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Chapter 15
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Catherine
I don’t manage to eat even a bite more of my meal. The uneasy feeling in my stomach that comes with the knowledge that I’m going to spend time with Mr. Peccati has any hunger quickly dissipating. When Mr. Peccati is done eating, we rise and leave. I am thankful that Pierto is following silently behind me as I follow behind Mr. Peccati.
When we reach the hospital wing Mr. Peccati turns to the doors on the opposite side of the corridore. There are four in total. He opens the first one and motions for me to enter. I do and he steps in behind me and closes the door. My whole body goes rigid but I try to act indifferent and move towards the windows.
The room is large and could easily hold two to four patients depending on how many beds we need. The
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AlessioI curse the polaks. I curse the chinese. Why the fuck are they trying to run behind my back doing small time businesses and petty crimes. They bring bad fortune to us all by getting caught in the generall areas. Now they are swamped with small-time cops trying to get ahead.I was supposed to meet with De’shaun to discuss the next shipment and their use of our turf when pimping, but the restaurant had at least six cops eating burgers and fries. When De’shaun walked in I had to wave him off like an errand boy. Thank God we have a good working relationship so he might not take offense. And then one of the pigs decided to show off his big balls and sit down with me.“So. What’s a hot shot like you doing in a dump like this, Mr. Peccati?&r
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CatherineWhen I actually wish to see Mr. Peccati, he's not there! At least I can say that today's dinner was the most entertaining I have had since I came here. Franco is a fun guy and he loves to tell jokes and entertain. I heard stories about his, Nino’s and Mr. Peccati’s childhood and all the nuisance they used to cause their mothers.“And then Alessio came through the sidedoor, drenched in mud and Mrs. Peccati almost fainted.” I cover my mouth to keep the food from spraying all over the table as I laugh to the end of his story. Franco grins and throws an olive into his mouth and chews loudly.“Won’t Mr. Peccati be angry that you share stories about him like this?” I ask once the laughter dies down.
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Catherine As the end of the meal closes in I remember that I have to ask Mr. Peccati about Herman Johnson. “Yes. Of course I will approve of him seeing a specialist. He has been a faithful member since his youth. He started working for us under my grandfather's regime.” I make a face of dislike and Mr. Peccati chuckles at me. “What? Did you think an old kind man just happened to live on the family's premises without being a member? Mr. Johnson, or big Johnsy as we call him, started as an errand boy when he was fourteen. When he hit thirty he had climbed up to collector and by fifty he was working as a manager of our brothels. That was before he got sick.” I stare down at my plate in disgust. Sure I figured that even Mr. Johnson had something to do with all thi
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Warning! Contains physical and sexual abuse! Catherine “These are from my personal collection. I wanted to use them instead of the dirty tools we have for other occasions.” He picks up a leather whip and looks in my direction. “This position is not ideal but I will have to make due until I have time to adjust this room to my liking or when I decide to use my playroom.” He moves up to me and places the whip against the outside of my thigh. “This is a switch. It is flexible and gives a nice sting.” He flexes his hand and the whip slaps against me. Not especially hard and I manage to hold in any sound. At that he smiles wider at me. “I see that you have a bit of resistance to pain. That is good to know and suits me just fine. I like to be rough and not hold back.” This time h
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CatherineAre you ready? No! I don’t think I am. How can I be ready for whatever sick torment he has planned? He turns towards the table filled with tools of both pleasure and pain. Whips, switches, paddles, dildos, butt plugs, clamps and so much more. Every little thing he loves to use on me to make me scream, cry and beg for mercy and release. He takes his time as he gently touches the tools one after the other until he picks up a large hunting knife. The blood in my veins freeze to ice as I look at the deadly weapon in his hand.“Aah. Such fond memories.” He steps close to me and holds the knife in front of my face so I can see it better. “Do you remember, Catherine? Do you remember the first time I had you hanging from the ceiling here in the dungeon
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