Chapter 16
Smoke curls lazily around the commander’s fingers from his cigarette as he stares down at the naked woman at his feet.
She’s beautiful, almost startlingly so. And, as always, she’s his willing plaything.
Ready and begging to do whatever he demands of her.
No matter how depraved his tastes might be that evening, he knows she’ll do anything he asks and still beg for more.
That’s the mark of a good product made by the Program.
His pale-blue eyes stare back at him in the mirror across the room.
He takes a few minutes to appreciate his own visage.
His naked body is lean and powerfully muscled, sculpted by years of harsh, unrelenting discipline.
His hair is almost silvery white, and his skin is so pale it’s almost translucent.
As a child, he was mocked relentlessly for his appearance.
But after he beat his bully to a bloody pulp in the alley behind their schoolyard, he decided he liked the way he looked.
His pale skin is like a bare canvas, and when it’s covered with the blood of his enemies, the stark contrast of red on white is the most beautiful painting.
His cock stiffens at the thought, and he gives it an absentminded stroke.
Perhaps he should make the woman at his feet bleed?
He’d love to see her pretty scarlet blood smeared across his bare skin.
The Program has strict rules against physically harming the products, but a small nick in just the right place can be easily covered up and can produce quite a bit of blood.
The inner thigh and groin, for example. Nothing gets him off quite like seeing the fresh blood from a cut to a woman’s cunt staining his dick as he hammers into her.
His cock twitches in his hand like an animal with a mind of its own, but he frowns.
Yes, that would be fun. And he might just go for round two with the plaything lying on the rug in front of his chair. But it’s too easy. She wouldn’t even put up a fuss. She’d be excited to serve her Master. And while that’s the marker of a good product, the thought bores him.
What he’s craving is just a little… resistance. A little fire in the blood. A product that will do whatever he wants, but with a spirit that hasn't quite been broken. What he wants is product 417.
Annoyed, he drops his cigarette into the ashtray on the side table and picks up his phone.
The call connects after a few rings.
“Da?” a voice asks from the other end, the guttural tones of their mother country obvious, even in just one word.
“I want an update on product 417. Why haven’t you secured her yet?”
“Extraction is proving more difficult than expected, Commander.”
“Why? I thought you planned to obtain her last night during the challenge,” the commander seethes.
“She’s received training, sir. Evasion and hand-to-hand combat.”
A flush of heat washes across the commander’s skin, and his cock throbs in his hand.
“My little Ulayna has learned to fight? Oh, this is perfect. This is perfect,” he mumbles to himself.
“Once I have her back, I will bend her mind to my will, and she will become my greatest achievement. If she has the skills to best you, she will be my masterpiece. Not only will she be able to serve me, but she will be the perfect weapon to send to our enemies. She can seduce them and slice their throats open while they fuck her, never knowing her cunt actually belongs to me!”
The commander practically salivates at the idea, precum dripping from his cock. His hand moves faster and faster, and he squeezes himself until it’s painful.
“I must have her back!” he yells into the phone, his voice choppy with the motions of his hand.
“Do whatever it takes. You hear me? I don’t care if you have to blow your cover.
It would have been good to have a man inside Alexi’s organization and on one of his new teams. But I want my product back! ”
He hangs up the phone before the other man can respond and tosses it across the room.
“On your knees!” he orders the woman at his feet. She may not be his favorite product, but he can still use her to ease the ache in his balls. And knowing that soon, so very soon, he’s going to have Ulayna back has him ready to burst.