Klitzman's Predators Book One Page 11

  I washed her body with all the tenderness I could muster. I soaped her breasts and belly, washed between her legs, her neck and face. I rinsed her hair and dried it. All the while, I left her hands free. Against policy, but the girl calmly accepted my instructions and ministrations. When done, I ushered her to the toilet and sat her down. She looked away as she released the liquid from her body. I handed her the toilet paper and allowed her to wipe herself. Finally, I led her back to the table and chair. Pulling a box from the cabinet, I measured her wrists and ankles. She stared glumly as I affixed the bracelets and anklets to her limbs. I prepared to apply the gag and hood. As I placed them on the table before her, she suddenly came out of her reverie and began to cry again. She could see the women in the cots. She knew what these were for and what would happen next. Darkness, silence, confinement. Her body displayed, available. For how long? How could she know? Who would she see when they were removed? Me? Florez? Estelle?

  I touched her cheek softly and caressed her face. I could find no words of comfort.

  She spoke quietly. “Oh, mister, what is happening to me? Please help me, please?” I placed my finger across my lips, signaling her to be silent. She nodded tearfully. I took the gag from the table, gently pushed it into her open mouth and fixed it in place. Her eyes closed as I lifted the hood over her head. I covered her, buckling and locking the straps below her chin. I stood her up and walked her to an empty cot. She was trembling slightly, but lay down willingly. I guessed that the drug was taking effect, as her movements were dreamlike, slow. I snapped her wrists in place on the wall ring and then, spreading her legs, fastened her ankles to the rings on each side.

  I caressed her body softly, her pale breasts, her tender thighs. I could hear soft sobs from behind the hood. I then stood and surveyed my handiwork. She looked anonymous, strange with her head bagged, her body displayed. Just like the others: breasts, a cunt, the important stuff. The difference in the color of her pubic hair, her size and shape in the end meant little. Valuable property.

  The girl’s rhythmic breathing told me she had fallen into a sleep. Undoubtedly her dreams would be difficult, tense. Her neighbors lay around her, their limbs pinioned, their identities masked. Bodies, not people. Recently free, soon to be enslaved. This had to end, I thought to myself, it could not go on. But to end it, it must go on. I could free them all, here tonight, perhaps, catch Draco, Estelle and Florez off guard. Maybe wait till tomorrow while Draco and Florez were out checking the rendezvous point. But, if I waited, acted only when the time was right, waited for instructions from my control before striking, maybe I could free them all, all over the globe. I could prevent hundreds, maybe thousands from suffering this same fate, save their families and loved ones from pain and dismay at their disappearance. As hard as it might be, I had to go on, unleashing the beast in myself to trap the beast that was Klitzman and his empire.

  I looked down again at the prostrate girl. My heart hardened. I turned, shut off the light and locked the door.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MARA GETS IN A LITTLE DEEPER

  Only once did I come close to penetrating Nikos’ well-guarded life. As usual, I had come home around 6:30. He was not there. Although many nights he would be sitting in the easy chair across from the door, smoking, drinking a tumbler of cognac, more frequently lately, he was not and arrived later, sometimes even not until after midnight. My life had become his to control, to play with. His instructions to me were that when I arrived home, regardless of where he was, I was to strip, bathe and then wait for him, kneeling at the foot of his favorite chair.

  On this night, I bathed, perfumed myself as Nikos liked, and knelt waiting for him as instructed. About an hour later he entered. I could tell something was wrong. Rather than smile in contemplation of his pleasures as he stepped through the door, he was wincing, his shoulders hunched. He nodded at me and then took his jacket off which had been draped across his shoulders and threw it to the floor. I could see the blood dripping from his shoulder. I gasped. He nodded and then walked through the living room to the bathroom. I followed him, anxiously, wanting to help, afraid to ask what had happened.

  He sat on the edge of the tub and peeled his shirt off. I could see a 6" long slice at the crux of his chest and shoulder. The blood had washed down his arm and chest and had stained the top of his trousers. I rushed to the medicine cabinet and pulled out some gauze and peroxide. I washed it while he smiled ironically. My anxiety amused him.

  When I got the blood washed from the wound, I could see that the cut was long but not deep. Clearly it had been made by someone slashing at him. “Nicky,” I said, “you should get this stitched. This is dangerous.”

  “Tomorrow perhaps,” he said. “Tonight I will rest here. Give me a towel, I’ll stop the bleeding. You get me something to eat. I’m starved. And you must be too. Make something.”

  I nodded. I was speechless. What I knew of Nicky I could put in a teaspoon. I had an understanding that my life and his were different, that he belonged to a side of life I knew nothing about. But it had never been driven home so clearly, so concretely.

  I rushed to the kitchen to put up some water for pasta and heated up some sauce Nicky had made the night before. I was, of course, still naked, and I felt a little silly running around nude with Nicky bleeding in the bathroom. I grabbed a robe from the bedroom and went into the living room to make sure the door was locked. I saw Nicky’s jacket on the floor. I picked it up to put it on a chair. I could feel a wallet on the inside, and a small hard object in the right pocket. Nicky had told me not to ask him any questions about his life away from me, but now, my curiosity was piqued. I could hear Nicky running water in the bathroom, filling the tub. For a moment, I hesitated. Would I be betraying his trust? Would I be breaking the spell which held me to Nicky, bound me to him and his desires? But the need to know was too strong.

