Page 7 of Slayer

Rescue is our only hope, but no one even knows we’re missing. I have the next four days off and Annie works for the man holding us hostage. We’ll be dead before anyone notices. Even if Mum notices we're gone, she wouldn't do anything.

My cage door opens, and two stocky men walk in. They're deeply tanned, with dark tattoos on their bulging arms, more like pirates than henchmen. Shuffling backwards is awkward and slow. It's also pointless when I'm chained to the centre of the wall. Sure, the chain reaches to every corner of the compact cage, but once they walk to the middle of the room and unlock it, they just walk back out again holding the end. Choosing between being dragged, crawling, or walking, I rise to my feet awkwardly and stumble to the door.

“Let's see how well your brother's pain can loosen your tongue, shall we.” Thayer's words hit me like a hammer, and my legs stop walking. This isn't going to be a playful slap across my backside kind of pain. Oddly enough when my legs stop working, the stocky guys ensure my body doesn't stop moving.

Tiffany just walks to her door like it's her gateway to freedom. She knows it won't be her who gets hurt and that is fine to her. I'm seeing a new side to my sister, but I have to believe she wouldn't do this to me.

I can't believe she would do that to me. She must have a plan. She could name her contact in exchange for our freedom. Maybe she was able to call someone before the goons grabbed her and that's why she isn't worried. Maybe she has people, and they make this guy's impressive set up look like child's play.

That's actually highly unlikely. Annie and I are small fry. All he wants is the name of the man she gives the coke to. That's all. That is the cost of our freedom. Any minute now, Annie is going to confess and negotiate the pair of us free.

“In the chair, if you please.” Knox extends an arm to the chair and Annie heads to it. It's a solid chunky chair, fixed to the ground from the look of it, but I'm sure Annie has a plan. Why else would she be so calm? Any minute now, she'll save us.

Any… minute… now…

Annie sits in the wooden chair. She lets them strap her to the chair at her arms and feet. She does nothing as they fix bands around her middle.

What? Nothing? She didn't even struggle. Does she not understand the severity of the situation?

After Annie's leisurely walk over, I receive none of the same courtesy. I'm just grabbed and dragged over before being thrown to the floor a few metres from Annie's feet. The chain from my wrists is fixed to a ring in the floor, I'm not going anywhere. I know what's happening, Annie is in the interrogation spot and I'm the incentive.

“Let's start this like civilised people, shall we?” Knox stands right behind me, his eyes burning against my back as I crouch here. “I am Knox Thayer, heir to the Thayer cartel.” My back stiffens, oh fuck. I’ve heard of the Thayer cartel; I know this man's reputation. Knox is the most notorious of all the Thayers. I've heard stories of how he's earned the nickname Slayer. I don't just lap-dance, I listen too.

“I am not a nice man, and certainly not someone you want to trifle with. So tell me who you are stealing my drugs for, and the pair of you don't need to get hurt.”

“No comment.” Annie mutters, her eyes fixed on me. After so long trying to get her attention, now I don't want it.

“No comment?” Knox laughs. “This isn't a press conference or police interrogation. Either you tell me, or I start removing body parts.”

He means my body parts. A whimper escapes around my gag. I don't know how to process this. My head just keeps shaking no as I try to beg Annie with my eyes to just tell them the truth.

Knox's footsteps move closer with a strange crunch on the cold metal floor. His shiny shoes hide steel caps, or a hidden knife. He stops behind me, fear prevents me from looking around, but I don't need to see as his hand trails down my spine. “You wouldn’t want your precious brother here to be hurt for no reason would you?” His nose trails up my neck as he takes a deep inhale. “Unless you like a little pain.” I couldn't stop the shiver that runs up my spine if I tried. “That's what I thought,” he says with a quiet chuckle.

“Just tell me the name, honey. Pretty little things like the pair of you don't have to be cut up to be hurt.” His hand travels down my chest, over the thin t-shirt that does nothing to keep me warm. His finger lingers across my peaked nipple before continuing down across my waist. I know exactly what he's implying. It's a terrifying proposition, but I can convince myself it would be OK if it was him. I just wish it was under different circumstances. I've always had an unhealthy attraction towards men who are bad for me. My sister is clearly in the same boat. Whoever her contact is, she is obviously more loyal to him than me.

“Not giving the name isn't nice.” Knox moves past me, blocking my view of my sister. “Maybe it's too hard to answer. We should start with something easier. Are you dealing in my city?”

She won't even answer that. I murmur desperately against the gag for Knox's attention. I want his attention on me, so he won't hurt my sister. Definitely not because I'm jealous.

Damn it, it works. Knox turns and heads back to me; I'm not sure how I feel about this. Especially when he gets on his knees behind me. Right behind me. His hand presses over my mouth, forcing my head back against his shoulder. As his grip tightens, I can't breathe properly. Not that my brain seems to care, my focus is more on the hand sliding down to my groin.

“There are so many bad things we could do to you if you don't start answering my questions.” His hand tightens around my cock, massaging it through my clothes.

This isn't fair; this is not the time to feel floaty and aroused. Certainly not with all these people watching me. The need to breathe gets stronger but no one does anything. Panic starts to build as I realise he isn't going to stop. I have no value to him; he has no incentive to keep me alive. I'm going to die here under my sister's gaze, as she just sits there with the key to stop all of this, but still says nothing. She just sits there watching as if it’s a normal day. Does she not realize when I’m dead, he'll torture her. That can't be how this is going to end. I struggle just a little, twisting in his grip. Still unable to draw in enough air, my struggling gets more frantic. My body thrashes without purpose, but the hands remain unhindered. Even when my legs work their way out from under me, the grip on my cock remains.

Death is imminent, and I'm going to leave this world with a fucking boner.

And then he stops.

Relief is instant as the hand drops from my mouth to my shoulder. My lungs fill with air, and somehow it makes me cough. I collapse forward onto the ground. Gasping and trying not to choke on my spit.

There is nothing sexy about being tied up and molested by a sexy villain while choking publicly. Nothing. So why is my cock so god-damn hard?

six

Knox

PoorlittlePorterlieson the floor, coughing like he didn't enjoy that show of power. He loved every second of it until the end. I felt the moment when it changed from sexual to panic, and that's when I released him. I know he wants me to take him in my arms again, to praise what a good boy he was.

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