BDSM Library - Story: Harvest Of Tears - The Organization Series 4, Chapter: Chapter 11

HARVEST OF TEARS

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 11

By slave ruthie

It had not been the best of rides but it was certainly exhilarating.

Horse and human thundered across the immaculate lawns without a care for the ruined turf. Blond mane flew in unison with dark hair in the crisp, dawn breeze as the Arab stallion conveyed his mistress home from their early morning gallop. Rosario dismounted, whispered her thanks into her steed's ear, and then handed the reins to a waiting groom. He nervously lowered his eyes and stammered in response to her sharp instructions. Turning to leave, she paused. "Giuseppe. I almost forgot - how is your mother?"

"My mother? She is very sick, padrona." The young man was amazed that the padrona even knew his name, never mind knowing about his mother's terminal illness. Now that she could no longer work in the laundry, everybody depended on him - particularly his many younger brothers and sisters. Although the Cosa Nostra gave a little allowance since his hit-man father had been sentenced to life imprisonment for killing a judge, it was never enough. He sighed. "For her it is very bad, padrona. It is soon her end, I think."

"Then why are you still over here?"

Giuseppe turned away to avoid her penetrating gaze. "I have little money, padrona. I send home my pay for the family and I cannot afford the fare."

Rosario frowned then spoke into her radio. "Alfonso? Have the Learjet ready at LaGuardia in one hour for departure to Palermo. No, not for me - it is for young Giuseppe from the stables." She turned to the gaping seventeen year-old. "Here, give me the reins. That was good work last night, by the way. For a young man, you controlled yourself very well. Now get your things and report to Alfonso."

Giuseppe sank to his knees and tried to kiss her hand, overwhelmed by his employer's compassion. "Padrona! Grazie, grazie!"

"Enough of that. Family is everything and when you work for us, you are part of our Family too. Next time you have a problem, you tell me - capische? Now go. You leave in ten minutes - RUN!" Yes, she thought, watching the lad dash for the servants' quarters, the Family really IS everything.

Rosario patted her horse and led him to be rubbed down. Oasis Fire was certainly ready to be entered in the Dubai endurance race but sadly, she would not be riding him. Nonno Marco would not permit her to risk her neck, as she was the sole heir to the Family's vast financial and criminal network. "I have lost my only son and I cannot lose my only grandchild too, my sweet Rosario. It would break my heart and your death would start the greatest gang war for succession the world has ever seen. It would tear our Family's empire apart." She knew he was right even though her father's assassination meant her childhood dreams of competitive riding could never now be fulfilled.

Oasis Fire breathed on her neck as they entered the stable courtyard. "Not this morning, boy. I have another pony to deal with. Tomorrow, I promise you, I will tend you personally." The horse appeared to look reproachfully at his mistress but dutifully entered his stall. A typical male, she thought with amusement, wanting to be the center of attraction all the time.

The occupant of the adjoining stall blinked in the sudden, harsh daylight then pressed against the concrete wall in terror when she saw who had entered. Rosario took her time, enjoying Maria's evident fear, savoring how humiliated and helpless her new slave must be feeling. The naked girl had been cruelly buckled into a stiff, leather body harness and full-head bridle. Maria's hands and feet were trapped inside hobbled pony boots and gloves that ended with dainty hooves, making her appear like a heavily restrained foal. On Rosario's explicit instructions, the inside of the broad leather strap between Maria's bruised and red-latticed thighs held two thick plugs in place that would be terribly uncomfortable reminders of her gang rape several hours earlier by most of the male staff and guards. How the girl had piteously moaned, cried and finally wailed in misery as the men queued up for their turn with the stuck-up Belgian tart, reducing her from an inexperienced virgin to a well-used whore in a single night.

Rosario had orchestrated the marathon session, choosing which equipment was used to restrain and hurt the girl, and what sexual positions were employed for maximum cruelty and violation. At one point, she had held Maria's head up by her hair while she half-hung in spreader bars over a padded bench, as one man brutally shafted her ass from behind. When Rosario forced her ring-gagged mouth towards Giuseppe's waiting cock, the look of abject misery in Maria's eyes was beyond price. It was hardly surprising that the girl was so frightened by her mere presence in the stall.

Rosario lightly tapped her red crop against the thigh of her jodhpurs. "Trot over here, little pony, or would you prefer to be whipped again?" Despite her restrictive fetters, Maria struggled across the straw on her hoofed hands and feet then knelt as near to her mistress as the long chain on her collar would allow. "Good girl - now that was not so difficult, was it?" Rosario looked down at the former maid. Maria's back was still covered in red welts from the previous night's punishments. Rosario raised the crop and took a pace back. "Touch the end with your mouth shield." Maria leaned forward until her collar chain swung clear of the stable floor and tried to press the leather base of the penis gag against the crop's tip.

But she could not get far enough forward. Rosario moved the crop just out of reach. "Are you being disobedient? Do you want to be punished, slut?" She brought the tip tantalizingly close again but not too close. "I told you to touch the tip, slut." With a desperate moan, Maria tried again, pulling on her collar chain so tightly that she was beginning to choke. Whenever she almost reached the end of the crop, padrona Rosario placed it just out of range. "Are you deliberately trying to annoy me, pony-slut?" Maria wailed in desperation and lunged forwards, nearly throttling herself in the process. She almost managed to touch the crop.

Almost was not good enough.

The crop whistled through the air to make contact with Maria's backside. "I can see you still have much to learn. Cesare?" A white-haired older man immediately answered to the padrona's call. He scowled down at the quivering "pony". "I want this creature fucked hard on the hour, every hour. No opening is to be left unused. See that she pleases her lovers in every way and punish her severely if she fails. No lasting injury to her body, mind. I know how skillful you are with pain, Cesare. Nonno Marco told me you can make the bravest man crumble without leaving a single mark." Maria was so frightened at her words that she wet the straw. "Dirty little pony-slut. If you do not satisfy Cesare and his men, you will be mated with Oasis Fire. That should sell well on our websites, I think. A cute little ponygirl being taken from behind by a fully grown stallion - I wonder how many inches you could take." Maria shook her bridled head in horrified disbelief. "You are quite the little star, you know - last night's movie went online a couple of hours ago. By the time I set off for my morning ride, it had already been downloaded nearly 4,000 times." She ignored her ex-maid's wails of anguish and left the girl in Cesare's devastatingly capable hands.

As she strode into the lobby, Rosario noticed two things: the marble flagstone shone immaculately, except for the trail of dirt she was leaving behind her riding boots, and that Charles was standing over his naked slave who was scrubbing the floor with a small brush and a bucket of water.

Master Charles scowled at the line of muddy footprints from the vestibule to where Rosario now stood and jerked hard on his slave's leash. "Again!" He brought down the split leather tawse with his other arm to add another stinging red stripe to the others on Alexa's backside. The cruel strap lashed repeatedly, punctuating his angry words. "You - will - clean - it - all - again - until - it - is - perfect!"

Rosario remained cool although she was surprised by his fury towards the cowering girl. And Alexa appeared very distressed as she tried to submit to the excessive punishment. In fact, the little slave looked confused and frightened, as though she could not understand her master's rage towards her. Something was badly wrong. Rosario decided to intervene and gently touched his arm to stay the next blow. "Charles, dear - this is absolutely priceless." Her throaty chuckle caught him off guard. "It is so amusing to see my ward scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees like this! Do you have any idea how wealthy our little cleaning slut is?"

"No. Why should I care about that?" His terse reply was loudly abrupt and echoed around the vaulted ceiling.

Rosario saw that he had not meant to be rude but that he was fighting to control his temper. It was very out of character. "Well, let us just say that one of her trust’s smaller properties is the hotel complex that contains your Organization's New York Center on the top floors." She smiled and absently patted Alexa's trembling head, as if she was greeting a dog. "And to think she is cleaning my hall." He had lowered the leather strap that obviously terrified Alexa. Good. "Could you spare her for the morning? I promise to look after your little slave."

Charles almost refused but knew he had nearly lost control and was unfairly taking out his feelings of long-suppressed rage on Alexa. It was not her fault. He was furious with himself for not executing her a second time. He had failed in his duty, just as he had failed to save his pregnant wife and the shame and grief followed him like a curse. Why was the simple fact of owning a personal slave so damned complicated? "I do not think...oh just TAKE her then!" He thrust his slave's leash into Rosario's hand, startling both women. "Look, Rosario, have you seen Gérard anywhere? I tried to find him earlier and he did not answer his door."

