Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Fucking awesome.
Not.
Chapter 7
I bet she wears his shirt. But all I want to say is that’s the rag we used to use to wipe up the come he’d left inside of me.
-Masen to Mia
Booth
“My leg! It burns!” The man that we’d just pulled out of the car screamed.
The car in front of him had cut him off, and the guy had done all he could do, which was to run into a truck that was hauling hot asphalt.
The tailgate of the truck had burst open, and the hot asphalt had poured into the guy’s broken windshield, saturating him and the entire car.
We’d gotten him out within seconds, having witnessed the accident, but there was still quite a bit of damage.
“Alright man,” I said. “I’m going to cut your pants off.”
If the patient was awake and scared, it helped to talk them through what it was that you were doing. A lot of times having their mind on something else helped them.
So I explained exactly what I was doing…until I saw it.
My eyes widened when I saw what looked to be a melted dildo sticking to the guy’s leg.
“What…” I cleared my throat, looking to my partner for the day, Bowe. At the shake of his head, I looked back to the patient. “What is that, sir?”
I knew what it was.
He knew what it was.
The fucking people across the street knew what it was.
I just needed confirmation.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said through tears. “My wife…she made me.”
His wife…made him.
Interesting.
With nothing else to do, I moved past the dildo that was melted onto his leg and checked his pupils while Tai started an IV.
“Equal and reactive,” I said. “What’s the BP?”
“148/72,” Tai answered as he saw flash on the IV and inserted the catheter.
“Good,” I replied. “What’s your name, sir?”
I asked him his name for two reasons, first to see if he actually knew it, and secondly because I needed to know it for my reports.
“Dean Redmond,” he answered on a sob.
I winced.
It was never fun to see a grown man cry.
“What day is today?” I asked.
“Thursday the eighteenth,” he cried harder.
I nodded, even though his eyes were clenched tightly shut.
“Can you tell me where it hurts, Mr. Redmond?” I asked.
“Thigh,” he said, pointing to the melted dildo. “And….my….my….”
He didn’t finish, instead he just pointed at the side of his ass.
“Do you have burns on your backside?” I asked.
Then he all of a sudden started blurting out everything.
“She made me wear the dildo to the store, and usually it sits just right inside my…ummm…anus. But the jolt of the crash caused me to clench…and well,” he shrugged as best as the C-spine collar we had him in allowed.
“So there’s something else in your…butt,” I guessed.
He nodded, a tear slipping out of his clenched eye lid.
“What about anywhere else on your body? How’s your head feeling?” I asked, checking for circulation and pulses on his extremities.
“Everything feels okay,” he said. “My jeans did a pretty good job of protecting me from the brunt of the burning asphalt. But my face kind of hurts from where I hit my nose on the steering wheel.”
I checked out his nose.
He had a parallel cut on the bridge that was likely due to the force that he hit the steering wheel with, and I was just about to grab some four by four’s when a woman started screeching.
“Redmond!” The woman yelled, bringing all of our attention to her.
“That’s my master…errr…wife,” he informed me.
I turned only my head, surveying the woman that was coming towards us.
Then blanched when I got a look at the bitch.
She was probably a few inches shy of six and a half feet. She was, however, wearing spiked chrome heels that likely gave her four inches.
Her hair was dyed black with purple highlights.
Her eyes were purple as well, and her body was stuffed into what looked to be leather, but was most likely fake.
She was also…large.
Very large.
Not fat, though, but solid muscle. More like Chyna, from the WWF way back in the day, big.
Her eyes were all for the man in front of me, real concern etched on her face.
“Oh, Red, honey. Are you okay?” The man—I mean woman—said.
She sounded like a man, though.
She could probably pass for one, too.
I wouldn’t blink an eye if I saw her pissing in the stall next to mine.
“I’m okay,” he said, eyes glancing at me. “But my, erm, toy is gone.”
The woman’s face didn’t change, but her eyebrows did.
And they rose to the very top of her forehead, right to her hairline.
“And where,” she said, “might I ask, is your toy?”
He bit his lip, then started to cry.
I chose that moment to load him into the back of the ambulance.
Maybe if we got out of here all this wouldn’t seem so fucking messed up.