Call Sign: Thunder

by Livia Grant

  He reclined her slightly, thankfully making it harder for her to look around the room. That wasn't too bad.

  It was when her legs started to spread wider while simultaneously moving her knees up and in that she could no longer hold in the scream. The asshole was spreading her body open as if it were a smorgasbord for the men present to feast on.

  She let loose a bloodcurdling scream that filled the open space. She fought her restraints in vain, unable to do more than bring more pain to the places on her body that came in contact with the unforgiving metal.

  Through her frustrated tears she saw the taller brother, Ricardo, sitting comfortably only ten feet away. He smoked his cigar and sipped on a cup of coffee like he was watching the morning news. Only the perverted excitement in his eyes betrayed him as the sadist he clearly was.

  Ricardo grinned as he spoke. "Lucky for you I enjoy your screams, although you waste your energy. There is no one here who will help you. Scream all you like. It only makes me harder for you."

  Hatred consumed her. If she got out of this alive, she would beg her father to use all of the power at his disposal to be sure to wipe that fucking smile off his damn face.

  Allison had been focused only on Ricardo, so the pinprick in the crook of her secured left arm surprised her. She looked to her left to see the older brother, Carlos, now in a white lab coat, syringe in hand, which he held against her skin. He may pretend to be a doctor of sorts, but she saw him for exactly what he was. A fucking asshole.

  He drew several vials of blood. She wondered why they would need her blood, but decided it wasn't important enough to care about.

  He stepped away from her and a full-body shiver raced through her from head to toes. The evening was warm, the warehouse oppressively hot with no air conditioning, yet the adrenaline-filled humiliation was messing with her internal body thermometer.

  Allison closed her eyes, trying to shut out what was happening to her. She forced herself to breathe the deep, calming breaths she used when she did yoga. In the quiet of her mind, she thought of her dad and friends, and prayed she'd see them again. She remembered how silly she'd been to go anywhere alone, and prayed her friends Kathy and Ken would alert the authorities to her predicament. Surely they would be able to rescue her.

  The pinch of another needle in her wrist had her eyes flying open. She couldn't see her wrist but she knew Carlos was pressing the plunger, injecting her with a drug she wanted no part of experiencing. The chemicals burned as they hit her bloodstream and her left wrist was on fire. She cried out in pain.

  "Tell me, carina, does it hurt?"

  He could keep his damn term of endearment to himself. She bit her tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing it hurt like a bitch.

  "You are privileged to be the first to test direct injection into the blood stream. My other test subjects ingested the drug orally." He turned to a studious looking man next to him who was carrying a clipboard. "Mark the time. I begin."

  Carlos crouched down between her legs, his face only inches from her spread pussy. He spoke clinically, his assistant scratching his words on the clipboard.

  "Wetness level is low, at a two." He took a small measuring stick out and held it against the hood of her clit. "Observance of pleasure nub shows no swelling at this time." The damn ruler brushed her skin as he pulled it away and a zing of something she didn't want to think about surged through her private parts.

  She felt the finger at the entrance to her pussy before it was inserted. "No resistance to vaginal digital entry." He moved his long finger in a circular motion. "No evidence of hymen found. Subject is not a virgin."

  Allie wished she'd closed her eyes before the exam had started because she had the displeasure of seeing the disappointment on Ricardo's face as he heard he would not be the first to defile her body.

  She closed her eyes, unable to maintain a visual connection with anyone in the room there to witness her humiliation.

  Relief at feeling the digit removed from her pussy was short-lived when the now lubricated finger pressed against her most private hole. She groaned in misery as the pressure from the thick digit increased until she felt its violation as it popped through the tight ring of her anal muscles. She bore down hard, trying her best to eject the unwanted intruder, helpless when it pressed deeper.

  "Anal cavity is extremely tight. Suspect subject is anal virgin."

  Ricardo's accented voice reached her ears. "Is that true? Are you an anal virgin, Miss Benson?"