"Ah, well that is my fault. You see, I kept the good doctor tied up most of the night." Rosario returned his puzzled glance with an enigmatic grin. "I can release him if you need him back, Charles."

"No, if Gérard is occupied on your behalf it will simply have to wait. Just forget it." With that, he stormed off - not even bothering to warn Alexa to obey Rosario without question.

Slave and Mistress watched him leave. "Well! What on earth have you done to make your master so angry with you?" Tears spilled from the kneeling girl's eyes as she shook her head in confusion. "Come along, little Alexa. You are not totally mute – I know you can whisper what you did wrong."

Alexa followed the line of her leash to Rosario's hand but was unable to meet her gaze. Her master had roughly shaken her awake in the early hours of the morning to drag her downstairs and make her clean the hall floor in Rosario's mansion. She must have scrubbed it at least five times but he had never been satisfied, repeatedly thrashing her on her buttocks and thighs with the horrid tawse like her mother had done when she wet herself in childhood. Her master had been furious with her but she had no idea why. It terrified her to see him so angry and upset. "N-not know...d-don't know, m-mistress!" She felt cool fingers tilting her chin upwards.

"Look at me. Good girl. Now, you are telling me the truth?" The tear-streaked, elfin-faced slave peered directly into her eyes and silently nodded without blinking or glancing away. "Bene. Well, perhaps he does not know either, little slave. Men can be very unpredictable and highly emotional for the slightest of reasons." Rosario's attempt at humor fell flat, the little slave obviously being too timid and upset to smile back. "Oh, come ON girl. I am not going to eat you...although the thought is quite tempting! I want us to be friends."

She stroked the slave's light brown hair and framed her face in her hands, softly murmuring, "You and I are so different and yet we have so much in common." Pulling her up by the leash, she startled Alexa by kissing her deeply on her mouth. The effect was gratifying as the little slave staggered then swooned forwards with half-lidded eyes while their tongues danced. The embrace lasted longer than either expected, leaving statuesque mistress and diminutive slave eying each other speculatively as they re-appraised their relationship.

"Well, then. Time for my morning swim. Tell me, little slave, would you like to come?"

The ambiguous question was not lost on Alexa who could still taste Rosario's sweet mouth on her own tingling lips. Her master's unexplained temper briefly forgotten, she shyly nodded and bobbed a curtsey to the Latin beauty towering above her.

"Good. Meet me in the smaller pool beneath the conservatory where you ate last night. I have something to attend to first but it will only take a few minutes."

Alexa watched her leave then picked up the brush and bucket to return them to the cupboard under the staircase. Then it hit her - she was on her own, unfettered, unrestrained, and free to go where she wished for the first time since Miller had abducted her off the streets of New York. Master Charles had always kept her chained in public until now. Her newfound freedom brought her no pleasure, instead she felt oddly lost and unsettled.

Rosario went up the sweeping staircase two steps at a time, peeling off her riding clothes in the long corridor and leaving them where they fell. By the time she reached the doors of her private quarters, she was completely naked. Gérard was exactly where she had left him. It was not surprising since she had chained him to the radiator, cuffing his hands behind his back but leaving his legs free. He glowered over the gag as she knelt down to stroke his calf. "I am so sorry about last night. You see, I was quite tired supervising my new slave's initiation and I simply had to get some rest. Then this morning, you were still asleep on the floor so I left you lying - I hope you are not too disappointed." Rosario slid the handcuff key a little closer to his foot so it was no longer frustratingly out of reach. "At least you did not wet the carpet. Now I simply must dash - you can free yourself I am sure. Oh by the way, Charles was looking for you and he is in one hell of a bad mood about something so best watch your step, okay?" She paused to watch his contortions as he frantically dragged the key with his toes nearer his trapped hands before he had an accident and soaked the floor. With an affectionate wave, she was gone.

Rosario dived into the pool and startled Alexa by swimming under her to surface just in front of her face. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." Alexa felt herself being pulled close for another devastating kiss that left her gasping for air. Rosario guided her across the pool then helped her up on the sandstone edge to sit with her feet dangling in the water. Alexa did not resist when her companion pushed her thighs open and moved her head closer to her nether lips. "Such a pretty little ring." She trembled when Rosario's mouth began to suck the tiny nub of pierced flesh at the top of her inner labia. "Mmm. Very nice. Lean back, little Alexa. I want to put my fingers…yes, good slave." Rosario pressed the ball of her left thumb against Alexa's anus then slid two fingers into her moist, pouting sex. The effect was incredible. When Rosario's tongue began to circle and flick her ringed clit, Alexa gasped and panted in shocked arousal. "Did you think I learned nothing at that godforsaken convent school?" Rosario grinned up at her lover's flushed face and returned to her exquisite task.

*****

"I'm not very happy about this, girl. The area's not completely cleared and the Taliban's gone to ground in these parts." Sergeant Gomez scanned the tumbledown cemetery uneasily and glanced at the stunning passenger next to him in the Hummer. "You sure you know where the grave is?"

Guljana fingered the seashell she had carried all the way from Antigua and forced herself to look at the Marine's rough face. "Yes, sar-jent Gomais, please - it will not take long times."

"Okay then. Stay in clear view and come straight back here. I wanna be on the main road before sunset." He watched the girl slowly walking towards the bullet-shattered headstones. Fuck, she was built! The military jumpsuit fitted her like a glove, the light cotton creasing and writhing as it rode inside her butt crack. Gomez wondered why the Senator had brought this one all the way back from the States - if she was his slave-bitch, he wouldn't let her out of his site. No, he'd have her naked on the end of a chain, working that sweet mouth of hers where it belonged…wrapped around the end of his dick.

There was another woman in the graveyard. Gomez watched her through the binoculars. She was just a village peasant, dressed from head to toe in the shabby rags that passed for traditional dress in this devastated corner of hell called Afghanistan. Satisfied the villager presented no obvious threat to the Senator's slave, Gomez reached for a Marlboro and settled back in the driver's seat of the Hummer to listen to the military radio for any signs of alarm.

It was so difficult to fight back the tears. Guljana clutched the beautiful seashell and threaded her way past the smashed grave markers towards the final resting place of her mother, Zahida. She knelt with head bowed low, and remembered their promise to write each other's names in the sand on the shores of America. Tiny Guljana had no idea what a beach or even a sea would look like then but she had fulfilled her side of the bargain. If her mother would never know how vast and wide an ocean was, she would bring part of the ocean to her. Whispering a tiny prayer, Guljana carefully placed the shell on the mound of rock and dust.

"Jana? It is really you? JANA?" She whirled and looked up into the incredulous face of Zia's mother. "Your clothes - you are wearing the demons' clothes! We thought you were dead, taken with my daughter by the American demons!"She couldn't dash her hopes, no matter how unreal they were. "Zia, she...we were taken to America. I don't know where she is - we were separated. I'm so sorry." The woman sank down beside her in despair. "Please, my grandfather…my home. Please, what happened after I was abducted?"

Zia's mother narrowed her eyes, staring at her in a calculating way. "Your grandfather? Why, he lives still. He is very sick but he is still alive. Your house is destroyed - bombed by the American demons along with half our village." She looked over her shoulder at the military vehicle at the cemetery gate and slyly whispered, "You wish to see your grandfather?"

"Yes! Oh please - I'll get the soldier to drive us there!" She stood up, ready to run to Sergeant Gomez with the amazing news.

"No - no demons! The shock will kill your grandfather if they come. It is not far. I will take you now. We will be quick." She began to tug at the sleeve of Guljana's jumpsuit. "Hurry, before the demon sees us!"

Guljana paused, uncertain what to do. She had promised her Senate-Master that she would not leave the sergeant's sight but she so dearly wanted to see her grandfather. It would only be for a few minutes. She would hurry back to the cemetery and everything would be all right. "Please, why are you being so kind? I thought you hated my family."

The old woman paused. "We rejoiced when the true followers of Islam rid our lands of the Soviet devils but they were nothing compared to these American demons. Shaitan rules us now and Allah punishes us by hiding His eyes. True, your mother was a witch and a whore but you are from our village even if you are a half-breed. It will have to do." She beckoned urgently. "Now COME before we are seen!"

