Doug Ellis Ch. 11

We've all had our faith shaken in the last few years. Our faith in democracy, our faith in medical science, our faith in justice. I've done a lot of reading about science and history these last few years. Nothing really changes. Questions lead to discoveries, discoveries lead to more questions. Empires rise and fall. Injustice can't last forever.

***

Dursley awoke in a darkened room. Not his own, although he was not immediately aware of much except the darkness.

His senses registered the cold metal frame of an old fashioned office chair against his bare legs and that his arse hung into the unlit space behind him. The seat had been removed.

His discomfort was multi-focal. Apart from the awkward support of the steel tubing. His immensely powerful arms were pulled tightly behind his back. Cable ties at his wrists dug into his tattooed flesh discouraging any struggle to free his hands. His formidable chest pressed against the backrest of the chair that he straddled and his ankles were each tied behind him to a front leg of the chair frame, keeping his weight forward. He could feel a cold concrete floor under the tips of his toes, his ankles being tied to the frame in such a way as to discourage his rocking himself forward onto his handsome face. His knees similarly bound to the joint between the seat and the upright backrest which had been left in place. He was stark naked. His genitals hung heavy and low and impotent into the darkness beneath him. He was trussed up like a capon and any attempt to straighten his powerful body was certainly going to mean painful trauma.

Like a hero in any thriller, fear was not his first thought.

After it appeared his binding rendered escape impossible, his second thoughts were:

Where was he? How had he got here? Both unanswerable.

What had happened before the lights went out?

Who ..... a brief and foggy memory began to coagulate in the mush behind his eyes.

God, these bonds are tight! If he could only keep still....

The memory was slowly coming into focus....

He remembered the knock at the door.....he hurriedly pulled up his pants, tore off his uniform shirt, scooped up his semen in it and tossed the sticky bundle over the back of the leather sofa. Straightened up his herculean shoulders and went to the door, confident in his his ability to intimidate almost anyone with his furious face, stubbly pectorals and six pack gut.

Nobody round here has a front door without a spy hole. Through it, could be seen the pretty features of the cardiologist from the apartment below, Dursley's tenant at his official address.

She had an anxious look on her face and the big man had no hesitation in opening the door.....

......He'd felt it like a powerful blow to the chest but unlike a fist. A tremendous spasm, then oblivion, the next thing he remembered was waking up tied over this chair in the pitch dark.

He'd presented an easy target....must have been a taser. Soreness from the chest area, where the two stings from the weapon had been recently removed. That was giving him discomfort but compared to the concerns with his bindings, not much. His head felt very heavy in this unnatural position.

He could turn only a little but without hurting himself his range of vision would be limited even if there were light, he could sense no-one in the room. The city was never this quiet. He could see almost nothing, however, ahead there was a tiny point of red light which suddenly went green and a screen suddenly illuminated brightly only a short distance away, hurting his eyes, distracting him completely from his other misfortunes.

Without introduction, images began to appear on the screen before he had a chance to register what he was seeing but eventually he perceived a room and viewed from an unusual angle, high up. Looking down into a room. A security camera? There was no sound.

Wait a minute, this was the octagonal office and there was the formidable figure of Singleton at his huge desk. The image flickered but they never changed location.

Cuts in the black and white video footage showed Singleton there and gone, showed the light change as night turned to day. obviously the camera had been activated for hours and the footage edited.

Dursley knew there were no security cameras in Singleton's office. A few in key positions around the prison. The main gate, principle junctions between wing entry points, the exercise yard etc. His blood was beginning to run cold as his imagination caught up with where this footage was leading.

After only a minute and many temporal cuts, boss was back at his desk when the metal door to the room swung open and in walk the cuffed but unbowed figure of Doug Ellis followed by Dursley himself. Details were indistinct but clear enough to identify those concerned, not least from their superhuman mass.

Dursley watched in helpless horror as he realised the scene of that sexual assault had been secretly recorded. So confident was the security supremo that no evidence of the incident existed and such a low opinion had they of their victim that they had not even conceived of their actions as criminal. Here it was, in black and white.

The scene played out and then changed abruptly.

Again, a high camera position. This time a carefully lit subject and in higher definition and colour. Dursley realised he was looking down on a medical examination table. Not from a spy camera.

The subject of the examination was not moving and the camera was zoomed in on a large pair of pale skinned buttocks, striated across with lurid red wheals, the entirety covered with fine whitish blond hair and Dursley knew immediately where, when and of whom these images had been made.

Purple blue rubber gloved hands appeared in shot and carefully parted the wounded flesh. They revealed the distended anus and as one hand skilfully held open the cheeks of the patient's arse, the other brought in swabs that were used to swipe exquisitely gently at and inside the tortured body part. He could not see but assumed that these swabs were samples for forensic examination. His mind raced. Could the DNA be identified from their mixed semen?

Perhaps neither Singleton nor Dursley had ever imagined that complaints of rape in a prison institution would be investigated just as they would be outside. Even though, as in this case, the victim had not made a complaint or had not been capable of making one. That simple curiosity about the circumstances of a hospitalisation might sometimes lead to such an examination.

