Page 243 of Bad for Me

Misha squeezes his eyes shut as he continues to stroke himself. I whisper to him, calling him every embarrassing pet name I can think of.Pet, boy, baby.

“Slut,” I say, loud enough for others to hear.

His eyes fly open, and he stares directly at me as his mouth widens and his entire body shudders.

I glance down, surprised at the reaction. Sure enough, the t-shirt has a very prominent wet spot on it now. I laugh, but the sound is ragged because the sight of it went straight to my own cock.

“Well then,” I say, trying to keep my voice cool but failing miserably. “Looks like the pup gets off on being humiliated. What do you think about that, Angelo?”

“I think I need to get home and choke somebody,” Angelo answers. He adjusts his jeans. “Do you need my help to get your new slave home? Otherwise, uh, I’m gonna race home to put this energy to good use.”

I snort. “I think I can get him home.” I hope I can, anyway. Otherwise, I’m going to be humiliated for not being able to keep one slave under control. “Misha here is going to be a good boy, aren’t you, Misha?”

Misha averts his gaze and doesn’t say anything. His face has turned a beautiful shade of red, though, telling me just how humiliated he is.

Yeah. He’s going to be a very, very good boy for me.

2

MISHA

Fuck.

I should be working out a plan to escape, but my mind is consumed with the aftermath of that scene.

No, not a scene. It wasn’t consensual, and there weren’t any rules. Raul Pierino isn’t a dom. He’s a slaver, one of the worst kinds of people. He gets off on torturing and humiliating non-consenting people. I know for a fact that not everybody who’d been in the back with me was an adult either. That should be enough to get me to pull myself together.

But I’m not closer to figuring out what to do by the time we get to his mansion. He was smart enough to cuff my hands behind my back, as well as chaining my legs together so I can’t run.

I have to admit, I’m surprised he takes me into his kitchen, though. I’m wearing nothing but the t-shirt, leaving my cock and balls on display.

Two other men are standing there, chatting, while a topless woman busies herself with cleaning the counter and stove. Though she’s wearing a pair of pants that hide the cuffs themselves, I can see the chain between them.

Another slave.

“Dad, Danilo,” Raul greets them.

I recognize the two men from our files on the Pierino family, and I know they’re as nasty as it gets. If they knew my secret…

I’d be more than fucked.

Carlo Pierino glances over at me, scowling. “What the fuck, Raul? When I said you could pick one for yourself, I meant a pretty young girl. Fuck, a pretty youngboyif you insisted on that.”

Raul’s face scrunches up in distaste, which is a relief to see. Being a slaver is bad enough, but being a pedophile is even worse. “I wanted this one,” he says with a stubborn tilt of his chin. “Don’t worry. I paid for him. No one else wanted him anyway. He’s toooldfor our usual clientele.”

Carlo makes an annoyed sound. “Fine, whatever. I know I can’t expect you to have reasonable tastes.” He turns to the woman cleaning. “Fifi, stop over-polishing the stove and bend over the kitchen table.”

Fifi, like she’s a dog. I do my best to suppress my disgust. The woman flinches but nods quickly, moving as fast as she can in the chains to bend over the table.

Danilo laughs at that. “I guess that’s my cue. Rachel will have a fit if she thinks I watched another woman getting fucked.”

Not to mention that the one doing the fucking would be his father. If memory serves, Rachel is Danilo’s wife. There’s no indication she’s involved at all with the family business, but I have a hard time believing anybody could be completely ignorant of this blatant abuse of human rights.

“And I’m not watching Dad fuck anyone,” Raul says, making a face. “You two have fun.” He yanks on my chain, pulling me toward a door across the room before glancing back at Fifi. “Oh, bring us some dinner when you’re finished. I’m hungry.”

“Yes, sir,” she says meekly, pulling down her pants to expose her ass to themasterof the house.

She’s not wearing panties, but that’s as much as I see before I look away.

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