Back From The Dead

Portia

The chains that bind my wrists to my ankles are removed and my arms are stretched overhead, bound to a metal rung on the headboard. I'm flipped onto my stomach, the cuffs clanging as I'm tugged downward. The link that hobbled me is also removed. My legs are pulled apart, stretched to either corner of the bed and linked to the rungs there.

The two men responsible for preparing me, stand back and look down at me. One tugs the pillow out from under my head and shoves it beneath my belly. He nods, meets my eyes and cups his erection.

"I'll take your ass when it's my turn," he says in Spanish. "Save me a piece."

I spit at him.

He slaps my ass.

"Hey," the other soldier interrupts and points to the corner where I see one of those flashing red lights again. The camera is hidden but the soldiers know about it. They must be Felix's men.

"After."

The man glances at the blinking light, nods then returns his attention to me. "If there's anything left."

They walk out but don't close the door