Used By The Mob

  Title

  By Louise Cayne

  Copyright 2014 Louise Cayne

  Smashwords Edition

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  Chapter 1

  'Put a bullet in each of his knees,' sighed Vincent, as he sat calmly, with his legs stretched out, resting on a coffee table and lighting a cigar. A puff of smoke temporarily masked the grey stubble on his world-weary face as well as the evil smirk strewn upon it. His cool demeanour suggested he had done this kind of thing plenty of times before.

  'Please, don't hurt him,' Stacey pleaded, 'He hasn't done anything.'

  Vincent laughed huskily as one of his henchmen held Stacey’s arms behind her back. She had no idea why they had come to her apartment, but every so often her husband would mention his name in conversation, and from this she knew he was a very dangerous man with a history of violence.

  * * * *

  Her husband, Mark had only been a part of her life for a little over a year. They married a few months after meeting and since that date, Stacey had made real progress in turning her life around.

  Before Mark, she had led a miserable existence. Drugs and prostitution were all that she knew. Fucking at least a dozen guys a night, she was pulling in hundreds of dollars every shift, but she was lucky if she saw anything close to 50 dollars of that after her pimp – an obese wannabe gangster going by the name of 'Bubba,' had taken his commission. Based in one of the roughest neighbourhoods in the city, Bubba kept his whores loyal by supplying them with drugs. Loyal as they were, many of his girls went missing, though not through choice. Some eventually came back alive, usually scarred or disfigured in some way after getting caught up with one of the many unsavoury characters within the city. Not that Bubba cared about their wellbeing; he knew people that could find him replacements within a matter of hours.

  Stacey had been assigned her own patch a few blocks east of Bubba’s place near the meat factory. The labourers worked into the early hours, and then the truck drivers started before sunrise so business was steady each night. Some of the labourers paid her over the odds to get her to act out the troubled fantasies that occupied their minds. Ranging from giving blowjobs in the back of the trucks whilst the drivers fondled carcasses and slabs of meat, to the time she was stripped and cuffed to the meat hooks inside the factory; a nightmarish evening that haunted her ever since.

  She had been lured into the factory by the shift manager who had promised her easy money, but as soon as the shutters were pulled down, the labourers pounced on her, pawing at her exposed flesh. They stripped her, cuffed her hands and hung the chain over a meat hook. Left dangling helplessly a few feet in the air between two slabs of beef on the processing belt, the workers took up their usual positions and turned the power on. The belt started to move and as Stacey was paraded past the workers one by one, they feverishly grabbed her skin, groping her legs as she moved slowly towards the grinder at the end of the line. Stacey feared for her life. Her heart beating so hard it felt like it was stuck in her throat, her screams stifled only by a blood stained apron wrapped tightly around her mouth. A look of resignation washed across her colour drained face as she witnessed the meat in front of her get ripped to shreds by the sharp metal blades.

  Her eyes closed, forcing the tears that had welled up to run down her cheeks. She could feel the flurry of air generated by the speed of the blades just up ahead. Time temporarily stood still as she recalled being beaten as a child, and running away from home when most other girls her age were still in high school. She remembered the abandoned warehouse where she had lived for a while, and the peculiar man who had kidnapped her and sold her to Bubba in the first place. Then, as she tensed her body in anticipation of being sliced apart, she was brought back into reality suddenly, as the machine lost power and shuddered to a halt. Her whole body shook as the workers lifted her down and dumped her on the gut-laden floor of the factory. Forcing her legs apart, they one by one unfastened their belts and took turns fucking her. She was in a state of shock, breathing rapidly and jerking frantically as though she was having a seizure. It didn’t stop the workers though, and when they had finished, they each put a few notes in her purse and proceeded to leave her, bruised and traumatised, curled up and staring into space whilst bathing in a shallow trough half filled with animal blood.

  Things were never the same for Stacey after that night. She did her best to stay away from that area, but Bubba made damn sure she did as she was told. Her response to this was more drugs. Harder drugs, to numb her body so no matter what morbid acts they wished to carry out, it wouldn’t affect her. One miserable night during a torrential downpour, just after the labourers were about to clock off, a silver car pulled up next to where Stacey was stood by the kerb. It wasn’t the kind of car she expected to see around there; it was clean, and it was expensive.

  ‘Damned out-of-towners,’ she muttered to herself.

  “Move along hot-shot, you don’t have a note small enough for me,” She shouted sarcastically at the tinted windows before inhaling a mouthful of whatever it was that Bubba had laced her smokes with.

  The back window slid down and Stacey gasped as she set eyes on a handsome man wearing a grey suit. He said nothing, just smiled as he looked her up and down a few times and nodded to himself. Her make-up had run down her face but she still looked pretty. Somehow it made her look more innocent, like she had been crying. Her short black dress was dripping, clinging to her body as though it was her skin and her nipples were hard and clearly visible due to the cold. Even so, she mustered a somewhat desperate smile of her own.

  “Are you lost?” The man asked coyly.

  Stacey was taken aback. He had such a powerful voice. Not loud, just deep and commanding. She tried to answer, but only managed to mumble something incomprehensible.

