Brantley Colton can’t escape being drawn into another series of twisted murders after several naked bodies are unearthed, discarded like garbage.
Finding the killer will be tough enough…but when he learns the culprit is a prominent State Senator from Maine, Colton realizes bringing him to justice will become his greatest challenge. He is swept into a sordid, sexual world of bondage and discipline, violence and pain only to discover that the evil in some men’s souls is incomprehensible.
There were two spigots hanging three feet above eye-level on the far wall, and a sloping incline ending at a centered drain embedded into stone. It was improvised, but still crude shower facilities for any active member of the grotto to use after sex play. The drains had seen soapy water, piss, and feces and even blood circling to escape and reach the sewers below. It could be a scary place for the uninitiated or reserved.
What this dungeon offered that no place could was privacy and the security of a closely guarded secret as well as the knowledge that no one could blackmail you here. No cameras were ever allowed, patrons were encouraged never to use their real names, a strict code enforced and the vetting of members eliminated any chance that you weren’t who you said you claimed to be. But all that security wasn’t full proof. In their efforts of screening members for entry they overlooked the males who would be brought there as fresh meat, but that wouldn’t occur to them until it was far too late.
The grotto had been a throwback from another area, constructed for unknown reasons for the business upstairs which had failed decades earlier. The building had been purchased, and then renovated into The Pony by a consortium of investors with a finely crafted plan. The property itself had been chosen because of the facilities downstairs, which could be altered only slightly for their involved purpose. It was a magician’s trick, a slight of hand, a whirling distraction, because when the city’s first gay bar opened all eyes were on the business and not what was being constructed downstairs.
There were prominent members of conventional society who were affiliated with the Blue Square Grotto, one of the most highly regarded was State Senator Alger M. Gellis. But when your sickness and proclivities can turn into your undoing, you learn to hide your immoral side. Such was the case with Senator Gellis. It had been a passing affair which brought him first to the circle, just a whispered conversation between men before a small, white business card was slid across the table. When Gellis picked it up he only saw the Blue Square emblem but no business name, address or slogan. The only writing on the card was the nondescript numbers printed beneath the blue logo and nothing more.
Gellis had been accepted into a secret, but not because of his power or reputation, not because he could afford the dues or was in the position to assist their endeavors...but because his desires ran deeper and darker than most. He’d proven his commitment to the lifestyle when he’d first passed through someone’s door for sexual play and dropped his clothing and the others saw a lean, muscular figure wearing an array of leather and the uniformed garb of a man with a defined resolution...one prone to enjoy the shadier side of his wicked kinks.
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Rodd Clark currently resides in Dallas TX. He shares his life with numerous cats, dogs and his partner of many years. He has projects under his belt and is working on many others. Some of his works are “There Is Always Another Boogey Man”, “Jesse”, “Justice Denied”, “Short Ride to Hell” and the recently completed “A Cache of Killers”. Already penning his next work, Rodd likes to keep busy with writing and reading and of course his menagerie of critters.