Master of Lust-Chapter 190: Aftermath of Rick and Megan

Chapter – 190

After relieving himself, Rick stretched his limbs with a satisfying groan, feeling the tension melt away. Meanwhile, Megan lay sprawled out, looking almost lifeless, drained by their encounter.

As Rick began to dress himself, his movements were smooth and deliberate, each motion purposeful. He tightened his belt, adjusted his collar, and straightened his clothes with a sense of calm confidence.

But then, something caught his eye, a detail out of place that sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. The cupboard door was ajar, just slightly, but it was enough to set his heart racing with curiosity and apprehension.

Rick felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, out of curiosity. With cautious steps, he approached the cupboard, his mind racing with possibilities.

"What's in there?" he muttered to himself, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for the door. The thought of someone lurking inside, someone peeping at him from inside, gave him shivers down his limbs. Rick was flabbergasted at the thought of someone inside it.

With a deep breath, Rick braced himself and gave the cupboard door a firm push, but it resisted, only swinging halfway on its hinge. It was as if someone had deliberately locked it. Rick's curiosity turned to apprehension as he peered into the darkness within.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the cracks, Rick's jaw practically dropped to the floor. Inside the cupboard were two boys, bound by thick ropes that snaked around them and looped through the hinge. They looked like prisoners of some twisted dungeon, their faces drained of color and their bodies limp with exhaustion.

Rick's hands trembled as he reached out to touch them, and they slumped forward, collapsing into his arms. He staggered under their weight, unable to bear their burden, and they tumbled to the ground with a dull thud.

Turning them over, Rick's shock deepened into horror as he saw the state they were in. Their faces were ghostly pale, their breath shallow and ragged. It was clear they were on the brink of unconsciousness, their bodies weakened and broken.

Rick's mind raced with a thousand questions, but one thing was certain: he needed to get them help, and fast.

Cradling the two limp bodies in his arms, Rick's mind spun with a whirlwind of questions, each one more pressing than the last.

"I swear I've seen them before... but where?" Rick's brow furrowed in confusion as he struggled to place the faces of the unconscious boys.

"What had brought them to this hidden corner, tucked away in the depths of the cupboard? Were they trying to hide here? Or had someone stuffed them here?" The possibilities raced through Rick's mind like a stampede, leaving him reeling with uncertainty.

Despite the haze of panic and confusion clouding their features, Rick couldn't shake the feeling that he knew them from somewhere. Their faces flickered in his memory like distant stars in the night sky, just out of reach.

Desperation clawed at Rick's chest as he frantically tried to piece together the puzzle, but each attempt only left him more bewildered than before.

With curiosity running through his veins, Rick gently shook the boys, trying to rouse them from their near-catatonic state, "Are you guys okay?" He asked.

One of the boys stirred, his fingers twitching slightly as they rested on Rick's shoulder. With a soft groan, he struggled to pry open his eyes, his voice a feeble whisper barely audible in the tense silence of the room. It was as if they had been drained of every ounce of energy, leaving them barely clinging to consciousness.

Rick leaned in closer, pressing his ear against their chests, his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. With bated breath, he listened for the reassuring rhythm of life, his body tensing with each passing second. And then, finally, he heard it—the steady thump of their hearts, a lifeline in the darkness.

Relief flooded through Rick like a wave crashing against the shore, washing away some of the fear and uncertainty that had gripped him. They were alive, thank the heavens, but they were far from out of the woods.

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As he knelt beside them, Rick couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the sight of their weakened state. Whatever ordeal they had been through, it had left them battered and broken, their spirits as fragile as glass.

"I don't know who did this to them, but they need help, and they need it now," Rick admitted.

As Rick continued his assessment, a chilling realization dawned on him, shattering the fragile sense of calm that had briefly settled over him. His eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight of burns and bruises marbling the boys' pallid skin, angry red welts standing out like scars on a battlefield.

The marks painted a grim picture of suffering, each one a testament to the pain these boys had endured. Rick's stomach churned with a sickening mix of dread and disbelief as he traced his fingers over their tender flesh, feeling the heat of blistered skin beneath his touch.

"The boys... They have been through hell... The pain they must have endured..." Rick's voice trailed off into a whisper, his words heavy with the weight of his realization.

