The Mafia's Pet

Chapter 4

Vanessa

I lose track of time until the door finally unlocks, and my captor strides into the room. His eyes bore into me as he tosses a pile of papers onto the bed. "Read it and sign it," he demands.

I pick it up cautiously, treating them as if they're a ticking bomb. I mean, this contract is equally capable of ending my life...at least for the next six months.

I go through the contract word by word because I don't trust him in the slightest. Who knows what perverted things he could try to slip in there?

The contract stipulates that if I become his 'pet' for six months, the debt will be considered paid. But there are a few conditions I'm already saying fuck no to -calling him "Sir", obeying without question, and the absurdity of waxing my private parts weekly.

Who the fuck does this dude think he is?

"What the hell is this part about wearing a collar even in public?" I demand, throwing him a skeptical glare.

"It will arrive in the morning. It will let all men know that you belong to me," he explains casually.

I grit my teeth. "Is that necessary?"

I don't want a physical reminder that I'm trapped in this situation, and my captor is trying to train me like an animal.

"Answer this, Vanessa. Would you put food in a company fridge without labeling it?" he counters, tilting his head as he scrutinizes my every move.

"That wouldn't stop anyone from eating it if they really wanted to," I answer thoughtfully.

His eyes harden, his nostrils flaring. Although, I'm not sure if he's angrier at me or the idea. "Nobody touches what belongs to me unless they want their fucking hands chopped off!" he declares fiercely.

He says it with so much malice and conviction, leaving no doubt in my mind that he has done it before and won't hesitate to do it again.

As soon as I sign my name and hand the contract back to him, he hungrily snatches me off the bed. I yank my arm out of his grip. "Hey, don't manhandle me like that!" I snap.

"Get on your knees." His voice is a dark thrum of authority.

"No." I won't let his dangerous presence intimidate me. I boldly step closer, our bodies mere centimeters apart.

"As my pet, you will do as I say," he growls.

"Fuck. You."

The second the words leave my mouth, he forces me onto my knees. Grabbing my hair, he yanks my puff almost painfully as he unbuckles his pants with the other hand and yanks out his dick. I've never seen one in real life before, only in porn, and quite honestly, I'm afraid of it. It's long and thick and there's no way it will fit in my mouth.

"I-I've never done this before," I stammer, feeling tears brimming in my eyes from the painful burn of my scalp.

Dickweed grabs my chin, stroking it as he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. "That's okay, Mama. I knew my pet would need some training." He squeezes my jaw. "Open."

I reluctantly obey, feeling a shiver of revulsion crawl down my spine as he spits into my mouth. The thick wad of saliva rests on my tongue, and I fight the urge to gag.

Eww, what the fuck?

The bodily fluids of other people gross me out, and here this disgusting asshole is spitting into my mouth! How am I supposed to escape this situation, or spit it out without him noticing?

As if he can read my mind, he clamps my jaw shut. "Swallow."

I shake my head rapidly. No fucking way. What if he has STDs? What if he has poor dental hygiene, and his germs are just festering in my mouth?

Well, I'm actually not worried about the latter. I'm sure he has servants or something to brush his teeth for him.

But honestly, I shouldn't need a reason why I don't want someone's loogie in my damn mouth.

The unpleasant sensation lingers on my tongue as I remain on my knees, peering up at him with a mixture of disgust and defiance.

I can still feel it on my tongue as I remain on my knees, gazing up at him.

Oh God. I'm going to throw up.

"Now," he growls, his dominant gaze igniting my skin on fire. I force myself to swallow, suppressing another surge of nausea. "Open your mouth and show me you swallowed it."

I roll my eyes, complying and sticking out my tongue. He hums his approval. "Good girl."

Those two simple words awaken something inside of me. My body ignites with need, an intense aching growing between my legs.

I really am more fucked up than I thought.

He gazes down at me as he tucks his hard dick back into his pants. I let out a sigh of relief, but it doesn't last long as he follows with another command. "Pull down my pants. Keep the boxers on."

With fear coursing through me, my trembling hands find the hem of his pants and slowly slide them down. I accidentally graze his dick, somehow making it even harder underneath my touch.

"Careful, Mascota. You don't want to wake the monster," he warns, his accent thick and ominous.

Uh, I think it's already awake.

I suddenly realize that's not what he means. His eyes are dark and hooded with lust, as if he's barely holding onto his restraint and I'm about to snap that bitch. My heart races as a primal instinct tells me to flee while I still can.

He steps out of his pants and strips off his shirt, leaving him standing in nothing but black boxers. I finally get a full view of his tattoos, and there are a lot of them. The one that stands out most to me is the name "Nathan" above his left pec. I wonder who that is, but it's not like I can just ask him.

He catches me staring and bites his bottom lip, giving me a mischievous smirk. "You see, Mama. I'm going to break you. Then, I'm going to mold you into my pet. You'll want nothing more than to please me. To worship my cock. To fully submit your mind, body, and soul to me."

His words make me shudder, but I'm unsure if it's entirely in disgust this time.

The Stockholm Syndrome must be setting in already.

I don't respond, but he extends his hand out to help me up, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. "You've done well tonight. We may go to bed now," he says softly.

We? I know he's not suggesting that we're sleeping together!

He lays down in the massive bed and motions for me to join him. "C'mon Mascota, come cuddle with me."

I shake my head. "No fucking way."

His eyes flash with anger, a storm brewing beneath his calm demeanor. "Now, Vanessa. I won't ask again," he warns.

Trapped alone with him, I have no way to escape. All I can do is obey or face the consequences. Who knows what kind of sick "punishments" he has in store, and I really don't want to find out. For fuck sakes, he just made me swallow his spit!

"It's been so long since I've had a woman in my bed. I'm so happy with our arrangement." His words are like poison, dripping with satisfaction at my predicament, a reminder of my helplessness in the face of his power.

I nearly scoff but decide against it, swallowing down my bitter defeat. It's not like I had much of a choice in any of this. Either be his personal whore, be pimped out, or killed. I had to make a decision that would best save me and my sister.

I wonder where Alicia is. She must be terrified right now, alone and helpless. Although she is my older sister, we don't share the same personality. I hope none of those gross, scary men are putting their hands on her.

"I-If I lay with you, can I see my sister tomorrow?" I manage to ask, searching for any control of this never-ending nightmare.

He props himself up on his elbow, stroking his chin as he studies me intensely, his gaze like a predator sizing up its prey. Then, he smirks and says, "Sure Mama. She'll be starting work tomorrow, so we can take her to the club together."

My heart sinks at the thought of Alicia going through that alone. She'll be eaten alive in this world without me. "If she's going to work there, I want to as well."

"No. Your place is here with me," he responds immediately.

My throat tightens as I realize what he's implying. "So, I'm going to be locked up in here for six months?" I ask in horror.

He shrugs. "If you're a good girl, you can earn the privilege of leaving the estate."

A spark of hope ignites. If he's telling the truth...If I pretend to comply with what he wants, he'll let me out of this fancy hellhole, and the second I'm free, I'll find a police officer...any police officer, and tell them what's going on. They're the only people that can help us.

It's the perfect plan.

I cautiously slide into bed, positioning myself to face him. Although this isn't a comfortable position, I can't bring myself to turn the other way. He's way too close to my lower half.

As I stare into his eyes, I silently vow to do whatever it takes to get Alicia and me out of here. Even if it means surrendering to him.