Tuesday, July 2, 2013

FLORIDA Chapter 9



 Zane awoke slowly.  As his vision cleared, his visibility narrow through half open eyes, he could see his arms secured over his head.  His head didn’t hurt, but his thought processes and movements were sluggish.  He knew he’d been drugged, and the memory of being startled by the shot to his back returned.  He glanced around, not moving his head, only his eyes.  He was in what looked like the mechanic bay of a gas station.  The dark night was visible through the windows in the garage bay door.  It smelled of gasoline and motor oil, and stale sweat. 

Zane was breathing heavily through his nose; he realized his mouth was covered with duct tape.  Instinctively he parted his teeth and lips as much as he was able, and began working the moisture of his saliva into the adhesive, to loosen it.  As he glanced down, he saw duct tape similarly binding his ankles, and his shirt was pulled up around his midsection.  His hip holster was empty.  Returning his gaze to his bound wrists, he saw that they were cuffed together, and secured to a piece of the heavy machinery.  His sleeves had been pushed up, the sheaths empty.  Damn, Wes was certainly thorough.  Zane had a dim memory of other men helping, but could really only recall boots and a tugging on his arms.  He rested his head back to the hard concrete floor to wait; only his tongue moving as he tried to work under the duct tape covering his mouth.

Ty sighed, frustrated as he herded his men back into the van.  They had all gotten laid, at least the ones who wanted to, including Ty who had to put on a show of camaraderie with him men.  They hooted and hollered when their Staff Sargeant came bouncing down the stairs afterwards.  He shrugged it off, returning to the dartboard and ordering a final round of pitchers.  As the van started up, he checked his phone for any messages from Zane.  Nothing.  He sent off another text to Zane and Wes to inquire as to what they had seen.  Obviously nothing suspicious, since all his Marines were present and accounted for.  He figured he may as well just enjoy the buzz of a belly full of beer and a set of empty balls.  That would take some explaining to Zane; he knew he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, keep that from his partner.  He had worn a condom, more for his own protection from catching something than anything else.  He wondered idly if that constituted cheating, since it was part of an assignment, as he headed onto the highway back to base.

Nick was struggling.  Gagged and his arms cuffed behind him, he couldn’t do much from the waist up, but his legs were free and he got a couple good kicks in before they tackled him to the bed face down, two men on each of his legs and another practically sitting on his back, crushing his cuffed hands to his lower back painfully.  He felt strong rough hands part his buttocks and forcibly insert something into his hole.  Nick had messed around enough to know it was a plug.  Lubed, but still a big enough plug for its entry to hurt like hell.  He called out through his gag, but the insistent pressure was unrelenting until the wide part passed through his stretched sphincter and the plug settled into position.  Straps were brought up under his butt cheeks and around to his sides.  He was rolled over, his legs still spread.  He looked down his flat tight belly to where his cock and balls were fully exposed.  His last memory had been the doc seeing to his injuries in the brig, after the fight with Grady.  He moaned and lay his head back, relaxing his body, when he saw what his captors were bringing over next.  He didn’t resist as a chastity device was locked onto his cock and balls, only grunting as his big testicles were forced into the device, and his cockhead aimed at the tip so he could piss.  Nick took the opportunity to look around the room as the straps from under his ass were brought around and buckled to the chastity device, to keep everything in place.

Nick tensed, and a cold sheen of sweat broke out on him as he surveyed the room.  SHIT!  There were a dozen spartan metal bedrames like the one he was forcibly being held down upon; each contained a fit man, most of them younger, but all obviously military, all stripped naked and bound up like Nick.  Only difference was their wrists and feet were shackled to the bedframe.  Nick groaned as his feet were similarly secured, then he was forced into a sitting position for his cuffs to be removed and reattached with his arms overhead.  He had fallen prey to the exact kidnapping ring that Wes, Ty and Zane had been brought in to bust.  Where the fuck were those guys?  Nick knew in an instant that the kidnappers had inside help.  No way could be have been transported off a US military base without help.  He just hoped that the FBI and DEA agents were on the trail.  Not so much for himself, but for the young men in the room, staring at him with wide eyes.  A couple of them he recognized as men he had trained over the last few months who had gone missing.  The shock at seeing their Staff Sargeant taken and subjected to the same treatment was visible on their faces.  Once his arms and legs were shackled to the bed, the men who had brought him in turned and left, bolting the metal door behind them.  The room was concrete block, with bars on the small windows placed high on the far wall.  There was nothing to do but wait; the prisoners couldn’t even talk to each other.