My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 2 Discovered

by Marita A. Hansen

  I turned my head away and closed my eyes. He slapped my cheek with his cock, making my eyes flash open. “Get away from me!”

  Laughing, he turned to the bedside cabinet and opened the top drawer. He removed a condom packet and ripped it open with his teeth, keeping his eyes focused on my face. I watched in horror as he pulled the condom out and rolled it over his cock.

  “I was aching after you came under my hand,” he said, “so now it’s your turn to assuage my desire.”

  “I didn’t want it!”

  “You still came, and it’s rude not to return what I so generously gave you.”

  “You forced me!”

  “I didn’t force you to come or to thrust your breasts into my mouth.” He climbed onto the bed, moving in between my legs. He placed his hands on either side of my head and leaned over me, his chest muscles flexing from the movement. “Your mind may not want me, but your body does,” he said, lying down on me.

  “Get off me!!” I yelled, now going into a full-out panic.

  He grabbed my hair and yanked my head to the side, the pain making me gasp. “You are so beautiful.” He lowered his head to my neck and kissed it. “So beautiful,” he muttered, nipping my flesh with his teeth.

  “Get off me,” I gasped.

  “No, I’m going to get into you.” He moved his head to look down at me. “You are no longer Jagger’s slave, you’re mine.”

  “No!”

  “Oh, yes, because you are making Jagger crazier than he already is, and I can’t have that. So, I will be your master from now on.” He bent down and kissed me.

  I jerked my head to the side, yelling out as he pulled my hair. He yanked my head to face him.

  “You will not fight me, understand, slave?”

  “Get off me!”

  He smiled, then moved to kiss me. I spat at him, getting him in his mouth and face. He jerked back and spat at the floor, then jumped off me and wiped his face.

  “You dare spit at me!” he yelled, his expression now enraged, his skin reddening from his anger.

  “You disgust me!” I shouted back.

  He moved faster than I was prepared for, his brutal slap making my head whip around. I cried out, my face feeling like it had been struck by a bus. It was more painful than all of Jagger’s slaps put together—times ten.

  Frano grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head around again. “You will pay for that,” he growled, the malice in his eyes making me shiver. “I was going to pleasure you, to make you enjoy what I have, but you don’t deserve it.” He let go of me and opened the bottom drawer next to the bed, pulling out...

  I started shaking my head, the vicious-looking nipple clamps dangling from his hand not something I wanted anywhere near me. He smiled maliciously as he opened one of them. I tried to move away from him, but the ties held me in place. I screamed as he grabbed one of my breasts and placed the clamp on my nipple, the pain shooting through me. He grabbed my other breast and put the second clamp on, the feeling agonizing. I screwed my eyes up, trying to blank it out, but it was unbearable, the pain debilitating. Matt had tried them on me once, but only once, because it had been too much, my nipples extremely sensitive.

  “That is a beautiful sight,” Frano said. “Your pain, my pleasure. Now, open your mouth wide.”

  I opened my eyes, instantly clamping my mouth shut, the small ball in Frano’s hand, making me shake my head at him. He grabbed one of the nipple clamps and twisted it, making me scream out so loud it hurt my throat. He stuffed the ball in my mouth, then secured the straps behind my head.

  “Can’t have you disturb the household,” he said, smiling. He climbed back onto me. “I would’ve gone slow for you, would have made you groan in ecstasy, but you need to know I am not here for you. You are here for me. So, I will take my pleasure while you learn that it’s not worth fighting me—because I always get what I want, and right now I want to be inside of you.”

  His cock prodded me below. I shook my head, pleading with my eyes, although I knew it was wasted with the way he was smiling sadistically at me. I screamed into the ball as he shoved his cock inside of me, burying himself to the hilt. He started moving, pistoning in and out of me, taking me hard, the look on his face telling me he was purposely hurting me, the man by no means small. I closed my eyes and bit into the rubber ball, panting out the pain at each thrust.

