by Amelia Stark
“Now Judy, hold still,” she says, as she begins to do her dirty deed.
I furiously shake my head and stare with as much intensity as I can muster, but she’s unmoved! I’m unable to see what she’s doing, but I feel her stretch my tiny organ to its maximum elasticity, before thrusting the needle point of the ball through my cunt flesh at the base of my nub.
“Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” I squeal and start thrashing about within the tight confines of my bondage.
Candy throws her arms across the back of my thighs to stop me from moving, but my mind is blitzed by the terrible pain, which is all consuming. The stabbing sensation starts in my cunt and shoots up my spine, as well as resonating deep in my groin.
I’m dimly aware of Candy fetching Sergio and of him bending over my thighs with a gun like devise and finishing the task that Rosa began. A red mist washes over me for several minutes, while the group stand back and chat to each other. Gradually, my thoughts clear, but I’m left with a dreadful ache in my cunt and a terrible throbbing headache.
I continue sobbing my heart out, while my chest heaves and my body rocks from side to side in distress. My tormentor’s chuckle about something they find funny and wait for me to calm down. When I finally lift my head to see if I can see what they’ve done to me, Rosa comes and leans over me.
“Judy, I’m glad to see you’ve calmed down,” she said and then turning to Candy. “Show Judy her new piercing.”
Candy holds Sergio’s shaving mirror about 6” away from my pussy, so I can see the reflexion. I gasp, behind the gag at the sight of my cunt magnified tenfold. The pin of the bauble had been pushed through the lower flesh of my clit and then somehow riveted in place. I can only see a tiny metal disc behind my tiny nub and the sparkling jewel encrusted ball at the front.
“It’s beautiful, don’t you think,” Rosa says touching the ball. “Every time you touch or see this in the mirror, you’ll be reminded about your commitment to the family.”
“Muuuuuuuuuumph,” I groan, the moment her finger touches the bauble.
The slightest movement triggers a flash of pain, which adds to the throbbing ache, emanating from my tortured labium flesh. My tears start again, so I squeeze my eyes shut hoping that they’d all just go away and leave me to suffer the pain in silence.
“We’re going to leave you for a couple of hours Judy,” Rosa informs me.
I feel the dildo start to withdraw from my mouth, so I open my eyes. Rosa throws the phallus on the bed and then begins to remove the gag and harness. The moment my mouth is free of the ring, I break down in tears again and begin to sob my heart out.
“It hurts so much…” was all I can manage, by way of protest.
Sergio and Candy file out of the bedroom leaving Rosa alone with me.
“Judy get a grip of yourself,” she says heartlessly. “You’ve got two very important appointments this afternoon at the hairdressers and the tattoo parlour, so buck your ideas up!”
I watch her svelte form follow the others out, leaving me to rue the moment I ever set eyes on Sergio’s handsome face.
Chapter 20
I cry until my tears dry up and the pain subsides to a dull throb. I’m uncomfortable, but relieved to be left to suffer my misery alone.
I lift my head, when the door opens, only to see Paola enter the bedroom.
“How are you feeling, Red?” he asks cheerfully, walking straight to where my left wrist is attached to my left ankle. “Not talking?” he enquires humorously.
He unfastens the cuff from the bead head, but leaves my wrist and ankle bound to the end of the spreader bar, before walking round the bed to repeat the process with the other cuff.
“I know you’re in a lot of pain,” he says, dropping his boxer shorts and kicking them away. “But the thing is Red, I have to go to London later this afternoon, so this is my last chance to sample your tightness until I see you in Italy at the end of the week.”
“Please Paola, I’m in a lot of pain, Please don’t…”
“Shut up!” he shouts. “You ungrateful bitch. You’ve got to learn to respect the heads of the family!”
With my wrists and ankles firmly strapped to the ends of the spreader bar, my situation is absolutely hopeless. Fearing he’s going to give me another thrashing, I capitulate.
“I will Paola, I’m so sorry. Please fuck me. That last time, in the toilet, was so exciting,” I gush, with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.