Perhaps his anxiety would be better directed towards his current predicament.

***

Meanwhile, another screen was rolling footage from security cameras at the Mall.

Homicide and Drugs squad collaborations were all too common but broad daylight, drive by shootings were exceptional.

They had the registration of the car that had driven up and away, it turned out to be a plate swap.

They had the muzzle flashes, couldn't identify the firearm but if pathology or forensics could give them a projectile they could get many of the details.

What was taking the time was running over the movement of the people. The gunshot victim approaching the point of the attack, moving towards the camera from the direction of the Mall entrance/exit. People moving in both directions. Eye witness statements.

The approaching car, the gun is seen to protrude from the window, two shots are fired, the victim is seen to stagger first with the percussion, takes a half step, falls to the ground in the direction of his momentum but slightly skewed away from the direction of the shots.

"Who's got the initial crime scene report? "

"Ma'm, it's here."

"How many gunshot wounds at the scene?

"One Ma'm. Clean shot to the head, Ma'm."

"Forensics found the missing second bullet?"

"Nothing to suggest so, Ma'm."

"Get a copy of this footage down to forensics and ballistics, all the angles are clear, no other injuries reported, it has to be down there."

"Right away Ma'm."

"What have we got on the victim?

"Ma'm. He's super clean, not even a parking ticket."

"Khora, what do we know about what the victim was carrying?"

"Well, it's not industrial scale, very selective, very clean and sophisticated. 50 one gram coke, professionally vacuum packed, inside a coke can, very witty. 100 two gram smack in a sandwich box. with 5 5 ml bottle of Testosterone Cypionate 200mg per millilitre. No pills."

"So, we see that the motive is not theft, all the killer has done is temporarily cut the supply, they needed very precise information about the pick up point, identities, radio control co-ordination, this is the big league. This has cost a lot to set up and they've taken a huge risk in broad daylight, under a security camera for a piffling package. What are we missing?.....wait a minute...who's this big guy?"

"Ma'm, he appears bottom right, heading towards the crime scene only about ten paces away when the shot is fired."

"Look at the way he kind of flinches when the shots go off. Everything else is pandemonium, he just turns away and heads back towards the car park. Do we get a face?"

"Not perfect, Ma'm. We're not square on. Notable details: he's really big. White uniform shirt, short sleeved, my guess would be that it's tailored, quite a bit of tattooing. We'll try to improve on that when we go after the face, Ma'm"

"I want this guy in here before the day is out."

"Downs! Get this around to the local gyms! Your territory, I think."

"Get busy people!" "The Chief Super has a press call in 20 minutes.""

"Khora, brief me on this testosterone please. Directly injectable?"

***

As the screen returned to black, Dursley's eyes once more strained into the gloom.

He Started. Pain shot through his body at the points where he was bound. Someone or something had touched him.

Again. This time more definite. He must try prevent himself from reacting. 'Stay calm, stay calm' he told himself. A third touch in a place even he himself rarely touched. The contact stayed. Motionless. Right in the middle of his rosebud, virgin arse hole. He tried desperately to control his panic, remembering the nightmare with the spectre of Ellis in the back of the blacked out sedan.

He had to stay still but the contact, whatever it was, would not. It began to circle his tiny, tense, clenched up hole and Dursley started bleating into the dark void "Oh no, please! No!"

Something was placed around his neck, like a necklace, something heavy rested on his collar bone. his heightened senses told him, rubber. Something or someone pinched his nose, he opened his mouth in an instinctive reaction and a rubber ball stretched open his jaw as it was pushed very firmly into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. Before he could react, he felt a strap behind his head pull the ball tightly into place.

The screen came to life once again, a calm green glow. A text message appeared.

"Welcome, Mr. Dursley!" He read "Can we call you Lee?"

A brief pause, empty green screen and then, "We were just going to dispose of you."

Another pause "Somewhere you could be found by the police."

Pause. "Your body is so beautiful."

Pause. "So, let's have some fun!"

The eerie green glow from the monitor faintly lit the stricken bodybuilder, highlighting the carefully clipped and stubbly, dusty brown bristles that covered his body now black against his tanned, the unearthly glow of his peculiarly lit, green, skin. The incredible hulk in the strange light, tormented by bonds, eyes wide, an unaccustomed fear across his face.

Circling once more around his most vulnerable flesh. He waited, desperately trying not to react, trying not to twitch a sinew, waiting to be violently violated. The circling continued, then it reversed direction, then stopped again at the very centre and gently bounced a light pressure against the tension of the tissue around the opening.

Dursley's stretched face could not be more tense and tight as he struggled to control his body's responses to this sensation.

Then it moved again. This time opening the centre point, he could feel a tiny opening of his anus. Dursley drew in micro-breaths, anticipating a sudden thrust, a sudden tearing of his tender insides by some massive blunt object.

The probe, whatever it was, slowly withdrew to its starting point and repeated. Perhaps a little further, a little wider. Again and again he felt this minor intrusion. No discomfort. The only unpleasant feeling being his anxiety and tension and the cutting into his joints at their bindings. He thought the tendons in his powerful neck would snap. Every fibre of his enormous muscle mass stood out in this odd illumination.

