The Bastard 3

This is the sequel to "The Pawn", and the third part of the story (you'll really have to read both "The Samaritan" and "The Pawn" first.)

Cautionary: only heterosexual, anal, non-consent.

Setting: Europe, Contemporary

Characters:

Michael, male, 33 years old, male lead

Natasha, female, 23 years old, female lead

Mischka, female, 3 years old, Natasha's daughter

Dusek, male, 25 years old, Natasha's partner, deceased

Nicky, female, 30 years old, Michael's ex

Peter, male, 33 years old, Michael's enemy

Tom, male, 32 years old, Michael's friend

Shlomo, male, 58 years old, Aman department chief

Šakal (Jackal), male, 47 years old, Slovakian arms dealer

Note to the reader: I welcome feedback, but (especially) if you have something negative to say, please substantiate your comment.

The Bastard

Part One

Peter is sitting behind his desk, inside his small work space, a hidden room inside the house. The desk supports three coupled monitors, and the walls are covered with cabinets, holding the tools, the information, and the accumulated evidence, his business floats on. That business is prostitution and extortion, the latter more specifically the blackmail of married men he has, with the help of his prostitutes, managed to get compromising recordings of.

But it isn't his business he's currently mulling over, the subject of his reflections is these new developments regarding his revenge on Michael. The fucker had been a thorn in his side for his entire childhood. Ten years they had shared playgrounds and classrooms, ten years of Michael stealing the limelight from him. The boy that never did anything wrong, the boy that couldn't do anything wrong, the boy everyone liked, the boy everyone was friends with, the boy the teachers loved, the boy that always outdid him.

And every fucking time he had tried to pull one over on him the bastard had outsmarted him somehow, making those plans backfire on him, he had grown to thoroughly hate him. After they finished high-school he had disappeared from his life, which had been a relief, but it had also left him with this unsatisfied craving for revenge. And then, three years ago, their paths had crossed again, unexpectedly.

He had targeted this married executive; important enough to be willing and able to pay, yet not important enough to become a danger to him. One of the golden rules in the extortion game was not to fuck with the wrong people. He had set one of his call-girls on him, as usual, to get the man drunk, and then to seduce him and take him to a hotel room equipped with all the necessary recording equipment. And everything had gone smoothly until a colleague of the man, it was that type of outing, had intervened, and spoiled the whore's set up.

That colleague had been Michael. Fucking Michael again! All the accumulated hate he felt for the fucker had surfaced again, and he had decided to fuck HIM over for a change, and make it the fuck-over of a lifetime. It hadn't been that difficult to find out where he lived and what he did for a living. And so he had also found out he lived with this pretty blond, of course he did, he was fucking Michael after all. He always got the pretty ones, without having to pay for them that is.

He had started digging for dirt on him, but of course didn't find anything on 'saint' Michael. He had then tried putting a couple of gigolos on his bitch, but she had proven resistant to cheating, which had, in the end, made getting inside her panties twice as sweet of course. Two years it had just simmered, going nowhere, and then luck had smiled on him, at last, finally. He'd held this 'party' for some associates, and had passed a bunch of images around, of the prostitutes in his employ, to see which ones to 'order' for some horizontal entertainment later on.

At some point one of his guests had said, "Hey, I know this new one."

New one?

he had thought, all the whores in the photographs he had handed out had worked for him for at least a year already. He looked questioningly at the guy, and he had held up this surveillance image of Michael's bitch, which had somehow ended up between the images of the prostitutes. "She wasn't a whore at the time we gang-banged her some ten years ago: apparently we awoke new desires in her," the guy had said grinning.

He had confiscated the image and explained to the guys it got misplaced, and afterwards he had grilled the guy who picked it for information. And so he had learned that, years before, the guy had been part of this group who regularly roofied random girls, and then gang-banged them silly in some hotel room. Nicky had been one of those girls. That was amusing for sure, but not much to actually go on. But then the guy had told him they recorded the events, and then cut the footage to make it look like the girls participated freely.

