Conclusion
I came to with pain at both ends. I was coming around because I was having my face slapped hard—and I couldn't seem to be able to reach out to ward off the blows. That was because my hands were tied together at the wrists and my arms were drawn over my head and attached to a hook behind me. The pain on the other end was because I was naked and Jake Holt, aka Derek Dominick, was standing between my spread thighs and already had his dick up my channel and was beginning to pump hard.
"Ah, awake, are we?" he said with a sneer. "You don't mind if we have a little farewell fuck, do you? I meant it when I said I wanted to get more intimate with you—and you won't have all that long to care one way or the other."
I struggled, but he had me trussed up very well and my mouth was gagged with some sort of oily rag that was sending pungent fumes up my nostrils and digging at my sinus walls. The back of my head was throbbing from where I'd been clubbed, and both my arms and legs were already beginning to cramp from the awkward positions they were restrained in.
We were near the corrugated iron ceiling of the warehouse, on some sort of mezzanine that jutted over the warehouse floor. The area we were in had medical office equipment strewn around, no doubt props for some past or future Theo Kline production—although Theo was dead now; there would be no more Theo Kline productions. My mind was wandering off—a defense mechanism—but I was near hysteria. I needed to pull myself back. I dug my fingernails into the palms of my already-numb hands—trying to shock myself back into focus. I didn't have to hold out forever; just until Gordon could guide the police here.
Jake had somehow dragged me up a metal staircase onto the overhead mezzanine—no doubt with a lot of bumping against railings for my part, because I felt bruised all over. He had found a medical examination table with foot stirrups and all, and I was lying on my back on this with my arms bound above me, a cinched-off strap around my torso and under my pecs that held me to the padded surface of the table, and my feet in stirrups that held my legs up and spread out from the end of the table.
Jake was having the time of his life mining the inside of my channel with his cock, taking me rough and deep. In other circumstances, I would have thoroughly enjoyed this, because he was a master of the fuck and was finding every sensitive nook and cranny that I knew existed in my love canal—and then some I'd never been aware of before now.
He either was pantless or they were down around his knees, but he was still wearing his sport shirt, spread open, revealing a well-developed chest and washboard stomach. I couldn't see his cock, but I certainly could feel it, and he was mining me at such a depth that I knew it was quite presentable. His shirt was torn at his left shoulder and there was drying blood at the edges of the tear. He was favoring that arm as he maintained a pounding rhythm of his pelvis and pinched and prodded my chest with his other hand when he wasn't slapping me on the face or the butt cheeks. Sam had gotten a piece of him when he'd managed to fire off the shot I'd heard.
The space up here was cramped and the fumes from the rag in my mouth were nauseating. I was near to passing out again. But I couldn't let myself do that. This was a man who had helped in the murder of a friend and former lover and also in the murder of the man who had opened my whole world of man-to-man sex up for me. I couldn't just pass out and let him off me too and then get away before the cops arrived and assumed Sam was the only one they sought. I had to rally whatever energy I could to do something—anything to hold him off until the cavalry arrived.
It was cramped up here on the mezzanine, and the ceiling seemed so low that a claustrophobe would be in a panic. Well, there was every reason for me to be in a panic too. And the adrenaline from panic could be mustered to both sharpen the survival instinct and coalesce strength. There was little room behind Holt to the railing overlooking the warehouse floor below, and the railing appeared to be of wood and not all the sturdy.
