Page 60 of If You Go
"Sir," she gasps, her voice breaking as I feel her body's resistance—that delicious tension of muscle fighting against intrusion. Sobs breaking free from her throat, she looks back at me with tears dropping from her fake eyelashes. "Sir, please stop," she begs through ragged breaths, each desperate plea sending electric currents of excitement through my veins, hardening me further inside her. She must be able to feel it because her screams renew almost instantly. I respond by gripping her hips harder, leaving crescent-shaped indentations from my own nails as I increase my pace. Through the privacy partition, I hear my driver's knowing chuckle. He's heard this symphony before. He knows precisely how I savor this moment.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch and hold still. Stop scratching me. You will take my cock up your slutty little ass hole, or ye’ll be sent to swim with the fishes. What’s it gonna be, then?” I say all of this with labored breath as I continue to fuck into her. She stops screaming but I can still hear her whimpering and painful moans. I grab her wrists and put her hands behind her back, using them as a hold to fuck her deeper.
“We’re here, sir,” my driver says as I feel him turn and then park the car.
“Good, open the door ‘n let the men see the little hoor I brought them today as I finish,” I say between heavy breaths and gritted teeth.
“Very good, sir.”
The back hatch opens, and the seats fold backward so that the view of her crying face is in full view of all my men as they come out of the warehouse. Callie is crying again, but not struggling anymore, which nearly ruins my enjoyment. I yank her arms up her back a bit, causing her to cry out, which helps. I thrust into her a few more times, my dick going in and out of her abused ass, and blow my load deep inside of her. I unceremoniously pull out of her seeing blood stains along the sides, before using her skirt to wipe myself clean, and put my dick back in my pants.
“Thank you, Callie. The men will see to the rest of your pleasure now. Boys,make sure she’s fit to work at the office tomorrow and that she gets home in one piece. Don’t fail me.” I say the last part to my driver. He will get his turn when he takes her home, that’s always been the ritual. Although he likes to be a little more civil. He will take care of her, pretend he gives a single fuck about her. News flash—he doesn’t. Then once she’s asleep he will tie her to the bed and cut her clothes off with a knife, and fuck her until she wakes. That’s how he likes them. Shocked, surprised, and scared. I only hire men who can appreciate women the way I do. I have been very lucky to find the men I have that now belong to my inner sanctum.
Once I am fully redressed, I grab my briefcase and hop out of the SUV and walk to the warehouse where I know the rest of my inner circle is waiting for me all the while listening to Callie scream from the car I just left her in with five men. The warehouse is just that, an old abandoned warehouse outside of downtown. It is over in the district where the football stadium is. It’s the bad part of town, which helps keep all my dealings quiet.
I step into the front doors of the dilapidated building and feel as though I have entered another dimension. The warehouse is falling apart outside, or so we want you to think. Inside looks as if you walked into a spaceship from a sci-fi movie. There arescreens up on one of the tall walls, about twenty of them. They are connected to cameras all throughout my holdings, as well as some public cameras to keep watch, such as the docks down where Surry is supposed to arrive. Beneath them is a chair, in it is Surry’s maid, Bridget. She looks a little worse for wear. But she won’t be getting out of here alive regardless.
“Hello, sir, we haven’t seen her arrive at the port yet. We also aren’t sure where she will come in, or how. So we will continue watching.” I nod at them and go to my office to set my things down. Once my coat, briefcase, and hat are put away, I go into my private bathroom to change. I don’t like to get dirty in my work clothes. I change into a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a plain white t-shirt. I like to see all the blood spatter, so I wear light colored clothing.
Before I go out to see the men and our newest guest, I decide to go see the most recent resident of the warehouse following my overthrowing of the Russian mafia. The Bratva. Dear Natasha, she has a nice pussy. Today I will have her take a pregnancy test, see if I’m going to be the daddy of the new Russian Mafia leader. I head down the hall to do just that.
“Ah, hello, love. How are ye this fine evenin’? Comfortable, are ya? They’ve been feedin’ ya on time, I hope?” I enter the code to the door and walk into her…bedroom? Cell? Eh, same difference. It’s more comfortable than a normal prisoner would get.
Natasha doesn’t move, look at me, or make a single sound. She knows better. She just lies on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Up ye get, Natasha. Pee in the cup for me now—aye, that’s it. Good girl.” I grab her arm and pull her to a standing position, and then walk her to the bathroom.
