Used By The Mob (3 page)

“I like what you’re wearing sweet-heart,” Vincent sniggered.
“It looks very familiar.”

Stacey looked out of the opposite window, deliberately
ignoring his remark. She knew he was trying to play games with her,
and she was determined not to let him get inside her head. She had
of course arrived at Vincent’s house wearing just a T-shirt, and it
had been Vincent himself who had supplied her with his own wife’s
pink chemise. Stopping halfway down the thigh and showing a
generous amount of cleavage, it wasn’t too unlike the selection of
dresses she used to choose from at home, but that was all she had
been given. No bra, no panties, no undergarments of any
description. Nothing else. She had worn the same thing, unwashed,
ever since arriving.

“She’s gone quiet again,” Vincent noted.

Tony chuckled quietly to himself.

“You’re gonna have to talk sooner or later, you know? In the
meantime, you may be wondering what became of your husband. Well…
remember that story I told you about him being comparable to…
whatever it is that fish eat? Well, it turns out I was right! Can
you believe that? I thought I was just being clever but you should
have seen those big fish nibbling away at him, it really was
something else.”

“They were Tiger Sharks, boss. They eat anything you throw in
the water. Remember that guy from the bank who…”

“Stop it,” Stacey snarled.

“There we go, she liked that one, Tony. Hey, how much further
do we have to go? It seems like every time we visit this place it
moves a little further away, what’s the deal here?”

“Almost there, boss.”

“Excellent,” Vincent cracked his knuckles before lighting one
of his cigars and turning towards Stacey. “Alberto is my brother,
so treat him with respect, as best you can. I know you struggle
with that concept. This might be the last time any of us see him
for a while, so don’t ruin it for him, and remember it’s because of
you that he’s up here in the first place.”

Vincent had just finished imparting his wisdom when the car
slowed to a halt outside a huge steel gate. Tony got out and walked
over to an electronic box on the outside wall.

“Moriello,” he shouted irately, and the gate creaked sideways
behind the wall, eerily grinding through the grooves in the floor
like it was rarely ever used.

The asylum was just about in view at the summit of a hill in
the distance. The lawns were exceptionally well kept, and the
driveway, long but in relatively good condition gave something of a
false impression of the building itself. Run-down, missing tiles,
blackened bricks; it would have looked more at home in a
cemetery.

“Moriello,” Tony repeated, this time for the receptionist
behind a reinforced glass window inside the building. “We’ve come
to see Alberto.”

The receptionist flashed Tony a disapproving glare.

“Does your girlfriend need a coat?” She asked firmly, eyebrows
raised. “She looks awfully cold.”

“I welcome your concern, lady, I really do, but honestly, we
just need somebody to take us to see Alberto Moriello. Do you think
that might be possible?” Tony reached slowly into his breast
pocket, making sure that the receptionist fully understood his
implications.

“Alberto Moriello is on the bottom floor,” she replied,
perhaps realising that it was in her best interests to do exactly
what she was asked. “Take the elevator, and press the button marked
‘R.’ You will need this.”

She nervously pushed what looked like a credit card underneath
the glass.

“It’s a restricted floor. That card will get you through the
first door, at which point somebody down there will see to
you.”

“Thank you very much… Barbara,” Vincent added, clocking the
name tag on her uniform. “That could so easily have gotten out of
hand, but you dealt with it like a true professional. It was a real
pleasure talking to you.”

Barbara forced a fake smile and briskly walked into the room
behind her desk as Stacey and her two unwanted escorts entered the
elevator.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Tony admitted, as they
exited the elevator on the bottom floor. “All that moaning and
wailing, it’d drive me mad if I had to stay here.”

Vincent glanced sideways at Tony, baffled by his logic. He
held the card in front of a blue light on the wall and the heavy,
steel panelled door opened upward into the ceiling.

“Moriello?” Asked a male nurse, carrying a clipboard.
“Reception let me know you were on your way.”

“That Barbara deserves a raise,” advised Tony.

“Yes, she’s quite the worker,” the nurse answered, ushering
the visitors along a poorly lit corridor, badly in need of a few
new coats of paint. “We weren’t aware that Alberto had any visitors
today, but he’s still awake and just about coherent so you’re in
luck. You may also be interested to know that Alberto has so far
shown no real signs of improvement, although it is still very early
days. Most of what we have been doing so far has involved
observing, building a character profile, so we can decide how best
to treat him long term.”

“Sounds good to me, doc,” Vincent said, politely, although
most of what the nurse had said sailed straight over his
head.

“Now, as you may know, we don’t believe in restraining our
patients as it sends out the wrong message. This is a hospital, not
a prison. Instead what we do is punish what we determine to be bad
behaviour by zapping the patient with electricity; nothing
dangerous, just enough to temporarily debilitate. You may notice
the small ring-like device on Alberto’s finger. That’s how we blast
them if they start playing up, so please don’t take it off. Some of
our patients do ask their visitors to remove them, so we feel
compelled to tell you beforehand.”

“That’s a lot of information right there,” Vincent replied,
indifferently. “Can we go inside now?”

“You know only one of you can go inside, right? Asylum policy
I’m afraid. We’ve found that too many visitors at once can have an
adverse effect and usually leads to a violent reaction.”

“Sure, sure, no problem,” Vincent nodded. “In that case, we
would like to nominate our good lady friend here who I believe has
something extremely important to tell Alberto.”

“Very well, then you two can follow me to the observing
cubicle and watch from there. Don’t worry; he can’t see you through
the glass, so he won’t freak out.”

“One last thing,” the nurse continued. “Alberto has been given
some strong sedatives just before you arrived. If it looks like he
isn’t listening or like he is uninterested in what you are saying,
it’s probably just that they are starting to take effect. Trust me,
he is listening, so you just say what you need to say and when
you’re done, just tap on the mirror and we’ll come and let you
out.”