He has the pick of my orifices and for the first time in my life, I hope he chooses the tighter option, because I’m afraid the pain in my pussy will be too much to bear. He stands at the end of the bed, tawse within easy reach, clearly in two minds. Should he thrash me or fuck me?
“There’s a good girl,” he says, pushing his knees up against the bed and grabbing my hips with his great Paws. “Come to Papa.”
He pulls my body to him, until his cock hovers just inches from the deep crevice of my labia. He drops his hands to the taut skin on the backs of my thighs and goes to work with his thumbs. I bite my lip as he runs them across my creamy folds, teasing the portal of my quim by mashing the flesh, first one way and then the other.
Moments later he drives his granite-like cock straight into my creamy vagina until his thighs are pressed firmly against my peachy ass cheeks. My body is so turned-on by the events of the morning that my quim is producing copious amounts of cream, enabling him to impale me with ease.
I’m surprised that the dull ache from my clit, doesn’t worsen, when he starts piston fucking me, so I’m disappointed when he withdraws and attacks my anus with his slippery weapon. Again he used his thumbs, causing me more pain, which increases 10 fold when he pierces my tight muscle and drives his cock into my rectum.
I lay still and moan, while the Italian’s heavy body and balls slam against my petite ass, before finally sighing with relief when he ejaculates deep into the dark recesses of my bowel.
“I’m going to miss this sweet little ass of yours!” he says withdrawing and patting my taught flesh.
I remain silent, while the big man unfastens my restraints and nonchalantly marches off to take a shower. I straighten out and carefully investigate my new adornment. I’m shocked at how big the object feels in my tight cunt. I stand in front of the mirror and see a tiny glimpse of the flashing jewel peeping from my cleft, before my labia dips between my thighs.
Paola emerges from the bathroom and looks me up and down appreciatively.
“My brother is going to love you,” he says, with a touch of disappointment in his voice.
I can’t help feeling that my trip to Italy is going to be like jumping from the frying pan into the fire, but then again, maybe I’m reading too much into the situation.
“Better hurry up Red,” Paola warns. “Candy is getting impatient.”
I rush into the shower, but take my time, allowing the hot spray to ease some of the tensions from my body. When I emerge, Paola has disappeared, allowing me to sort through the clothes that Candy placed in the wardrobe for me to wear. The previous day, Candy transferred most of my clothes from the main bedroom, but kept most of the nice dresses for herself. The question is, has she left me a decent outfit?
Shorts are bound to be uncomfortable, so I plump for a black pleated mini skirt over black cotton panties. I find a pink t-shirt with the logo ‘Brighton Rocks!” on it and don some white ankle socks, which will suit the hot weather.
“Hi Judy,” Candy greets me, when I arrive in the kitchen. “Sergio has just taken Rosa and Paola down to the agency and then they’re going up to London, so we’ve got the whole day to ourselves.”
I’m terrible company, while I prepare some pasta and ham fritters. I sit silently eating my food, finding it uncomfortable to cross my legs or even squeeze then together. The damn piercing is already annoying me with a constant sensation, which only eases when I sit perfectly still.
“What time is the first appointment?” I ask Candy, who seems itching to leave the flat.
“1pm at Benny’s then 2.30 at the tattoo parlour, which’ll give us time to go to the mall,” she replies.
I wash my plate under the tap, then use my mobile to phone my employers, Montague & Smith Solicitors. I get through to the head of personnel and explain my decision to leave the company with immediate effect. I have to be quite evasive as to my reasons for leaving, but in the end she accepts my resignation.
I worked there as a secretary for nearly two years, and to be honest, the job bored me to tears. However, I regret having to leave so abruptly and feel a pang of guilt at walking away from all my friends I worked with. I’ll miss Mary the most, who is my most loyal friend.
Mary had warned me early on in my relationship with Sergio and predicted it would come to no good! Oh, how I wish I took her advice. Unfortunately, she’s living with a guy in a tiny flat in Brighton, so I know that I could never ask her for help in breaking free from the Italian’s dominant grip. I arrange to call in at the office at 4 o’clock to say my goodbyes and collect my belongings.
