If You Love Me Read online

  The name of the group was Ulexi’s idea. As for the age and poor caliber of his troops, he considered them to be his own kamikaze dogs, dispensable.

  “Who’s the female,” said Ulexi.

  This was another thing about Ulexi. He did not refer to women as sluts or whores, no matter what. This, too, she would learn.

  “She’s a little present,” said the cunning Mojo. “For you.”

  Catia stood frozen. Ulexi was hot, sure, but she was not about to leap into his arms.

  “Go to him, bitch.” Mojo shoved her—an apparent specialty of his.

  “Fuck you,” said Catia, drawing strength from Ulexi’s presence. “You don’t own me. Any of you.”

  “Sorry, boss,” apologized Mojo. “She needs taming. Mojo took out a pair of brass knuckles.

  “Come here, Mojo,” said Ulexi seeing what he was about to do.

  Mojo went to him, sweat on his forehead. “What’s up, dog?” He put out his hand, imitating the style of American rappers.

  Ulexi grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground.

  Mojo dropped the knuckles. “Hey...boss...what gives?”

  Ulexi eyed him, a stare of death if ever she’d seen one. “You think too much, Mojo. And you talk too much. And you breathe too much.”

  “S—sorry, boss.”

  “Consider yourself on probation.”

  “Y-yes, boss.” A yellow stream ran down his leg.

  “Go apologize to the female,” said Ulexi.

  Ulexi put him down.

  “Sorry,” mumbled Mojo.

  Catia pulled down her shirt and spit on his face.

  “Leave it,” said Ulexi. “Craxi,” he said to one of the others. “You’re my new lieutenant.”

  “Yes, Boss,” said Craxi, his hair spiked and black as midnight.

  “I’ll see all of you in the morning.”

  “What about me?” said Catia.

  “What about you?”

  Catia swallowed. “Where...where do I go?”

  “Home,” said Ulexi.

  She watched him walk up the street, her heart pounding. “Hey, wait.”

  She ran after him. “Can I walk with you a little?”

  “Suit yourself.”

  He didn’t say anything and she didn’t either. A few blocks up he stopped in front of a dingy green door, dented metal. Neon lights overhead announced it was a pub. “You old enough to drink?”

  “I’m eighteen,” she said proudly.

  Fifteen minutes later she was telling him her life story, chattering away over the mug of cider he’d ordered for her.

  “This stuff tastes sweet,” she said. “Are you sure it’s alcohol?”

  “It’s English,” he said, his hip just touching hers as they stood at the slanted wooden bar.

  The place was nearly empty, smoky, just a few tables with a couple of old men reminiscing softly about the good old days under Stalin.

  “My dad was English. I never met him. Say, can I have another? I’d buy one, but I’m flat broke.”

  Ulexi signaled to the bartender. She saw the scar on the back of his hand. “Where’d that come from?”

  Ulexi turned to her. “What’s your name?”

  “Catia,” she whispered.

  He swallowed his own drink, which was a beer. “Here is the first rule, Catia. You don’t ask questions about me.”

  Her pulse raced. Did this mean he wanted to see her again?

  “I—I don’t mind rules,” she said when the fresh drinks came. “I’ll do what you tell me.”

  He was silent.

  “I never met my father,” she continued, nervous as her first day at school. “He was a businessman and—”

  “Rule number two,” said Ulexi. “You speak when spoken to.”

  Her nipples stood at attention. She wanted to give herself to this man. She wanted to belong to him. In her heart she already did.

  The enforced silence killed her, but it aroused her, too. An invisible gag. She rubbed her legs together.

  “You live around here?” he finally asked.

  “In the old State Building project,” she sighed, her words feeling like a sacred surrender. “With my mother...but...but I was away for a while, in the capital.”

  She hoped she hadn’t said too much.

  He nodded swallowing more of his drink. “You have a boyfriend?”

  “No...no, I don’t.”

  Steady...

  He nodded again, ordered more cider for her and another beer for him.

  She nearly fainted when he put his hand on her thigh, just below the hem of her skirt. She was so wet now under her panties. She needed sex bad.

