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And I thought that Deputy Bachchan was meant to be the Resistance's golden girl.
If this was how they treated their saviour, Jacob hated to think how they treated their outcasts. Because Deputy Bachchan was currently lying face down in a sty surrounded by pigs, and Jacob couldn't fathom for one second how all these goddamn farmers had gotten so drunk that they'd forgotten that pigs ate anything.
"Walsh, Johnson, get the Deputy out of the pig pen," Jacob ordered.
John had called to complain that the sinners were having a party, so Jacob had sent in backup. He'd intended to head to John's afterwards, but now he was more concerned with the unconscious woman currently covered in mud and groaning softly as the two Chosen dragged her up onto her feet and carried her over to him.
"Deputy," Jacob called. "Deputy Bachchan. Can you hear me?"
The long dark lashes were clumped with mud as they fluttered open, and despite the darkness setting in around them, Bachchan squinted as she managed to force herself awake through the buzz.
"Oh frick," she mumbled. "Where am I?"
"Holland Valley." Jacob turned around, signalling for Walsh and Johnson to follow him towards their truck.
"Huh." It came out kind of sing-song. "You're in the wrong region, huh? What brings you guys down here?"
"You know how we feel about alcohol, Deputy," Jacob reminded her, glancing behind him. "You were having quite the party."
"Pshht." Bachchan grinned, a little unsettling and unsteady. "You would've loved it. We ate dick and I shot stuff."
"Mhmm." They reached the truck. "Well, you might not like it so much when you sober up."
"When I sober up, there won't be three of you," she groaned, "and that's such a shame because you have a fantastic ass, Jacob."
Walsh and Johnson went stiff as floorboards as she gave him another one of those unsettling grins. Maybe it was unsettling because she was covered in mud and drunk as fuck and yet she was flirting with him. Either way, between the casual announcement about her opinion on his ass and the grin, it made Jacob pause for a second.
“Get her in,” he muttered, gesturing to the door. “And get someone to clean her up. Joseph wants to have a word with her.”
“Yes sir,” Walsh muttered.
Jesus, they’d really left her alone in a pig pen like that. She wasn’t even struggling as Walsh and Johnson bundled her into the truck and got in on either side of her. She passed out on the drive back to the centre without a word. Jacob wanted to sneer at the weakness, the indulgence. At the arrogance. She really thought she was safe anywhere, didn’t she?
“Raising Sister Marnie,” he called as he got out of the truck. “Come in, Marnie.”
“Brother Jacob, how can I help?”
“Need you and a group of your priestesses up in the Whitetails at the centre,” he told her. “I’ve got the Deputy and she needs to look presentable for a meeting with Joseph.”
“On our way. ETA ten minutes.”
Might as well put Faith’s priestesses to use whilst they waited for Joseph to train up the next one. Jacob didn’t think Joseph needed to meet Bachchan whilst she was mud-soaked and smelling like pigs. Besides, he couldn’t risk any of his Chosen suddenly growing weak at the sight of the unconscious Deputy.
Walsh and Johnson brought her into one of the locker rooms and set her down on a bench. She grunted as her back made contact with the wooden slats but didn’t stir. Her brow furrowed a little and she rolled onto her stomach as they left her alone with Jacob. His eyes followed the curve of her ass.
She has a nice ass. So what. She flirted with you. So what. You're 47 and she’s passed-out drunk. “You’re a mess, Deputy.”
“Mhmm.” One eye cracked open, looking up at him. “S’fun, though. Try it.”
“No thanks.” He hooked his hands into his pockets. “I don’t need your weaknesses.”
She chuckled. “Your loss.”
“My loss?” He shook his head. “Deputy, you’re locked up in the veteran’s centre, so drunk you can barely stand up, and it’s my loss that I don’t go around making myself vulnerable?”
She turned to look at him. “Get a hobby that isn’t torture.”
"You're awful mouthy for someone who knows what I do as a hobby," he drawled.
"Don't ruin my evening by shoving me in a cage," she whined. "Unless it's for kink reasons."
Jacob opened his mouth to reply.
"Brother Jacob? It's Sister Marnie."
“Come in.”
The door swung open to let in the small group of priestesses. “She reeks,” one of them muttered as they came over.
“Clean her up and leave her upstairs,” Jacob ordered. “Any disturbances, come find me.”
“Yes, Brother.”
