Russo Saga Collection

by Nicolina Martin

  The couple in the apartment above mine are at it again. They stomp around, cursing, calling each other names that would make most people blush. I’m used to it. I’m also used to the noises when the rhythmic squeaking starts, and the moans. They fight and fuck with an exhausting intensity, but when I allow myself to think about it, it makes me feel lonely. I need a purpose. I need to get fucking laid.

  The girl haunts me. Her tight little black dress. Her tiny feet in those golden stilettos, a thin gold chain around one ankle. She had such a soft voice, the lushest lips… My cock stirs, and I can’t fight it. Above me, they’re not fighting anymore, the moans getting louder and louder. I unzip and grab my thick hard length, wishing it was her little hand around it. I imagine my fingers in her warm, tight pussy before I thrust inside. My stomach tightens and as one final roar penetrates through the walls, I come hard, soaking my shirt with loads of cum.

  Fuck, I wish it was me and not that monster in the mansion that had her right now. I’d take good care of her. He doesn’t deserve her.

  Carmen

  The man behind me, the capo, the self-declared beast, pulls out and then I feel something warm and wet on my ass, something that quickly turns cold and wet. More wetness. A finger, smearing it. I can do anal. But this man will rip me. My belly tightens with pure fear and I clench up as he pushes a couple of fingers inside, deep, without any other preparation.

  “Mmm, so tight for me. Had a man here before, Carmen?” He thrusts his fingers, in and out.

  I don’t answer. What does he want me to say? Of course I have. He knows what I am. I sell my body every day. Every orifice, every piece of me can be bought and belong to someone else for a while. And another. And another. What the fuck does he want me to say?

  I go with the truth. “Yes.” My voice trembles, and I hate it.

  “And still you clench up as if you’re afraid?”

  “You’ll break me, sir.”

  He laughs. “She’s learning, Ivan.”

  “She sure is, Mr. Salvatore.”

  The sound of my heartbeat roars in my ears. All I feel is the cold hard desk under my chest and cheek and the thick cock that is now pushing to force its way inside me. I swallow hard and fight to go slack, to relax, but when he doesn’t pause at that first resistance but just pushes on, I can’t help the wail that escapes my lips.

  “Breathe, Carmen.” He stills in me, giving me a moment to recuperate. “I know you can take me. Don’t resist it, or I’ll rip you.”

  I hyperventilate as he keeps pushing, pulls out a little, pushes deeper. My ass is burning, and I squirm under him as I fight to relax and let him in.

  A hard smack on my butt is my punishment, so hard it knocks the wind out of me.

  “Lie still. I think she needs a distraction, Ivan. Feel free to use her mouth.”

  I glance up at the brute that’s been holding my hands as he changes his grip, pushing my arms up over my back instead, holding them there in one of his giant hands, as he unzips and pulls out a cock as gigantic as the rest of the man. Quickly, I wet my lips and try to gather some moisture in my mouth.

  “Open.” He grabs my chin and I part my lips and let him push his cock inside. He immediately hits the back of my throat, and I’ll never be practiced enough for that because I gag right away, saliva dripping from my chin.

  “Can we turn her, sir?”

  “Definitely. It’s time to look at those tits anyway.”

  Salvatore pulls out so suddenly I squeal, the gaping and empty feeling almost as shocking as the invasion was. Ivan releases me, and the two men grip my arms and legs and roll me over, laying me on my back instead.

  For the first time since I got here, I can look at my tormentor again. He’s got slightly hooded eyes and thick, heavy eyebrows, a sharp jaw and that penetrating stare. I can’t understand how someone so attractive can be so cruel. He shows an even set of white teeth as he meets my gaze and grins.

  “Take off your dress.”

  My arms barely obey me as I grab the hem of the dress and pull it over my head.

  “Cute bra, but it’s gotta go. Didn’t I fucking say no underwear?”

  I make quick work with the clasps and pull it off, dropping it on the desk. “I thought it meant panties, sir, I’m sorry.” My voice quavers but my body is recuperating a little now that I get a few moments to adjust.

  “How will we punish that disobedience, Ivan?”

