If You Love Me Page 14

  Afterwards he made her lick the tip clean.

  “May I clean myself?” she asked as he zipped up.

  “Not yet.” He made her stay like that, until it began to dry on her skin. Shamed and humiliated, she waited permission to remove his golden offering.

  “What have you learned?”

  “That if I disobey you, I will pay the price.”

  “Trust me,” he said gravely. “I know other tricks as well.”

  “Yes, Giovanni.”

  She wished he would show them. But she dared not ask. After her shower, she dressed, in the clothes of the brunette. Giovanni brought her to Sergei personally.

  “I trust she was adequate?” asked Sergei. “If not, we’ll take it from her hide.”

  “That won’t be necessary. You may keep the deposit from last night,” Giovanni informed him. “I will come for her a week from today. In the meantime, I want no other man to touch her. Or woman. She is to remain pure and undisturbed. Do you require a further retainer?”

  “From you, Sir? Please, your credit is good with me, so good, I shall surely extend it the rest of your days.”

  “It’s not me, but my employer.”

  “Of course.” Sergei seemed surprised. Catia had been too, at first. Now it all made sense. Giovanni as the front man, the enforcer. And Angelo as the soft, sadistic, big man, who only came out under cover of night.

  After Giovanni left, Sergei treated Catia like a queen. The incensed Nadia was forced to wait on her hand and foot. For most of the next two days, Catia slept. When she awoke again she was hungry enough to eat for three grown men.

  The other girls asked her about her experiences, but she did not say a word. She had no clue why she had been chosen over anyone else. After all, there were much better clubs in town. It was her fate and she did not wish to interfere.

  Somehow, in her heart of hearts, she believed that Angelo Mastrantonio was the key to her freedom, the key to helping her get back to Ulexi.

  ***

  The following week, on precisely the same day, Catia was returned to Signor Mastrantonio. Once again, she was called upon to play Mia. One of the things she had done in preparation was to imagine herself in the role more fully. If she could act the part completely, convincing the man of its reality, then perhaps he would reward her in some way.

  There was also the possibility he might punish her all the worse.

  She came into the dark room singing this time. When he called out hello, she gasped. “Angelo...I didn’t know...”

  He began his cagey questions, as before. This time she broke down in tears. When he showed her the instruments of punishment, she proclaimed he was setting her free, allowing her to pay for her sins.

  She faked an orgasm over his knee as he beat her.

  She moaned and tried to come to him when she was gagged and chained at the belly. He hissed at her, beating her back with the cane.

  “No, no, no!” He kicked her out of his way and stormed out of the room.

  Catia burst into tears. I’ve ruined everything, she thought.

  Giovanni came to get her. He put her in the bed and told her to hush. The next morning she begged Giovanni’s forgiveness. “I don’t know what came over me. Please, tell him I’m sorry...I am so sorry to you, too.”

  “Sorry for what? He was entirely satisfied. In fact, he wants you again tonight.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “I wouldn’t make up such a thing.”

  Catia returned home, floating on air. All day she tried to guess what the man would do to her this evening. Would they play the same game, or had he achieved some breakthrough?

  When she reported for duty at Signor Mastrantonio’s hotel, she found him out on the balcony. Giovanni blindfolded her and led her out. She was wearing a lovely red silk dress.

  “Sit beside me,” Angelo urged. “Tell me, what is your name?”

  “Mia,” she replied.

  “Mia. That is a pretty name.”

  Catia’s heart leapt with excitement. He was taking the relationship, back to the beginning. She had broken through last night. Crossed some barrier. Giovanni had tipped her off that this was the first time he had ever varied the scenario, setting up a dinner date, and now she knew why.

  He was meeting Mia all over again.

  Could she somehow prevent the terrible course of lies and deception that had obviously broken them apart?

  She would have to try.

  “Thank you. I hope you like me...and my name.”

  “I think I will. Would you like a taste of wine?”