The priestesses swarmed the Deputy, lifting her to her feet as she made a few grunts of complaint, and Jacob left the room to the sound of tearing cloth filling the air.
“Did you have fun, Deputy?”
She glanced up at him from her seat on the bed, the glass of water and aspirin already gone. Rubbing her eyes, Bachchan groaned, just a little.
“Really hoped that was just a booze dream,” she mumbled. “Fuck.”
“Is that the thanks I get for saving your ass?” Jacob drawled. “Do you even know where you were when we found you?”
“Pig pen, right?” she managed. Those dark eyes glanced up at him. “Why?”
He leaned back against the door. She didn’t look too bad in the getup they’d shoved her into. The pale sweater actually suited her. Made those big eyes look even bigger. “Do you know that pigs eat anything that gets left in with them?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “It was the finale to season 4 of Criminal Minds. Was that your way of trying to spook me?”
Jacob had expected a little bit of fear, but he supposed he had to be disappointed sometimes. “What you should be spooked by is the fact that your allies left you passed out and vulnerable in a place like that,” he said. “You’re their best hope. Their greatest fighter. And they let you get drunk and endangered.”
She closed her eyes. “Everyone makes dumb decisions when they’re smashed.”
“Dumb decisions, like telling me I have a nice ass?” he taunted.
Oh, there it was. Wide eyes, hot flush, lips parted. He didn’t get the fear he wanted, but fuck, he got the shame. Jacob stepped forward just a little to enjoy the expression a little longer as Bachchan’s hand froze by her temple.
“So that bit wasn’t a dream either,” she muttered. “Fuck.”
“You didn’t mean it?” He stepped closer, watching her shuffle back. “You said somethin’ stupid whilst you were drunk and now you wanna take it back?”
Her lips parted. Cracked little noises escaped her throat. “I- what?”
Jacob leaned down, a hand pressing against the mattress at her side. She fell onto one elbow, big dark eyes watching him like a deer being stalked across the forest. “You said you didn’t want me to throw you in the cage unless it was for, what was it?”
Her throat bobbed. “Kink purposes,” she whispered.
“Is that what you like?” he murmured. “You like it when you’re at someone else’s mercy. Is that why you got drunk like that? You wanted someone to find you?” He dragged his tongue across his lower lip. “Did you want it to be Johnny? Be honest.”
Her brow furrowed. “He’s- really not my type.”
He didn’t touch her, watching her shiver beneath him. “You wanna be at my mercy then, Deputy? ‘Cause let me tell you, I’m not sweet when I’ve got ya in the palm of my hand.”
Shaky little breaths fanned against his t-shirt as Bachchan sat there, her eyes locked onto his. The sweater stretched across her chest with every frantic rise and fall. Jacob wanted to shove it up and lick along her bare stomach. The way she was gazing up like a frightened animal made him hard against his jeans.
“You’re fucking with me,” she breathed. “You don’t mean this.”
Jacob leaned just a little further forward and she slipped off that elbow, her back hitting the mattress. He braced himself over her, his legs pushing hers slowly open. She didn’t stop him. She was too busy trying to breathe.
“You’re the one who flirted first,” Jacob drawled. “Don’t write a check with your mouth you can’t cash with your ass.”
“I don’t sleep with people who try and fuck with my head.” Her voice fractured on the words. “Only if they’re actually attracted to me.”
He finally touched her, fingers grasping her jaw. She twitched underneath him. “You’re cute, Deputy Bachchan,” he told her. “You’d look real good with all this getup shoved to one side so I can get at ya properly.”
“Is this happening?” she panted. “Are you really trying to fuck me?”
His thumb pressed against her lips. “Gonna let me?”
“Holy fuck,” Bachchan whined, “yes.”
The first thing he did was grab a handful of that round, peachy ass.
Bachchan pushed her crotch into his, and she rubbed up against his erection with a groan as he squeezed the plush handful. He’d watched that ass walk down the aisle as its owner escorted his brother away, and it felt even better than it looked. His hands found her belt and unbuckled it, sliding it out of the loops to let him rip the button open and yank the zipper down. She lifted her hips to let him get her pants off, and he hooked his fingers into her underwear to get them both out of the way in one firm pull that caught it around her knees.
She yanked the sweater off, leaving her in a plain white tank top. Marnie hadn’t given her underwear. The stiff points of her nipples pushed through the fabric and as she reached for the hem of her shirt, he batted her hands away.
