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Fury by Cat Porter (4)


4


Give the kid a drink!” Med shouted loudly.

The infamous Scott “Medicine Man” McGuire, so named because he’d been one of the first to create meth factories in the state and provide his clients with all kinds of powdered and tablet style feel-good remedies. Med stood over me, eyeing me like I was the Thanksgiving turkey and he’d been waiting a very long time to carve with style and dig in.

A large unlabeled glass bottle was shoved in my mouth. Another hand dug in my hair, tugging my head back. The sickening fumes of sweat, body odor, and burly booze filled my nostrils. The alcohol flooded my mouth like liquid fire, searing my throat. I gagged and sputtered, spitting out whatever I could.

Laughter and howls ripped through the brightly lit smoke-filled room.

I pushed back and spit again, my eyes tearing. “What the fuck was that?”

“Our moonshine. You don’t like it?”

“No.” I blinked and scanned the crowded room. The Guns had company tonight. Another chapter of their club from California was here.

“You rejecting our hospitality? We’re celebrating tonight. We got our bros here from out west, and we just closed a sweet deal.”

Cheers and hoots rose all around me, and I cringed at the noise. Shocking. Nauseating.

“We’ve all decided that we should move on from our differences with your club. Flames of Hell finally got back to us and we reached an agreement. So the other news of the evening is we’re gonna let you go.”

Boos and howls filled the room.

My club had negotiated for me? Something inside me went to leap, but I pulled it back.

Med looked me square in the face. Everything about him was square. Square jaw, square mouth, boxy end to his nose. Stocky, not too tall, no real neck, compact. Leather cuffs at his wrists and a full mop of long wavy brown hair.

I swallowed against the lingering burn in my throat. “What kind of agreement?”

“Prospect, you don’t worry about the details. You just worry about doing what you’re told.” He smacked my face once, twice, and settled a thick paw on my shoulder. “This here party is your send off. You’re gonna have fun. I know we will.”

Sticky laughter bubbled in the giant cauldron of a room. The air was hot, stifling. So many men and women, their eyes gleaming and heavy on me. I searched for Serena, but I didn’t see her in the blur of faces and bodies. I searched for those eyes. I wanted to see her. I needed to see her.

They shoved me forward, and my body swerved toward the other side of the room. Two girls were on top of a long table, both of them getting fucked, a group of men around them watching intently, waiting their turn. Two other girls were on top of another smaller table, both of them fingering and licking each other with a circle of men watching. Something for everybody.

My chains were yanked, and I hit a table.

“Lay him out,” came Med’s voice.

They laid me out on a long wood table and fastened the chains at my hands and legs to big pegs on the surface. Was I part of the entertainment? My heart banged against my ribs. “What the fuck? You just said you were letting me go. You said this shit was done with.”

“Yeah, but tonight, you’re my glorious main event,” he spit out on a huge grin. His ferocious excitement speared my insides.

They partied all around me. For hours they hung over me, putting their cigarettes out on my legs and chest, the sides of my torso. Even the women came over and teased me. “Aw, look at that sad cock! Poor baby!” They laughed. “Here dicky dicky! Here!”

The music banged off the walls, the vibrations radiating through me. They poured more of their moonshine in my mouth and made me swallow with sweaty hands gripping my chin, sealing my lips shut.

The room hushed, and I turned my head toward that voice. Med was talking to his bros. “This little peace treaty between us and the Flames will go into effect tomorrow. I know a lot of you ain’t for it, but it’s the best thing. It’s been a fun time, but we need to focus on business again. Now we voted on it, but to make it stick I think we need something real memorable. Something sweet to seal this deal, so that I know you all will commit to it. So, I think we need more than that show of hands and that round of “ayes” from before. I have a better idea. Baby? Baby, where are you?”

There was movement and shuffling as people parted. A young woman moved though them toward Med, who eyed her like a lion, satisfied and proud.

It was her.

He cupped her chin and planted a kiss on her lips. “Get up on that table, baby.” Another guy hoisted her up onto a small table at her side.

“Y’all know Rena, my old lady. Isn’t she the finest thing?”

Med’s old lady? Serena was Med’s old lady? No. No. No. He was old enough to be her father. He was—

Her eyes found mine. The vibrant eyes I’d been mesmerized by all these days together in the half dark of my cell, were now blank, dull.

