by Jesse Jordan
“A civil war?” I ask, and Rodrigo laughs. “What?”
“Wars within The Network are hardly civil, although I thought about it in the same terms. I was hoping to neutralize The Sultan through manipulation of the other capos, but The Sultan... well, Larissa says that The Sultan claims to have information that makes me look bad. She suspects that he's going to use that to either derail my promotion or worse. I'm pretty sure he'll be coming for my head, especially after what I did to Leon. If that happens, there's going to be blood on one side or another,” Rodrigo says softly as we come to a stop at a traffic light. “If that's the case Jessica, I need to know two things. One, that you can handle yourself. Second, that if shit does hit the fan and I buy the fucking farm, that you'll be able to keep yourself safe. Larissa likes you, she told me herself, but I can't be sure she'll be able to protect you if The Sultan kills me. I need to know that you'd be able to get out, to get to safety, even if it's just to the American consulate in Palermo.”
The traffic light changes, and we turn right onto the road that heads back towards Caccamo. Rodrigo waits for me to respond, and it takes me a minute. “So today was just a test, not a day out together?”
“It was both,” Rodrigo replies. “Jessica, I enjoyed walking on the sand with you, eating that sundae, and I'm looking forward to seeing you open up your present. But yes, I wanted to make sure that you can still get along in public if you need to. I couldn't be sure you hadn't turned into some sort of agoraphobe over the past few months. Keeping you cooped up makes you a liability, not an asset. And you can be the most valuable asset I have.”
“Asset,” I whisper, looking down. Just an asset... nothing more. It hurts.
Rodrigo glances over, saying nothing as we drive the twenty minutes back towards Caccamo, pulling off the paved road and heading back towards the villa. We left the villa gate open leaving this morning, and Rodrigo pulls in, hopping out and closing it behind us before getting in and clearing his throat. “There's something more I want to ask you.”
“What?” I ask, looking over, my hands twisting in my lap.
“I fully expect to win against The Sultan. I have a few aces in the hole that he won't expect or can prepare for,” Rodrigo says. “But if it doesn't, I might have to run. That could take me anywhere in the world. Jessica... if that happens, I want you with me.”
“With you, Master?” I ask, confused. “You mean?”
“I mean that I need to know if you want to come to America with me. Jessica, I know that I'm not the sort to be lovey-dovey like you mentioned, but I have never broken my word to you. I have taken care of you, and I swear I will always take care of you, but to continue to do so, I may have to ask you to do things that I didn't want to. Some of those skills that I said you'd never have to learn... I may have to ask you to learn.”
“And if I say no?” I ask.
Rodrigo looks disappointed, and looks at me with something in his eyes that I hope I'm not just imagining. “I'd be very deeply hurt. But if you insisted, I would free you, or if you want you'd stay here as my housekeeper. You'd be cared for either way. But you'd be better to me by my side.”
I look into Rodrigo's dark eyes, and I wonder if I'm seeing something there that is just my imagination, or is there something more. Finally, I clear my throat and look at him. “Are you asking as Rodrigo, or as Master? Do I have a choice?”
Rodrigo gives me a relieved smile, shaking his head. I think he was worried I'd demand my freedom. “Oh my beautiful Jessica, you've always had a choice. Each and every day, from the first time you called me Master, the choice has always been yours. Each day you've stayed since I didn't lock you in, you've made a choice. Since then, there's been a hundred times you could have slipped a kitchen knife between my ribs, and in the past week you could have shot me a dozen times over. So yes, you have a choice. You always have... and with me, you always will.”
Rodrigo gets out of the truck, closing the door and heading towards the steps to the villa. My mind whirls, and suddenly I'm out of the passenger side of the truck, slamming the door and running up to him. “Master.... Rodrigo, wait!”
Rodrigo stops, turning on the third step from the top, his face clear and bright and I make my choice. It's not that hard, when I think about it. “Yes, Jessica?”
