The Dominator (11 page)

“I’m leaving. I’ve got work. You’ll behave?”

I think I nodded a little, I wasn’t even sure. I could hardly look at him, after what he’d just done to me upstairs. After how I’d participated. I knew my face was red, I could feel it. And I could feel his eyes on me.

“Uh, you want your things picked up at your old place or are we starting over?”

I was shocked at the question, “I, um… I have to talk to them, tell them, uh…” tell them what?

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll have your things brought here. Then whatever else you need, I’ll arrange.” He got up, pulled me up to standing and took me into his arms, “Be a good girl,” he said and poked me gently on the nose, “No phone calls yet and no attempts to run.” I caught sight of his hand; it was covered in scratches from our scuffle last night. He saw that I’d noticed and smiled devilishly at me and then touched his lips to mine. His tongue darted in and his arms pulled me closer. I didn’t react, I didn’t respond. I guess was in shock. He let go of me and then said, “Watch her.” I glanced behind him and the Michael Clarke Duncan guy was standing in the doorway. I guess I had a babysitter.

I robotically dropped back to sitting and stared at my plate. Ms. Martinez sat down with a cup of coffee,

“Shoo Earl!” she said him, annoyed. He backed away. She sat down and put her coffee in front of herself, “He can go. Leave us girls to talk. Food not okay?”

“I---I uh, haven’t tried it.”

“Eat! I’ll keep you company,” she took a sip of her coffee, “Are you okay?”

I stared, dumbfounded at her, then finally answered, “Not really.”

“Tell. Tell me everything,” she leaned forward and propped her chin on her palm, her elbow on the table and stared at me with big brown doe eyes.

I winced.

“You don’t trust me. I understand. I’m a stranger to you. Let me talk while you eat. We’ll become friends in no time.”

I took a bite of cubed melon from the plate.

“I’ve been with the family since Tommy was a small boy. His mother died when he was just a boy. The Ferrano family hired me to look after him. I was an illegal alien with no future. I’d been smuggled into the country by a nasty piece of shit, who wanted to work me and my family to the death in payment for getting us into the states. Mr. Ferrano, Tommy’s father, Tom, he broke up the operation that was ruining lives of a lot of people. He freed dozens of people treated like slaves. In thanks to him, I offered to work for their family for nothing; they saved us, a lot of us. Of course they have paid me generously all these years, anyway. He got me citizenship, too. I stayed anyway; I wanted to be surrounded by people who cared.”

“Slaves?
They
saved you from slavery?” I shook my head, a sour look on my face.

She continued, “This family, they don’t play everything by the books. But they did a lot for me. There are a lot of people out there like them, don’t kid yourself. They don’t all get called by the same names but there are some very bad people out there disguised as good people and there are people who do bad things sometimes but are not bad, they do what they
need
to do. This family, what you see is what you get. They did good for me.” She pointed her thumb at her chest, “And for my parents.” She looked up to the sky and then kissed her fingertips and pointed them at the sky, “They’ve become family to me.” She motioned to my plate again, “Please, Chiquita; you need to eat.”

I took a bite of food. She kept talking.

“Tommy is the oldest of four. He’s taking over the family business after he marries you. He has big responsibilities. Big. This means you will have an important position. He’s like a son to me, you know? I have no kids but his mother died and so I was like his mother. We’re like family. You’re resistant to this. I know a bit about your father. I know that he gave you to pay them. Having a man like this for your father, what he did was a blessing. Better to be with the Ferrano family than a man like that.” She spat the word ‘that’ out with a grimace.

I was shocked, “I’m a prisoner, Mrs. Martinez. How is this better?”

“Call me Sarah. Better to be a prisoner of a good man than an evil one. Tommy is a good man. You’ll see. Underneath all his---you’ll see.”

I shook my head, “I wasn’t imprisoned by my father. He left me in foster care for 9 years. I was free but he came and he--- and Tommy is forcing me into---” I stopped talking. I didn’t want to say another word. Rule number 2.

“Your fiancé will provide for you, keep you safe, give you a family, an amazing loving family. Maybe you don’t think this is what you want but you will be very blessed.  I know he has dark tendencies but I think the right woman will bring him into the light. He’s had much pain in his life so far. He’s had a lot to prove. He’s beautiful outside; he just needs love to help create some beauty inside where he feels ugly. You’ll see.”

How promising. Ugh.