He had added that, at the time, they hadn't been smart enough to try to make money with the videos. In the end he had coughed up twenty grand for the recording, and then he had had her, literally. He fondly remembers that first time she had surrendered to him inside that cheap hotel room, by starting to unbutton her blouse, and then getting on top of the bed and spreading her legs for him. But what had really gotten seared into his mind had been the look in her eyes when he pushed his cock inside her tight cunt for the first time.

That look had only been surpassed by the face she made when she realized she was going to cum on his thick cock not that much later, and the look in her eyes when he had finally filled her cunt with his semen for the first time had been priceless too. Fuck it had felt good to fuck Michael's girl like a whore behind his back.

***

It had taken a further half dozen 'rendezvous' for her to realize there was never going to be an end to it. That had resulted in yet another precious moment; her first telling him off and then having to surrender yet again, when she learned he had been recording their fuck sessions. It had been tense for a moment, because you could never be sure they would actually fold. When she did he had rewarded her little rebellion by reintroducing her to anal. He hadn't been the first one inside her ass, but he had been the first one she would actually remember.

It had also given him enough leverage to force her into fucking some of his associates, and to force her to accept him into her home, and into the bed she and Michael shared. Fucking her in his bed had proven even more satisfying, and then that inevitable day had come when Michael had caught them at it. He had noticed the door opening at the edge of his peripheral vision, but had continued as if he hadn't, knowing Michael had finally caught them in the act, and was now watching him fuck his sweetheart like a whore, from behind.

And luck had been on his side; she hadn't noticed, and had been close to cumming too. So after maybe another half dozen brutal strokes he had just pulled out of her sopping cunt, resulting in her producing this wonderful disappointed whine, and then he had impaled her asshole. She had wailed loud when he went balls deep inside her ass in one go, brutally stretching her open all the way. Half a dozen punishing strokes later she had cum screaming, flailing uncontrollably on his cock, like he had known she would.

The moment she stopped screaming Michael had started screaming, calling her a whore; that had been the first notion she got that he was watching them. He had been close too, but unfortunately Michael had already banged the door closed behind him on the way out by the time he actually came inside her, harder than ever, painting her rectum white. Well you can't have everything, can you? From that moment on she had been like putty in his hands. Two days later he had watched as three of his associates fucked her simultaneously, as she was made 'air tight' before his eyes for the first time.

Her initial resistance to having to service several men simultaneously had lasted less than an hour, before she submitted, then her inner whore had finally shown her in all her perverted glory. From then on he had watched her servicing groups of men on a regular basis. And then he had managed to get his hands on some fake contraceptive pills. The dumb whore had cried her eyes out when, two months later, a test showed she was pregnant.

What she didn't know was that he had a vasectomy years before, and that she was certainly pregnant by another man. Why the fuck would you want children after all... The plan had been to make her marry him, let her have her bastard baby, and then divorce her for having another man's child. He had married her under prenuptial agreement anyway, but that bastard child would see him get away scot-free from the marriage for sure. Once divorced he would fully expose her as the whore she was, and then Michael would have witnessed the total destruction of the woman he loved.

But then there had been the wedding reception, which was meant to be just the start of Michael's pain-trip. He had been so sure that goody two-shoes would still be pining for her, and then he had turned up with that gorgeous young bitch, clearly head over heels in love, thwarting his best laid plans yet again. His eyes lock on the thrift store voucher on the desk in front of him, and he feels his face getting hot; the fucking prick, how dare he!

Next to the voucher is one of the images of them the wedding photographer took during the short time they were at the reception. He takes in the pretty face of this new bitch of his for the umpteenth time. He sure would like to give this one the 'Nicky treatment' too. Watch her surrender to him, study her face while stretching open her cunt for the first time. He had gotten lucky with Nicky, but opportunities like that seldom arrive twice. Still, she looks familiar somehow; he had noticed it at the reception already, but can't place it.

He knows her first name's Natasha, and that she's from Slovakia. She had told him her name herself, when she introduced herself at the reception, and that she was from Slovakia he had learned from some of the people who had talked with Michael and her at the wedding.

