The Hitman and the Escort

by Natasha Stevens

  I enter her and she screams, biting into my shoulder, and I fuck her against the wall for a while, thrusting hard, and she screams her pleasure and claws at me.

  I choke her until she’s nearly unconscious, as I slam my cock into her, all the while thinking of Chastity.

  Of my brother. Of how I watched them fuck, how I watched them finish, before I shot him.

  Chastity

  I spent the day drinking beer and smoking pot with kids I knew in the park, crying nonstop.

  In the evening, high as a kite, I went back to Vladimir’s house and used a copy of a key he’d given me and went in and went up to his room and lay down in his bed and cried myself to sleep.

  I woke up with something touching my leg, my upper thigh.

  Something warm.

  I was wearing a short skirt and one of my super-tight tops.

  It was like armor to me; I put things like that on when I was feeling defenseless.

  I looked up. “Vlad?” I whispered.

  “Shhh,” said a whisper. It was dark in the room and somebody was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  The edge of a hand pressed against the crotch of my panties, and rubbed gently, and I gasped and arched my back.

  “Vlad,” I said. I was surrounded by his smell in the pillows.

  The room was spinning gently around me and there were sparkles in the shadows; the weed I’d smoked had been supercharged with something.

  The finger moved gently inside the legging of my panties, and into my wet pussy.

  I groaned and thrust against the hand, and another finger joined the first.

  A hand moved inside of my shirt, squeezing my breasts through the black push-up bra I wore.

  And then I put my hand on the leg of the guy sitting next to me, and thought for a second, and realized the hand was bigger than Vlad’s. And so was the leg.

  Rougher. Colder.

  And there was a smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

  “Shhhh,” said Vladimir’s brother. “It’s okay. Everything is okay.” His face hung in the darkness like that of a phantom.

  “What are you doing? Stop,” I said weakly, and he pushed two fingers into me, making me moan again.

  I grabbed his hand and tried to pull it out, but it wouldn’t budge. His other hand was squeezing my breasts hard.

  My heart was pounding. “Stop,” I said again.

  “Shhh,” he said. “Lay there. Just lay still.”

  “Don’t!” I said again, and tried to sit up, but he was holding me down, holding my tits, and I felt like I was impaled on his fingers, and I was aware I was panting.

  “If you lay still,” he whispered, “I’ll tell the cops they were my drugs. I’ll get him out tonight. I’ll pay his bail. Just … lay still.”

  I whimpered as he used one hand to peel my bra up off my big sensitive tits, and his head dived down and took one nipple roughly in his mouth, his razor stubble rubbing against my soft skin, and I moaned in pleasure and pulled his head tight against my breasts, squeezing my legs together around his probing fingers.

  The room was spinning around me and I was aware I was panting and moaning loudly, my hips bucking against his hand, and I said, “Oh, god, do it now, please do it, now, just do it and finish, please, for Vladimir, please get him out of jail.”

  “Yes,” he said, unzipping his jeans and pulling out a stiff throbbing prick, and I pulled my little skirt up and pulled off my panties, and he fell on me, heavier and more muscular even than Vlad, and he thrust his cock into me.

  And I wrapped my legs around him and raked my fingernails down his back as he fucked me, hard and fast.

  And I came hard, in fear and anger and humiliation.

  He came at the same time, and he was kind enough to pull out.

  It sprayed all over my bare stomach, stained my little short black skirt.

  The room was still spinning, and I felt like I was suffocating with fear and humiliation.

  He got off me and stood up, pulling his jeans up.

  And then bright light spilled all over everything.

  Vladimir was standing in the bedroom doorway. He raised his hand, and there was something dark in his hand.

  A gun.

  And then there was an explosion, and another explosion.

  Vladimir had shot his brother, and he was moving into the room now, and shooting him again.

  And again.

  His brother crumpled on the floor. There were more flashes, but I couldn’t hear anything. Just a ringing.

  I don’t remember any blood.

  I remember Vladimir’s eyes. Those sad emerald eyes.

  Our eyes locked one final time, and then I was running, running past him, out the door and down the steps and out the front door, and I just kept running.

  Running.

  Vladimir

  I make sure the billionaire is watching us.

  He is. His eyes are glazed with the look of the completely broken.

  I don’t dare look back at Chastity.

  I’m still choking Nadia and her eyes are rolling up in her head and she’s beginning to twitch from oxygen starvation, her pussy spasming around my dick, and I let out a lion’s roar as I unload my cock into her.

  I feel my balls draining.

  But my anger is not remotely sated.

  I look in her eyes, which are glazed and empty. Hopeless.

  Then I let her drop on the floor.

  She’s barely conscious, gasping for breath.

  She looks up weakly.

  The billionaire, his nose broken and his face swollen and purple, has his eyes closed and his hands folded in his lap.

  I go to the corner and get the knife and kick his leg lightly to get him to look up.

  I drop the knife in his lap.

  “Go ahead,” I say. “Kill her.”

