After meeting the cute blonde twins, Rod paused to turn and admire the sashaying twink's back as he crossed the street toward that abandoned building. He waited expecting Chad to retreat when no one answered, then Rod would swoop in like- what? The door opened? Chad disappeared inside?
Rod was sure it was a vacant building. Maybe it had just reopened. But there'd been no workmen, no deliveries, at least that Rod had seen, and he practically spent every hour of every day on this street. He crossed over toward the Ganymede Spa. He walked up the steps, and pushed the bell. No buzz, no ring - just silence. He waited. Pushed the bell again, and then knocked.
A voice from the street shouted, "You're wasting your time, that place has been out of business for years. No one's going to answer."
"But I just saw someone go in!" Rod replied.
"Must be seeing ghosts," the guy said as he walked off shaking his head.
"Ghosts?" Rod muttered. He didn't believe in ghosts.
He shook the sturdy door by the handle. It didn't budge at all. It was like it was nailed shut from the inside. Rod wasn't getting in this way, and he was pretty sure that Chad wasn't getting out that way either.
Rod shook his head, and strode purposefully down the street. When he came to an alleyway between buildings, he cut to the back alley and his way up the alley to where the back of the Ganymede Spa should be.
There was a loading dock and closed steel doors. No windows. He tried the doors, they were locked. He heard someone inside turning the door handle. He dropped off the edge as the door opened and two guys came out chatting.
"Be careful, you don't want to lock us out," said one of the men.
"I don't know why we can't smoke inside,"muttered the other.
"It's against the law," answered the first.
Both burst out laughing.
They started chatting about the new project they were working on.
"Once he's processed, he'll make a fine slaveboy."
"Sh, boss doesn't like us talking about it."
"Nah, no one's out here but us. But we should get back, it's time we started processing the greenie." He flicked his cigar sending hot ashes raining down on Rod.
Rod heard them walking away, and the door creaking shut. He bolted up from his hiding place in the alley and across the loading dock platform. He caught the door before it latched. Then he listened at the crack to male sure no one was lingering inside the door.
Chad must be the greenie those thugs were going to "process". Rod slowly opened the creaking door just wide enough for him to slip through. Then he gently closed it. He heard it latch ominously with a loud click.
"I tell you I closed the door!" protested the guy who flicked the ashes.
"The alarm light showed the door open."
"Well, that door swings slowly. I'm sure it's shut now."
"It better be!"
Rod hid behind an open crate, as the two re-entered. The second guy tried the door, shaking it to make sure it was locked.
"See nothing to worry about," said Ash flicker.
"You should have pulled it shut! Someone could have come in while it was ajar. Now you go shut up the front office and meet me in the back to help process junior."
"You mean, Chad?"
"Oh, you must not have read its work order, he ain't going answer to Chad much longer."
"Another dog boy? A gimp?"
"Read the work order, like you were supposed to, after cleaning up. Now hurry up or you will miss all the fun stuff.
Rod snuck out of his hiding place. He glanced in the open crate. He was surprised to see fetters for ankles, wrists, and a steel collar mounted to short chains hanging from inside the crate. Rod had to wonder if the open crate was waiting for Chad after "processing".
The orange cream trousers tented, as Rod got an angry boner. He looked at the doorway. The two Speedo clad musclemen had gone opposite directions. Rod followed the hallway to the left. He peered into what must've been the front office. Most of the furniture was covered with sheets, ash flicker was struggling to cover the front counter with a large sheet. There was a doorway next to spying Rod marked locker room. Chad probably would have gone in there. Maybe Rod could catch him. There was a box with a yellow stick 'em note on it sitting on a bench in front of an open locker.
"Bag, and box clothing for next subject," it read.
Rod recognized the green suit that Chad had worn hanging in the open locker. Rod's eyes locked on the shiny green thong hanging from the top hook in the locker. Chad was naked and at the musclemen's mercy. Rod grabbed the thong. Held the pouch to his face, and inhaled Chad's scent like a bloodhound. He was going to find Chad. He crumpled the thong and thrust it into his front pocket oddly thinking Chad would need it when Rod found him.
Rod exited through the shower room, but paused as he heard voices from the other side of the doorway. He peeked around the corner, and saw naked Chad getting foamed by the Speedo boys. He licked his lips, Rod was happy to see that Chad's bulge hadn't been stuffed.
"Okay, Brendan, I just gave the subject his first two injections. He needs two more shots every two hours. The syringes are numbered in sequence, don't skip a shot or be more than a few minutes late at administering them. And for goodness sake, don't mix up the order. Now be back here to give him his next shots in 2 hours."
Rod pressed himself into a shadowy corner as the men left Chad to stew in his resin shell. When they were gone, Rod exhaled and went in to inspect Chad. He rapped on the hard shiny resin shell, and was surprised at how hard it was.