Breaking Lucia by Raissa Donovan
Saint
Inever get tired of feeling the softness of a woman in my arms, especially when she’s dead to the world and I have control over each and every thing she does. Lucia is out cold, and even if she wanted to fight me, she wouldn’t have been able to. She’s a little bit of a hellcat, but she’s weak, too.
I’d have expected Giorgis Bellini’s daughter to be more capable of handling herself, but she’d been surprisingly easy to subdue. If she’d made a scene on the train, it might’ve been more difficult, but she’d been meek as a kitten until she’d realized just how much trouble she’d been in.
And trying to fight against Angel? That was just downright stupid.
But I’m glad she did it, because it’ll make what we do to her that much sweeter.
I set her down on the bondage chair, and Angel unlocks the cuffs. We remove her sweater and her torn tank top, leaving only the black lace bra behind. Angel takes off her pants, too, and I get a glimpse of a gorgeous pair of silk and lace panties.
Black lace.
It’s a surprise for Giorgis’s oldest daughter to be wearing something so naughty, but I’m not going to complain. We secure her arms to the chair once she’s undressed, and her head lolls to the side. Another strap goes around her waist just for good measure, but I don’t bind her ankles. Not yet.
I have plans for her, and they involve leaving her legs wide open for me.
Once we have her in the chair, I go to the camera and inspect it.
“Jesus, Victor. Did you have to pick the worst one we have?” I gripe.
“It’s just a simple video to send a message. You don’t need a fancy one,” he replies mildly. His eyes are on Lucia, analyzing her like he analyzes everything else, and I follow his gaze.
The girl’s pretty, very pretty, especially now that I can see the lean lines of her body and the swell of her breasts, the way her lips part slightly in her enforced slumber.
I cup my cock in my pants as I stare at her motionless, utterly helpless body, groaning. Angel comes up behind me and slides his hand over mine, and I jump. I glare at him over my shoulder. What we do in private needs to stay private.
It’s not like I think Victor’s unaware of what Angel and I do when we’re alone, but I don’t need to show anyone. I don’t need their judgment—I do plenty of that on my own.
Victor goes to the camera, and he nods to me. “I’ll do the talking, but I’ll stay out of the frame. You two can do the convincing.”
“Oh, so just let him recognize us and have him send his hit men for us then?” Angel gripes.
“Seriously, Victor. What the fuck?” I echo his sentiments.
“Keep your back to the camera then,” Victor says, an edge of impatience in his voice. “Let’s get this over with before Sleeping Beauty wakes up.” He glares daggers at me. “Since someone couldn’t be bothered to gag her.”
I shrug, batting my lashes as I smile wickedly at him. This is just so much more fun, and I like the idea of her waking up in the middle of it. I didn’t dose her that much, and she’ll be too groggy to do much when she does wake.
“Let’s get this over with,” Victor says.
Angel pulls on a mask and steps close to her, and as soon as Victor nods to him that the video has started, Angel’s hands find that lacy bra almost immediately. He strokes her breasts, making a show for the camera as he fondles her.
“As you can see,” Victor says from behind the camera, taking his time speaking as Angel rips open the front of her bra, easily tearing the lace connecting the flimsy pieces of expensive fabric, “we have your daughter.”
I stand out of the way, watching and rubbing my crotch, thinking about burying my cock inside of her. She’d never even know I fucked her. She’d just be sore, and she’d be filled with my cum, and the idea is so arousing that I know I won’t be able to stand by and watch Angel have all the fun.
He thumbs her nipples until they pebble, her body reacting despite itself. She doesn’t need to be conscious to have a physical reaction to his touches.
That only makes it hotter, and I wonder what else I can do to her body while she’s unconscious. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten a present like this, one I can play with to my heart’s content…
Though I have to remind myself that I can’t go full force unless Daddy Dearest doesn’t pony up.
I almost hope he refuses, just so his favorite little girl can learn what it’s like to be touched more than I know Victor will let me now.
Angel plays to the camera, making sure it catches every little bit of what he’s doing. He doesn’t want her father to miss a moment of his daughter’s defilement, and I want it for posterity. I’ll never get tired of watching this.
Victor is silent, letting the camera get a good several minutes of Angel playing with Lucia’s tits before he finally starts to trail his fingers down her body. He pauses at her panties then pulls them off, sliding them down her legs and bringing them up to his nose and inhaling deeply.
“Better get her quick, Daddy,” Angel says. I can’t see it, but I know the wolfish grin is there underneath the mask. I can hear the glee in his voice when he goes on, “Because this?” He waves the underwear in the direction of the camera before shoving them straight into Lucia’s partially open mouth. “This is wet. I can’t wait to get into your daughter’s virgin pussy.”
Victor lets that hang in the air for a moment, and I can’t help myself. I keep my head turned away from the camera and kneel in front of the bondage chair, spreading Lucia’s legs wide.
“Let’s see just how wet she is,” I say.
“While my associates here test out your daughter’s… responses, I’ll give you our terms. Your daughter, safe and unharmed, for the low, low price of five million dollars and control over the south district west of the docks,” Victor goes on.
Angel takes out the cock I hate to find so beautiful, and I can’t look up at him for long—only enough to see him playing with its hardness, stroking himself over Lucia’s stomach.
Oh, hell no. He’s not the only one who gets to play.
I bury my face in Lucia’s cunt, and I’m a little surprised to find that she actually is wet. I thought Angel was exaggerating a little, but he had been messing with her in the car. Besides, it’s not like she can stop this from happening; it’s not like her mind can recoil in horror when she’s so deeply drugged.