*****

"Phew! Sometimes I wonder why we bother with men at all. If they were not needed for having children, I believe we females could do very nicely on our own." Rosario kissed the side of Alexa's head and stroked her ringed breast. She added somberly, "The men I seem to attract have so far proved untrustworthy, selfish, and unreliable...unlike most women." She smiled and lightly tapped the tip of Alexa's nose. "I think we make better relationships too - particularly when you find a lover-girl who knows exactly how to reach a certain spot!" Sitting up on the massive bed, Rosario confronted the little slave who lay outstretched in post-orgasmic abandon. "So, come on…did I do it for you too? Be truthful - I never punish honesty but I despise people that tell me what they think I want to hear."

Alexa reached up and hugged her tightly, whispering in a tiny, breathless voice, "Yes, Mistress, umm, padrona - it was wonderful but sex with my Master is wonderful too."

Instead of being in trouble for her candor, she was rewarded by laughter. "Good girl - you see? I am not a monster, am I?"

"No, Mistress. I mean, not to me…not, umm, now."

Rosario stood and pulled her flushed companion towards the bathroom. "I can, however, be an absolute BITCH when required. Come on, I need a shower and so do you, little slave. I am seeing some important people shortly and I would like you with me. But first, I want you to scrub my back."

After their shower, Alexa had helped Rosario get ready. She looked magnificent in a silver lamé dress that clung to her figure like a coat of metallic paint. Then Rosario had tenderly brushed her ward's hair until it shone before tying it into two girlish bunches with pink ribbon. She even gave Alexa a light blue Gingham dress, navy knickers, and knee length white socks to wear before taking some restraints from an ornate box on her bedside table. The dress was several sizes too big but with the chrome waist chain cinched and locked tightly above her hips, it did not look too baggy. "I really do not know why I kept my uniform, considering how I hated wearing it so much." Rosario grinned at the sight of Alexa in secure fetters over her old outfit from l'École De La Magdalene. "Maybe if you had been in my dorm, I would not have tried so hard to get expelled!" She paused and lightly brushed her ward's soft cheeks with the slightest hint of rouge. "Much better. You will fit the part perfectly," she added without further explanation.

Alexa looked very sweet and innocent in the schoolgirl's clothing, simple and uncomplicated - unlike everything else in her life. "You are so dangerous." Rosario whispered as she kissed her young lover's forehead. "It would be such an easy thing to fall madly in love with you."

She didn't feel dangerous. If anything, Alexa felt troubled and confused. This powerful, sophisticated woman was treating her with kindness and love. Was she betraying her master by responding? He'd been so hard on her lately but she didn't know why. She felt caught in the center of some conflict she couldn't understand. Could he possibly be jealous of Rosario? Surely, her beloved master knew she was totally his? Oh, everything was so confusing.

Attaching a leash to her collar, Rosario tugged her towards the door. Alexa looked down at the slim cuffs that were locked to the front of her waist chain. With a shudder, she recalled that it was exactly how they'd fettered her in the nightmare. But she was in a palatial mansion, not a harsh prison. She trotted behind the mistress of the house, lifting her feet high enough to keep the ankle chain off the floor as her first master, Stephen, had taught her. Every time she thought of him, her eyes felt moist with sadness at his passing. He'd rescued her, turned her bleak, unhappy life into one filled with wonder, excitement and love. True, a slave's life was also fraught with pain and danger but she'd never felt so alive and fulfilled. "Oh master Stephen," she thought, "I miss you so very much."

Alexa knelt next to the large chair in the reception room adjoining Rosario's office. She was tethered to the arm by a red, leather leash from her collar. Alexa looked up in awe at the young woman sitting majestically in the heavy, wooden seat. Rosario reached down and idly played with her collar, finding the exact place on Alexa's neck that made her shiver as only the left half of her body erupted in Goosebumps. Rosario leaned over and whispered, "Your master told me about your neck, little slave. Now, listen closely - do not utter a sound during this meeting. Stay very still and carefully observe our visitors. I will ask for your thoughts after they have gone."

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door then Alfonso entered. "Padrona Rosario...schiava Alexa." His greeting to both women was not lost on Rosario who tugged on the leash, prompting her ward to lower her eyes respectfully.

"Is Maria learning to please under Cesare's supervision?" Rosario crossed her long legs, revealing a glimpse of sheer silken thigh through the slit dress.

"Si, padrona." He shrugged. "She cries much. She is very sore." He tilted his head at Alexa. "Maria has much to learn from this one, I think."

Rosario threw back her head and laughed. "Not only are you a superb knifeman but you are also an excellent judge of character! Send in our guests - I think their hour-long wait has been sufficiently instructive."

When Alfonso returned, he was accompanied by two grim-faced men. One wore a somber dark grey suit and the other a uniform with medals and gold braid. Both looked at the figure kneeling at the side of Rosario's chair in astonishment. "Ah, mayor _______, such a pleasure to see you again. Tell me, how is our fair city today? Is your 'zero tolerance' policy working well? My people tell me it is business as usual for us but very inconvenient for our competitors!"

The older man frowned. "I really must protest about the delay before seeing us, Rosario, we're going be very late for our press conference! Your grandfather would have never made me wait like..."

She cut him dead with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You are only mayor with our Family's blessing. Do not forget your place and in future, you will call me Padrona. Do you understand me?"

The color in the man's face had drained away. He thought better of replying and went silent, looking fearfully in her direction.

"Bene. Nonno Marco told me you were not a stupid man. We do not keep fools on our payroll. We 'retire' them - remember this." Rosario examined the man in uniform who stood there in amazement with his mouth slightly open. "And this must be our new Chief of Police? How nice of you both to come and thank the Forte Foundation. I am sure its donation to the Police Widows and Orphans Benevolent Fund will be useful."

The uniformed man continued to stare at Alexa, eyes popping at her collar and restraints in total conflict with her schoolgirl innocence. "What in the Lord's name is going on here?" The Chief of Police pointed an accusing finger at the kneeling slave. "This...this is OBSCENE!"

The mayor muttered urgently at his morally outraged companion. "Shut up. Shut the fuck UP, for both our sakes!"

Rosario stroked Alexa's hair. "A pretty little creature, isn't she? At least she has reached the age of consent, unlike the young girl who sucked you off in the back of your church hall after choir practice last month. You do know she tried to kill herself afterwards? I am sure my good friend, the editor of the New York Times, would dearly love to receive a copy of the recording we took." She casually kicked a video cassette across the polished oak floor from beneath her chair to the stammering man's feet. "So you can lose the pious, holier-than-though bullshit with me - unless you want the world to watch you stuffing your pathetic little cock into that pre-teen's mouth and coming all over her lovely young face."

The mayor sighed. Ignoring his new Chief of Police who was stammering in shock, he tried to salvage the meeting with the future head of the Di ________ Family. "Rosar...Padrona - exactly what is the Forte Foundation? A million dollars is a very generous donation!"

Rosario turned and smiled down at a startled Alexa who stared back up in confusion. "The Forte Foundation? You are looking at her, mister mayor."

Forte…FORTE? Alexa gasped as she recognized Uncle Armando’s surname. He had been so kind when she was set loose on the streets of New York. In return, Miller had tortured and killed him. She would have covered her face and wept but the waist chain stopped her from lifting up her cuffed hands. Alexa felt her head being gently patted – Rosario had noticed her distress.

"The girl? But she's in chains!" The mayor swallowed, thinking hard. "Who is she? Is she your captive? Why is she kneeling like...like that?"

"Oh, calm down. You do not need to know her name. She belongs to a guest of mine and I am her trustee. This is all you need to know. Anyway, I thought you came here to express your appreciation. Well, gentlemen?"

Alexa gaped in stunned amazement as the Mayor and Police Chief of New York crouched down in turn to shake her cuffed hand and offer their thanks.

"Now leave us. You two have a photo call to attend. Remember to promote 'zero tolerance for organized crime', gentlemen." Watching them go, Rosario smiled down at her companion. "I think that went very well, don't you?"

Before she could think of a reply, Alexa's tummy rumbled so loudly that she forgot her tears for poor Uncle Armando and blushed with embarrassment.

"When did you last eat, Alexa?” Rosario chuckled while she untied the leash from her chair's arm.

"Umm, l-last night, mistr...padrona - the s-soup…Lucia’s s-soup!" Grief threatened to overwhelm her again.

"Goodness me! Well, you are going to the kitchens immediately. I shall feed you myself...so long as you promise not to bite!"

