by Jesse Jordan
I blink, shocked. “Camden... New Jersey?”
Rodrigo nods, taking a sip of his juice. “I was actually born in the City of Brotherly Love itself, but I grew up across the river in Camden. So in that regard, I'm nearly as American as you.”
“Nearly?” I ask, and Rodrigo nods. “What do you mean?”
“I have American citizenship, but my mother is Spanish, my father's Italian. He was actually getting his citizenship when I was born. I went to basketball games to watch the Sixers, toured the battleship New Jersey, all of that when I was a kid. I moved to Sicily just about three years ago,” Rodrigo says, his voice pitching lower. “In fact, while I enjoy authentic Italian food a lot, I'm still an American man at heart, at least in terms of what I want to eat.”
I understand what he's trying to say, and I swallow. “What are your favorite foods?”
“Nothing too extreme,” Rodrigo says with a rewarding smile. I'm learning, I guess. “I like to eat healthy, so there's nothing totally out there most of the time. I do have a sweet tooth, but I settle that with going to cafes, sometimes a trattoria. If I indulge here at home, I love getting the makings of a good burger or cheesesteak, which is damn near impossible considering that I've eaten at the real Geno's. But I do my best. What about you, what do you like to eat?”
I'm a little surprised, I thought that the point of this meal was to let me know about Rodrigo, and I can't help it, I smile a little. “If I say I'm used to filet mignon and the finest caviar, would that change what I get?”
Rodrigo chuckles, shaking his head. “No, but the more you behave, the more likely it is that I'm going to treat you to things you like from time to time. Perhaps even filet mignon on your birthday.”
“But you don't know my birthday,” I say, and Rodrigo shakes his head. “What?”
“You have a new life, and so you have a new birthday,” Rodrigo says, some of the merriment dropping from his voice and instead he sounds chilling again. “The day I brought you home, that's your new birthday. The old birthday doesn't matter any more.”
“But... my passport, my identity...,” I start before stopping. “That quarter million was for more than just me, wasn't it?”
Rodrigo nods, his voice still deadly frightening. “The night you were taken, the BnB person probably went through your stuff and took any cash you left behind before turning the rest of it over to The Network. Network men then booked you a flight out of Sicily to somewhere else in Europe or Africa using any credit cards you had with you. Then your passport was put in a bag along with your other documents and a Network operative, most likely a woman in a blonde wig to fool any of the crappy security cameras in the destination, where she'll drop your ID documents in a trash can, take off the wig, and go enjoy a few days in wherever while you go missing.”
“My fingerprints?” I ask, and Rodrigo shrugs.
“Hackers are cheap, and the government doesn't have as secure a handle on their records as they think. We can't get hard copies, but if you landed in an American airport right now, you wouldn't show up on a fingerprint database,” he says.
It's disheartening, but something in the way he talks gives me another question. “So how'd you get into this? I don't mean offense sir, but you don't sound like a dumb street hood. And I've met my fair share in northern Jersey.”
Rodrigo laughs, the ice melting and his warm tones coming back in an instant. His voice twists and picks up the juicy, slurry accent that I've always associated with Philly and Jersey. “Dis betta for yas? I'm headin' down for a night at da bah, youse comin'?”
I can't help it, I laugh, and Rodrigo smiles before switching back to his normal powerful voice, warm and magnetic. “My father thought that education was important, so even though I followed him into the... well, I guess you could say the family business, he insisted that I get a real education. While I stopped at high school, I've done plenty of self study after that. What was it they said in Good Will Hunting? Dropping a hundred grand on a education you could have gotten for a few bucks in library late fees? I took the second path. So while you've got a degree from Rutgers and I've got a degree from the streets, you're right, I'm no dumb goomba.”
“Then why'd you go into the life you did?” I ask. “You're smart, you're charismatic... and why'd you buy me anyway?”
Rodrigo smirks, his eyes glowing with desire that warms me more than the coffee and juice. “I went into this life because it's the life I know. My father was in this life, my mother as well. And before you get into thinking that I'm somehow more corrupt than the people you consider leaders of the world, the world I come from is more deeply entwined in your old life than you ever suspected.
