Saints of the Syndicate by Natalie Nicole
Chapter 12
Giovanni
Glancing at Declan as Sinclair nods to the junior members in allowing them to dress us, we share an all too fucking knowing look. Sinclair will be shedding blood tonight. There is no controlling him when he gets this way.
Just let it fucking happen.
The pledges better be prepared for what’s to come. Other than the ridiculous process of even being considered as a member, let alone the even more insane process of being accepted into the folds.This, this is the true test.
Do you really have what it takes to become a part of this soul sucking society? The constant secrecy, lies, manipulation, illegal acts and more?
Can you fucking kill someone that has crossed you wrongfully? Can you really stand there, slit their throat for their crime, and come out of it without killing yourself in the process?
If so, welcome to fucking hell. Welcome to The Trident. You signed your death wish the moment a person’s blood starts spewing from their jugular. Yes, the connections and lifestyle is even better than you’ve ever experienced, regardless of your wealth status. But your soul is eternally damned for the rest of your days.
You also acknowledge that if you cannot go through with the process of cold blooded murder, you will be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your damn life. Try and outsmart us, we dare you. Give us a reason to drag you back kicking, screaming, crying, and pissing your pants to our sacrificial room. We will make a mockery of you. We will torture you until you are begging for death. That’s the price you pay for speaking of us. For trying to bring us out of the shadows.
Most that don’t pass the final test, eventually end up dead at our hands in one way or another. Declan, Sinclair and myself are all numb to it. As much as we are obstinate assholes that take no shit from anyone, we are also horrifically groomed to this. We had no choice. Either become numb to the shit or be six feet under because the leeches didn’t raise pussies.
Fathers of the year? Yeah, not a chance.
More like cynical, borderline psychotic tyrants of the year.
As we stride into the induction room, a frigid chill settles over us. It’s like the souls that have perished here never leave. Since their ominous souls cannot cross over into the afterlife, they run amuck in here.
We settle into our chairs on the podium, our weapons of choice sitting next to our chairs. The platform above us already has our fathers sitting there, waiting for their grand gesture bullshit speech to all. Five bodies in front of us are kneeling on the ground. There are black cases over their heads, while their wrists shackled and attached to metal rings bolted into the stone flooring. The five pledges all stand behind them, all with facial expressions ranging from cool and collected to downright terrified. It’s comical as fuck, and takes everything in me to remain stoic, regardless of the mask.
I haven’t even got my hands fully on Bethani yet, much less my dick inside her, so I’ll take ‘Staying professional and keeping my life for another day’ for $500.
And of course, thinking about sticking my dick inside Bethani has the bastard back to full attention. Down you pre-teen bastard, we do not have time for this. Thank fuck for the robes, otherwise I’d be looking like a 15 year old seeing tits for the first time.
My father starts speaking first, bringing my focus back to the present, and knocking my dick back down to normal due to the realization that it’s not getting any action right now.
“Welcome to your final test, gentlemen. This is your last chance to prove to us if you are committed and worthy to us. You have been vaguely briefed. Do you all acknowledge the consequences if you so happen to fail?” He stops while the pledges all nod their heads and collectively say “Yes,Master” in unison. “Excellent. Gentlemen, I pass the torch to my fellow brother to explain the induction process.” And with that I can hear him sit back down as Declan’s dad stands to explain. Same shit different day.
“Your final test. You see in front of you a person kneeling in submission. Do you boys all remember the questionnaire where we asked who you hated with unrequited passion?” They all nod. “Well, who you have before you is that person.”
Their eyes all go wide as saucers as understanding slowly crossing their features. Robert motions to someone, and they walk over with a covered serving platter. Then open the lid to reveal 5 knives.
“Each of you will take a knife from the plate, announce your name, and then the person’s name kneeling before you. After that, you will tell us why you despise the person so much, then you can either take the bag off to face the person or leave it on. It doesn’t matter either way. Either way, you will end their life. If you pass, you will be welcomed into the brotherhood. If not, let’s just hope you don’t have loose lips.” He stops, obviously doing the same thing we are gauging their reactions, and wondering who is strong enough and who isn’t. “Who would like to go first?”
