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To Chase a Feather in the Wind	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1696 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
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Dennis’ drug addled mind slowly returned to consciousness and opening his eyes, he discovered that he was in Conan’s arms and being carried down a flight of steps into what looked like a basement. His limbs felt heavy and his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, making it difficult to speak. He managed to let out a small moan as he tried to clear his mind of the narcotics that threaded an unseen cobweb through his veins but he was powerless against the effects. Whatever Conan had injected into him had put him into a state of complete numbness, both in mind and body and although at first he felt terrified, he quickly realized that numbness meant no discomfort. For the first time in a week, he was floating free from the dull stabbing pain that constantly throbbed inside his body. It was a relief that was both therapeutic and calming, the drug had anesthetized him from the pain, both physically and mentally and it felt good; he felt tranquil.
Strong arms lowered him down and he sighed contentedly as he sank against the softness of the mattress beneath him. He had slept on a cold cement floor for days and now, with a plump pillow beneath his head, he was in heaven. When a gentle hand caressed his cheek, he nuzzled against it like a cat seeking attention and soft laughter echoed throughout the room. “Do you like that baby doll?” Conan whispered.
Dennis grinned drowsily as tender fingers trailed over his flaccid cock. Closing his eyes, he took delight from the tingling sensation that ran through his body as his nerves came alive. “Mmm,” he murmured.
“Do you want Daddy to suck you before he has his fun?” Conan asked in a low, seductive voice tinged with malice.
“Mmm,” Dennis murmured again, his mind now too far gone from the effects of the drugs to understand the full implication of his captor’s words.
Grinning like a psychotic madman, Conan positioned himself over Dennis’ prone body. Gazing down at his victim’s beautiful sleepy face, he moistened his lips and lowering his head, he ran his tongue up the length of the lifeless shaft before sucking on the head.
Dennis’ body trembled as his nerves became stimulated and blood began to pump through his cock, bringing it to life. He let out a soft gurgling sound and saliva drooled from between his lips. He waited for the delightful sensation to continue, but instead, he felt a stinging blow to his cheek as a large hand slapped him across the face.
His eyes flew open in surprise and he stared up at Conan, wondering what he had done wrong. Unable to verbalize any words, tears of distress leaked from the corners of his eyes and trickling down his face, they soaked into the soft, white pillow laying beneath his head and disappeared like magic.
Grabbing a handkerchief out of his pocket, Conan scrubbed at the spittle that coated Dennis’ chin. “Filthy little pig,” he growled furiously. “Dribbling like the village idiot. Now Daddy’s gonna have to teach you a lesson.”
Whatever pretense of tenderness he had shown was now gone and bending Dennis’ legs at the knees, he forced them open and rammed his finger into his unprepared anus. Dennis’ eyes bulged as pain ripped through his insides once again and he let out a strangled cry. A second finger quickly followed the first and when the third and fourth finger entered him, he started to scream.
Another stinging blow to the head frightened him into silence and tears streamed down his face as Conan inserted his thumb and began to rotate his hand until it was completely inside. As his torturer fisted his hand in and out, Dennis’ rectal wall tore and blood seeped out onto the mattress below, forming a large red stain.
It was only when Dennis eventually lost consciousness that Conan stopped. Removing his hand, he stared at the bloody mess on the mattress and grinned. That would teach the little pig to dribble. It was all about training; Dennis was the pupil and he was the master. Pain was the great educator and he was sure his bitch would soon learn right from wrong. But if not, he still had plenty of lessons up his sleeve.
Wiping his bloody fingers down Dennis’ torso, he stared at the abstract design the sanguine fluid made against the tanned skin. It was mesmerizing in its beauty and he felt like an artist bringing life to a blank canvas. Reaching down, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his semi erect cock. Kneeling between Dennis’ open legs, he began to masturbate with one hand, whilst the index finger of the other traced patterns through the red liquid. When he finally climaxed, he shot his semen over Dennis’ stomach, adding the sticky white fluid to the conceptual painting forming over the taut skin.
A post orgasm calm washed over his body and he absently trailed a finger through the mess of bodily fluids coating Dennis’ stomach. Losing himself in the moment, his psychotic mind began to imagine what other lessons he could use to teach his slave respect.
**
Ted Granger was not the classiest of lawyers but even he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of underage pornography. Although Dennis was not underage, he knew in his heart that there was truth behind the allegation that the Teen Scene School of Modeling was a front for something more sinister and therefore, underage kids had been exploited. Staring at the low life sitting in front of him, he almost wanted to say to hell with it and walk away but he knew he could not. He was a lawyer and like it or not, he had to do what was best for his client.
Leaning back in his chair, he let out a weary sigh. There was no point in beating around the bush, he needed answers so that he knew what he was dealing with. “Do you know where he is?” he asked flatly.