  He grabbed my face and pulled back my eyelids. “Look at me,” he said. “Or I will twist the clamps again.”

  I opened my eyes, wishing anyone but Frano was on top of me, even Alberto being the lesser of two evils. Frano started moving again, his eyes telling me I had no choice, that he owned me, and that he would take me over and over again. I started crying, everything too much. It was bad enough being raped, but to be raped by my husband’s murderer killed me, no, I wished Frano had killed me, because anything was better than the pain and guilt that was hammering away at me. Even though I was being forced, it still felt like I was betraying Matt, my beautiful Matt, who I needed now more than ever, but that would never happen because of the evil monster inside of me.

  Something banged outside of the room. My mind went to Federico, who’d left me here to be raped. Right now I hated him too, and I even hated my boss for allowing me to walk into a job that he knew would destroy me.

  Frano stilled to wipe the tears from my face, then he swore and withdrew from me. “I don’t need to force myself for sex,” he muttered, getting off the bed. He pulled off his condom and threw it. It landed on my breasts. “You should be grateful!” he yelled. “Not spit at me, nor cry when I fuck you.”

  He took off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. A phone went off, the twirl ring filling the room, making Frano reappear. He stormed past the bed and grabbed the phone off the desk, barking, “What?!” He snapped his mouth shut, his whole body tensing, then he growled low. “Put him through.” After a pause, he spoke again. “You are to return those women to me immediately!” His jaw clenched. “Don’t give me false pleasantries, don, I don’t appreciate it. That has nothing to do with me! No! I have told you enough times that I will not hand Jagger over, and I do not wish to say it for eternity, because you are not getting him. If you wish to take retribution for your brother then you must come up with something that both of us can agree upon.” He sneered. “You must think I’m a fool to believe that is all you’re after.” He clenched the phone tighter, the veins in his hand standing out. “That I can believe, plus Jagger deserves it. Buono, I will have a dinner prepared for you and your famiglia so we can get this over and done with. Six o’clock?” He nodded. “I will make sure Jagger is ready. And I must say; I’m happy we have finally found a solution, because the Donatelli and the D’Angelos were never meant to be enemies. Ciao.” He hung up, then strode over to me. “This is going to hurt,” he said, smiling. Without opening the clamps, he pulled them off my nipples, the pain making me scream into the ball.

  Frano laughed, looking extremely happy, the man my sadistic nightmare.

  2

  Jagger

  The guard continued talking softly in Italian, Federico’s kind words a salve to the pain Alberto had caused me. Yet, it wasn’t the beating that Alberto had heaped upon my body that hurt the most; it was the mental pain that had come after: the taunts and actions that spoke of me being puttano. But, I wasn’t a whore. My sleeping with the slaves was not a choice; it was a part of my job as their trainer. Still, what Alberto had done to me was damning, the way he’d pushed me onto the bed, tore down my pants, and mocked me as though I wanted his filthy cazzo was beyond belief. I wanted to make him suffer for humiliating me. And if it wasn’t for Frano, the animale would be dead by the end of the night, with his cock cut off and stuffed in his mouth, as well as a dagger resting in his heart, which I should’ve done to his godfather.

  “What Alberto did was unthinkable...” Federico said, reverting back to English.

  That was putting it mildly. I shuddered at the thought. The disgus
ting brute had been hard, his lust for power no doubt behind it, because I knew he wasn’t gay, the bastardo using my slaves as if they were part of his personal harem. But rapists were all alike, sexual preference not always a factor, something I wish I didn’t know about—a downside of my sick job and life.

  I wiped my face. It wasn’t because I was crying, no, my tears had dried up many years ago, it was because I was exhausted from traveling and training more slaves than usual, the orders coming in faster than I could handle. This week I had five slaves leave the cells, Honey amongst them, which meant I had to kidnap more women. I wished that American slaves weren’t so popular, so I didn’t have to fly back there, the flights something I detested. I’d rather snatch my prey from the continent, preferably Scandinavia, where the blondes were real. I also wished that the women didn’t require training, that we could just ship them off like the Slavs did, but our market was specific, our clients requiring certain types of slaves, subs that were trained for their explicit tastes, often perverted as they were, or masochists who cried to be whipped and begged to be hurt.