*****

"You bloody FOOL - do you want to get us killed? She can easily do that, you know." The mayor sighed and looked in disgust at his companion in the mayoral limousine. "I am not joking - Rosario is deadly, just like her grandfather but worse. She is smarter than Don Marco too. Jesus save us - a woman with beauty, brains, wealth, power...and a ruthless, killer instinct." The police chief stared at him, still dumbstruck after his pedophilic tastes were exposed. "She executed her own fiancé, you know. He was two-timing her for a classy attorney and Rosario found out. I heard that it was the only time anyone has seen her cry - after she blew his brains out. The lawyer disappeared - some people think she ran for her life but I reckon she ended up as pig feed at that ranch upstate they use for the runaway hookers and anyone else that's foolish enough to cross the Family." The mayor waited for a response but got none. "Damn it man, are you listening to me? I am trying to keep you alive, for Christ's sake!"

"That girl, the one in chains - I've seen her face before." The chief of the NYPD had finally found his voice.

"What in hell are you talking about, you stupid idiot?"

"The girl in chains. The one dressed like a schoolgirl, kneeling by that witch's chair. I am sure her mug shot was going around the precincts recently. I'm sure she was a missing federal witness for something big."

The mayor snorted in contempt. Why on earth had he appointed this fool for a police chief? "Look, if you don't want to end up as a smoked ham in a delicatessen in Little Italy, you'd better forget all about that girl NOW!"

*****

She could not take much more of this. Caitlin bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming in pain when she relieved herself. She would not give the bastards the pleasure of hearing her cry out. It was her only resistance, all she had left.

After the piercings came the rapes. The men used her for sex whenever they wished. Sometimes a lone guard would enter her cell, either to force her bruised thighs open or pin her face down on the thin mattress and bugger her mercilessly. She had tried pleading, begging them to stop or at least use protection. In desperation, she had mentioned the risks of pregnancy or HIV but it was useless.

One of her abusers, the thin-faced man who had forced rings through her sensitive flesh, laughed and whispered in her ear as he came inside her ravaged cunt. "Hah! You not get bay-bee - Russkies fix for us." He sat up and savagely poked the scars on either side of her abdomen where she had been injected into her ovaries. "No bay-bee you! No get AIDS you - we get fix you good fuck anytime!" He was jabbing her left arm where she had been painfully injected several times since her arrival in the cell. What did he mean - they actually had an inoculation against HIV? But that was impossible...wasn't it?

The metal door swung open to reveal the cruelly grinning face of the guard who had held her while she was pierced. He was also naked and fingering his huge erection in readiness for her violation. Caitlin's mouth went dry at the sheer size of the huge man's distended penis. It was too big - she would be injured internally! She screamed and fought but with her wrists cuffed behind her back and their overwhelming strength they handled her with ease. The larger man lay on his back while his colleague made her sit down with her anus impaled on the giant's hard erection. The huge man crushed her breasts in his large hands and arched her backwards, ignoring her agonized screams.

The man she thought of as her torturer entered her from the front, wedging her between their bodies as they raped her cunt and ass together. "You learn suck good too." Caitlin's head was twisted sideways. A third man was holding the bulbous tip of his penis against her tightly clamped lips. It was the young oriental killer from the Russian ship! "You suck boss good now or I get needles teach you obey. Dorei, wakarimasu-ka?"

She understood.

When they finished satisfying themselves, the younger man murmured something to the others who bowed to him without a word. Caitlin shuddered as he smiled down at her before leaving the cell.

She was given no time to recover. The chain from her collar hauled her up so she had to stand on tiptoe or choke. The hose and brushes were employed with more roughness than usual. Caitlin coughed and retched when the pipe that had just been up her ass was forced between her teeth to flush the semen from her mouth. The collar and fetters were removed and she crouched on the cell floor wishing she were dead. Her body and tangled hair were roughly dried with cloths then she was half-dragged, half-carried face down along the corridor up several flights of stairs.

The room they took her to was ornate and sumptuously decorated. Semi-naked oriental men, their bodies covered with tattoos, lounged on cushions. They were being served drinks and food by young girls dressed in athletics shorts and blouses. None gave Caitlin more than a glance before returning their attention to the games of dice they were playing on low tables. In the center of the room stood a large, rough wooden post as broad as a telegraph pole. They forced her closer. "Please, no! Please don't hurt me anymore! PLEASE, STOP!" Caitlin's pleas had absolutely no effect as the men dragged her closer to the pole. It had waiting metal cuffs on chains lying at the base, and similar restraints dangling from the top, attached to a winch. Midway up the pole a thin, metal bracket stuck out. She knew she would be cruelly stretched while its narrow ridge dug into her already aching private parts. "No! Oh God, NOOO!"

Their superior strength and her weakened state made it an easy task to fix her wrists and ankles in the metal cuffs. Caitlin whimpered as the winch at the top of the pole began to lift her arms above her head, making her belly press up against the end of the bracket.

Caitlin screamed in fear as the winch clicked again. Notch by notch, she was lifted clear of the floor. The end of the bracket rubbed lower until it teased the front of her waiting cunt. Fighting was useless; in fact, the bastards seemed to enjoy her helpless struggles while she dangled over the pointed ridge aimed up into her abused cleft. When they lowered her until the ridge finally made contact with her clitoris, she moaned in discomfort. Her sore breasts rubbed against the rough pole, making her writhe in agony while the fetters around her ankles were stretched down. Caitlin could only pull herself up a tiny amount to relieve the dreadful pressure on her clit but every time she settled back down again, the pain seemed worse.

"What are you going to do? Please let me down. It hurts...OH MY GOD!" The torturer came over holding what looked like a pair of shears. The razor-sharp blades were stained dark red. He reached up towards her left hand. "No, oh please, PLEASE D-DON'T!" Caitlin wailed when she realized what he was about to do. The edges began to bite on the base of her little finger. This wasn't happening. Surely, he was just trying to frighten her? They must know she was trained as a classical pianist. He really couldn't be about to...

"AAAIIIEEE!"

She would never forget the sickening noise of the blades crunching through flesh and bone, the pain like fire in her mutilated hand, the slickness of her blood running down her arm, the stench of the poker cauterizing the wound...and having to go through the same vile process with the little finger of her right hand.

They made her look at them, at her poor, dead fingers, unnaturally side-by-side on a bloodstained white handkerchief in a lacquered box. "A present for Yasov," the man said. Caitlin closed her eyes. The name meant nothing to her. All she knew was the shocking agony of her mutilated hands and the cruel pressure between her legs.

They left her to weep for a few minutes. Caitlin was roused from her world of pain by a cool, tickling sensation between her shoulders. It took her a while to work out what they were doing. They were painting something on her back. Stretched against the pole, she could barely move as a wet brush traced a curved design from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine.

At first, Caitlin feared she was about to be tattooed like the men around the room who occasionally watched her sufferings. Already reeling in shock from the damage to her hands, the thought of having things permanently etched into her skin was doubly sickening. But it couldn't hurt as much as having her fingers chopped off, could it? When she saw the smoldering brazier, the slim blades heating in the coals, and the protective leather gloves being pulled over the torturer's hands, she began to scream. She did not stop.

As they began to slice and burn the dragon’s outline into her soft, pale skin, Caitlin threw back her head and howled. Each time she passed out from pain and shock, they brought her around to experience every moment of the design's brutal creation.

The cameras pointing down from the ceiling bore silent witness to her frenzied shrieking as the blood sizzled and steamed on the glowing scalpels that carved the dragon motif into her flesh. With a satisfied smile, the young Japanese crime prince watching the monitors zoomed in for a better view of the American blonde’s agonized face. If receiving this video, together with the girl's fingers, did not provoke Yasov into retaliating, nothing would. Yasov had to respond; he could not afford to be humiliated by losing a full cargo of refined cocaine and knowing that his special, Yankee girl-toy was being publicly used by his enemies. Nobody cheats the Yakusa, he thought - the Solsnetskaya had to pay dearly for supplying the Japanese market with defective heroin. The Oyabun refused to accept it was a deliberate act of deceit, choosing instead to believe there was nothing more to it than an unfortunate mistake. The old fool was obviously no longer fit to control the clan. When the drugs war started, he would be cast aside. Some day soon, there would be a new Oyabun in charge of the Yakusa…and cheating vermin like Yasov would be wiped off the face of the earth!

