“Perfect.” He pats my ass. “Keep that dick hard.” He strokes me again a few times to pump me back up.
“I’m going to rip out your fucking throat!” I scream. Words are my only weapons.
I’m completely unarmed.
A metal ring is pressed against my lips, and I turn my head. I won’t do it. I won’t allow it.
“Open, pretty boy.” He reaches below me and pinches my nipple until I comply.
How does he play me so well? He knows where to touch, prod, and poke to get my obedience. I’m going to enjoy ripping his heart out.
He slides the metal ring in my mouth, keeping my jaw pried open as he buckles the strap behind my head.
“There.” He sticks his thumb over my tongue and down farther into my throat. I gag, lurching forward, ready for all the acid in my stomach to make its way out, but he pulls back before that happens. “Good reflex.”
More pinging from the computer.
“Okay, ladies. Here we go. Lube or no lube? Highest bidder decides.”
I whip my head toward the computer, willing my eyes to see the little windows flying open. It’s no use. Just dings and pings and his laughter.
“Queenhearts wins again. One thousand dollars—no lube!” he calls out, moving behind me.
The thick dildo on the rod behind my ass is pressed between my cheeks. An electric fucking machine. No lube.
I begin to fight, twisting and turning, tugging. Ignoring the pain bursting through every muscle, I wage a war against my binds.
And fail.
His hands pry open my ass cheeks.
I’m splitting in two, being ripped apart. I can’t hold back the sob as the dildo lodges completely inside me. Fire erupts, my vision blacks out, but I’m not given a moment to adjust or absorb it. The machine is turned on, and I’m being fucked by it from behind.
No! NO! NO! I can’t stand it. I won’t survive this. Being prodded and beaten bruises my mind, but this total violation, this utter degradation, scrapes out my insides. I’ll never be whole again.
Over and over, the dildo goes in and out. No matter how much I struggle, it continues.
The pings get faster.
“They’re loving their KenDoll tonight,” he says, tweaking my still-hard cock.
“Now, for the last part.”
Beardman stands in front of me, gripping my hair until I’m facing his groin. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt and shoves down his dirty jeans.
His short, fat, veiny cock emerges from his pants.
I’m going to kill this fucker.
I’m going to kill him.
Kill him.
Kill him.
Eight
Brian
“So, what happened with the mayor’s daughter?” Cathy asks as I accelerate onto the highway.
“It was the deputy mayor’s daughter,” I correct her with a side glance. “And you want to talk about that now?”
She throws her foot over her knee. “We have at least twenty minutes till we get there, and I could use the distraction.”
I get what she means. We aren’t exactly headed toward tea with the queen. We may not know what we’ll find when we get there, but we know it’s going to keep us up at night for months.
“Ella Romero was seventeen. She told me she was twenty-one, and she looked every bit of it. We were at a bar for shit’s sake.” I curse at the slowpoke in front of me and merge to pass. “With all her makeup and the outfit she had on, I swear, she looked of age.”
“You won’t get an argument from me.” She puts her hands up in the air. “I made Sarah change her clothes more than once when she was in high school. I can’t tell you how many Saturday nights that girl was trying to walk out of my house looking like she just graduated college.”
“Exactly.” I point a finger. “Well, she was all over me—you know how it is.”
She gives me a hard eyeroll. “Yeah, I know, you’re a big stud.”
“Right. So, we had a few drinks, then she asked if I could drive her home. Her friends had partnered up for the night. I’m not leaving anyone stranded, so I said sure.”
“Hoping by drive her home she means do the horizontal hustle in her bed.”
I shoot her an incredulous look. “Who the hell talks that way?” I laugh.
She waves a hand. “Never mind. Go on.”
“Any changes from Todd?” I ask, gesturing toward her phone in her lap.
“No. Still the same place. Now, go on.”
She must really need the distraction. This story circulated the station for a month. No way she hasn’t already heard it.
“So, I drove her home.”
“And?” she presses.
“And her fucking father comes out of the house waving his damn hands in the air yelling about where the hell she’d been. And then he saw me in the car.”
“And your lovable face is so memorable,” she adds.
“Yes. He recognized me. And when he smelled the liquor on her breath, he didn’t even bother to listen to anything I said. It didn’t matter that she looked at least twenty-three. She was seventeen, and my career was in the shitter.”
“Yeah, that’d do it. You’re lucky he didn’t take your badge for serving a minor.”
“I didn’t buy her a single drink. She had a tab going at the bar with her daddy’s credit card. Stupid girl.”
Cathy snorts. A shitty story doesn’t deserve much laughter. Especially since she’s probably off on a European cruise for spring break while I’m paying the penance for Ella’s life decisions.
“Okay, take the next exit.” Cathy straightens up in her seat. “It’s a mile and a half from the exit.”
“In a residential area?” Could these assclowns be so bold as to use a house in the middle of suburbia?
“No, industrial.” She opens her screen wider. “Looks like warehouses, office buildings, that sort of thing.”
“Any word from Pierce?”
“Not a peep. Maybe he decided to go without us,” she says.
I take the exit faster than the recommended speed limit.
“Go right,” Cathy navigates for me.
“If I was going to have an underground porn ring, this would be the place to do it,” I say as I take another turn. The buildings are rundown, abandoned.
“The airport wants to expand its runways. They’ve bought most of this land already. There are just a few holdouts,” Cathy explains.
“Call Todd and have him track down the owner of the building.” I slow the car to a roll as we pull in front of the blinking dot. “A print shop.” I park the car across the street. “Where the fuck is everyone?” There’s not a cop in sight. The PD should already be here.
“Pierce says backup’s arriving in ten minutes.”
“Fucking hell. You talked to him almost half an hour ago!” A light flickers from the building, and I cut off my headlights.
“Ten minutes isn’t bad. We’ll wait,” she says.
I blow out my frustration. Images of that girl burn into my brain, playing on a fucking loop. The cuts, the bruises…
“That sick fuck had a razor blade, Cathy. He was going to skin her.” I turn off the ignition.