“Don’t take it off,” he ordered, “pull it up.”
“Of course that’s how you like it,” she groaned, pulling the hem up to expose her tits. “You- fuck!”
Jacob ducked his head, grasping her free wrist to pin it above her head as his lips wrapped around a nipple. Bachchan groaned, arching up into his face as his right hand pushed her thighs open. Parting the thick curls around her folds, he ran a finger along the length of her. She gave him a full-body shiver, legs opening as wide as they could with her pants still on. She was already pretty wet, and he rubbed a little of it against her clit just to hear her whimper above him. Tongue teasing her nipple, Jacob pressed his hand a little harder, working her clit in circles.
Her thighs tried to snap shut around his hand, but Jacob forced them open again, a finger pressing into her so that his thumb could get at her instead.
“You want it to stop, you use your words,” he purred, glancing up at her to drink in the sight of the flushed cheeks and the sparkling eyes. “Don’t make this harder for me. Or I might just shove myself into that pretty mouth and fuck it ‘til I’m done.”
Her walls clenched around his finger. “That’s not the threat you think it is,” she panted.
He was thinking hard about rolling her over and dragging her onto her knees so he could carry that threat out. “Right.” Jacob regained his composure enough to fit another finger into her. “How could I forget? Deputy Bachchan likes being at the mercy of others.”
Her hips pushed into his hand as she arched her back, silently begging him to put his mouth back to work. “Yes I f-fucking do sir.”
“You gonna call me sir when you’re goin’ through a Trial?” he taunted, feeling her shake.
“Only if you fuck me at the end,” she gasped.
That had him straining in his boxers. Bachchan, dirty and exhausted, wired up from the Trial, shaking from adrenaline and pleasure as he fucked her into his bed. “Jesus, Deputy.” He licked along her ribs. “You watch that mouth of yours, or I’ll change my mind about what your purpose is and keep you locked up in here with a collar on.”
“Ohfuckyes.” She clamped down around his fingers, a sharp cry filling the air as her hips frantically pumped against his hand.
Jacob was merciful this time, and as his thumb rolled over her clit, his tongue went back to working at her nipples. Those shaking fingers curled into his hair, holding tight as he fucked her on his hand. Her thighs crushed his palm, her muscles twitching.
“Still gonna let me?” he chuckled, finally sliding his fingers away.
“Yes,” she groaned, free hand dropping her shirt to reach for his jeans.
He stepped out of her reach as he worked his belt open and off, licking his lips at the way she looked laid out on the bed beneath him. Big dark eyes and flushed cheeks, legs parted wide so he could see the slick gleaming on her skin. Not a hint of fear on her face, like she wasn’t locked behind several rows of walls and doors filled with his soldiers.
“Look at that,” he murmured, unzipping himself. “I got ya in my headquarters. The place where I do every single thing you fight against all day, and here you are with your clothes off and your legs open.” He pulled his cock free, pushing his jeans down a little. “You ain’t feeling any guilt, are ya?”
“Guilt is for the sober,” Bachchan panted, “and I’m still buzzed.”
Jacob reached down and grabbed her hips, flipping her over to drag her up onto her knees. His hands moved to her ass to squeeze a handful of it again. “Better fuck you before you realise what you’ve done, then.”
"Please."
The pants locked around her knees kept her legs tight together, and Jacob didn’t bother parting them as he stroked his cock. “Is fear for the sober too?” he taunted, pressing the head against her folds.
“How did you guess,” she groaned, pushing herself back.
A few inches fitted into her, and Jesus but she was tight around him. Maybe because she was small, or because her thighs were shut, but she was soaked, and once he got past the initial push into her, he found himself slipping in easy. Bachchan’s feet kicked up, pressing against his ass to coax him in deeper. Maybe another day he’d torment her, make her really beg for it, if she let him at her after he’d dragged her through a trial. But right now there was a pretty girl who was soaking wet and wanting him to fuck her, and Jacob damn well wasn’t about to turn the opportunity down.
“Cry if you’re in pain,” he told her, their hips meeting. A groan escaped him. He reached for her hair, scooping it up into his fist. “Best way to get my attention.”
“Ohfuck,” she whimpered, “w-would you actually stop if I was?”
God. He pulled her head up as he leaned down, his mouth brushing her ear. “Little late for you to be worried about that.”
