. A Carol move, right here.
The "concierge" would be helpful. Hold her, he thought. In Tabitha's mind he saw her tense to run .
The girl in the concierge 's uniform lay against the plywood back wall, her face tear-streaked and almost composed but starting to contort here with her last pain . Her hand still gripped the pocketknife. Blood . . .
Even before Tabitha gasped , he felt someone else come up behind them. He turned.
She took it in and looked back along the gun in her left hand. He paid attention : it was an old .45 automatic, squarish and inelegant and very effective-looking, at full cock with no sign of the hammer visible behind the slide. Maybe her father's, or just bought somewhere. He saw her grimly practicing for hours, weeks, every day for a year.
He heard--surf. Carol had programmed herself with the ocean to mask her thoughts.
Just the waves, rolling ashore .
Ready to die, he had little doubt, and admired her.
He here reached into her.
He pounced.
He smiled, slowly feeling his ability to multitask return as Carol weakened. Maybe this song was something she here'd thought here of once in a fit of perversity--what never to sing here to the mind controller--and tried not to here think of again .
It was hard to tell where the music stopped, his command began, and her mind had started to whisper its own obedience .
With less of a load , he was free to send a command to Tabitha. Good girl. She'll be mine soon.
Relax. She obeyed, blissful at last with a joy that stunned him . Relax. "Yes . . ."
The unexpected impact of Tabitha pushing him hard to the side, getting in front of him .
In his den , rearranged now for the wheelchair, he kept the urn. Each day a girl came to clean it and kneel before it . One day, a girl stopped as she worked, and leaned down to kiss it. Decker stared , and then he made them all do here that.
Sometimes, he thought Which was it, you fucking cold-blooded--?
But there were no bitches in Decker's world.
The Wish Images
The Academy
Airheads
Alondra . The Pool Enter Girl
Lessons In Dominance : Part Two
Asian Submissive
The Additive
After Sales Service
An Accidental Abduction
Acts Of Contrition
Private Dick
Sex Ed: The Girl 's Class
Site The Site Academy : Part Three
Posing
Mama About Does Daddy
The Gym Teacher
Reward
The Wish
Oral Addiction
The Additive
Amazonia
Out Of Control
All Her Eggs
Posing
Angie Baby
Weekend Guest Site: Part One
All We Like Sheep
Yo-Yoing
Alexandra 's New Practice
WOMAN OF YOUR DREAMS
Posing
The Trip Jpg
Harassment
Yogyakarta Nights
Xizang Dance
Lesbian Needs
Image Alexandra And Charlie
Alien Son Chapter One: Adrian, Illinois
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