  She was afraid to move a muscle, though. If he didn’t want her talking out of turn he was unlikely to be pleased by a girl...a female making advances on him.

  “You saved my life back there,” she reminded him.

  “So now you owe me, right?”

  Catia bit her lip. He had sounded sarcastic. “If...if you want.”

  Ulexi grasped her cheeks, between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her chin. “Rule number three. Ulexi does not take charity and he doesn’t trade things for sex. A female surrenders to him...wholly and completely...or he does not touch her. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Ulexi.” She was weak as a kitten. On the verge of panting. “Tell me...tell me what to do.”

  “Remove your panties. Give them to me.”

  “H—here?”

  “Did I say to go anywhere?”

  “No, Ulexi.”

  He released her, allowing her to do the deed. She pulled up her skirt, as discretely as she could manage. She kept her eyes on him, trying not to think of the old men watching, or the young couple that had just taken up a place at the other end of the bar.

  She had to bend down to work the waistband of her panties. She could smell her own heat. Her thighs were slippery against each other. Down went the panties, past her knees, past her boots, down to her ankles.

  “Step out of them. Hand them to me.”

  The old men had a view of the bottom of her buttocks as she bent at the waist. Feeling surprisingly shy, she turned them over.

  Catia swooned as he put them to his nose, inhaling.

  “Go to the men’s room,” he told her. “Bend over the sink and wait.”

  “Yes, Ulexi...” She could barely walk. She wanted to crawl for him, to show everyone there who she was and what she was about to do. This was madness. What if someone were in there? Would he make sure no one else came in? Would he take a long time?

  The bathroom was small and dingy. She smelled urine and the smoke of stale cigars.

  The sink was chipped porcelain, cold to the touch. She had to keep from rubbing her legs together as she assumed the position. Fingers gripping the porcelain, feet spread on the tile.

  Seconds ticked, dragging into years.

  At last she heard the door. Her breasts hung helpless inside the severed bra. Her nipples ached to be touched, punished. Her cunt was a yawning chasm; she would die if he didn’t take her.

  “Stalin’s mustache,” exclaimed one of the old men.

  Catia moaned. It wasn’t Ulexi. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak either. The old man gawked a bit, and then went to piss.

  “You’ll see anything now, you will,” he muttered. “Whole world’s gone to pot.”

  He made sure to gawk some more on the way out.

  Catia burned with shame. Catia burned period.

  The door opened again. It was Ulexi. “Did you stay in position?”

  “Yes...”

  He moved behind her, caressing her ass through the leather. “That was a test, you know.”

  She didn’t know, actually.

  “If you’d left when the old man came in, if you’d stood up or done anything but what I ordered you to, I would have left you here.”

  “Ulexi, I couldn’t have survived that... I mean I …”

  “You’d have done fine,” h
e lifted her skirt, bearing his target. “A girl as attractive as you.”

  “Thank you.” She’d heard it before, but it had never mattered, not like this. Never had she wanted to be attractive for anyone in particular. “But you’re wrong,” she dared. “I think I need you. Don’t ask me to explain. You’re not like anyone else.”

  “You trust too much, girl. Too soon.”

  “I could love you, Ulexi...” Had she really said that aloud? Could it really be true? Love?

  “Yes, way too much,” he groaned, pushing his erection inside her.

  Catia was ready, wet and tight and hot and ready. “C—coming,” she chattered, declaring her immediate surrender to his invasion.

  Ulexi pumped her, riding her through her climax.

  “Oh, god, oh, fucking god,” she moaned. “Use me, please, Ulexi, use me...let me die...like this.”

  “You won’t die,” said Ulexi, sounding so very much older and wiser. “You won’t be that lucky. You’ll live. You’ll pay the price.”

  “Just let it be to you,” she begged.

  His hands clamped on her waist. “No promises.”

  “I’m yours,” she panted. “Do...what you will.”

