My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 8 Questions

MY MASTERS’
NIGHTMARE

SEASON 1

EPISODE 8

“
Questions”

Marita A. Hansen

Like a
television series,
My Masters’ Nightmare
is broken up into seasons and
episodes. A new episode will be published approximately every 2-3
weeks until a season has ended. There will be fifteen episodes per
season.

CONTENTS

Copyright

Acknowledgements

Recap of Episode
8

1 Jagger

2 Rita

3 Sophia

4 The Padre

About the
Author

Other Books by Marita A.
Hansen

Copyright

My Masters’ Nightmare

Season 1, Episode 8

“
Questions”

Smashwords
Edition

Copyright 2013 © Marita A.
Hansen

Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover
It! Designs

Cover Photography by Nick
Freund

and sourced from
http://depositphotos.com/

All rights reserved. No part of this book
may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in
any form or by any means whatsoever without the written permission
of the author, nor circulated in any form of binding or cover other
than that in which it is published. Thank you for respecting the
hard work of this author. For subsidiary rights inquiries email:
[email protected]

All characters, names, places, and
incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

I would like to say a big thank you
to my beta reading team for this episode:

Jahayra
Lopes

Carol
Allen

Carla
Givens

Andrea
Braccio

Elaine
Makri

Your help is
greatly appreciated.

In Episode
7 “Connections”

After
Jagger flees the house,
Honey
is left behind with the new trainer,
Alessandro Santini, a man who is set on making her his
slave. She resists
him, but ends up negotiating the release of Camila’s sisters, which
sees her agreeing to share a bed with him for one night.

Matteo
continues to argue with the
Padre
, but is excited when the
Padre
’s twin returns. With Christo’s approval, Matteo
goes to a popular nightclub to snare one of the Landi sisters.
After having sex with the oldest one, he unexpectedly witnesses
Jagger buying drugs. When Jagger passes out, Matteo hands him over
to his sister to look after while he plans a party to die
for.

Seven years ago
Frano
met Sophia. The
attraction between them sets off a series of events.

Episode 8 “Questions”
begins...

1

J
AGGER

Someone shook me.
I tried to open my
eyes, but like my body they felt heavy: weighed down, lethargic,
and sluggish.

“
Wake up, Jagger,” a female
voice said.

She sounded
young, possibly a
teenager.

“
Please wake up;
I can’t carry you
inside.”

I tried to open my eyes again, but they
remained sealed shut. The female swore. Hands grabbed my ankles and
tugged on me. My body slid across something leathery, then over an
edge. My ass hit the ground, which strangely didn’t hurt. It was
almost as though I was rolled in bubble wrap, something that made
absolutely no sense considering I could still feel her touching me.
Maybe I just couldn’t feel physical pain, the drugs I’d taken
dulling it into nothingness.

“
Merda!
” the female swore. “I’m sorry. Are
you okay?”

No matter how much I wanted to
reply, I couldn
’t.

She exhaled loudly. “Man, you can sleep
through anything.”

My
wrists were grabbed by small hands. I
was swung around, the female grunting as she dragged me across a
gravelly surface. She stopped for a moment, no doubt taking a rest,
because she was breathing heavily.

“
My friends wouldn’t
believe me if they
knew I had you,” she said.

Had me?
Apprehension settled in. Again,
I willed myself to open my eyelids, but I felt nothing, not even a
flutter.

“
You don’t look heavy, but, God,
you’re killing my arms, Jagger.” Heaving at me, she dragged me
another few feet and then leaned me up against a rough surface.
Keys jingled. A moment later, she was pulling me over what felt
like a doorstep and onto carpet, my legs hitting something as I
rounded a corner.

After several
seconds
, she
came to a halt, placing me up against a much softer surface. She
wrapped her arms around my torso, her breasts pushing into my
chest. “Up,” she said, lifting me a fraction. I fell back down. She
tightened her grip and yelled, “Up!” as though I would miraculously
move. Again, I fell back down. “You will sleep on the damned floor
if you don’t get up on the bed, Jagger,” she growled as if I was
purposely defying her.

Wrapping
her arms around me again, she
yelled out like a weightlifter and heaved my upper body onto the
mattress. Footsteps rounded the bed, then my hands were tugged on,
sliding me across the spongy surface. She let go and grabbed my
ankles, straightening me.

“
I
can’t believe I got you inside all by
myself,” she exhaled loudly, “but your clothes are totally ruined.”
She removed my shirt, then rolled me onto my side.
“
Merda
,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Jagger, I didn’t mean to scrape your
back.”

Footsteps ran off, then returned a few
moments later. She rolled me onto my front and removed my pants,
apologizing repeatedly for scratching me, although her words were
mumbled, the woman no doubt thinking I couldn’t hear
her.