“As for you Jessica, what you really want to know is why I spent a quarter million euros on you and not on any of the other girls that were in that room. You've run the numbers, you've got the brain power that you can do it in your head, and you figure that at an average price of two hundred grand per girl, an overestimate but that's okay, nice round number, that I could have bought each and every girl there, including you, for four point eight million euro. If I paid the same amount as I paid for you, a quarter million, it'd be six million euro total. But I didn't. I chose to spend a quarter million on you. And you want to know why.”
I gulp, nodding. Maybe he's run the numbers before in his head, but it took me a few minutes in the quiet of my room to do the same math in my head. “Yes sir. So why?”
“Instead of telling you... let me show you. Finish your brunch, we have a full day of training in front of us.”
I haven't been outside in days, and the midwinter afternoon sun feels good even though the air is a little cool. I look around the walled area, I guess you could call it a courtyard but it just seems too big for that word. Fifteen feet tall walls ring the whole area, and the land looks like at some point it could be a garden or even a fruit grove of some type. Rodrigo lets me look around, breathing in deeply before he nudges my elbow, leading me to what looks like a large garage or maybe a small warehouse. “What's this?”
“This used to be the oil press house,” Rodrigo says. “Since buying this villa, I've converted into my own personal uses.”
Rodrigo leads me past the big double doors to a side door, taking a key out of his pocket and unlocking the door. “This door does not connect to the rest of the warehouse, which I've turned into a workout room. I let other members of The Network in there. This room though, only I have the key, and I've only let one other member of The Network in here.”
He unlocks the heavy door and opens it. I pause, frightened. “If I say I don't want to go in there, sir?”
“You don't have a choice, you will at least look in here. Then I take you back to your room until it is time for dinner. But you wanted to know why I purchased you, Jessica. The answer lies inside,” Rodrigo says, his voice pulling me forward. I nod, and step forward to the door, Rodrigo humming in pleasure. “That's a good girl.”
There's no lights on in the room, just the dim afternoon light that doesn't reveal much, and after I'm inside, Rodrigo closes the door, throwing us into total darkness before he turns on a switch, and recessed lights illuminate the room, my breath taken away.
The first thing I see is the padded shackles hanging from the ceiling, almost a mirror of what was in the slave pen, but these look... comfortable? I force myself to breathe and look around, seeing the implements nearly covering one wall. There's no heavy whip, this room isn't for that sort of punishment, but for a more sensual kind. But there's other things that I've seen online, the things that, even hanging innocently on the walls or arranged on shelves, send warm tingles though my body. Blindfolds, silk scarves, vibrators and dildos.... oh my God, are those nipple clamps on a chain? With a cat o' nine tails? My breasts tingle at the thought, and I turn to look at Rodrigo, who's taking in my reaction with his dark eyes, his face a mix of desire, approval, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of vulnerability. I don't think he brings many people here.
“You
're into bondage,” I comment, and Rodrigo shakes his head. “No?”
“No,” Rodrigo says, going over to what I thought was a cabinet on the single wall and tugging, pulling down a hideaway king sized bed. “I am dominant, I will be your Master Jessica, but I'm an explorer in sensuality, in the zone where pain, pleasure, sensation and emotion can mix into a release much stronger than anything that normal people can handle because they're afraid. I purchased you Jessica because I am going to push you further than any woman I've brought into this room before. And yes, I'm an expert in each and every item in here. In here, you will experience mind numbing pain, but also soul shattering pleasure. No other woman has been able to take it. But you Jessica... you have the potential to be more than all of those other women put together. I can see it in your eyes, you know that you're a real woman, not some little girl who plays at being a woman but cries like a spoiled brat when she doesn't get her way. You have a world of potential. But you lack something.”
