Page 105 of The Ghost of Rage's War

Fury howled and passed out numerous times, only to have Volcano revive him several times. Once they were a mass of open wounds, Carter pulled a box of salt from his pocket and rubbed it into Fury’s feet.

Fury moaned in agony.

“Gag him,” Spike ordered, and Volcano did. Spike beat on Fury a few more times and then used a blowtorch from Irish’s bag to burn his toes off.

“His heart okay?” Drake asked. He did not want Fury cheating them.

“Yeah, fucker ain’t gonna die yet,” Spike said after checking.

Washington shot Fury in both his knees and then elbows. That satisfied him. Drake didn’t know what to do. He walked around the beaten mess and pursed his lips.

“If my daughter was here, she’d cut your cock off and either choke you with it or shove it up your ass. I ain’t Serenity. You lost, your men are dead, your family showed their true strength. You’re hated as much as dictators in the past. Nobody is going to grieve your death. You’ve not left a legacy that will be remembered for anything other than the asshole you are. I don’t have to beat on you. I already beat you,” Drake said.

Fury went crazy, cursing and hissing, and Drake laughed. A weight lifted from his shoulders. Drake never flinched away from handling wet work, but this time, he didn’t need it. His words hurt Fury worsethan his fists.

“You will be struck from the Founder’s list. Removed from all traces of Rage documentation. There’ll be no trace you ever existed. The MC you so desperately wanted won’t know of your name in two generations. I’m going to pass a law that your name never crosses a brother’s lip in relation to club. You’ll be forgotten as everything except an enemy to Rapid City. Someone we came together to beat and defend our home.

“I’ve got the blood of two good guys on me. Men who may yet die. They’ll be remembered, honoured if they do. Grey and Calamity will never be fuckin’ forgotten. Not like you, an unmarked grave, and struck from the records of Rage. You are nothing, Fury,” Drake hissed.

“I am Rage! You can’t cut me out!” Fury began ranting and shouting. Drake laughed at him.

“Pathetic. Arrow’s legacy will grow, as will Norfolk’s, Spike’s, and Axel’s,” Drake taunted and stepped back. “Anyone else want a go?”

“I ain’t finished, but I can wait,” Irish answered.

“Go for it, woman,” Spike said.

Irish grinned, and Grunt stepped up. “Grab his cock, dude,” Irish ordered.

Grunt looked disgusted but did. Irish pulled out a long piece of metal with a twisty top.

“What the hell is that?” Volcano demanded.

“A urethral stretcher. Men use them to insert into their urethra. Fuck knows why, I hear they can be incredibly painful.”

Drake and the others had all cupped their cocks as Irish chortled. “Have you been talking to Serenity?”

“She helped me build this idea, yeah,” Irish replied. She shoved it into Fury’s urethra, and he screamed in a high-pitched tone before passing out.

“God, he faints more than a girl at a boy band concert,” Irish complained, unimpressed. Volcano woke Fury up again, and Irish continued.

“Now we twist this little top, and it stretches the urethra,” Irish explained.

Ramirez and Ben paled while Nando backed away with Carter.

“And finally, the pièce de resistance,”Irish crowed. She inserted a thin wire into the urethral stretcher and shoved it down inside.

Drake frowned. What the fuck? Irish picked up a stun gun and clipped the wire to it.

“Shit!” Spike hissed, his eyes widened.

Irish grinned and turned it on for two seconds. Drake thought Fury might have burst his voice box with the scream that emerged from him. His eyes rolled up, but he didn’t faint as aftershocks ran through his body, jolting him.

Irish let Fury settle down and repeated her actions.

“Wanna try?” she asked Grunt, handing it to him. Grunt grinned and switched it on. Drake watched as Irish and Grunt played for the next ten minutes, with Volcano constantly waking Fury up.

Finally, they stopped, and all heads turned to Volcano.

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