  Chastity

  It’s a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

  I can’t move.

  I can’t scream.

  I can’t breathe.

  The billionaire – now a beaten, bloody, broken man, crawls across the floor towards his former trophy wife.

  His prize for a life of greed and lies.

  Vladimir stands over them, hands on hips, looking down at them with all the arrogant scorn of a god.

  “No,” whispers Nadia, and tries to crawl away.

  The billionaire is weeping steadily, sobbing, as he grabs her ankle and pulls her towards him.

  She kicks, but she’s even weaker than he is.

  He brings the knife down into her side, and her shriek of pain is heart-rending, shattering.

  I wish I could close my eyes.

  Vladimir

  I knew he would do it.

  His pet had betrayed him. What else can he do but put it to sleep?

  Predictable, these scum.

  She screams and beats at him, but he puts his weight on her and drives the knife into her repeatedly, sobbing and calling out her name as he does so.

  She scratches and claws.

  Finally, he drives the knife into the side of her neck.

  She bleeds a great deal, and then she’s still.

  I step to the table, and the weapons case above it, and I hit the keypad and take the gun out, the same silenced 9mm automatic I used earlier.

  The billionaire is lying in the pool of blood. His blood and her blood.

  His eyes aren’t flinty and cold anymore; they’re the confounded, blank, amazed eyes of a child.

  He looks up at me and says, “Ubit mne. Pazhalasta.”

  Kill me.

  Please.

  I put two bullets into the billionaire’s head.

  He collapses on the bloody floor and is still.

  Chastity

  I look up with the muffled gunshots. My ears are ringing again, roaring with the rushing blood.

  Vladimir then walks over to me, and for the first time, the cold and the calculating, the flat and professional eyes are gone and I’m looking into the sad green eyes
of the Vladimir I remember.

  The sad little orphan boy.

  He has the gun by his side, and I manage to choke out his name.

  He looks down at me and says, “I’m a monster. You see that now.”

  I can’t breathe.

  And I finally faint.

  Vladimir

  I look at the gun.

  I look at her. In unconsciousness, her face has relaxed. She looks like a child again.

  My heart lurches in my chest.

  I want to make her safe.

  I want to kill her.

  I want to love her forever.

  I want to destroy her.

  I take a deep breath.

  The room smells like dead meat.

  I tuck the gun in my shorts and lift her, her beautiful body cool and damp with sweat, and I carry her to the door, tap the keypad lock, and carry her out of the slaughterhouse I have created.

  PART THREE

  Chastity

  I was wrenched out of the darkness by the pressure on my arms as a rope wrapped around them. Around me.

  I tried to assure myself it had all been some kind of bad dream, but of course I knew better.

  The billionaire. His beauty queen wife. We’d all been abducted out of his limo.

  By my first love, Vladimir.

  The quiet bookish kid.

  The hired killer.

  Talk about a ghost from the past.

  Vladimir

  She’s regaining consciousness.

  Good.

  I finish winding the ropes around her wrists, and inspect my work.

  Of course, I’m very good with knots.

  I’ve had a lot of experience.

  I attach the heavy-duty carabineer clip to the hoist on the suspension rack overhead.

  Chastity

  I struggle to turn my head around.

  He’s behind me, as I lay on my tits and stomach on the floor, which is something like a foam gym mat.

  I’m being bound, and bound tightly and elaborately.

  As a highly-paid escort of course I’d done a few bondage things like this in the past, but I’d had surprisingly little experience with it. I was not a specialist in it, and men who were into such things preferred specialists.

  A thick rope was wrapped around my waist, and my arms were pulled behind me, so tight that my elbows were almost touching; each arm wrapped multiple times above and below the elbow and then bound to the other. A couple loops came around my shoulder and neck, also.

  “Vladimir,” I say, weakly. “Please, please. Wait. Wait. Just wait.”

  And then I am being hoisted into the air by the ropes holding me, facedown, pulling my elbows back until they are touching, and I can see the room around me, and I scream.

  Vladimir

  I hoist her up using the pulleys on the overhead rack and let her see the room, letting her rotate from the ropes attached to her waist.

  I suppose I think of it as the torture room.

  The other room, where I let them out of the boxes, where the billionaire and his wife lie dead, I think of as the workout room.

  She sees the table with all the straps and the drain in the middle. She sees the enema equipment next to the table.

  She sees the wall with a Plexiglas-fronted case behind which are numerous whips, knives, paddles, canes, and so forth.

  And the camera of course.

  The camera on a tripod is pointed right at her.

  She screams.

  I’ve heard so many screams over the years, I stopped paying much attention to them.

  But hers cut right through me.

  So I put the ball gag in her mouth and fasten it into place.

  Chastity

  The room fills me with overwhelming terror.

  I’ve been through a few mild bondage scenarios, and known a few girls that worked in that field, but it always seemed like Halloween-style fun.

  This place reminds me of an operating room in its cold sterility. Nothing fun about it.

