"Maybe I could get a membership." he said. "How expensive could it be?"
I snuggled closer to his side in the cabin of his little sailboat. It was the only place we could think of that my stronzo husband might not think to look. "It's not that kind of membership." I sighed. "This place has one clientele, and they are all... in the business."
"So, colleagues of his?"
I sniffed and nodded. "Colleagues, partners, rivals, bosses, subordinates..." A shiver shook my shoulders and made fresh panic fill my heart. "Oh god. What am I going to do?"
"The police?" He suggested, though I knew he really knew better.
"I'd be found floating in the river." I said.
He nodded. "Could we pay him off to let you go?"
I smirked. "He probably has more money than you've earned in your entire life." The options were few, and the chances of escaping this humiliation were bleak at best. If I wanted my freedom, and I did, I would have to perform.
I lay there, snuggled up to my lover, wishing I'd never fallen for the rich bastard and his poisonous charm.
I knew I had no choice. If I refused, he'd get me out of the way with a more permanent solution. He wanted to humiliate me, so I'd have no support from the family. They'd call me a puttana, treat me like one, then dump me and forget I ever existed. Mob wives like me are pretty decorations for her man to show off. But when we become inconvenient, or when we step out of line, we can be discarded like worn out socks. And I was both inconvenient and out of line.
I hugged my Willy tighter, and wept a while. I couldn't see a way out, and I knew I would have to play the stronzo's sick, perverted game. I just hoped I still had my Willy after.
"If I do this," I whimpered between sobs. "Will you still want me?"
"What?" Willy scoffed. "Stefi. I'm not going anywhere." He stroked my hair soothingly. "If you have to do this, I'll be waiting to drive you home after. I won't let you go through this alone, and I won't abandon you after."
I just hoped he was serious. "I should go home then. I'll need to rest before tomorrow night."
"Can you drive in your state?" he asked.
"I'll manage." I finished the box of tissues he gave me when we started to talk, and I tossed the used one onto the pile with all the others. We shared a long goodbye kiss, and I feared it might be our last. Then I got into my car and drove home.
The stronzo was watching football with a glass of red wine. He raised his glass to me as I entered. "Ahh! There's the puttana!" He snarled. "Does your boyfriend know what we have planned for you tomorrow night? Hmm?" he laughed. "Does he know he'll have a whore for a girlfriend soon?"
I wanted to find something big and heavy to smash over his head.
"Go to bed." He commanded. "And don't wear anything. I might want to fuck that cunt of yours while I can still afford it." He laughed again.
Thankfully, the stronzo slept in another room that night. I got a precious few hours of sleep anyway. The looming anxiety of what was about to happen wasn't going to let me rest.
I spent almost the entire day in the bedroom. I didn't want to eat or go outside. I just curled into a ball on my reading chair and prayed for some miracle to rescue me from this fate.
The hours crept by and I watched the clock tick away minute by minute until the sun set and I could see the clock anymore.
The door lock was opened and in walked the stronzo. He had a shopping bag in hand and tossed it on the bed. "Put that on." He demanded and turned to leave.
"Anthony, wait!" I pleaded.
He stopped but didn't turn around.
"I know I wasn't the perfect wife." I said carefully. "I know that. But Anthony, I was always good to you, wasn't I? I made myself pretty for you, I traveled with you, I cooked and cleaned. I even let you take me out to your... favorite places. Remember how I danced at your cousin's bachelor party? I was embarrassed but I did it, for you. And when you wanted me to let Ricco have his way with me, and I didn't like it, but I did it so you could get the promotion? I did that for you. Can't you just let me go. I don't need the money. Just let me go out of your kindness and the love we once shared. Please?"
He lowered his head, and I had a hope that I might have gotten to him. But when he turned around, all I saw was cruelty. "A good wife?" he sneered. "That's a laugh." He turned and grabbed me by the neck and pushed me back against the wall. "A good wife wouldn't have danced at a bachelor party. A good wife wouldn't have given handjobs in a theater. A good wife wouldn't have bent herself over a table and let another man fuck her just to promote her husband's career." He let go of my neck and glared down at me.
"A good wife wouldn't have fucked her young college boys like a puttana. No, you slut. You were not a good wife." He stabbed a finger at the bag on the bed. "Put it on and were those ridiculous shoes with those heels that make you look like a slut. Just that. Nothing else. Understood?"
He stormed out and I cried again for the next half hour. When I finally pulled myself together enough to open the bag, I felt my heart sink. I pulled out a black latex corset dress. Snug on top, snug on the bottom, and it looked like it would hardly cover any of my abundant curves.
It took me the rest of the hour to squeeze myself into the too small outfit. As I put it on, I found the skirt had sippers on both sides that went all the way up to my waist. I unzipped them and gaped at the result. My skirt in front and in back just hung there, easy enough to lift out of the way. I dried my face and fixed my makeup, then strapped on my six in pumps and checked myself in the mirror. I looked like a hooker, which I'm sure was the intent.
I had to take the stairs slowly, and Tony was waiting at the door. "There you are." He said looking me up and down.