The one kid I notice, the shortest of them all, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath then opens his eyes. “I will Master Carter.”
“Name, boy,” my father instantly demands from right behind me. He’s probably irritated at the kid for showing initiative. Typical.
The kid steels himself a little, good for you kid, before answering. “Alfonso Berchelli, Master Martinelli.”
Ahh, that makes sense. His family is a bunch of weasels in the ‘cheese business’. Basically importing cheese from Italy, with a notorious history of drug smuggling in the process along with other illegal ventures. Sitting here watching the cowardice rolling off him in waves, I’m wondering what could rattle a person in his family.
“State the person you hate below you, and the reasoning for said hate.”
“The person I hate is none other than my Uncle Roman Berchelli. The reason for said hate...he raped my sister. She killed herself last year at only 14. No one believed us over him.” A tear rolls down his cheek, breaking through his attempt to be ruthless like the rest of us.
Glancing through the mask, I see Sinclair’s and Declan’s white knuckle approach the same as mine. This sick fuck raped his 14 year old niece? If whatever-his-name doesn’t kill him, Sinclair is definitely in the mood to step up to the plate, along with Declan and myself.
“Your reason is valid.” With a snap of one of their fingers, another lower member walks over with a tray holding a knife for him. “Take the knife, uncover his face if you so wish, then dispose of him.”
The kid shakily grabs the knife, pulls off the sack on his uncle's head, and then steps around to face him. Roman sneers at his nephew, then spits on his feet.
“Fuck you, you little traitor. I fucking told you your time was coming next. That little bitch sister of yours asked for every damn thing I did to her. Dirty little whore, just like her queer older brother.” He laughs manically. “My brother raised the weakest little punks ever. Disgrace.”
The kid stands there, taking the shit and not moving. He’s almost petrified facing him. Finally, after a few moments, he strikes. A single deep slice across his face. It’s enough to make the man swear in English and Italian, but he still throws insults in the process. As the kid stands there, shaking like a wilted leaf, Sinclair must have decided that this kid didn’t have the gall to actually go through with it.
He quickly stands up, walks down the stone steps, snatches the knife from Alfonso, and then violently thrusts the knife into the man's dick, making him scream out in excruciating pain. Sinclair gets off on this shit. Fuck, to some degree we all do. After torturing and killing the bastard that aided in my mother’s death, I got back to the penthouse and fucked Declan for three hours. The high is unbelievable when serving our own fucked up form of vigilante justice.
As Roman is still withering in pain, Sinclair steps around behind him, grabbing his hair and wrenching his head back at an odd angle to face him.
“Sick fuck. Your own mother fucking niece? I’ll fucking show you just a taste of what you deserve.” Then Sinclair shoves him back forward before leaning down and shoving the knife as hard as he can straight into Roman’s asshole. Then he twists the knife around, shredding his anal cavity into dust as the screams pour from Roman. “You deserve much worse than this you twisted, demented bastard.” Through the strangled cries, Roman spits a “fuck you” at Sinclair. I just laugh.
Wrong thing to say cunt bag.
Deep psychotic laughter comes from Sin as I feel our fathers inching closer to our chairs in front of them.
“Far enough, Sinclair. Finish him so we can move on.” His father’s demanding words silence him temporarily.
Slowly Sin takes his mask off, and his eyes are demonic looking. They look almost pitch black because of how blown they are from being under the mask. He grabs Roman’s head again, and easily tilts it back as the blood loss has finally immobilized him a bit.
“You want this pervert gone? Fine.” And with that, he slashes the bastard's neck from ear to ear. It’s deep enough that he almost decapitates him as the blood pours from his jugular, pooling all around him.
Sin’s breathing is labored from the adrenaline and alcohol, which fuels his actions, but the tinge of exhaustion is there. Handing the knife back to Alfonso he states. “You were never cut for this shit. Get the fuck out, and never speak of us again, or I’ll fucking hunt you down myself and do worse than that to you.”
Then Sin walks the fuck out, leaving a room of shell shocked initiates all trying not to vomit or pass out. I stand up, Declan following suit, and we walk down the stairs.
