Bend: A Dark Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “No.” He frowned at me. “I’m going to have to tie your hands and gag you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “You know that I do. If you start screaming, that could be a problem. I won’t be long.”

  I sighed. “Fine. Okay.”

  “Good.” He gathered my plate, took my mug, and then left. He came back a few minutes later with the bandanna and rope again.

  I turned my back and put my wrists where he could tie them easily. He wrapped the rope around, gentler this time, though still firm. I could feel his breath on my neck as he worked.

  He came around the front of me when he was finished. I felt so exposed and vulnerable with my hands tied behind my back and my heart was pounding in my chest as I looked at him. He smiled at me, a cocky grin.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “I think I know. You’re thinking about how you’d love it if I turned you around, put your sweet, wet pussy in the air, and fucked you with your hands still tied.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head, eyes wide. But the truth was, that was exactly what I wanted. It was insane, but my pussy was practically aching for it, and hearing the words come out of his mouth just drove me absolutely wild.

  “Open your mouth,” he commanded.

  I obeyed without thinking. He smiled and put his thumb between my lips. I closed it as he slowly slid it back out. I could have bitten down, but my pussy was dripping wet and desire ran through me in waves. Our eyes were locked together.

  “Open again,” he said.

  I opened again. He placed the bandanna between my lips and tied it off. “Be good,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”

  I watched him leave the room, frustration coursing through me. I wanted him to turn around and do what he said he’d do. I wanted him to press me down and fuck me rough, make me feel good, make me feel something.

  Instead, the door shut and locked behind him.

  Chapter 8

  Dante

  I couldn’t get Jodie out of my head as I drove across the city, heading toward Gennaro’s place. He ran a strip joint in the very south part of the city, out by the stadiums, and he did a nice little business down there. That south area was his main turf and he controlled the drugs and the hookers that moved through there, plus everything else you could imagine. It was his own little kingdom down there and the Gotti Family let him do what he wanted.

  Gennaro didn’t seem very interested in meeting with me, but I was persistent. I didn’t trust Drago and didn’t believe that he was giving me the right information, and so I needed to go right to Gennaro to confirm. Otherwise, I could keep getting fed shit from assholes like Drago, and never get rid of the girl.

  If I still wanted to get rid of her. There was a strange feeling in my stomach when I imagined handing her over to Gennaro that wasn’t there just a day ago. Now that I knew what he wanted from her, or at least what Drago said he wanted from her, I suddenly didn’t want to hand her over.

  The girl was an Irish bitch, that was true, and the Irish were our enemies. Especially the fucking Walsh clan. But she didn’t seem like a Walsh and she clearly had no clue what her family had done over the years. She was innocent and naïve and fucking gorgeous, and I had no interest in hurting her at all.

  But it wasn’t up to me. That was the fucking problem.

  I pulled up outside of Gennaro’s place, a classy joint called Kitties. Based on the lack of windows, the pace was clearly a strip joint, and nobody would ever mistake it for a place that sold kittens or some shit. I climbed out of my car and walked up to the door, pushing it open.

  The place was pretty empty, which wasn’t surprising for noon. The girl that was dancing was grinding half-heartedly up against a pole, barely trying at all, her tits out and a lit cigarette in her hand. It was one of the saddest fucking things I’d ever seen, but I wasn’t there to feel bad for strippers. I bypassed the bar and went straight to the back of the club.

  Gennaro’s office door was closed, so I knocked and I waited. A few minutes later, the door slowly opened, and Gennaro let me inside.

  “Dante,” he said. “My favorite soldier.”

  “Gennaro.” I sat down in a chair in front of his desk as he positioned himself and grinned at me.

  “What did you need to meet with me so badly about? I’m a busy man, you know that.”

  “Looks pretty busy out there.”

  He laughed. “You know damn well that isn’t my real business.”

  “Sex slavery is though, apparently.”

  His smile never wavered, the snake. “Is that what you’re here about, the girl?”

  “I don’t want anything to do with her.”

  “Too late for that.”

  “Not too late. Find someone else to do your dirty work for you.”

  “Why would I do that? You’re doing such a nice job at it.”

  “What’s your end game here?”

  He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He was wearing an old white wife beater and a heavy gold chain, and his salt and pepper body hair poked out around the edges.

  “You know Dante, this whole drugs and whores thing can’t last. There’s new competition every day and that shit is undercutting me at every turn. Do you know what a race to the bottom is?”

  “I can guess,” I said, but I knew he was going to explain anyway.

  “A race to the bottom is where the participants all try and undersell everyone else until everyone is forced to sell at the cheapest possible price point. Everyone races to the bottom and everyone gets screwed.”

  “I’m not here for an economics lesson.”

  “Yes, you are.” He sighed and shook his head. “You young guys think it’s all about shooting guns and fucking women. Really, this shit is a business. We need new territory, but that won’t happen because the city is at a standstill. So we need a new market to expand into instead.”

  “Which is where sex slaves come in.”