“Take this,” I hand her a medical urine collection cup, “pee in this cup.” She grabbed the cup, and we walked together to the toilet. She lifts her dress up, and places the cup under her tocatch her urine. “Good girl, Natasha.” She fills the cup up, and then hands it back to me, finishes her business, and then stands to wash her hands. Once she is finished, she walks back to the room and gets back onto the bed, face up, staring at the ceiling. She immediately parts her thighs, leaving her pussy on display; she knows what will be taking place with my arrival, smart girl. I take my time, and place the pregnancy test into her urine, count to ten, and then place it on the counter and set a three-minute timer. This gives me time to go use Natasha as she was intended to be used.
“Ah, my sweet Natasha. When would ya like t’ be wed, then? We’re needing t’ marry soon, love—can’t have my child called a bastard, now can we?”
Natasha turns her head and looks at me, “How will you know it’s yours? I have different men inside me every hour. There’s no way to tell without a blood test.”
“Ah, Natasha, ye forget—I don’t give a shite what anyone says or feels. That child’s mine, no question. So tell me, would ye like a fall or winter weddin’? Or hell, we could find a justice o’ the peace an’ have ourselves a summer weddin’ tomorrow, if ye fancy it. Summer’s nearly gone, but there’s still time for a lovely day outdoors.”I give her a nasty grin, knowing she is not happy with this arrangement. But I don’t give a fuck.
“Lift your skirt more and show me the best part of you, Natasha.” I unzip my pants and walk toward her. She does as she is bidden, pulling the dress over her breasts so that I can have a good view of them as well, and I climb on top of her, entering her in one swift motion. “If my son isn’t in you yet, he will be soon,” I say between thrusts. “I say we have a fall weddin’, so I can make sure ye’re knocked up beforehand — I won’t be weddin’ a woman who’s unsuit-.” I feel something on my dick, something sharp. “The fuck is that?” Natasha feigns innocence.
“What the actual fuck is that, inside your pussy, Natasha?” I roar at her, my dick still buried within her. At this, she gives me the grin of a Cheshire cat.
“I can’t be pregnant, I have an IUD, m???? (ass hole).” This. Bitch.
I pull out of her and put my face to her pussy, and reach my fingers inside, stretching her until I can fit my four fingers inside her, feeling around until I can grab the string I know is inside her. Natasha begins to scream, but it’s too late. Her legs are kicking and she is thrashing around, but I grab the string with one hand and use my free hand to push down on her stomach so she can’t get away.
Once I have a firm grasp, I rip it out of her. With a wicked grin on my face I hold it up for her to see, returning her evil smile tenfold. She is screaming and crying now. I am positive that didn’t feel good. I just simply don’t give a fuck.
“You will give me a son, Natasha,”I say between labored breaths. I look down and see the blood on the sheets. Someone will need to clean this up once I’m done. Can’t have the mother of my child sleeping in blood. I reenter her and continue fucking her, hoping that the effects of the IUD will be instantly reversed. If not, she will learn her lesson. Natasha continues to hit me, causing my dick to slip out, and screams at me in Russian, which I understand none of. Too bad for her. I shove my dick back inside of her, despite her efforts to close her legs. I continue thrusting until I finish and empty my entire load right onto her swollen cervix. Hopefully, some of that will make it into her womb so that next time I give her a test, she will be filled with my son.
I hop up and put my now soft dick back into my boxers, and zip my pants back up. Natasha lay there crying, rolled over, still bleeding. I walk into the bathroom, see the test is negative, andbegin to clean up, anger flooding me. I flush her urine down the toilet and throw away the cup and the pregnancy test.
“Okay, I’ll see ya tomorrow, my love,” I tell her as I walk out, locking the door with the code behind me. The bitch won’t be leaving this room until my son is born. And then she will be moved to her plot in my family's cemetery.
I walk out of the hallway that leads to Natasha’s room and into the large main room where my men and my captive wait for me.
“Hello, Bridget. How’re you? Been a long time.” I address her as I walk out of my office, holding a towel in my hand, and walk toward where she is tied up. Her left eye is swollen shut, and her clothes are torn.
She looks up at me through her one good eye, and when I get close to her, she spits in my direction.
I click my tongue at her, and laugh. Although I don’t think it’s a pleasant sound. Most of my men’s shoulders rise up toward their ears when they hear it. Once I am right in front of her, I backhand her across the face.
