By Pickle
~ Chapter 11 ~
Once secured tightly in the front seat of the SUV again, I was only half-listening to Hernandez and Gunnerson discussing how screwed I was going to be today, and that it was going to be chest day at the gym, and that Hernandez was going to put me through that. The half of my brain that wasn’t listening to their constant banter was wondering exactly what shit they were going to do to me. I was beginning to think of it as “extreme hazing” and I had to admit to myself a small dark and twisted part of me was liking the masculinity, toughness and brotherhood of what these macho behemoths were putting me through. Even in as much pain as I am, I realized I was starting to look forward to them roughing me up, and having their sadistic fun with me. I guess I was even beginning to realize these guys maybe even liked me a little … maybe they just enjoy knocking the crap outta me though, who knows? Oh well, whatever, it’s now obvious to me that I don’t have a choice, and that this seems like it’s going to be my life for a long time. It’s like being in a bondage prison but so far I get to go home at night.
I’m knocked out of my reverie when the truck rolls to a stop outside the barn and Gunnerson says, “Hey Pick! Just got a text from “The Boss”. He says to take it a little easy on ya today. Just scarecrow you, take you to the gym, then bring you back here and put you on the rack to get two more years out of you. We drew up the new contracts last night before we left, Dill. We’re gonna enjoy breaking you again. Hell, maybe we’ll even dislocate those shoulders for ya today, and let you suffer for a few minutes before we put ‘em back in for ya. That’s actually part of the initiation for our Tier 1 Seals. I know we’re not making a real Seal outta you, but there’s no harm in toughening you up like one, Pick!