“I know my choice, but I need something from you,” I say, reaching up and taking his hand. “I need.... I need to know that I'm strong enough.”
“And how would you like me to show you how strong you are?” he asks, turning the rest of the way around and sitting down on the steps so that we're eye to eye. “I know you are, but you have something else on your mind.”
I nod, pointing towards the warehouse. “Master, I need to be pushed further than you've ever pushed me before. You told me, and I believe it. In my weakness, my submission, I've found strength that I never knew existed inside me. But I need more. I need to know... I want you to push me all the way to the edge.”
Rodrigo's face grows very grave, and he studies me. “You realize what that means, right? The risks can be very high. No limits, no safe words... I don't do edge 'play' like most people think of it. If we do this, we walk a very dangerous tightrope with no net.”
I nod, squeezing his fingers. “I know Master. But that's something else that I've discovered in our time together, in our training. You said today that if you ordered me to, I'd have jumped into those tidal pools with a big rock in my arms. There's a reason why I would. Because I'm one hundred percent confident that if I step off, that somehow, some way, you'd catch me and save me before I drown. I trust you with my very life Master. So... let's walk that tightrope. I know you won't let me fall.”
Rodrigo nods, reaching for and stroking my collar. “You are a one of a kind woman, Jessica. Let's go.”
My fingers tremble as Master ties the silk rope around my left knee, bringing it to my neck, his eyes dark and dangerous. I'm sitting up now, but that won't be for long, once he rolls me back. I bend my head forward, and feel a moment of shock and loss when Master undoes my collar, and I whimper.
“I don't want this damaged,” he explains as he sets it aside. “You'll get it back afterwards. Keep your head down.”
I take a deep breath and lower my head, feeling the rope go behind my neck before Master draws it across my throat, wrapping me fully before tying my right knee. There's a little space, but not much, a quarter to half inch at most, and as Master rolls me onto my back, that space is eliminated. I pull on my knees with my hands to try and give myself some more help, but Master grabs my right hand and pulls it free, pinning it to the bed before tying it off with the scarf that he's already secured before doing the same with my left. I'm trapped, totally and completely helpless in a rig that can easily kill me, with no safe word.
If I don't keep perfect control of my back and my already stretched hips, the fact is that I'm going to choke myself to death. The only other release I have is if Master cuts the cord, freeing me as I can't free myself. Some people, most people would say that I'm insane, but they don't see what I see as Master looks into my eyes, the feelings that echo my own desire. “One more thing, and then we can start your pleasure.”
“Yes Master,” I whisper, swallowing away my fear, which is melting as Master caresses my face. “I'm yours.”
Master goes and comes back with the blindfold, slipping it over my eyes. I'm immediately plunged into darkness, not able to even anticipate what Master's going to do. I have to submit, to find my strength in this weak position, and Master will help me.
The first thing I feel is tickling, the gentle caress of Master's feather tickler on my toes and feet, making me giggle, the torture continuing up the back of my legs and then over my exposed ass and pussy. The first feather light stroke over my pussy sends heat through me, and I lick my lips, wanting more. “Mmmm... Master, I love it.”
“Just wait,” Master whispers, his voice trembling as he continues the soft assault on my pussy. I'm quickly gasping, groaning as he
strokes over my legs and pussy with the tickler, not enough to bring me close to coming but just leaking, my juices dribbling from my sopping wet slit to drip down my ass. “I wonder how long I can keep you here. Two hours? Four? A day?”
“As long as you want, Master,” I moan, knowing that it's not true but not caring. The truth is what I say next. “I'm yours.”
The tickling stops and I feel Master's lips kiss my pussy, sending a hot jolt through my body as his tongue snakes deep into me, licking my wet walls before he flicks his tongue over my clit. My hips jerk, and all the slack in my neck disappears for an instant, cutting off my breath and and I have to force myself to focus, pulling my legs back more. The pressure lets up, but not a lot, and I'm reminded of the danger of this.