  “Please, forgive me,” he said confidently. “I was trying to be funny. I know you’re not lost, this is your patch right?”

  Stacey’s smile slowly faded.

  “It’s 30 dollars, sir.”

  The man sighed and opened the car door fully, before shuffling across to the other side.

  “Please, get in, you’re soaked.”

  There was something different about this man, but Stacey hadn’t figured out whether it was for better or for worse. Still, faced with another tortuous night in the processing plant, getting into an attractive and evidently rich man’s car seemed like an obvious choice.

  “Thank you,” she said, as she sat down on the leather seat directly opposite her mysterious client.

  “Take us home,” he ordered, glancing towards the equally well-dressed driver. “My name is Mark, and if you don’t mind me saying, you are an incredibly attractive woman.”

  Stacey blushed and looked away, wearing a bashful smile.

  “Do you have a name?”

  “Of course, I have a name,” she giggled. “It’s Stacey.”

  “Stacey, I like that name. I don’t know any other Stacey’s, you’d think I would in my line of work, but I don’t, so….It’s nice to meet you Stacey.”

  She wasn’t used to guys talking to her, unless it was the usual ‘you’ve been a bad girl,’ or ‘you’re nothing but a cheap whore,’ disposable kind of comment she got from most of her clients, and although she welcomed the attention she was receiving from Mark, it took her a while to feel at ease with it.


  “Thanks,” she replied quietly. “And what exactly is your line of work?”

  “Me? I work for one of the big law firms in the city. It’s a very stressful job, but I have my ways of coping.”

  Stacey’s eyes widened.

  “Am I in trouble? Is this some kind of, sting or whatever the fuck you call it? I hope you know I only got in your car because it was wet outside.”

  Mark laughed.

  “Relax, nobody is in any trouble.”

  Whether she believed him or not, his voice was enough to make her melt and for the time being at least, his word was all the reassurance she needed.

  As the journey wore on, a warm sensation occupied the pit of Stacey’s stomach as she realised that for the first time ever, she actually wanted to have sex with a man who had picked her up. After years of working the streets, her sexual appetite was almost non-existent. Sex was her job; it had no real meaning anymore, but he had awoken something inside her. He was warm, confident and looked to be in good shape, a far cry from the usual combination of over-weight, socially challenged and covered in pig guts. She started thinking. If she put on a good show for this guy, maybe he would tell his buddies and she could start building a client list of her own, full of respectable men. Office types like Mark that might take her to fancy restaurants and expensive hotels. People who wanted an emotional connection as well as physical gratification, and what Stacey wanted more than anything was an emotional connection. To be loved by somebody, to feel needed. Maybe this could be the start of the better life she had thought about so often.

  Wanting to make an impression, she started to loosen up and became uncharacteristically flirtatious. Her dress was so short that her black panties had been visible from the second she had sat down, but she had been doing her best to hide it by holding her purse in between her legs, only offering fleeting glimpses when the car turned a hard corner and she lost her balance. But with her inhibition fading, she threw her purse down by her heels, pushed out her breasts and arched her back inwards in a way that magnified just how perfect her figure was. Her breasts were well proportioned to the rest of her body; not too big or small, but the dress was so tight it pushed them up and made them look bigger than they were. She stroked her thighs, teasing her pale skin up to her flat stomach and then her breasts, pulling the dress over her hips in the process.

  “Is this what you want?” She whispered playfully, holding her legs wide apart.

  “Wow,” was all Mark could manage, as Stacey’s foot reached across and gently pressed his crotch. He was big. Even without seeing it, she could feel his cock getting harder underneath her foot, and she knew that she would have no problem getting off on something that big.

  ‘This guy is the complete package,’ she thought to herself, peeling the dress from her body and over her head to reveal a black bra that matched her panties. Mark leaned sideways and pressed a button on the inside of the door, after which the privacy screen behind Stacey’s head moved upwards, blocking any view the driver might have hoped to enjoy.

  Stacey crawled provocatively across to Mark, and straddled his legs, leaning in for a kiss as his hands began exploring her skin. It felt so right. His hands felt so comfortable on her body, like this was supposed to happen. She had never felt like this before, and soon got caught up in the moment, taken over by lust. Unzipping his trousers and reaching inside, she gasped playfully and bit her bottom lip as her small hand just about managed to wrap around the width of his thick cock.

  Freeing it from the confines of his clothing, Stacey squeezed the base as her warm tongue licked the tip. He tasted amazing, nothing like what she had experienced before, and she couldn’t get enough. Mark’s hands tensed up either side of his legs as her tongue found his sweet spot and paid it a little extra attention. He looked down at Stacey who stared back with her innocent brown eyes at the very moment she sealed her lips and encased the full length of his cock in her mouth. He swayed gently back and forth, feeling himself swelling in the warmth of her throat. She felt some kind of connection as she gazed into his eyes; she was sure of it. Almost a loving connection, but she hardly knew him. Was this even possible? Was she so desperate for love that she had started feeling things that didn’t exist?

