Authors: Louise Cayne
Tags: #erotica, #death, #mafia, #prostitution, #gangster, #violent, #force, #extreme, #gang bang sex, #depraved sex
“Oh fuck… I’m… going… to…” Mark moaned, in between staggered
breaths.
“Not yet,” Stacey replied, swiftly rising to her feet and once
again climbing onto Mark’s considerable frame. His erect cock
twitching as Stacey held it between her fingers, pulling her
panties to one side and lowering herself onto him with a quiet
moan.
“Now; do it now,” she begged, slowly bouncing, her moans
growing sharper and louder as she pulled Mark’s face to hers and
pressed her lips against his. She loved the feeling of his stubble
as it dug into her palms, and his smell; so masculine. She felt his
large hands grabbing her hips and pulling her down in perfect
unison with his own rhythm. Her chest flushed red as she closed her
eyes and dug her fingers into Mark’s shoulders.
“I love you,” she said. Perhaps the only words she could find
in the midst of an intense orgasm.
“Oh… God…” Mark replied, grabbing hold of her firm ass and
tensing every muscle in his body. His cock convulsed, injecting an
almost endless stream inside her.
They kissed again, passionately, like neither of them had ever
been kissed before; desperate to touch one another.
“This is going to sound crazy,” whispered Mark tentatively.
“But I think I love you too…”
* * *
*
Stacey stared helplessly at Mark who had been stripped naked
and tied to a chair in the middle of the room.
“Let him go!” She screamed, trying to wriggle free.
'Shut up and watch, bitch,' the man from behind scorned
through gritted teeth, taking a lock of her fine brown hair and
pulling it hard, directing her gaze towards her restrained
husband.
“Gennaro, I believe I gave you an order, yet you appear to be
stood in the exact same spot you were a minute ago,” Vincent said,
almost in disbelief.
One of the other men stepped forward and aimed a silenced .22
towards Mark's legs. Without hesitation he fired two shots directly
into his targets knee caps and then slid the gun back inside his
overcoat. Blood slowly trickled out from where each bullet had
pierced his skin, but Mark didn't so much as flinch.
"No! Stop it, please!" Stacey begged, screaming
involuntarily.
"Will somebody shut her up?" Vincent yelled, showing signs of
irritation for the first time since he marched through the door
almost an hour ago. “I don’t want people to think that something
untoward is going on up here, you know what I’m saying? Giuseppe,
do that thing that you do… you know, with the panties and the tape.
I like it when you do that.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Giuseppe, the biggest of all the intruders, walked slowly over
towards Stacey.
“Keep still,” he said, looking deep into Stacey’s eyes, and
before she had chance to react he clenched his fist and punched her
hard in the side of the stomach. Instantly she gasped for breath,
her mouth gaping, trying to inhale. Debilitated, she was powerless
to stop Giuseppe unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them off her
legs. Clearly uncomfortable with being exposed in front of a house
full of unwelcome guests, she tried to cross her legs in order to
keep a bit of dignity, but Giuseppe easily ripped through the
fabric and pulled her panties from between her thighs.
“This is how we keep the bitches quiet where I come from,” he
said quietly, about an inch from her face, the smell of strong
coffee infiltrating her nostrils.
Her eyes screwed closed, as he stuffed her torn panties into
her mouth, her harsh gasps stifled by the soft cotton inside her
throat, as Giuseppe finished the job by covering her mouth with two
strips of thick black tape.
"Excellent,” Vincent said, grinning and clapping playfully.
“It gets me every time, it really does. Now, about your husband,
what are we going to do?"
Vincent paused, waiting for a response he knew full well would
never come.
“You don’t wanna talk either? Well what a surprise that
is.”
Another short, pensive pause followed.
“Tony, you got a beautiful woman right in front of you with
next to no clothes on and you haven’t even touched her once, what
are you? Are you gay now? Do I have to chop off your balls or
what?”
