“Please, let us go! Please!” Michaela screeched. Her survival instincts had reawakened, and she screamed for all she was worth. Meanwhile, Mick Werdan had finally snapped out of his catatonic state.
“Kill me, just let my daughter go. I implore you!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs.
“Awww. Look at those two begging and pleading. Isn’t it adorable?” Fatima purred as Hakim took her hand, squeezing it in a loving, sibling-like gesture.
Salib now had the battery ready to go, the clips firmly attached to the clit and testicles of his two helpless captives. He loved watching the girl’s pussy and ass move as she struggled in her bonds. It was almost mesmerizing. The girl’s struggles loosened up more cum, which came flowing out of her cunt and anus, along with another thin trickle of blood. No doubt Hakim’s brutal rape had torn her ass. If she survived, she might need to see a doctor. But now none of that mattered. Only one thing mattered.
Revenge.
Salib turned the dial up to electrocute the naked father and daughter bound tightly together. He prepared to watch the exquisite sight of his naked captives writhing for the very last time. A father and daughter’s love could only do so much. Rape, torture, and revenge were forces far stronger, and they would not be satisfied with anything less than the complete surrender of these western imperialists’ very lives.
THE END…Or Is It?
~~~~~***~~~~~ ~~~~~***~~~~~ ~~~~~***~~~~~
“Breach.”
One word was all it took. The specialized anti-terrorist SWAT unit burst through the warehouse doors and flooded the compound. Within seconds, armed men in body armor and tactical gear were streaming into the basement, shouting for the terrorists to get down on the floor.
A stunned Fatima put her hands up and slowly backed up against the wall. An agent quickly whirled her about, threw her face-down onto the concrete, and cuffed her hands behind her back. Her brother and Salib were not so fortunate. As they tried to run, gunfire echoed, deadly and deafening, and the two men fell to the floor streaming blood. Their lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling as more agents swept the area.
“I’ve got them,” one SWAT member yelled. He had found the governor and his unconscious daughter bound together in their forced, spread-eagled, and naked embrace. He pressed his hand to Governor Werdan and Michaela Werdan’s neck, felt for a pulse.
“They’re alive.”
Governor Werdan’s eyes snapped open. His heart beat irregularly in his chest.
“Michaela,” he croaked between parched lips. “Is she?”
“Governor, you’re all right, and your daughter’s alive. We’ve got you now, Sir. You’re safe.”
~~~~~***~~~~~
HOURS LATER…
Angela Werdan, wife of Governor Werdan and mother of Michaela, rushed into the hospital with bodyguards hustling to keep pace.
“Miss Werdan –” A nurse tried to stop her, but she was like a heat-seeking missile bent on its target. Angela flew into the ward where she’d been told her daughter and husband were recovering. She found them lying side by side in two hospital beds, their hands interlocked.
“Mom!” Michaela broke down into tears, sobbing uncontrollably as Angela leaned over to comfort her raped and brutalized daughter. Angela kissed the girl’s forehead, shedding tears of her own.
“My baby. Are you all right?” She knew the uselessness of the question before the words were even out of her mouth, but motherly instinct made them simply slip out nonetheless. She cradled her daughter’s head, stroking her hair, kissing the crown of Michaela’s head as the girl sobbed and felt the comfort of her mother’s touch.
“SSSHHH, baby. I’m here now. I’m here. I love you so much, Michaela. I love you so, so, much, my sweet, brave girl.” Even while she comforted her daughter, Angela reached out and grasped her husband’s hand.
Governor Werdan had the look of a man who had aged an entire decade overnight. His gaunt face had deep lines around the eyes. Pain seemed etched there, not just beneath the surface but deep, deep down, embedded like the roots of a tree.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Angela said, looking at her husband with profound love. “I was… I was worried sick. I thought you were…” She couldn’t form that awful word. Dead. She could only feel the relief that what might have been… wasn’t… that the sadistic terrorists had all been either captured or killed. It was a five-man team with one woman also involved. The authorities hadn’t told her much more than that.
“Angela.” There was a deep sadness tainting the relief in Governor Werdan’s voice. Tears were brimming in the eyes of Angela’s usually strong and stoic husband. “I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t protect our daughter.” He began to sob now, too, and Angela did what she could. She reached out and caressed her husband’s face, wiping away his tears.
ENDING – FINAL
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