  “More or less. They’re just temporary, really. A short-term solution to a long-term problem. They’re the race to the bottom. Cheap as fuck, since they’re free, and disposable too. I figure I’ll start with girls like Jodie, pretty and worth the investment, and slowly transition to women that are a little more weathered.”

  A chill ran down my spine listening to him talk. He was talking about Jodie and these girls like they were fucking products or some shit for him to sell and then throw away when they got too used up. He genuinely seemed to think that forcing humans into sex slavery was a great idea, at least from a business perspective.

  It was pretty fucked up, to be honest. I did some fucked up things myself over the years working for the mafia, but this attitude of Gennaro’s was unbelievable. It was like he forgot that these were people and only cared about how much money they could make for him.

  I wasn’t sure if I would have felt this way if Jodie hadn’t gotten forced on me, though. I could see how men like Gennaro could rationalize it all away if they never met the girls or talked to them. Part of me was afraid that I was that kind of man, too, the kind of man that could do bad things because he could turn a blind eye to the suffering he was clearly causing.

  “So you really want me to make this girl more . . . complaint?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “That’s exactly what I want. I assume Drago told you all this already.”

  “I don’t exactly trust Drago.”

  “Fair enough. Drago can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” He laughed and shifted in his seat, crossing his legs ankle-over-knee. “I don’t care what you have to do, but I want you to break this girl. Make her willing to follow the rules, and make her understand that if she doesn’t, we’ll toss her aside like trash.”

  I clenched my jaw and nodded. “Any means necessary?”

  “Go to town. But don’t come back with some busted-up bitch with a broken face. She still needs to be pretty at the end of this,
you get it?”

  “I get it.”

  “And listen Dante. If this goes well, there might be a promotion in it for you. I’ll need someone to manage my girls, and you might be the perfect fit.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but felt bile in my throat. “I’ll do what I can. How long do I have?”

  “I’m not sure,” Gennaro admitted. “A couple weeks, at least.”

  I nodded. “Fine.”

  “I’ll pay you extra for keeping her and for feeding her and all that shit.”

  “Good.”

  “Otherwise, have fun.” Gennaro smiled at me. “I bet you can find some good ways to break her.”

  I felt a shiver run down my spine. “I’ll see what I can do.” I stood up and Gennaro nodded.

  “Good. I’ll check in soon.”

  I turned and left his office, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  There was no way I was going to let Jodie become a sex slave for this asshole. I glanced at the stripper dancing alone on the stage, the lit cigarette in her mouth now, and for a second I saw Jodie up there, grinding and writhing.

  The world would eat her up and destroy her. I knew it and Gennaro knew it. He said it himself, that this was only a temporary solution. These girls would get destroyed by him and he didn’t give a shit at all.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do. If I went against Gennaro and failed to bring Jodie to him broken and ready, he’d find both of us and kill us. There was no failure in the mob, there was only one chance or death.

  I had to do what he wanted. Or at least I had to look like I was while I figured out what I really wanted to do in the meantime.

  I had two weeks at least. I knew I wasn’t going to give Jodie up, but I didn’t know how that was going to go down.

  In the meantime, I could work on making her mine.

  Chapter 9

  Jodie

  My wrists are still sore a few hours after Dante came back and untied me. He didn’t stay long, just gave me some food, refilled my water, removed the rope and bandanna, and left again. I could hear him in the other room moving around, but I didn’t feel like putting up a fight.

  Instead, I studied the room. I got up and looked at the wood nailed in over the window. I tested it, pulling it back and forth, but it wasn’t budging. I knew that if I worked it long enough, I could probably loosen the nails, but I didn’t know if that would be enough. Once I was done inspecting that, I went into the closet and checked around. All of the hardware had been removed and I didn’t see any other hatches or possible places where I could escape.

  The room seemed like it was locked tight. I knew the door wasn’t going to happen, so I had to assume that my window was my best bet. I peered outside from between the pieces of wood and could just barely make out some leaves, the street, and the houses across the way.

  So I was probably on the second or third floor, second if I had to guess, and I was in a neighborhood. That made sense, since he mentioned neighbors one time, and he really didn’t want me screaming. That was a potential tactic if I was ever left alone, but he was being very careful not to allow me to make too much noise.

  I sat back on my mattress and thought about how I’d get that window open. Hours passed that way and Dante showed up with dinner, placing the meal down at my feet before leaving. I ate, and although the food he gave me was pretty good, I wasn’t letting myself care about it.

  Dante was a very interesting man. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering why he was doing this, wondering what he was thinking. I could hear him out there moving around and I couldn’t help but wonder just exactly what he was doing.

  I imagined him working out, his shirt off, sweat dripping down his muscular body. He clearly kept himself fit from what I could see, so he must have found time to work out. I imagined his body covered in tattoos, muscular and taut, gorgeous in its red flush from working hard.

  Most of all, I wondered what he thought about me. He kept wanting me to submit, but I couldn’t tell if that was just because he needed me to be docile and easy to handle, or if it was because he genuinely wanted me. One second he was saying that he was going to help me survive, and the next he was tying me up.