I moan.
“How does she taste?” Angel growls, speeding up his strokes.
“Like heaven,” I tell him, barely moving back enough to speak. “I can’t wait to sink my cock into this wet cunt.”
“Which will only happen,” Victor interjects smoothly, “if you refuse our terms. If you decide to cooperate, we’ll be happy to return her with… minimal touching.”
Minimal. Right. I intend to taste every part of her while she sleeps, so she can wake covered in my touch without ever realizing it.
Angel groans, and his hot seed splatters across her pale breasts and stomach, dribbling down the sides of her body.
“But I can’t promise how long I can control my men with such a delectable treasure,” Victor says. “So you’d better think quick and answer quicker. I’d hate to leave them in a room with her without any instructions to leave her alone…”
He stops talking, and I don’t know whether the camera has stopped recording. I only know that I love the taste of her on my tongue, and Angel is busy rubbing his cum into her skin like he’s claiming her.
I lick and lick, finding that little clit of hers and lapping at it, then I suck on it. Her body jerks, and I grin to myself. Oh yeah. She doesn’t stand a chance.
Her body is loving this even if she’ll hate it when she wakes up.
Hate us, too, but it’s not like any of us give a fuck how she feels about us. She’s just a toy to play with until we get what we want—and as much as I really do want to feel that tight cunt around my cock, I’m sure Giorgis will give in for the sake of his daughter. He’s already seen what we’re willing to do on a short leash. Does he really want to find out what we would do if Victor set us free?
I realize Victor’s still talking after a moment, giving instructions on how to reach us, just in time for Lucia’s body to quiver all over and jerk as a climax sweeps over her unconscious form.
I groan, sliding my own hand into my pants and starting to furiously rub one out. I don’t often get to live out my dreams—it’s not like most people would let me drug them and fuck them, and besides… It’s more fun if they don’t know about it.
It isn’t long before I come into my hand. I pull my hand out from my pants and yank the underwear out of her mouth, only to smear my cum all over her nose and mouth. She’ll wake up smelling me, tasting me, knowing I was there to claim my territory.
And I can’t wait.
“That’s enough,” Victor said, sounding bored. “When you’re done cutting the footage together, you’ll email it to him, Santino.”
Victor’s about the only guy who calls me Santino. I’ve told him multiple times over the past several years to call me Saint, but he “doesn’t do nicknames.”
I use Lucia’s lacy panties to wipe myself clean and tuck myself back in. I catch Angel staring for a few seconds and I scowl at him, but if he notices, he doesn’t react. I don’t want to raise a stink in front of Victor, so I force myself to ignore him. Thankfully he goes to the nearby bathroom, meaning he’s helpfully out of sight.
I turn my attention back to Victor. “I do more than just email, Victor. Data encryption, anonymizing our IP, setting up—”
“Yes, yes, whatever.” Victor waves his hand dismissively. “I trust you to do it well. I want it to be the first thing Bellini sees when he checks his email tomorrow morning.”
The first thing? Unlikely, given just how much email people get in general. I can time it to arrive around the time he usually checks his messages, but Giorgis’s paranoia rivals Victor’s, so he varies up his routine all the time. I’d love to be able to hack into his private email, but whichever tech guy he’s got on staff knows his stuff.
Angel returns, his hair back in place and clothes unruffled. “Where do you want her?” He starts to undo the straps around her wrists.
“Can’t we just leave her? Give her a nice scare when she wakes up?” I’m imagining her struggles when she wakes up bound to the chair, completely helpless. God, that would be so hot. I want to be there to hear her scream.
“No, we want to be able to return her relatively unharmed.” Victor motions toward one of the smaller rooms in the basement. “I had that one prepared for her. And put her clothes back on her.”
“Uh…” Angel looks at the panties I’m still holding. They’re mostly intact, but her bra sure isn’t.
I make a face but put the panties back on her. They’re wet, partially from where she was wet before and partially from them being shoved into her mouth—and from where I got myself nice and clean. I still get a not-so-secret little thrill from knowing she’ll wake up covered in cum.
Victor might’ve told us to dress her, but he didn’t say anything about cleaning her up—and I’m sure as hell not going to suggest it. Angel won’t either. We both want her to wake up crusted in our seed, wondering what the hell had been done to her.
I lick my lips. I want to see it when it happens. I want to be there when it happens.
It doesn’t matter. I have cameras in all the rooms, and I’ll be able to not only watch, but save it for my spank bank for later on. It won’t be as good as being there, but it’s a good second best.
I grab her pants and work those up her thighs, running my hands along her smooth skin as I cover it up. She obviously takes good care of her body; between the lean muscles and the way I don’t even feel any stubble beneath my touch. I don’t button up her jeans, though.
Angel starts to unfasten the restraints around her wrists and waist, and I half-hope she’ll wake up anyway. It would be even better than her waking up bound, and she’d be too groggy and disoriented to fight us much. Even if she did, she couldn’t do much.
But Victor wants her in the other room, so like a good soldier, I help Angel get the sweatshirt back on her. He sees the unfastened pants and snickers, and we exchange a quick smirk before Angel picks her up.
I follow him into the other room, wrinkling my nose. It’s cold and dank down here, and the only thing in the room is a thin mattress in the middle of the floor. It won’t really be that much more pleasant to wake up here than in the bondage chair, but Victor makes the rules.
Angel sets her down in the middle of it, running his finger along her lips. “I’d love to fuck this mouth,” he says with a groan.
“You just got off,” I say, trying not to imagine it as I lean against the doorframe. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat. We’ll have more time to play with our little kitten when she wakes up.”