Master stops though, and the next thing I feel is his finger sliding underneath the cord around my neck, loosening the wrap before withdrawing. “Next time I won't be so kind.”
“I... I know Master,” I whisper, my chest burning as the muscles combine with the heat inside me and the emotions that are flooding me. Master gets off the bed and silently disappears, but I hear something scrape off the wood of the toy shelf, and then a whirring sound I've never heard before. It's cyclical, throbbing, and even hearing it fills me with desire and with dread. “Master?”
“Trust,” he rumbles, and I feel the cool touch of metal on my pussy. The device, it's obviously some sort of vibrator, throbs again, pain and pleasure both coming from the device. I realize what it is, an electrical stimulator, and my heart clenches in fear and wanton need. I've never felt one of these, just heard of them. I didn't even know Master had one in here, this is the only room I don't clean in the villa. “Open your ass.”
The stimulator slides in, I'm so wet that even my ass is soaked, and the first deep electrical throb as it slides in before my ass clenches around the neck of the butt plug has my eyes rolling back in my head behind my blindfold. “Master....”
“Now for me,” he says, and I feel his hands on my knees. My Master, the man who has taken me to places I would have never imagined, and he's taking care of me, holding my knees safely while his thick cock slides into me, filling me in both holes. It's wonderful, perfect, and my body, heart and soul cry out in joy as Master leans in and kisses me, our tongues stroking each other even as Master's hips pull back and he drives his cock into me. I'm still helpless, all I want to do is touch his face, to stroke his back, but I can't, and it breaks my heart.
What happens next I didn't think was possible. Sadness, pain, joy and pleasure all combine as Master fucks me, his cock filling me over and over again. The emotions build with the sensations, my body wracked with spasms even before I'm close to coming, and behind my blindfold I'm crying, sobbing uncontrollably as Master drives me further than I've ever been before. Fear drops away, I don't care if I die right now, I have my Master, I am strong, and I am complete.
The first trembles of my body reaching its limit start in my pussy, which clenches and squeezes Master's throbbing cock even as his breath speeds up and he begins to grunt while he fucks me harder and harder.
“Mine... mine... mine,” he grunts in between strokes, my pussy overloaded and my body starting to shut down. I'm going to come, I know it, and then I explode, his words echoing in my head as blackness overwhelms me. I go... somewhere else, I don't know where, but in this place I feel pure strength, pure happiness... and an emotion that I didn't think would ever exist, not for someone like me. I'm dimly aware of Master groaning and his coming, but I'm unable to do much more than breathe.
I know I'm alive. That I can be sure of, but I can't be sure of much else as the light takes over and I lose all track of time. I'm totally out of control, but at the same time I'm fine with it, I know that Master has me.
In this warm, light space, I think about him. My Master, my Rodrigo. He talked about The Sultan, and we've mentioned the idea of him becoming capo. The fact is... I don't want to lose him. It's not just the sex.
Glad you finally came to that fucking realization.
I wondered when you were going to show up. Have you been here the whole time?
I've been here your whole life. The part that sucks is that I kinda only get to watch and feel the sex secondhand. Not nice, you greedy bitch.
So... just what the fuck are you, anyway? My conscience?
Do I sound like Jiminy Cricket? No. I'm the woman you want to be.
Then why have I only started hearing you since I came to this house?
For years you ignored me, so I had to talk to you subtly. Now you're listening. Pretty soon though, there won't be anything to listen to.
Because we're going to be the same woman.
Exactly. And they say talking to yourself is the sign of a crazy person.
If I am crazy... I like this crazy. So why can I still hear you now?
Because there's one more level that you need to get through. You need to admit how you feel about Rodrigo. To him.
Master? I want to go with him. I want to stay by his side forever. If that means going to the USA and being a slave under a fake name.... well, Jessica Prince had a pretty good run. I'm more than that now.