“Clothes off, darlin’,” Med said.

Rena swallowed and stripped off her cropped T-shirt and shorts without registering any surprise or shock. She was bare naked underneath. She kept her boots on.

“Ain’t my baby beautiful?” Med rubbed her ass with one hand, in his other he held a cigar.

Murmurs of approval and coughing rose from the onlookers.

“This treaty with the Flames of Hell has to stick. It’s gotta get done and stay done. I want to see your commitment. I want those ayes of yours confirmed.”

Some of the men standing up front shifted their weight, their jaws tightening. A lot of Med’s men made faces, briefly glancing at each other. They didn’t seem to agree with him, weren’t sure what to do. Did his men usually do as they were told to keep the peace or out of fear? Med was that evil beast spawned from cleverness and paranoia.

“Tonight I thought I’d share my little treasure for this special occasion. Show me your dedication to our cause by licking my old lady ‘till she comes.” He squeezed one of her tits, his eyes on his men.

A sudden silence seized the room. Nausea swirled in my gut. A pendulum blade swung past me and back again, taking my breath with it.

Med exhaled a puff of cigar smoke. “‘Cause if you break this treaty, you’ll have gone against my special, personal gift to you, and I’ll be offended.”

Smack. He slapped Rena’s ass with force, and she stumbled forward, steadying herself. The men standing in the front widened their eyes. Others rubbed hands down their faces.

“Consider my offering of my woman’s pussy a real special bond. Y’all are gonna think twice before breaking that, ain’t ya?” He laughed hard.

He was fucking insane.

An icy silence descended on the smoke-filled room. Rena lifted her gaze to mine, and a chill swept through my veins.

He smacked her ass again, and she jolted forward, biting down on her lower lip. “Get down and spread those legs, honey.” Rena’s chin lifted slightly, and she laid down on the table. Med rested a hand on her bent knee, stroking her thigh up and down. “Who says Aye now?”

“Aye!” voices rang out.

The music got louder, and my lungs squeezed tighter. Men from the California chapter gathered around Rena.

Med slapped a heavyset bearded man on the shoulder like he’d done to me earlier. The guy leaned down between her legs, and her whole body twisted on the table.

“Aye!” the guy next to him grunted, his eyes intent on his buddy’s moves.

Her eyes were intent on me.

My pulse thudded in my veins. If I could help her somehow, if I could make them stop, if I could make this all go away for her.

Her body stiffened, her eyelids closed. Was she coming?

The man jerked up off her, his hands in the air, his lips shiny. “Fuck yeah! Aye!”

Rena’s legs shook slightly and sagged to the side.

The men around him clapped. A bottle of booze was tipped between her legs, and she winced, her body straining. The liquor ran over the table, splatting on the floor. A puddle formed below her.

“Next!”

The eager guy on the side took over, a hand squeezing her tit hard. He rolled his head, made faces, making the men around him laugh and clap. Another man. Another. They were into it now. One by one, they were all putting on their show of allegiance, indulgence.

“Stop it! What the fuck are you doing?” raged out of my mouth loud and clear.

An eyebrow jumped on Med’s face. “Pardon me?” he said, his tone sarcastic.

Muttering and moans filled the room along with the thump thump of hard rock music against the walls.

“Boy, you got a mouth on you, huh?” Med laughed loudly.

Rena whimpered, and the guy jacked up from her, hands in the air. He grabbed the liquor bottle and poured some over her pussy. He took a swig from the bottle.

Rena’s eyes pleaded with me. No. Don’t.

“What’s your fucking problem, Kid? She’s coming non-stop. What woman don’t love that?”

More laughter.

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe you want in too?”

The laughter fizzled as Med moved toward me, eyes pinned. “Who’s next?” Med asked his men, his eyes remaining on me.

The next Smoking Gun pulled Rena’s hips down further on the table.

Med approached me. “You still ain’t showing me proper humility, Kid, and I don’t like that. Tells me you’re a hard nut to break. You sure don’t tell me what I’m gonna do and how I’m gonna do it with what’s mine.”

His hands grabbed my neck and squeezed, crushing my throat. I choked, fighting for air, fighting against the blinding pain radiating through me, shutting me off, shutting me down. My arms pulled against my chains, my muscles quivering, shaking to break free. His eyes bulged. “In here, you are mine, you piece of shit! Same as her.”