  The right outside pocket of the jacket held a small pistol, sliver, deadly looking. My heart pounded as I felt its weight, its power in my hand. I quickly put it back. Inside I pulled the wallet from the pocket and opened it. The first thing I saw was Nicky’s passport. Greek, of course. His picture inside was as dark and foreboding as I knew him to be. His name was Nikos Krikorios. I realized that I had never learned his last name before. The passport was well used, ‘stamps of many countries’ as the song goes. But then I found more, a Spanish identity card in the name of Nickolas Negron, a Brazilian passport in the same name. And a Byelorussian passport in the name of Nik Strakoff. All the pictures were definitely Nicky.

  I was about to open the other side when I heard a movement behind me. The next thing I felt was an arm flashing around my neck, another grabbing my arm and pulling it up behind my back. I felt immediate, excruciating pain. I dropped the wallet, moaning loudly. My throat was crushed and constricted by Nicky’s arm so that only a little squeak escaped. The pain in my arm was so intense I was blinded by a flash of light. In a second I was on the floor. Nicky was breathing in my ear.

  “What are you doing, cunt? A little spying, perhaps?”

  I struggled to deny it, to beg forgiveness to plead for air and release from pain. My need for oxygen became desperate.

  “Should I just let you die here and now? I have already killed today. One more would mean nothing. Do you want to live?”

  My body was convulsing now, I could sense but not see the redness of my face, the bulging of my eyes. I blubbered out my prayer for life. Nicky looked me in the eyes. I could tell he was weighing me, assessing his needs and pleasures. I only had a few seconds left when he suddenly released the pressure around my neck. My arm was held tight behind me, up around my shoulder blade. I gasped for breath, ignoring the shocks of pain which drove through me as my chest heaved.

  After a few moments, I was able to blurt out a plea for release. Tears were coursing down my face. Nicky was still staring deep into my eyes. I knew I was not out of danger.

  Suddenly Nicky released my arm and stood up, pulling me to my feet. Grabbing my robe’s lapels with his left hand he slapped my hard across the face. I began to scream. He stifled it by closing his hand around my throat. He lifted me up on my toes. I stared helplessly at him.

  For a moment I could see the anger boiling behind his eyes. And then like a shadow crossing over his face, it disappeared. He smiled slightly, lowered me off of my toes, loosened his grip around my neck. I could see that his shoulder was bleeding still.

  “Now, child, can we learn a little lesson from this?” he said, a trace of humor in his voice. I nodded fearfully.

  “Good. Now first of all, you are not naked. Take off your robe now.” He released me and I quickly let the robe fall to the floor. I could see the blood from his shoulder smeared across the back. I worried about the rug.

  “Now, I am going to finish cleaning up. I don’t want to be disturbed again, understand?” I nodded again, speech being impossible for me for the time being.

  Nicky reached over my shoulder and grabbed a clump of hair at the back of my neck. I flinched in anticipation of a blow, but none came. Firmly holding my head down, he pulled me out of the living room, through the kitchen and into the bedroom. I stumbled after him, fearing the worst. I still could not speak, never mind yell or scream. My heart was in my throat.

  When we entered the bedroom, Nicky pulled me over to the bed and threw me down. “Stay there,” he ordered.

  I heard him leave the room and walk down the hall. I lay with my head covered by my arms, crying softly, my face buried in a pillow. Suddenly, he returned. “Put your arms behind you.”

  I complied. He tied them together with a narrow leather thong. He had never tied me before. He pulled me to my feet and pushed me back down on the bed. My hands were crushed into my back where they had been tied. As I looked up at Nicky, I could see that he had a longer, wider strap. Where he had gotten it I didn’t know. Had he stocked my apartment with these things in anticipation of a day like today? I had little time to speculate as he tied one end of the strap to my left ankle. A small clasp held it in place. He then passed the end over my left shoulder and turned me over. I felt it threaded through the joinder of my wrists and then passed over my right shoulder. Flipped over again, he pulled me up off of the bed and led me back into the kitchen.

  “Sit,” he ordered. I complied and sat on the floor where he indicated, on the rug which ran up to the linoleum of the cooking area. The rough carpet scraped my skin as he roughly pushed me over on my back. He then pushed my left ankle up towards my shoulder. At the same time he was pulling the strap tight. I moaned in pain.

  “Nicky, please, you’re hurting me. Please Nicky!” My voice had returned. He ignored me and pulled my right ankle up wrapping the other end of the strap around it and pulling it tight.

  I now lay on my back, my arms pulled tightly up behind me, straining my shoulders. My thighs and knees were stretched to their utmost. My sex and rear were exposed as my legs spread open, forced by the strap which connected my ankles and my bound hands behind my back. He had clipped the two leads which ran over my right and left shoulders just above my breasts and behind my neck to prevent them from slipping down over my arms. I whined in pain as the tears flowed down the sides of my face. I thought he was going to kill me.

