Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 182

Fixer POV

Only two of our club members so far had displayed a sadistic streak, while others had only punched or kicked the men who were tied to the chairs. Two stood out: one liked the blade for cutting and seeing blood, trail over the body, and the other used it for a sickening reason. When the man refused to talk, and had been spitting blood, at any who came to punch him, This guy, used a blade, not in a way I had ever dreamed a man would, he cut the man’s underwear, and dug the blade into his ball sack, removing the testes inside gaining a very loud scream, he removed both of them, clean and quick, they fell to the floor and I looked at them, were oval in shape. However, even after losing his balls, the victim still refused to talk, so the member cut his d**k along its length, not completely in half, but a deep slice into it; it oozed so much blood, streaming out like it was under pressure, and then he cut it off at the base and shoved it in the screaming man’s mouth. Then the member returned to his chair, as if it didn’t affect him in any way. The man in the chair died quickly after that. The shock and pain had him out cold, and he bled out onto the drop sheet, blood and fluids, with two oval shapes in the mess.

That was the last man interrogated before lunch, and it appeared that everyone had eaten, so no one was turned off from eating, not even me. I was glued to watching the blood squirt out and the pattern it made on the drop sheet, and fascinated by the testes, which I had not seen before. Unless you are a doctor or nurse, I cant imagine many of us have seen them like this.

I was going over the different men’s ways of trying to get answers as I watched Tank have his turn with the accountant, who was proving to be a stayer, lasting a long time, and I was thinking about the different creative ways I had come up with to make him suffer. Tank wasn’t as invested as I had expected. He did give a few good hits, in different places, but this man was only goading, trying to get us to lose it and kill him before we got our answers.

All our members could see that this man was a challenge, would take all we could give, and would die without giving answers if we continued treating him our way. The accountant would have seen all that blood on the drop sheet and would have known that his men most likely were dead or close to it; that was his end, and he won’t be leaving here alive, not a situation I bet he never thought he would be in.

Tank nodded to Prez and must have gotten the answer he expected or wanted, and turned to Stephen and called him to have a turn.

The buildup we had for watching Savage and Stephen had every member on alert to watch the professionals at play. They went about it differently, every action clean and with a reason. Savage carried the table and placed it in front of the accountant, and unveiled the items they were going to use on him. The accountant’s face paled further, his red eyes showing fear for the first time, and he wet himself, adding his own excretion to the mess already on the floor. Glad we had these drop sheets, I thought, then chuckled at my wayward thoughts.

Stephen injected the accountant with the truth drug. The doc had told us it would take anywhere from ten to twenty minutes, but he wasn’t sure, since he hadn’t had this strength serum before, and it could have been improved or could have been no less than five minutes.

I relaxed against Tank, who had wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me closer to him, as I watched for the first time the man, who was my father, and Stephen, start their show. The lead-up was good, now to watch the main finale. I noticed Uncle Simon and Tandy enter the clubhouse and stand to one side, out of view, so as not to interrupt. Guess they’re here for answers, wonder if Tank called them to let them know what was happening after lunch, and if the lunch break was to give them time to get here.

“What did you inject me with?” The accountant screamed at Stephen, who had his back to him, as he placed his equipment back into its slot, then turned to watch Savage preparing his tools of trade.

Savage took over, his face blank, as he prepared.

Stephen was back a bit further, out of Savage’s way.

Stephe had walked casually over to grab a chair, returned, placed it with its back to the accountant, and sat on it, his arms resting on the back. updated by j-ob-nib,c,o,m He would be monitoring the accountant with careful eyes. He would know when the drug was starting to take full effect, and their methods of interrogation may change. Neither asked any questions, just set about doing their work.

“Tell me.” He growled out through gritted teeth, his breath short, because of his broken rib, which had to be hurting him.

Savage took a long, thin blade and ran it through some liquid, then through the salt, turned to the accountant, and slowly inserted the blade, which looked like a long knitting needle but was very much sharper. I wouldn’t want to knit with these. It sliced through the fleshy part between his shoulder and neck on his right side. Gaining some screams of pain.

But still Savage asked no questions. He then grabbed another one, making sure the accountant could see what he was doing, and did the same, rolling it in liquid, then salt, and inserting it into the fleshy part on the left-hand side. I looked closer, and the liquid was vinegar, which would hurt.

Continuing with the same steps, he inserted the next blade into each of his biceps, his thighs, and his calves. Leaving the needle in each time. The accountant had all these long, thin blades sticking out, and the only sound in the room was his screams, demanding answers to his garbled questions, but getting none.

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