I
His stomach sits right over the blanket, looking like a fairy mound covered in fur that could hide all kinds of creatures.
Sauda usually likes bigger builds, but being the right-hand man to the boss of an international human trafficking ring made him a real sleaze. It didn’t help that the way to get close to him was to be a beautiful victim.
Sauda spent six months undercover as a scared American college girl who was kidnapped during her vacation and would do anything to survive, and finally, she had him all to herself. She had absolutely no contact with her team so hopefully; the plan went without fail.
“This is a… unique song,” he says.
“Oh,” she pouts.
Sauda stands by the sound system, only wearing panties. Her chest sways as she wraps her arms around herself. She watches his eyes follow their movements, his heavily mustached mouth gaping.
“Damn mouth-breather,” She thinks.
“You don’t like this song, Daddy?” she asks in a whiny, almost southern accent.
The unique voice wraps around the room. “... and damn it, if you fuck me… over, I will rip your fucking face apart.”
“Oh,” she pouts.
“No-no.” He tries to sit up but the ties around each wrist pull him roughly back. The cover lowers as he lays back and Sauda prays that it doesn’t show his shriveled penis.
He relaxes on the bed, arms stretched like he’s being crucified. Little did he know…
“I like the song. It’s… different, but sexy.”
Sauda pastes an enormous smile on her face, letting her eyes sparkle like she’s genuinely glad that he likes the song.
She puts her arms down, gently caressing her hips and thigh, She struts over to him, smile disappearing, a little of her real self poking through the facade. The music sways her.
If you can't handle a heart like mine, don’t waste your time with me
If you’re not down to bleed, no, whoa
If you can't handle the chokin’, the bitin’, the lovin’, the smotherin’
Till you can’t handle it, no more, no more, go home
She straddles him, trying to put as much weight on his lower body. Though his legs were tied he could probably still throw her by tossing and turning.
She slides her hands up his arms, pulling on his wrist to make sure he is still secure. She grinds to the beat, letting her body take over.
Eat me up like apple pie
Make me not wanna die
Love me right, feeling let me fly
Get me up, yeah, get me high
Tie me down, don’t leave my side
Don’t be a waste of my time
Sauda kisses him, holding back just a little like the intel said he likes. She runs her hands up and down, teasing him, trying to hear the music around his moans.
She puts her hand between her legs, under the cover, grabbing him hard enough to make him hiss as she thinks, “Where the hell is my team?”
Just as Sauda draws more sounds from him by stroking, the door bursts open, snapping off its hinges. The chaos of outside and a loud alarm flooding the soundproof room.
Sauda swings around, blocking her “Daddy’s” view with her body as she pulls her hidden gun.
“Hands up. Don’t shoot.”
Sauda puts her gun down, finger off the trigger as she sees a familiar face at the door.
“Sugar,” she nods. “I was afraid I would have to have sex with him before you got here.”
First Lt. Jordan Thayjon Kettlewell, CodeName Sugar, walks into the room, bodies piled up in the hallway. “your Chariot has arrived, your Majesty.”
Sauda sneers at her new nickname and turns back around to face the scumbag underneath her.
Realizing what’s happening, the henchman tries to buck her off of him. How he plans to escape while tied up, she did not understand, but she didn’t have time to watch.
She feels her skin harden and darken as she lets go of her Demon blood. Before she had to work to change into her demon form—calling it up from within her. But now she has to work to stay into her human skin as her powers jump up a class. Constantly, she has a fist squeezed around her powers, keeping it in to stay human. She gently opens that fist an inch to let some power flow free.
She grabs his face, dragging his eyes to hers as they turn silver. She watches the fear fill them until they grow slack and in a daze, a new hypnotic power she seemed to develop.
Now that she has him under her spell, she reaches over the headboard and pulls her favorite knives out. It was a bit of overkill, but far less than what he deserved.
She crosses her blades and puts them to his neck. She drags them across and free, enjoying the splash of fiery blood on her face, neck, and chest.
The song starts over and Sauda climbs off the bed as Jordan hits the power on the sound system. She grabs the skimpy outfit she had on earlier and wipes most of herself off. Jordan tosses a bag at her feet.
“I know my guns aren’t in there and you’re just throwing them around.”
“Your precious babies will be just fine being a little roughed up. Now hurry, the chopper is here,” Jordan says. His face is serious. Sauda knows it’s because he’s in mission mode.
The second they are in the clear, a smile will light up his brown skin and the wisecracks will start flowing.
Sauda opens her bag and pulls out her SIG—her baby, and kisses it, before setting it aside. Quick as she can, she dresses and straps on all her weapons.
She grabs her rifle and starts out the door and through the hallway with Sugar at her back.
“Everything set?” She asks into her comm piece.
“Positive. By morning, the walls of Jericho will fall.”
Sauda and Jordan step over the bodies as they head out of Jericho and into Russia’s glaring sun and blue-tipped snow caps. The stealth-colored helicopter is in front of them, rotors spinning. Dix sits inside waving to them.
“Your Majesty, we have a fresh batch of loyal subjects waiting for you at the base,” Jordan laughs.
“Great,” she rolls her eyes.