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The feral look of hunger in Jake's eyes as he got off on Hannah's fear was upsetting Dylan's stomach. He had to turn away from the screen as she was dragged along behind her captor and they approached yet another locked door; this time a steel elevator.
The men were taking notes on the security measures they would encounter when they rushed the building with the police. No one had said it out loud yet, but with each set of security barriers, they were all becoming more concerned. First that it would take too long to navigate through all of the complex locks to get to Hannah when the time came, and second, more importantly, what the fuck could Davenport be hiding that needed this much security?
Jake pulled a key ring from his pocket, using a metal key to open the elevator door and then again to close the door once inside. Hannah did a good job of watching his actions, giving the men the view they needed to see him programming a six digit code into the elevator bank to get it moving lower, below ground.
"This isn't right. I have the blueprints on file for that building and there was no mention of a basement or an elevator," Cameron came through over the speakerphone.
Lukus was relaying the information to his contact on his phone. Dylan's dread grew stronger. He kept his eyes on the screen, watching as Hannah exited the elevator and stepped into another corridor, this one dark, with only a few small sconces on the walls lighting the way. As they passed an open door, Hannah tried to slow down, looking inside quickly.
"Good girl, Hannah," he whispered. He was so proud of her for holding it together the way she was. He swore he was going to make this up to her when they got her out. And theywouldget her out. He refused to think otherwise.
Hannah's glance inside the room had been quick. Dylan hadn't seen what was inside, but Derek exploded. "What the fuck? Was that what I think it was?"
"What? I didn't see!" Dylan didn't like the alarm in his brother's voice.
Derek yelled to Cameron. "Cam, back up the footage and investigate that last room. It looked like a row of barred cells for holding captives."
Lukus countered, "Maybe it's just another set for filming," although Dylan heard the concern in his voice.
"And maybe it's not. Cam, check it out," Derek barked the order.
"I'm on it." Dylan liked the techy kid. He kept calm, and was good at his job.
Meanwhile, Hannah continued to be pulled alongside Davenport until they came to yet another security door.
"Fuck. It just keeps getting worse." Dylan didn't like the dread in Z's voice. His partner was as hard-nosed as they came, so having Z on edge freaked him out.
Two armed guards stood in front of the door, blocking their entry. A new anger overcame Dylan knowing these men were gawking at a naked Hannah, predatory glares on their hard faces.
"Everyone we were expecting has arrived for the party, Mr. Davenport," one of the guards said.
"Excellent. Thanks, Mario. And how about our other guests? Any news on their arrival?"
"Yes, sir. Everything is on schedule. The last car is en route from the airport. We should be able to start a few minutes early, and all transportation is arranged for after the event."
"Like clockwork. Well done. I'll have a bonus envelope for you and Tony after the event if all goes off as planned."
"Thank you, sir."
They watched Jake look at his watch. "I think I have thirty minutes to enjoy the party before I need to head back. Come retrieve me if our final guest arrives ahead of schedule."
"Yes, sir. Enjoy yourself."
"Oh I will, Mario. I will."
The guard turned to unlock the door behind him. The sights and sounds that hit them through the surveillance footage almost knocked Dylan on his ass. The debauchery in progress made the previous scenes in the warehouse look like a children's movie. What was happening in the room Hannah stood at the doorway of was nothing short of fucked up.
"Holy fuck." The Dom's Dom, Lukus Mitchell, was surprised. This was not good.
At least a dozen naked women and men were suspended; tied in all kinds of convoluted contortionist positions, all aimed at presenting one or more parts of their body for penetration or, in the case of more than a few, severe punishment. Groups of people in various arrays of dress mingled as if they were at a cocktail party, only the 'refreshments' being delivered on small trays were instruments of pain, lubes and huge dildos meant to tear innocent victims.
In the center of the room, a collection of women were tied together, arms and legs bent and secured in a spaghetti tangle of limbs, making it unclear where one body ended and another began. They were displayed on a slightly raised platform, as if they were a piece of rare art. Party-goers gathered around to watch the center attraction while others took a more active role in the scene, stepping up with paddles, crops, straps and electro-wands to torture the bodies displayed for their entertainment.
They had a front row view to a plump bottom being beaten with a wooden paddle so hard—and for so long—that deep red bruises covered the ass of the victim, where blood could be seen pooling under the skin. This was not playful BDSM; this was hardcore discipline, and the screams in the room confirmed it was nothing short of torture. Dylan was shaking with fear for Hannah, and it only got worse as the man with the paddle threw it to the ground and stepped up to bury his oversized cock into the hopefully lubed asshole of the bottom he'd just roasted.
Their view of the scene was gratefully blocked as a rounded man in a three piece suit, his small cock protruding from his unzipped pants, approached Jake and Hannah. He wore a mask over his chubby face, his piss-poor attempt at anonymity. "Another excellent party, Mr. Davenport. The only thing missing is that virgin you promised me last month."
"Ah, Your Honor, I've told you that virgins are extremely hard to come by these days. Did you try out Rena over there? She's an anal virgin. I told Mohammed to be sure to let you take her first," Jake said.
