“Sit,” I heard the voice I had grown to recognize by now.
I did as I was told. Resistance would be pointless. A while later, I saw Massimo in the gloom. He was drying his hair with a towel. I swallowed loudly, amazed by the view and animated with the alcohol I had had. Massimo was standing by a giant bed supported by four monolithic beams. The mattress was strewn with dozens of purple, gold, and black pillows. The room was dark, classily furnished, and very luxurious. I grabbed the armrests of the armchair I was sitting in as he started to walk my way. I could not take my eyes off the penis now dangling in front of my face. I was staring, my mouth agape. He only stopped when his legs touched my knees. Massimo threw the white towel over his shoulders, grabbing its ends. When his predatory stare met my eyes, I began to pray silently. I was begging God for the strength to resist what I was seeing. What I was feeling.
Massimo was perfectly aware of his effect on me. I wasn’t too hard to read then, not to mention that I was sucking on my lower lip without realizing it. It wasn’t exactly helping to mask my feelings.
Slowly he reached for his prick with his right hand and started stroking it, from the base to the very tip. I prayed harder. His body was flexing. The steely hard muscles of his stomach grew taut, and the penis I was doing everything in my power not to look at was growing, swelling.
“Will you help me?” Massimo asked without taking his eyes off me. Without stopping to play with himself. “I won’t do anything without your consent. Remember that.”
Oh, God, he didn’t even have to do anything. He didn’t have to physically touch me to ignite my passion and focus my entire being on him, that magnificent cock, and the thought of sucking it. The last clear-thinking vestiges of my psyche were screaming at me now—if he got what he wanted, the game would stop holding his interest. And I wouldn’t feel pleased with myself for succumbing to him this fast. At this point I was sure he would have me, sooner or later. The only question was when. My reptilian brain reminded me that the man masturbating before me was the same man who wanted to kill my family. In an instant, my arousal evaporated, replaced with anger and hate.
“You’ve got to be joking,” I scoffed. “I’m not going to help you with anything. Besides, you’ve got people for everything. Why don’t you ask them?” I raised my eyes. “Can I go now?”
I tried getting up from the armchair, but Massimo grabbed me by the neck and pinned me to the backrest. He leaned over and smirked.
“Are you sure that’s what you want, Laura?”
“Let me go, for fuck’s sake,” I hissed.
He did just that and walked away toward the bed. I got up and grabbed the door handle, wanting to leave this room right then before my thoughts started to focus on things I didn’t want to think about. The door was closed. The Man in Black picked up his phone from the nightstand, dialed a number, and said something before hanging up.
“Come here,” he ordered.
“Let me out! I want to leave!” I was pulling at the handle, screaming.
Massimo swung the towel to the bed and was standing with his arms hanging loose now, fixing me with his icy gaze.
“Come over here, Laura. I won’t repeat myself.”
I leaned against the door, intending to follow none of his orders. Massimo let out a deep roar and charged at me. I squeezed my eyes shut, fearing what was going to happen. Then I felt my body being lifted and hitting the bed an instant later. The Man in Black muttered something in Italian under his breath. When I felt myself sink between the pillows, I opened my eyes only to see Massimo looming over me again. He grabbed my right hand and handcuffed it to one of the four pillars of the bed. Then he went for the left one, but I managed to squirm free and hit him first. He clenched his teeth before letting out a furious bellow. I knew I crossed a line there. He clutched my wrist again, painfully hard, and pulled my arm toward the handcuff affixed to the other pillar, all the while pinning my body to the mattress.
“I’ll do what I want with you,” he growled, sneering.
I kicked out, thrashing on the bed, until he sat astride my legs, his back turned to me, and drew out a short tube. I had no idea what that was. I only wanted him to finally get off me. But then he fastened two soft collars sticking from both ends of the tube around my ankles, reaching to the third pillar. From behind it, he pulled out a chain, fixing it to the collar wrapped around my right ankle. He repeated the operation with my left ankle. Finally, Massimo stood up, admiring his work. He had a satisfied smirk on his face and was clearly aroused by the whole situation. I, on the other hand, was disoriented and dazed. I jerked with my legs, but the tube to which they were cuffed only elongated in response, locking them stiffly in place. Massimo bit his lower lip.
“I was hoping you would do that. This is a telescopic bar. It can elongate but will not shorten unless you know where to push.”
I started panicking. I was immobilized with my legs spread wide—an invitation for my tormentor. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. I stiffened.
The Man in Black moved closer, pulled the sheets from under me, and covered me with them.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said with that same smirk on his face as he walked to the door.
He opened it and led a young woman inside. I couldn’t see her clearly, but she had long, dark hair and wore impossibly high-heeled stilettos accentuating the shape of her toned legs. Massimo told her something and the girl froze. That’s when I realized he was still naked. The woman didn’t seem to care.
Then he covered the distance between us and leaned over me, lifting my head and putting a pillow beneath it so I could see the whole room without having to exert any muscles.
“I’d like to show you something. Something that you’re going to miss out on,” he whispered, biting my earlobe gently.
He returned to the other side of the room and sat back in the sofa chair opposite the bed I was strapped to. Keeping his eyes on me, he called out to the woman in Italian. Hearing it, she burst into motion, stepping out of her dress and standing before Massimo in her underwear. My heart started pounding as she dropped to her knees and promptly started to suck my oppressor’s cock. His hands landed on her head, his fingers entwining her hair. I couldn’t believe it. His black eyes were fixing me with a steady gaze. He was breathing heavily, greedily gulping air. The girl knew what she was doing. She was a pro. Once in a while Massimo would say something in Italian, as if instructing her. In response, she moaned lusciously. I watched them, trying to come to grips with what I was feeling. His piercing gaze made my body burn with desire. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him—his ecstasy.
The fact that it wasn’t me between his legs chafed at me. Was I jealous? Did I envy this woman? Over that bossy prick? I pushed that thought away. I wouldn’t want what she was having. But I couldn’t stop staring all the same. At one moment, Massimo tightened his grip on the girl’s head and brutally pushed his cock into her throat, making her choke. She wasn’t sucking him off anymore—he was fucking her mouth. He went in deep and fast. I squirmed on the bed, making the chains holding me in place rattle against the wooden posts. I was breathing heavily now, my chest heaving too fast for my liking. The show Massimo was starring in was exciting me, stoking the flames of my passion, but at the same making me angry. I understood the words he had said to me before the girl approached him. Yeah, I was jealous. It required a conscious effort, but I managed to close my eyes and turn my head to the side.