Gavin's Rock (Chapter 5) - Rescue Mission

 

[Dinah vs Taz]

Dinah sat on the edge of the worn sofa in the small, modest living room, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was filled with the familiar warmth of home—the faint scent of fresh-baked bread lingering in the air, the soft light from the lamp casting a golden glow across the faded wallpaper. But tonight, the comfort of home did little to soothe the worry gnawing at her. She fiddled with the edge of her dress, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to steady her nerves.

Across from her, Emily Skylar, her mother, sat quietly, her face a mask of calm that only a mother could maintain in the face of such danger. But Dinah could see the worry in her mother’s eyes, the way her hands tightened around the knitting needles she held, even though she wasn’t knitting anything at the moment.

"Are you sure you’re going to do this?" Emily’s voice broke the silence, soft and filled with the kind of concern only a mother could have. Her eyes searched Dinah’s face, looking for any sign of hesitation.

Dinah nodded, her resolve hardening. "I have to, Mom. If we don’t stand up now, things will never change. We’ll be trapped in this nightmare forever."

Emily’s lips pressed into a thin line as she reached out to place a hand over Dinah’s. Her touch was warm, reassuring, but there was an unspoken fear beneath it—fear for her daughter’s safety, fear of what might happen if things went wrong. "I’m proud of you, Dinah," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "But as your mother, I can’t help but worry. The dangers out there... they’re real. You’re my only girl."

Dinah squeezed her mother’s hand, drawing strength from her words. "I know, Mom. But this fight—it’s bigger than just us. We can’t let Gabriel and his men keep doing what they’re doing. If we don’t take a stand, who will?"

Emily nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She knew her daughter was right, even if every instinct in her body screamed to keep her safe, to keep her close. "Alright," she said finally, her voice steadying. "But we have to be careful. Every step of the way."

Dinah reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial of clear liquid, holding it up between them. "Here’s the sleeping drug," she said quietly. "Madelyn got it from Chief Routledge. It’s strong enough to knock him out for hours, maybe even longer. Once Dad’s asleep, I’ll slip into his room, duplicate his key, and find the blueprint of Gabriel’s mansion."

Emily took the vial from Dinah’s hand, her fingers brushing against her daughter’s, the contact grounding her in the reality of what they were about to do. "I’ll make sure he drinks it," she promised, her voice filled with a quiet determination. "But Dinah, be careful. One wrong move, and..." Her voice trailed off, the unspoken consequences hanging heavy in the air.

Dinah nodded again, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I will, Mom. I promise."

Just then, the door creaked open, and both women turned as the tall, imposing figure of Taz Skylar filled the doorway. At forty-five, Taz was still a force to be reckoned with—tall, broad-shouldered, with the hard, chiseled features of a man who had spent his life in service to the island’s brutal regime. His denim jacket and blue jeans, the uniform of the Watchdogs, clung to his muscular frame, the fabric straining slightly as he moved. The tattoo of a snarling dog on his forearm seemed to move with him, a constant reminder of his allegiance.

As usual, Taz's mood wasn't good as he came home from his work at Gabriel's mansion. Alpha and Thor had barked at him aggressively whenever they came close to him, some women of Gabriel's harem claimed to be sick and not to be able to serve their Master, and Taz had to bring them to a doctor. To make things worse, Dr. Koller had come to speak to Gabriel, and the scientist had seen through Taz as if he was just some irrelevant, anonymous servant.

In the evening, Taz had to watch Gabriel having sex with two young girls, and also Gabriel had ignored his horny guard during the session. Taz clenched his fists. "May the Phallus have mercy with you if my dinner's not ready!", he growled, seeing his wife and his useless daughter.

"Of course, darling!", Emily said anxiously. "Your favorite one... a big bloody steak!" Taz just nodded briskly, and sat down. "So what have you two done all day, while I worked for our living?", he asked the women with a threatening undertone. "I was cleaning up the house ... was shopping for groceries.... prepared dinner...", Emily stammered. "Dinah was..."

"I'm sure she can talk herself, can't she?", Taz interrupted her. "Well, I was at school... and at my cooking course...", his daughter said with a low voice, but still less frightened than her mother.

"I heard you got into trouble with Damian, his cousin and another friend? Do you have something to say about that?"

"Nothing special happened, dad", Dinah lied. "We were just having some fun... together..." - "Ha! I can imagine that kind of fun! You let yourself be fucked by three boys, I guess. Little bitch! I should beat the shit out of you..."

"No, dad, really not!", Dinah said, now in real fear of her violent father. "Damian Koller invited me..."

"Koller's son is interested in you, huh?!" Taz thought about it. He couldn't stand Paul Koller and his snobbish son, but still, such a relation with the scientist's family could perhaps boost his career.

"I'll be watching you!", Taz snarled, while he ate his steak. "Go upstairs now! I have something to talk about to your mother!" Emily went pale, while Taz's dick was already twitching in his tight jeans.

"A good, hard fuck after a tough working day, that's what a man deserves", Taz thought, finishing his dinner. Emily shortly went to the kitchen, and came back with a coffee. "I know you'd like this after a good dinner", she said with a slightly shaking voice. Taz grinned, reached for the coffee cup, and emptied it in one second. "Aaaah, good... What's up? You look nervous... something wrong with you?"

"Everything is fine, I was looking forward to tonight all day", Emily whispered, looking at the floor. "I bet you did! You're a bitch like your daughter! Now let's... let us ... oh, what is... what's..." Taz wanted to stand up, but staggered, and had to hold on to the table. For a second, he saw Emily looking curiously at him, then his sight blurred, and his head crashed on his plate. "Good to see you enjoyed your dinner, my beloved husband", Emily smiled. "Sleep well..."

At the same time, Dinah quietly descended the creaky wooden stairs, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of what she was about to do. “Mom, is Dad asleep?” she whispered as she approached the living room.

Emily, who had been standing by Taz’s chair, glanced at her daughter with a small, satisfied smirk. “This asshole is out cold,” she replied, her voice laced with a mix of relief and disdain.

A mischievous smile spread across Dinah’s face as she nodded. “Good.” Without wasting another moment, she made her way to her father’s workroom—a small, cluttered space that was more of a storage room than an office. Taz didn’t do much paperwork, so the room was mostly filled with old documents and random keys he couldn’t be bothered to keep organized.

Dinah rummaged through the drawers, her hands moving quickly as she searched for the spare keys she knew her father kept hidden. Her thoughts briefly wandered to how careless Taz was with his things, a trait that often frustrated her mother. "He has a memory like a sieve," she thought, shaking her head. "Well, all men are stupid, but he’s especially thick-headed. Reader, remember this: if you’re a man, you’re stupid. Moron! MORON!"