Reply

Forward

Invite philip to Gmail

Rabbit1 one

to philip

More options

Jun 27 (2 days ago)

I got the amended file ---no problem ---take care of her health and I will take care of her story

- Show quoted text -

On 6/27/06, philip mackay <philmackay@talk21.com> wrote:

- Show quoted text -

Dear Rabbit1 one,

Giuseppe turned away to avoid her penetrating gaze. "I have little money, padrona. I send home my pay for the family and I cannot afford the fare."

Rosario frowned then spoke into her radio. "Alfonso? Have the Learjet ready at LaGuardia in one hour for departure to Palermo. No, not for me - it is for young Giuseppe from the stables." She turned to the gaping seventeen year-old. "Here, give me the reins. That was good work last night, by the way. For a young man, you controlled yourself very well. Now get your things and report to Alfonso."

Giuseppe sank to his knees and tried to kiss her hand, overwhelmed by his employer's compassion. "Padrona! Grazie, grazie!"

"Enough of that.  Family is everything and when you work for us, you are part of our Family too.  Next time you have a problem, you tell me - capische?  Now go.  You leave in ten minutes - RUN!"  Yes, she thought, watching the lad dash for the servants' quarters, the Family really IS everything.

Rosario patted her horse and led him to be rubbed down.  Oasis Fire was certainly ready to be entered in the Dubai endurance race but sadly, she would not be riding him.  Nonno Marco would not permit her to risk her neck, as she was the sole heir to the Family's vast financial and criminal network.  "I have lost my only son and I cannot lose my only grandchild too, my sweet Rosario.  It would break my heart and your death would start the greatest gang war for succession the world has ever seen.  It would tear our Family's empire apart."  She knew he was right even though her father's assassination meant her childhood dreams of competitive riding could never now be fulfilled.

Oasis Fire breathed on her neck as they entered the stable courtyard.  "Not this morning, boy.  I have another pony to deal with.  Tomorrow, I promise you, I will tend you personally."  The horse appeared to look reproachfully at his mistress but dutifully entered his stall.  A typical male, she thought with amusement, wanting to be the center of attraction all the time.

The occupant of the adjoining stall blinked in the sudden, harsh daylight then pressed against the concrete wall in terror when she saw who had entered. Rosario took her time, enjoying Maria's evident fear, savoring how humiliated and helpless her new slave must be feeling. The naked girl had been cruelly buckled into a stiff, leather body harness and full-head bridle. Maria's hands and feet were trapped inside hobbled pony boots and gloves that ended with dainty hooves, making her appear like a heavily restrained foal. On Rosario's explicit instructions, the inside of the broad leather strap between Maria's bruised and red-latticed thighs held two thick plugs in place that would be terribly uncomfortable reminders of her gang rape several hours earlier by most of the male staff and guards. How the girl had piteously moaned, cried and finally wailed in misery as the men queued up for their turn with the stuck-up Belgian tart, reducing her from an inexperienced virgin to a well-used whore in a single night.

Rosario had orchestrated the marathon session, choosing which equipment was used to restrain and hurt the girl, and what sexual positions were employed for maximum cruelty and violation. At one point, she had held Maria's head up by her hair while she half-hung in spreader bars over a padded bench, as one man brutally shafted her ass from behind. When Rosario forced her ring-gagged mouth towards Giuseppe's waiting cock, the look of abject misery in Maria's eyes was beyond price. It was hardly surprising that the girl was so frightened by her mere presence in the stall.

Rosario lightly tapped her red crop against the thigh of her jodhpurs.  "Trot over here, little pony, or would you prefer to be whipped again?"  Despite her restrictive fetters, Maria struggled across the straw on her hoofed hands and feet then knelt as near to her mistress as the long chain on her collar would allow.  "Good girl - now that was not so difficult, was it?"  Rosario looked down at the former maid.  Maria's back was still covered in red welts from the previous night's punishments.  Rosario raised the crop and took a pace back.  "Touch the end with your mouth shield."  Maria leaned forward until her collar chain swung clear of the stable floor and tried to press the leather base of the penis gag against the crop's tip.

But she could not get far enough forward.  Rosario moved the crop just out of reach.  "Are you being disobedient?  Do you want to be punished, slut?"  She brought the tip tantalizingly close again but not too close.  "I told you to touch the tip, slut."  With a desperate moan, Maria tried again, pulling on her collar chain so tightly that she was beginning to choke.  Whenever she almost reached the end of the crop, padrona Rosario placed it just out of range.  "Are you deliberately trying to annoy me, pony-slut?"  Maria wailed in desperation and lunged forwards, nearly throttling herself in the process.  She almost managed to touch the crop.

Almost was not good enough.

The crop whistled through the air to make contact with Maria's backside.  "I can see you still have much to learn.  Cesare?"  A white-haired older man immediately answered to the padrona's call.  He scowled down at the quivering "pony".  "I want this creature fucked hard on the hour, every hour.  No opening is to be left unused.  See that she pleases her lovers in every way and punish her severely if she fails.  No lasting injury to her body, mind.  I know how skillful you are with pain, Cesare.  Nonno Marco told me you can make the bravest man crumble without leaving a single mark."  Maria was so frightened at her words that she wet the straw.  "Dirty little pony-slut.  If you do not satisfy Cesare and his men, you will be mated with Oasis Fire.  That should sell well on our websites, I think.  A cute little ponygirl being taken from behind by a fully grown stallion - I wonder how many inches you could take."  Maria shook her bridled head in horrified disbelief.  "You are quite the little star, you know - last night's movie went online a couple of hours ago.  By the time I set off for my morning ride, it had already been downloaded nearly 4,000 times."  She ignored her ex-maid's wails of anguish and left the girl in Cesare's devastatingly capable hands.

As she strode into the lobby, Rosario noticed two things:  the marble flagstone shone immaculately, except for the trail of dirt she was leaving behind her riding boots, and that Charles was standing over his naked slave who was scrubbing the floor with a small brush and a bucket of water.

Master Charles scowled at the line of muddy footprints from the vestibule to where Rosario now stood and jerked hard on his slave's leash.  "Again!"  He brought down the split leather tawse with his other arm to add another stinging red stripe to the others on Alexa's backside.  The cruel strap lashed repeatedly, punctuating his angry words.  "You - will - clean - it - all - again - until - it - is - perfect!"

Rosario remained cool although she was surprised by his fury towards the cowering girl.  And Alexa appeared very distressed as she tried to submit to the excessive punishment.  In fact, the little slave looked confused and frightened, as though she could not understand her master's rage towards her.  Something was badly wrong.  Rosario decided to intervene and gently touched his arm to stay the next blow.  "Charles, dear - this is absolutely priceless."  Her throaty chuckle caught him off guard.  "It is so amusing to see my ward scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees like this!  Do you have any idea how wealthy our little cleaning slut is?"

"No.  Why should I care about that?"  His terse reply was loudly abrupt and echoed around the vaulted ceiling.

Rosario saw that he had not meant to be rude but that he was fighting to control his temper.  It was very out of character.  "Well, let us just say that one of her trust's smaller properties is the hotel complex that contains your Organization's New York Center on the top floors."  She smiled and absently patted Alexa's trembling head, as if she was greeting a dog.  "And to think she is cleaning my hall."  He had lowered the leather strap that obviously terrified Alexa.  Good.  "Could you spare her for the morning?  I promise to look after your little slave."

Charles almost refused but knew he had nearly lost control and was unfairly taking out his feelings of long-suppressed rage on Alexa.  It was not her fault.  He was furious with himself for not executing her a second time.  He had failed in his duty, just as he had failed to save his pregnant wife and the shame and grief followed him like a curse.  Why was the simple fact of owning a personal slave so damned complicated?  "I do not think...oh just TAKE her then!"  He thrust his slave's leash into Rosario's hand, startling both women.  "Look, Rosario, have you seen Gérard anywhere?  I tried to find him earlier and he did not answer his door."

"Ah, well that is my fault. You see, I kept the good doctor tied up most of the night." Rosario returned his puzzled glance with an enigmatic grin. "I can release him if you need him back, Charles."

"No, if Gérard is occupied on your behalf it will simply have to wait.  Just forget it."  With that, he stormed off - not even bothering to warn Alexa to obey Rosario without question.

Slave and Mistress watched him leave.  "Well!  What on earth have you done to make your master so angry with you?"  Tears spilled from the kneeling girl's eyes as she shook her head in confusion.  "Come along, little Alexa.  You are not totally mute – I know you can whisper what you did wrong."

