The no-good-very-bad day.

Rick Benning is having a great day. He's closed a major sales deal, a ten per-cent commission, and he managed to stuff his competition's dick in the dirt. He's got a sexy new intern, fresh out of school and eager like a puppy to make a good impression. He's got his bitches coming over tonight to play, and he's got his ex-wife right where he needs her. He's even got that faggot Lazlo's number; he's going to give the fucker one chance to make things right, and then he's going to out that bastard and his little bun-boy, ruin their fucking lives. The faggot will have to crawl back and beg for his help, and maybe he'll make them lick his boots before he agrees to keep quiet. And if he does out them, he will totally enjoy watching the news as they burn down Lazlo's entire world. He can practically hear the headlines: MAYOR'S OFFICE MANAGER IN LATE NIGHT GAY **** GAMES. He chuckles to himself as he turns to walk down the street toward the little bistro where he always buys lunch. The waitress there is a cute little blonde, kinda like Anne before she put on weight; Rick allows himself to imagine the waitress under the counter top, sucking his cock like a good girl while he-

"Excuse me," says a tall brown-haired man in a business suit, the man walking toward him going the other way, trying to go around him.

"Go around me, dickhead," Rick growls, bristling up and grinning evilly. "I got the right of way."

"Of course," the man says, stepping to the side so Rick can pass. It gives Rick a warm rush of pleasure making the other man back down.

That doesn't last more than a second though. As he is even with the guy, he feels a sudden sharp impact in his gut as the man punches him, hard. Rick is doubling over when the man hits him again, this time right in the center of the chest, driving all the air from his body. There's the sound of squealing tires as a large black Ford Transit van swerves up next to them, the side door sliding open as two more rough-looking men jump out and grab his arms. Before he can do anything, they've lifted him up into the van, dropped him on the floor, stretched a pre-cut piece of duct tape over his mouth before he can catch his breath. He tries to fight, but they have him pinned solidly to the floor of the van, which is already moving again. Someone pulls a thick black hood over his head, and he feels plastic cuffs tighten around his wrists and feet. He tries to scream, but the tape and the hood make that impossible; he feels a biting pain in his arm, a needle. Moments later, the world spins, and he loses consciousness.

Rick has no idea how long he's out. He wakes up, head pounding, all his muscles aching, his mouth dry and sour. He feels sick to his stomach. He's naked, laying on a cement floor, fresh vomit pooled under his cheek. He tries to sit up, and realizes his hands and feet are still bound. Blind panic begins to rise inside him, and he looks around quickly, trying to see any way out. The room is all concrete, maybe a dozen feet on a side. It's incredibly hot, sweat beading on his skin, and he can smell sweat and urine in the air. And maybe blood? His stomach does flips.

The solid steel door set into the far wall makes a rattling noise as someone turns a key in the lock. A bright flood light pops on, blinding him. He hears people coming in, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the room. Rick scuttles onto his side, trying to cover himself up, terror making his actions urgent, panicked. He can just make out three men have entered, and are now standing in front of him. The two on either side are dressed in gray jumpsuits, balaclava masks over their faces, billy clubs in hand. They are tough men, muscles and serious attitudes. The middle guy is Aden.

Rick opens his mouth to speak, but as soon as he inhales, the hard guy on the left hits him in the shin with the billy club, hard. Pain rockets up Rick's leg, and he screams. Aden kneels down to get on Rick's level, staring at him with a cold and deadly smile. "Hello, Rick," he says, his voice graveyard cool.

"You can't do this-" Rick starts, and the other hard guy hits him in the other shin. Again, Rick screams in pain.

"Have you ever heard of extraordinary rendition, Rick?" Aden asks. When the man doesn't answer, Aden nods. "There are camps, all around the world, where the government takes people they suspect of being involved in terrorism. Once you come in the doors, you kind of disappear."

Rick's face is wriggling with a combination of disbelief and horror. He starts to open his mouth to speak, but eyes the two men on either side of Aden. He makes the right decision.