  I gape and stare at Salvatore and then up at Ivan who looms as a dark shadow over my head.

  “You always have the best ideas, sir.”

  Salvatore catches my gaze and smirks. “That, I do.” He leans over me, staring me down with those black eyes, danger looming in them. “Do what you want. Her head is all yours.”

  I gasp as Salvatore pushes back inside my ass and Ivan thrusts his cock into my throat, reaching deeper, staying longer, making me lightheaded from fear and the lack of air. Every time I think I’m gonna pass out, he lets me breathe. I’m no match for these men. They take and take. Salvatore bruises my hips with his rough hold, his fingers digging in, then he grabs my breasts, squashing them, pinching, twisting my nipples until soundless cries of agony rip through my chest, swallowed by Ivan’s deep thrusts.

  Finally, I just give up. I lay limp and let them have me. Why am I even struggling? I’ve been bought. This is why I’m here. I can’t do anything about it.

  Salvatore pulls out, abruptly, leaving my butt clenching empty air, and Ivan does the same.

  I don’t move. There’s a rustle, and the sounds of zippers.

  “Get her ready for the party,” says the beast known as Luciano Salvatore.

  “Yes, sir,” says the other monster in the room.

  My pussy is raw, my ass is in agony, and my throat hurts. I don’t think I can stand again.

  “Get up, Miss Moreno. You have a party to attend.”

  “I can’t move,” I whisper.

  “Sure, you can.” He grips my shoulders and pushes me up to a sitting position. He sounds almost friendly now, nothing like the cruel man who just choked me on his cock.

  The desk is slick under my butt. And when I put my fingers there, they come back blood-tinged. I stare at them in horror, at Ivan, and then back at my fingers.

  “I’m hurt.”

  “Be glad you can still bleed.”

  That’s one way to look at it, I guess. I can’t help wondering if death wouldn’t be the easier way out.

  “You’re not like him.”

  The giant gives me an unreadable look, then he motions for me to get up.

  Chapter 4

  Carmen

  When Ivan pulls open a drawer and brings out a pair of handcuffs and a choker made of leather, with a ring and a chain, I know my nightmares have just begun. What kind of a man is Salvatore, who keeps things like this in his very office, nearby, probably among his most important documents? Such fucked up priorities.

  “Give me your hands.”

  I hold them out for him, in front of me and a shudder runs through me as the cold metal tightens around my wrists.

  “What’s going to happen to me?” My voice quavers, and I hate it. I’m already beat, bleeding, trembling. What more can they pull out of me?

  “Hold up your hair.”

  I raise my arms to try but can’t reach properly. “I’m cuffed,” I grit out.

  “Solve it. You’re gonna be in much more strained situations soon.”

  My heart leaps to my throat. Digging my teeth into my lower lip to keep it from trembling, I raise my clasped hands above my head and collect my hair, strand by strand. Finally I have freed my neck.

  “See? It wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ivan puts the choker around my neck, the chain falling cold and heavy between my breasts. When he closes it, I feel more trapped than ever before.

  “What are you doing? What’s gonna happen?”

  “I won’t do anything. And you should ask yourself what’s not going to happen. You’re here to serve. You should un
derstand by now.”

  I shake as he grabs the chain and leads me through the room, to a door I haven’t noticed before. My thighs are slick and I’m cold. A scent of delicious cooking reaches my nose and my stomach growls. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. My stomach was in knots, and I just wasn’t hungry. Now that comes back with a vengeance.

  We walk through a corridor, past several sets of closed doors, then another corridor, the scent of food getting stronger.

  Ivan opens a door, ushers me inside a small storage room, around me anonymous boxes on shelves, connects the chain to a sturdy iron ring in the wall and secures it with a padlock. He pockets the key and gives me a once-over.

  “Make yourself comfortable, Miss Moreno. You’ll be here for a while.”

  “Wait, what?”

  Ivan closes the door behind him and leaves me in darkness.

  “Asshole!” I scream, and try to wrap my arms around me, yet again realizing they’re cuffed. I kneel and sit back on my heels, the hard floor soon uncomfortable to my knees. Shifting, I sit on my ass instead, gasping as my tender skin connects with the rough surface.