  “Stai bene?” Federico said, asking if I was okay.

  “I’m fine, I’m just tired,” I mumbled, pushing up from the bed.

  Federico stood with me, looking as if he thought I’d collapse or curl up on the floor, which was ridiculous, because I wasn’t some weak slave, just aching from the beating Alberto had given me, the bruising along my ribs from his kicks probably already beginning to color my skin.

  I headed for the door, humiliation a hard cocktail to swallow. As I went to go upstairs a wave of dizziness overtook me, probably from the knock to my head, which I had sustained from Alberto throwing me down the staircase. Or maybe it was from the acid I’d taken earlier. But regardless, I needed support before I dropped. I leaned against the wall, the cold of the stone seeping through to my bones.

  Federico placed a hand on my shoulder, tentatively at first, then more assured when I didn’t shake it off. “Do you require a doctor?” he asked.

  “No.” I turned and walked up the staircase, needing to get to my room. I didn’t want the man’s pity, nor could I handle it. I headed across the lounge and ascended the main staircase, stopping at the top. I turned to Federico, wondering why he was still following me. “You can take leave now,” I said.

  “The don wants me to guard your room.”

  “Why?”

  “To protect you from Alberto.”

  I clenched my jaw, the mention of my cousin angering me. “I have a lock, I don’t need a guard,” I said, knowing it was very possible that Alberto could attack me again. I should never have provoked him, the man a raging bull.

  “Regardless, the don has commanded it,” Federico said, looking like he wasn’t going to back down.

  “Okay,” I snapped. “Do as you please.” I headed down the left wing and pushed open my door, the surprise awaiting me in my room freezing me. Alberto’s wife was standing by my bed, looking battered, her face painted like my ribs. I didn’t need to ask who had hit her; the answer was more than obvious.

  I shut the door quickly, hoping that Federico didn’t see her, although it was pointless, since she would have to go past him to leave. “You are not permitted in my room,” I growled, keeping my voice low.

  “I didn’t have a choice. Alberto found out about us,” she said. Her blonde hair was a mess, her eyes watery and red from crying, while the front of her dress was ripped, blood spotting the white cotton, making it look as if Alberto had raped her, which he probably had, the man nothing but a monster.

  “He attacked me too,” I said, wishing the woman would just leave. She made me feel guilty for putting her in this position, but then again, she knew what Alberto was like before she’d married him, so the guilt should be laid squarely at her own feet, plus she’d been the one who’d chased me—still chased me, the woman not realizing that I was bored with her.

  She walked up to me, her face full of concern, as though her bruises paled in comparison to mine. “How bad did he hurt you?” She took a hold of my shirt and opened it, her gaze running over my torso. “You should have a dottore check you over,” she said, looking even more upset.

  I removed her hands from my shirt. “No, I’m fine. Now leave.” I pushed past her, heading for the bathroom. She followed me inside, making me spin around on her. “Leave, Bianca!”

  She jerked back. “Don’t be mad at me, I didn’t cause this.”

  “Maybe, but if you kept your vows both of us wouldn’t be in this position.”

  “I do not love Alberto, I hate him! It is you I want to be with. We should both leave. We can go someplace he won’t find us.”

  “I have no intention of running away from him.”

  “But he’ll be watching us even more now; it’ll be harder to be together.”

  “We’re not meant to be together.”

  “Yes we are!”

  “No we’re not! All you were was a fuck to get back at Alberto, nothing more.”

  She flinched. “Don’t say that, Jagger, what we have is love.”

  “Not for me. You’re married and I have no wish to be married, so go back to your animale of a husband.”

  “But he beat me! Raped me!” She held up her dress, showing me her bloodied underwear, making me wonder what he’d done to cause the bleeding. I grimaced, knowing it was better not to ask.

