Vanessa It's approaching 2am and Diego still hasn't returned yet. Alicia came back around midnight, and we ate dinner together before she went to bed. She shared stories about the wealthy, attractive men she saw at the club, and she even checked out the viewing room and watched a couple have sex. She seems content with working in the club instead of repulsed, which would be a normal response, but I guess we're way past that now. I didn't tell her what happened to me during my "punishment". I was too ashamed, mostly because I enjoyed it up until Diego made Danny stop. How can I criticize her actions when I'm equally disgusted by my own behavior? Dad would be so disappointed in the whores we have become in just two days. He wanted us to save our innocence for when we got married. Although, I do wonder now how that would have happened when he never let us leave the house. A part of my innocence was stolen last night, but I'm going to make sure the rest of it stays intact. Diego w
Vanessa I grit my teeth while undoing the buttons of his shirt. A string of curses race through my mind, tempting me to unleash them. As if he wants to torment me more, he says, "Keep your eyes on me," as he tilts my chin upward to meet his gaze. The iciness of my expression mirrors in his eyes. This feels like some sort of power play, given that I can't see what I'm doing, and my hands are at risk of touching anything. My hands trail down his abs as I release the final buttons, pushing the shirt off his taut shoulders. He bites his lip, his eyes deepening, hooded with lust. His predatory gaze sends a shiver down my spine, but I remain focused on the task at hand. I can't help but wonder how he was okay with another man touching me. Yesterday, he said I was his and even threatened to chop off anyone's hands who even dares to try it, yet he let Danny lick me like melting ice cream. I doubt his reasoning will make sense, but I decide to ask anyway. "I thought you didn't share
Vanessa The next morning, the weight of exhaustion tugs at every limb, making the simple act of rising from the bed a slow, deliberate process. Sometime between crying and tossing and turning last night, I finally fell asleep. Maybe that's why I didn't wake when Diego got up; he's nowhere to be found now. I assume he's in the kitchen or something. My eyes feel sore and puffy as I drag myself to the large, ridiculously unnecessary walk-in shower. In a daze, I scrub my body with the strawberry-scented body wash, I assume was bought just for me, until my skin feels raw. I stand underneath the scalding water until the knots of tension in my muscles begin to dissolve, letting the warmth wash away the remnants of the restless night. Afterwards, I throw on the tank top and shorts I set aside in the bathroom beforehand to ensure there's no chance in hell Diego will see me naked again. When I return to the room, I find Danny seated in the chair tucked into the corner, hidden within the
Vanessa "He cannot be serious!" I exclaim aloud. My hands tremble as I scroll through the list again, the weight of each absurd demand sinking in. Birth control? Brazilian wax? Locking me up like some unruly child? The audacity of his control over every aspect of my life pisses me the fuck off. Maybe instead of trying to escape, I should just kill him and save the next woman this cruel fate! Although I'm not hungry, Danny makes sure I eat some fruit and take the birth control pills. I don't know what the purpose of that is, since I'll never willingly have sex with Diego, but whatever. It is in the contract. As I mechanically chew on a piece of fruit, my mind wanders to the absurdity of the situation. The taste in my mouth is bitter, matching my emotions. There's an entire home theatre downstairs, so I spend the rest of the morning watching Fruits Basket (the 2019 reboot). The vibrant animation and whimsical characters offer a temporary escape from my fucked up reality. Danny sit
Vanessa Like I predicted, my week on punishment goes by at an agonizingly slow pace. Danny's a dick to me any chance he gets, smothering me with his overbearing presence throughout the day, as if I might miraculously uncover a way to escape from this hellhole. When Diego returns home at the earliest hours of the morning, fatigue mercifully robs him of the energy to demand anything beyond the removal of his clothes to sleep. So, nothing else has happened between us. Not that I was hoping it would. It seems as long as I adhere to his rules, he'll leave me alone, and I haven't given him a reason to punish me again. After Diego falls into a deep sleep, sneaking out of the room becomes my nightly routine when I can't sleep myself. I usually hang out with Alicia or chat with the other men while they lounge around and drink. I've discovered that all of them are related in some way, except for Leo who is Diego's childhood best friend from an allied clan. That explains why his features
VanessaOver the next two hours, we move from store to store, interacting with the owners and exploring racks of designer clothing that stand like sentinels. The richness of colors and fabrics feels almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the limited wardrobe I've grown up with. At first, I didn't want to get anything, considering the outrageous prices on the tags, but then Diego just sat tapping his foot until I picked something up. And then I kind of just went crazy and started trying on and picking out what I liked. Surprisingly, I thought Diego would've gotten bored this whole time and pull out his phone or something, but he watches me with interest, as if he wants to see my clothing preferences for himself. We're in the last store of the day, since Diego said we had to go soon. I'm just glad to finally have some clothes that I picked out myself since he controls every other aspect of my life. As the elderly woman, Ms. Garcia, delicately bags my clothes, she stares at my neck
VanessaThere's no way he could keep a promise like that, but I still believe him because what other choice do I have? I guess this is the day my captor becomes my protector. I shriek as the door swings open, announcing an unwelcome visitor. Diego reacts instantly, covering my mouth with a strong, calloused hand, his eyes delivering a stern warning. A chill runs down my spine, a shiver of fear amplified by the gravity in his gaze. The Russian intruder's voice, thick with a menacing accent, cuts through the tense silence. "Come out, Diego. I know you have what belongs to us," he taunts. "Just hand her over, and we won't have to kill more of your men." His voice is like shards of ice scraping against my body, sending shivers through every fiber of my being. They're here for...me? Diego and I share the same look of confusion. And if he's confused, I know I'm truly fucked. He has no fucking business not knowing what's going on right now! Trepidation wraps around me like a su
Diego Leo and I are both in the cold, soundproof basement covered in blood from head to toe, exhausted from our tedious labor. It has been three days since we were targeted and the stubborn motherfucker we captured still refuses to talk. The man I'm standing before is strapped in a metal chair naked, surrounded in his own urine. The mixture of fresh and dried blood adorns his battered body, a canvas painted with the various wounds we've inflicted upon him. Groans of pain escape his cracked lips, echoing deliciously throughout the dimly lit room. Torturing people isn't exactly my favorite part of the job. I prefer to shoot and keep it moving, but the Russians tried to take what is mine and they will pay. One at a fucking time until the entire clan is dead. Until they are wiped out of Nevada. Leo slumps back in his chair, lighting up a cigar. His countenance is cold and indifferent as usual. "Diego, let's just kill the miserable bastard. If we haven't broken him by now, it's not