Maybe you should approach it the other way around, maybe you shouldn't ask yourself where you know her from but who you know who might know her. She's from Slovakia, so who do you know in Slovakia?

***

He has never been to the country, but he has some Slovakian girls in his employ, provided by a couple of Slovakian organizations he does business with; basically intermediaries for young eastern European girls looking for employment in the wealthy west. He grins; the exact nature of the 'employment' isn't always made clear to these girls, so they often need some 'encouraging' to accept their new circumstances. There are three of these Slovak organizations he does business with now and then, two of those are based in the capital, Bratisomething, and the other one is based at some smaller town named Kosish, or something like that.

They send him files on a regular basis, by e-mail, files containing information and images of the young cunts available for 'export'. Could she have been in one of those files? A young whore offered for employment? He can hardly imagine it, because she would be working for him already if that had been the case. He surely wouldn't have passed over a young whore looking as good as she does. But the images provided weren't always that great, so maybe they just hadn't done her justice. His right hand reaches for his mouse, and he starts navigating his screens, digging into his e-mail history.

He searches for hours, it's getting late, and his balls start to ache, courtesy of all the juicy cunts that have passed his screens during his search.

Time to pay Nicky a visit,

he thinks,

give the bitch a good seeing-to. Maybe take her ass for a change, she hates to love that.

He chuckles softly, remembering the face she always pulls when she's being told to go clean and lube her asshole, and then his mouse hand freezes. There she is! It's a bad image indeed; it looks more like a still from some recording than a real photo. He scrolls the page, there are no nudies, how unfortunate, and unusual.

It means she's probably one of those girls who didn't get the explanation for the exact nature of the 'work' she would be expected to do in the west. That complicates things; did they sell her or not, and if they did, to whom, because those people might then be able to provide him with the 'evidence' he needs. But it's a long shot anyway. With Nicky he had leverage; he had access to her family, colleagues, and friends through social media. And he used that leverage to get more on her; the recordings of her 'cheating' on Michael, which threatened her relationship directly.

With this Natasha however, there's only Michael. If he had some nude pictures or something like that he might still try to see if she would bite, but the chances of success would be rather slim. Fuck, he can't have gotten this close and still end up with nothing, can he? And how the fuck did she end up with Michael? Did he liberate her from a brothel or something? That sure would fit his character, but Michael in a brothel?

Maybe she got away, the unwilling ones always try to before you break them, and then he picked her up somehow. Yes, that would make more sense. He starts to read the document, there isn't much info. Then his eyebrows rise; she isn't offered for export at all, she's on their wanted list. So she probably did get away, and they want her back. Maybe to protect their organization? Or maybe they have someone lined-up willing to pay a lot of money for her, she's a prime piece of meat after all... There's a market for that, mainly in the Arab world.

In the past he has sold whores as sex slaves himself, it's what he has blonde Nicky lined up for, once he's finished with her. Next his eyes get stuck on the reward mentioned at the bottom.

That can't be right...

It's a one followed by five zeros, info on her is worth a hundred grand to them? That's rather generous to say the least. And it is in Euros, not some worthless local currency. It plays right into one of those other virtues of his: greed

Making money while hurting Michael; it sure sounds like a plan, and who knows; he still might be able to get his cock inside her at some point. That would sure be the proverbial icing on the cake. He would really like to feel her young cunt stretch around his cock, to fuck another sweetheart of Michael's like a whore and fill her holes with his semen. He leans back into his chair, his fingertips drumming the desktop.

The e-mail is five months old, so their eagerness to get their hands on her has probably increased, so the reward they are willing to pay might have increased too. He could just abduct her himself of course. Use her for a while and then sell her off to these people, but that's a risky business, and something he has no real experience with, nor the people for. It goes way beyond getting some less than willing new 'employee' in line, and he doesn't like the risk, as in the amount of prison time connected to it, either.

He scrolls the page up, and checks the top of the file, it's from one of the organizations in the capital. No, it's much safer to just collect the reward; let those who want her, come to snatch her ass and take her back to Bratislava with them.

Ah yes, Bratislava, that's the name of the place.