Finally, she found what she was looking for—a ring of keys that included a spare for nearly every lock in the house. Taz would never even notice they were missing. With a satisfied nod, she turned her attention to the real prize: the blueprint of Gabriel’s mansion. It was hidden among a pile of old maps and charts, but Dinah knew exactly where to look. She pulled out the carefully folded paper and laid it flat on the desk, tracing her fingers over the lines that detailed every room, every hidden passage. She’s also diasbling her and her mother collar remote. She’s a smart one. She destined to be great.

Diah took a deep breath, the weight of her mission pressing down on her. "Okay, everything is settled," she whispered to herself, folding the map and slipping it into her bag.

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Emily stood over Taz’s sleeping form, her emotions a tumultuous mix of contempt and triumph. Dinah had told her everything—about the men’s weakness, about how they weren’t the invincible creatures they pretended to be. As she looked down at her husband, who had always seemed so strong, so untouchable, she realized that he was nothing more than an overgrown boy. He was weak. His so-called manhood was nothing but a vulnerability.

A wicked thought crossed Emily’s mind, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. "I could kick him in hus stupid balls, i mean junk, right now," she mused, feeling the temptation rise within her. "But wouldn’t it be more satisfying to do it while he’s awake, to see the fear in his eyes?"

But another idea took root in her mind, one that was equally twisted but far more devious. She reached into the drawer beside the chair and pulled out a tube of superglue. Her hands moved with a calm, deliberate precision as she unzipped Taz’s jeans, exposing his dick and balls to the cold air. With a gleeful smirk, she applied the glue to his most sensitive area, then carefully pressed his jeans back into place, ensuring they would stay firmly attached when he woke up.

Emily couldn’t contain her laughter as she stepped back, imagining the panic that would ensue when Taz realized what had happened. But then, a flicker of doubt crossed her mind. "What if he wakes up now?" she thought, her heart skipping a beat.

At that moment, Dinah reappeared at the top of the stairs, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Mom, I’m going to meet with my friends. I got everything. Dad won’t know a thing.”

Emily’s eyes widened in panic. “But Dinah… I… I put glue on his dick!”

Dinah burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet house. “Poor Dad! Ah, he’s going to freak out! Just let it be. If he wakes up, act like someone attacked you. I’ll write a note, make it look like the work of the Island Banshee. He’s stupid enough to believe it. He’s so stupid. Men are useless jerk that has no meaning in life. A waster. Men are waste and trash, mom”

When she noticed that her husband's breathing became faster, and he started to moan, Emily put Dinah's note next to Taz on the table, and lay herself on the floor, pretending to be unconscious. Taz finally woke up. "Uagh... what happened..." He wiped some steak sauce from his face, and then saw his wife on the floor. "Emily... what the hell! What happened here?!" Emily played the awakening victim, and mumbled, shaking her head: "I don't know... I saw three big shadows entering the kitchen... heard some spooky female voices... they attacked us... then I must've fainted!" At this point, Taz noted the piece of paper on the table. He read it aloud, slowly, being out of training to read and write since his days at the basic school: "We are watching you. No man will escape... First Harry, then Cole, now you! Beware... This was just a first warning! Sincerely,  The Rock Witches!" Taz was stunned, he couldn't fully comprehend the message, and read it a second time. "What do you reckon this could mean?", he asked his wife. "A mystery!", Emily said, trying hard not to laugh about Dinah's idea. "What about Harry... Harry Styles? And Cole? Haven't seen them for a while". Taz shrugged. He had heard some rumours, but didn't want to talk about them to his wife. "No idea... Anyway, I'm fine... it seems... except..." He perceived a sticky, hot sensation on his manhood. Trying to adjust his jeans in his groin area, he suddenly cried "Ouch! Damn!" His dick and balls were apparently fixed somehow to the fabric! He pulled harder, and screamed even louder. "Aaaaghhh... what's wrong with my... my ..."

Emily hurried to him. "What's wrong with you, my love?", she asked, hiding her satisfaction to see Taz in fear and pain, and started to caress his bulge. "Did the bad witches hurt you somehow? My poor, poor Taz..." Taz's dick got hard, and tried to rise due to Emily's soft touch, but it hurt him terribly because the jeans fabric was firmly sticking to his skin. "Aaaaah! Stop! Don't touch me... don't make me... aaaaaah!", Taz cried. "It's sticking... to my jeans... it's caught... aaargh, my sack, too... ooouuuw!" Emily bit her tongue just to avoid her laughing. "Oh no! Those evil witches! It seems the holy Phallus has failed to protect you this time! Maybe we should visit Dr. Hodenberg if you're in pain down there!" - "No... no... it will ... get better..." Taz tried to pull down his pants, but he just caused himself more pain. "Aaaah fuuuuck!!!", he swore. "Ts, ts, ts! Such a mishap!", Emily said, biting her lips. Taz was now close to crying helplessly, she noticed, and she realized this made her feel great, for the first time after many months...

Later, stumbling into Hodenberg's clinic supported by Emily, Taz was surprised to see Damian and his redhead cousin there. "Damian! What are you doing here?" Damian and Yello blushed. "Just a follow-up examination... after a sport injury... Tough training with Mr. Mayhew, haha... And you?" Damian asked. "Just a routine check-up", Taz replied, but the boys noticed he was moving strangely, and seemed in pain with every step. "I heard you're dating my daughter now?", Taz asked Damian. The boy appeared uncomfortable. "Yes, well, no, not really... I mean, possibly...", he stuttered. "Let's talk about that from man to man at some point!", Taz growled, while he was walking limply into the doctor's office.

Taz hobbled awkwardly into Dr. Hodenberg’s office, his face twisted in a grimace of both pain and embarrassment. The clinic was quiet, the sterile smell of antiseptics hanging in the air. Dr. Hodenberg, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, looked up from his desk, where he had just finished tending to Damian, Yello and Lucas. Then before that Cole. Some weeks ago even Cole and Froy. Lately, the doctor had been seeing more patients than usual, and he couldn’t help but wonder what on earth was going on.

“Taz? Ah, what brings you here?” Dr. Hodenberg asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. “Thor and Alpha get a little too rough with you?” He knew Taz often guarded Gabriel’s mansion, where the wolves were always lurking.

Taz’s face flushed with embarrassment as he avoided the doctor’s eyes. “Dr. Hodenberg... my... my dick is glued to my jeans. It hurts like hell... Please, you gotta help me,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Hodenberg’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he had heard correctly. “Glued? To your jeans?” he repeated, trying to mask his shock with a look of professional concern. “What happened?”

