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Author: sgm_23
last update Last Updated: 2021-07-02 00:40:24

What if they were the sex slave type? I started hyperventilating, imagining the life I was going to have to lead from now on, and without realizing it I started crying. He threw me on the couch and I fell bouncing sideways, causing Salem to come out and utter my tears. He liked salt. I thought maybe he was just going to rob me and now that he had seen it he would have to kill me. Who would expect someone to be in my house on Valentine's Day? If he killed me, who would take care of Salem? Rob? I started thinking about Rob my brother. Without me I would have no one to call every day in the afternoon, nor would I have a cook on weekends

Before I could begin to beg for my life, my abductor shoved something into my mouth. Poison. My eyes widened and I began to shake until an unexpected taste began to flow through my mouth. Could be...? It was...? I had scooped ice cream into myself. I stared at him without understanding anything.

- You are a very annoying cutie. I'm not going to let you go because if you kick me out, it's dangerous for me as well as for you, do you understand? You also talk too much. I'll feed you your damn ice cream and we'll watch whatever movie you want. It's only tonight. I'll watch over you and tomorrow when you wake up I won't be there. It will be as if none of this has happened. 

I nodded enthusiastically. Suddenly the entire castle of terror and suffering that he had raised in the air had evaporated. I was going to be free and nothing was going to happen to me. On the other hand, this man only inspired me with hatred. Even his voice gave me courage. How was that possible? If at that moment I could have, I would have killed him. I did not know if it was his physique, his voice, or his way of being, but I was touching my nerve fiber and I was getting out of my way, when I've always been a very reasonable and quiet girl. I used to like everyone, but with him, my brain had made a big exception.

He hit the movie, and all my thoughts about hate were forgotten. Channing Tatum occupied every corner of my mind and left no room for the idiot who gave me chocolate to keep me quiet. When the ice cream was gone, he put the spoon in my mouth, as if it were a lollipop, and gradually fell asleep. 

I woke up with pain in my back and arms. She was lying on the floor, or the table, or some very flat but warm surface. It had to be on the floor because the carpet was working fine. Salem had to be on my back because I could feel his little body in the lower part of my back. Although everything hurt, I was comfortable. The carpet smelled great and was soft. I rubbed my cheeks for her and sighed. I had never noticed its texture. He had to sleep more often on the floor. I was about to fall asleep again when Salem pulled me closer to the carpet, or what I thought was my cat. I blinked in confusion and found myself staring at the idiot's neck. Neck? I looked down at the rug and realized it wasn't the rug, but her bandaged chest. I looked back and saw that it wasn't Salem, but his hand resting almost on my ass.

He was wearing his shirt. I could feel how the dried blood had stuck it closer to my body. The pants had gotten tangled in his legs because they were too big for me. A beautiful postcard to send to the whole family at Christmas. Me about my kidnapper who was supposed to have left. I wanted to wake him up and yell at him, but I was too comfortable about him and this was the closest thing to Valentine's Day I was going to have. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to imagine that he was nice and that he loved me. 

I woke up again in the same position, only I was hearing him speak very softly as if trying not to wake me up. Afternoon. I had woken up. I scrambled trying to get rid of him. Now I wanted a little privacy. Besides, he hadn't left. More anger began to come out of the volcano of my violence. A volcano that he was continually erupting and that was starting to bother me. He couldn't live with the anguish of wanting to beat him up. It was not healthy to suppress such intense feelings. Maybe I should unload some of my rage... 

Before I could begin to beat him up, he had my face down against the couch and he was still talking on the phone as if I wasn't there trapped under his body in an awkward position. No. That did not matter to the murderous gentleman in the least and it also did not even affect him.

So sad! Even my captor laughed at me. What a life so unfair! ...

He closed the phone and looked at me amused. Now I was the center of attention and that was almost worse than before. I looked defiant but deep (and not so to the bottom) I was terrified. If he hadn't left, it meant he was going to sell me to a real slaver. Or maybe he uses me like a drug test. Or as a human shield ... I began to tremble with all the possibilities that crossed my mind (None good, of course) although I continued to maintain my "I don't give a shit" gesture. He shook his head and got up, leaving me sprawled there on the couch.

- Good morning, idiot. Why are you still at my house and why am I still handcuffed? - I tried to sit down, ending up on the floor on my knees after falling.

