Snowbird [18+] ✔️ Complete

| XIII |

Brock picked Ashelin up marriage style.

"You're a pretty deranged chick, you know that?" he asked.

She nodded, unable to reply through the gag. She'd known she was an anomaly since she was young, and she let the boys take their games way farther than the other girls did.

When she hit teenhood, she missed the innocent and easily-manipulated curious nature of her friends when they were kids. Once they hit puberty they just wanted sex, but none of them cared to give it to her like she wanted. She'd torn their circle of friends apart by fucking them all, hoping to find what she was looking for.

And now she'd found it, over a decade later, on an island in Thailand.

Earnhardt was in a better mood this time around, as he'd pumped a yellow syringe and chased it with half a bottle of black rum. Ashelin was pretty worn out but quietly content and they interacted in a comfortable silence while he checked her over and drew her a bath.

While the water trickled into the tub, a hulking pirate that Earnhardt knew as Archon entered with food for both of them. The doctor raised an eyebrow. Archon glared at him as he set the trays down hard on the table and retreated, apparently unhappy with being delivery boy.

The doctor was intrigued, and a little pleased. He'd always had to see to his own dinner. Maybe this girl was useful, after all.

"Is that food?" Ashelin groaned, longing evident in her voice. She hobbled over to the table and lifted the lid of the top tray. "It looks like barf, and I don't even care." The smell wafted over and the doctor recognized it as Halil's signature boar stew.

Looks like vomit, but it tastes like heaven, he thought.

Ashelin polished her bowl in about two minutes and mopped up the gravy with her hunk of bread, moaning with satisfaction.

"Fresh bread? These guys have it all figured out," she said through a mouthful of bread as she lowered herself into the hot bath. "Live off the land, no tv, campfires every night."

"Killing indigenous people, slave trading, torture," Earnhardt muttered. "Paradise."

"Why do you stay here, then?" She sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head back. He briefly imagined slitting her throat right then, but he didn't want to be executed for murdering Vaas' best asset.

He didn't reply, and Ashelin didn't push it. Frankly, she didn't care. All that mattered to her was getting her strength up for whatever the King had planned for tonight. With a full belly and the heat of the water enveloping her, she dozed happily.

"At least take this." Earnhardt said after a time.

She opened her eyes just enough to glance at the syringe in his hands. "What is it?"

"Contraceptive." Of sorts. It would definitely destroy anything spawning in her uterus, and give her a rather psychedelic trip in the process.

"Oh fuck I don't need that." Ashelin waved her hand. "I'm on the shot, I'm good for three months. I had more doses in my suitcase that's kicking around in a Bangkok hotel room somewhere, so if nobody is going to retrieve that then we'll talk later."

The doctor shrugged and tossed the syringe onto the table beside him. As if she'd last three months.

Ashelin's hands were bound in front of her, but they hadn't gagged or blindfolded her this time. She figured that was an improvement. Maybe she was growing on the pirate King.

Archon led her into yet another shabbily furnished hut, slamming the door behind her.

"Pleasure is all mine," she muttered, and almost leapt out of her skin upon hearing Vaas laugh at her.

He stepped out of the shadows. How did he always manage to do that?

"You're funny, hermana." His predatory eyes sent a thrill through her.

He fought to conceal his lust for her. It was a need, tugging at his loins, and he despised that she had such a pull on him. Keeping her guessing was a way to exert his control, and he reveled in it.

Tonight would be an interesting experiment.

Ashelin wanted to speak, to answer with some witty comeback, but her mouth went dry. She could feel his dominance, and her very core wanted to submit.

"I have a special job for you, snowbird." He stepped forward and her breath caught in her throat as he ran a finger down her cheek. "I need your superior acting skills to help intimidate some fresh hostages." His hand moved down to her throat and rested there for a moment.

They stared at each other, the space between them agonizing, until Ashelin lowered her gaze with a heady blink. He smirked.

He slid his hand around the back of her neck and guided her across the hut to the back window. In the dusk, she could make out a line of three large cages a few huts down.

"Volker assumes that hostages will always comply and fear for their lives... but I know better," Vaas purred in her ear, and it clicked that it had been Mr. Volker who owned her hotel suite. "I know that you have to put that fear in them, make them see the consequences of their actions. Then they will be as compliant as kittens."

Ashelin let out the breath she'd been holding. "How many?"

"Four," Vaas replied as he massaged her neck.

She pressed her thighs together. "Women?"

"Two women, two men," he answered, impressed at her questioning. Ransoming herself to her father was quite a feat, but being accessory to scaring innocent hostages? He hadn't been sure she would be willing to participate. "From what I can tell, brothers and their girlfriends."

Ashelin took a deep breath. "Catch me, then," she said, and elbowed him in the face.