Taz squirmed, clearly uncomfortable with the question. “I’d rather not talk about it,” he grumbled, his pride taking a hit as he stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Dr. Hodenberg simply nodded, deciding not to press the matter. “Well, well... let’s take a look,” he said, motioning for Taz to sit on the examination table. The doctor carefully unbuttoned the top of Taz’s jeans and inspected the situation. “Hmm... this glue is quite strong, but no worries. I’ll just need to pull the jeans off. It might hurt a bit, but you’re a Watchdog—you’re tough. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

Taz winced at the thought but nodded. He had been through worse, or so he told himself.

Dr. Hodenberg guided Taz to lie down on the examination bed. “It’s just a simple procedure,” he reassured. But just as he was about to start, the phone rang loudly on his desk. The doctor glanced at the caller ID and frowned. “Hold on a minute, Taz.”

He answered the phone and listened intently. After a brief conversation, he hung up, his expression apologetic. “Taz, I’m sorry, but Gabriel just called. Alpha’s hurting, and even though I’m not a vet, he wants me there to supervise the vet. You know how Gabriel is—I’m the second smartest person on this rock, after Koller, of course. So… I can’t do it right now. Could you wait an hour?”

“NO! I CAN’T STAND THIS FOR ANOTHER HOUR!” Taz roared, his voice laced with desperation and pain.

Emily, who had been standing quietly by the door, stepped forward. “Doctor, if it’s just pulling the jeans off, I can do it. It’s not that hard, right?”

Dr. Hodenberg hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Well, you’ll need to be careful, Miss Skylar. Women can’t do anything but I guess this time easy. You can do it. Taz, I’ll examine you again when I get back. I really can’t afford to have Gabriel angry with me.” With that, the doctor hurried out the door, leaving Taz in the less-than-gentle hands of his wife.

Emily watched the doctor leave, a mischievous glint sparking in her eyes. This was her chance. She turned back to Taz, who was lying on the examination bed, looking as if he was preparing for the worst.

“Don’t worry, babe. It’ll be okay,” Emily said, her voice sweet but with an edge of anticipation.

Taz braced himself, closing his eyes tightly as Emily took hold of his jeans. She gripped the waistband firmly, feeling the resistance where the glue had bonded fabric to flesh. Taking a deep breath, it’s time for her to hurt Taz.

“Alright, here we go!” Emily announced, and with a swift, determined yank, she pulled as hard as she could.

Taz’s eyes shot open wide, and a howl of pure agony echoed through the small clinic. “AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” he screamed

Taz howled like Thor and Alpha when someone stepped on their paws. He looked down at his hurting, limp dick. Some thin pieces of jeans fabric were still attached to it, and on the other parts, his dick skin was red and slightly bleeding. Also the skin on his scrotum hurt terribly. "Aaaaaah, fuck... Emily...." He wanted to slap her face, but she avoided it, and stood up. "My poor darling... Your manhood looks really bad... I can't bear it", Emily lied, enjoying the sight of his injured, bleeding dick, that hated  organ that had caused her so much pain in almost every night during the last years.  "Let's see, we must find something for desinfection..." She saw a little bottle with alcohol, and reached for it. "This will do!", she smirked, and applied it to Taz's dick before he could react. "AAAAAAAH! It's biting! It's burning.... Aaaaaaahrghh!!!" Taz couldn't stop screaming. He hoped that Damian and the other boys were already gone, so no one would here him. "I'm so sorry my dear, but we don't want your dick and your ballsies to get inflamed, right?", Emily asked innocently. "I'm sure Dr. Hodenberg would agree with me!" Taz clenched his teeth, promising himself he would fuck his wife so hard she wouldn't be able to walk properly for many days ... as soon as his manhood would recover from this ordeal.

The next night, under the cover of darkness, the three women moved with silent determination, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and resolve. Silla, Madelyn, and Dinah had donned their makeshift costumes, a blend of practicality and disguise that allowed them to blend into the shadows. The fabric clung to their forms, allowing for swift movement, while dark hoods concealed their faces. Each woman was a silhouette of determination, ready to face the dangers that lay ahead.

They had timed everything perfectly. Chase was out on patrol, ensuring that the Watchdogs were stationed across the island, oblivious to the rebellion brewing under their noses. Taz, Dinah’s father, was on duty at Gabriel’s mansion, his presence ironically aiding the women’s plan. Silla had slipped a potent drug into Alif’s coffee before leaving, ensuring he would be dead to the world until morning.

They had chosen an old Watchdog jeep for their mission, the battered vehicle blending into the night as they parked it a good distance from the mansion. The mansion loomed in the distance. The women moved on foot from there, the crunch of gravel beneath their boots the only sound breaking the silence as they approached their target.

As they neared the outer perimeter, Dinah gathered them into a tight huddle. Though she was the youngest among them, her sharp mind and keen instincts made her the natural strategist. Her voice was low, steady, carrying the weight of someone who understood the gravity of their mission. "Alright, listen up. Some of the high-ranking Watchdogs inside carry traditional weapons—maces, machetes, you name it. They patrol the interior and are just a notch below the admiral in terms of skill. The new recruits are stationed outside. They’re green and less experienced, but still dangerous if we’re not careful."

Madelyn’s eyes widened slightly. "Sounds tough," she murmured, gripping her stick a little tighter.

Dinah smirked, a glint of confidence in her eyes. "Felix is guarding the left wing. He’s two years older than me and thinks of himself as a big deal—tried to impress me by picking a fight with Damian once. Thought it would make him look like an alpha male. But trust me, he’s more bark than bite. Like all men, moron and useless."

The women shared a quiet laugh, the tension easing just a fraction as they prepared for what was to come. Dinah handed out small devices—voice changers, each one programmed to alter their voices just enough to keep them from being recognized. "These will keep anyone who knows us from catching on," she explained, her tone serious once more.

Madelyn tested hers, the device giving her voice a deeper, more masculine timbre. "Perfect," she said with a nod, the edge of excitement creeping into her voice.

Silla stepped forward to deliver the final instructions. "Our mission objective is clear: we’re here to rescue Bianca. Busting men’s balls is a side quest, but one I strongly encourage." A sly grin crossed her face, her whip coiled in her hand like a serpent ready to strike. "But don’t lose sight of the main objective. We get in, we get Bianca, and we get out. Don’t let the elite came. Gabriel is sleeping in the second floor. He should be oblivious to this."

Dinah passed Silla a small slip of paper with the night’s patrol schedule. "According to this, Benson and Taz are on duty inside tonight. Madelyn, your job is to keep them busy. Use the smoke bomb, then hide. Silla and I will head straight for Bianca. We regroup here once the mission is complete."

"Understood," Madelyn replied, her voice now firm with resolve.

The trio moved with stealth and precision, their movements synchronized as they approached the mansion’s left wing. The night air was cool, and the only light came from the distant torches lining the mansion’s entrance. Felix, the Watchdog Dinah had mentioned, stood at his post near a side door, his attention half-focused on the phone in his hand, where a naked photo of a woman held his gaze.

