Rescuing Melissa (ALPHA TEAM: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists)

51. Dungeon Take Two

FIFTY-ONE

Dungeon Take Two

MELISSA

Melissa squeezed her eyes shut as Scott’s roar of animalistic lust filled the air. But closing her eyes did nothing to keep the image of his bucking hips from her mind. While Pierce finished, Scott zipped his pants and then paced up and down the row of cages, reaching inside to touch the kneeling women, petting their heads and cupping their chins.

She could only imagine what horrors he envisioned when he looked at them and was thankful sturdy metal separated the women from the killer on the outside.

Pierce groaned. His hands gripped the iron so hard his knuckles turned white. His head pressed against the bars as he huffed and seemed to sag.

Silence descended for a time, except for heavy breathing coming from Pierce, but soon that evened out as he regained his composure. His body straightened. His fingers released their death grip on the bars and then moved to zip his fly.

Pierce faced Scott, who knelt before one of the cages.

“You like Cinderella?” Pierce’s voice hitched. “I thought you wanted Goldilocks?”

“I like them all,” Scott said with fascination. “How do you manage them?” Wonder filled Scott’s expression as his gaze swept down the row of cages.

Pierce’s laugh filled the silence. It should have made her shiver or brought on any string of nasty reactions, but the opposite occurred. Pierce’s laughter was out of place, it was confident, sure, and slowed the drumbeat of her heart. He walked toward Scott, dragging his hand over the bars of the cages as he neared.

“I just do. Are you ready for Goldilocks, or do you need a break? Or maybe you want to take care of your wife’s punishment?”

Ex-wife. She was Scott’s ex-wife. Melissa’s stomach clenched.

Scott’s gaze darted across the dungeon and locked on hers. Blackness darker than coal, measured, judged, and reduced her to insignificance.

He waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll get to her later.” He licked his lips. “I, uh…”

Pierce unlocked a cage and pulled out a woman. He stripped her of her clothing with an economy of effort which stunned Melissa, then led her to the wall beside the chained man. The woman shook but didn’t resist. She even assisted the process and lifted her arms to be cuffed. He secured her wrists with handcuffs attached to eye-bolts.

Pierce stepped to the far end of the wall. Implements of torture hung in ordered rows, causing a shiver to work its way down her spine as she took in paddles, crops, floggers, whips, and worse. She clamped her teeth together, fighting against a whimper rising in the back of her throat.

In stark contrast, the woman secured to the wall remained perfectly still and silent, resigned perhaps to what would happen next.

Pierce selected a flogger. He swung it, testing its weight.

“Nice,” Scott murmured. “But I thought you were going to fuck her?”

“Oh, I am,” Pierce said, “but I enjoy it so much better when they scream.” Pierce pointed to the padded bench. “Why don’t you have a seat? Watch for a bit, and when you’re ready, let me know.”

A twisted expression flashed across Scott’s face.

The throws of the flogger flying through the air filled the dungeon with a hiss. Its many tails swished as they went, then collided on flesh with a crack and a very definite scream. Tears slicked Melissa’s face as the bound woman’s cries reverberated in the air with a long ear-piercing shriek.

“Hey,” Scott pointed to the chained man. “You said no whips or canes for your girls, but what about him? I can do whatever I want to him, right?”

Pierce glanced at the bound man. He had fallen silent while Scott and Pierce had pleasured themselves, but he struggled anew once the men’s attention turned back to him.

“I’m not willing to kill him.” Pierce drew back his arm and landed a nasty strike on the back of the woman’s thighs. She screamed, her head thrown back, eyes staring at the ceiling, lungs emptying of air, and filling the room with her pain.

Melissa curled into a ball, seeking solace the only way she could.

“Like it matters,” Scott grumbled.

“I thought you didn’t like men,” Pierce said with a tease in his voice.

“I don’t want to fuck him.” Scott’s lips twisted. “But why can’t I toy with him for a bit?”

Pierce’s eyes narrowed. He walked to the rows of implements and grabbed a flogger, thrusting it toward Scott. “Use this.”

Scott looked at it, turning it over in his hands. “Heavy. I like it.”

Silence.

The terrific weight of the room was suffocating.

Melissa hugged her knees to her chest, holding herself as tightly as she could. She couldn’t bear watching the poor girl tortured. Hearing it was bad enough. The sound of a flogger whistled through the air, generating another scream, this one deep, masculine, and full of agony.

Her eyes flew open, and she silenced her cries, unwilling to draw unnecessary attention to herself. From the nearest cage, the woman motioned her to come to the edge of the bed. The cries of the bound woman masked the noise of her chains, as did the deeper timbre of the man’s screams.

The woman in the cage whispered so low that Melissa had to read her lips to make out what she was saying. “What is your name?”

“Melissa.” Her insides quivered.

“We’re not allowed to speak,” she explained, “we’ll be punished, but…”

Melissa nodded, understanding the need to reach out in the face of this craziness. “Is your name Henrietta?”

The woman’s eyes widened. “How did you know?” She wiped away a tear.

“People are looking for you.”

A light of hope shone in the woman’s eyes. Melissa prayed her faith in CJ held out.

“How long have you been here?”

Henrietta blinked. “I don’t know. A few days, maybe a week? It’s hard to keep track of time down here.” Her voice broke, and a choked sob escaped her lips. “Obey him. Do whatever he asks. If you don’t, you’re not the only one who will suffer.”

“How do we get out of here?”

Henrietta shook her head. “We don’t. Some of these girls have been here for years.”

Melissa flinched each time a scream pierced the air, but it provided cover for their conversation.

“I did this to myself.” Henrietta’s chin dropped to rest on her chin. She choked back a sob.

“We’re going to get out of here.”

CJ was out there, which meant there was hope.

Male and female cries filled the dungeon, promising her a future of similar pain if CJ didn’t hurry up with the hero business. But maybe she needed to figure something out on her own, in case CJ didn’t make it in time.