Page 6 of Beast

Matias moves up behind me on the bed. I tense, expecting him to force himself inside. But instead I feel the head of his cock nudging at my ass. My eyes go wide.

He strokes himself, rubbing the head of his dick right from my clit and back up to my ass. “I’m going to cum on your ass. Hold still.”

I clench my eyes shut and brace myself as Matias continues stroking himself. The head of his cock drags along my wet pussy, and I feel utterly violated.

“Please stop,” I beg weakly, even though I know it’s futile. Matias just chuckles darkly.

“Keep begging, it makes this even hotter,” he says. I hear him start to breathe heavier and know he must be close.

Sure enough, moments later I feel the hot spurts of his cum landing across my lower back and ass. Matias groans loudly as he finishes, pumping himself through his orgasm. The sticky fluid drips over my skin, marking me.

“That’s a good look for you,” Matias says when he’s done. I stay frozen in place, feeling defeated. He smacks my ass hard, making me yelp after the whipping he gave me.

“Get up and clean yourself off,” he orders. On shaky legs I rise. There’s a small grimy sink in the corner of the cell. I wet a rag and start wiping away the evidence of what he did.

Matias watches me with a smug smile, casually doing his pants back up. “That was round one,” he says. “I’ll be back for more soon.”

Dread washes over me. I know this is only the beginning of a nightmare I can’t wake up from. As long as I’m trapped here, Matias can use me however he wants. And when he comes in the night, there’s no one around to stop him.

3

GASTON

Istroll through the lavish entrance of Ileana Navarro’s mansion, an air of familiarity settling around me. The scent of expensive perfume and old money hangs heavily in the air, a testament to the kind of business conducted here. I can’t deny the sense of anticipation that stirs within me, a thrill I always feel when I step into Ileana’s world.

But I keep my expression impassive, being careful to hide my eagerness. No point in showing one’s cards too early in the game, after all. I’ve played this game before, and I know the rules all too well. The product I’m after isn’t exactly a common commodity.

Ileana greets me with a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with practiced coyness. She’s a shrewd businesswoman, knowing exactly how to appeal to her clients’ specific tastes. “Gaston, always a pleasure,” she purrs, extending a hand adorned in expensive jewelry. “I’ve got some new stock I think you’ll find enticing.”

I smirk at her. “No doubt they’ll be up to the usual standard. I was glad you called, the last purchase didn’t last as long as usual.”

Her eyes flash with sadistic glee. She no doubt believes I murder my girls once I’ve had enough of fucking them, but that’s not my style. Ileana’s language is always violence where as mine is business first and foremost. They work for me once I’m fed up with fucking them.

“Shall we have a drink?” She gestures toward the ornate dining room.

The table is set for three, meaning her right-hand man, Taren, will be joining us. A lavish feast awaits us; she always knows how to put on a show. I incline my head, following her into the room. The air is thick with the aroma of well-aged wine and roasted meats, a sensory experience designed to set one at ease and open the purse strings.

She pours a deep crimson liquid into two crystal glasses. The wine is undoubtedly one of her finest, another subtle aspect of her sales tactics. Accepting the glass, I swirl the wine around before lifting it toward her, “Salud.”

She clinks her glass against mine. “Salud.”

And then I bring the glass to my face an inhale, savoring the rich, full-bodied aroma before taking a sip.

“Have a seat,” Ileana says, gesturing at the table.

Complying, I sit down and find myself wondering what this “stock” is like that Illeana is so excited to show me. Hopefully nothing like the last ones otherwise this will be a wasted and disappointing trip. The last girl had no fire or spark, and that’s what I want. A girl who puts up a fight.

While my thoughts wander, the doors open and Taren strides in. He cuts an imposing figure at six foot three tall wearing a suit that doesn’t match as always. Although on this occasion the contrast is more subtle than others. He wears a pair of black suit pants and a gray suit jacket. The moment his eyes meet mine they flicker with recognition.“Gaston, what a surprise,” he greets, looking genuinely surprised by my presence. Illeana didn’t tell him I was coming.

Taren and Ileana’s relationship is weird, to say the least. She’s raised him since he was a kid after murdering his entire family in cold blood in Mexico City. But, I learned not so long ago that she also makes him sleep with her, something that I don’t condone. I may be dark, but she’s acted like his mother. She even makes him call her mother, but there’s one thing I’ve never been in denial of. Ileana Navarro is sick in the head.

Ileana flashes him a warning glance as he sits. “I told you we were having a guest,” she says.

Taren’s glare could cut through ice. “You didn’t say who, though, did you?” He tilts his head, staring at his boss, mother, and God knows what else. “You realize they’ve hardly started their training.”

That’s what I like to hear. I clap my hands together. “Perfect. You know I prefer a hands-on approach with my girls.” Often, their training breaks their spirit, and that’s not what I’m after.

Taren grits his teeth and nods. “Of course, Gaston. Whatever you say. Are we eating first, or do you wish to see the girls?” he asks, keeping his voice steady.

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