He released me, and I saw stars. I sputtered, gasping for air. My throat burned and ached.

Med gestured with his cigar at Rena. “She does as she’s goddamn told. I think you need to learn your place before tonight is done. Tape his mouth up.”

Rip. Duct tape stretched across my mouth, motor oil stained fingers pressing down on either sides of my face.

“Watch and see how it’s done, boy.”

The next guy bent over Rena, grinning up at his buddies as he lapped at the liquor between her legs. Her head twisted and she turned her face, her eyes finding mine again, and I held them.

I’m here, Serena. Fuck him, fuck them all. We’ll get through this together. Do not give up. Don’t. Stay with me. With me. Me. Me. Me.

Man after man after man after man. Poking, licking, grabbing, sucking, smacking. She only stared at me, and me at her. From that first instant, and the long brutal seconds ticking into minutes, we drowned out the cannibals and their drums of war, and there was only me and her.

Only me and her.

I tucked her inside me, held her in the deepest chamber of my heart, in the dark vault of my soul where I’d never lingered too long before. No one could touch us there. Just us holding onto each other. Shielding each other, breathing together. Coming together.

You and me, I insisted. I grit my teeth, my gums aching.

Serena, I called out to her. You and me.

Yes, she replied. You and me.

The party played on around us. We were the entertainment, the spectacle in this binge of raunch and insanity.

Med polished off a bottle of rum and smashed it on the floor. Yeah, he was a real fucking pirate king.

He wiped at his mouth, staring at me. “Flame Boy! I figure I can’t let you go home without a little something to remember us by, now can I? Otherwise, our time together will have been meaningless and it won’t be a lasting lesson for the Flames of Hell, now will it?” His men cheered him on, bottles of alcohol were raised in the air. “You know, they didn’t give too much of a shit about you. They played it real cool about getting you back, and that pissed me the fuck off. Your disrespectful attitude before pissed me off all over again.”

“Show him what we’re made of! Do it, Med!” someone shouted out. “Fucking Flame!”

“You’re gonna be set free first thing in the morning.” He tapped a thick finger on my forehead. “But tonight you’re still mine.”

“Yeah! He’s ours!” someone shouted.

“I need you to be a living, breathing reminder of this clusterfuck for your club. A reminder of their need to respect me. Like the White House is a reminder of America’s power, like the Statue of Liberty is a reminder of liberty or whatever the fuck. Point is, people look at those symbols, and they get these feelings. No words needed, no explanations, no blah blah blah.”

My brain couldn’t register his pompous babble. A politician enjoying the mob’s attention.

His eyes creased as he ran a hand down his chest, slanting his head to a bro next to him. “Get her.”

Rena was released from her table and brought over to me. She stumbled, blinked, her gaze glued to Med.

“Climb on him. Do him, baby. I need him happy.”

She clambered up on the table, settling between my legs. Up this close, I saw the bite marks over her chest, the welts on her swaying breasts and her thin pale thighs. Her hand cupped my balls firmly, and I hissed in air.

“Get in there, bitch.” Med shoved her face down between my legs, and her mouth immediately swallowed my cock, sucking it all the way down her throat.

My breath stuttered.

I wanted to fight it, but I couldn’t. I wanted not to respond to their taunts and games. But her mouth was all I knew. Her mouth was everything. I hardened for her immediately, my pelvis bucking. My body electrified and surrendered to her without a second’s hesitation.

For it.

For her.

For it.

I didn’t fucking know anymore, and my need was one and the same now, all of it Serena.

I lost her mouth and my head shot up.

Med was at her side, trash talking in her ear, his hand at her throat. She was pale as snow, biting down on her lip. He let go of her, and she straddled me and took my cock in her cunt.

Dreams come true when you least expect it.

But this wasn’t what I’d wanted.

Our eyes locked on each other’s as she moved over me, hips rocking, taking me in deeper and deeper the way I’d been imagining. The air left me in a rush, my chest constricted. Whoops and shouts broke out around us.

Whatever we’d shared before in the darkness of my cell was beautiful compared to this. This ugliness out in the harsh light, so many people watching us, breathing over us. This forced, mechanical—

Med cupped one of her tits. “Yeah, that’s it, baby, ride him. Ride him good and hard. And don’t fuckin’ stop.”

Smack.