  “Oh fuck… I’m… going… to…” Mark moaned, in between staggered breaths.

  “Not yet,” Stacey replied, swiftly rising to her feet and once again climbing onto Mark’s considerable frame. His erect cock twitching as Stacey held it between her fingers, pulling her panties to one side and lowering herself onto him with a quiet moan.

  “Now; do it now,” she begged, slowly bouncing, her moans growing sharper and louder as she pulled Mark’s face to hers and pressed her lips against his. She loved the feeling of his stubble as it dug into her palms, and his smell; so masculine. She felt his large hands grabbing her hips and pulling her down in perfect unison with his own rhythm. Her chest flushed red as she closed her eyes and dug her fingers into Mark’s shoulders.

  “I love you,” she said. Perhaps the only words she could find in the midst of an intense orgasm.

  “Oh… God…” Mark replied, grabbing hold of her firm ass and tensing every muscle in his body. His cock convulsed, injecting an almost endless stream inside her.

  They kissed again, passionately, like neither of them had ever been kissed before; desperate to touch one another.

  “This is going to sound crazy,” whispered Mark tentatively. “But I think I love you too…”

  * * * *

  Stacey stared helplessly at Mark who had been stripped naked and tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

  “Let him go!” She screamed, trying to wriggle free.

  'Shut up and watch, bitch,' the man from behind scorned through gritted teeth, taking a lock of her fine brown hair and pulling it hard, directing her gaze towards her restrained husband.

  “Gennaro, I believe I gave you an order, yet you appear to be stood in the exact same spot you were a minute ago,” Vincent said, almost in disbelief.

  One of the other men stepped forward and aimed a silenced .22 towards Mark's legs. Without hesitation he fired two shots directly into his targets knee caps and then slid the gun back inside his overcoat. Blood slowly trickled out from where each bullet had pierced his skin, but Mark didn't so much as flinch.

  "No! Stop it, please!" Stacey begged, screaming involuntarily.

  "Will somebody shut her up?" Vincent yelled, showing signs of irritation for the first time since he marched through the door almost an hour ago. “I don’t want people to think that something untoward is going on up here, you know what I’m saying? Giuseppe, do that thing that you do… you know, with the panties and the tape. I like it when you do that.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Giuseppe, the biggest of all the intruders, walked slowly over towards Stacey.

  “Keep still,” he said, looking deep into Stacey’s eyes, and before she had chance to react he clenched his fist and punched her hard in the side of the stomach. Instantly she gasped for breath, her mouth gaping, trying to inhale. Debilitated, she was powerless to stop Giuseppe unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them off her legs. Clearly uncomfortable with being exposed in front of a house full of unwelcome guests, she tried to cross her legs in order to keep a bit of dignity, but Giuseppe easily ripped through the fabric and pulled her panties from between her thighs.

  “This is how we keep the bitches quiet where I come from,” he said quietly, about an inch from her face, the smell of strong coffee infiltrating her nostrils.

  Her eyes screwed closed, as he stuffed her torn panties into her mouth, her harsh gasps stifled by the soft cotton inside her throat, as Giuseppe finished the job by covering her mouth with two strips of thick black tape.

  "Excellent,” Vincent said, grinning and clapping playfully. “It gets me every time, it really does. Now, about your husband, what are we going to do?"

  Vincent paused, waiting for a response he knew full well would never co
me.

  “You don’t wanna talk either? Well what a surprise that is.”

  Another short, pensive pause followed.

  “Tony, you got a beautiful woman right in front of you with next to no clothes on and you haven’t even touched her once, what are you? Are you gay now? Do I have to chop off your balls or what?”

  “I’m not gay boss… I was just…”

  “Just what? Just staring at her naked husband? Do me a favour and slap her on the ass, wake her up a bit. Come on, Tony, nice and hard.”

  Tony shook his head, clearly displeased with his public humiliation, but Vincent knew exactly how to get inside his head and make him angry, and he knew that he would take his frustration out on Stacey. Holding the back of her neck, Tony pushed Stacey’s head down so she was bent over with her ass pushing into his crotch. He lifted his hand and swung his open palm down hard onto her bare skin, making her whole body jump forwards shortly after impact. He left his hand in the same spot for a few seconds, gaining pleasure from her tingling skin, and then he did it again, much to the amusement of the others, until Vincent eventually gave the signal to stop.

  “I think she might be ready to face the music,” Vincent laughed. “Bring her over here, next to her loving husband. I want to fill her in on a few details I think she may currently be missing out on. Sit her on his lap.”

  Between them, Tony and Giuseppe dragged Stacey over to her motionless husband. His head had tipped backwards and was nestled in a groove on the top of the backrest. His hands were bound behind his back and his feet were taped to the two front legs of the chair.

  “Strap her on too,” Vincent ordered.

  Stacey offered no fight as she was lifted into the air and subsequently lowered onto her husband’s flaccid cock, her hands bound behind his neck and her feet taped to the two back legs of the chair.

  “Well would you look at that,” said Vincent, ripping the tape from Stacey’s mouth. “You two make a great couple.”