The women exchanged a quick look. This was their moment.

Dinah hesitated for a moment. "Whoa... he looks like a young movie star ...", she whispered to the two women next to her. "What a waste!", Madelyn remarked mockingly. "Don't let yourself be deceived", Silla warned the girl. "Many men look very handsome on this island, but inside, they're all chauvinist, sexist assholes! And believe me, they look even more appealing when they're in pain!" Madelyn and Dinah chuckled. "Couldn't agree with you more", Madelyn said. "Look at him... now he's watching a porn on his phone during his shift... It must be so boring, nothing ever happened so far ... No one ever dared to invade this fortress, the safest place on the island!" - "And now he's ... do you believe this?" Dinah snorted. The women chuckled as Felix slid his hand in his pants, stimulating his dick. "What useless creatures men are!", Madelyn wondered. "All the time thinking of sex, nothing else hardly ever on their stupid minds!"

"Let's make this night unforgettable for him!", Silla said. A bit louder, she addressed Felix from their hiding place: "Here I am, young soldier! Don't do it with your own hands... It's me, the girl from your screen... I want to take care of your big, hard cock..." - Felix flinched, and took the hand out of his pants, stupidly looking at his phone.

"Huh? How can you... Aaaaaaah!" Dinah had thrown a stone of the size of a man's fist right between his legs. The cellphone flew out of Felix's hands, and he bent over. "Oooouuw, my balls... aaaah... Shit! Who are you?!" Suddenly, three gloomy figures stood in front of him. Felix, totally confused and in pain, couldn't think clearly anymore. "What... what..." Silla had taken some sand from the ground, and threw it in Felix's face. "Here comes the sandwoman, time to go to sleep, boy!", Silla joked. "But with your hands over the blanket, naughty little bastard!" Felix raised his hands to protect his eyes, but it was too late, he couldn't see his enemies anymore. "Arghh, my eyes... stop...", he moaned, but before he could continue, Madelyn's stick hit him right on his balls from below. He screamed in pain again, and fell on his knees. Madelyn looked at him and then at her stick, a bit puzzled. "Wow... so effective! I'm getting better and better with this thing!" - "You've had some good practice recently", Silla laughed.

“Okay, one last kick!” Silla whispered with fierce determination, her eyes narrowed as she aimed one final blow at Felix’s most vulnerable spot. Her boot connected squarely with his groin, and the Watchdog’s face twisted in agony before he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. His body hit the dirt with a dull thud, his tongue lolling out and his once-threatening posture reduced to a pitiful heap. His swollen balls were a testament to Silla’s precision.

With a quick nod to each other, Silla and Madelyn grabbed Felix’s limp body and dragged him into the nearby bushes, ensuring he was well-hidden from any patrolling Watchdogs. The leaves rustled as they covered him, his unconscious form blending into the shadows. They couldn’t afford to have anyone stumble upon him before they completed their mission.

Panting slightly from the exertion, Silla straightened up and pulled out the key that Dinah had carefully taken from Taz’s room. She slipped it into the lock, the heavy door creaking open just enough for them to slip inside.

Madelyn turned to Silla, her heart racing as she embraced her. “Wish me luck,” she whispered, a small, nervous smile playing on her lips. Despite her outward show of confidence, fear gnawed at the edges of her resolve. It was her first mission, and she was going in alone. But she knew it was the right thing to do. Silla was heading straight into the heart of danger, the belly of the beast, and Madelyn’s role as a distraction was crucial. She just hoped she could stay hidden long enough to complete her task.

Silla gave her a reassuring squeeze before pulling back. “You’ve got this, Madelyn. Stay sharp. We have a communicator. But I need concentration. I’ll call you if we’re ready to get out.”

Madelyn nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself before turning towards the left wing. The corridor was lined with portraits, each one showcasing a stern-faced ancestor of Gabriel, their eyes seeming to follow her as she walked. The heavy, ornate frames only added to the oppressive atmosphere, and she couldn’t help but mutter under her breath, “This family sure is narcissistic.”

As she moved further into the corridor, the faint sound of voices reached her ears—Benson and Taz, their deep tones reverberating through the stone walls. Her heart pounded faster, and she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Madelyn positioned herself just out of sight, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the small smoke bomb in her pocket. She could hear their footsteps growing closer, their conversation becoming clearer.

Benson, wearing his sunglasses even at night, played with his brass knuckles while he talked to Taz. "Someone told me you had to visit the doc yesterday?", he asked his colleague. "Everything alright?"

Taz got annoyed. "This island is simply too small", he thought, "Everyone knows everyone else's business!". - "Who told you that?", he asked back in an irritated tone, thinking of Damian, his cousin, or maybe the doctor himself. "Anyway, it was just a routine check, I'm fine", he affirmed.

"But something is going on recently... the times of peace are over, we gotta be more vigilant! Something happened to Harry, and to Cole, but no one seems to know, what exactly... there may be more attacks... Some say the Rock Witches are back ..."

Benson laughed condescendingly. "They're just a legend! It says that Gavin Leister hunted and killed them when he conquered the island! But I guess something like that never existed!" Taz looked uncomfortable. "Not so sure of that!" Madelyn smiled when she heard that discussion of the two stupid guys. She adjusted her voice changer, giving her voice a fearsome, shrieking appearance, and screamed: "We're still here, and we want our island back!" Then she threw the smoke bomb in the direction of the two men.

Benson stood a bit closer to Madelyn than Taz, and as the smoke bomb went off, he was hit with the brunt of it. The thick cloud enveloped him, and though his sunglasses shielded his eyes somewhat, they didn’t do much to help him see through the haze. “Arghhh! Who’s there? A girl!” Benson shouted, his voice tinged with confusion and anger as he stumbled around blindly, one hand reaching out for something—anything—to steady himself. His other hand, however, betrayed his clumsiness as it smacked directly into the cold, hard stone of the wall. “Arghhh!” he yelped, recoiling and clutching his forehead, now throbbing from the impact.

Taz, sensing the danger, instinctively stepped backward, trying to distance himself from the swirling smoke. He squinted, his sharp instincts telling him to retreat before he was completely blinded. Unfortunately for Madelyn, the smoke didn’t have the full effect they had hoped for. The mansion’s high-powered air conditioning system pushed the air with more force than Dinah had calculated, dispersing the smoke faster than anticipated.

“Shit!” Madelyn cursed under her breath, realizing in an instant that her plan was unraveling. The odds had just shifted against her. She didn’t waste any more time; she bolted, her footsteps echoing through the corridor as she made a desperate dash for safety.

Taz, regaining his composure, growled at Benson, who was still floundering in the smoke. “Go after her, you moron! If Gabriel finds out we let her get away, we’re done for!” His voice was a harsh whisper, laced with the fear of Gabriel’s inevitable wrath.