“I’m not gay boss… I was just…”
“Just what? Just staring at her naked husband? Do me a favour
and slap her on the ass, wake her up a bit. Come on, Tony, nice and
hard.”
Tony shook his head, clearly displeased with his public
humiliation, but Vincent knew exactly how to get inside his head
and make him angry, and he knew that he would take his frustration
out on Stacey. Holding the back of her neck, Tony pushed Stacey’s
head down so she was bent over with her ass pushing into his
crotch. He lifted his hand and swung his open palm down hard onto
her bare skin, making her whole body jump forwards shortly after
impact. He left his hand in the same spot for a few seconds,
gaining pleasure from her tingling skin, and then he did it again,
much to the amusement of the others, until Vincent eventually gave
the signal to stop.
“I think she might be ready to face the music,” Vincent
laughed. “Bring her over here, next to her loving husband. I want
to fill her in on a few details I think she may currently be
missing out on. Sit her on his lap.”
Between them, Tony and Giuseppe dragged Stacey over to her
motionless husband. His head had tipped backwards and was nestled
in a groove on the top of the backrest. His hands were bound behind
his back and his feet were taped to the two front legs of the
chair.
“Strap her on too,” Vincent ordered.
Stacey offered no fight as she was lifted into the air and
subsequently lowered onto her husband’s flaccid cock, her hands
bound behind his neck and her feet taped to the two back legs of
the chair.
“Well would you look at that,” said Vincent, ripping the tape
from Stacey’s mouth. “You two make a great couple.”
She spat her soaked panties onto the floor and coughed as she
tried to regain a regular breathing pattern.
“I bet this isn’t the first time you’ve been in this position
is it?” Vincent sniggered, to which Stacey responded by spitting in
his face.
He inhaled sharply, before wiping the spit from his cheek and
licking it from the back of his hand. He was visibly excited by her
defiance and had to wait a few seconds as he gathered his
composure.
“As nice as that was,” he continued. “Let’s try and stay on
track here. So, your husband. I’m guessing he gave you the ‘I work
for one of the big law firms’ speech didn’t he? Well, I hope he
did, because that’s exactly what I told him to say. What he
probably didn’t tell you is that when we met he was a very small
fish in a very big pond. In fact, he wasn’t even a fish, he
was
whatever fish eat
, and he didn’t swim in a pond, he swam in an ocean full of
sharks and whales and fuckin’ stingrays and, well you get the
picture. He was just starting out, trying to make his way as a cop,
but in truth he was just a nobody, going nowhere, painfully slowly.
‘But Vincent, how did he afford to pay for this amazing apartment
in this amazing area and all the wonderful things inside it,’ I
hear you thinking. Well, isn’t that an interesting question? You
see, this is where I come in. I knew through various connections
that he needed cash to pay for his mother’s medical fees and he
sure as hell wasn’t going to get it through a fuckin’ promotion.
Now, let it never be said that Vincent Moriello doesn’t appreciate
how important a strong family bond is. I invited him to my uncle’s
pizzeria and told him straight up that I wanted to give him the
money. I was honest from the outset. I told him what I wanted and
what would happen if he didn’t accept, and I don’t know whether it
was the thought of having to watch his mother die a slow and
painful death, or my generally friendly nature that finally won him
over, but regardless he left with the money and I left with a cop
in my pocket. A shit cop, but a cop all the same. ‘Why did I need
to buy a cop,’ I hear you ask. That’s another good question, I can
see why he liked you; you’re smart. Well, in my line of work it’s
very important that we have the option to occasionally call on
somebody who might, for example, give us insider information on
certain people or help make certain legal obstacles disappear. Of
course, more often than not it was little things like
‘accidentally’ dropping important legal documents into a
shredder.”
“So, he lied to me about his job, but he still doesn’t deserve
any of this,” Stacey protested, her throat swollen from choking
back her tears. “Let us go, please.”