Sounds like a lot of talk to describe something that can be summed up in one word. Let's summarize, you've admitted that you want to honor, to obey him, good times, bad.... see where I'm going here?
Yeah. I do. But I can't say it without knowing if he wants me to go with him. If he asks me... I'll follow him to the ninth circle of hell if he asks me.
I'm pretty damn sure he feels the same way about you. But that's cool. When you get here, I'll be waiting. In the meantime... keep him safe. I want my chance to be with him fully too, you know. Wonder how he feels about candle wax?
Kinky little slut, aren't you?
Yes we are.
Rodrigo
“Zio, Nikolai, it was surprising to get your call this morning. Especially to meet both of you at your villa, Nikolai,” I say, my mind mostly here, but part of me back at home, wanting to take care of Jessica. After last night, the intense convulsions she went into after we were done, she needs recovery, and to be pulled away to deal with Network politics is not what I want. It wasn't the lack of blood either, I watched her neck and checked in afterwards, there were no rope marks there. She just.... she was pushed to her limits. It was only after midnight that I felt she was safe and held her the rest of the night, her head cradled in my lap in bed.
“Considering what we've heard, Rodrigo, I felt it important to take the risk,” Rachmaninoff says, his voice guarded but still more trusting of me than not. My work is paying dividends in that regard at least. “The Sultan says he has evidence that you've been backstabbing him.”
“If he has it, let him present it,” I reply. “I think he's just still frustrated that I took out his bitch boy so easily. Makes me wonder if perhaps Leon was doing more than errands for Al Gazi.”
Scoglitti chuckles, still my supporter. He's old school to the core, and for him, the idea of The Sultan fucking Leon fits right in with his prejudices, and he's got a lot of them. Me personally, I don't care who The Sultan fucks, but it helps keep them on my side. “It would fit, wouldn't it? But on a more serious note Rodrigo, the timing of the issues between you and The Sultan could not have come at a worse time. Europe is going through political upheaval, even North America is transitioning, and Asia... well, it is my opinion that market's going to be quite difficult in the next decade. The Chinese always respond to problems by cutting themselves off, erecting walls. The Japs are going to implode, and the Koreans... those fucks have always been crazy.”
“It doesn't matter,” Rachmaninoff says, chuckling. “There's a very old Russian mob proverb. The bad wolf gets fat in winter, and lean in summer.”
“I don't understand, Nikolai,” I interject, sitting forward. It could pay to butter up Rachmaninoff a little right now, and besides, he's a good story teller. “Explain please?”
Nikolai sips his coffee and brushes a speck of dust of
f the lapel of his suit coat before stroking his beard. “Russian history, Rodrigo. During the Revolution, millions died, the czar fell, and men like us thrived, taking the reins of power. We gained a tighter hold during Stalin's purges. And after the Soviets fell, we worked behind the scenes, and look what we have now? I could have nearly anything I want in Russia, and I do. Rodrigo, men in our profession do best when things look like shit. All this upheaval that my friend Scoglitti mentions, I see them as opportunities. Opportunities for men like us to work our way into the back rooms of power. Where we make mistakes is when we start trying to step out of the winter's shadows and into the summer's light, to legitimize our power. Who the fuck needs legitimacy? Legitimacy is what got Gorby out on his ass and Anastasia with a bullet in her fucking head. Give me illegitimate power any day of the week.”
It's chilling, but there's a sense of logic to what Rachmaninoff says. It's not that hard to force a smile, even if I think he's wrong. “Thank you for the lesson, Nikolai.”
“I will politely disagree with my friend,” Scoglitti says, chuckling. “The Soviet Union fell in seventy years. Rome lasted a millenia. But this is an argument that the two of us have had that stretches back what, nearly twenty years now Nikolai?”
“Something like that. I doubt we'll ever see eye to eye on it. Still, I do agree with you that this internal matter with The Sultan is not a good one.”