  “Rule number four,” he pronounced, even as he pounded her pussy, claiming her in the dirty room off limits to her sex. “Nothing is fair. Two standards. Yours and mine. You betray me, I kill you. You look at another man, you touch him, and you both die.”

  “Oh, Ulexi,” she reveled in his possessiveness. “I submit...I submit to your law.”

  “Last chance,” he said. “To beg off. Say the word, I’ll leave now. But make no mistake, when I come in a pussy I own it.”

  “Do it, Ulexi. Come. Mark me. Make me...whole.”

  “You’ll be at my beck and call. You’ll take pain.”

  “Fucking do it,” she screamed. “Make me your come slave.”

  Ulexi made a roaring sound, like a caged lion. It set the hair on her neck to attention and curled her toes. She felt it like a blast, opening her, forcing a fresh orgasm from her, this one like nothing else she had ever known.

  Ulexi filled her. Blast after blast, his cock swollen and hot, a deep moaning from the back of his throat. She broke out in sweat, sighing in thanks, in submission, in glorious defeat.

  She was no longer her own. She had a man, a reason, a purpose.

  She was possessed.

  Ulexi removed his cock. “Clean me up,” he ordered.

  Catia went to her knees, her heart swollen with love and pride. She licked every inch of his flagging shaft, and then dried him off with her long silky hair.

  She looked up at him for approval. “Go home,” he said.

  Her eyes watered. “You can meet me tomorrow, at the Plaza, at midnight,” he said.

  “Thank you.” She embraced his legs.

  “Ulexi?”

  “What is it?”

  She tried not to stammer. “K—kiss me?”

  He took her in his arms, claiming her lips. She could barely stand afterwards.

  “I’ll count the minutes,” she promised. “Until I see you. Every breath...for you.”

  Ulexi said nothing as he left the bathroom.

  She looked in the mirror. Smiling, dazzled. A woman.

  Let her mother try and cramp her style now.

  Chapter Four

  Julyana found her daughter impossible to deal with after that. If she spoke to her at all it was with rudeness in her voice.

  “If I had spoken like that to my mother...” Julyana resorted to saying.

  “I know, Mother, she would have fed you to the dinosaurs of Stalin.”

  “I just don’t know what is to become of you,” Julyana protested. “I won’t be alive to support you forever. You won’t work or go to school.”

  “I have more money than you,” she snorted.

  “And where does it come from?” Julyana sneered. “Nowhere legal, that’s for sure.”

  Catia just smiled; the cat that ate the canary. If Julyana only knew. She had a man who put her first in his life. She wasn’t some hour a week slut on the side, she was Ulexi’s woman and the others cowered around her and stepped back because if they looked at her they would get a knife in the gut.

  Ulexi brought her things, diamonds and jewels, expensive electronics—which Julyana refused to allow in the apartment. Soon Ulexi would get a place for the two of them, and then she’d be set.

  She’d never talk to Julyana again.

  “Catia,” her mother pleaded. “Can’t you see I’m trying? I know you judge me for the past. I failed you, but it’s different now. I don’t take men in.”

  “Just that black widow, that woman!” Catia snorted, grabbing an apple from the fridge. “Talk about disgusting. She makes those old secret police pigs look good.”

  “I have to compromise,” Julyana flushed.

  “Liar. You like it. You’re a little masochist. And a lesbian.”

  “Take that back!”

  “Why? Isn’t it true?”

  Julyana’s lip trembled. She was starting to hate Catia. What was this new world doing? Democracy—she spit on it. It was a hundred times worse. No respect from the youth. Hours twice as long, bosses who don’t even speak the language. “I’ll tell you what’s true, beloved daughter. You’ve become nothing but tesraya. A common tramp. You run the streets all night. You dress to show your body to everyone. You take money from thieves and god alone knows what you do in exchange.”

  Catia smiled in triumph. She had finally gotten to her mother, wrecked her completely. “Jealous, aren’t you, old woman? My man wouldn’t give you the time of the day. Not even his street dogs would touch worn out meat like yours.”

  Julyana screamed like she’d been stabbed. “Evil, horrible little girl,” she flew at Catia. “Wicked, mother killing brat.”

