by Ty Marton
Martin nodded, a burst of fresh energy coming over him. “Good,” he said. “Maybe we’ll finally get an idea of what the hell went really went down.”
“You could say that,” she said, the two of them turning into a small, dim room cast aglow by a wall’s worth of monitors, all of them filled with footage from the many cameras of Motel X.
“Shit…” Martin said, momentarily overwhelmed by the brutal sex and abuse filling the majority of the monitors.
“It’s been hard to watch, and this isn’t even the worst of it,” Audrey said. “The timestamps are still scrambled, so we’re still trying to piece a timeline together, but look here. These two.”
She pointed at a monitor in the center of the wall, where two naked young men were twisted together in a bed that sat in a bleak, empty room. There was a strange energy between the two of them, an oddly out of place yet undeniable air of passion that made the video unlike anything else from the motel footage.
“See there?” Audrey said, pointing at the X burned into one of the slave’s backsides.
“John Doe number ten,” Brown muttered. “The missing slave. Who’s he with?”
“That’s the best part,” Audrey said proudly. “We found a match for John Doe X from the missing persons database – Danny Major, disappeared just over a year ago. Fits the profile to the letter. But the other guy? Absolutely nothing. That is, until…”
She guided Agent Brown over to a laptop, where she pulled up an inter-agency database. With a few furious keystrokes, she launched a search from an image isolated on the monitor.
“With that sheriff and all, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check here, and sure enough…”
The search finished, displaying a single match.
“Jeff Kenton,” Martin said, squinting into the monitor. “Who is he?”
“He’s a cop. Worked under Fox at Hacienda County,” Audrey said. “There’s a vague entry in his file about a departmental transfer dated from about a month ago, but none of it checks out. No idea if he was initially involved in the operation or not, but either way, it looks like he was silenced and wiped off of the grid for some reason.”
“Damn,” Martin said. “Three dead, nine catatonic victims, and now two missing from the scene.”
Audrey nodded. “Only question is, where are they now?”
Martin turned back to the monitor, where Danny and Jeff were frozen in a frenzied, desperate embrace. The image seemed to burn its way into Martin’s mind, his eyes unblinking as he forced himself into their world, desperate to find the answers.
“Wherever they are, they’re the key,” Brown said. “Figuring out what happened to them just became priority number one.”
“Yes, sir,” Audrey said, nodding in agreement.
“Danny Major…” Agent Brown said, mumbling to himself under his breath as he continued staring into the monitor. “Jeff Kenton…
“What happened to you?”
~*~
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ty Marton lives in Los Angeles, CA, where his active exploration of the local BDSM scene perked his curiosities about the creative expression of dark, kinky fantasies. He wishes to thank all of his many friends in the fetish community for their support, encouragement, and inspiration, and encourages all of his readers to find a safe, sane, and consensual way to explore their own fantasies.
He welcomes all questions, comments, and feedback regarding his work at [email protected], and humbly encourages anyone who enjoyed this story to help support him by posting their review on the book’s website. Reviews make a HUGE difference, and are always greatly appreciated!
Thanks for reading!