  She held her lips together in a tight line of defiance. They may be able to do as they wished to her body, but she didn't need to answer them. She didn't need to help them plan their mistreatment.

  The line of fire on her exposed inner thigh was immediate. Tears sprang to her eyes and her throat became raw from the scream wrenched from her. When she opened her eyes, an angry Ricardo had replaced his brother between her legs. In his hand she saw a two-foot long, two-inch wide strap of worn leather. Her eyes flew to her inner thigh to find a matching two-inch wide stripe across her flesh. It was already welting, inflamed from the powerful strike.

  "You will obey me. One way or the other. It is up to you how many painful lessons you will require before you've learned." She hated this man with every ounce of her body. He smiled again, knowing he had the upper hand. "I'll ask again. Are you an anal virgin?"

  She wanted to lie, knowing he would take joy in the truth, but she was too afraid of him to maintain her defiance. "Yes." Her voice was raw from screaming.

  "Very good. I'll be happy to take care of that for you."

  "Step back, Ricardo. I need to continue my baseline observations."

  For ten more minutes, Carlos and his assistants poked and prodded her every body part. Taking her pulse, blood pressure, and even measuring her pupil dilation. It was when his hands cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples and describing their size and color in embarrassingly accurate detail that the first twinge of hunger registered.

  She snapped her eyes closed, attempting to keep her body's reaction private. A strange kind of hunger gnawed at her, unlike any she had experienced before. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, which disturbed her more than she wanted to admit.

  The hunger was not centered in her stomach, but lower. It took a few minutes of her inner conflict to decide it felt like there was a snake inside her, crawling through her blood, traveling lower and moving stealthily through her, burning every part of her it touched. The burn was centered on her clit, but it spread lower to her pussy lips, and lower still to the puckered skin around her anus.

  Within minutes the heat had spread upwards, touching her breasts, becoming almost unbearable as it settled in her nipples.

  The sounds of the warehouse were muted, as if they were far away in a tunnel. Allie was still aware she was not alone, but the men surrounding her faded away, no longer important. The enemy was no longer external. It was inside her body now and as each moment progressed, she felt more helpless to fight against it.

  Desperation. It was all she felt. God help her, but she needed to touch herself. She would surely die if she didn't. The sexual haze the wicked drug Carlos had injected into her bloodstream now threatened to drown her.

  Urges. She was consumed by them. The urge to touch and rub every part of her body was soon replaced by the uncontrollable urge to fuck. She needed to be filled. The need was primal, animalistic instinct. She knew she'd die without it.

  Allie fought like a mad woman, thrashing to be free, refusing to calm even as she felt the leather strap connecting with her body.

  God help her, but the contact felt good. Her body was on fire from the inside out now, joining with the lines of fire being applied to her skin—her breasts, thighs, stomach—Christ, he struck everywhere but where she really needed it.

  "Ricardo, ¡suficiente! You are tainting my experiment."

  "Fuck your experiment."

  "We had a deal. Now step back."

  No! Don't go.

 
Her mind betrayed her. She bit her tongue to prevent herself from begging them to stick something—anything—inside her. The need was consuming her.

  She heard them talking about her like she was a science experiment. "Interesting. As expected, the effects of the drug are much accelerated with injection into the blood stream. What was not expected was the increased intensity." She felt warm breath on her pussy as they inspected her up close and personal. "Her pleasure nub has quadrupled in size." His chuckle pissed her off. "I am able to see her pulse throbbing through her clit with my naked eye. This is a new result not previously observed on previous test subjects."

  Lucky her.

  As he stood to move away, she broke. She needed him to come back. To touch her. Bring her relief.

  "Don't go! Touch me, you bastard!"

  Instead of touching her, Carlos looked at his watch, surprise registering as he asked his assistant to make a new notation. "That is twenty-three minutes faster than our previous, oral patients. Clearly, injection will be the preferred method of delivery for those who can afford it. I see an excellent upsell opportunity for delivery to those who have the ability to pay… well, and to subdue their victims."

