My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 (4 page)

“
Ti voglio scopare
duramente
,” he growled –
he wanted to fuck me hard!

I screamed again, no longer caring about the job, just that
the brute didn’t touch me. He clamped a hand over my mouth, pushing
my head down hard—too hard, almost suffocating. I heard a zipper,
my mind now going ballistic as I tried to fight him, but my arms
were trapped behind my back, still tied like my legs, the rope not
allowing any movement.

He rolled me onto my front, then climbed on top of me, his
huge body crushing mine, his cock pushing between my thighs, trying
to bury itself inside of me.

“Get off her. Now!”

Alberto froze, then a second later he was off me, the release
almost making me cry out in relief. I turned my head in the
direction of the voice, wanting to know who had saved me, but
Alberto had tied the blindfold too securely, leaving me completely
blind.

“Why can’t I fuck her?” Alberto asked.

“You know why, and what would your wife say?” the unknown man
said, his accent also Italian.

“She’s too busy trying to fuck Jagger to care.”

“If you paid her attention instead of the slaves, then maybe
she wouldn’t stray.”

“She would still stray because of
that
puttano!
”

“Don’t call him that.”

“He is! All he does is steal other men’s women.”

“That’s his job.”

“Not when it’s
my
woman!”

“This is like a circle, it always comes back to the same
thing. You either ignore it or you deal to Bianca, but you are not
to touch Jagger. He is blood, your wife is not. If she can’t keep
her legs closed, then you can hardly blame Jagger. Sort her out or
I will, because I cannot have blood fighting over
pussy.”

Alberto swore in Italian, then his heavy footsteps thudded
out of the room, the door slamming a second later. Lighter
footsteps approached the bed, the mattress going down from the new
man’s weight, his cologne the same as my husband’s, making me wish
it was Matt who had saved me, that he wasn’t dead, and that this
was all a sick dream, a nightmare that I was going to wake up
from.

“Did he hurt you?” the man said softly. His
voice was husky, but not as strong as Alberto’s. He brushed back my
hair, making me flinch from his touch. “You’re a beautiful woman,
you shouldn’t be treated so harshly, but Alberto is a stupid brute,
nothing but an
animale
.” The man
slipped his arms
under me.

“
No!” I yelled out, trying
to jerk away.

“
Sssh,” he said, gripping
me tighter. “I’m
not going to hurt you; I just want to clean your scrapes so they
don’t get infected.”

I went still, the man sounding
genuine. I’d heard many liars, had listened to the different
pitches in their voices, the slight nuances that betrayed them,
which this man didn’t have, his voice calm, gentle, friendly,
despite the sexual tones underlying his breathing.

He carried me into another room, my
feet hitting the side of the door as we entered it. He laid me down
in what felt like a bathtub, the cold porcelain making my
heart-rate go up.

“
I need to take your
clothes off to wash you,” he said.

“
No!”

“
You need to be
cleaned.”

“
Then I’ll do
it.”

“
I can’t untie
you.”

“
Please, I won’t try to
escape.”

“
T
here’s no need to be scared, all I’ll be
doing is washing you, nothing else.”

“
No, please, just let me do it,”
I said, trying to keep my panic under control. No matter how much I
believed him, I still didn’t want him touching me, didn’t want any
of these people near me.

“
If you won’t cooperate,” he
said, “I will have to call back Alberto. Do you want that brute
touching you again?”

“
No!”

“
Then it’s me.” What
sounded like a switchblade opened, making me flinch. “Sssh, don’t
be frightened,” he said. “I have to cut off your dress because of
the ropes. Shame. It’s pretty. Now, stay still so I don’t hurt you
by mistake.”

I froze as the cold blade ran up my leg,
the man not as nice as he was pretending to be. He may be speaking
the truth, but he was still a mobster, which made me wonder who he
was and how he could get Alberto to back down. It couldn’t be
Frano, since he was in New York, introducing himself as the new
D’Angelo don to fellow crime families. Then who was it?

I lost my
train of thought as my dress
ripped, the material being cut away along with my bra, only air now
touching my bare flesh. I imagined the man staring at my naked
body, his heavy breathing making me more and more nervous. I wanted
to cover my breasts, but instead they stood out, my tied arms stuck
underneath me, arching my back uncomfortably.

He said a word in Italian that I was
unfamiliar with, but from the tone of his voice I knew it was a
compliment, then something rattled, followed by a burst of water
hitting me between my thighs. I cried out, the cold shocking my
senses.

“
Mi dispiaci,
” he said, “I mean,
I’m
sorry
, I
should have set the temperature.”

The water heated, warming me a
fraction, the room colder than an icebox. A bar of soap ran over my
nipples, making me gasp.

“
Don’t worry,” he said,
“just cleaning, nothing else.” He continued what he was doing,
spending too much time on my breasts, then his hand moved lower,
slipping between my thighs.

“
No!” I yelled. “Stop
it!”

“
Shhh,
è
tutto
buono
,” he said, saying it was all
good.

His thumb started rubbing my clitoris,
the intensity almost unbearable, the feeling too good, too bad, too
much! I wriggled about, trying to escape what he was doing. He
dropped the water nozzle on my thigh, then placed an arm across my
collarbone, holding me down as he continued to play with my
clitoris.

“
Le-let me go,” I panted, unable
to handle it anymore. His touch was sending unwanted pleasure
through me, mixed with fear and anger.

“
Not until you come for
me.”

“
No! Stop! Please sto—” I
cried out as his fingers squeezed my nipple.