His mind raced with a torrent of questions, each one more troubling than the last.

'What had led these boys to suffer such horrors?'

'Who could be capable of inflicting such cruelty?'

The bruises and burns reflected a clear picture of suffering and trauma, leaving Rick with a sense of helplessness and anger. As Rick examined the two boys further, he noticed disturbing signs of bite marks on their hands. The discovery added another layer of mystery to their condition, leaving Rick even more puzzled and concerned.

"These bite marks... they're a sign of something much worse," Rick murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. It was clear now that these boys had been more than just victims of physical violence

Suddenly Rick's gaze traveled over the boy's rugged and spoiled outfits, a wave of sorrow washed over him. The state of their clothing told a story of struggle and desperation, confirming his suspicion that they had been undergone through a ruthless and merciless trauma.

Their torn fabric and stains hinted at the violence they had faced, while it's frayed edges spoke of their endless attempts to defend themselves against those traumatic events.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, recognition struck Rick square in the chest. His eyes widened in shock as he realized where he had seen those faces before.

"Holy shit!" Rick cursed under his breath, a flood of memories rushing back to him. "How did I not recognize them sooner?" he wondered aloud, his voice tinged with frustration.

"They're the same guys I saw hanging around the lecture hall that day, when I was following Tyler," Rick recalled, his mind racing to piece together the puzzle. "They were just... chatting, like nothing was wrong."

As Rick stared at the battered figures before him, a whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind like a freight train on overdrive.

"Could they be working for Megan?" Rick pondered aloud, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. But as he studied them further, doubts crept in like shadows in the dark. Something just didn't add up.

"Nah, doesn't seem likely," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "But then why the hell are they here?" The question hung in the air, unanswered and unsettling.

"Could Megan and her girls be behind the boys' injuries?", Rick still had tremendous herd of questions in his mind.

Rick snapped back to reality at the agonized moans of the boys, their cries pulling him from the depths of his thoughts. His eyes darted to the cupboard, his curiosity piqued by the presence of some mysterious device nestled within. It was like an electric device on it's interior wall.

"Come on, come on..." Rick muttered under his breath, his hand groping desperately for any sign of the elusive object. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more tantalizing than the last.

And then, just as his fingers brushed against something cold and metallic.

"Gotcha!" Rick exclaimed triumphantly, his voice echoing in the silence of the room

The electric panel had many switches, encased in a white painted steel box. Rick wondered at how the gadget was going to work. He inspected the panel thoroughly, with a hope of knowing something about it.

Rick peeped inside the cupboard and was startled and curious to locate a door behind it. After seeing the mysterious door, he knew one thing about the device, that it was helpful in unlocking the door.

Rick tried to operate the electric panel. Rick's tension heighted even more than before , unable to unlock the door. He got curious to knew what was behind the door. Thinking of some clue behind it, he tried to operate the panel again and again, but every attempt of him, failed at an unexpected twist.

Puzzled and at a loss for what to do next, Rick's mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and ideas. And then, like a bolt from the blue, inspiration struck him like a lightning bolt. Megan! She was the one who had orchestrated all of this, the mastermind behind the madness. Surely she would know how to unlock the door.

Rick rushed to Megan, who was still lying unconscious on the floor. She was partly dead , her lower eyelids slightly parting away from the upper one, letting her iris visible a bit.

As he knelt beside her motionless form, Rick's heart sank at the sight of her lying there, her eyes half-opened, revealing just a sliver of her iris. She looked like a doll abandoned by its owner, devoid of life or purpose.

Leaning in close, Rick shook Megan gently, his voice laced with frustration and urgency. "Hey, you," he muttered through gritted teeth, "Wake up. I need your help."

"Do you know how to work the electrical panel?" he asked, his tone tinged with impatience.

But Megan remained unresponsive, her breaths shallow and barely perceptible. Rick's patience wore thin as he called out to her again, his words tinged with anger and desperation.

"Come on, Megan," he spoke, his voice rising in pitch, "I know you are in there. Help me out here, will you my beautiful teacher?"

But there was no response, no flicker of recognition in Megan's glazed eyes. She lay there, a silent witness to Rick's mounting frustration and rage.

"Come on, you sexy whore," Rick growled, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and desperation. "Can you hear me?"

*****