It’s a beautiful day, so Candy and I take a stroll along the seafront before heading into town for my appointment at the hairdressers. Benny’s is probably the poshest hairstylist’s in town. I’ve never been there and I’m impressed with the VIP treatment I receive from Benny himself.
The effeminate stylist is under strict instructions from Sergio on which style to cut and shows me a picture of the image they want, before he starts cutting my hair. I’m not surprised to see a boy cut on a girl in the photograph, because I have resigned myself to complying with Sergio’s wishes.
The cut has a swept bang, like the wig I’ve been wearing, but a little shorter. Once he’s washed what is left and dyed it black, I look completely different from when I entered the hair salon.
My head feels bare when we leave Benny’s and return to the sea front, but I know it will take a while to get used to it. At least, I won’t have to spend as much time on my hair, but in reality, I’m sad at losing my lovely red mane.
From the hair salon, we walk to the tattoo parlour, where once again orders from Sergio are in place. The tattooist, a young black guy, knows exactly what’s required and tells me to lay on the couch, so that an assistant can shave the stubble on my pubes.
“Skirt and panties off.” The words skip off his tongue, while I dither at the side of the couch.
“I’ll wait outside,” Candy pipes up, happy that Sergio’s instructions are about to be carried out. “I’ve seen enough of your snatch for one day!”
“Come on Judy, I’ve tattooed every part of the body you can imagine,” he says boldly.
I slip the skirt down, followed by my cotton panties and fold them neatly on a chair. His eyes are glued to my pussy as I clamber up onto the couch, but he moves to my neck first, where he immediately gets to work on the tattoo below my ear. While he’s busy, his young female assistant deftly smears some depilatory cream on my vulva. I’m embarrassed about having my clit pierced, but because my head is turned, I’m unable to see the girl’s reaction, when she applies and removes the cream.
The guy positions the one inch dagger on my neck, so that an earring might hide it, while the one just above my vulva might be partially hidden by a pair of normal panties.
I’m squeamish and make a lot of fuss when he tattoos my neck, but I manage to suffer the one on my lower belly without too much bother. Once the guy has applied clear saran wraps over the tattoos, we walk back into the town centre.
We stop at a cafeteria for a sandwich and once we’ve grabbed a seat at one of the pavement tables, I turn to look at my companion.
“Tell me Candy, truthfully, what do you think of my hair?” I ask, hardly expecting a complement.
The surly girl’s mood changed after leaving the flat and has hardly spoken a word to me all afternoon.
“It suites you Jude, there’s a lot of demand for pretty girls that look like boys in our game.”
Candy had earlier started calling me Jude, which I’ve never liked, but now it seems to fit my new persona. I’m well aware that it’s also a boy’s name, but I don’t really think that anyone will mistake me for a boy, even with short hair.
“Tell me Candy, can I really earn as much money as they say from doing the live performances?” I look her in the eye earnestly.
“Sure,” she replies. “All the money will be added together and paid into your bank account at the end of the month, but…” She stops and stares at me.
“But what?” I urge her to continue.
“Well by the time they’ve deducted all the expenses, there’s usually not a lot left,” she explains.
“What sort of expenses?”
“Look, there’s your rent, clothes and training. It all comes off and it’ll seem a lot to begin with, but Sergio will make sure you’re not out of pocket.” She says trying to reassure me. “Don’t get me wrong,” she adds. “I’m managing to save quite a bit of money, but it could be much more!”
We sit in silence for a while, while I mull over my future. At least working for Sergio, I’ll have a roof over my head and a job to go to.
“Have you ever thought of leaving and going to work somewhere else,” I ask Candy.
She scoffs, reaches across and touches the bandage on my neck, covering the tattoo.
“You’d need to find a good hiding place to get away from the company, now you’re wearing their mark,” she says mysteriously and then adds. “The daggers, Jude, are a threat. I don’t want my throat cut or my clit sliced off, so I suppose I’ll be working for them as long as they want me to!”
