Ripped off My Blouse

KIERA.

Alone. That's how I woke up. Surmising that Dylan would already be busting his ass, trying his hardest to bring his screenplay to life, I somehow found my way to the dining room on my own. To be brutally honest, I missed every detail of him. The curve of his pink lips, the torture of watching but not touching his biceps, the laughter that came easily to me in his company.

More than those, I craved steamy morning coffee and crusty bread. If I texted him now, would I appear clingy? It wasn't as if I staked any claim on him. When Joanne returned from her bad luck trip... She would return, I nodded nervously, nibbling on a slice of toast, and pick up with Dylan where they left off.

My train of thought was interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

"Had a nice night?" Early morning, sexy voice vibrated from the other end, no other one than Dylan.

"Kind of," I bit my lip because that came out wrong, "I mean, yeah."

"I'm glad you miss me," he spoke softly. "I'll be home early today."

My insides quivered in anticipation, I drank some coffee and dropped the cup, rose then strolled to the window, leaning against it's ceiling-to-floor frame.

"Do you miss me too?"

"I'm thinking of something," he said, deliberately waiving my curiosity away. His tone developed a husky edge to it, the kind that made me shiver despite the heat.

"Which is? Our date?"

"That kiss you owe me."

I gasped.

"The opening night of the movie is next week."

"That's pretty close. Wait, why are you telling me this on the phone?"

"Because I want you to go shopping for a smashing outfit with that credit card under the flower vase. Please keep it when you're done."

"I still don't get it."

"Do you think I'll attend the premiere without my date?"

This man would be the ultimate death of me. I finished my breakfast while updating Iris about Dylan's plans.

It was Dylan everywhere, but I was beginning to mind less, and love it more. She sent her personal driver to pick me up, warned me to get a killer dress that would turn Dylan into a steaming pile of mush.

I giggled at her enthusiasm, moreso surprised by our fast friendship, she said something about having to take her seat in the studio right away, but she would be glad to catch up with me over dinner.

The servants accorded me the same respect they did the Master of their household, which was both endearing, and made me confident that I could pull through this shopping agenda.

"Where to, ma'am?" The engine kicked to life at the hands of the driver, who had arrived so quickly that I relinquished the backless bra in my closet.

I blushed as I realized that Dylan must have been the one to pick out my underwear.

"Ma'am?" The driver asked again.

"Uh..." I tried to recall the boutique Iris had recommended, "Pink..."

"Pink Tree?" He scratched his beard. I did not miss the way his sights settled on my perfect breasts jostling as I adjusted to a comfortable position in the backseat, before he looked away.

Perverted.

***

"Hi beautiful," a Caucasian male, I supposed he was basking in his early thirties, approached me on the steps at the entrance of the boutique, lined with potted marigolds and ferns.

"Hey. How can I__"

"I'm looking for the perfect birthday gift for my girlfriend," he winked and reddened, "Could you help me? I'll make it up to you, I promise."

His soulful caramel eyes bored into mine, like Dylan's, but hypnotizing, sweet. I forgot how to breathe, standing this up close to him. He brushed a few of the blond bangs that had fallen past his forehead.

"Sure." I smiled. The guy had me in his palm smoothly.

"No, no, no, not here." He held me back from entering the sliding glass doors.

"There's a little clothing store three blocks to the left. You see it?" He gestured to the empty distance in front of us.

"And I assume you want me to go there with you? Isn't that a bit reckless?"

"Please."

"Just one dress, one pair of shoes and I'll be off."

"Aye aye," he flashed a mock salute.

It took a yard. A yard before a pair of mighty arms grabbed my waist, another blindfolded me with a flannel cloth, damp and musty.

A yard ago, I was the self-conscious woman let out into the real world for the first time after it betrayed her. And now, I was dragged into a waiting car, pushed into the backseat, squished between two thick men, and whacked across my cheeks when I let loose a loud, doleful cry for rescue.

"Shut the hell up, cunt," the Caucasian man from my earlier temptation dug his hand under my tank top, up my back then slid it across my breasts. "You really are an idiot. I wonder what Dylan sees in you, wasting his money on a social reject."

"Should I gag her, Romano?" His colleague seized my neck.

I felt the iron chain dangle against my skin and shuddered.

"When the time is right," Romano uttered wickedly.

That prick. I should have hollered 911 instead of agreeing to help him. But again, I was his prey. Helpless. Hapless.

He licked my earlobe, planted a trail of kisses down my neck.

I thought of the driver. Would he come for me? What had I done to myself?

His kisses were wet and sloppy, he dipped a finger into my pants, shot straight down to my pussy, my hips bucked as his comrade clasped the gag around my neck. Romano drew out his finger and forced it into my mouth.

"Taste yourself, bitch."

I tasted it.

Hot fierce tears were streaming freely down my face as I fought to inhale air, but met the stuffy contaminated mist that enveloped the car.

Dylan. He would come to save me.

Romano smashed his lips on mine in a burning thirsty kiss, ploughed through determinedly, sapped every ounce of my soul into his being.

"Stop the car," he ordered the driver in between kisses.

I was breathless, my clenched fists he forced apart and pinned down to the seat, pressed his bulging erection into my stomach.

I felt sick. I wanted to throw up and flush this horror down the toilet.

The car halted near an abandoned warehouse. I cringed at the foul odour of rotten meat and stale urine as Romano forced me on my knees after kicking me out of the car.

"Set her free. I want to ruin her for all other men, forever. And she must see me do it."

I was relieved of the gag and blindfold.

He unbuckled his belt.

"Please don't do this t__," I wept sore.

"I said shut up!" He roared. "Nick sent us to inflict his mark on you. But before then, you're going to give me pleasure. Show me what that sweet little mouth can do."

He curled his belt in the air then brought it down across my body.

Once. Twice. Thrice. I stopped counting, weak.

Shoving my chin up, he directed my hands to pull down his boxers. The next thing I knew was that I was face to face with his raging hard-on. He plunged it into my mouth. Harsh and deep.

That was when I lost it. I no longer registered his salty cum filling my mouth, he exploded and ordered me to swallow.

Romano motioned for the other two to come closer. Together, they ripped off my blouse.

They panted heavily. I did not know who tore my panties or devoured my breasts till they ached badly.

Soon, three big dicks danced in front of my face. One jammed into my pussy, another vandalized my other hole while Romano satisfied himself with yet one more round in my mouth.

My body felt as if it belonged to someone else. I was no longer awake.

Then, Romano, I thought, distinguishing him by his voice, brought a red hot iron from the car. He swooped down on one soft breast; swirled his tongue around my nipple while roughly caressing the other. Heaved a sigh that afterwards, sounded final. Permanent.

I still vibrated from the shock of his dick teasing my entrance as he leaned over me.

"Silver and gold I have none, but this mark I brand you with. You're Nick's property. In life. In death."

Dylan. He did not come.

I passed out.