Western Sands #2- Painful recount

I came to slowly, like surfacing from deep water. My head pounded, my mouth tasted like copper, and below the waist… everything just hurt. A dull, throbbing ache radiated from my groin, wrapped in thick bandages that made every small shift feel like sandpaper on raw nerves. "Where am I?" I muttered to myself, vision still blurry. The room smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. As my eyes cleared, I realized I was in a hospital bed. Confusion hit hard I could barely remember what happened last night.

A dark figure caught my attention. I blinked, trying to focus. A man sat in the chair beside my bed mid-thirties, dark hair cropped short, five-o’clock shadow. He wore a casual dark dress shirt, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. He had the kind of tired-but-sharp eyes that said he’d seen worse than whatever put me here.

"Good evening, Mr. Nathan," he said. "I'm glad to see you're still alive after... what you experienced last night." His voice had a faint lilt, like an American trying to imitate a British, smooth, almost too fluid. It made me question my own accent for a second. I propped myself up on the bed and eyed him warily.
"Who are you?" I asked, voice still drowsy.
"I am Detective Ray Michaels, with the Division of Criminal Investigation, or D.O.C.I. for short," the detective said. I squinted, wondering why a cop was here instead of family or friends. I tried to sit up further, but a sharp ache shot through my balls. I groaned and slumped back down.

"Careful now," he warned. "The doctor said you mustn't move for a while. They barely managed to save your testicles. They repaired a partial rupture and drained the blood, but they could stay swollen for weeks. Which is why I'm here."
I turned my head toward him. "What does my dick have to do with the cops?" I shifted to get comfortable, but another wave of pain made me moan under my breath.
"You were attacked last night, and the manner of it lines up with some cold cases from the past." The detective leaned back, crossing his legs. He reached into his bag and pulled out a case file, then stood and handed it to me. I flipped it open. "Partial testicular rupture/fracture, urethral bruising, and muscle strain..." I read aloud. I slid to another page and saw a report on a man named David Carson.

"Deceased... suffered internal bleeding from testicular damage, urethral bruising... found in... What the hell does this have to do with my balls being in pain, detective?"
The detective scratched his neck. "I believe you were attacked by a woman named Mia Haynes. She's a middle age women, good-looking, and responsible for the deaths of four men back in the early 2010s," he said coldly. That last sentence made my blood go cold for a second. I look up at him from the case files. "The methods match yours: found bound to an object, testicles ruined whether completely castrated or ruptured beyond repair. Three of the men were found in their bedrooms while the other was a poor homeless man in the alley, covered in cum and drowning in his own blood," The detective said as he sat back down and crossed his legs.

"So... this woman came into my house last night and tried to kill me!?" I yelled, I took a moment to myself to relax. My balls started throbbing from me screaming and resisted touching them. "That's what I suspected, which I believe is the likely outcome based on the way your injuries were presented. But, I wanted to make sure it was her and not an entirely different suspect, as Mia was released on parole a year ago, and I don't want to jump into conclusions too fast." The detective said, uncrossing his legs and taking out a notepad.

“So, if it helps, can you recall any of the events that happened last night?” The detective asked. I stared at him, then up at the ceiling tiles. I didn't want to relive it, but if it locked her away and saved the next guy... fine. "My memory's foggy, so bear with me. I woke up from a nap gagged, my limbs bound to the bedposts in a very uncomfortable position if memory serves me. There was a feminine figure standing over me. I couldn't see her face clearly, but her hair was bright. Blondish, maybe? It was very hard to tell in the dark." The detective nodded. "Last time I saw Mia, she had bright red hair. Go on."

"Her foot was ice-cold. She pressed her toes right onto my ballsack. I flinched hard, my hips jerked sideways and I heard her giggled. She said, 'Let me warm it up,’ or something. Then she started rubbing her foot on my balls, slow,
hard circles. The friction burned, but..." I swallowed. My throat felt tight. "But I got hard anyway. I think I caught a flash of pure white teeth when she smiled. She switched feet, kept rubbing with the other one. Right as I was about to cum, she kicked me hard. My hips bucked under her. She kept kicking even while I was shooting, then stomped down and grinded her toes deep into my dick..."
My voice cracked. I could feel heat creeping up my neck. Under the sheet, something twitched despite the ache. I hated that it did.
Ray waited, pen hovering.

"Do you remember her scooping up your cum with her soles? She typically uses her foot to trail any spilled out cum on her victim's body. We've traced her footprints on other scenes... except for that one homeless guy they never found." I tilted my head, trying to pull the memory. Nothing. "I don't know. I was too focused on the pain exploding in my balls and trying to think of any way out. After that... I think she dropped her knee on me. Full weight. Or jumped. Everything is blurry to me at this point. All I remember from this point was the sensation of punching, or maybe kicking. The order may be wrong a bit. Then the last thing I felt was maybe the feeling of my balls being bitten or sucked on. After that, it's just fog." Detective Ray visibly winced, crossing his legs tighter. "Jesus," he muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat. "It's hard to confirm it's her from that alone, but she's definitely a suspect."

He closed the notepad, slipped it into his bag. I shifted, wincing again. "What happened after? How'd I end up here?"
Ray stood, gathering his things. "Neighbors heard banging and muffled screams, and called the police after it became ‘annoying.’ Cops kicked the door. Found you tied in an X, cum smeared across your chest and stomach, balls swollen and dark red. Your dick looked like it'd been through a meat grinder. The floor was sticky in footprints, presumably from your attacker walking around with your load on their feet. They rushed you here and Surgeons managed to repair the partial rupture and drained the hematoma. They Saved both testicles somehow. A couple hours after the surgery, they flagged me because of the pattern recognized by other detectives, and now here we are." He said as he finished packing up.

I looked back at the ceiling, sinking back down in the bed. I watched as Ray began walking towards the door, He then paused before leaving. "I will be checking in on you often until this is resolved. As of this point you'll be put up on witness protection as your valuable now. Rest well and try not to make any sudden movements, for your balls sake.” The detective said as he left. The door clicked shut. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the ache pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. Somewhere out there, she's there. Properly watching, or waiting for my return. So she'll finish what she started. I could only hope she is found before she hurts any other men….