She gasped, loud and high-pitched. Jacob shoved her back down into the mattress and thrust, palm covering her hip. It’d been way too fucking long since he’d done this. She squeezed down around him, her hands grasping her covers.
“Stop trying to scare me,” she moaned, “the fear is a turn-on.”
“You this screwed-up when you’re sober, baby?” Jacob asked, squeezing her ass again. “Or did I just get lucky?”
“When I’m sober,” she pushed back against him, taking him to the hilt, “how ‘bout we try again and- fuck- you find out?”
“Oh Deputy.” He pulled her up again, tugging her by the roots, listening to her whine all pretty as he worked in and out of that tight little heat. “You should’ve come found me weeks ago.”
Bachchan groaned, rocking her hips with his thrusts until Jacob was gritting his teeth to stop the noises that wanted to escape him. “Only if I come today, honey,” she laughed.
“You already did, girl,” his hand left her ass to shove between her thighs, “but you wanna go again, be my guest.”
“Thank you Jacob.” She spread her thighs a little to let his fingers part the thick curls and find her clit. “God, y-you are wasted up here, you wanna give up this Herald shit and move in with me? I’ve got a place.”
He dragged his tongue up her neck and let go of her hair to wrap a hand around her throat, holding her steady against him. Her hips jerked as he began to rub her clit, and it was tempting to squeeze and see if she tried to stop him. “No can do, little girl.” His thumb ran over her pulse. “Only one who’s gonna give their shit up is you. Think you’d be ok kneelin’ at my feet all day with a collar on?”
She got all tight at that, and Jacob sunk his teeth into her throat as he sped up, muffling his groans in her flesh, left hand moving to cup her breast.
“Just a collar?” she managed.
“Oh, you want more?” Jacob panted, fingers speeding up to pull a series of broken sobs from her throat. “C’mon, Deputy. Tell me.”
She was shoving her ass into his crotch, John’s hated menace, Joseph’s manifestation of hell, all 5’3 of her wriggling underneath him with her hands buried in the covers and her hips working at him. He didn’t like to count his victories before the enemy was truly defeated, but listening to Bachchan gasp out his name and dig her heels into the backs of his thighs to coax him to go faster?
Even if she somehow escaped before Joseph got to speak to her, Jacob would call that a victory he could laud over their enemies. Their perfect saviour, their pretty little messiah, soaking wet for him before he’d even gotten her strapped into a chair, rutting against him like she was going to die if she didn’t cum all over his cock.
Moaning at the thought of being leashed to him.
“Y-you could really sell the idea if- mmm- y’know, matching lingerie would- be nice!” she gasped, her thighs tensing against his.
“No point,” Jacob was going to need her to cum soon, because the sensation of being buried inside her was too good, “ain’t like you’re gonna be wearin’ it long.”
“Put me on your fucking lap all day so I can keep your dick warm, huh?” she laughed, breath hitching when he pinched her nipple.
“You’re damn right.” He licked along where his teeth had marked her throat. “You want it, little girl? Sit there like a good pet and let me mess you around until I’m ready to take you?”
“Before o-or after you torture me?” she moaned.
“Both,” the thought of her slumped in his lap, exhausted and naked, his cock in her to the hilt, god, “you’re gonna look so pretty after your Trial when you can’t fuckin’ move, all you can do is sit there and just let me fuck you-”
She squeezed down on him with a cry, a soft little “oh fuck” that dripped with aroused guilt. Jacob could hear it in her voice as her thighs tried to snap tight around his hand and force him to stop touching the sensitive little nub. Bachchan was hot for it, came to the thought of belonging to him and being a prisoner. He wondered how many of the good little Resistance boys had fantasised about her. What they’d think if they knew she’d just hit the spot imagining herself in captivity.
Jacob moved enough that he could kneel up and watch where they joined as her body quivered. Yanking off his shirt, his eyes were drawn to the sight of slick coating his cock. He almost wondered how he fit in her. She looked so little. Did it hurt? Did she like the fact that it hurt? Was she barely holding back sobs of pain between cries of pleasure? If he wanted to hurt her later, would she let him? The thought of leaving handprints on her ass, scratches down her back, bruises on her throat-
“Gonna cum in you, Deputy,” he breathed.
“Fuckyesplease,” she sobbed.
Well, shit.