  “You should be the one seeing a dottore,” I said, “that bleeding is too heavy.”

  “No, it’s the woman’s curse. I don’t have sex during this time of month, but he forced himself inside of me as a punishment. It is vile what he did! It is unholy!”

  “You cheated on him, he was claiming you back.”

  “You condone what he did to me?” she said, looking stunned.

  “No, he is a sick monster, but I understand why he did it. And if you run from him, he will do worse. He’ll kill you like his father killed his mother. The D’Angelos don’t allow divorce.”

  Everyone knew what had happened to Frano and Alberto’s mother, their father’s vengeance legendary. Not only had he tortured and murdered her lover in front of her, the old don then buried her alive with the man’s decaying body, saying that she could lay with her lover for eternity.

  “And I won’t run with you either,” I said. “I am not willing to die for you.”

  “I don’t want you to die for me.”

  “I will if you persist in trying to treat me as a lover. Alberto will only forgive so much before he snaps like he did today. And I have a feeling today was just for starters.”

  “Can’t you talk to Frano? He can quell Alberto. Tell him we love each other; that we should be allowed to go free.”

  “Are you even listening to me, woman? I already told you I don’t love you.”

  “You do love me, your body shows me how much it needs me.” She dropped to her knees in front of me, reminding me of Honey, although Bianca’s hands went straight for my pants, yanking them down, the woman always thinking she could pacify me with sex. But after what her husband had done, I was far from being in the mood, not even for revenge, because I had felt a taste of the consequences of our affair, and right now I wanted to be done with her.

  I grabbed my pants and yanked them up. “Don’t, Bianca.”

  She pushed to her feet and pressed up against me, making me back into the basin. “Please, Jagger, sei tutto per me.”

  “Alberto should be everything to you, not me.”

  “No! He’s the Devil, I hate him. I want you!” Her hands went to my face.

  I shoved her away. “Don’t touch me! Both you and your husband disgust me!”

  “This is not about me, it’s about Alberto,” she babbled. “You’re angry with him. What we have is beautiful. You are beautiful. You mean everything to me—”

  I slashed my hand through the air, cutting her off. “You mean nothing to me!”

  She screwed up her face. “You can’t mean that, you’re just angry. And you love my
touch.”

  “I never loved it, it was enjoyable at the most, and I certainly don’t want to be touched after your husband pulled my pants down and rubbed himself against me like a dog! I am not a puttano for any dog and his bitch to use.”

  She stared at me, her face shocked. “He molested you?”

  “Sì! And in front of others, even Frano!”

  “I’m sorry, Jagger, but you shouldn’t blame me for what Alberto did; I have no control over him,” she held out her hands like she wanted to hug me, “don’t take your anger out on me, I love you.”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Then get this into your stupid head. I. Don’t. Love. You. Never have, never will. I’d rather fuck a toothless puttana than you again.”

  The woman moved fast, her slap stinging my cheek, but instead of yelling at her or slapping her back, I laughed, wanting to anger her even more. Another slap followed, Bianca yelling at me: “Stop laughing!”

  I stopped, although I kept the smile on my face, not because I was happy, but because I wanted her to leave. I needed her out of my room and out of my life, because if truth be told, although she was a beautiful woman, I was bored with her, the fucking not even that grande. I smiled wider, saying just that in Italian. Her face dropped, the look in her eyes shattered. I knew I was being unnecessarily cruel, but it would end things quicker.

  She wiped her cheeks, her eyes now overflowing with tears. “You are a soulless man, Jagger.”

  “No, I’m a breaker of souls, someone you should run from.”

  “I can’t. I need you. I need the love you gave me.”

  “Fucking is not love, and it wasn’t even worth my time.”

  My head whipped around as another slap struck me. “I hate you!” she yelled.

  I placed a hand to my cheek, now knowing a little of what Rita had felt. And it felt good. “Leave, Bianca,” I said.

  She shook her head. “But I want you.”