“Kneel.”

I open my eyes. “P-Pardon?”

“Get up on your knees.”

Adrenaline pulses through me like rusty nails. Is this what executioners make you do? I push myself into a kneeling position and try not to stare at his heavy canvas pants. There is something besides killing me that could be done while I’m on my knees. Is that what he wants? I don’t know what to hope for.

“Open your mouth.”

My jaw drops before my soul can protest.

Adriano’s lips twist. “You little whore.” His tattooed hand moves to his zipper and my heart thumps so hard I taste blood. I’m going to see a man for the first time. Taste him. Unless I pass out before it even starts and then he shoots me.

Cold drops into my cleavage. Adriano is rubbing the gun barrel against my breasts.

“The others think you’re innocent.” His voice rumbles in the dark, deep and inhuman. What was the bull-man from Greek Mythology called?

The gun comes back up my collarbone, the metal warmed from my body heat. My jaw is aching from being open and my tongue feels furry with fear. I don’t want to give him a blowjob, but I wish anything else was happening.

“Are you a good little whore?”

Should I agree? Disagree? I decide to go with the truth. “No?”

He presses the barrel hard against my temple. “Did I tell you to close your mouth?”

I’m petrified, but I still know that was a dirty trick. My breath catches and though I want to beg I know it won’t work. Nothing will. I let my jaw hang.

He grips the side of my neck. “That’s it, little whore. Now suck.”

A split second of panic before he slides his gun into my mouth. I try to pull away, but his big hand claps the back of my head, holding me in place.

“I said ‘suck.’”

Whimpering, I close my lips around the barrel tasting the now familiar oil and metal. I move back and forth, tears leaking from my eyes. I feel a hot surge of unreality and know I’m going to pass out. Maybe Adriano knows it too because he fists my hair. “Suck harder. Tight and fast.”

It isn’t like last time. Last time I was in a chair with Adriano above me. He was shoving the gun into my mouth while I tried to keep my teeth out of the way. It was violent. Forced. Almost staged. This is different. I’m on my knees and Adriano’s pumping the gun slowly, working it in and out of my mouth. It feels more like doing that than sucking a gun. My eyes lock on his canvas pants. The front is thick and distorted. He has a… but he’s making me suck his gun instead. Doc was right. He is a big freak. I sputter a laugh against the barrel. Adriano’s hand tightens in my hair. “Something funny?”

My insides swoop. I suck the gun deeper making myself gag.