I sipped my coffee and stared out at the forest beyond the pool. I was done listening to her. This was pointless.

“I hope we can be friends. You can come to me if you need anything.”

Yeah, she’s loyal to him, to them. I won’t go to her for a thing. I stared, unseeing, ahead of me.

She must’ve picked up on my vibe because she left me alone then, patting me first on the shoulder and saying something softly in Spanish. I ate some of the food but really wasn’t all that hungry so it was tasteless and pointless. I was worrying about Rose, Cal and everyone who would be worried about me.  I don’t know if ‘worry’ was the right word for the emotions I was feeling about my Dad, though. He had really done it this time. And Tommy said he’d take care of things with Rose and Cal but I hadn’t a clue what that meant. I felt sick about it. Was he trying to get me out? Tommy’s father had certainly said different. How could Dad have looked so calm when he watched them drive away with me?

It started to rain so I wandered back into the house. Mrs. Martinez was cleaning the kitchen, “Should I give you a tour of the house?” she piped up.

“Actually, I’d like to lie down. I don’t feel all that great.” I couldn’t care less about a tour of my prison.

She smiled warmly, “Do you need something? Painkillers, tea, anything like that?”

“I just need a nap. Thank you, Mrs. Martinez.”

“I’m not married. And call me Sarah.”

I nodded, then I went back upstairs to Tommy’s room and got under the covers. I felt dirty in his bed, the bed where he’d screwed me that morning. The bed where I’d let him do that to me without fighting back. The bed that smelled like him and that smelled like sex. I wondered if my Dad lost any sleep last night. I thanked my lucky stars, if I had any, (I probably didn’t) that I wasn’t going to get pregnant from this morning’s activities since he hadn’t worn a condom. I rubbed my arm, feeling the small birth control implant that was there.  I only hoped that Tommy Ferrano didn’t have any STDs.

I woke up a few hours later feeling no better. I wandered over to the wet bar Tommy had gotten wine from the previous night and opened the mini fridge. It was stocked with bottled water and had several wine bottles plus a few bottles of beer. I got a bottle of water and then wandered into the bathroom and found a bottle of Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. I took two of them, hoping they’d save me from this excruciating tension headache, and then I climbed back into the bed. My eyes landed on the heart-shaped box. It had been moved from the dresser to right beside me on the bedside table and then my eyes flew up to the ceiling so fast that it was like I’d subconsciously thought I could un-see the box. I didn’t even want to think about that box. What I
did
want to think about was how I was going to get out of this mess.

When it got dark, the door opened and I thought it’d be Sarah Martinez again as she’d looked in on me and tried to engage in conversation at least 3 times but this time it was him. I looked up at him from the bed, where I’d been all day. He stood over me, staring. I wanted to disappear.

“Honey, I’m home.” I could see him smiling, probably thinking he was funny. I looked back to the television. My whole body was tense, locked tight.

“Sarah has dinner ready for us.” his tone was gentle.

I shrugged.

“I need to talk to you about a few things so maybe up here is better. It’s more private. I’ll bring it up.”

I chewed my lower lip and didn’t give him anything.

He sat on the edge of the bed and flicked the lamp on, “I’m gonna try to be patient with you but I won’t tolerate this for long.” His eyebrows were up and he looked serious but not angry. I blinked at him a few slow times and then rolled my eyes and looked back to the TV, trying to give off a “Whatever’ vibe.

Suddenly, he had me hauled me up to standing. Now his eyes were cold and angry-looking and he had my chin in his grasp, “I don’t appreciate being ignored,” he told me, “You’d be smart to remember that.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I know you’re here.”

“I don’t appreciate the attitude, then.”

“I don’t appreciate being kept prisoner,” I said softly, pushing my palms against his chest to get him to let go of me. How dare he think he can just manhandle me!

He let go of me and I sat back on the bed, ignoring the fact that he was looking at me like I was a piece of meat. “I’ll go get dinner for us,” he said.

“Not hungry,” I muttered.

“Fine, suit yourself. You can wait until tomorrow to find out about the fate of your father, your belongings, and to find out what’s happened with your foster family.” He let me go and left the room and I sank down into the pillows like they were the pits of despair.

I prayed nothing had happened to any of them quietly, biting back tears and just stared off into space until it got darker and darker and then I eventually fell asleep.

** ** **

He was in bed with me, kissing my neck. My eyes bolted open and I squirmed away. He caught me and stopped me.

“Out of those clothes,” he said.