  But then there was that moment when he told me exactly what he wanted from me. I felt a thrill run through me again thinking about it. The way he touched me was gentle yet firm, and I knew he’d know what he was doing if I ever let him touch me more.

  The crazy thing was, I wanted him to do what he wanted to me. I wanted him to press me down and fuck me, fuck me rough, spank my ass, pull my air, tell me how much of a dirty girl I am. I wanted him to take me and make me his completely.

  I couldn’t tell if it was just because I was his captive, or if it was something else. I was trying to resist any sympathy or desire for him, but I couldn’t help coming back to that. I heard him protect me from his rapist friend, and he was treating me very well. He was almost kind to me.

  The night slowly passed, and I must have fallen asleep. The next thing I remember was the door slowly creaking open.

  I rolled over and saw Dante standing there. He shut the door behind him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black gym shorts, and I could see that I was absolutely right about his body. He was muscular and covered in tattoos, but also a few nasty scars along his abs and chest. He stared down at me, his blue eyes flashing in the moonlight, but I didn’t feel afraid.

  I felt excited, and I didn’t know why.

  “Do you know why I’m here?” he said softly.

  “No,” I said.

  “Submit to me.”

  “No,” I said. “I won’t do it.”

  He came closer to me, standing over me. “Do you know why I want you to submit?”

  “Please,” I said softly. “I don’t know.”

  “Because I want you. But I won’t just take you.”

  “Why aren’t you hurting me?” I asked him.

  “I don’t hurt women,” he said. “I don’t hurt people that don’t deserve it.”

  “Do you always have a choice about that?”

  “No,” he admitted. “I don’t. But when I do, I do what’s right.”

  “So you think this is right? Keeping me here?”

  He crouched down to get closer to me. “This is one of those times where I don’t have a choice,” he said softly. “But I won’t ever hurt you.”

  “What do you really want from me?”

  “It’s not about what I want,” he said. “But about what you want.”

  “I want to be free.”

  That cocky grin returned. “No. You want me. I see the way you look at me, practically drooling, practically soaking wet. It’s obvious that you want my big cock in your pretty mouth.”

  “No,” I whispered, but he was right. I could feel the heat pooling between my legs.

  “I’ll only give you what you want when you beg for it.”

  “I won’t beg.”

  “You will. You can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to slowly slide down my long, thick cock while my strong arms hold you there. You want to feel me come deep inside of your tight little pussy while you beg my name.”

  I licked my lips and looked away, trying to calm my beating heart, trying not to think about what he was saying. I was his prisoner, and I should hate him. I should despise this man Dante, not want to live out exactly what he was saying to me.

  “I’ll make you sweat,” he continued. “I’ll make you beg. I’ll bring you to within an inch of getting what you need and stop until you’re down on your knees, panting and moaning.”

  “Stop,” I whispered, but it came out a choked moan.

  He smiled and stood up. I could see the outline of his hard cock pressing against his gym shorts. “If that’s what you want. But I’ll be back, and you’ll thank me.”

  He turned and left.

  As soon as he was out of the room, I spread my legs wide and shoved my hand down my shorts. I couldn’t contain myself. Desire was
tearing through my body in violent waves, and I had to do something to release it. I was dripping wet, absolutely slick as I pressed my fingers inside of myself.

  I let out a gasp and a moan as I began to rub my clit, thinking about Dante. I imagined his arms holding me down against the mattress, that thick cock sliding in and out of me. He could so easily break me, dominate me, destroy me, and that thought made me so much wetter. I began to fuck myself with my own fingers, sliding them in and out of my slick pussy.

  I could see his hard cock outlined against his gym shorts. I imagined pulling them down and taking him in my hand, slowly stroking him while he grinned down at me. I’d take him into my mouth as deep as I could go, really suck his cock hard. He’d groan and pull me to my feet, throw me against the wall, and fuck me hard. I’d spread my legs wide for him, let him see me, taste me, fuck me. I wanted to feel his fingers inside of me, his tongue inside of me, his cock inside of me. I wanted Dante to take me, use me however he wanted.

  I rubbed my clit faster, faster, imagining him slapping my ass, pulling my hair, holding my throat while he fucked me. He’d whisper in my ear, tell me how much of a filthy slut I am, a dirty girl, a desperate horny whore. I needed him to talk dirty to me, and as I pictured coming on his thick cock, my real orgasm pierced through me.

  I came hard, thinking about Dante, my own fingers deep inside of me.

  Release washed over me and I collapsed back onto the mattress spent, confused, angry, and satisfied. I couldn’t believe I just masturbated while thinking about the man that was keeping me imprisoned, but I couldn’t help it. He said he’d never hurt me, and I believed him, even though that was crazy. He hadn’t hurt me yet, and only once pinned me down when I attacked him. Otherwise, he’d been good to me, and he even said that he had no choice.

  It was so crazy. I wanted him but I hated him, really hated him. I needed to feel him, wanted to submit to him, but I also wanted to run away and never look back.

  I drifted off, but just before I fell asleep, I thought I heard a grunt of pleasure coming from the other side of the door.