She liked pain. She liked risk, danger. Jacob felt himself twitch before white-hot ecstasy flooded him. It spread from where he was buried in her, and he grabbed her hips, pulling her into him so that all of him fit into her like the world’s most fucked-up puzzle. Because it was, Deputy Bachchan shouldn’t want her enemy, and it fucked with his head in a way that really just made him want to fucking collar her.
John couldn’t be trusted with a creature like this. Wouldn’t know the first thing about getting her to heel. Jacob, though, Jacob could break her without ruining the best parts. If Joseph let him keep her, that’d be the first thing he got to once the little meeting was over. He’d let her do the first Trial in the centre instead of the Grandview so he could work both kinds of conditioning back to back.
Hell, the thought of putting her through a Trial just to immediately work on shaping her into his perfect little pet whilst she was still exhausted and drunk on adrenaline almost made him hard all over again.
“Your hangover cleared up, baby?” he cooed. “Am I about to have to tie you up so you don’t try and run away?”
“Promises promises,” came the breathless mutter from beneath him.
His thumbs spread her folds to watch his cum work out of her, starting to drip down her thighs. “They sure fuckin’ are,” he murmured. “You owe me for saving your pretty ass from your friends’ mistakes.”
“Isn’t Project sex slave a little too permanent for a one-time save?” she asked.
He leaned over her, watching her twitch as his breath fanned over her neck. “Put it this way, Deputy; you would’ve died without me. I think, since I saved the rest of your life, it makes sense that you now owe the rest of it to me.”
“I’m not great at commitment,” Bachchan said after a moment to catch her breath. “Gonna need to see some real compelling evidence to keep me here.”
Jacob’s hand found her throat, holding without squeezing. “Don’t worry, little girl. I can break the most stubborn soldier out of that problem. I got recruits lining up to become my Chosen. I think I can fix your commitment issues with the right discipline.”
Her breath caught and her walls clenched. There was the fear he’d wanted when he’d asked her what she knew about pigs. Finally, his patience had paid off.
“I like to do my own thing most days,” she whispered. Her voice shook.
Jacob thumbed her pulse, his mouth by her ear again. “Oh, Deputy. You want the collar, you stop actin’ like a hero. Gotta be a good little soldier for me if you want rewards like what we just did. You got it?”
She gulped in air. “Yes.”
“Mmm?” He slid her shirt back down to cover her breasts. “Yes who?”
A tremor rocked her. “Yes sir.”
"Good girl." He didn't bother pulling out of her. "First thing we're gonna do is get you dressed again and take you to see Joseph. Then you can come back here and start your training. How does that sound?"
"You- aren't allowed to fornicate, how the fuck are you gonna sneak that past your brother?" Bachchan moaned.
God, she was all soft and warm and soaked and Jacob was looking forward to perching her on his lap for hours whilst she kept him inside her. "You ask a lot of questions."
"I'm a shrink," she whispered.
"I won't hold it against you," he promised as he ran his palm beneath her shirt, up her belly to cup her breast. "You just keep all the bullshit in your mouth and don't say it aloud."
"You- might wanna rethink taking me as a pet then," Bachchan fidgeted as his finger and thumb rolled her nipple, "I talk a lot."
"Got cold feet now you sobered up, huh?" Jacob taunted. "Sorry, Deputy. You painted me a pretty picture, and now I think I'll keep it."
A tremor rocked her. “Just don’t shave my head and paint your symbol on my face.”
The door swung open. Golden light poured in like rays from Heaven sent to illuminate their sins. It was broken only by the figure of Joseph in the doorway, and when his eyes focused on the scene, they widened behind the yellow aviators.
Sliding an arm around Bachchan’s stomach, Jacob pulled her up so that her back was flush against his stomach. “Joseph.”
“What did you do?” Joseph asked quietly.
"Me," Bachchan croaked.
Jacob snorted.
His brother’s eyes closed for a moment, and he pressed a hand to his forehead. “This is not her purpose, Jacob, and you are giving in to sin.”
“Relax.” Jacob gripped the Deputy’s jaw. “She can still fulfil her purpose after this. I’m just gonna train her up for another one at the same time.”
Joseph stared at him, then took a slow breath. “We will speak about this later, Jacob. For now, clean her up and bring her to your office. And do not linger in here.”
“Course not.” Jacob’s thumb pushed into her mouth. “We’ll be in soon, won’t we, Deputy?”
Bachchan shrank into him even as her lips closed around his thumb.