With those words of caution ringing in her ears, Stacey
reluctantly entered the cell and heard the door locking behind her.
It was pitch black and deathly silent, until she heard a harrowing,
almost primal growl and felt Alberto’s hands sliding up the front
of her chemise, grabbing a firm hold of her breasts and pushing her
against the padded walls. She tried to shout for help but he
quickly smothered her mouth with his own, blowing air down her
throat, breaking off only to spit in her mouth and suck on her
tongue. He loosened his grip on her breasts and dug his filthy,
uncut nails into her stomach, raking them down to her legs, and
then back up to her neck. He started growling again, grunting as he
slapped her across the face repeatedly.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered intensely, over and over again
in between fits of crazed laughter. He spoke with a manic sense of
urgency. He wrapped his hands tightly around her neck and lifted
her upwards, a foot or so off the ground. A perverted sense of
satisfaction pulsed through his veins, as he felt her retch,
gasping for air. She tried in vain to pull his hands away but he
was surprisingly strong, perhaps a side-effect from the cocktail of
meds he’d been given.

“Stop it,” she squealed, desperately. “You’re hurting me.
Please… get off!”

“Alberto, can you hear me?” Vincent asked. His voice tinny and
echoing through the speaker of an intercom somewhere within the
room.

“Vinny, is that you?”

“Yeah it’s me. Listen, I’m next door with your cousin Tony. We
brought you a little gift; she’s in there with you somewhere.
Tony’s just looking for the light switch, then you can introduce
yourself.”

“Is it Raylene, Vinny? I can smell Raylene.”

“No, Al, it’s not my wife, but, I know how you have this
bizarre thing for her, so you might notice that we dressed her up
in that nightgown thing you bought for her, Christmas before last.
Now don’t say I never do anything for you.”

The lights hummed on languidly, but did little for the clarity
within the room. It was still very sombre, and the bulbs were old,
flickering rapidly every few seconds.

Alberto fixed his bloodshot eyes on Stacey’s dimly illuminated
face, before turning away almost ashamedly, panting
anxiously.

“Turn the lights off,” he shouted. “Turn them off.”

“Tony, you heard the man… hit the switch. What’s the problem,
Al? I personally think she has quite a pretty face.”

The lights faded again.

“Raylene, I know it’s you. He’s lying. I’m sorry, Raylene…” He
whispered gently into Stacey’s ear. “I’m going to give you what you
always wanted. I’m going to make everything right.”

“No,” Stacey protested quietly, almost to herself. Her eyes
glazed over with a look of acceptance as she felt his hands
fidgeting between her legs. “Please stop.”

If anything her begging just made Alberto more frenzied; more
desperate to feel the flesh of the woman he’d coveted for so long,
at least that’s how it played inside his head. He timidly stroked
the inside of her thighs, as though he was waiting for permission
to take it a step further, but eventually, the temptation grew too
much for him, and he forced two fingers inside her, giggling as her
warm lips tightened around them. He moved them around in a circular
motion, his intention to stretch her out ready for what he had
planned afterwards, but suddenly, there was another buzz, and
Stacey felt a hot, stinging sensation rippling through the lower
half of her body. She began to scream. The pain was intense. Her
heart started pounding, and she could feel Alberto’s arm twitching
involuntarily, his fingers unable to move from in between her legs.
She felt like someone had poured boiling water all over her skin,
as it tingled and burned in unison. Her screams grew louder and
more unsettling, as did the pain. She could feel her muscles
contracting, as she stood rooted to the spot, legs parted, with two
twitching fingers wriggling inside her.

“Sorry about that,” Vincent laughed. “Me and Tony were just
playing a game of button roulette. I think this means he
lost.”

Alberto, more used to the electric pulses than Stacey, was the
first to regain functionality after the effects had started to wear
off. He groped her ass and buried his face into her chest, inhaling
as much of the perfumed material as he could. Stacey gradually
regained some muscular control, but it wasn’t enough to stop him
from touching her and grabbing her, squeezing her curves and
nipping her skin. With the nurse ominously absent from the cubicle,
she fully expected that nobody would come to her aid.

‘Why fight the inevitable?’ She thought to herself, her mind
something of a blur. ‘Resisting will just make this whole fucking
thing last even longer.’

So when Alberto requested that she lay on her back holding her
ankles in the air, she did exactly as she was asked, resentfully,
but with a degree of submission. He eased his ample body on top of
hers and started kissing her face. He was heavy, but not so much
that it was physically painful for Stacey’s petite figure to
support him. Not that she knew what was happening anymore. Her mind
had drifted into the past, remembering the day she met Mark and all
the happy times they had shared. It seemed like a lifetime ago
now.

When she finally snapped back into reality, her gown had been
pushed up so it had ruffled around her neck. Her nipples were wet
and sore, coated in saliva and Alberto had pulled his trousers down
to his knees and had guided his modestly sized penis inside her. He
was thrusting hard, resting his sweat dripping chest on her face as
he struggled to support his own weight. Then, after a series of
groans, Stacey felt him unload shot after shot of hot semen deep
inside her. There was so much. She could feel it seeping out,
streaming down into her ass and all over her back.

“Keep your legs up,” he ordered. “It increases the
odds.”

As before, she did as he asked, until his attention was
diverted by Vincent over the intercom.

“What’s going on in there, you’ve been awfully quiet since
Tony pressed that button. Is everything alright there?”

“We’re still here. Me and Raylene were just sharing an
intimate moment, but we’re done now.”

“Excellent, now listen, I’m gonna send Tony in to collect
Raylene. I’m also gonna have to put the lights back on, so you
might want to cover your eyes until we tell you it’s safe. Does
that sound okay to you?”