Page 229 of Once Upon a Fable

“What? What is it, Annette?” Storymaker frowned, looking at me in my naked, piss-covered glory as if I was nothing more interesting than a boring book on a nightstand.

“He’s gone soft, and no matter what I do, he won’t get hard again.” She leaned into him, whispering loudly. “I gave him a Viagra a few hours ago. Aren’t those things supposed to last all night?”

Storymaker strolled in, eyeing up my flaccid cock with disgust. “Unfortunately, those wonder pills don’t seem to work as well on Kassen as the others, do they, boy?” He tapped my cheek, ending with a harsh slap.

My head shot sideways, sticking to the wood of the cross. I didn’t care. I was past caring.

“Unbuckle his right hand.” Storymaker spun to face Ms. Blain by the door. “Make him jerk off. Mr. Wilby showed him how to arouse himself.” Turning back to me, he grinned. “He knows the consequences of not being able to serve a guest in all ways they require, don’t you, Kassen?”

He grabbed my chin, jerking my face to him. I hoped he didn’t see the tracks of my tears or hear the brutal pain howling in my chest. “You’ll masturbate good and proper. Get that thing stiff. Annette here hasn’t finished her fun, and you know how important it is to keep our guests entertained.”

My right wrist was released, my shoulder flaring in agony.

Storymaker snatched my hand and shoved it between my legs, forcing fingers to wrap around my abused cock, squishing the softness until fresh tears sprang to my eyes. “Fuck yourself, Kassen. There’s a good boy. Don’t disappoint me. You know what will happen if you do.”

“Kas! Kas!” Hands on my chest, fingers in my hair, a warm curvy body against mine. “You’re okay. It’s just in your head. You’re here, with me. Not there. They can’t touch you—”

Touch?

Fuck, no.

Not again.

Neveragain.

I grabbed the person who dared to touch me. I latched around their throat.

Isqueezed.

Nails sliced across my face as a reedy scream sounded. “It’s me. It’s Gemma! Stop—”

A choking sound. Legs kicking against mine. Cool water lapping around my body.

That name.

It wasn’t a guest’s name.

Something about it tugged me, called to me, whispered that it was the most important name in the world.

“Sto...p.” The kicking grew softer. Their fight fading...

Gemma!

My eyes shot wide.

It took a split second for everything to pour through me. Her arrival, her imprisonment, her kissing me, wanting me, talking to me. Her kindness, and her perfect, perfect heart.

“Fuck!” I ripped my hands off her.

She slipped under the water.

I snatched her back, wading to the shore, oblivious that my broken arm blared with fresh agony or that my legs struggled to stay upright with the vertigo in my mind and the river pushing with its currents.

All I focused on was getting Gemma, getting my friend, to safety.

It took all my strength to climb from the weightlessness of the water and back onto dry land, hoisting her body until she lay like a dead bride in my arms. “Come on. You’re okay. Open your eyes. Please, for God’s sake, open your eyes.” I kneeled next to my clothes, laying her gently in the grass, placing my hands over her heart to do CPR.

I pressed my mouth to hers, exhaling hard into her lungs, bracing with power to compress her chest.