  “Please.” She felt the glass at her lips. She took a sip.

  “You are quite beautiful,” he dabbed her lips.

  “You flatter me.”

  “I speak what is true. Grape?” He set it in her mouth. She chewed it slow and sensuously.

  “It’s so juicy.”

  “Yes, it is.” He fed her another. She opened her mouth, round and delicate.

  She took her entire meal this way, all the way to her coffee and tiramisu.

  “Angelo, you spoil me,” she said dreamily.

  “You spoil me,” he countered.

  She leaned against him. “You know what I would like?”

  “What?”

  She whispered it in his ear.

  “Little vixen,” he chuckled.

  “Pretty please,” she rasped.

  Angelo stood up and then helped her down off the chair onto her knees. He put a pillow there to protect her knees.

  “Oh, Angelo.” She gobbled his cock down, begging with the motions of her mouth for him to gift her with come. She pulsated around him, luxuriating in the sensation.

  His legs shook. He pressed down on her shoulders. He made a gurgling noise and filled her mouth with semen. She gulped it as fast as he could produce it.

  “That was the best I ever tasted,” she kissed the tip of his dick, getting that last salty drop.

  She lapped at his balls and then bent to kiss his feet.

  “Mia...” He put his hand on her head. “I...I love you.”

  Whoa...things were moving fast. “I love you, too,” she exclaimed.

  Angelo collapsed back down in the seat. She heard a match being struck. She smelled the smoke. “You need to go,” he dismissed her.

  “But Angelo...”

  “Go!”

  Catia tripped over one of the chairs on the way out. She heard dishes breaking on the tiles under the table.

  It was Giovanni who caught up to her, running down the hall with no particular goal in mind. She hadn’t even thought to take off the blind fold.

  “Giovanni,” she fell into his arms. This time she was sure she had ruined things.

  Again, however, he surprised her. “You must return. You will sleep in the bed. Signor Mastrantonio is going to stay with you.”

  “Is he going to...”

  “No, he won’t touch you. He will watch you. That is all.”

  Catia was given a nightgown. Again she was blindfolded. Am I ever to see him? She wondered.

  She rested surprisingly well. She had thought it would be creepy, knowing the man was in the chair, smoking his cigar, but she had become used to Angelo, with his odd ways.

  When morning came and Giovanni awoke her to take her back to Sergei’s house, she was almost sorry to go.

  The next night when she was brought back to Angelo’s room, Giovanni put her directly to bed. She wore a short night gown of lace, no panties. Giovanni told her to lie on her side and pretend to be asleep.

  Again she was blindfolded.

  After what felt like an eternity in the pitch black, she felt the weight of the bed displace. The springs heaved. It was Angelo, in bed with her. She held her breath. His hands touched her shoulder, naked save for the spaghetti straps.

  Her body was loose, ready. Her sex was wet.

  “Mia.” He breathed in her ear. “I love you.”

  “I love you, Angelo.”

  “
I’m going inside you.”

  “Yes, Angelo. Take me.”

  He put her on her stomach, turning her face to the right. He collapsed on top of her, shoving his cock into her pussy from on top. She could barely breathe. She gasped and choked. He turned her over and fell on top of her again.

  She couldn’t handle this either. How big was he exactly?

  Angelo cursed. He rolled onto his back. “You, get on top.”

  She fumbled, trying to mount him. She pressed her hand into his Buddha belly and it disappeared nearly up to the elbow.

  “Don’t play coy, Mia.” He lifted her up by brute strength and put her on his cock, pushing open the lips of her pussy with his waiting manhood.

  She dug her nails into his chest, hairy and mammoth. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

  He pumped up at her from underneath. She clenched her pussy muscles in reply. Anything to bring himself, and herself off faster.

  He held onto her hips, positioning her just as he wanted. He cried out like a wild man. His semen filled her, deep and satisfying. Afterward he lay beside her, clutching her waist. Dimly, as she lost consciousness, she wondered if she would actually see his face in the morning.