  I don’t know how much time passes. A sliver of light shines under the door. Shadows move outside, quick steps approach and fade, people talk, scents of food get stronger and then weaker. I’m cold, and numb but I don’t cry. Why would I cry? Right now there’s even a little peace. If I squint.

  I tense when one of the shadows stops outside and the door is pulled open. A man I haven’t seen before unlocks the padlock, unhooks the chain and motions for me to follow. I’m stiff from being still for so long and stumble ungracefully behind him.

  We’re walking toward the end of the corridor, approaching a heavy wooden door. From behind it, sounds of laughter, clinking, scrapes and slams get increasingly louder. As do the butterflies in my stomach. I know I must look terrible. I’m naked, my hips and thighs are bruised, and I bet my butt looks even worse. My makeup is of course ruined from all the crying, and my hair a nest.

  The man holding my chain pushes open the door and I’m overwhelmed by the noise, the fog from cigars, the rancid smell of drunkenness. A long, wide table stands in the center of a large, bright room, blindingly lit, surrounded by men of all ages, all with leering eyes and hardened features, all of them pinning me with their gazes. For a moment it goes silent, then begins the hooting and the comments.

  “Fucking fine piece of meat!”

  “Luci, you did her good.”

  “Motherfucking saint of whores.”

  “Finally, some entertainment.”

  “I need to fuck this bitch.”

  “I’ll rip her right open.”

  “Her mouth is mine.”

  “I’ll make her scream.”

  Nausea rises in me as I take in the sight of around twenty beasts disguised as people. My eyes search for Salvatore, suddenly hoping he’s here, the one single person I have any kind of connection with, hoping he doesn’t mean for this to happen. I may be at the bottom of the food chain, I may be what they scrape up from the pavement as they clean the city in the early dawn, but I’m also just a girl, and I’m afraid. Really, really afraid.

  All hope dies within me as I meet the cruel face of Luciano Salvatore. He looks me over, from head to toe, and back up, stone faced. Then he stands.

  “Gentlemen, friends, partners, crooks.” He glances back at me and smirks. “I present to you tonight’s dessert. Do with her whatever you like, she’s all yours—” Salvatore still has me pinned with his gaze, “just don’t stick your filthy dicks in her. Her holes are mine.”

  A collective moan of disappointment rises from around the table.

  “Come on man, not even her throat?”

  Salvatore looks at the man, then back at me, a calculating look passing his features.

  “All right, take her mouth. Ass and cunt are mine.”

  The brief relief I felt dies. I’m yanked forward and the man holding me grabs my wrists, connecting the cuffs to yet another ring in the wall. He puts a hand on my head and pushes me down, forcing me to sit on my heels.

  I’m naked. A piece of meat. Twenty hungry men stare at me, a couple of them getting up, one with a bottle of whisky in his hand, the other already pulling out his semi-hard cock.

  I can do this. It’s okay, I tell myself. I’ve never taken on more than two at a time, though, and never been chained to wall, naked and filthy.

  “Open your mouth, bitch. Suck me hard. Make me come,” says the man with his cock hanging out his fly.

  I lick my lips and part them, resigned to my fate. As he pushes inside, the other grabs my hair and shoves my face toward the hairy groin of the first man. I wish I could use my hands. The combination is a killer. I can get a man off in half a minute, but here I can’t decide the pace, all I can do is swirl my tongue, suck in my cheeks, making it tight and nice for him. The grip in my hair is hard and the pain makes my eyes water.

  Fuck him. Fuck them all.

  I don’t know how many men I serve that night. The hoots, the greedy hands, the leering eyes, they all blur into one, and that one is Luciano Salvatore. I’m gonna hurt him back one day. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but one day I’ll make him feel real pain.

  Hanging limp, I can’t feel my arms anymore. I’m covered in cum, my throat aching, tears slowly drying on my cheeks. The crowd has thinned out. Only a few men remain, and no one is interested in the dirty, bruised rag that is me. They’re drunk as bats, playing a card game, smoking their disgusting cigars and bragging about people they’ve killed and women they’ve fucked. I might as well not exist.

