The Hood of Justice by Mark Alders Read Free Book Online Page B

that turned out to be. The fuckstain disappeared for disobeying Randy right when Jason signed the oath the company demands, becoming a runner and involved in a life of crime. An oath which states you will become the property of the company, become nothing more than an object to do with as Randy pleased.     
    He had lasted two years.
    Jason knew the end would be soon, and deep soul draining fear ran through him. Whatever Randy had in mind for him, he knew it wouldn't be good. How could it be good? He was in chains, hanging from a ceiling in some dungeon, no doubt. His future didn't look pretty.
    A noise disturbed him from his thoughts. A sound he recognised--a Ferrari engine. Jason swallowed hard. Seemed Randy was approaching.
    "I'm coming, Jason. I hope you didn't miss me." With the sound of Randy's voice, the crack of light in the distance got wider, intense. Jason turned his head.
    Seconds later, a flick of a switch and fluorescent bulbs ignited high above him. After a few agonising moments of not being able to see, of waiting for his eyes to adjust, he realised the time had come for his life to end. Unable to control himself, his bladder released.  His piss splashed onto a concrete floor.
    Seemed he was naked, too.
    When his eyes had become accustomed to the light, he could see the full weight of his situation. He was in a dungeon. A torture dungeon to be precise. There were all sorts of tools arranged in racks along the walls, whips, cat 'o nine tails, spears, branding irons, and straps. There were also numerous pieces of equipment which didn't bode well for making him feel any ray of hope about his current situation. To his left, cages and a torture rack. To his right, fuck harnesses, suspended strapping and a stock. A dude, naked and emaciated was held within the stock, blood cacked all over him from the beatings he had received. Jason couldn't tell if he was alive or dead. Up ahead, a staircase.
    Randy was descending the stairs, a smile on his lips which sent shudders of fear through him like poison from a snake bite. "Are you ready to have a little fun, my man?"
    Jason tried to answer. Again, a realisation came to him. He was gagged. All he could manage was a muffled cry out for help. A fat fucking lot of good that did. He'd bet this dungeon was sound proof, too. He could see surveillance cameras dotted about. No doubt to give Randy some jack off material as he watched his dungeon play things being tortured…or re-watch if he recorded his proceedings. 
    Randy strode up to him, pulled away the gag. The second he did so, Jason said, "What the fuckin' hell are you going to do with me, cock head? I thought you said I could live?" Although, he had to admit, no longer having the gag around him was a relief.
    His boss tutted, waggling his index finger back and forth to emphasise his next words. "I told you, you've got to be punished for ratting me out. I now have the cops on my tail, no thanks to you. Besides, this is all part of the job I have for you, remember. You're going to be the bait in a little trap I am going to set up for Casey Watson."
    "Casey?" As soon as Jason heard that name, his stomach tingled in that delicious way it always did when he had a crush on a guy. The copper who had helped get him into this mess was damn fine. No, he couldn't think like that. He got himself into this mess. If he wasn't a runner, a criminal, then perhaps he could have a chance with the likes of Casey Watson. Damn that pig was fucking fine. He shook his head. A bloke like Casey wouldn't be attracted to the likes of him, not in a million years. Sadness washed over him. 
    "Aww, you feel for him, don't you?" Randy ran his fingers over Jason's cock, startling him. The pressure he applied was sensual, especially when he stroked the silk of his foreskin. Jason liked his cock being touched in such a way. He couldn't help but become aroused, especially when he thought about Casey taking him away from all this and making sweet love