Alexa followed the line of her leash to Rosario's hand but was unable to meet her gaze.  Her master had roughly shaken her awake in the early hours of the morning to drag her downstairs and make her clean the hall floor in Rosario's mansion.  She must have scrubbed it at least five times but he had never been satisfied, repeatedly thrashing her on her buttocks and thighs with the horrid tawse like her mother had done when she wet herself in childhood.  Her master had been furious with her but she had no idea why.  It terrified her to see him so angry and upset.  "N-not know...d-don't know, m-mistress!"  She felt cool fingers tilting her chin upwards.

"Look at me.  Good girl.  Now, you are telling me the truth?"  The tear-streaked, elfin-faced slave peered directly into her eyes and silently nodded without blinking or glancing away.  "Bene.  Well, perhaps he does not know either, little slave.  Men can be very unpredictable and highly emotional for the slightest of reasons."  Rosario's attempt at humor fell flat, the little slave obviously being too timid and upset to smile back.  "Oh, come ON girl.  I am not going to eat you...although the thought is quite tempting!  I want us to be friends."

She stroked the slave's light brown hair and framed her face in her hands, softly murmuring, "You and I are so different and yet we have so much in common."  Pulling her up by the leash, she startled Alexa by kissing her deeply on her mouth.  The effect was gratifying as the little slave staggered then swooned forwards with half-lidded eyes while their tongues danced.  The embrace lasted longer than either expected, leaving statuesque mistress and diminutive slave eying each other speculatively as they re-appraised their relationship.

"Well, then.  Time for my morning swim.  Tell me, little slave, would you like to come?"

The ambiguous question was not lost on Alexa who could still taste Rosario's sweet mouth on her own tingling lips.  Her master's unexplained temper briefly forgotten, she shyly nodded and bobbed a curtsey to the Latin beauty towering above her.

"Good.  Meet me in the smaller pool beneath the conservatory where you ate last night.  I have something to attend to first but it will only take a few minutes."

Alexa watched her leave then picked up the brush and bucket to return them to the cupboard under the staircase.  Then it hit her - she was on her own, unfettered, unrestrained, and free to go where she wished for the first time since Miller had abducted her off the streets of New York.  Master Charles had always kept her chained in public until now.  Her newfound freedom brought her no pleasure, instead she felt oddly lost and unsettled.

Rosario went up the sweeping staircase two steps at a time, peeling off her riding clothes in the long corridor and leaving them where they fell. By the time she reached the doors of her private quarters, she was completely naked. Gérard was exactly where she had left him. It was not surprising since she had chained him to the radiator, cuffing his hands behind his back but leaving his legs free. He glowered over the gag as she knelt down to stroke his calf. "I am so sorry about last night. You see, I was quite tired supervising my new slave's initiation and I simply had to get some rest. Then this morning, you were still asleep on the floor so I left you lying - I hope you are not too disappointed." Rosario slid the handcuff key a little closer to his foot so it was no longer frustratingly out of reach. "At least you did not wet the carpet. Now I simply must dash - you can free yourself I am sure. Oh by the way, Charles was looking for you and he is in one hell of a bad mood about something so best watch your step, okay?" She paused to watch his contortions as he frantically dragged the key with his toes nearer his trapped hands before he had an accident and soaked the floor. With an affectionate wave, she was gone.

Rosario dived into the pool and startled Alexa by swimming under her to surface just in front of her face. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." Alexa felt herself being pulled close for another devastating kiss that left her gasping for air. Rosario guided her across the pool then helped her up on the sandstone edge to sit with her feet dangling in the water. Alexa did not resist when her companion pushed her thighs open and moved her head closer to her nether lips. "Such a pretty little ring." She trembled when Rosario's mouth began to suck the tiny nub of pierced flesh at the top of her inner labia. "Mmm. Very nice. Lean back, little Alexa. I want to put my fingers…yes, good slave." Rosario pressed the ball of her left thumb against Alexa's anus then slid two fingers into her moist, pouting sex. The effect was incredible. When Rosario's tongue began to circle and flick her ringed clit, Alexa gasped and panted in shocked arousal. "Did you think I learned nothing at that godforsaken convent school?" Rosario grinned up at her lover's flushed face and returned to her exquisite task.

*****

"I'm not very happy about this, girl. The area's not completely cleared and the Taliban's gone to ground in these parts." Sergeant Gomez scanned the tumbledown cemetery uneasily and glanced at the stunning passenger next to him in the Hummer. "You sure you know where the grave is?"

Guljana fingered the seashell she had carried all the way from Antigua and forced herself to look at the Marine's rough face. "Yes, sar-jent Gomais, please - it will not take long times."

"Okay then. Stay in clear view and come straight back here. I wanna be on the main road before sunset." He watched the girl slowly walking towards the bullet-shattered headstones. Fuck, she was built! The military jumpsuit fitted her like a glove, the light cotton creasing and writhing as it rode inside her butt crack. Gomez wondered why the Senator had brought this one all the way back from the States - if she was his slave-bitch, he wouldn't let her out of his site. No, he'd have her naked on the end of a chain, working that sweet mouth of hers where it belonged…wrapped around the end of his dick.

There was another woman in the graveyard.  Gomez watched her through the binoculars.  She was just a village peasant, dressed from head to toe in the shabby rags that passed for traditional dress in this devastated corner of hell called Afghanistan.  Satisfied the villager presented no obvious threat to the Senator's slave, Gomez reached for a Marlboro and settled back in the driver's seat of the Hummer to listen to the military radio for any signs of alarm.

It was so difficult to fight back the tears.  Guljana clutched the beautiful seashell and threaded her way past the smashed grave markers towards the final resting place of her mother, Zahida.  She knelt with head bowed low, and remembered their promise to write each other's names in the sand on the shores of America.  Tiny Guljana had no idea what a beach or even a sea would look like then but she had fulfilled her side of the bargain.  If her mother would never know how vast and wide an ocean was, she would bring part of the ocean to her.  Whispering a tiny prayer, Guljana carefully placed the shell on the mound of rock and dust.

"Jana?  It is really you?  JANA?"  She whirled and looked up into the incredulous face of Zia's mother.  "Your clothes - you are wearing the demons' clothes!  We thought you were dead, taken with my daughter by the American demons!"  The older woman gripped her shoulder so tightly it hurt.  "My Zia - she is alive?  TELL ME!"

What could she say?  This woman had been so cruel in the village, denouncing her own mother as a witch and insulting Guljana by calling her the half-breed of a Soviet devil and a filthy whore.  But how could she tell the woman that her daughter was probably dead, cruelly raped and tortured by that horrible guard called Miller?  She couldn't dash her hopes, no matter how unreal they were.  "Zia, she...we were taken to America.  I don't know where she is - we were separated.  I'm so sorry."  The woman sank down beside her in despair.  "Please, my grandfather…my home.  Please, what happened after I was abducted?"

Zia's mother narrowed her eyes, staring at her in a calculating way.  "Your grandfather?  Why, he lives still.  He is very sick but he is still alive.  Your house is destroyed - bombed by the American demons along with half our village."  She looked over her shoulder at the military vehicle at the cemetery gate and slyly whispered, "You wish to see your grandfather?"

"Yes!  Oh please - I'll get the soldier to drive us there!"  She stood up, ready to run to Sergeant Gomez with the amazing news.

"No - no demons!  The shock will kill your grandfather if they come.  It is not far.  I will take you now.  We will be quick."  She began to tug at the sleeve of Guljana's jumpsuit.  "Hurry, before the demon sees us!"

Guljana paused, uncertain what to do.  She had promised her Senate-Master that she would not leave the sergeant's sight but she so dearly wanted to see her grandfather.  It would only be for a few minutes.  She would hurry back to the cemetery and everything would be all right.  "Please, why are you being so kind?  I thought you hated my family."

The old woman paused.  "We rejoiced when the true followers of Islam rid our lands of the Soviet devils but they were nothing compared to these American demons.  Shaitan rules us now and Allah punishes us by hiding His eyes.  True, your mother was a witch and a whore but you are from our village even if you are a half-breed.  It will have to do."  She beckoned urgently.  "Now COME before we are seen!"