Sensual and agile … That was me.

- Good morning to you too cutie - He leaned casually against the wall. As casually as a model - I tried to go out, but my allies called and warned me that they were watching me and you were asleep, so I figured waking you up to tell you that was not a good idea. Then I ended up leaving me asleep - Said the latter if an iota of shame.

Useless.

- You're the worst whatever. They shoot you. You end up in the house of an innocent girl and on top of that, you fall asleep on your watch shift. You are the most useless thing in your profession. And now that? - I would have crossed my arms if I hadn't had them handcuffed behind my back.

- Good question ... - He frowned thoughtfully. With that face the poor thing was uglier - Now what?

- I have a few ideas - I gave him the most cheerful look I could find in my list of fake looks for desperate occasions - First, you take away these disgusting handcuffs because I do not have sadomasochism. Second, I shower and groom myself. Third, you introduce me to a handsome mafia friend of yours and that's it - I smiled with my perfect plan to get him out of his mind. 

- Nice try, little red riding hood ... - Her eyes widened.

Shit. The hamster had run on the wheel of his brain and was having an idea for the first time in his life. A miracle before my eyes! Now, I couldn't be sure if that idea was going to appeal to me or not.

- We will do exactly what you said cutie. Sometimes you can even have good ideas, although I don't like taking off the handcuffs very much because you could try again to kill me for the stupid cat you have as a pet. 

- SALEM - It's called him- SALEM AND IS NOT STUPID, YOU... - I recapped his mouth with his hand while chuckling.

- You are very annoying, I should buy you a muzzle or just gag you - He smiled when he said the last.

Shit.

He pulled out of his pocket a handkerchief a little longer than usual and I started shaking my head.

He wouldn't be able to... He's just playing, right?

His determined gaze told me that he was very capable and that he was going to do what he had told me. Fuck, this man was crazy. I started to flail against him and he held me against his chest. I hit him with my body as much as I could, but he didn't care. Excellent. He removed his hand and before I could scream, he shoved part of the handkerchief into my mouth and tied it behind my head. My kidnapper was the strangest thing in this world. He threw me on the couch in one of his mood swings and watched me smiling. He had done what he wanted and was proud of his work.

Dumbass.

He picked up the phone without taking his eyes off me and I didn't have that much patience.

- Hunter, I'm G. Yesterday I had an altercation and I got into the house of a stranger ... with her inside. I have her gagged and handcuffed. - He listened to the answer for a moment - God! No Hunter, please. She looks like a bunny, how could I do that to her? I'm too sorry for it, that's why I think we have to take her away.

A bunny? Was he comparing me to a fucking rabbit? But what does this madman have on his mind? Wait, wait, wait... Take me? This man had been drinking my vodka for sure. Disgusting pink. Every second I felt worse and that Hunter too, for excited.

- You have to protect her. The Lucci is still behind us and they know I've been here. They will believe that she is part of our family and they will do things for her.

I began to tremble. "Doing things to her" didn't exactly sound like giving me a massage.

- Exactly, she has nothing to do with it and it is not her fault. Even if you do not support it, you have to take care of it until things are calmer. So can you come to pick us up at his house? I need you to pack her suitcase and take her home. - He laughed - Of course we are going to stay at your house, friend. Mine is no longer safe - He hung up without poor Hunter being able to send him to hell, which is what I would have done. What an idiot this G was made of. I would have killed him if he hadn't had his arms immobilized. 

He went to my room and I started to worry. Was he going to rob me? I jumped off the couch and followed him. I thanked him for not having tied my legs. So yes that would have taken me crazy. I saw him putting my clothes in a backpack. Wrinkled dresses, jeans, sweatshirts, t-shirts... All to the super wrinkled mess. My mother would have already given him an impressive scolding, but I couldn't, because of the gag. I glared at him, but he was absorbed in his world of idiocy and utter emptiness. Finally, he did the only thing that would make me jump: grab my underwear. He eyed my lace panties and matching bras with a kind of wonder and reverence. Dirty! Before the pervert could do anything with them, I jumped up and threw him on the bed, and kicked him several times.

I don't know why I thought I was going to win when my disadvantage was very clear. Too clear. I looked at him in fear when he turned me around with a smile from ear to ear that gave me the chills. Something bad was going to happen to me. I started to bulge and shake under him. I closed my eyes and waited. I counted to ten and seeing that nothing was happening I opened my eyes. He was looking at me amused.