  And the camera.

  Is that for him, or for somebody else?

  Then I see him.

  Vladimir, my first love. The kind, gangly kid who loved books and chess.

  And he’s completely naked except for a leather mask covering his face.

  His body is lean and taught and sinewy, every muscle etched in stark relief. It looks like he has not an ounce of fat on him.

  But I can still see his eyes. His bright green eyes.

  And they are just as they were on the last night I saw him.

  The night his brother raped me, and I begged for more.

  The eyes of a killer.

  So full of hate.

  Did I do this to him?

  He gave me love like I’d never felt.

  And the bright glory of it terrified me.

  But now there’s no love in his eyes. No humanity.

  After I ran for a decade, he’s finally found me.

  And he’s not just going to kill me.

  He’s going to hurt me.

  His eyes …

  He sticks a ball gag in my mouth during my screams.

  He then goes to the video camera and adjusts it.

  He turns on a monitor on the far wall, so I can see myself, suspended horizontally, face down, my breasts and hard nipples pointing downwards, ropes crisscrossing between them and around me.

  My breath is whistling in and out of my nose quickly and I begin to feel like I might vomit.

  And of course, that would be a very bad thing, with a gag in my mouth.

  Vladimir

  I make sure the video is capturing everything, and turn on the monitor.

  That’s a bit of a dick move on my part, all things considered, but I can’t resist it.

  I think of that night – the smell of gunpowder and pussy and my brother’s cum and his sweaty stink – and I feel rage coming up again.

  I remember the metallic smell of his blood.

  I remember the smoke. The flames consuming the living room as I walked out, gun in hand.

  Looking for her.

  I take a deep breath and look at the camera.

  They’re watching.

  I have to do this right.

  Chastity

  He bends down and whispers in my ear, “Don’t be afraid, Chastity.”

  I close my eyes and turn my head away, the thick ball and taste of rubber heavy in my mouth.

  Don’t be afraid.

  I’ve never been anything but afraid.

  I was afraid of his love, and now I’m afraid of his hate.

  He finishes binding my legs, tying my knees together and then my ankles. His hands come up and caress my ass.

  My whole body aches dully from the bondage, especially my shoulders.

  He reaches under me to feel my breasts, squeezing them with both hands, and I can’t hold back the little sigh of pleasure as he gently kneads them, and then begins playing with the hard nipples with his thumbs.

  I close my eyes.

  Then he releases them, and walks back around to the front of me.

  He opens the glass-fronted case, and takes out a couple of plastic clothespins.

  I shake my head, wide-eyed, but he puts one clothespin on each hard nipple, and I draw in breath through my nose.

  The glorious pain is exquisite, and it shoots through me, making me gasp against the gag, my face flush and sweat break out on my forehead.

  Then he takes out a large white candle, and lights it.

  He walks around behind me and in the monitor, I see him tilt the candle over me.

  I murmur into the gag, and close my eyes.

  Then I scream into the ball gag as hot wax drips on my ass, on my lower back, like wasp bites, little electric shocks.

  I writhe and squirm against the bonds, and a thrill of pain zips through me, making me shiver, making my nipples and clit tingle.

  More wax, hot hot stinging drops, on my ass, and I squeal into the gag.

  My pussy
is growing hot and wet.

  “Shhhh,” he says. I look into the monitor. I can’t see his mouth through the leather mask, but his eyes are dancing with light.

  I feel him spreading me, spreading my ass cheeks, and his eyes are full of lunatic glee as he drips hot wax into my ass-crack, on my tingling asshole, and onto my engorged wet pussy.

  I scream into the gag again. My heart is pounding.

  Vladimir

  I think my cock is harder than it’s ever been. It’s feels like it’s going to burst. It’s bouncing in time with my heartbeat.

  Harder than it’s been for years, anyway.

  Since the first nights she and I spent together.

  Those nights were full of love and tenderness.

  This moment is full of hate and violence.

  But the lust part of it, well, that’s remarkably similar.

  Chastity

  He’s slipping his cock into me, slowly, and oh god, I almost cum immediately.

  My pussy stretches and swells around him, oh god, he fits so good, and I whip my head back and forth, moaning my pleasure into the ball gag.

  I’m so glad he’s going to give me pleasure before he gives me death.

  That will be something, at least.

  Perhaps the knowledge that he’s going to kill me makes it that much sweeter.

  If I have to die, let it be at his hands.

  Vladimir

  I almost cum the moment I slip into her.

  Oh god, it’s what I remember, the feel of her, the smell of her, that has haunted my dreams, that has not just left me unsatisfied with other women, but made me actively hate them for not being her.

  I grip her hips, pulling her back against my cock as she swings from the ropes suspending her.

  She’s mine.

  I slip my cock in and out of her, slowly at first, until her whole body is quivering, and I’m enjoying her garbled pleasure sounds around the ball gag.

  I throw my head back and howl at the ceiling as I force myself into her, pounding, hammering.

  Chastity