A LIVING TERROR

    "Suck it, b*tch. Yeah, take it all in," he said as he pushed his length into her mouth, pounding into her mouth furiously. She gagged as the tip of his length kept hitting the back of her throat, but he didn't give a care in the world. All he wanted was his pleasure and satisfaction.

The woman was kneeling in front of him, blindfolded and her hands cuffed behind her back. He grabbed the back of her head to make her steady. When he was satisfied with pounding her mouth, he released her hair and removed his shaft from her mouth, excess water dropped from her mouth. He carried her to the couch in the room, her legs were bound too. He laid her down making her kneel on the couch, her face placed on the leather of the sofa. He took the whip from his bed and flogged her ass, she gasped in pleasure. He flogged her again, she let out another moan of pleasure, he kept flogging her until she said her safe word. He dropped the whip and went up to the couch, kneeling behind her, spread her legs, and drew her down to him. She kept purring, waiting for him to jam her. He tore the sachet of the condom in his hand and wore it.

He spanked her ass and she moan sensually, he spanked her again and she let out a sensual moan. He aligned his throbbing cock with her wet pussy and in a swift motion, he drove in. She screamed and tried to scramble away from him, but he held her still, plunging into her, not letting her adjust to his size. She kept gasping in pain as he ravaged her, spanking her occasionally. He pillaged her until her painful gasps slowly turned into moans as she gradually shifted to his size.

"Oh, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck," she purred.

He spanked her again as her voice echoed in the room. After a while of hard sex, he hit her G-spot.

"Yes, yes, yes. Oh, sh*t," she slurred as he brought her to her climax and slowly removed himself from her,  and left her squirting.

He went down from the couch, peeled the condom from his shaft, walked naked to the waste bin, and disposed of it. He shifted his peach curtain and looked out into the beautiful view of the city, glittering with tiny shiny lights from houses and rooftops against the darkness. It was drizzling and the cloud grumbled promising heavier rainfall later at night. His phone started to ring inside and he turned remembering that his submissive was still tied up. It gladdened him that she was helpless. He walked back, ignoring her she still purred softly.

He picked up the phone and put it to his ear, stroking his shaft. "What?"

"Don, we have found the scalawag that stole from us," the voice at the other end said.

"Where is he?"

"We took him to the dungeon."

He turned to look at the woman still moaning on his couch and it infuriated him. "Hold on," he said to the man on the phone and went over to her, and removed her blindfold.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes crinkling into a smile. He ignored her and took off her bondage cuffs.

"Dimitra, it's time to leave."

"What? I want more," she whined.

"Hello," he spoke into the phone again, ignoring her.

"Should we waste him, Don?"

"I will do that myself. Give me five minutes." He turned to the woman. "What are you still doing here?"

She eyed his massive cock and flashed him a mischievous smile. He left her front and walked towards his walk-in closet.

"No way," he said, knowing what she wanted.

"Just five minutes, please."

He loved when people begged him, but tonight, it was clearly irritating him. He had been too lenient with the b*tch that she thinks she can behave anyhow with him. She should know her place and know he wasn't in for this sh*t. He wore black jean pants, zipped up, and walked up to her, grabbing her neck and making her stand on her feet.

"I hate saying the same thing twice, now pick whatever belongs to you and leave immediately, unless you want me to throw you out naked." He pushed her away and she fell on the couch, her eyes hurt, more from the fact that she didn't get what she wanted than from the way he treated her.

A few hours later, his sleek black BMW drove into the empty warehouse. He left the headlights on for a while listening to nothing in particular. There was no noise in the warehouse except for the incessant drumming of the rain on the roofs. He dialed the number that had called him. It rang once and the voice answered.

"Don?"

"Bring the fool out."

"Si jefe," [Yes boss] the voice said.

In no time, two men dragged out a wounded man in chains to the view of his headlights and forced him to kneel. The captive was wounded. He had a deep cut on the left part of his forehead where thick blood trekked down his blinded left eye. His clothes were torn and other than his tattoo, he had purple marks on his body. Marks of torture. He was whimpering in pain.

The man in the BMW watched them for a while, reached for his .44 Magnum in his dashboard, corked the gun, unstrapped his seatbelt, and went out of the car, heading straight to the men. He wore a simple black hoodie and jeans with white sneakers, he covered his hoodie as he went towards the men. The captive's eyes dilated when he saw him and he wriggle in terror.

"Ple...please don...don't kill me."

He walked up to the man and pointed the gun at his forehead, his brows drawn into a frown as he placed his finger on the trigger. "Any last words?"

"I can...can explain please..."

"I gave you business and you dare steal from me?"

"No, that's not it boss. My wife was sick..."

The man was cut short by a resounding gunshot that resonated throughout the whole of the dark warehouse. He fell back, his eyes wide open and looking surprised. The bullets carved a deep hole in his forehead. The man in the hoodie turned on his heels.

"Discard his body and get me his daughters if there are any."

"Yes, boss," the other two men chorused. He walked back to his car.

Eros Castillo. A living terror, The devil's son or Lucifer reincarnated were some of the names he was called. The most common was Lucifer reincarnated. Eros Castillo had no feelings for any living thing, he was feared throughout the town and beyond. He was known for two things. He doesn't smile and he has the devil's smirk. To people, it was better he frowned at you than a smirk. He was a very formidable young Mafia lord who has defeated his rivals without effort. He was more feared than respected and runs half of the town's political sector, so he was invincible. But one remarkable thing about him was his face and his body.

Just like the real Lucifer, he was dangerously handsome and drop-dead sexy, with an innocent face that could get a first-timer arguing he could hurt anything. He only listen to one person in the whole wide world and that was his grandmother who was partially blind. She is his only surviving family, the only human he considers worthy. He was a sadist and hated the word 'family' so much. Not so many people know why not even the ones he considers his friends. No one dared ask him questions.

He got back into the car, honked, and drove out of the warehouse in reverse, while the two men stood looking at him. As soon as his car was out of the warehouse, they set to work. Eros drove over the speed limit because the poliza knew his cars and no one dares pull him over unless they want to be paying with their lives. He took out a cigar, lighted it, turned on the trap music, and nodded to its rhythm while he smoked and drove. His phone rang, and he slowed down.

"Spill," he said, once he had clicked on the answer button in his car.

"Mr. Orion just got back."

"Prepare yourself and your men, we are going to pay him a little visit tomorrow," he said and smirked devilishly, stepping on his throttle again.

Mr. Orion thinks he could run with his money. Pathetic people, they don't know that he would fish them out wherever they run to. When they come to ask for money, they cry and say all the problems in the world, but when it's time to pay back, they start misbehaving. It was all in his favor, whether or not they paid. If they paid, they pay him back with huge interest, if not he drags them or their wives or children to become his slaves. He smirked again as his car shot forward.