She started cleaning my back with what
felt like a wet sponge. Once done, she moved down to my legs,
stopping for a few seconds, her breathing heavy, the woman sounding
like she was running a marathon. She resumed what she was doing,
muttering that I had a gorgeous body. Eventually, the sponge
disappeared and a towel replaced it. She carefully dried me, then
stuck what I assumed were bandages all over my back and
legs.

“
Lucky you’re unconscious or
that would’ve stung like crazy,” she said. “Though, don’t worry, it
won’t scar, they’re only superficial cuts.” She exhaled. “Why am I
explaining this to you? It’s not like you can hear me. I don’t even
know why I’m helping you, since you were a complete
stronzo
in high school. I
had the biggest crush on you, yet you didn’t even know I was
alive.” She ran a fingertip up my back. “Okay, I can’t say I blame
you, I was rather chubby back then and had braces. I was also two
grades younger than you. Still, you could’ve acknowledged my
existence.” She poked me in the back. “And now I’m helping you, you
owe me.” She rolled me onto my back. “Now, that’s what I call
payment. That’s one pretty impressive bulge you got there. I
love
cock. I totally
want to see yours, but I won’t.” She exhaled. “I’m not like that.
Still, you are totally my type. Okay, all guys are my type, the hot
ones anyway, but you … you’re every woman’s wet dream.”

She
brushed my hair back, jabbering on
about my looks. I wanted to tell her to stop touching me. No, I
didn’t just want to tell her, I wanted to yell at her to get her
grimy, stalker hands off me. I didn’t know why everyone had the
fucking need to touch me as though they had a God given right.
First that freak priest, followed by all those needy fucking women,
then that repulsive bastard Alberto, and now this female, whoever
the hell she was. I just wanted to tell them to all fuck off, that
it was my body, not theirs.

“
Well, sleep
tight
,
handsome,” she said, giving me a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see
you in the morning when you’re awake.”

A blanket was pulled over
me,
followed
by her footsteps receding. I lay there, my mind fuming, no, fucking
seething. All the things I could do to her ran through my mind,
because I wasn’t going to let her get away with touching me. No one
was
ever
going to use me again. And anyone who had hurt me—was going
to fucking pay.

***

The
weight of a body pushed down on me,
the feel of breasts against my chest making me open my eyes. I
blinked, not sure if I was hallucinating, because a
seventeen-year-old Sophia was lying on top of me. I had wanted her
so much in my youth, but now, as she writhed against my body, I
felt nothing for her. She was naked, yet my cock was completely
soft, not even a twitch for the first and only girl I had fallen in
love with. I didn’t understand it, because I still loved her, and
wanted to get her back from the Black Russian.

She continued rubbing on me,
using me for her own pleasure, which she wouldn’t have done,
especially since she’d turned my sexual advances down. My gaze
moved to
my
body. It was skinny, like I had been at sixteen. Now even more
confused, I looked back up at Sophia, but instead saw Rita. Her
long dyed-brown hair was hanging over me like a curtain, the
softness brushing my cheeks. As with Sophia, I didn’t feel a thing,
no attraction, just a sense of nostalgia, which was strange
considering I had only recently met her.

She lowered her mouth to my
neck, mumbling,
“I love your cock.” The words didn’t belong to her, the
voice sounding unfamiliar. No, I did recognize it. It belonged to
the woman who’d cleaned my back. She kissed me, then moved down my
body. I couldn’t see her face, everything becoming a blur. She
removed my briefs and put my cock inside her mouth, making me yell
out for her to stop.

She pulled
back
, the
face now staring back at me belonging to Honey. Her blonde hair was
messy and her curvaceous body was naked. She took a hold of my cock
and penetrated her pussy with it, making me want to push her away,
but instead I cupped her breasts. My mind screamed at me to stop,
but my hands refused to obey. She bent down to kiss me. I closed my
eyes, not wanting to see her face, nor be inside of her. It felt
wrong, like with every woman I’d ever slept with. It wasn’t as
though I wasn’t attracted to them or didn’t feel pleasure: I did.
Instead, it was the guilt that followed which ruined everything. It
made me feel dirty as though I was using them the same way
the
Padre
and Alberto had used me.

Honey’s kisses
grew rougher,
devouring my mouth. I opened my eyes, jerking back in shock at the
sight of Alberto on top of me. I no longer had my cock inside of
Honey, but the brute was inside of me. He muttered words of love
against my lips. Horrified, I hit out at him, desperate to get him
off me.

He grabbed my
throat
.
“Stop fighting me!” he barked.

Unable to breathe, I clawed at his
powerful arms, feeling worthless and weak against him. He loosened
his grip a little, then pulled his cock partly out of me, slamming
back inside, burying himself balls deep into my unwilling body. I
cried out, the pain causing horrible shivers to run up through my
stomach. Desperate to get free, I started struggling harder,
slashing out at him with my hands. His grip tightened around my
throat, cutting off my air supply. I tried to fight back, but I
felt dizzy, unable to breathe. My eyelids drifted down, my body and
mind giving up. I just wanted it all to end, even if it meant I
would die.