Big brown eyes stared up out of a face of strawlike fur. “Do you know how to get her out? She doesn’t belong there. She shouldn’t have ended up there.”

Jim took the little whimper to mean the animal agreed—and also needed to go out to use the facilities.

“Two secs,” Jim said, bracing himself to get to his feet. “I need a shower.”

Heaving his deadweight up from the chair, he let the blanket fall from him and went into the modestly sized bathroom. Closing himself in, he flicked on the light, stood over the toilet and wondered whether his cock still worked on any level.

The pink stream he pissed out answered that one. And also suggested that his kidneys had been damaged.

After he was finished, he grunted as he leaned over to hit the flusher and then twisted to the left to turn on the shower. Soap. He needed more soap than the half-used bar that was in there—

Jim froze as he saw himself in the mirror.

Bad. Very bad.

Much worse than he’d thought.

His mouth was purple and swollen from all the shit that had been shoved into it, and his chest and abs were nothing but raw meat. As for his cock . . . The damn thing was hanging off his hips like it had lost the will to live. And he didn’t want to know what the backside of him looked like.

Used and abused was the term.

And his only thought, his only . . . anything . . . was that he hated that Sissy had seen him like this.

As his stomach flopped around in his pelvic girdle, he remembered the horrified expression on her face as she had looked at him. That poor girl . . . He’d been trained for this shit. He’d been through it before—well, not exactly what Devina had done to him, but he’d certainly been worked over a couple of times with fists and knives. Even a bullet or two. But Sissy . . .

He barely made it back to the toilet in time.

As his body clenched up and nothing but bile came out of his mouth, his eyes watered from the strain.

Damn it, Sissy had seen him like this. Sexually violated, bloody, beaten—

More vomiting.

He wasn’t sure exactly when Adrian came in, because round three of heaving hopped up the bunny trail when it dawned on him that he didn’t know whether she was safe from what had been done to him. After all, she was captured. She was stuck there in that hellhole. And Devina had plenty of things that were male-like.

“Here,” Adrian said, passing over a cold washcloth.

Jim couldn’t wipe his face because it hurt too much, so he patted at it, feeling the cool dampness like a balm against his flaming cheeks and burning lips.