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I want to fall in love with a killer...(SHORT)
🕑 Added 2020-08-07 16:31:00 +0000 UTC
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The thin crimson filter of the late evening flowed through the window as I unwrapped my ankle holster, three knives in total and handed over my gun to his goons. I’m ordered to strip down to my lingerie and blindfolded.
My mission had been simple enough, fly into the Bahamas and take down the notorious drug baron, Sandor Machek. I’d seen pictures and footage of him on the debrief, he was a very young 40 year old man, chiselled jawline and an athletic build, notoriously ruthless, he’d killed his own father to attain power in the region. I admit I’d always had a thing for dangerous men, even the most extreme ones.
What had seemed so simple quickly got complicated as I slipped up within a few days of arriving in the country.
Sandor got to me first, intercepting me in my hotel room after his men suspected me in the lobby. The following 24 hours had been a blur as I was snook back to his compound and kept in a tight concrete cell. But, inevitably the time came for questioning and answers, little did I know I was going to face a few more disturbing questions about what I really wanted from the trip.
I sit in the chair, completely naked with the tightly bound rope rubbing against the tips of my nipples . There is no bottom to the chair, its completely cut out, perfect for drug lords who want to torture their captives or for tormenting submissive girls who wander into their lairs. Sweat drips into my cleavage as I try and settle my breathing and my hands struggle in the handcuff knot behind my back. Metal clings loudly in the corner as the heavy door swings shut and someone steps through before it shuts again. I can sense it is him.
A few moments pass as leather shoes meet the floor, little echoes reverberating around the huge interrogation cell.
“Miss Walters, I believe we haven’t met. Sandor Machek, the Bahamas’ finest.” His voice is deep, rumbly, just the right note to keep any woman’s attention he wanted to. Coming into the mission, I wasn’t altogether clueless about his exploits with other women, a little bit more drama only seemed to sweeten the deal for me.
I spit on the ground but it doesn’t have anywhere near enough aggression to it. I am this man’s captive and the best I can do is react with a meek spit barely a few feet in front of me.
“Feisty one hey? We’ll see how feisty you are after a session with me.”
The tables were turned, I’d interrogated countless men in chairs to extract information, it felt so strange to be on the other side, so vulnerable, so powerless to do anything.
“You were supposed to kill me weren’t you? You could have done so today in that lobby, non one would have even known.”
I stay quiet, feeling him circling me like a shark waiting for the first hint of blood in the ocean.
“But you hesitated with your trigger. I suspect for the only time in your life.”
“I’m not going to talk Machek, so you can do whatever you want with me.” My voice feels weak as it barely registers an echo in his dungeon. My words spilling out the first signs of my subconscious desires, the first traces of the pooling desire within myself.
He sniggers. “Oh don’t worry, I have a few lessons you can learn.”
Lessons. What kind of lessons? My curious side perks up from her sleep.
“Stockholm Syndrome? Seems too convenient to me.”
I try to block it out of my mind. But was he right? How could I have been so careless otherwise. I was usually meticulous on my missions, the model MI5 girl, always a perfect score to report back to HQ and here I was literally submitting myself to a drug lord. And the worse part is, I think I like it, I want to be his. I feel his hot gaze all over my naked body and I feel the blood start to rush to my cheeks as tingles erupt all over me, goosebumps flaring up along my arms.
“When was the last time you got properly punished Miss Walters?”
My heart jumps on the question but I try to hold my tongue, my top teeth running lightly against the tip of my bottom lip as a little saliva gathers in my mouth, it was boiling in here and only getting hotter as my face was flushed with embarrassment and arousal. It had been a while, I’d only ever had my slice of vanilla relationships. My work as an assassin left very few men able to tame me or match me in that department.
He kicks the chair over and I gasp involuntarily as my head starts to spin, little lights flashing in my darkened state as my legs stay bound together and my hands stay constricted in the rope behind my back.
I hear his belt leave his trousers, the buckle dragging across the concrete floor. Suddenly, he steps over to me, I can smell him, he is wearing a heady musk, I can feel it dripping from his chest hair, I can sense him getting hard at the thought of what he has in front of him. I can tell he wants my toned body, he wants to claim me, to have me saying his name till I’m sore.
“Fuck the blindfold, I want you to see what I’m going to do to you.” Ripping it off me, I am blinded by the harsh light from the bulb overhead before he comes into view. He’s even more stunning in person, with a scar running across his neck and a complete menace in his gaze. His shirt is off and I can make out the outline of his rigid girth in his pants, protruding against the seams. He bends down to me, his breath lining my neck as he whispers in my ear, the full extent of his power becoming evident to me.
“If you cry, I’m going to punish you more, do you understand?”
Something told me I wasn’t going to cry. I nod and give a little lick of my lips as a bead of sweat trickles down my throat and between my breasts. The belt drapes against the underside of my legs, slithering towards my lips and a little stream of excitement squirts out of me onto the floor below as I whimper his name under my breath.
“Please, Sandor, please, make me yours, I’ll be your girl, I’ll be yours. Please, please…”
The belt runs over my bare slit and against my soaked thighs before he retracts it and gives me the first lash against my firm backside. I buckled in the bondage, wriggling my hands and toes to try to lessen the pain but the knots are expertly done, I was his for the taking. The little submissive assassin slut ready to do his bidding, Everything was moving so fast but I have to make a confession, part of me wanted to fall in love with a killer.