*****

"Phew! Sometimes I wonder why we bother with men at all. If they were not needed for having children, I believe we females could do very nicely on our own." Rosario kissed the side of Alexa's head and stroked her ringed breast. She added somberly, "The men I seem to attract have so far proved untrustworthy, selfish, and unreliable...unlike most women." She smiled and lightly tapped the tip of Alexa's nose. "I think we make better relationships too - particularly when you find a lover-girl who knows exactly how to reach a certain spot!" Sitting up on the massive bed, Rosario confronted the little slave who lay outstretched in post-orgasmic abandon. "So, come on…did I do it for you too? Be truthful - I never punish honesty but I despise people that tell me what they think I want to hear."

Alexa reached up and hugged her tightly, whispering in a tiny, breathless voice, "Yes, Mistress, umm, padrona - it was wonderful but sex with my Master is wonderful too."

Instead of being in trouble for her candor, she was rewarded by laughter.  "Good girl - you see?  I am not a monster, am I?"

"No, Mistress.  I mean, not to me…not, umm, now."

Rosario stood and pulled her flushed companion towards the bathroom.  "I can, however, be an absolute BITCH when required.  Come on, I need a shower and so do you, little slave.  I am seeing some important people shortly and I would like you with me.  But first, I want you to scrub my back."

After their shower, Alexa had helped Rosario get ready. She looked magnificent in a silver lamé dress that clung to her figure like a coat of metallic paint. Then Rosario had tenderly brushed her ward's hair until it shone before tying it into two girlish bunches with pink ribbon. She even gave Alexa a light blue Gingham dress, navy knickers, and knee length white socks to wear before taking some restraints from an ornate box on her bedside table. The dress was several sizes too big but with the chrome waist chain cinched and locked tightly above her hips, it did not look too baggy. "I really do not know why I kept my uniform, considering how I hated wearing it so much." Rosario grinned at the sight of Alexa in secure fetters over her old outfit from l'École De La Magdalene. "Maybe if you had been in my dorm, I would not have tried so hard to get expelled!" She paused and lightly brushed her ward's soft cheeks with the slightest hint of rouge. "Much better. You will fit the part perfectly," she added without further explanation.

Alexa looked very sweet and innocent in the schoolgirl's clothing, simple and uncomplicated - unlike everything else in her life. "You are so dangerous." Rosario whispered as she kissed her young lover's forehead. "It would be such an easy thing to fall madly in love with you."

She didn't feel dangerous. If anything, Alexa felt troubled and confused. This powerful, sophisticated woman was treating her with kindness and love. Was she betraying her master by responding? He'd been so hard on her lately but she didn't know why. She felt caught in the center of some conflict she couldn't understand. Could he possibly be jealous of Rosario? Surely, her beloved master knew she was totally his? Oh, everything was so confusing.

Attaching a leash to her collar, Rosario tugged her towards the door. Alexa looked down at the slim cuffs that were locked to the front of her waist chain. With a shudder, she recalled that it was exactly how they'd fettered her in the nightmare. But she was in a palatial mansion, not a harsh prison. She trotted behind the mistress of the house, lifting her feet high enough to keep the ankle chain off the floor as her first master, Stephen, had taught her. Every time she thought of him, her eyes felt moist with sadness at his passing. He'd rescued her, turned her bleak, unhappy life into one filled with wonder, excitement and love. True, a slave's life was also fraught with pain and danger but she'd never felt so alive and fulfilled. "Oh master Stephen," she thought, "I miss you so very much."

Alexa knelt next to the large chair in the reception room adjoining Rosario's office.  She was tethered to the arm by a red, leather leash from her collar.  Alexa looked up in awe at the young woman sitting majestically in the heavy, wooden seat.  Rosario reached down and idly played with her collar, finding the exact place on Alexa's neck that made her shiver as only the left half of her body erupted in Goosebumps.  Rosario leaned over and whispered, "Your master told me about your neck, little slave.  Now, listen closely - do not utter a sound during this meeting.  Stay very still and carefully observe our visitors.  I will ask for your thoughts after they have gone."

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door then Alfonso entered.  "Padrona Rosario...schiava Alexa."  His greeting to both women was not lost on Rosario who tugged on the leash, prompting her ward to lower her eyes respectfully.

"Is Maria learning to please under Cesare's supervision?"  Rosario crossed her long legs, revealing a glimpse of sheer silken thigh through the slit dress.

"Si, padrona."  He shrugged.  "She cries much.  She is very sore."  He tilted his head at Alexa.  "Maria has much to learn from this one, I think."

Rosario threw back her head and laughed.  "Not only are you a superb knifeman but you are also an excellent judge of character!  Send in our guests - I think their hour-long wait has been sufficiently instructive."

When Alfonso returned, he was accompanied by two grim-faced men.  One wore a somber dark grey suit and the other a uniform with medals and gold braid.  Both looked at the figure kneeling at the side of Rosario's chair in astonishment.  "Ah, mayor _______, such a pleasure to see you again.  Tell me, how is our fair city today?  Is your 'zero tolerance' policy working well?  My people tell me it is business as usual for us but very inconvenient for our competitors!"

The older man frowned.  "I really must protest about the delay before seeing us, Rosario, we're going be very late for our press conference!  Your grandfather would have never made me wait like..."

She cut him dead with a dismissive wave of her hand.  "You are only mayor with our Family's blessing.  Do not forget your place and in future, you will call me Padrona.  Do you understand me?"

The color in the man's face had drained away.  He thought better of replying and went silent, looking fearfully in her direction.

"Bene.  Nonno Marco told me you were not a stupid man.  We do not keep fools on our payroll.  We 'retire' them - remember this."  Rosario examined the man in uniform who stood there in amazement with his mouth slightly open.  "And this must be our new Chief of Police?  How nice of you both to come and thank the Forte Foundation.  I am sure its donation to the Police Widows and Orphans Benevolent Fund will be useful."

The uniformed man continued to stare at Alexa, eyes popping at her collar and restraints in total conflict with her schoolgirl innocence.  "What in the Lord's name is going on here?"  The Chief of Police pointed an accusing finger at the kneeling slave.  "This...this is OBSCENE!"

The mayor muttered urgently at his morally outraged companion.  "Shut up.  Shut the fuck UP, for both our sakes!"

Rosario stroked Alexa's hair. "A pretty little creature, isn't she? At least she has reached the age of consent, unlike the young girl who sucked you off in the back of your church hall after choir practice last month. You do know she tried to kill herself afterwards? I am sure my good friend, the editor of the New York Times, would dearly love to receive a copy of the recording we took." She casually kicked a video cassette across the polished oak floor from beneath her chair to the stammering man's feet. "So you can lose the pious, holier-than-though bullshit with me - unless you want the world to watch you stuffing your pathetic little cock into that pre-teen's mouth and coming all over her lovely young face."

The mayor sighed. Ignoring his new Chief of Police who was stammering in shock, he tried to salvage the meeting with the future head of the Di ________ Family. "Rosar...Padrona - exactly what is the Forte Foundation? A million dollars is a very generous donation!"

Rosario turned and smiled down at a startled Alexa who stared back up in confusion. "The Forte Foundation? You are looking at her, mister mayor."

Forte…FORTE? Alexa gasped as she recognized Uncle Armando's surname. He had been so kind when she was set loose on the streets of New York. In return, Miller had tortured and killed him. She would have covered her face and wept but the waist chain stopped her from lifting up her cuffed hands. Alexa felt her head being gently patted – Rosario had noticed her distress.

"The girl?  But she's in chains!"  The mayor swallowed, thinking hard.  "Who is she?  Is she your captive?  Why is she kneeling like...like that?"

"Oh, calm down.  You do not need to know her name.  She belongs to a guest of mine and I am her trustee.  This is all you need to know.  Anyway, I thought you came here to express your appreciation.  Well, gentlemen?"

Alexa gaped in stunned amazement as the Mayor and Police Chief of New York crouched down in turn to shake her cuffed hand and offer their thanks.

"Now leave us.  You two have a photo call to attend.  Remember to promote 'zero tolerance for organized crime', gentlemen."  Watching them go, Rosario smiled down at her companion.  "I think that went very well, don't you?"

Before she could think of a reply, Alexa's tummy rumbled so loudly that she forgot her tears for poor Uncle Armando and blushed with embarrassment.

"When did you last eat, Alexa?" Rosario chuckled while she untied the leash from her chair's arm.

"Umm, l-last night, mistr...padrona - the s-soup…Lucia's s-soup!" Grief threatened to overwhelm her again.

"Goodness me! Well, you are going to the kitchens immediately. I shall feed you myself...so long as you promise not to bite!"