  As usual, though, she awoke without him.

  Opening her eyes, she saw Giovanni.

  “Good morning,” she smiled, stretching lazily. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “Someone,” he grumbled, “is beginning to forget they are a sex slave.”

  “I know that full well,” she pouted. “But all that slaving makes a girl hungry.”

  “I’ll give you something to be hungry about.”

  “Promises, promises.” Bantering like this with a man was a new sensation. Not an unpleasant one. “Giovanni, may I ask you a question?” she purred.

  He arched a brow. “I will regret it, I’m sure.”

  “Are you really an intelligence agent?”

  He smiled slyly. “Are you really Mia?”

  “I might as well be,” she decided.

  “There you have it. Signor Mastrantonio has a way of making us all into whomever he wants us to be.”

  “And if he wants me as his wife?”

  “That,” he shook his head, “will never happen.”

  “Is it because Mia broke his heart?”

  “There never was a Mia,” he shocked her. “His real wife is Greta. She is German. All the money to fund this operation comes from her.”

  “She doesn’t mind?”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  “But where did Mia come from?”

  “His imagination. You brought her to life, so you get to live her part. Better hope you can handle it.”

  “I can,” said Catia. “I am going to be her, a fabulous bride of a very rich man.”

  “You might. And you might not.”

  “If you help me, I could make it worth your while.” She extended a toe, in the area of his crotch.

  “Careful girl; isn’t that what lands Mia in the dog house? Or should I say dog cage?”

  “Not in my version.”

  ***

  Catia was with Angelo every night for the next week. He made love to her each night without fail. She was never without her blindfold and in addition, he kept her tethered by the ankle to the bed. This seemed to arouse him, seeing her so bound. Some nights he was able to ejaculate two or three times.

  Catia was feeling so at peace, she felt as if she really was becoming Mia. She had to catch herself with Sergei and Nadia, not answering to the name Catyisha, or even Catia.

  Sergei told her she was damned lucky her sponsor had given strict orders for her not to be touched. “You’re hardly a slave at all,” he complained. “You’re getting bad for business. I’d give you a good peppering; trust me, just for setting a poor example.”

  Nadia pleaded with Sergei to do just that.

  And he was sorely tempted.

  Then one day the offer came. What everyone had been waiting for. Giovanni spoke with Sergei in hushed tones for nearly half an hour. Some kind of bargain was struck.

  “This is it,” said Sergei, without preamble. “Goodbye for good.”

  Catia could hardly believe it. The moment she had dreamt of for so long. Nadia ran and hid. She never even saw her. Sergei wiped a tear from his eye. “Go,” he said, not wanting her to see him like this.

  Giovanni did not bring her back to the hotel as she’d expected. Instead he drove her outside the city. “You know what I want,” he told her, stopping beside a deserted farm.

  “No, I don’t,” she toyed.

  He grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled in for a kiss, searing, utterly controlling. “No more games, Catia.”

  She trembled all over. “But...I am Angelo’s.”

  “You will be, completely his, in a little while. For the moment, you’re in between owners.”

  Catia’s breathing quickened. “I’m yours...for the moment.”

  “A moment’s slavery to the right man is an eternity,” he said. “Remember that.”

  “Yes.” She thought of Ulexi.

  “Unzip my pants.”

  Catia obeyed.

  “Stroke me.”

  She rubbed her hands, worshipfully, up and down.

  “You’ll submit to me,” he said. “In the ass.”

  “Yes, Giovanni.”

  “Open your legs.”

  Catia wore a skirt, no panties. She was wet. “Do I please you?”

  “I’d have beaten you if you were dry.”

  She leaned back against the head rest. “I need to come, Giovanni.”

  He took away his hand. “Permission denied.”

  His fingers went to her lips; she sucked them like a little bitch.

  “Easy,” he warned her. “You make me come too soon and we’ll have to wait for another erection.”