“What's that?” I ask, my breath coming faster and my heart speeding up as I hear Rodrigo describe me. He's not kissing my ass, he's just giving me what he sees as the unvarnished truth, and it's massively arousing, especially with the way he looks at me. Rodrigo steps closer, his body radiating sexual energy, and my pussy starts to grow wet. If he asks right now.....
“You need training and discipline,” Rodrigo murmurs in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “You know it, too, don't you?”
“Yes....” I half moan, caught in his sensual energy like a fly on a web. “Yes sir.”
“But you're afraid too. I can see that in the way you're biting your lip even as your nipples poke against your shirt. You want it, but you're afraid of it, aren't you?” he asks, walking around my body. His fingers brush through my hair and I feel it all the way through my body to my pussy, which is starting to throb lightly with my heartbeat. “Don't move, just answer me.”
I stand stock still, but I don't know if it's because of desire or fear of punishment from Rodrigo if I don't. “Yes sir. I'm afraid.”
Rodrigo leans in and whispers in my other ear, making me gasp. “What are you afraid of, my pet?”
“Being weak,” I whisper, trembling as Rodrigo comes around and looks me in the eyes. “Not being good enough.”
Rodrigo nods, no trace of his normal smile or mocking gleam in his eyes as he looks deep into my eyes, I feel like he's peering all the way into my soul before he answers. “Jessica, it is in your weakness that you can find your true strength. So in this one matter in your new life, you will have a choice. You can go over to the closet, take off your clothes, and lay down on the bed on your back. Or I can take you to your room. You will always have the choice.”
I swallow, looking up at Rodrigo's face, biting my lip nervously. “If I don't obey?”
“Obedience earns you the keys to your maximum potential. Disobedience gets those taken away and keeps you limited. That's more than any punishment I can give you,” Rodrigo says levelly. “The same rules apply that I said outside here, Jessica. I will not sexually assault you, but I will train you. You will be scared, you will be in pain, you will be pushed to your limits. Still, you will have a safe word if you cannot take any more. That word is... Parmesan. And you already know the other word to release the limit on the other side, don't you?”
I nod, hearing it echo around in my head. Master.... if I call him Master, he'll go farther, to a place that my body yearns for even just standing here in front of him. “Yes sir.”
“Then make your choice. Silently, I don't want to hear you speak until you're either lying down or standing at the door.”
I look around at the room, thinking for a moment before I decide to trust my instincts, and I go over to wooden wardrobe that's along one wall and open the door, finding that the inside is totally empty, with four hangars arranged on the bar that hangs at about my chest height with a wooden shelf that's above it. I take off my sweatshirt and t-shirt, using one of the hangars before I take off my sweatpants, more conscious of each square inch of my skin than I've ever been in my life. I hang up my pants and turn around, Rodrigo clearing his throat. “Your socks?”
I look down, embarrassed and laughing nervously as I take them off, my feet cool on the smooth polished wood floor. It's not as cold as my room on the first floor of the main house, but Rodrigo doesn't have a heater going.
The bed sheets are fine silk, smooth and arousing against my skin as I lay down, my arms at my sides, lifting my head to look at Rodrigo who stands at the base of the bed, studying me. He nods, then goes over to the wall, taking two long silk scarves off the shelf. He comes over to my right side, tying one end of the scarf to the eyelet that was originally hidden by the bed's hideaway function. He stretches it out, reaching down and taking my right wrist and wrapping it around before knotting it securely. “Now the other one.”
I cooperate this time, knowing what he wants as he ties my left hand, and I'm stretched out. It's not too uncomfortable, although if I had to stay like this I'd have a problem, it'd probably hurt to stay like this all night.
“You may speak,” Rodrigo says, backing away from the bed and going over to the closet. He unbuttons his shirt, peeling it off to reveal a lean, muscular chest. He's got some tattoos, but his skin is smooth and flawless otherwise, powerful chest and arm muscles that flow down to a chiseled six pack, his ribs just barely outlined against the light tan of his skin. He watches my reaction as he hangs up his shirt, not touching his pants. “What do you think?”
“I... you're amazing, sir.”
“And you are just as flawless in your own way,” Rodrigo says. “Now for one more thing before we begin.”