As I pause at the body, I take my mask off and look at the other initiates. “If you can’t do that.” I point at Roman’s body. “Walk your bitch asses out now. The same offer Sinclair offered Alfonso here stands for your prissy rich boy selves too. Don’t fuck with the Trident. We will find you. We will end you. Choice is yours.”
We walk out at the dismay of our fathers and can hear them cursing us from here to Mars and back as we walk out of a mandated event. I flip a one-fingered salute in retaliation, knowing that soon enough our grandfathers will be here to settle some scores and bring order back to the chaos our fathers created.
“Think he is gonna lock himself in his room after that?” Declan’s voice spears through my thoughts.
I shrug as we walk towards the elevator. “Who fucking knows? He has no discernable pattern when he is that far gone and then gets to act on the urge.” I pause as D presses the button, and I check the locator app. “Says he is in the gym showers right now. If he actually stays down there, I’ll be highly surprised.” The doors open as we step inside. I shove my phone back into my pocket, over tonight. Groaning, I pinch the bridge of my nose in between my fingers. “Should we check on him or leave him alone?”
When Declan doesn’t immediately answer, I open my eyes slightly to see a smug as shit grin on his face.
“What?”
He stays silent, but flips the kill switch to stop the elevator. “On your knees, G. Don’t worry about him. All you need to focus on right now is sucking my dick long enough to forget shit for a minute before I sink deep into that tight ass of yours and fuck you into oblivion.”
My dick instantly stands to aching steel in my suit, threatening to bust the goddamn zipper apart. I like being in control during sex, but fuck if submitting to Declan on occasion isn’t one of the biggest turn-on’s ever. Slowly, I sink to my knees, then reach for my belt to release my cock, hoping to relieve some of the ache. He tuts, steps directly in front of me, and uses one of his feet to stop my movements before he kneels in front of me.
“Did I say you could do that?”
I gulp at that gravely, deep, authoritative tone in his voice, my libido ramping up even more.
“No sir.”
“That’s what I thought.” Standing back up, he quickly removes his tie. “Hands behind your back.” I fight his demand for submission for a second, but then give in. Declan can be a teasing cock munch when he wants to. Last time I disobeyed his order, the fucker teased and tortured me for 3 weeks. But holy shit if that orgasm wasn’t perfection when it finally happened.
With a devilish smirk, Deck is pulling his 9 inch throbbing dick out of his boxers. It’s already dripping with precum, and that has me salivating. I lick my lips, ready and willing for him to shove it deep down my throat.
“You gonna be a good boy and take this cock deep down that willing throat of yours? Are you going to be a good little fuck toy for me?”
Fuckkk…his filthy mouth makes my already strained cock pulse even more. Like I said, I relish being in control in the bedroom. But this deviant somehow flips the tables on me, turning me into his willing submissive like it’s nothing.
“Of course. Now move closer so I can suck your already dripping cock, sir.”
That has his nostrils flaring, both at my smart ass remark and the fact that he knows I can deep throat his ass better than any of the sluts that have crossed his willing and eager path. I quickly open my mouth and stick out my tongue, the silver of my tongue ring flashing in the light of the elevator. Declan’s eyes flash in remembrance of what that tongue ring does to him.
“Goddamnit,” he growls, then steps forward to grab my hair and shoves his dick down my throat.
I groan as the taste of him hits my tongue, it's almost an aphrodisiac in and of itself. The vibrations of my groan reverberate up his cock, making him shiver.
“Fucking hell G.”
I smile while his dick is lodged down my mouth, thrilled at the reactions I can pull from him. His grip on my hair tightens as he starts slowly thrusting back and forth, going deeper and deeper down until he is seated fully down my throat and my nose is pressed against his stomach. As he starts to pull back out, I suck as hard as I can while wiggling my tongue around the underside of his cock. Both the suction against him pulling out and the sensation of the barbell in my tongue has him slamming his free hand into the elevator wall behind me, slightly catching me off guard and making me lose some of the suction in the process.