That way he'll hurt Michael AND get his hands on some money, the amount of which might be negotiable. And he might still try to add him having his way with her as a bonus; she isn't a virgin after all, so it wouldn't reduce her value.

He'll have to tread carefully though; the kind of people willing to pay this kind of money usually aren't the kind of people you want to upset. He'll have to take his time with this, time to think things through before he acts. But the 'case' is five months old already, so adding a couple of days, or even weeks, to that probably won't matter. No one knows when he made this little discovery exactly, so he has plenty of time.

Part Two

Michael softly closes the door to Mischka's bedroom, and turns around to where Natasha is standing, smiling at him. It's Saturday night again, he reaches out and pulls her close, then they kiss. It's a week since that incredible night with her. That Sunday they hadn't fucked, she had still been too sore. They had just cuddled, more love after the 'sex without love.' He had gotten this really really nice blow job though. The rest of the week they had just enjoyed really loving 'vanilla' sex, as usual.

He breaks off the kiss, and locks eyes with the woman he now knows he's going to marry sometime soon. "Movie night, or would you like to play again?"

She rubs her abdomen against him, her voice sounds husky, "Play..., let's make Saturday night play night." Her hand moves on top of his crotch, and she smiles seductively, rubbing him softly.

He feels his cock harden, "Deal," he says, as she moans softly, "any special wishes?"

She nods, but says nothing. He raises his eyebrows; she grins, "You'll see..." She lets go of him, hooks her fingers behind the collar of his T-shirt, and starts dragging him towards their bedroom again, just like she had done the Saturday before. He follows meekly - he would be mad not to. Once inside the bedroom she lets go of him, and locks the door behind them. He looks questioningly at her, she grins, "We got lucky last time; I don't want Mischka to walk in on us while we're doing stuff like this."

He raises his eyebrows, "But it's okay for her to walk in on us when we aren't doing 'stuff like this', when we're busy with our 'regular stuff'?"

She smiles, "We don't make THAT much noise when we're busy with our 'regular stuff', and the 'regular stuff' also happens BENEATH the comforter, remember?"

He chuckles, "Ah yes, I'd forgotten about that." She walks towards her closet, retrieving a cardboard box from the top shelf, then she walks towards the door to the en-suite, the box beneath her arm.

He watches her open the door, and she turns around, "I want you to undress, then sit yourself down on the bed, just like last time. You're going to have to have some patience, but you won't regret it, I promise." He watches her disappear inside the en-suite, locking the door behind her. Within a minute the tap starts to run. He starts undressing, and by the time he's naked the toilet has been flushed too. He sits on the edge of the bed, while maybe fifteen minutes pass, during which the toilet gets flushed two more times.

Silence returns, and the lock on the bathroom door clicks, the little shield switching from red to green again. She comes out naked, except for a pair of red heels, black fishnet stockings, and a black garter-belt. He didn't know she had the stuff, and wonders where she got it, and when. She walks towards him, his eyes lock on her magnificent breasts. They wiggle slowly, seductively, in the rhythm of her gait.

His eyes drop down to her bald pussy, framed by the garter-belt; he swallows. She stops in front of him, and he can just make out her glistening clit swollen inside her obviously wet slit. She clears her throat, and he looks up, blushing guilty. She smiles, "Don't blush, you did nothing you aren't allowed, or expected, to do." She slowly turns around, and then spreads her feet shoulder wide and bends over, just like she had done the Saturday before. This time he doesn't see her pussy, because his eyes lock on something else. What his eyes lock on is this shiny disc where her little asshole should be.

It's the size of a large coin, and there's this bold engraving; 'Fuck Me'. "It belongs to a set of three," her voice sounds hoarse. "It's called a 'training set'. I ordered it last Monday, and I got it Tuesday afternoon, luckily just before you arrived home from work. After you left for work, on Wednesday, I used the smallest one, which is about an inch thick, and is marked 'Not Yet' by the way, I wore it until you returned home. On Thursday it was time for the 'medium' one, which is about one and a half inches thick, and marked 'Almost There', that was a bit of a struggle."