  Carlos turned to his brother excitedly. "I believe this is also a product many powerful men will purchase to control their less than cooperative wives and girlfriends. The applications are limitless."

  Ricardo injected a haunting threat. "I'd like to use it on my wife. After five children, she has turned frigid. I suspect this will thaw her out nicely."

  Allie's eyes met with one of the soldiers standing closest to her. He had his own dick out of his pants and stood stroking it lovingly as he watched her writhe in agony. She dropped her gaze to his ugly cock. It was almost purple, with thick veins running its length, but in that moment, she was desperate for it.

  "Please," she begged, unable to repeat the horrific request to fuck her.

  She was losing control of everything. Body and mind. Carlos stepped close to examine her again at the exact moment when she lost control of her overfull bladder. Some faraway part of her took great joy in splashing hot pee on his expensive shoes.

  She hadn't stopped the flow yet when the leather struck her full-on, wrapping around her open privates, striking her clit, pussy and anus in one stroke. Her orgasm was immediate. White spots blocked her vision as she almost lost consciousness. This was no ordinary climax. This was drug-induced ecstasy, as evil as LSD, cocaine, or opioids. Her brain knew it was the drugs talking, but she still hated herself as she heard her own voice screaming, "Again!"

  Ricardo's leather was happy to oblige her request, biting into her sensitive flesh again. This time, instead of blinding pleasure, Allison succumbed to darkness. The kind of darkness that brought the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

  Chapter 3

  Zach balled his hands into fists, feeling more helpless by the minute, wanting to help the poor young woman being tortured inside the warehouse but knowing it could be a suicide mission. He could hear her screams of agony from his location outside the warehouse they were holding her in.

  After the caravan of SUVs had taken off down the dark road with their American hostage, he had moved on autopilot, not stopping to consider the implications of following them. He just knew he couldn't turn a blind eye to what he'd seen. He didn't believe in coincidence. Considering this was the first time in his marine career that he found himself on foot in enemy territory, he assumed running into an American woman in danger was reason enough to take action.

  Now, after evaluating his options, he wished to hell he were blissfully up in the air, flying over this fucked-up mess, oblivious to the dire situation the beautiful young woman inside found herself facing.

  Surprisingly, he'd had no trouble getting inside the walls of the Blanco residence. He suspected the locals were so damn afraid of the powerful crime family that none of them were stupid enough to try to gain access.

  Not sure what that says about how smart I am, since I'm here.

  He'd encountered only one armed guard on patrol inside the walled barrier. Zach had the element of surprise on his side, sliding the blade of his knife across the neck of the goon from behind, downing him where he stood. He suspected he'd feel guilty for killing a man later, once the adrenaline left his bloodstream, but at the moment, he found himself wishing he could repeat his actions on every fucking asshole inside the warehouse.

  It hadn't been hard to know where to go. The three SUVs from the road were parked in front of a rather rickety metal shed that looked to serve as a warehouse for some of the crime cartel's illegal goods. He'd made his way forward, crouching low, and moving from a row of bushes to a stack of empty pallets that made a good cover. From his vantage point, he could see the side door to the warehouse had been left open, carelessly displaying the goods stacked inside. He spotted pallets of wooden crates labeled as electronics, technology, and medical supplies. The crate labeled 'baby formula' seemed out of place.

  He saw no signs of the illegal weapons they were on a mission to recover, which didn't surprise Zach. There were three Blanco brothers. While they made one crime family, it was common knowledge that they each headed a different division of their perverted organization. Missing from the warehouse in front of him was Miguel, the gunrunner of the family. With any luck, his marine buddies had neutralized that brother on their mission a few miles away.

  Zach wished he'd studied the files on the remaining two brothers more carefully. They were generally deemed as the less dangerous of the threesome, but based on his own observations, he now knew their Intel in that area was false.