"The people who run places like this, they don't report to anybody, not really. And, once someone is in this system, they can cycle through these camps for years." He stands back up and turns his back on Rick; the two men reach down, one for each arm, dragging him to his feet and along behind Aden. They had toward the door and out into a hallway full of similar doors. Somewhere, a man screams, and Rick can hear dogs barking and growling. Another man screams, somewhere else in the facility, and the lights flicker. Rick is crying now, the tips of his toes scuffling along the floor as they drag him down toward another set of doors. Aden stops, and turns toward Rick. "Did you know the CIA manual on **** techniques has 456 pages?"

Aden swings the door open, showing Rick a long surgical bench, an OR light above it. There's a tray of various tools, and a bank of six car batteries hooked up to a wire brush on the end of an insulated probe. There's a hose, and a funnel nearby. The two men drop Rick onto the concrete, scraping both of his knees. "Ever seen a man water-boarded, Rick?" Aden asks quietly.

Rick begins shaking his head nonono.

"Sometimes people die down here," Aden says. "There's a crematorium in the back to get rid of the corpses. Would you like to see it?"

Rick shakes his head even harder nononono.

Aden turns his back on Rick again, and motions toward the table. The two men pick Rick up off the floor and drop him roughly onto the bench, begin strapping his arms and legs down as Aden turns and picks up the insulated wand. "You like hurting people, don't you?" Aden says, and flips a switch. Sparks fly from the brush, and Rick squeals in terror, releasing his bowels, shit and piss flooding the bench and running along beneath him.

Aden leans forward so his face is a few inches from the bound man. "When I take you home, you will never speak to or about anything or anyone involved with the Cambridge. In particular, you will never mention anything about Lazlo's life or activities to anybody."

Rick nods his head quickly yesyesyes.

"You will never approach me, or anyone else involved, and you will never tell a single person what you have seen today."

Rick nods his head even faster yesyesyesyes. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, spit on his chin as he sobs.

"You will no longer restrict Anne's access to her children. In a few months, you will give up full custody to her. If you ever interfere with her or your children again, or if you violate any of the terms of our agreement, I will have you brought back here for the rest of your natural life, however short it may be."

Rick is nodding his head as fast as he can yesyesyesyesyes.

"And, just so we understand each other." Aden reaches down, and runs the electrified brush across Rick's genitals. There's a smell of ozone and evaporating sweat and burnt hair. Rick's screams are deafening, and when Aden stops, Rick is sobbing, totally broken, snot and tears and his own shit on his face. "Let's say a few years from now, Lazlo's secrets come out. Or maybe Anne gets hurt in a car accident. Or maybe I see you lurking around anybody who works at the hotel."

Rick is shaking his head nonononono.

"If anything like that was to happen, I would naturally assume our deal null and void, and I would ask my friends here to come get you and bring back here for the rest of your probably very short life." Aden clicks the batteries off, and smiles again. "You should probably take steps to make sure there's no way I could be upset with you. Maybe move to a different state or something."

Rick is nodding and shuddering yesyesyes. One of the men leans in on him, and he pisses himself again as he feels a sharp pain in the arm. Another needle. Seconds later, he's out again.

He wakes up in a dark alley, some time later. He's been dressed in his old clothes, but they haven't bothered to clean him, so he's covered in filth and stinks to high heaven. His balls ache where Aden shocked him, and his knees hurt where they scraped the concrete. And his rectum hurts as if something has been in there. Stumbling to his feet, shaking and sick to his stomach, he steps toward the mouth of the alleyway, and realizes he doesn't know where he is. That's when he feels paper in his pocket; he fishes it out and sees it's an envelope. With shaky hands, he opens it to see five glossy full colour photos of him, naked, with another man behind him. The angle in the picture hides that he's ****, it just looks like he's giving it up for a big macho stud...

Rick throws up, and begins crying as he slowly makes his way out to the street and begins looking for a way to get home.