*****

"You bloody FOOL - do you want to get us killed? She can easily do that, you know." The mayor sighed and looked in disgust at his companion in the mayoral limousine. "I am not joking - Rosario is deadly, just like her grandfather but worse. She is smarter than Don Marco too. Jesus save us - a woman with beauty, brains, wealth, power...and a ruthless, killer instinct." The police chief stared at him, still dumbstruck after his pedophilic tastes were exposed. "She executed her own fiancé, you know. He was two-timing her for a classy attorney and Rosario found out. I heard that it was the only time anyone has seen her cry - after she blew his brains out. The lawyer disappeared - some people think she ran for her life but I reckon she ended up as pig feed at that ranch upstate they use for the runaway hookers and anyone else that's foolish enough to cross the Family." The mayor waited for a response but got none. "Damn it man, are you listening to me? I am trying to keep you alive, for Christ's sake!"

"That girl, the one in chains - I've seen her face before." The chief of the NYPD had finally found his voice.

"What in hell are you talking about, you stupid idiot?"

"The girl in chains. The one dressed like a schoolgirl, kneeling by that witch's chair. I am sure her mug shot was going around the precincts recently. I'm sure she was a missing federal witness for something big."

The mayor snorted in contempt. Why on earth had he appointed this fool for a police chief? "Look, if you don't want to end up as a smoked ham in a delicatessen in Little Italy, you'd better forget all about that girl NOW!"

*****

She could not take much more of this. Caitlin bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming in pain when she relieved herself. She would not give the bastards the pleasure of hearing her cry out. It was her only resistance, all she had left.

After the piercings came the rapes. The men used her for sex whenever they wished. Sometimes a lone guard would enter her cell, either to force her bruised thighs open or pin her face down on the thin mattress and bugger her mercilessly. She had tried pleading, begging them to stop or at least use protection. In desperation, she had mentioned the risks of pregnancy or HIV but it was useless.

One of her abusers, the thin-faced man who had forced rings through her sensitive flesh, laughed and whispered in her ear as he came inside her ravaged cunt. "Hah! You not get bay-bee - Russkies fix for us." He sat up and savagely poked the scars on either side of her abdomen where she had been injected into her ovaries. "No bay-bee you! No get AIDS you - we get fix you good fuck anytime!" He was jabbing her left arm where she had been painfully injected several times since her arrival in the cell. What did he mean - they actually had an inoculation against HIV? But that was impossible...wasn't it?

The metal door swung open to reveal the cruelly grinning face of the guard who had held her while she was pierced.  He was also naked and fingering his huge erection in readiness for her violation.  Caitlin's mouth went dry at the sheer size of the huge man's distended penis.  It was too big - she would be injured internally!  She screamed and fought but with her wrists cuffed behind her back and their overwhelming strength they handled her with ease.  The larger man lay on his back while his colleague made her sit down with her anus impaled on the giant's hard erection.  The huge man crushed her breasts in his large hands and arched her backwards, ignoring her agonized screams.

The man she thought of as her torturer entered her from the front, wedging her between their bodies as they raped her cunt and ass together.  "You learn suck good too."  Caitlin's head was twisted sideways.  A third man was holding the bulbous tip of his penis against her tightly clamped lips.  It was the young oriental killer from the Russian ship!  "You suck boss good now or I get needles teach you obey.  Dorei, wakarimasu-ka?"

She understood.

When they finished satisfying themselves, the younger man murmured something to the others who bowed to him without a word.  Caitlin shuddered as he smiled down at her before leaving the cell.

She was given no time to recover.  The chain from her collar hauled her up so she had to stand on tiptoe or choke.  The hose and brushes were employed with more roughness than usual.  Caitlin coughed and retched when the pipe that had just been up her ass was forced between her teeth to flush the semen from her mouth.  The collar and fetters were removed and she crouched on the cell floor wishing she were dead.  Her body and tangled hair were roughly dried with cloths then she was half-dragged, half-carried face down along the corridor up several flights of stairs.

The room they took her to was ornate and sumptuously decorated.  Semi-naked oriental men, their bodies covered with tattoos, lounged on cushions.  They were being served drinks and food by young girls dressed in athletics shorts and blouses.  None gave Caitlin more than a glance before returning their attention to the games of dice they were playing on low tables.  In the center of the room stood a large, rough wooden post as broad as a telegraph pole.  They forced her closer.  "Please, no!  Please don't hurt me anymore!  PLEASE, STOP!"  Caitlin's pleas had absolutely no effect as the men dragged her closer to the pole.  It had waiting metal cuffs on chains lying at the base, and similar restraints dangling from the top, attached to a winch.  Midway up the pole a thin, metal bracket stuck out.  She knew she would be cruelly stretched while its narrow ridge dug into her already aching private parts.  "No!  Oh God, NOOO!"

Their superior strength and her weakened state made it an easy task to fix her wrists and ankles in the metal cuffs.  Caitlin whimpered as the winch at the top of the pole began to lift her arms above her head, making her belly press up against the end of the bracket.

Caitlin screamed in fear as the winch clicked again.  Notch by notch, she was lifted clear of the floor.  The end of the bracket rubbed lower until it teased the front of her waiting cunt.  Fighting was useless; in fact, the bastards seemed to enjoy her helpless struggles while she dangled over the pointed ridge aimed up into her abused cleft.  When they lowered her until the ridge finally made contact with her clitoris, she moaned in discomfort.  Her sore breasts rubbed against the rough pole, making her writhe in agony while the fetters around her ankles were stretched down.  Caitlin could only pull herself up a tiny amount to relieve the dreadful pressure on her clit but every time she settled back down again, the pain seemed worse.

"What are you going to do?  Please let me down.  It hurts...OH MY GOD!"  The torturer came over holding what looked like a pair of shears.  The razor-sharp blades were stained dark red.  He reached up towards her left hand.  "No, oh please, PLEASE D-DON'T!"  Caitlin wailed when she realized what he was about to do.  The edges began to bite on the base of her little finger.  This wasn't happening.  Surely, he was just trying to frighten her?  They must know she was trained as a classical pianist.  He really couldn't be about to...

"AAAIIIEEE!"

She would never forget the sickening noise of the blades crunching through flesh and bone, the pain like fire in her mutilated hand, the slickness of her blood running down her arm, the stench of the poker cauterizing the wound...and having to go through the same vile process with the little finger of her right hand.

They made her look at them, at her poor, dead fingers, unnaturally side-by-side on a bloodstained white handkerchief in a lacquered box.  "A present for Yasov," the man said.  Caitlin closed her eyes.  The name meant nothing to her.  All she knew was the shocking agony of her mutilated hands and the cruel pressure between her legs.

They left her to weep for a few minutes.  Caitlin was roused from her world of pain by a cool, tickling sensation between her shoulders.  It took her a while to work out what they were doing.  They were painting something on her back.  Stretched against the pole, she could barely move as a wet brush traced a curved design from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine.

At first, Caitlin feared she was about to be tattooed like the men around the room who occasionally watched her sufferings.  Already reeling in shock from the damage to her hands, the thought of having things permanently etched into her skin was doubly sickening.  But it couldn't hurt as much as having her fingers chopped off, could it?  When she saw the smoldering brazier, the slim blades heating in the coals, and the protective leather gloves being pulled over the torturer's hands, she began to scream.  She did not stop.

As they began to slice and burn the dragon's outline into her soft, pale skin, Caitlin threw back her head and howled. Each time she passed out from pain and shock, they brought her around to experience every moment of the design's brutal creation.

The cameras pointing down from the ceiling bore silent witness to her frenzied shrieking as the blood sizzled and steamed on the glowing scalpels that carved the dragon motif into her flesh. With a satisfied smile, the young Japanese crime prince watching the monitors zoomed in for a better view of the American blonde's agonized face. If receiving this video, together with the girl's fingers, did not provoke Yasov into retaliating, nothing would. Yasov had to respond; he could not afford to be humiliated by losing a full cargo of refined cocaine and knowing that his special, Yankee girl-toy was being publicly used by his enemies. Nobody cheats the Yakusa, he thought - the Solsnetskaya had to pay dearly for supplying the Japanese market with defective heroin. The Oyabun refused to accept it was a deliberate act of deceit, choosing instead to believe there was nothing more to it than an unfortunate mistake. The old fool was obviously no longer fit to control the clan. When the drugs war started, he would be cast aside. Some day soon, there would be a new Oyabun in charge of the Yakusa…and cheating vermin like Yasov would be wiped off the face of the earth!