- You're like a kitten. You try to roar but you only get a meow - He shook his head and stood up - I didn't expect your underwear, that's all. I expected panties with little flowers or cartoons, not something so ... - he coughed - You know. 

I looked up an eyebrow, he thought it was: A: very young or B: very immature. Great. He knew how to make a girl look at him with disgust even though he was very handsome. That had to be an innate gift. Seeing that my position on the bed (all sprawled) was not optimal, I repositioned myself, sitting as straight as possible on the edge. Maybe if I behaved well, I would remove the gag.

And if you didn't expect the famous Hunter to do it.

Suddenly, a not-very-rewarding idea burst into my mind. Maybe Hunter was worse than G. Oh my! I looked at G and winced. He couldn't take another jerk, especially if he was worse than the bastard. Maybe he tied my feet and everything. I looked at my ankles with pity. It would leave me scratches, like the ones that were growing on my wrists. A wave of resentment emanated from my soul. Because of the idiot, I was going to have marks on my wrists when I was one of the few parts of the body that I liked.

The doorbell rang and I looked at G, shaking my head. Now he was not so eager to meet his partner. It sure scared me. He just laughed and went to the door. I kept moaning against the cloth of the gag, but he was laughing much louder. Desperately I kicked him that cut off his laughter and left him still.

Oops ...

- Stay quiet Samantha or I will run out of patience - He warned me with a voice that made my hair stand on end. 

Almost on the brink of tears and hysteria, I bounced against the wall and ducked. G hadn't even turned around to speak to me, but he had made his position very clear. I sat down on the floor and covered my face. My hell was going to start, he felt. My life with Salem and Acer was over.

The mob had indefinitely taken over my life and I didn't like it.

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  • The mobster and the writer   Epilogue

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  • The mobster and the writer   33

    I yawned and tried to get out of my room without making a noise. Kyle had expressly asked me to go to the gym without anyone noticing. Derek had something planned for both of them and no one could find out. I figured Johnny was one of the reasons. He was a little more protective of me lately. We had started to be "something". None of them had raised the subject for conversation, but we knew that we had started some kind of relationship, the problem was that it was not clear what he wanted. I changed into my black leggings and a long gray sweatshirt. He didn't know why it was so cold in the Den at night. They used to keep my room at a more or less stable temperature, but it was going out into the hall and feeling the cold digging like knives into your skin. It seemed that he had reached the Arctic Circle. I looked to the right and left. I saw no one. Maybe they were, but the lack of light didn't help me to see if someone was following my steps. My march was light and fast. He

  • The mobster and the writer   32

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  • The mobster and the writer   31

    After all the paraphernalia put out for the mission, the atmosphere seemed dull. Each person was depressed from lack of action. The only one who was relieved that it was over was me. Johnny disappeared as soon as we got to "The lair", as he had ended up calling the place where they held me semi-prisoner. Mike went back to his chaperone-counselor-shoulder position to cry on. I spent a bit of it. I didn't trust him too much after his false promise that he would protect me when they gave me a nice beating later. He wasn't very trustworthy. He took my silences as spaces that he had to fill with his insubstantial monologues that to me, personally speaking, could not matter less. It was a continuous stream of words that flowed in and out of my ears without even being registered by my brain. - ... Then Kyle started laughing while Paul scooped up all the beer he had spilled when they made a touchdown. It was fun to see him on his knees with a napkin trying to dry the floor. When he

  • The mobster and the writer   30

    The best started when our "mission" ended if you could call that. I hadn't done anything except get in trouble, but nobody knew that last, nor was anyone going to know. How could I explain to anyone that I already knew Hunter from before and not connect with his mob? And they had marked me as innocent and I was not going to discover myself. It was better than this episode was forgotten. If she started thinking about Hunter, she would end up returning to the topic she was trying to avoid anyway.Johnny seemed to have completely forgotten that another man had been with me. He was busy enough watching the islets of the slot machines move. I was almost hypnotized. He defended himself saying that the money was given to him by the mafia and that we could do whatever we wanted with it. As long as it was free, he didn't care at all. He was a man with a physique and personality that reminded me so much of G. Why couldn't I get it out of my head without any remorse? Many women dated me

  • The mobster and the writer   29

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