Sold to the mafia

Anthony

I hear the door shut with a loud click and lean back, reveling in how perfect she is. She’s caught up in her own mind and holding back, but she’s exactly how I dreamed she’d be.

It’s going to be so fucking good when she finally lets go. I need to break those walls down and I’m doing that as soon as fucking possible. Fuck patience. She needs a push. She’s desperate to get out of that room and I can’t blame her. Come tonight, if I don’t let her out, she’ll be sleeping on a hard as fuck floor. I don’t want that for her, and I don’t want her in that cell. But I don’t have a choice. She needs to learn.

The thought brings to mind the memory of her scraping her teeth against my finger. If I’m honest with myself, it was hot as hell. I love how brazen she is, but she knew what she was doing.

She had to be punished. There’s a lot of research on the psychology of motivation via punishment and reward. Reward is always better, but when punishment needs to happen it’s best if the severity of the punishment is in direct proportion to the offense. Ideally it should also be swift, taking place as soon as possible after the misdeed. If you merely give a slap on the wrist, the behavior is more than likely to occur again, and also more likely to be a worse transgression.

I needed that punishment to be aggressive to keep her from pushing. But I didn’t like that I had to do it. It’s better now that it’s over with. Hopefully things will continue to go as planned, and the next time she pushes it’ll be minimal. And that way I can get my hands on her ass and move this along to other forms of play.

My fingers twitch with the need to touch her again. I don’t know if she noticed how she rocked her cunt against my hand. I know she was hot and wet from what we did, and she should have been. There’s nothing wrong with being turned on by what happened. It’s natural.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I just need to break down the social constructs she has built in her head. She has to learn to give in to her needs and desires. She has to learn to trust that I’m gonna give her everything she could ever want. The life she’s built; she can have it. But I can add so much more. I can let her give in to her own dark desires and show her a world she’s only dreamed of. I’ll teach her that. Tonight I’ll give her a test, and if she obeys the one command I give her, I’ll let her out of that room. That will be huge for us. I only hope she doesn’t disappoint me.

She’s too headstrong and preoccupied with right and wrong. She knows she wants this, but I don’t think a girl like her gives into desires. She’s strict in her regimen, and doesn’t reward herself much. I’ll have to ease her into enjoying this, one reward at a time.

I make my way to the dining room where I left my phone and cringe when I see I’ve missed messages. Three are from Vince. I put my password in and take a look. The first and most recent text is from Tommy, my brother, but also my partner in the hits.

Cassys have another for us.

Cassys are the Cassanos. Ever since we started taking on outside hits, they’ve been good customers. Apparently they get pissed off. A lot.

The next three are from Vince. It looks like he sent them within minutes of each other, and the first one arrived almost immediately after my last message to him.

They seem to be under a different impression.

They want a timeline.

We’re talking tonight.

Fuck. I don’t like any of the shit in those messages. I don’t really give a fuck what impression the Cassanos are under. I bought her freedom from them. If they changed their minds, that’s on them. I don’t have to do shit for them, and neither does Vince.

I finally text back, I paid for this shipment.

What the fuck am I supposed to tell them? he asks, and I can practically hear his anger.

The deal’s done. I tell him simply.

I know we do a lot of business with them, but I don’t like where Vince’s head is at. He’s the Don and even though technically Tommy and I aren’t included in the familia shit, we’re not fooling anyone. He’s the boss, and we’re still untouchables. We’re still family and familia and nothing changes that. It also means I have to listen to the fuck. Usually I agree with him. But on this? No. I don’t fucking like the way he’s talking.

What do you need from me? I ask after a moment.

I need a timeline.

I stare at the phone. I don’t know what to say. I never had one in mind. And I sure as fuck don’t plan on making one now.

I don’t have one. Your call.

I send the text, knowing full well that whatever deadline he gives me, I’m going to try to and extend it. The phone goes off, but I don’t look at it. I’ll figure this shit out later. Nothing is going to ruin this for me.

I put the phone down and leave it there, knowing damn well I’m not going to like anything he has to say about this. I need to get started on something to eat tonight and make sure her room is set up.

I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I have a good feeling that she’s going to pass this test. I fucking hope she does. She desperately needs to cum. My eyes fly to the door to the basement. Fuck! I didn’t tell her she wasn’t allowed to touch herself without my permission. Fuck me, I didn’t tell her anything.

She’s a smart girl though, and she’s read a lot of dirty books. She should know better.

She had better know better.