“What are you doing?” she asks, but I’m already out of the car.
Her hurried footsteps trail behind me as I make my way to the main entrance.
“We should wait.”
“They should have been here,” I growl, pulling my gun from my hip as I try the door.
Locked.
’Cause that would make it too easy.
Keeping close to the building and avoiding the high windows, we make our way around to the back. A loading dock with one truck nestled in the bay. I signal for Cathy to follow me to the open truck door. We climb in, and hot air blows into the cargo hold. I cover my mouth with my sleeve as Cathy coughs behind me. The back door is rolled up, giving view to the inside of the warehouse. Bare, dark, except for a single bulb swinging several feet from the truck.
“Brian, I can’t breathe.” Cathy coughs again, tugging on my jacket. We shouldn’t be here. We should have waited.
“I smell fruit loops,” I say, stumbling forward. I shove at her, miss, and go down to my knees. She’s next to me, coughing and muttering.
“What?” I ask, my voice slurred. Or she’s slurred.
Everything’s wavy and moving.
“Are we moving?”
“I’m so…I can’t…” Cathy collapses in front of me, and I bend lower to check on her, but everything’s dark, and my mind slips away from me.
A hard cough breaks against my ribs, and I wake with a start. Sucking in clean air, I gasp for more.
“Ah, good. Finally fucking awake,” a dark voice chides me.
I blink, trying to clear my vision, but it’s all foggy. My head isn’t any clearer as I focus on the voices.
“Give him another minute. It took a hell of a lot more gas to get him to go down than the girl,” another voice says.
The girl.
Cathy.
I lift my head from the ground.
“Cathy.” My voice is scratchy and hurts my throat.
“She’s here, don’t worry,” the first voice says. A sharp smack against flesh draws my attention. We’re in a large room. The walls are white, pristine, but the floor has no coverings. I’m lying on cold concrete, Cathy draped over a bench to my left. She’s naked.
“Cathy!” I try to get to her, but my muscles give out, and I crumble down again.
Muffled cries sound from her direction.
“She can’t talk right now,” the second voice explains, and another smack resounds from him hitting her bare ass.
A deep red welt crosses her ass cheeks, matching on her thighs. Lighter marks trail up and down her thighs and ass. They’ve been beating her.
Rage makes my muscles work. I stumble forward, only to have a boot land in my stomach. I roll to my side, wrapping my arms around my middle.
The cold floor seeps into my skin as I suck in as much air as my body will allow until the pain subsides. Boots scratch along the concrete until they appear before my face.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” the first voice says, his tone hard and angry. “You don’t listen to directions though, do you?” He nudges my shoulder with his toe.
I jerk away from him, shaking my head. Whatever they used to knock us out is clogging my thoughts.
“Cathy, are you all right?” I call to her, ignoring the asshole for a minute.
“She’s doing just fine, aren’t you, sweetheart?” the second voice says with so much saccharine, I chance looking at her.
He’s rubbing her head with his hand while smothering her face into his groin.
“You fucker!” I lurch for her, but that fucking boot knocks me down again.
Panicked sounds erupt from behind Cathy’s gag as she strains against the ties holding her down.
“Leave her alone!” I scream, but it comes out garbled. Fuck.
“Let’s go, lover boy.” Strong arms tuck under my pits before I’m hauled to my feet. Pulling forward is useless with the drugs still in my system. I can’t get away from him.
“Bossman, his cock isn’t ready.” Disappointment underlies the second man’s complaint.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” I’m tugged forward, my bare feet scraping against the ground.
Air licks at my skin. All of my skin. My cock lies limp and exposed, just like the rest of me.
Bossman drags me to Cathy and tosses me like a rag doll over her ass. My hands slam onto the bench, and my pelvis hits her beaten ass. The impact makes her squeal.
“Get your cock hard, boy,” Bossman orders, but he might as well have told me to introduce him to God.
“I…no…” I push off the bench, trying to scramble off Cathy as a boot kicks into my ass. My cock lurches between her ass cheeks. I’m limp, but my cock pushes between her ass cheeks, like a smooshed hotdog inside a bun.
She goes rigid beneath me, her ass cheeks clenching around me.
They want me to fuck her.
Oh god.
“Brian!” Cathy cries out as soon as her tormentor rips the gag from her mouth.
“See, now she can scream for you. Get your cock ready.” Electricity zaps my back, and I jump. “Stroke yourself,” he orders, and another shock shoots through me.
“Fuck! Stop!” I turn, but he’s there, zapping and shocking me until I’m finally firm on my feet.
“Go on!” He aims the prod at my stomach, and I twist away just before the shock touches skin.
“Okay!” I put my hand out to ward him off and use my left hand to grab my dick. Nothing is going to wake my cock up, not with Cathy crying and the pain coursing through my body.
“That’s it. Good boy. Once you’re ready, you’re going to fuck her ass.” He moves in front of me, and I finally get a clear view of his face. Round, perfectly round, with fat pushing his eyelids nearly closed.
“I’m not…no!”
“Sure, you are,” the bearded man says in that sweet tone of his. The air burns my lungs.
Bearded man points a gun at Cathy.
“Wait. No.” I jerk my cock, harder, faster. Please! Please get hard!
He smacks her again and again with the knotted rope in his hand, lashing at her back.
“Stop it!” I scramble forward again, and a jolt of electricity burns into my thigh, paralyzing the muscles. “Fuck!”
“Better hurry up,” the bearded man says, pulling the hammer back.
Cathy’s head jerks up at the sound.
“Brian. It’s okay…it’s okay, just do it. It’s okay.” Fear drips from her plea.
My cock starts to react, and I stand behind her.
“Cathy.” I beg for anyone to make this stop. My cock softens again, but I tug harder. I clench my eyes, shutting off the view of her beaten ass. She whimpers softly, and I shake my head, trying to clear it. My heart beats harder. A bead of sweat rolls down my temple. Panic grips my throat, but I jerk harder and harder. A broken sob breaks loose, and it takes a full second for me to realize it’s coming from me. My cock slacks again.
“Go on.” Another shock to my back, and I ball my hands into fists, punching the bench beneath Cathy.
“Brian. Listen.” She sniffles. “It’s okay. Do it. Do what they say.”
I blink back helpless tears. I have a fucking badge. I have a gun. I have a brown belt for fuck’s sake. How is this happening?