Her body jerked under his assault, and she rode me faster. Trained and obedient. He gripped her ass, controlling her movement. Her neck stiffened, her jaw tight, but those incredible, fierce blue green eyes held my gaze.

The crowd didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Just her and me. Μe in her.

I pulled on my chains, my hips driving into hers. I pumped inside her silken heat with whatever energy I could muster. My arms were being stretched out, my hands were being tugged on. Flattened against the table. No! Now I only wanted to touch her, feel her flesh come alive, fill my hands with her.

Fill, give, take, soar.

Her eyes widened. Fear.

The spring and press of metal.

My brain blanked.

My body went numb.

Blood spattered on Serena’s bare skin. My blood. Red on her breasts, her stomach.

My flesh caught on fire.

I howled.

Laughter.

A bloody object was held in the air and tossed on my bare chest. My eyes struggled to focus on it. My finger. He chopped off my middle finger.

No, no don’t look. She pleaded with me through the storm and rode and rode.

A large nipper tool was held in the air then dove on the other side of me. Grips tightened on my other arm, my wrist, my fingers.

Spring. Press. Crack. Crunch.

My vision blurred, everything whitened. Another nudge on my chest. I blinked. Another finger. My eyes went to my right hand. My middle finger was missing, the ugly wound bled and bled. More blood pooled on my chest and splattered over her hands pressing down on me.

A claw in my hair, rum breath in my face. “Your club said fuck you to us.” My bloodied, cut off finger dangled in front of me. “Now we’ve taken that away so you’ll never forget. Respect, for the Smoking Guns. Respect!” Med roared, dropping my finger on my chest.

His crowd roared back, “Respect!”

My two bloody fingers stared at me from my chest. I shuddered, trembled. So cold, so cold.

She rode me. Her eyes glazed, her lips parted, my blood smattered all over her pale skin.

Stay with me, Kid. Stay with me.

“Cauterize that shit! Don’t want him to bleed out on us now. I still got more fun planned here.”

Searing hot metal burned at my raw flesh. I choked on the stench, twisted at the flare of pain, my back arching off the table.

“Bitch, get off him. Suck on that cock now. I want it up, way the fuck up.”

“Wake his cock the fuck up!” came a shout. Hooting and more clapping filled my ears.

Through the blur, the heat released me, and I let out a groan. A different kind of heat enveloped my cock, taking it in, demanding from it. I raised my head a fraction. Through my blurred vision, Serena’s head bobbed between my legs. Her slim hand at my base rubbed, another at my balls stroked. My head sank back. Binding and pulling on my hands. Men wrapped up my bleeding wounds where my middle fingers once were.

My fingers.

The pain hammered through me fresh and boiled in my arms, my shoulders. She pulled at me. A whirlpool of nausea and dizziness and madness spun me loose. My head dropped to the side, and the tape was ripped off my mouth. My insides heaved, and I threw up.

“I need creativity. A flare, here.” Med spun around, facing his audience. “Anyone?”

“Anything I want?” another voice piped up.

“What do you got?” asked Med.

My strained, cloudy vision found Serena’s flushed face, her wide eyes the most supernatural blue green I had ever seen. I clung to them. They were my lush jungle, my flowing river, flowing me out of this fume-filled hell and into her blue green Garden of Eden.

Stay with me, her eyes said.

Yes, yes. With you, I replied.

Hands held down my head to the left, and I lost her. My heart pounded as I got harder in her mouth. Harder and harder. My cock throbbed and I came, I came into my haven, that mouth. Serena’s fingertips dug into my legs.

A sharp sting lashed my cheek. A glint of steel flashed over me.

They’re cutting me!

Another searing sting.

Hands turned my head to the other side.

The slashes carved on my skin stung and blared with pain. I held back the scream, held it back with every ounce of grit and resolve I had left in me. The coppery taste in my mouth, a thickness on my tongue. My blood. So many eyes loomed over me, grins, bitter hate and bitter fun all swirled into a lunatic kaleidoscope.

“You scribble good with that knife, bro!” Med said. “What pretty, pretty F’s, huh?”

“From now on, no more fuck yous from the Flames,” replied the scribbler. He let out a rich, rolling laugh that ended in a fit of coughing.

Serena was pulled off me, and I was exposed. Cold. Alone. Decimated.

I gave in.

I screamed.