But as Benson stumbled forward, still dazed and disoriented, Taz’s attention was suddenly drawn to a sound coming from the right wing. It was subtle, just a faint clatter, but enough to catch his experienced ear. His brow furrowed, and he hesitated for a moment, torn between the immediate chase and the unexpected noise. “What was that?” he muttered, more to himself than to Benson, before turning and heading towards the right wing, leaving Benson to fumble his way after Madelyn.

Meanwhile, in the right wing, Dinah’s heart nearly stopped as she collided with a suit of armor from Gabriel’s extensive collection. The metal clanged loudly in the quiet hall, the sound reverberating off the walls. Her breath caught in her throat, panic surging through her veins. "Shit, what if they heard that?" she whispered harshly, glancing nervously over her shoulder. The towering armor stood as a silent witness to her mistake, and she could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

“Silla, c’mon… hurry,” Dinah urged, her voice barely above a whisper

Benson assumed a fighting stance, wielding his machete in front of him to avoid an attack while his sight was still disturbed. When he finally recognized the costumed figure facing him, having only a thick, long stick in her hands, he laughed derogatorily. "A Rock Witch, huh? And that's your broom? Are you kidding me? You wanna fight a Watchdog with a stick? Stupid woman!" He swung his machete again, this time in Madelyn's direction. Madelyn took a step back, rotating her fighting stick. "I've brought some boys down with it recently! This stick made them cry like little kids, calling for their mommies! But I had mercy with them, I let them keep their manhood... With a grown asshole like you, I might not be so patient!" She avoided another machete blow, aimed at her stick. The machete's blade was glistening in the dim light. "He wants to cut my stick into pieces", Madelyn thought. She sweated. She knew this was probably the most dangerous situation of her life so far. "Focus, focus... no fear... He's strong, he's wild, his blade is sharp... but he's just a stupid, aggressive man", she told herself. Madelyn pretended to be more in fear than she actually was, and retreated towards the wall. Benson aimed at her, but she dodged his strike in the very last moment. As she had expected, Benson had forgotten the wall directly behind her. His weapon screeched on the stone, slid deeper, and hit a portrait of one of Gabriel's ancestors. The blade teared through the canvas, and finally got stuck in the thick wooden frame of the old painting. "Shit!", Benson cursed, as he desperately tried to free his weapon from the wood, while Gregor Leister the Third looked down at him from the canvas with a deprecating frown.

“Gabriel will kill me!” Benson tried to pull the machete. He didn’t want to risk his position. Benson had always been one of Chase’s favorite recruits. Madelyn had seen him at various Watchdog events, where he never missed an opportunity to show off his bravado. He was cocky, arrogant, and always ready to remind everyone just how dangerous he could be. But now, as she watched him stagger through the dissipating smoke, she noticed something that made her smirk. There he stood, legs wide apart, in a stance that left him completely exposed.

"Why?" Madelyn thought, a mixture of disbelief and amusement flashing through her mind. "Why do men have such an obvious weakness, and yet they still stand with their legs wide open?" It was almost too easy.

Madelyn gripped her stick tighter, feeling the smooth wood warm in her hands. She had one chance to take Benson down, and she wasn’t going to waste it. With all the force she could muster, she swung the stick directly at Benson’s groin. The stick connected with a sickening thud, the impact sending a shockwave of pain through Benson’s body. But Madelyn wasn’t done yet. She twisted the stick, driving the tip into his balls with a precise, thrusting motion, amplifying the agony tenfold.

“Eat that, boy!” she sneered, a victorious grin spreading across her face as she stepped back, watching with anticipation.

For a moment, Benson’s face went slack, his mind struggling to process the intense, blinding pain. His hands instinctively shot to his crotch, his knees buckling as the reality of what had just happened hit him like a freight train. A guttural, strangled cry escaped his lips, his bravado shattered in an instant. He crumpled to the floor, curling into a fetal position, his body trembling from the sheer force of the blow.

Even though he was an adult man, Benson had never received a hit in his balls up to that point. Aiming at the testicles was a strict taboo in the island's society, and especially in the sparring sessions among the men. Now he paid the prize for his ignoriance: he wasn't prepared at all for that kind of immense pain. It almost drove him crazy. Benson rolled around on the ground, cupping his bulge with his bands. "Ooooh, is the big boy crying now?", Madelyn taunted him. "You're just as pathetic as those school boys I hit with my stick! Maybe even more, because you're a grown man! A Watchdog - my ass! The whole male species is so ridiculous!" She felt the urge of finishing the big muscular man, towering over him like a hunter over his prey. Thinking of her previous fighting experience, she slapped her stick on Benson's thoat, hitting his Adam's apple. "Hrrghh", came a frightened, choked sound from the squirming man, and his hands went up to protect his throat. "Thank you for exposing my main target... again", Madelyn sneered, and sent a hard kick between the choking man's legs. "Hooooarggghhh", Benson cried, tears running from his bulging eyes. Madelyn held her stick in front of his face. "Kiss it", she demanded.

Madelyn felt an intoxicating surge of power course through her veins. For so long, she had been told what to do, how to behave, how to exist in a world dominated by men like Benson. But now, the tables had turned, and she was the one in control. “I’ve had enough of men telling me what to do,” she hissed, her voice dripping with contempt. “This is a taste of the future!”

With a savage grin, she raised her foot and brought it down hard on Benson’s already throbbing balls. The force of the stomp drove Benson to the edge, his body convulsing in pain. “ARGHHH OKAY! OKAY!!!” he screamed, his voice cracking as he desperately tried to appease her. Despite his size and strength, Benson was completely at her mercy, the agony in his groin reducing him to a blubbering mess.

Madelyn watched him with cold satisfaction as he leaned forward, his lips trembling as he kissed the stick she held out in front of him. Tears streamed down his face, and he could feel his balls swelling, the pain radiating through his entire body. They felt like they were twice their normal size now, throbbing with every beat of his heart. Madelyn, not satisfied, pressed her foot down harder, putting her full weight into the stomp.

“Pathetic,” she spat, her eyes narrowing as she leaned down to touch the edge of Benson’s mustache. “This mustache makes you look even more stupid,” she sneered, brushing it away as though it was nothing more than an annoyance. The sight of Benson, once so full of bravado, now kissing the stick in total submission, was both satisfying and sickening. He had surrendered completely, all his power stripped away, leaving him as nothing more than a quivering, broken shell of a man. Just trash with two swollen lumps and one pathetic hose dangling between his legs. "Ewww," she thought with disgust.

Madelyn wasn’t done yet. With a final, merciless stomp, she drove her foot into his groin again, the sound of Benson’s scream echoing through the corridor like a wounded animal. It was a sound of pure, unfiltered agony, and it sent a chill down her spine—a reminder of the power she now held.

