*** Disclaimer ***
The following installment contains themes of hypnosis, mind control, non-consent, voyeurism, rough sex, gangbangs, cheating, and incest. You've been warned.
This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Hollow Pleasure chapter 12
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THE OFFICE
"When did you last see them?" Captain Graver folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned against the edge of the conference table.
Galloway, Ethan, and Danni sat in a nervous trio. Their faces were that of three kids that had been sent to the principal. Their expressions were masks of humility, shame, and anxiety.
"Not since this morning," Galloway admitted. The sun was starting to go down, and Halley and her team still weren't back yet. The day had passed at a snail's pace. It had been torture waiting to hear anything back. And each hour that went by with no news, only made their fears that much worse. No news meant bad news.
Graver's face was neutral, eerily so. That threw her. His handsome face was normally very sincere. Especially his large blue eyes. Kind eyes. They say that the eyes are a window to the soul, and with him, Galloway finally understood what that meant. Her captain had a terrible poker face. She had always been able to see the gears turning in his head, or see what was on his mind just from a simple glance. If he was pissed, upset, happy, or disappointed, it was obvious to her and everyone around her. But the other thing that he was known for was becoming oddly calm when things were at their worst. That transparency in his face clouded over, and there was nothing but a wall of what Galloway would describe as "relaxed stoicism".
Graver had always been that way, even when they were young. A life and death incident where uncertainty would cause Galloway to freeze, Graver would trudge into it without a care in the world and a 'follow me, everything is going to be alright' approach. And that attitude always made Galloway feel better, always made her follow him. That was why she was glad he was now her boss.
Like her, Graver had been another casino survivor from years ago. Back then, he'd been a broken man, sincere to his core, but that place had done a number on him mentally. He'd been fortunate enough to quit a few days before... the incident. Galloway found herself gently rubbing the gunshot scar on her shoulder in remembrance of that ill-fated robbery attempt. But Graver had quit for different reasons that were no less traumatic. The wicked sickle-shaped scar beside his left eye was proof of how unpredictable that job could be.
Now that scar was crinkled ever-so-slightly as he pondered his next course of action. He didn't look angry. That bothered Galloway more than anything. God dammit, why couldn't he just get mad and yell at her? Four men were missing because of her! Including their boss (and Graver's fiancée). Halley wasn't reckless. Her lack of communication, answering her phone, or checking in meant that something had happened. This whole op had gone off the rails. Their effort to seize Rob's computer and put an end to his control over the minds of his neighbors had fallen completely silent. That could only mean one thing: Rob had gotten to them.
The implications ran deep. Galloway shivered to think that her friends and coworkers were now part of Rob's deviant harem, subjected to whatever perversion crossed his mind. The fact that Halley, who Galloway looked up to and respected, was probably somewhere right now, dressed like a street whore and behaving like a depraved slut. Halley was a cute woman. What kind of awful things was Rob making her do? How many filthy punks was she being forced to pleasure...?
Was Galloway actually getting turned on by that thought? She shook her head, ignoring the tingle between her legs.
Graver was probably wondering the same thing. They had told him everything about Rob and that apartment. And while Graver hadn't said anything to the contrary, Galloway wasn't sure how much he believed them.
"Alright," he said finally, his big arms still folded. "We need to find them, that's for damn sure. But I'm not going to risk any more men. So we're going to do this ourselves."
"You're not pissed off at me?" Galloway asked nervously. Part of her was sort of hoping for the tongue lashing. She was the cause of all of this, and she fully expected a punishment. "You're not going to go off on me?"
"How would that help?" He cocked his eyebrow.
She shrugged.
"It wouldn't." Graver said, then redirected them back to the issue at hand. "It sounds like you're already made. So I'm going to go in and find my own answers. Take what you need from the armory and I want you waiting off the property but close enough that you can come to assist. If this guy really can do the things that he can, I want you out of sight, out of mind. I want him to assume you're far far away and you aren't coming back. If you're in the building, he can work his magic and stop us. If you're a few blocks away on standby, you can back me up."
Galloway looked at Danni and Ethan, sitting nervously by. Danni was chewing the draw string of her hooded sweatshirt. Ethan flashed her an encouraging smile, though he looked just as afraid as she did. "If we're doing this alone, there's so many things that can go wrong, you know."
