Chapter Twenty One
Milk Run
“This is going to take some time, Sweethearts,” he said, turning his back on the twins and adjusting the multitude of dials and gauges on the panel that stretched along one wall. “We can’t expect immediate results, no matter how well equipped you appear to be, but we are patient and you will, in time, provide exactly what we promised the Nobles…if not, we just take you back and rework a few things.”
Behind him, Lynda and Gail Johnson cried and mewed into the hoods and full-face masks, incoherently pleading alternately for mercy and release. They stood rigidly upright, perched on two stout chromed poles deeply set into the decking. Their attire would have been more appropriate if they were suited up for a rubber porn video, but in this case, they were dressed