At the same time, in the depths of the mansion, Silla and Dinah made their way down the dark, winding stairs to the basement. The air was thick and musty, the faint light from the torches casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. Silla’s mind raced with memories of this place, and as they reached the bottom, she paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. They were close now.

Silla’s sharp eyes scanned the rows of cells until she found the one she was looking for. "This is it," she murmured, pulling out the key. A smirk tugged at her lips as she approached the cell, the metal clinking softly in her hand. “So, you really believed I would come back?” she asked, her voice laced with a mix of confidence and playfulness.

Inside the darkened cell, Bianca stirred at the sound of Silla’s voice and the unmistakable jingle of keys. Her eyes, tired but fierce, locked onto Silla. “I knew this day would come,” Bianca replied, her voice filled with gratitude and steely resolve. “Thank you, sister. Gabriel won’t know what hit him…”

Silla and Bianca hugged each other, and Bianca couldn't stop sobbing. "After all this time...", she whispered. Silla kissed her, and whispered back: "Can you walk up the stairs? We have to get away as soon as we can! We're not enough persons to fight all those Watchdogs..." - "Well, I'll have to!", Bianca groaned. Silla was impressed by her inner strength. "Don't worry, I'll help you!" Silla was small, but the adrenaline gave her extra power. Together, they stumbled up the gloomy staircase, until a menacing silhouette fell upon them. "Where do you two bitches think you're going? Or should I say, witches?", Taz scoffed. He prepared his brass knuckles, imagining to slam them into the women's faces. "Well, better not in Bianca's face", he thought. "Gabriel wouldn't like it ... it would look awkward on his wedding pictures!"

Silla stood her ground, eyes locked on Taz as he descended the staircase. This wasn’t just any confrontation—this was personal. Taz wasn’t just another Watchdog; he was the man who had tormented Bianca for months, feeding her just enough to keep her alive while mocking her helplessness. And worse, he was the abusive father who had terrorized Dinah, leaving scars that ran far deeper than any physical wound.

Dinah pressed herself against the cold stone wall, trying to steady her trembling hands. The sight of her father brought a wave of fear crashing over her, a visceral reminder of the nights she had spent cowering in her room, waiting for the storm to pass. She wasn’t ready to face him—not yet. But she knew she couldn’t let him win. Bianca’s voice broke through the haze of fear, calm and unwavering. “Hey, I can’t fight yet... I’m still weak. Can you do the honor?”

Silla turned to Bianca and gave her a reassuring smile, one that spoke of the strength she had found within herself. “Of course,” she replied, her voice steady, as if this was just another mission. But it wasn’t. This was a reckoning.

As Taz reached the their stairs, he lunged at Silla with a punch, but she was quicker, sidestepping his attack with the grace of someone who had been preparing for this moment her entire life. Taz growled in frustration, his massive form towering over her. He had the advantage of size and strength, but Silla had something far more valuable—strategy.

With Taz on the upper staircase, Silla took a moment to assess her surroundings. The dim light flickered above them, casting long shadows across the basement. Then, an idea sparked in her mind. She took a deep breath, her hand inching toward the light switch on the wall.

In one swift motion, she flipped the switch, plunging the room into near darkness. “WHERE ARE YOU?!” Taz’s voice boomed, thick with confusion and rage.

“GIRLS, CLOSE YOUR EYES!” Silla commanded sharply. Taz was too stupid to realize what was happening, and that would be his downfall. As the girls quickly obeyed, Silla found the second switch, and with a flick, every light in the basement blazed to life, flooding the room with a harsh, blinding brightness.

Taz stumbled, his hands flying up to shield his eyes from the sudden onslaught of light. He cursed loudly, his vision swimming as he tried to adjust. But it was too late—Silla was already on him. She moved like a shadow, twisting behind him and grabbing his arm with practiced precision. Before he could react, she twisted it sharply, and Taz roared in pain.

“YOU BITCH!!! RELEASE ME!” he bellowed, thrashing in her grip, but Silla was relentless. With a determined glare, she yanked the brass knuckles from his hand. “It’s time to face your own medicine,” she hissed, slipping the knuckles onto her own fingers.

Without hesitation, she drove her fist straight into Taz’s groin, the brass knuckles adding a deadly force to the blow. The impact was brutal, the sound of it echoing off the walls as Taz’s face contorted in agony. He doubled over, his breath leaving him in a strangled gasp, his strength momentarily drained by the searing pain.

“RUN!” Silla shouted to Bianca and Dinah, her voice cutting through the chaos. The girls didn’t hesitate—they bolted up the stairs, their footsteps a frantic rhythm as they fled.

But Silla knew it wasn’t over. Taz was hurt, but he wasn’t down for good. There were still many stairs left, and despite the blow, Taz wasn’t weak. He was still a threat, one they couldn’t afford to underestimate.

Silla had to admit Taz wasn't a weakling. A hard hit with brass knuckles in the balls would send almost every man into unconsciousness, but Taz still struggled... "Anyway- one more hit into the mushy remainders of his eggs, and he's done for", Silla thought. "After all he's just a man!" But she underestimated Dinah's father. He was crawling towards something on the floor, something that Silla only recognized when it was too late - the remote control for Bianca's collar! "Shit", Silla cried, but Taz had the control already in his hands, and pointed it at Bianca. "Freeze! All of you! Or I will press the button... This will kill her immediately!" It was obvious that Taz was in extraordinary pain, but his will to not disappoint Gabriel held his spirit up. "Just a few seconds... then the others will come", Taz hoped. "Where is this idiot Benson?!"

His sight was blurred, and some sweat dripped from his forehead. He was so much focused on Silla and Bianca that he overlooked the third opponent in the room. In just a split second, a hand reached down, and snatched the remote out of his hands. "I'll better take that!", a very young girl's voice said, that seemed strangely familiar to Taz. "That's not something stupid men should play with!" Taz's eyes bulged out, his jaw dropped. Overwhelmed by the pain in his balls and the disappointment of his failure, he just groaned "Nooooo..."

Outside the mansion, the night was eerily still, the silence only broken by the faint rustling of leaves in the cool breeze. The moonlight bathed everything in a silver glow, casting long, eerie shadows across the grounds. Lucas Bergvall, his golden blonde hair gleaming under the moon’s light, was on patrol, trying to make the best of his internship with the Watchdogs. He had always been driven, eager to prove himself in a world where strength and status meant everything.

But tonight, something felt off. His instincts were sharper than usual, every noise, every shadow making him more alert. As he walked along the perimeter, a faint sound reached his ears—a desperate, muffled cry coming from the bushes nearby. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. "HELP! HELP!" the voice called out, weak but unmistakable.