"It already went wrong," Graver replied. "I'll call you if I find anything, or subdue our suspect. If you don't hear from me in an hour, do whatever you feel is necessary. Bring in every unit we have, bring in the municipal police."
Captain Graver stood, casually stretched a kink from his neck, and started out of the room. His heavy boots thumping on the floor boards.
"This is a shitty idea," Ethan whispered nervously.
Before he stepped out, Graver paused and glanced back at them. He threw them a little smile and a wink. "Everything will be just fine," he said, then headed to the armory.
His expression was still stoic and unreadable. Clearly, he was still in damage control mode, and that scared Galloway.
***
THE CONNELLY APARTMENT
Captain Graver found himself staring up at Galloway's apartment with a small needle of dread. He had seen it before but had never really looked at it. The first impression that it made was one of grandness. It loomed over the street with its large porch, its turret and spires, and intricate Victorian fixtures. It knocked your socks off to see something so historic. But once that initial impression wore off, it just looked ugly. The beauty was hollow, because behind that façade, it held dark and dirty secrets.
The night did nothing to quash those feelings. The orange glow of the street lamps reflected from its dark surface, making the building appear drab. Lights were on inside. And from the third floor turret windows, orange flicker flame Halloween candles, and a flashing strobe light gave the impression of a mad scientist hard at work. And maybe there was.
Graver didn't like that. The lights on upstairs meant something, and it couldn't be good.
He glanced at the street one last time. Somewhere a few blocks back, Galloway and the kids were waiting. They were his backup, and that also made him uneasy. Galloway was a formidable force, and he trusted her. But she was also looking out for Ethan and Danni. True, they were both over 18 and college aged, but given their lack of training, and their fear... it was hard to see them as anything but frightened kids. As much as he wanted to send them some place safe, they were his lifeline and he needed all the help he could get.
Not wanting to stall any longer, he climbed the front steps.
The hallway was dark and quiet. There was an innocence about it that made Graver momentarily second guess everything. For a brief moment, he considered if it was really Galloway who'd gone off the deep end. Things like mind control were completely fictitious. And the reality was, he was standing in the middle of an apartment hallway in combat gear, fatigues and boots. Graver was aware that he looked slightly out of place. He was grateful he'd had the presence of mind to throw a field jacket on to help conceal his pistol.
He moved past the first sets of apartment doors— 1A on the right, 1B on the left, and continued deeper. He tried to keep his footfalls light, but the thin carpet runner did very little. The floor boards creaked and protested with each step he took, sounding incredibly loud.
He had made it as far as the base of the staircase before a door opened behind him. "Oh shit," he swore to himself.
"Oh!" a girl was standing there, looking startled by his appearance. She couldn't have been much older than 18 or 19. She was cute. Short and pale, with a splash of freckles across her face, and curly red hair that fell across her shoulders. She goggled at him behind thick framed glasses. Despite her short stature, she was on the thicker side, and it was made all the more apparent by her outfit. She was wearing a pair of cut off Daisy Dukes that looked more like a bikini bottom. They revealed all of her thick white thighs and showed off the curves of her big butt. Her tummy swelled slightly over the top of her waist band. She was wearing a button down shirt, but the shirt was hardly buttoned. Just the middle three buttons were done. Her pale belly showed, and her impressive cleavage was visible— her enormous breasts practically pouring out. Not that it was her fault, necessarily. She was so well endowed that any shirt or sweater the poor girl wore would have looked slutty. Graver had heard of extreme bra sizes before, and it was very likely this red-head's cup size went deep into the alphabet, far beyond the coveted D-cup. Even Graver, for as determined as he was, caught himself noticing her breasts. It was hard not to, they were bigger than his head.
Her outfit was just a little too revealing for her body, although she wasn't an unattractive girl by any means. She was just very real looking. She was cute in a meek, innocent, mousy sort of way.
Graver was suddenly aware of how he must look to her. He was standing in the middle of a dark hallway at night in black camouflage, like a commando in a cheesy B-movie. Between that and his facial scar, he had probably put quite the fright into this kid.
She laughed nervously. "Sorry... I just heard you and thought you were the pizza guy." She blushed a bit.
"No, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, flashing a smile to hopefully ease her tension so she didn't freak out. "I was just looking for—"
Her expression changed. "Oh! You're with that group!"
"Group?" Graver asked.