Chapter 44 Nex #2
“She’s just the prototype. And she’s still inside there—while this controls her, it also produces a dampening field,” he said, stroking the box like it was a lock of her hair.
“She’s far too dangerous to send home with any of you.
But we’ve had long enough to study her—we feel confident we can put her powers into one of my super-servants for you.
” He smiled, long and slow, like a shark.
“Hell, we could even put them in you—if you trusted my people enough for the surgery.”
Sergei guffawed.
“Watch,” Voss said, giving him a nod, before typing in a new command. I caught it in midair too.
Make Alonzo tell a truth, I passed along, with as little latency as possible.
Sirena’s eyes glazed for a fraction. The peeved mask fell from Alonzo’s face, and words tumbled out—too fast, wrong, and impossibly private.
“We burned them in the north pit,” he said, voice small. “They took the trucks and we set the fires. I paid for silence.”
Conversation stopped as if someone had pressed a hand on the world. Faces went white. Alonzo tried to shove the words back in; his throat closed on them like a trap.
“Too scared of surgery to get a neural mask?” Voss asked, his eyebrows high, before turning to the others.
“Not drugs,” he said softly. “Not magic. Just sheer talent, for the connoisseurs. Truth extraction, and control of up to twenty people,” Voss said, typing again, as he fluidly lied—I’d never specified anything like that in my imaginary data.
I caught the next bit of data he sent.
Make Alonzo’s men jump overboard.
I flashed the thought in my mind, brightly.
She continued to smile vacantly, blinked, and then five men near the railing turned around and started climbing.
The people nearby were surprised by their movement, and started restraining them—but not before two got over.
There was a three-second lag before we all heard the splashes of them landing in the water below.
Voss whistled, and sent several of his men after them—meanwhile the ones Sirena had pushed kept trying to escape the clutches of the others.
This . . . surprised Voss. His next command on the tablet was to tell her to stop. I shared it, and she did.
“You are playing a dangerous game,” said Al-Najjar. He gravely shook his head, but he still stepped forward, to consider her more personally.
“And you could, too,” Voss said with a grin. “I’ve got three of them ready to go tonight. I expect your bids before dawn.”
“How do we know she’s not in on it with you?” Arnaud said. Only seventy percent of his factories were legitimate—of course the idea of entirely servile workers intrigued him.
Voss’s eyebrows rose. “An excellent question. Let me see,” he said, his fingers hovering above the touch screen.
I stepped closer, instinctively—too close, too fast, afraid of what he’d command her to do.
And Sirena saw me.
Her eyes narrowed in irritation. She flinched, just barely—almost imperceptibly—but enough. Enough for Voss to clock it. Enough for him to see what he wanted to see.
He smiled like a snake. “Ah,” he said softly.
“Perfect. You’ll do,” he announced, then began typing.
“You see, gentlemen—Dr. Marek here was not only my lead scientist on this project, but also her lead torturer,” Voss said.
“And apparently she still has strong feelings where he’s concerned.
” He continued to type, then hit enter with a final flourish.
“But of course, the women you’re bidding on will be wiped—just as blank of slates as the ones you’ve purchased prior. ”
I caught the string of data as it flew across the signal.
He, I began, trying to hold the thought away from her—but she caught it in my mind, just as I’d caught it from the Wi-Fi. Wants you to crawl to me. And suck me off.
Sirena read it—and nothing else in her demeanor changed. She dropped to her knees on the deck’s polished wood and began crawling toward me, the slits in her dress parting like curtains with each movement.
The rest of the men went completely silent, and so did I.
“Voss,” I growled, in Marek’s roughest tone.
“What did I tell you about tongues, Marek?” Voss casually inquired. “Besides—I’m certain she has a nice one.”
Sirena reached my feet and knelt back on her heels before putting her hands on my waist, and started to undo the belt of my slacks. I glanced past the men and saw the horrified expression on Kelly’s face—then the Dullahan had the decency to close his eyes.
“You are absolutely getting killed now,” Takamatsu said, then snorted. “Him, too. We should start a pool.”
“Before or after the show?” Voss laughed.
Sirena worked the slacks down, then the boxer briefs beneath—exposing me to the humid night air.
“At least try to enjoy it, Marek,” Voss muttered.
“I’ll take a turn,” Sergei offered.
My body tensed. Sirena pressed her hands to my thighs, steadying herself—and then leaned forward and kissed the tip of my cock.
Oh no, I thought, a cold horror blooming.
I liked my new penis. I liked what we’d done with it last night. But this wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the place. These weren’t the people. And also—
Why had evolution designed it so that the same thing was used for both?
Sirena’s laugh was muffled—but I felt it. Her cheeks puffed out, and her lips curved around me in a way only I would notice.
“Get it going, man,” one of the buyers muttered.
But I was barely breathing. And she—she was playing a longer game.
She batted her eyes up at me and stole what little breath I had left away, when she took all of me into her mouth.
“Daddy’s little girl, sucking a stranger’s cock,” Voss said, appreciatively. “I should tape this and send it to him.”
Her fingers curled against my stomach, holding me close with my slacks—and I dared to put my hands in her hair.
That made her tongue work harder—and any restraint I had melted away. I gave a rough pant—and below me, Sirena purred.
“You should stream it, for money—I’ve got servers no one can touch,” Takamatsu promised.
But that wasn’t true, was it, I thought, as I slid past Sirena’s perfectly painted pink lips, all of me landing home. I could put everything Takamatsu had ever done—every file, every feed, every fucked-up whisper—on the dark web tonight. And I would. I just—
Sirena gave a sudden, sharp suck.
My knees buckled.
Her eyes flicked up to mine, dry and knowing. Focus, they said.
I choked on a gasp. She pressed her tongue against the underside of me in reprimand. A sensual slap on the wrist.
Sorry, I thought—too loud, too earnest—and her eyes softened a fraction, before she hollowed her cheeks like a woman in love with vengeance.
I swayed. Her hands tightened on my thighs, holding me steady, grounding me even as she stripped me bare.
Someone laughed. Someone moaned. The deck was no longer quiet.
But all I could hear was my own pulse, surging like static, and her—Sirena—sucking me deeper into her mouth like a promise, making a weapon of her body.
My fingers trembled in her hair—mine, not Marek’s—and she let me hold her close, pulling me in, the head of my cock sliding down into the top of her throat.
A groan escaped me, half-formed, shame-slicked. But she didn’t falter. Her shoulders rolled, slow and sure, and I was unraveling.
The men around us had vanished. The sky above, the sea below. There was only her, on her knees, in the wreckage of everything we’d become, giving the illusion of obedience while handing me pieces of my soul.
“Come on her face, Marek,” Voss commanded—and when I didn’t react fast enough, he threatened, “Pull out or I’ll make her bite you.” He waved the tablet.
I jerked back and grabbed myself, aiming and shooting my wet dick like a gun, spraying her with ropes of reproductive fluid, while she gazed at me adoringly with bright eyes and an ever-so-slightly impish stare, especially as her tongue darted out to lick a drop off her upper lip.