John Steiner rubbed at his nose and glared at his lawyer with narrow eyes. “And if I do, how does that help me?”
Granger could feel his blood pressure rising but he attempted to stay calm. “How it helps you Mr. Steiner is that we can cut a deal with the prosecutor. We know you’re involved in this pornography ring but how involved you are depends on what you tell the police. If your information leads to the safe return of…” He paused for a moment and glancing down at his notes, he found the name he was looking for. “…Officer Booker, then it may just be deemed that you were an innocent bystander, unaware that it wasn’t all an act for the cameras. You probably won’t even serve any time inside.”
Steiner absently pulled at his lower lip as he carefully considered Granger’s words. He did not want to go to prison, he had seen too many rapes in his lifetime and the last thing he wanted was to become a victim himself. Taking a deep breath, he stared back at his lawyer. “I’ll draw you a map.”
**
Hanson stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched tightly closed as Penhall sped through the city streets towards the address that Steiner had eventually given them. In a written statement, the stocky man had detailed the whereabouts of the warehouse that was the location of the set that Ferris used for his pornographic movies. He also admitted that he had seen Dennis there but he emphasized that as far as he knew, he had been employed as an extra. When questioned further, he mentioned that when the movie was over, Dennis had become friendly with his co-star, a tall muscular man who went by the stage name Conan. It took another half an hour before he told them that Dennis had willingly left with Conan when the movie had finished but he had no idea where they went.
The information was only a small lead but Tom and Doug immediately acted upon it. Although doubtful that they would find Dennis at the warehouse, they needed to go there and investigate the scene. Judy and Harry stayed behind at the Chapel and started running the name Conan through the police database in the hopes of finding something. But again, the information was flimsy. Conan was a pseudonym and Steiner was adamant that he had no idea of the porn star’s real name. It was then that Fuller organized a warrant for Ferris’ arrest. He was the one man who would have the information they needed and this time, Adam Fuller would make him give up his secrets.
**
Penhall pulled up to the curb and slammed on the handbrake. Tom leaped from the car and ran down the rubbish filled alleyway, the stench of rotting food barely registering in his nostrils. When Penhall came up behind him, puffing heavily, he took out his gun and nodded towards the door. “On the count of three, one… two… three!”
The door of the warehouse crashed inwards and Tom entered cautiously. Looking quickly left to right, he signaled for Penhall to check the room that led off from the main area. If the storehouse had been the location for an adult movie set, there was no evidence left now. The room was devoid of any furniture or equipment and the only telltale sign that it had ever been occupied, was a broom propped up in the corner.
Penhall walked out of the side room and holstered his gun. “It’s empty,” he informed his partner in a despondent voice. “It’s just a room with a bathroom but…” His voice trailed off and his expression became anguished. “Tommy, there’s… oh Jesus… there’s blood on the floor.”
Tom’s vision blurred and the room began to spin. Stumbling forward, he dropped to his knees and vomited onto the cement floor. He had refused to believe that Booker could be dead but now it was a very real possibility and if it was true, he knew he would never forgive himself for failing to save him.
**
Dennis’ eyes fluttered open and he moaned as a sharp pain stabbed deep inside his anus. Gasping for breath, he pulled himself into a sitting position and immediately the foul smell of semen and blood assaulted his nostrils. Looking down, he gagged when he saw the vile sticky mess coating his stomach and dropping to his hands, he spewed up the meager amount of food in his stomach along with copious amounts of watery bile. Minutes passed and when he had nothing left to pass, the sound of him dry heaving echoed throughout the small basement. Pain wracked his body and he knew the effects of the drugs were wearing off. It was a bittersweet feeling; when he was sober, he was no longer a mindless automaton, ruled by the depraved actions of a lunatic. But on the counter side, the drugs numbed the pain in both his body and mind and without the effects, he feared slipping into his own form of madness. The fabric of his mind was slowly tearing apart and it was easier to live in the fantasy world he had started to create. The fantasy that made him feel bad that he had made Conan so angry when he was trying to do something nice for him, the fantasy that none of it was Conan’s fault and lastly, the fantasy that he now had a nice safe place to live, free from the lights and cameras. He was unaware that he was slipping into what was commonly known as Stockholm syndrome, a psychological phenomenon in which hostages felt empathy and sympathy toward their captor. It was a coping mechanism, a way for the ego to defend itself. When the victim believed the same values as the aggressor, they ceased to be a threat and therefore, the victim no longer felt mistreated.
Lying his throbbing body back down on the soiled mattress, he drew his knees up to his chest and closed his eyes. He would have to try harder to be good and please Daddy because it was a well known fact, Daddy always knew best.
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To Chase a Feather in the Wind