  I jerk when I hear a voice. I must have dozed off because when I look up, the room is empty save for Salvatore and Ivan.

  “Clean her up and bring her to my chambers.” Salvatore leaves without looking at me.

  Ivan crosses the room, grabbing my aching arms, pulling me to my feet. He unlocks the cuffs and then pushes me toward a door to the side. We move through one beautiful room after another, but I barely register it. A suspicion mounts in me that the worst is yet to come.

  Bring her to my chambers.

  Luciano Salvatore is a sadist. And he’ll keep pulling pain from me until he’s satisfied.

  We enter a bathroom. The tiled floor is blissfully warm against the naked soles of my feet, the colors are warm brown, with gold details. Lush beige towels hang neatly over an electric towel heater. There’s a large shower with a glass wall.

  Ivan reaches for the faucet and a stream of water begins to pour from the large shower head in the ceiling, steam soon filling the room.

  He unlocks the cuffs and the collar. “Clean up.” There’s no emotion in his voice. No pity. I’m nothing but an object to these men.

  I tremble as I step into the pouring water, wincing when heat meets my tender skin.

  A draft. The door closes. I’m alone.

  Tears fall as I tilt my head and face the stream, washing away the smeared makeup, the semen, and the filth. I don’t know why I’m crying. I shouldn't get emotional. It’s not part of the trade. But I feel filthy. Wrong. A vision of the boy with the kind blue eyes and the warm voice makes my chest clench. Sometimes I wish I had never left my parents. I always wish I had never left my parents.

  Father, forgive me for I have sinned.

  I lather and rinse, lather and rinse. There’s no use not obeying, and besides, the feeling of ridding myself of every trace of tonight is bliss.

  Forgetting myself, I jump when the door opens.

  “Time’s up. Come with me.”

  My heart sinks. It’s time. Time for the boss himself. I’m used up. Destroyed. What more can he possibly want from me?

  I reach for the towel, but Ivan snatches it out of my hands. “You won’t have no use for that.” Then he reattaches the black leather collar around my neck, grabs the chain and loops it in his fist. “Let’s go.”

  I’m dripping wet and shake visibly as I stumble behind him through the dark house, the rooms gett
ing cozier, more personal. I realize we’re in the private part of the house, and that there is no one else here. No staff in sight. No one who can hear me scream. No one who can help me. I look at the broad back of the man in front of me and I don’t know whether I should hope for him to stay, or if I should pray that he’ll leave.

  Opening one half of a double door, he then pushes me inside.

  “Good luck, Miss Moreno.”

  Luck? There is no luck in this house.

  Chapter 5

  Carmen

  The room is faintly lit only by a little lamp next to a large bed with four bedposts, and another little lamp in one of the windows. There’s a masculine feel to the room, all dark leather furniture and muted colors. A scent of a cologne I recognize lingers in the air, as well as a hint of fresh soap. I finger the collar and look around me. I think I’m alone and flinch hard when Salvatore speaks, his deep voice coming from a dark corner to my left.

  “Step inside, Carmen. Place yourself where I can see you.”

  I take a tentative step forward, and then one after the other until he tells me to stop.

  “Are you afraid yet?”

  I shudder. “Yes, sir. I am.”

  “Good. Are you in pain?”

  Do I tell him yes and hope he’ll take pity on me? Do I tell him no and hope he’ll find me brave? I decide for the truth. I think the truth will always be the best with this man.

  “No, sir. I ache some.”

  “Where do you ache, Carmen. Step closer. Come stand before me.”

  I move toward his voice, seeing him better now that my eyes have adjusted.

  A low purr emanating from his throat makes my pussy clench. How can he affect me? Still? After all this?

  “Closer, Carmen.” He spreads his thighs and I step in between them, so close that I feel the heat against the outsides of my own thighs.

  “Good girl.” He pulls down his zipper and pulls out his cock, already hard. “Now tell me. Where does it ache?”

  I clear my throat, my eyes darting between the much too handsome face of my tormentor, and the impressive thick cock he’s stroking.