Chapter 3: Beautiful Sibelle

The Royal Eagle

I go to my room to take a quick shower, then I head to my office with that image, that face still in my mind.

I find Mario focused on pending files:

- Are you sure "the dead one" accepted the gift, that there won't be any repercussions?

- No, everything is fine, we talked, everything is back to normal.

- What do you think of "the Bloodthirsty" proposal? (the Bloodthirsty is the head of the American mafia).

- I think he needs to raise his price; you know this new drug will be very sought after in a few months, and he wants to have the monopoly on resale. You know that in a bidding process, it's the highest bidder who wins. But he doesn't want competition in this market and doesn't want to stretch his arm.

- You didn't talk to "the dead one" (the head of the Italian mafia)?

- No, those two are too impulsive and arrogant; they're capable of having a competition over who has the biggest.

- Like you? In fact.

- He will be here in two weeks to see the product and test it.

I take my phone to look at the photos of the young girl again; she is beautiful, very beautiful, awakening something in me that I cannot describe—my mamia, that voluptuous chest, that flat belly contrasting with those wide hips and those buttocks that call to be whipped, I swallow my saliva.

Well, I need to go; it's time.

- We still have a bit of time, you know.

- Don't you have someone else to haul? I'm waiting for you in the car.

I leave my office, walk down the corridor to the elevator to go to the third floor because my mansion has five floors divided as follows: the first is for the servants and the third-rank guards, the second floor is for the kitchen, laundry, and game room, the third floor is for my two mistresses, the fourth floor is for my office with several offices and a ballroom for parties.

The fifth floor is my anchor, my bedroom; no one goes in there but me, not even my mistresses. During the cleaning, I am present until it finishes. I lock the floor; it can only be accessed with my fingerprint.

The space on the third floor is divided into two parts for each mistress, with "Aïcha" (an Arab woman I brought back from a trip to Morocco) on the left and "Jennifer," whom I brought from the United States, on the right.

I enter Aïcha's suite, who has just come out of the shower and comes to kiss my feet as a greeting:

- Welcome, master.

I lift her up and give her a kiss on the forehead.

- How are you? I say as I make her sit on my foot, exposing her beautiful breasts, which I start to caress; she closes her eyes and replies:

- I'm fine, master, except I missed you a lot.

I squeeze her breasts, pinching her nipples; she moans. I replace my fingers with my lips, biting and tugging at her nipples.

- Yes, master, please don't stop.

I push her onto the bed: she turns her back to me, thighs apart, buttocks in the air; I catch a glimpse of her rear, her shaved pussy glistening with her desire to be fucked. I take a condom from the drawer, quickly put it on, and brutally penetrate her; she screams, gripping the sheet.

I thrust wildly, she cries out in pleasure, and I give her a good spanking:

- Shut up, I don't want to hear you.

- Forgive me, master.

I continue to fuck her, and the image of that girl comes back to my mind; I push her head into the pillow, give her several spankings; she whimpers, I imagine it’s this stranger I’m fucking, I close my eyes and imagine her big buttocks in my hands; I sink deeper into her slit and ejaculate. Then I quickly pull out before going to clean myself in the shower and throw the condom filled with my cum, and I exit without giving her a glance. I don’t care whether she came or not; I’m not in the mood for that today. I need to see her as soon as possible.

I get into the vehicle and find Mario already settled.

- I thought you were in a hurry; where were you? Did you go to get a quick lay?

- Why ask me the question if you already know the answer?

- You’ll never change.

- What? They are there for that, to serve me when I want. I’m not telling you anything new.

- I know, but you know you’re not getting any younger; think about giving heirs to the crown.

- If I have no heirs, yours will be there.

- Oh no, don’t even think about it; my children will never lead a mafia; it’s too risky, too dangerous; they won’t serve as bait for the vultures.

- So, I’m bait for the vultures? And why don’t I see them?

- Because they fear you too much.

We arrive at the tavern (the name given to one of my buildings that includes a hotel, two bars (one with strippers and the other for karaoke fans), and a brothel where auctions take place.

I enter, followed by Mario.

- Good evening, sir, says a hostess.

The baroness arrives (the manager of my brothel; she is in her thirties, she was a prostitute before rising in rank; she is very strict in her work and sends us very beautiful specimens).

- Welcome, gentlemen.

She seats us in my office, serves us drinks; she knows our tastes.

- Bring in the new ones, I say.

She leaves and returns with 18 young girls, but there’s only one who interests me. I search for her in the crowd and see her hiding behind another, scared:

- Why is she so afraid? Come here, my beautiful.

She approaches, tears in her eyes:

- What’s your name? And why are you crying?

- I... I...

She looks at me and bursts into tears.

- Don’t cry; tell me what’s going on?

I see everyone holding their breath; they are surprised to see me so compassionate, so am I, actually.

- My name is Sibelle,

- Beautiful Sibelle, hum...

- I was kidnapped with my friend.

- What?