“
So lovely,” he mumbled,
brushing his lips over my other breast, his tongue flicking out,
licking it. He pulled away. “You taste of soap.”

Before I could yell at him, curse him for
what he was doing, cold water blasted my breasts, making me cry out
again. A second later, his mouth was back on my breast, sucking
hard while his fingers and thumb rubbed me below. I didn’t know who
he was and after a while I stopped caring, because the man’s touch,
his mouth... Oh God, he was exquisite.

He shoved a finger inside of me as he
continued to suckle on my breast, my mind and my body fighting each
other, but my body winning. I arched, pushing my breast willingly
into his mouth, the need to come overriding everything. He shifted
to my other breast, sucking it harder, pulling on it, using his
teeth, his tongue, his whole blessed mouth. He added a second
finger below, continuing to finger fuck me while his thumb rubbed
my clitoris to the point of pain, the intensity again too much,
even more so combined with his mouth, everything inside of me
building, one suck, one thrust, one rub, and one... I cried out,
the orgasm blanking my mind as pleasure swamped my body. He
swallowed my cry with a kiss, his tongue penetrating my mouth,
seeking more of me as I continued to ride the orgasm.

As the pleasure quelled, my thoughts began
to filter back in. I hadn’t allowed a man to touch me since my
husband had died just over six months ago, didn’t want another man
to do to me what he’d done. But now I’d allowed a man to do just
that, to take what belonged to my husband. I wanted to cry, no, I
wanted to hurt him for making me betray Matt’s memory.

The man pulled away from me. “It was a
pleasure giving you pleasure,” he said, his tone of voice promising
that this wouldn’t be the last time.

I couldn’t believe I’d let my guard down,
allowed myself to give into him, to believe his lies that he
wouldn’t do anything. He obviously knew how to use his voice to get
his way, no doubt one of those criminals who could fool a lie
detector, which meant I couldn’t trust a word that came out of the
mouth that had sucked on my breasts.

I
wanted to scream at him, to hurt him
for touching me so intimately. He was not my husband! He didn’t
have a right!

“
You’re tensing up,” he said.
“Relax, it’s not a sin to feel good, no matter how much priests
might tell us it is.”

A towel touched my body, making me jerk
away, my anger building.

“
I’m just going to dry
you,” he said.

“
You lied to
me!”

“
Get used to it.” He
pushed me forward, drying my back like I was a small child who
couldn’t do it myself.

“
Don’t touch
me!”

A slap stung my backside, stunning me into
silence, then he lifted me up and carried me out of the
room.

“
Put me down!” I
screamed.

He dumped me back on the bed, my body now
shivering from the cold room.

“
Sorry, I cannot give you
clothes to wear,” he said, “you haven’t earned them yet.” The bed
went down with his weight. “Do you want to know how to earn
clothes?”

“
Just give me a blanket,
please
,” I said, trying to get my emotions under
control.

His hand moved to my cheek, then his mouth
was on mine once more. I went to yank my head away, but instead
froze, the words he mumbled against my lips stunning me. “You are
exactly as the American described.”

Had I been found
out?

A door banged, breaking through my
fear. “What are you doing?!” a male voice yelled, sounding like
Jagger.

The man pulled away from me. “Tasting
the produce,” he said, “but this cherry is bruised. I’ve told you
not to treat the women so cruelly. There’s no need to throw them
into the van like cattle.”

“
That’s Alberto’s doing, not
mine. And you are not to touch any of my women again.”

“
Oh, so they are women
now? I do apologize, Jagger, I just assumed they were punching bags
with the way you treat them.”

“
That’s the job you gave
me, so leave, I have work to do.”

“
I could help you by
taking charge of this one—”

“
No! She’s mine to
train.”

His fingers squeezed my nipple again,
making me gasp. “This one just came for me as I sucked on her
breasts and finger fucked her.”

The sound of footsteps approached the bed.
“Get your hands off her!” Jagger yelled.

The man squeezed my breast harder,
causing me to cry out. “She sounds so good when she comes. I’m sure
I can teach her better than you.”

“
Get.
Off. Her!”

The man removed his hand from
my breast, the bed going up as he got to his feet. “You forget,
little cousin, that I am not as forgiving as my father, so watch
what you say to me, because I may decide to send you back to the
Donatelli
.
”

“
But you know what they
will do to me,” Jagger said, his tone now scared.

“
Then don’t overstep the
boundaries. And, Jagger, I need this slave ready to be shipped out
in four weeks.”

“
That’s too soon; I need
at least six weeks to train her.”

“
She fits what the Black
Russian wants, and what he wants he gets with a cherry on
top.”

“
You can’t send a woman to
him without adequate preparation, she won’t last a day with that
freak.”

“
That’s not my concern,
it’s yours. And by the way, I am very pleased you finally brought
me a brunette. When I heard, I had to come see with my own eyes,
and I must say: she is quite stunning. I want more like her. Our
clients have diverse tastes, which need to be catered for with more
than just blondes.”

“
Mario brings in the other
kinds of women, not me.”

“
This is a job, Jagger,
not a reflection on who you want to fuck. You check the orders and
bring me what is needed. Now, although I do enjoy our little
conversations I have real work to do. Unlike you, I can’t wile my
time away on pleasure.”

“
It’s work!”

“
If you say
so.”

“
Fanculo,
Frano
!” Jagger swore.

The man laughed, then a door closed,
my heart now frozen in shock at the name that Jagger had
yelled.

Frano.