  Catia fought her off.

  “Out of my apartment,” Julyana raged. “Out and never come back. I don’t want to see you. I’ll die alone, you hear me, alone before I ever look on you again.”

  Catia left with the clothes on her back. She shouted things in reply but she didn’t remember them. In truth she was scared beyond measure and deep down a sickness was growing inside of her. She was going wrong in her life. But how—everything with Ulexi felt so good.

  She went to him, breaking his rule about not coming when she hadn’t been summoned.

  He answered the door in the nude. Behind him, on the mattress in his single room flat was a girl. A tussle haired blonde, twice her age, with big breasts and heavy lips.

  “Should I go, lover?” she drawled.

  “No,” he eyed Catia. “The girl has no problems with your being here. Do you?”

  “No, Ulexi.” Inside she was crumbling. Their agreement was clear, the two standards. She was locked to him and he was free. That’s what made him the man. It’s just she’d never actually seen him exercise that right.

  “Come in, Catia. Have a seat.”

  “Ulexi,” the blonde said. “I feel funny about this.”

  “Well start feeling unfunny,” Ulexi menaced. “Catia came here uninvited and now she’s going to watch us.”

  “I need a cigarette,” said the blonde.

  “After.” Ulexi tore away the sheet, exposing her.

  He was standing there, looming. The blonde went to his dick without a word. She took him hungrily, laying aside whatever compunctions she had.

  Ulexi was not a man to be denied.

  Catia tried not to cry. She had to be a big girl. This was how things were. It didn’t mean Ulexi didn’t love her or that he wouldn’t let her move in. He just needed his space. They could work it out.

  The blonde sucked him for a long time. Then she went onto all fours. She screamed and swore as he mounted her, her big breasts flopping, her ass jiggling. “Oh, Jesus, fucking Jesus.”

  Ulexi pulled at her long blonde hair like a set of reigns.

  “Oh, yea, give it to me,” she moaned as he smacked her ass, turni
ng her white skin red.

  Ulexi never smiled, never said a word. He didn’t care when she came and he didn’t seem to care that Catia was there. The blonde begged him to come inside her but he chose to come all over her ass instead.

  Catia watched longingly as his semen spilled out across the pillowy mounds. The blonde was still shaking, urging him on.

  “Don’t move,” Ulexi ordered, withdrawing. Then to Catia he said, “Lick it up.”

  “Yes, Ulexi.”

  Catia slipped from the chair, onto her hands and knees. She slipped her coat off. She had a halter top on underneath and a pair of tight jeans, the kind with pre made holes like they wore in the West.

  She couldn’t breathe as she moved, off to lick another woman’s ass, to clean her boyfriend’s come.

  Ulexi circled behind her. He had his belt. She felt weak all over. The blonde’s ass was big. The skin glistened. She smelled like pussy and semen both.

  She had never touched a woman, much less licked her ass.

  “You’re stalling, Catia.” The belt sailed through the air, landing with fierce intensity on her smaller behind. Even through the jeans, it hurt.

  Catia applied her tongue.

  He whipped her again. “Why the fuck did you come here?”

  She didn’t know if she was supposed to answer.

  Another blow, the hardest yet.

  “Can’t you follow orders?”

  Tears dotted her eyes. She swallowed as fast as she could, so sorry, so devastated to have disappointed him.

  “I thought you were smart, Catia.”

  Thwack. And thwack again. She forced herself to stay upright. So much ass to cover, so much semen.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t turn you over to Craxi and Mojo and the others?”

  She shook her head no, not daring to stop.

  Thwack, thwack, thwack. It was the worst beating he’d ever given her.

  “S—sorry,” she sobbed, her voice muffled in flesh.

  Thwack, thwack. “The hell you are.”

  “S—sorry,” she sputtered.

  “Ulexi,” the blonde finally said. “Jesus, that’s enough.”

  He threw the belt across the room. “Get out, Ivana, before I take the whip to you.”

  The blonde got up, dressed hurriedly. “Call me?” she said tentatively.