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?