“Felix?” Lucas whispered, his heart pounding as he moved closer, parting the thick foliage. His eyes widened in shock as he found Felix crumpled on the ground, his face contorted in pain. “What the hell happened to you?” Lucas asked, his voice tinged with disbelief as he knelt beside him.

Felix’s voice was strained, every word a struggle. “Call the patrols… Women… Women attacked the mansion…” His voice faltered, the pain making it hard to speak.

“Shit!” Lucas cursed under his breath, realizing the gravity of the situation. His mind raced as he grabbed his communicator, his hands shaking slightly as he fumbled with the device. "Patrol, this is Lucas Bergvall. The leader’s mansion is under attack. I repeat, women have breached the mansion. Call the admirals, and tell everyone—this is not a drill."

Meanwhile, inside Paul Koller’s house, Chase Routledge was deep in conversation with Dr. Paul Koller and Damian. They were discussing the recent incidents, trying to piece together what was happening on the island. But the moment Chase received the call, his blood ran cold. Lucas’s voice crackled through the communicator, the urgency in his tone impossible to ignore.

“Call all three admirals. I’m heading there now,” Chase barked, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the pressure.

Dr. Koller’s face darkened. “If Gabriel finds out women are attacking the mansion, there’s no more hiding the truth,” he muttered. The weight of the situation was pressing down on all of them, and they knew the consequences would be severe.

Damian’s eyes widened in shock, his mind racing. "Lucas will protect Gabriel… Damn it, what if Gabriel starts treating him better?" The thought of being overshadowed by Lucas, the prospect of losing his favor with Gabriel, gnawed at him. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Dad, Mr. Routledge, I’m coming with you,” Damian declared, his voice resolute. There was no way he was going to sit this one out.

Back inside the mansion, Madelyn’s heart pounded as she heard the roar of engines approaching. The sound of vehicles rumbling closer filled her with dread. "Shit!" she hissed under her breath, realizing time was running out. She spun on her heels and bolted towards the right wing, her feet barely touching the ground as she raced to warn the others. The whole mansion was coming alive with activity, the Watchdogs mobilizing, their footsteps echoing through the corridors like the drumbeats of war.

Meanwhile, Lucas had reached the grand staircase that led to Gabriel’s private quarters. The weight of the situation was heavy on his shoulders, but he pushed the fear aside, steeling himself for what he was about to do. He reached the top and burst into Gabriel’s room without hesitation, his eyes locking onto the leader who was lounging with two women.

Gabriel’s expression twisted into a snarl of anger and disbelief. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE, YOU LOWLY WATCHDOG INTERN?” he roared, his voice dripping with contempt.

But Lucas kept his cool, his face a mask of determination. He gripped his trainee mace, the cold metal comforting in his hand. “Sir, the mansion has been compromised,” he stated firmly. “Women have attacked. Benson is down. The troops and all three admirals are on their way here. I’m here to protect you. My name is Lucas Bergvall, from Gavin Rock Prep School. You may remember me as Damian’s friend. Don’t worry, sir, I’ve got this under control.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information, his mind racing. “SHIT! WHERE’S CHASE?” he barked, frustration and fear battling for dominance in his voice.

Just as the tension reached a boiling point, Madelyn finally burst into the right wing, her voice strained with urgency. “HURRY UP!” she shouted, her eyes wide with panic as she skidded to a stop in front of Silla and Dinah. Seeing Bianca, Madelyn quickly helped her to stand. “I’ll go first with Bianca. Finish him!” said Dinah. Bianca smiled and took one last look to Taz “It’s your end but my problem isn’t with you..” Bianca smiled as she reached her freedom. But well, the fight hasn’t finished.

Dinah’s eyes locked onto her father’s face, the face that had haunted her nightmares for as long as she could remember. This was the man who had crushed her spirit, who had dismissed her dreams simply because she was a girl. Every time he raised his hand against her, every cruel word he had spoken, it all came rushing back in a tidal wave of anger and pain. He had never been a father to her—he had been her tormentor, raising her only to use her as a pawn in his twisted game of power and status.

“Finish him,” Dinah’s voice trembled with emotion, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. “Make sure he never hurts anyone again. Gabriel won’t miss a man with only one nut, Tazzy.”

Silla’s eyes hardened as she stepped forward, her grip tightening on the brass knuckles. She had no sympathy for Taz, no hesitation as she moved in for the final blow. “Bye-bye, Taz,” she whispered coldly, before driving her fist directly into his left ball with all the force she could muster.

The damage was instant, the sickening crunch of bone and flesh sending a shiver down Dinah’s spine. Taz’s eyes bulged in agony, his mouth opening in a silent scream as he crumpled to the ground, clutching his ruined manhood. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” His left nut burst into mush.

At the same time, Froy and Rudy ran side by side through the dimly lit corridor.  From afar, they saw two figures run into a branching to the left, one of them in a strange costume, and one of them limply and staggering. "They're kidnapping the prisoner!", Rudy shouted. The next moment, they heard fighting sounds from another corridor on the right, leading to the prison. "You follow the prisoner!", Rudy decided. "I will see what's going on near the prison!" Froy just nodded, and sprinted after the prisoner and her kidnapper (or rather liberator?). He was in his wolf mode, with adrenaline rushing through his veins, making him a perfect hunter. Rudy, on the other hand, was worried. An attack on the mansion was a sacrilege, and it had never happened before. It was unimaginable, and now it happened, apparently... Running around the corner, Rudy witnessed a horrifying scene he would never forget in his life: Taz, lying on the ground with spread legs, and two costumed invaders towering over him. One of them said "Finish him!" and something else Rudy didn't understand, and then the other attacker slammed her fist in Taz's groin, producing a sickening, cracking or crunching sound. Taz's scream was deafening, and Rudy wasn't able to decide whether he should cover his ears or his own balls. Taz seemed to pass out, and both invaders turned to him. Rudy froze, and gulped. But he knew what his duty was. "You are ... under arrest!", he stammered, trying hard to make his voice sound firm and determined. His fingers clenched around his batter, while the two costumed figures slowly rose. "Fuck... why don't they give us all guns here", Rudy thought. But he was confident that (even in his state of shock) he could defeat the two rather small and fragile opponents.

Silla’s heart pounded in her chest as she caught sight of Rudy, the imposing Admiral of the Watchdogs. His mere presence meant that reinforcements had arrived, and the odds were quickly turning against them. She sighed inwardly, knowing the stakes had just been raised. But Silla was never one to back down. With a steely glare, she stepped forward, the voice changer masking her identity. “Move, or you’ll end up like Tazzy!” she warned, her voice cold and unyielding.