My eyes bulged. Oh no. I shoved him away and he caught my wrist.

“Hey, I told you. Obedience is rewarded but you haven’t been very obedient this evening, have you? Are you going to take them off or will I have to do it?”

“Go fuck yourself,” I muttered under my breath. I don’t know what possessed my mouth to say that but I instantly regretted it.

Covers were flung back and then he yanked the pants off me, pulling the underwear down with them. I tried to struggle but it felt like I was a flailing toddler and he was a giant. Then the tank top was yanked over my head while I was simultaneously pulled over his lap. He was in a pair of silky boxers and I felt his erection poking me in the upper abdomen. One hand was on my upper back and the other on my ass and his fingers dug in.

“Apologize for saying that to me.” he said softly. So softly it was frightening. His voice was laced with menace.

I held my mouth shut. It was a weird position, being naked over his lap, feeling his erection digging into me like this. His breathing was heavy. He slapped my ass hard. I cringed at the pain and tried to get away but he had a firm hold of me.

“Apologize,” he repeated in a still soft but even more menacing tone.

I pursed my lips. Forget this. I wasn’t apologizing to him for being shocked when he demanded I get naked. I tried to struggle to get out of his grasp again. Another slap.  This one was harder.

“Ready to apologize yet?” he demanded, his voice still quiet but his tone even harder. His hard-on seemed even harder, too. The sick asshole was getting off on this so much. Spanking me, it was turning him on. I didn’t care. I wasn’t giving in. This was my life, my freedom, I couldn’t just give in, give up everything.

“Answer me, Athena…” he sang out, sounding impatient.  Another slap.

Ow! My ass was on fire. He wanted to do this. This was going to happen to me no matter what, tonight, I just knew it.

“I love the way your body jerks against my cock when I spank you, baby,” his voice was husky.

Suddenly he pried my legs open and plunged a finger into me hard. It was excruciating.

“Not wet tonight, Tia?” He tsk tsk'd at me, “That’s disappointing.”

“I hate you.” I cried out into the sheets, tears streaming down my face, “Sick fuck!”

He sat motionless for a moment and I didn’t know what was coming next so I just stayed still. Then, he leaned forward and I heard the bedside table’s drawer open. I heard a pop sound, like a cap pop off something and then I felt something slimy down there. He was rubbing something on me down there. Damn him, was he… He was! He was lubricating me.

He slapped my ass again and I must’ve jumped about ten feet or as far as I could, still in his hold, but then he plunged his fingers in again and pumped them in and out a few times and then pinched my clit.

“So tight, Athena,” he muttered, his finger prodded at my rear hole.

Oh heck, no.
I tried to scramble away and he tried to grip me but his fingers were slippery from the lube so I managed to get off his lap. I took a tumble to the rug and then tried to scamper away, feeling the rug slice across my knee like sandpaper. I wasn’t fast enough. He caught my ankle in his grip and the rug sliced again as he dragged me backwards. Then he was pinning me to the floor.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he told me, calmly, crazily calm. His hot breath tickled the back of my neck, “You’re going to do your best to please me and make up for this poor attitude tonight.”

He gathered my hair at the nape of my neck and pulled a little so that my chest was off the floor. I pushed my hands into the rug to support myself, whimpering.

“Right now you can please me by apologizing.”

He grabbed my ass and then started rubbing his hand up and down.

“Tia…” he was letting me know he was waiting and I suspected, ready to strike again. He squeezed my rear end.

“Sorry,” I spat, hating my life with a passion.

“You want me to make you come again, baby? You’d better do better than that.” he whispered. I couldn’t even think. My brain was filled with a list of expletives that wanted to scream out of my mouth but I held my tongue.

“Hmm?” he slapped my ass again. I was going to be full of welts in the morning. And my knees were on fire from rug burn.

“I’m sorry.” I whimpered, thinking
I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you.
I didn’t want him to make me come, I wanted him to stop and go away.

“That’s better,” he said, then he started to trail light kisses up and down my spine, “Good girl,” he murmured against my skin, “Good girls get to come.”

I wanted to cry out, to say
no
but I was immobile. The kisses gave me goose bumps and my nipples hardened. His hand cupped me and he started to rub my clit again. The moisture was there. It wasn’t mine but it was there and I guess that’s why my body started to respond. Fuck, this made no sense. My ass was so sore, I was so scared, and yet I was starting to breathe heavier.