*Auction*
A Russo Saga CAPO Treat
Chloe:
CONT:
“What’s going on?” My voice is shaky and pathetically squeaky.
Something cold is dragged along the inside of my leg and stops against my naked pussy. Then pain hits me like nothing I’ve ever felt. An intense jolt of electricity surges through me and I scream.
I scream, forgetting words, forgetting how to breathe, the shock of the pain too great to even form a thought.
Then it stops and I slump, my knees folding. Only my tied wrists prevent me from falling into a heap on the floor.
“Please,” I rasp, a mere whisper I hope someone hears. “I don’t understand.”
Rough fingers grip my chin and tilt up my head. “Stand up! Or I’ll shock you again.”
I shoot up on trembling legs. “Why?”
Merciless agony crackles between my legs again and I wail in despair. I manage to remain standing, though, because I have a feeling I’ll have a lot more coming if I don’t do what I’m told. Twitching and shaking, I gasp for air.
It stops. Everything is silent for a moment.
“Open your mouth.”
I’m about to ask why, but think better of it. My jaw is locked from the fear, the chill and the pain, but I manage to force it open.
“Wider.”
A cold ball is forced between my teeth and then tied firmly into place with straps that snap together in my neck.
“Mmm!” Then I stop, freezing up in fear for the punishment.
It doesn't come.
This time.
A pat on my cheek. “Good girl.”
I’m horrified. I’ve gone from living like any normal girl, with my job, a place to live, and my friends, to being forced into captivity by a mob boss - an arrangement I’ve begun to accept as my new life with its weird ups and downs - to being tied up, clearly on display before God knows how many people, and already conditioned to keep quiet and obey.
My heart hammers so loud it seems to roar in my head. Saliva I can’t swallow pools beneath the ballgag and dribbles along my chin, landing cold and wet on my chest.
“Chloe. Natural red-head. Fair-skinned and with a low threshold for pain. Twenty-six years old. US born. One owner. Enjoys hard caning, nipple clamps, pussy clamps, hours on the cross, and loves rough fucks in all holes. Can be passed around among your friends for everyone’s enjoyment. Starting at five hundred k.”
The voice in the loudspeaker drones on and on about…
Me! I stare in shock beneath the blindfold, the darkness suffocating. Then it’s pulled off. I squint hard against the spotlights, but I see.
My stomach clenches and I almost throw up then and there. I’m surrounded by men in suits, all eyes on me, leery, calculating, evil,hungry.
The room spins, faster and faster, a void opens up inside me. This isn’t happening. This. Isn’t. Happening.
“Let the auction begin!”
I scream.
“What the fuck, Chloe?”
I flail against hands, against arms, strong, hairy, unyielding arms. I recognize the scent. It’s comforting and familiar, and it scares me to death.
I don’t know how I got free, but I fight the man-demon.
I lose. I always lose.
“Shh. Let it go now. You’re having a nightmare.” A hand strokes my cheek.
The dream fades. I didn’t think I’d find such relief in waking up next to Luciano Salvatore.
I exhale on a shudder and turn away from him, fighting the ache between my legs his touch always awakens.
In the evening he’s cruel and cold, his eyes like dark fires, his whole being one of pain and mercilessness.
In the morning he’s tender and pretend-caring. In the morning he almost makes me believe he could be another man. A man I could care for.
It’s morning.
It’s morning, and my never-ending hell starts again.
I’m Chloe Becker.
I’m no one.
I’m the property of the capo.
“What’s going on?” My voice is shaky and pathetically squeaky.
Something cold is dragged along the inside of my leg and stops against my naked pussy. Then pain hits me like nothing I’ve ever felt. An intense jolt of electricity surges through me and I scream.
I scream, forgetting words, forgetting how to breathe, the shock of the pain too great to even form a thought.
Then it stops and I slump, my knees folding. Only my tied wrists prevent me from falling into a heap on the floor.
“Please,” I rasp, a mere whisper I hope someone hears. “I don’t understand.”
Rough fingers grip my chin and tilt up my head. “Stand up! Or I’ll shock you again.”
I shoot up on trembling legs. “Why?”
Merciless agony crackles between my legs again and I wail in despair. I manage to remain standing, though, because I have a feeling I’ll have a lot more coming if I don’t do what I’m told. Twitching and shaking, I gasp for air.
It stops. Everything is silent for a moment.
“Open your mouth.”
I’m about to ask why, but think better of it. My jaw is locked from the fear, the chill and the pain, but I manage to force it open.
“Wider.”
A cold ball is forced between my teeth and then tied firmly into place with straps that snap together in my neck.
“Mmm!” Then I stop, freezing up in fear for the punishment.
It doesn't come.
This time.
A pat on my cheek. “Good girl.”
I’m horrified. I’ve gone from living like any normal girl, with my job, a place to live, and my friends, to being forced into captivity by a mob boss - an arrangement I’ve begun to accept as my new life with its weird ups and downs - to being tied up, clearly on display before God knows how many people, and already conditioned to keep quiet and obey.
My heart hammers so loud it seems to roar in my head. Saliva I can’t swallow pools beneath the ballgag and dribbles along my chin, landing cold and wet on my chest.
“Chloe. Natural red-head. Fair-skinned and with a low threshold for pain. Twenty-six years old. US born. One owner. Enjoys hard caning, nipple clamps, pussy clamps, hours on the cross, and loves rough fucks in all holes. Can be passed around among your friends for everyone’s enjoyment. Starting at five hundred k.”
The voice in the loudspeaker drones on and on about…
Me! I stare in shock beneath the blindfold, the darkness suffocating. Then it’s pulled off. I squint hard against the spotlights, but I see.
My stomach clenches and I almost throw up then and there. I’m surrounded by men in suits, all eyes on me, leery, calculating, evil,hungry.
The room spins, faster and faster, a void opens up inside me. This isn’t happening. This. Isn’t. Happening.
“Let the auction begin!”
I scream.
“What the fuck, Chloe?”
I flail against hands, against arms, strong, hairy, unyielding arms. I recognize the scent. It’s comforting and familiar, and it scares me to death.
I don’t know how I got free, but I fight the man-demon.
I lose. I always lose.
“Shh. Let it go now. You’re having a nightmare.” A hand strokes my cheek.
The dream fades. I didn’t think I’d find such relief in waking up next to Luciano Salvatore.
I exhale on a shudder and turn away from him, fighting the ache between my legs his touch always awakens.
In the evening he’s cruel and cold, his eyes like dark fires, his whole being one of pain and mercilessness.
In the morning he’s tender and pretend-caring. In the morning he almost makes me believe he could be another man. A man I could care for.
It’s morning.
It’s morning, and my never-ending hell starts again.
I’m Chloe Becker.
I’m no one.
I’m the property of the capo.