When he pulls almost all the way out, I start swirling my tongue around his dick, moaning at the glorious feeling of his erection in my mouth. I slow the swirling of my tongue down just enough to catch my ring against his dick piercing, eliciting a throaty moan from Declan, followed by a series of expletives.
We repeat the process for a few more minutes before he unexpectedly pulls out of my mouth with a wet pop from my drenched lips. Both of us are breathing heavily, and I’m ready to fuck him up over stopping when he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a condom and travel lube container.
“Stand. Up. Now,” Deck demands through his heaving breathing. He’s either ready to snap or come, I’m not sure of which.
“Mind untying me so I don’t fall on my face?”
He chuckles. “You already did. I’m not fucking stupid.”
Shit...thought I was sneakier than that. Guess not. As I pull my hands from behind my back I quickly stand up.
“True.Just thought you didn’t notice for once.”
“Nice try G. You may know how to suck my dick like a damn Hoover and make my eyes roll back into my head, but I’m still paying attention. Now turn around. Hands on the wall.”
I smirk. “Yes sir.” Then turn around and put my hands on the wall like he asks.
I feel him slowly walking up behind me. His hot breath on the back of my neck sends shivers down my spine as his hand reaches around to undo my belt and zipper. He’s a lot slower than I want, but I don’t say shit. As my pants hit the ground, his right hand grazes along the top of my boxer briefs, just enough to turn me on and piss me off at the same time. I already know this is payback. For what? The list is continuous. Ever so slowly his hand inches its way farther and father in, and my dick pulsing so damn hard it’s leaking with anticipation. I damn near come on the fucking spot when Declan’s giant ass hand finally encases my cock and starts stroking it with the perfect amount of pressure.
“Shit Declan. Fuck that feels good.”
“Oh it’s gonna feel a hell of a lot better here in a second,” he says as he releases my cock and quickly shoves my boxer briefs down. Yet again, I’m ready to stab his ass because my sanity is a tight rope ready to snap over the sexual frustration from today. When I hear the condom wrapper rip open, I’m damn near delirious. And when I hear the lube packet rip open, I know it isn’t long until this god awful tension will melt away.
Just as quick as Declan releases of my dick, one hand is back on it and the other is lining his cock up between my ass cheeks. The slightly cold lube catches me off guard.
“Fuck man, warm that shit up better next time. Christ!”
As his dick lines up with my glory hole, all coherent thoughts fly out the window. The pressure of his dick against my ass, his hand wrapped around my cock, and the newest sensation of his hand around my neck, makes mind is completely blank. Fuck, I’m struggling to remember I need oxygen in my lungs. Thank fuck Declan reminds me, but I’m already on sensory overload, and we haven’t even got to the best part.
“Breathe, Gio. Can’t have you passing out before the grand finale.”
As I’m inhaling much needed oxygen into my lungs, Declan’s hand tightens around my cock, and in one hard, deep thrust, he is fully seated inside me.
“Fuckkkkkk,” I moan while clenching around his dick, causing grunting noises from him.
He’s most likely trying to contain himself so he doesn’t blow in 2.5 seconds. I’m already so far fucking gone between the dirty demanding talk, him down my throat, and the teasing, that I literally don’t give a rat’s ass how long this lasts. Through clenched teeth, I take back some of the control.
“Declan, so help me if you don’t fuck me hard and fast I’m going to…” My words die as he pulls almost all the way out and slams his dick back into me while taking his lubed hand and jerking me off.
My hands are clenched against the elevator, knuckles white as fuck as Declan continues with his punishing thrusts in and out of my ass all while simultaneously keeping pressure on my dick with the up and down motions. How the fuck he can multi task so fantastically during sex, but can’t walk and talk other times is mind blowing. Currently? Thank fuck he can do both like a champ, because I’m damn near ready to explode.
“Declan…” I moan.
“Fucking come Giovanni. NOW!” he demands, then bites down where my neck and shoulder meet and flicks my apadravya piercing on my dick at the same time.
