Sold to the mafia

13



Isaac

“Dahlia is all wound up now,” Lucian says with a smirk. He’s been excited since he got here. I’ve never seen him so happy.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” I warn him. He enjoyed the show last night. Everyone did. Subspace is a particularly alluring mental side effect of BDSM. Katia was a perfect example last night. At the end of the show, I only had to blow gently on her clit to make her cum. She’ll be sore tonight. I instinctively look toward the foyer as I put the cold beer glass to my lips.

“No shit. She also doesn’t have a pain tolerance like your kitten does.”

My body tenses as he calls Katia by my pet name for her. It’s odd how I don’t mind a room full of capable, powerful men watching my sweet pet cum on command and get so lost in pleasure that she’s incoherent, yet the mention of her pet name by another man has me on edge. By my best friend, no less.

He raises his hands in defense. “Your kitten.” He emphasizes “your,” and my hackles lower some.

“You’ve been on edge lately,” he says softly. Lowering his voice, he asks, “Is it because of the,” he clears his throat, “the hit?”

My blood runs cold, and I shake my head. I hate even mentioning something like that once it’s done. “That went off easily, just like I told you.”

He nods his head, a grim look on his face as he takes a sip of his whiskey. “You’ll never know how much good that did for her.”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

I looked into Dahlia’s uncle for Lucian. Killing that bastard did the world a justice. A man who hurts little girls doesn’t deserve to live.

“I’m happy to put her mind at ease.” I truly am. Life and death are two things I take with serious consideration. It was easy to find that prick. With a criminal record and a current location available in the databases because of his past conviction, he was an easy target.

I look down at my hands as I think about the men I’ve killed. I can count them all on both hands. And each deserved their deaths. But I hate it. I hate the man I am.

With all this blood on my hands, I’d never be able to keep a woman like Katia. She doesn’t deserve a murderer. But I can give her justice. I can heal her before I have to set her free.

The two men I’m searching for in Colombia for my kitten… they’re harder to find. Everything indicates they’re dead. But I won’t believe it until I see more evidence. I have friends in many places. Low and high both. And if they’re still breathing, I’ll find them. I won’t stop until I do.

Even if she never submits to me, I’ll make sure they pay for what they did to her.

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” Lucian sounds remorseful. “I can tell something’s bothering you.”

I sigh heavily. “You would be too if Dahlia denied you.”

I’m growing tired of it. She’s perfectly content living this way, but I need more.

Weeks have passed and each evening Katia comes and waits for me, with my chain around her neck. When I’m not there at the entrance to greet her, she denies everyone who gives her attention. She’s respectful, but she answers that she’s waiting for her Master.

It only took a few times of me fetching her and bringing her to the office for everyone to know she’s mine. She sits at my feet while I work and then I take her to the private rooms.

The playrooms are entertaining when I wish to mark her, but I feel hollow.

She won’t wear my collar.

She won’t let me take her home.

She has night terrors still. She tells me after the fact, but it kills me that I’m not there with her.

She’s denying me my role as Master… for this. I don’t even know what I’d call it. It’s like playtime. Yes, she’s obedient and I enjoy her company. But this isn’t what I wanted. It’s only a taste of what she truly needs. And barely a fraction of what I want with her.

But she won’t give me more.

I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

Last night I punished her for denying me. I finally lost it. I have needs, and she’s to meet them. She’s my Slave, for fuck’s sake! She can’t be that if she doesn’t see me outside of the walls of Club X.

I picked up the paddle and forced her onto her knees. Smacking the flat wooden paddle over and over against the flesh of her lush ass.

Right, left, center. Her pale skin turned a bright red. She screamed out the count of the hits and tears fell from the corner of her eyes.

Forty hits. Her skin was hot and blistering red. I know her ass is bruised.

She was hot and wet and ready for me when I was done. Angrily I took her, fucking her with every bit of anger I had. She wanted it. That’s what throws me off so much. She wanted me to punish her. She’d rather that than to give me all her power.

I hated it. She came over and over on my dick, but I couldn’t get off. Not like that.

I need something to change.

She feels guilty, and she wants this relationship, I know she does. But she can’t commit. She’s scared.

But I’m fucking tired of waiting.

I was restless as she lay next to me, nestling into the crook of my arm as I kissed her hair and rubbed soothing strokes over her arm. I don’t just want sex. Yes, she follows the rules, but what’s the point if I’m not there when she needs me?

I want more. But this is all she’s giving me.

Madam Lynn walks past us and I quickly stand up, nearly knocking over the heavy table. Lucian pulls back his drink and steadies it. His brow furrows as he looks at me questioningly, but I don’t respond. I need to go talk to her while I can.

“Madam Lynn,” I call out to her.

She graciously turns on her heels. “Yes?” she asks.

“I’m in need of your advice,” I say quietly.

“Is that so?”

“It is.” I’m irritated by how casually she’s speaking, but then again, I’ve been irritable for days now. “Katia is… content.”

“She has no reason to further the relationship.” I say to her.

“I see,” Madam Lynn says, her eyes falling to the floor.

“She needs to be pushed. She’s too afraid to give herself what she needs.”

“You knew when you took her that she may not be ready?” She says the statement as though it’s a question.

“Of course I knew, but she needs this. You know she does.” Anyone looking at her know she’s in need. I’m failing her as a Master because she’s denying me. I can’t allow it!

“That’s not for me-” Madam Lynn starts to say, but I cut her off.

“She still has night terrors. Do you know that?” I ask her with a harsher voice than I should, anger and desperation flooding into my voice. Several men turn to look at me, but I ignore them. It’s not okay. “Late at night she screams, and she’s alone. She doesn’t even message me!” I only know because I look into her messages online. She needs me. “She doesn’t realize how much she needs this.”

Or maybe she does. Lately I’ve been wondering if she’s denying herself this. If she knows that I can help her, but she’s choosing to avoid it in favor of the pain.

It may be unconscious.

It may be her way of punishing herself for wanting this lifestyle. It rips my heart into two. I hate it. I can’t fucking stand it any longer.

“Convince her,” Madam Lynn says to me. I huff a humorless laugh, pinching the bridge of my nose as a pounding headache takes over.

“How?” I ask her.

“The auction will seal her fate.” Madam Lynn’s words turn my blood to ice. I don’t want her to go up for auction. I can’t stand the fact that she would be seen as available to anyone else.

“I don’t see how-” I start to say, but Madam Lynn cuts in.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.” She gives me a small smile and nods, holding my gaze.

The auction. My heart beats slower as I picture her on the stage upstairs in the dark room, the lights on her. I don’t know how Madam Lynn could possibly convince her. Katia has no interest in money.

But in this moment I trust her. I don’t know what else I can do.


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