I sit there in stunned silence, unable to think of any coherent response.
I’m deep in thought when we arrive in the town centre, but I begin to unwind when we start to tour the boutiques. Candy’s mood improves and we both forget our worries for an hour, while we try a few dresses on and have a manicure.
We arrive at Montague & Smith Solicitors at 4.30 pm, and report to the personnel office, where I find that my things have already been bagged by one of the managers. Unfortunately, I’m unable to see my friends during office hours, so I have to leave without seeing Mary. I leave a message saying that I’ll call her and make a hasty retreat, ashamed at leaving the company under such awful circumstances. I just hope that Mary never finds out that I may soon have a conviction for soliciting and dealing drugs on the streets of London!
As we make our way back to Sergio’s flat, I begin to wonder what I’ve let myself in for. And do I really know how deep the shit is, into which I’m slowly sinking?
Chapter 21
The flight to Milan landed at 7.00 Tuesday evening and after Rosa and I collected our baggage, we found a car waiting to take us to our destination. The flight was boring, because we sat together and for most of the journey her head was buried in a laptop, so I sat watching a movie.
However the car journey was much more comfortable and I got to chat with the tall dominatrix. She talked about her father Bruno and his brothers, Paola and Salvatore and how they had grown up in Sicily and moved to Northern Italy when their father developed an illness. Bruno, being the oldest, took over as head of the family, while Rosa, his eldest child, became second in command.
Rosa has two younger brothers, Thomas and Giorgio, who she says I’ll meet later in the week. I’ve actually crossed paths with Thomas, when he became the first of the lieutenants to fondle me at one of Sergio’s little ‘dinner meetings’.
The villa where we’re going to stay, is near Mirano and belongs to Sergio’s family, although only Bruno and his children live there at the present time. There’s just enough light left of the day for me to appreciate how beautiful the location is in the South Tyrol, where the villa is situated high on the mountainside. The scenery is breath-taking and reminds me very much of a skiing holiday I once had in Switzerland several years ago.
When we finally arrive, Rosa introduces me to the housekeeper, Carla, who I take an instant dislike to her, because of the perm
anent scowl on her face. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that the feeling is mutual. Carla, who can speak both Italian and English, leads me through to the kitchen, where she’s preparing some food on a stout wooden table.
“Sit English!” she orders pointing at a wooden bench beside the table.
I wearily plonk myself down and began to salivate at the sight of a tray covered with plates of hot steaming food. She points at a plate with four slices of cold toast sitting in the middle of the table, beside a clear jug of water.
“Eat, drink, hurry up, I show you your room.” She says, picking up the heavily loaded tray.
“Er, isn’t there anything else to eat?” I call out toward the retreating housekeeper.
“No,” she shouts over her shoulder and is gone. I ate on the plane, so I’m not really hungry, but I pull the plate toward me and start to munch a piece of toast. I look around the kitchen to see if there’s any more food lying about, but unfortunately there isn’t. I’ve just finished the toast and downed a glass of water, when Carla returns.
The housekeeper, who I guess is in her forties, is short and portly and wearing a dowdy brown dress with an orange apron that appears the worse for wear.
Her brown hair is combed back and tied in a bun, while her large round face is scrunched up, giving the impression she’s a aggressive woman. The impression is in fact reality and her critical eyes are soon peering across the table at me.
“English, follow me and bring your bag.” She commands, walking past me in the opposite direction to the one I’d expected. She opens a door at the end of the kitchen and disappears down a flight of stairs on the other side of a small landing. I grab my bag and follow her to the top of the stairs, before descending a stone stairway that curves away out of sight.
Each step is wedge-shaped, so I have to be careful in my heels, but there’s a thick red rope to cling onto as I descend. When I reach the bottom, I find I’m at the end of a long corridor. It has the feel of a cold, dank dungeon, but because there’s a strong smell of spices, I guess they’ve stored food in some of the rooms,