Then, at the next intrusion, he felt his anus close again slightly as the probing moved forward and stopped with the object inside him and extending out through his anus. Too terrified to wonder much about its shape. Next he felt his anus expand again as it was withdrawn then again as it was slowly and carefully reinserted as if this was a medical proceedure. Still fearing that this was some kind of prelude to more pain or an explosion of violence, he registered surprise that he was able to sense the thing inside him. Not only this but that it was not at all uncomfortable compared to his other discomforts which he could not feel, or seemed to forget, once it was inserted. How far in the probe had moved he could not tell, until it touched something inside him.

A blast of nervous energy shot through him. Panicked, he moaned against the gag as pain once more shot through him as he jolted against his bound joints.

Another point of contact, unmistakably a hand this time, reached underneath the chair and grabbed his low-hanging scrotum, above his nuts, pulling down slowly but very firmly on his eggs, which revealed to Dursley that his cock was rock hard at full erection. A second hand expertly and precisely introduced something cold and hard at the tip of his cock where his thick steel piercing* protruded from his urethra, a metallic tick as the two objects touched. Then the oddest sensation came over him as he felt this cold steel opening his pis slit and sliding down inside his cock. It was uncomfortable but not painful but when it was repeated he realised it was moving towards the place where the probe had been worked into his arse.

Suddenly, after repeated insertions, feeling like this metal rod was fucking the inside of his cock-shaft, another jolt of nerves shot right through him, an involuntary moan escaped him but this time he knew it left him before the pain that cut into his bonds.

Something went off at all points in his body and it wasn't pain. The probe in his penis was fastened in place with a tether around his testicles hanging low beneath him and he could feel a gentle pressure somewhere deep inside him from the tip of the second probe, somewhere at the root of his manhood but somehow also all over him, overwhelming all other nervous sensation.

Next, he saw two strong, pale green masculine hands reach in from behind him under his magnificent chest. Clad in surgical gloves, they first brushed against his course-bristled chest teasing the right nipple to rouse the tip and attached some kind of clip, firm but not biting, to just the very tip. The hands returned to repeat the process to the left nipple. He could barely see but just noticed a thin cable snaking away beneath him. Involuntary, nasal utterances accompanied the process followed by a long apprehensive groan.

The probe, deep in his arse, started to pulse very slowly, like a gentle reminder that it was there and lying against something very sensitive. Every other second, that sensation through his body emerged from the background of his discomfort and then disappear again. every time it came, it brought relief from pain and every time it came it brought pleasure. Every time it came it increased the pressure against the second probe until he could no longer distinguish between the two.

He was trying to focus on what mischief was coming next but the regular pulse of power coursing through his entire body stopped him from assembling any rational thought. His loins were alive with the most extraordinary sensations.

The intensity of the pulsations seemed to increase and then he felt a kind of buzzing in his nipples at a counterpoint to the pulses from the probe in his arse. First the probe and then the clips. At first the sensations were entirely different, then he felt a kind of connection between the two actions resonating in his body, in his glands in his brain, everywhere. It was as if there was a triangle of exquisite agony between his two nipples and somewhere under the base of his cock. A stream of exhalations accompanied the rise of each pulse and involuntary moans escaped around the gag and through his nose.

Powerless, he began to cum. His body was wracked by jittering convulsions as he lost control over his muscle movements. He twitched in agony as the cable ties pressed into his limbs but the bouncing in his genitals as glob after glob of thick man cream gushed out around the probe, oozed out over his Prince Albert ran down the underside of his thickly veined shaft, trickled over his balls and flowed onto the floor as a glistening green pool. The magnificent volume of this load was astonishing. None of which he could see but he was so close to passing out it hardly mattered.

Busy hands were already removing the probes that had been inserted in his penis and anus as his orgasm subsided. As he came round a fading ache of emptiness in that place at the base of his cock replaced the rippling stimulation and the pain from his bonds overwhelmed him.

***

It wasn't long before detective inspector Watts and her team to pieced together who it was so obviously leaving the scene of the earlier shooting.

The massively muscled figure was not identified at the local gyms, where roided and tattooed would-be supermen were two a penny. However, once circulated around the force, many of whom had business to and from the jail, an officer quickly responded, suggesting it might just be that big guy with the attitude (yeah?) from the prison. "I never forget a ripped forearm!" he said with a dirty grin.

Her call came through to the duty governor from the switchboard without Singleton's intervention, the investigation team were pretty sure that the missing officer was their man at the scene. An email exchange, between her office and the personnel department at the prison moments later confirmed the ID and furnished Inspector Watts with an official identity photograph to supplement her swelling file.

The process of knocking on doors in adjacent homes to Lee Dursley's given address, strongly suggested a deception. It quickly revealed the true location of his home, one floor above. It also revealed the bound and traumatised cardiologist and incidentally the cum spattered shirt behind the sofa, though there would be no shortage of DNA when they located Dursley himself an hour later following an anonymous tip-off call to the prison.

Two phones in different smart suited pockets, received notice of a video message attached to an email purporting to come from the Secretary of State's office. One, the local chief super-intendant of police, the other, the off duty prison governor.

***