Rudy, oblivious to who he was facing, squared his shoulders, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He had no intention of backing down. Silla, undeterred, advanced toward him, her eyes locked onto his. “Don’t be like that, blondie,” she taunted, her tone dripping with disdain.

As she neared, Silla’s eyes flicked to a metal stick leaning against the wall—one that looked eerily similar to the one the Watchdogs had used to beat Bianca. She snatched it up, the cold metal reassuring in her grip. Meanwhile, Dinah, still reeling from the sight of her father’s downfall, stood frozen for a moment. But Silla’s sharp voice cut through her daze. “Go!” she commanded.

Dinah snapped out of it, nodding quickly. Without a second thought, she turned and bolted, her mind racing. Instead of taking the risky path through the narrow hallways where she could easily be cornered, Dinah made a split-second decision. She sprinted toward a window, climbing through it with the agility of someone fueled by pure adrenaline. The cool night air hit her face as she dropped to the ground outside, deciding it was safer to navigate the open outdoors.

Back inside, Silla face Rudy. They stood just feet apart, each gripping their weapons tightly. With a sudden, fierce energy, Silla and Rudy lunged at each other, their metal sticks clashing in midair with a resounding clang. The sound echoed through the corridor like a thunderclap. Silla moved with precision and speed, her every swing calculated. Rudy matched her blow for blow, their battle almost reminiscent of a duel in a Star Wars movie, each strike powerful enough to knock the other off balance.

“You’re strong,” Rudy grunted.

Silla smirked, taking a step back as a dangerous idea formed in her mind. She knew Rudy’s type—he was a loverboy, easily distracted by a pretty face. And right now, Silla needed any advantage she could get. In a swift, calculated move, she turned slightly, giving Rudy a brief, teasing glimpse of her curves. It was a risky gamble, but one that paid off immediately. Rudy’s focus wavered, his eyes flicking to her body for just a split second, and that was all Silla needed. “Fuck that one nice ass”

Seizing the moment, Silla swung her stick with all her might, aiming directly for Rudy’s groin. The blow landed with devastating accuracy. “ARRRRRRRRRRGH!” Rudy’s agonized scream filled the hallway as he dropped to his knees, his face contorted in sheer pain. He clutched his throbbing groin, his strength and bravado drained in an instant.

Silla stood over him, her breathing heavy, a mix of triumph and something else—something she couldn’t quite place—flickering in her eyes. “We’ll meet again,” she said coolly, her voice laced with a promise. There was something about Rudy that intrigued her, not in a romantic sense—she loved Alif far too much for that—but perhaps in a way that made her want to see him utterly destroyed. It wasn’t love; it was the thrill of conquest, Rudy is her prey. He’s the one.

With Rudy incapacitated, Silla didn’t waste any time. She sprinted down the corridor, dispatching a few young Watchdogs who dared to stand in her way. Each of them fell easily, crumpling to the ground with one swift kick to the stupid organs called balls, their cries echoing in the darkened halls. But Silla could feel her stamina waning, her muscles burning with exhaustion. She was running on pure adrenaline now.

Finally, she reached the exit, bursting through the door and out into the night. The cold air was a shock to her system, but she pushed forward, her eyes locking onto the jeep where Bianca and Madelyn were already inside, the engine idling. Dinah was just climbing in, but before Silla could join them, a figure loomed in her path—Froy, one of the most feared Watchdogs on the island.

“Shit!” Silla muttered under her breath, her eyes darting around for an escape route. Froy’s massive frame blocked her path, and she knew she couldn’t afford another full-fledged fight. But Silla was nothing if not resourceful. She smirked, a plan already forming in her mind.

Froy gripped his mace tightly, swinging it menacingly. “You can’t run, bitch!” he snarled, his voice dripping with malice.

Silla didn’t respond. Instead, she slipped between Froy’s legs in one fluid motion, her smaller frame allowing her to dodge his swing. Before Froy could react, Silla delivered a brutal uppercut directly to his balls. The force of the punch lifted Froy slightly off the ground, his eyes bulging in shock and pain as he collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

“Gahhh!” he groaned, clutching his groin, his face a mask of agony.

Silla didn’t stick around to see the aftermath. She bolted for the jeep, her legs burning as she pushed herself to her limits. She could hear the approaching footsteps, the shouts of the Watchdogs closing in. The car door swung open, and she leaped inside just as the triumvirate, Cole, Damian, and a swarm of other men—poured into the courtyard, weapons drawn.

Just before the jeep sped off into the night, Silla reached into the seat and pulled out a small rock wrapped in a piece of paper. With a smirk, she tossed it out of the window, the rock bouncing off the ground before landing at Froy’s feet.

Froy, still writhing in pain, glanced down at the object, confusion etched on his face. He picked up the rock, peeling away the paper to reveal a simple but bold message scrawled across it: BDSM Sisters Watched You.

He crumpled the paper in his fist, fury and humiliation boiling inside him, but the jeep was already gone, disappearing into the night like a shadow.

Silla looked out the back window, watching as the mansion and its towering walls grew smaller and smaller in the distance. They had done it. Against all odds, they had pulled off the impossible. Saving Bianca. Now there are four of them. Ready to defeat those men. Bianca was leaning into Silla. Madelyn drive. “That’s one hell of a night” said Madelyn. Bianca and Silla looked at each other. They smiled but they knew, when tomorrow come, the need to fight again

“We’re BDSM sisters. Bianca, Dinah, Silla, and Madelyn. We’ll bring nightmare to those boys”

Later that night, Gabriel stood before the assembly of Watchdogs. Some of them, among them Taz, Rudy and Benson, had been brought to Hodenberg's clinic. The confused doctor didn't know what to make of this sudden surge of serious testicle injuries. "It's an urologist's nightmare", he sighed, examining his patients.

Meanwhile, at the mansion, Gabriel let out all his anger.

"Rock witches? BDSM girls? Batgirl costumes? ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!" Only very few of the Watchdogs dared to look straight at their leader, most of them looked down, and some of them cupped their hurting balls from time to time. "BULLSHIT!", Gabriel screamed. "It's a rebellion! And you failed to recognize it!" He looked at the assembled Watchdogs, and then turned to Dr. Koller and Chase Routledge. "And why am I hearing about this ... movement... for the first time?" Both of his advisors looked uncomfortable. "We thought it would be better if we first don't distract you, and try to..."

"Ha! I was sure you knew something!", Gabriel shouted furiously. "This will have consequences! Consequences for all of you! But first... Find my fiancee! Now! Immediately! Block the harbor! Block all main streets! Search every house, every building on this island if necessary! Bring me back my property! Bring me back my future wife! Don't ever dare to disappoint me again! Or my wolves will tear the flesh off your bones!" The assembly was stunned, no one dared to say something, or even breathe. Gabriel looked at them with gleaming eyes.

"What are you waiting for?! GO !!!"