Rodrigo goes over to the shelf and picks up the blindfold, bringing it over. “Lift your head. I promise you, my hands will not touch between your legs this training session. And you're not allowed to either. You aren't allowed to masturbate, ever, without my permission.”
I swallow, nod, and lift my head, Rodrigo slipping the elastic over my head before darkness descends. Immediately, I can feel my heart pound harder in my chest, and I'm overtaken by a moment of panic before I feel Rodrigo's breath on my ear and he murmurs in my ear. “Remember, in your weakness you will find your strength. And you may continue to speak.”
I force myself to calm, to focus my senses away from my vision. It comes slowly, first my hearing as I hear his shoes cross the tile floor, the leather soles and heels clicking on the smooth floor as he picks up something else. It sounds long, and I wonder if he's going to whip me with the cat when the first light stroke brushes against my thighs, making me jump.
Whatever it is, it tickles, and I'm soon squirming, giggling helplessly as Rodrigo uses it on my thighs, on my stomach, on my armpits and even on the sensitive inside of my arms. “Sir.... sir stop, that tickles!”
“I won't stop until I'm ready to stop,” Rodrigo promises, and suddenly the tickle changes, this time brushing over my already hard nipples. I gasp, electricity shooting through me as the light, maddening sensations shoot from my breasts to the center of my chest and down to my pussy, which begins to throb again, harder and more insistent. I part my legs a little bit, making Rodrigo chuckle. “Do you think I'd let this be dirtied by your wetness?”
“Sir...,” I gasp deeply, the idea making me even more aroused. “Please.”
“No,” Rodrigo says simply, the feathery tickles continuing. As they do, it feels like my entire body becomes an arousal point. The tickles disappear, replaced by even deeper warm throb of pleasure that seems to build near my pussy, just above it. Each of Rodrigo's touches send tingles though my body to this building ball of heat, a fire that I know is deeper than I've felt even last night when he spanked me.
“Sir... oh god,” I moan as he trails the tickler up both of my thighs, barely brushing through my hair before centering around my belly button, “Sir....”
“Let go, Jessica.”
I'm almost sobbing in need for release when the tickling stops a
nd I hear Rodrigo walk away, putting away the tickler before picking up something else. I feel a shift in the bed and I realize that Rodrigo's sitting on the surface next to me, and I realize something else. While I can't see anything, I can sense him. My skin, my ears, my sense of smell, all of it is growing by the second as Rodrigo's fingers brush my forehead, moving a tickling hair out of the way. “Do you want to come, Jessica?”
“Yes sir,” I breathlessly growl, biting back the word that my body wants but another part of me still won't be able to let come out. “I want to come.”
“Watch,” Rodrigo says, lifting my blindfold. He's dimmed the lights but still I blink as my eyes come back into focus to see him so close, his eyes dilated as he looks at my body. He reaches out, massaging my left breast with his right hand, squeezing and making my hypersensitive skin cry out as he pushes the line between painfully squeezing and pleasure. My hips start to lift off the bed, my legs falling open in silent plea for him to pound my pussy with the same strength, whether it be with his hands, his cock... the image of Rodrigo eating my pussy leaves me half sobbing in desire until he flicks my nipple with a fingertip sharply, a steely shock piercing my fantasy and bringing me back to him right here, right now.
“You must learn to not get lost in your fantasies,” Rodrigo growls, sternly angry. “Focus on you, on your body right here, right now! Focus on me, your owner and Master, and the two of us in this instant.”
I look him over, seeing the flush to his chest and the bulge that's clearly outlining his pants, making me lick my lips. Of course he's right, how could I miss something so awesome in a stupid fucking fantasy?
“Sir... is that because of me?”
“What do you think?” Rodrigo says, moving to my other breast and massaging again. He brings both pain and pleasure, adding to it when he spanks my nipples, lighter than he did against my ass but still making my eyes nearly pop out of my sockets I'm so fucking turned on.
“Sir! Oh fuck yes! Yes!”