The sensations rocket through my body and I’m...just…fucking...gone. My orgasm smashes into me like a fucking dump truck. My head falls back into Declan’s shoulder as a guttural groan falls from my lips. My dick seizes up as ropes of cum hit the elevator walls and floor. My ass muscles clutch Declan’s cock and he thrusts into me a final time before I feel his body tense up. His cock pulses into the condom as he moans into my neck, the pleasure terrorizing his body with as much force as my orgasm did to me.
After a few minutes, our bodies finally regain some control, and we are able to somewhat coherently pull ourselves away from each other. Our bodies are sweaty giant heaps of ‘I just had cock-tastically phenomenal sex, so fuck off if you think I’m going to function correctly’ and neither of us can wipe the stupid ass grins off our faces as we half assed put ourselves into somewhat order.
Both of us still have our shirts untucked and our suit jackets unbuttoned when Declan hits the switch to finish our ascent to the penthouse. While I have my pants at least zipped up and buttoned, my belt is still hanging there like my spent dick. Declan’s lazy ass barely got his belt on, but still has his zipper and pants completely undone.
“Shit. That was much fucking deserved and well needed.”
I’m still attempting to regulate my breathing as I answer, “Yeah. Not gonna disagree with you. Pretty sure you broke my dick.”
“Ha! Give it five minutes and we could both go again. Don’t even bullshit yourself.”
I can’t even conjure a semi worthy response, so I just flip him the bird as the elevator stops.
When the doors slide open, we are met with the unexpected sight of Sinclair standing there in sweats and a t-shirt, just showered hair, with arms crossed and, if looks could fucking kill, well, let’s just say our asses would be 6 fucking feet in the ground already.
“Took you fucks long enough. Had to desecrate the elevator I see. Fucking idiots.”
“Uhhh…” Declan mutters, obviously just as flabbergasted as I am. We’ve never said anything about our sexuality with Sinclair.
“Wait…you know?” I ask.
His piercing green eyes continue their demonous assault on us as he glances back and forth between us. “Suspected for a while now. But your 32 minute elevator ride and the fresh fucked looks when the doors opened confirmed it.”
Rubbing my one hand on the back of my neck, I’m at a complete loss of how to handle this. On one hand, I feel terrible keeping this from him because we don’t keep shit from each other. On the other, his enraged reaction is the exact reason why we decided to keep him out of the loop.
Declan’s dumbass just shrugs, because what else can he do. “Dude...we weren't exactly trying to keep it from you. Just didn’t know how you’d take your two best friends both being bisexual so yeahhh…”
Not exactly an ‘I’m sorry’, Declan, but I guess that’s as good as it’s gonna get because I’m still trying to find ground myself.
“Morons. Both of you.” His arms finally drop as he motions us out of the elevator before turning away to walk towards the kitchen. “Don’t give a flying fuck. But I’m pissed the fuck off you idiots kept it from me. Go fucking shower and meet me in the theater. You assholes get to watch my favorite movie as punishment.”
The sick and twisted realization hits us at the same time, causing us to both groan and start bitching and moaning over Sinclair’s trash ass secret favorite movie, Forgetting Sarah Marshall.
“No! I am not watching that bullshit again, Sinclair. You can go fuck yourself with a fork for all I care,” Deck bitches while I try to compromise.
“Come on man, anything but that. Be reasonable.”
Yeah, Sinclair and the word reasonable go together like hair dryers and bathtubs full of water. He pins us both with one of his notorious glares before dropping the dagger down on our pathetic asses.
“Nope. You’ve got two choices. Either watch the movie, or I print out those oh so precious pictures of you both dressed as girls when you were younger and plaster them all over campus. Maybe even a billboard on the freeway.”
Fuck a duck and screw a kangaroo. That bastard ass prick.
With a defeated sigh, I just walk towards my room to shower. “Be down in ten, ass face.”
I hear Declan’s grump ass temper tantrum steps not far behind me. “Stupid bastard ruined my post orgasm haze. Cocky old fuck is just mad he didn’t get laid today.” Then the door to his room slams, as his bitching and moans continue.
I just walk into my room, hit the shower, put comfy clothes on, and head towards the theater room after. I’m ready for another lame ass night watching the one movie that somehow calms the murderous beast within Sinclair.
Whatever. He will get his payback one of these damn days for that stupid ass picture.