  Carlos was the head of the family's large drug running operation. The DEA had several battalions on the ground in Colombia providing support to the Colombian government as they fought the war on drugs. The marines did not often get tangled up in that particular vice, but listening to the devious crime lord experimenting on the innocent woman strapped to the torture chair, Zach decided he would definitely be making an exception to that rule if he got the chance.

  The most evil brother of them all, however, was Ricardo. The youngest of the three, he had not been happy being a second to his oldest brother in running drugs or second to his middle brother in his gunrunning business. It was a well-known fact that Ricardo made his own fortune peddling flesh. At least the intelligence had pegged it right when it labeled him a sadist who took pleasure in buying, selling, and even kidnapping women and men for the purpose of sexual slavery. When Zach had read the background report on the crime family when he was stationed in the region, he'd assumed some of the salacious stories of sadistic torture had been exaggerated. Now, after watching the brothers in action inside for over twenty minutes, he knew the stories to be true.

  Zach had, of course, radioed in his location and intended actions once he made up his mind to infiltrate the compound. Major McIntyre had lost his shit and ordered Zach to fall back and proceed to the extraction rendezvous. He'd told himself he'd do exactly that just as soon as he'd gotten the Intel on where they were holding her, and how many guards they would face when they came back for her. He had moved closer to get a better look at what was happening.

  But once he'd seen the torture the poor woman inside was being subjected to, he couldn't leave her. Zach had tried to report his change to his superior officer, but Superman must be in the middle of his own mission and on radio silence.

  The piercing scream from inside the warehouse tore at Zach's insides. He had limited visibility through a small crack in the wall, but he needed to get closer if he was going to get the info he needed about what was happening inside.

  Zach fell to his chest, crawling along the dusty ground close to the warehouse. He stayed low, glad for the pitch-black night and limited man-made lighting. He was on the south side of the building and had a view of the brightening sky to the east as pre-dawn arrived. The sun would be up soon, and then he'd be in deep shit.

  He stopped directly under the only small window on the entire s
outh side of the building. It would be risky to stand up to look in, but he didn't have a choice. He lifted his field binoculars to his face, making a sweep of the wall and surrounding area, relieved to find it free of pesky guards. Dread washed though him as he realized most of them had probably gone inside so they would watch the torture in progress.

  Knowing he was running out of time, he broke radio silence to report in, relieved when Superman answered this time.

  "You at the backup rendezvous, Thunder?"

  "No, sir. The situation on the ground has degraded. We will need extraction from a closer location."

  "We, soldier?"

  "Yes, sir. We can't leave her behind."

  A long silence dragged on. He could imagine the curse words being used at the other end of the radio. He didn't even blame Peter.

  "Dammit, Zach. This was not our mission. My ass is gonna be in a sling if we start world war three down here. Guns are a threat to national security. Saving some chick is not."

  "Maybe not, but it is a matter of national honor. She's an innocent. She's American. She deserves our help."

  "Are you sure you aren't thinking with your dick, soldier?"

  "Fuck you, Peter. You know me well enough to know I love 'em and leave 'em. This isn't about her. It's about doing the right thing. They are hurting her. Bad. She won't make it out of here alive. We are her only chance." When there was no answer, he added assertively, "I'm not leaving without her."

  "God dammit, Thunder." A long minute passed. Zach spent the minute praying the unit would back him on his decision. He wasn't stupid enough to think he could take on the entire compound without help. He had exactly one knife, a handgun, and two grenades. He'd confiscated the rifle the guard had carried, but it only had two rounds in it. What he'd give for an M16 right now.

  "All right, we have the coordinates. We are at our primary rendezvous. The backup bus will be here within two minutes. We got in and out of the compound under the radar. There is a three-minute countdown before our surprise explodes. We have detonators rigged to blow on the arms cache. With any luck, we'll have some time in their confusion after the blast to sneak in and pick up a stowaway for the ride home."