“I’m sorry sweet-heart, you see, it’s one thing lying to you,
but when he starts lying to me, then we have a real problem. He was
supposed to get you to testify against your old friend; the fat one
who pimped you out. I hate that fat fuck, really I do. It’s his
name, I can’t stand it, and he’s always got food stains on his
clothes. It’s truly disgusting. Now, I’m guessing by the look of
surprise on your face that you didn’t know anything about this, and
having found these two plane tickets to London hiding in the back
of your husband’s dresser, I’m guessing he wasn’t ever going to
tell you about
any
of it. So it seems as though you are Little Miss Innocent
after-all. However, as a result of him not doing what I asked him
to do, your fat friend is free to roam the streets, and my brother
is receiving the special treatment up at the asylum. You see, this
is exactly the kind of situation I paid him to avoid, yet here we
are, balls deep right in the middle of a situation. I really don’t
know what he was thinking. The truth of the matter is that I
honestly don’t care anymore.”
Vincent sighed before continuing in a more serious
tone.
“Take a look at your husband. Really look at him. Tied up,
naked with his half naked wife riding him in front of a house full
of strangers, it’s cute, real cute. Mark, if you can still hear me,
I want you to know that we will take real good care of your wife,
don’t worry about her, you hear me? Sweet-heart, give your husband
a kiss.”
She shook her head and looked up at Vincent. Her eyes wrought
with sorrow, silently begging him to leave them alone.
“I haven’t got all night,” he snapped. “I’m extending you this
opportunity to have one last intimate moment with your husband.
Please, accept it, because you won’t get another.”
Stacey’s trembled uncontrollably as she told Mark that she
loved him for the last time. Planting a long kiss on his forehead
and muttering the words – ‘Thank you for loving me.’
“Ok boys, if you will please.”
Gennaro and Tony cut the tape that had bound Stacey to the
chair and lifted her onto the adjacent leather sofa, where Giuseppe
pinned her down. Vincent dragged Mark from the chair and laid him
down on the floor, folding his arms across his chest.
“It’s time,” he declared.
Giuseppe once again used his considerable physique to inflict
more pain upon Stacey’s slight body, looming over her and punching
her thighs so hard they went dead; her muscles crushed against the
bone, leaving her temporarily paralysed from the waist down. Her
saliva coated panties were stuffed back into her mouth and the tape
re-applied, muffling her agonising cries as Giuseppe effortlessly
placed her on to her husband’s face. His mouth gagged and his nose
buried deep in her ass, she could feel his body jolt as it began to
yearn for oxygen and what little life remained inside him slowly
drained away. She tried to stand up, but her legs were still weak;
her whole body was weak. Her heart felt heavy inside her chest. The
only man who had ever loved her had taken his last
breath.
“Sweet-heart, believe me when I tell you that every man wants
to die this way,” Vincent joked, attracting a wave of boisterous
laughter from his men. “Take her to the car and put her in the
trunk. We owe my brother an apology.”
Chapter 2
“You see, my brother had earned himself something of an
unwanted reputation,” explained Vincent, staring out the window
from the backseat of his car. “I’m not saying he didn’t do the
things he was accused of, I know he did. He used to call me and
tell me about it. I’m actually starting to miss those late night
phone-calls.”
Sat next to him was Stacey, who had spent the last fortnight
in complete silence in a single room within Vincent’s large family
home. His Portuguese house-keeper, Monica, who quite probably ended
up working for Vincent after an ordeal similar to Stacey’s, had
taken care of her during that time, but like everybody else, she
had so far failed to have any meaningful dialogue with her new
guest.
“Are you even listening?” Asked Vincent. “I have ways of
making people listen, as you know, so God help you if you’re not
listening to me right now. I thought that maybe after bringing you
into my home you might have been more grateful, but it seems I was
wrong.”
“I heard you,” she replied, venomously.
“Oh, it talks! Tony did you hear that? She has a
voice!”
“I heard, boss,” said Tony, designated driver for the day. “A
pretty voice too.”