  “I wouldn’t mind.” It was in that instant Catia realized as important to her plan as Angelo was, Giovanni was just as important. She might well need him one day, to help her escape. He might even be able to locate Ulexi for her.

  “You’re a little demoness, you know that? Angelo hasn’t a clue, but I do.”

  “I’m just a girl, who needs to surrender to strong men.”

  “You’re a witch who needs to be burned.” He reclined her seat and forced her back. “On your stomach,” he ordered.

  She complied, allowing him to whip up her skirt.

  He had to push her into position, so he could fit his cock into her opening. He used the moisture from her pussy, the juice of her own submission. She grunted as he pushed his dick into the narrow hole, leaving her cunt burning and empty. “Fucking god,” she clenched her fists. “Oh...fuck.”

  He was on her, a primal beast, taking her, making her, using and undoing her. The ass fucking to end all ass fuckings. He rammed her body down into the leather seat of Angelo’s fancy British car. She swore he would grind her down into the suspension.

  When it was time for him to come he grunted, pulling himself out. She felt hot spray on her ass.

  He rolled off her. “Hold still.” Catching his breath, he took a towel from the glove box and wiped away the come.

  He tossed it out the window and told her to turn back over. Within a few minutes they were heading back into the city, towards the hotel.

  Chapter Ten

  After a final day at the hotel, Angelo brought Catia to her new apartment. Five rooms, all to herself, except for the times when he would come to use her. This was more room, more luxury than her poor mother had ever dreamed of.

  She wanted to ask Angelo if she could write to her mother in Pristanya or even to bring her there to live. But she was afraid. She was supposed to be Mia and Mia, as far as she knew had no family.

  Giovanni came to her on occasion. They had quick, harsh sex, always anal. He was not satisfied unless he left her exhausted, broken on the floor. If he was feeling particularly harsh or if he’d been drinking, he would tear off her clothes first before invading her backside.
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  What he did not do, either before or after plowing her, was to spank or whip her. This was Angelo’s right alone. So was fucking her, of course, but the sex they could hide. Catia begged him not to do it anymore for fear of being caught, but the choice was his not hers.

  He would make her masturbate as he fucked her, forcing her to scream and moan in pleasure. “Bastard,” she would hiss, but she loved it and they both knew it.

  The next time she would fight again, but she would love it all the more.

  Angelo’s visits were more subdued. Many times he would come just to eat with her or watch her sleep. They had a code system. Three long raps and one short. That was her signal, whatever she was doing, to put on her blind fold.

  Once she asked Giovanni if he had seen Angelo and if he would describe him to her.

  Giovanni punished her, biting hard on both her nipples, making her denounce herself as a nosy, slut.

  Angelo enjoyed marrying her. They did this once a week. A fake ceremony in which she would wear white lingerie, a veil and a garter. She would walk arm in arm with him and they would stand before an imaginary preacher. She would get on her knees and take him in her mouth while he recited vows, his and hers.

  Her vows were to suffer, submit, and endure, his were to dominate, demonize and enjoy. He was, if nothing else, a man easily entertained.

  At a certain point, some months into her new life, Catia got her brainstorm. It was so simple she should have thought of it earlier. Then again, timing is everything.

  She knew that neither Giovanni nor Angelo would agree to let her travel to Pristanya to find her old boyfriend. But Giovanni at least might be persuaded to let her journey to see her long lost mother.

  She began to work on him. Little looks on her face, sighs. As tough a man as Giovanni was, he couldn’t help but notice the emotions.

  For the first several days, she said it was nothing. A nice careful build up, that’s what she was aiming for. Then she told him she was missing her mother, but it was nothing. Besides, Angelo would never allow it, so what could Giovanni do? Two days later, Giovanni was asking her where her mother was, in what city and so on.

  She let him be the strong one, the one with the ideas. And she let him think it was part of his dominion over her, as over and against Angelo’s.

  “What would you say to a trip to Pristanya?”