  Nicky produced a small rubber ball. He leaned over and looked into my eyes again. I was about to beg for relief from the strains of my tie, to beg for my life when he pushed it forcefully into my mouth.

  “Now, I can get cleaned up,” he said. “Now I am sure you will not disobey me. We will talk later.”

  Nicky returned to the bathroom as I strained to balance the pain between my arms and my legs. The ball stifled my moans and cries. My struggles caused me to topple over to my side which at least eased the strain on my back caused by my tied hands. Nothing could relieve the strain on my arms, forced up my back by the pull of my legs. I prayed for release, knowing that my only choice was to wait. My fate was at Nicky’s pleasure.

  Later that evening, after I had been released, fed, massaged, and roundly fucked, Nicky spoke to me softly. “You have learned your lesson little one?”

  “Oh Nicky, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I won’t do it again, please believe me. I didn’t mean anything, I won’t do it again.”

  I had passively, dulled by pain and fear, permitted him to control my every move after he had untied me. Now, pathetically, I was begging him for forgiveness after being slapped, choked, and held as a painful prisoner for almost two hours. I was locked into him more than ever. He had demonstrated his power over me and I loved it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LOVE CONQUERS ALL

  Draco had driven into the City to set up the next snatch. Only in a big city area like New York could so many girls go missing in so short a time and cause so little commotion. Of course it paid to do your homework. Some girls were more easily missed than others. Like the runaway Estelle and I had picked up at the au pair service. She wouldn’t be missed much since no one knew where she was. And the doll tonight, well, I understood that she was more or less a “volunteer”, a playmate of a guy called Nicky. Nicky was an independent operator, quick with a knife and mean as hell. His crime MO was simple. He picked out some rich guy and told him that if he didn’t pay what Nicky wanted, he’d kill him. Some day he’d pick out the wrong guy.

  The girl squirmed nervously on the black, leather limousine seat. She had long, blond hair that fell below her shoulders, almost to her elbows. It was flaxen, like spun gold, and it framed her tan, smooth skinned face like a spotlight. She was truly a golden girl. I could smell her freshness from across the seat. It smelled like a country morning, sweet and robust. She was wearing little makeup beyond the bright red lipstick and a slight blush on her cheeks. Her dress was black satin, spread like a dark pool around her, dropping down to just below her knees.

  The top of the dress was joined in front in a low vee, exposing the cleavage of her ample breasts. I could see the edges of the lace bra that held them in place, lifting them slightly. The sleeves of the dress came down to her wrists, slightly puffed at the tops near her shoulders, tapering down to a closely fitted band. On her left wrist was a gold bracelet, polished smooth and shiny. On the other was a watch, golden too, but also studded with diamonds around the face. A nervous shake of her head revealed two long golden earrings descending from each ear, each one sporting a glittering blue jewel on its end, matching her sparkling blue eyes. Her legs were encased in sheer slightly black tinted stockings; her feet dipped gracefully into a pair of shiny black high heels. In other words, the girl was a knockout.

  Nicky sat next to her with one of those cat swallowed the canary smiles. He was dressed to the nines as well, a flashy $1500 suit, a diamond patterned silk tie, gold cufflinks. He sat with his right hand on the girl's left thigh, rubbing it gently, reassuring. He was called Nicky the Knife. A deadlier and meaner man never lived. But he was all smiles now, smiling at his new property.

  Across from the lovebirds sat Draco and myself. He was watching the girl closely, eyeing her for the instrument she soon would become. I looked back at the girl. She nervously licked her lips, her eyes darting about the interior of the limo, averting them from direct contact with anyone but loverboy.

  We had picked them up around eight o'clock outside one of those twenty story luxury buildings on the east side. The game plan was dinner at a little Italian place in Little Italy, quiet, at a table way in the back. At first the girl didn't know what it was all about. Some friends was all that Nicky had told her. But after the pasta and the veal, after the cappuccino and espresso had been served, along with four very full snifters of cognac, the real shit came down, or at least what passed for the real shit. Loverboy held the girl's hand and gazed into her eyes. "Mara, I told you that I wanted you to come out tonight for a special reason." Mara nodded. "I have told you that I love you more than I ever thought possible. It’s true. I need you and want you more than anything in the world. You know that."

  The girl's eyes softened. "Yes, Nicky, I know that. And you know that I love you too." She smiled broadly her hand in his, stroking him softly. She glanced nervously at me and Draco. I guess we didn't look like the schmaltzy type. We weren't.

  "And I've told you that I wanted to posses you, all of you, that I couldn't be happy unless I knew that you were totally mine, without reservation." She nodded slightly.

  "I told you that I was yours, Nicky, and I meant it. I love you." There's one born every minute.

  "And I told you that I was going to ask you to prove that to me, to prove that you are mine completely and that you would surrender yourself to me."

  "I am yours Nicky, believe me."

  "Please, wait till I've finished." Nicky placed his fingers over the girl's lips. She kissed them softly. "I need you to surrender your whole being to me, your flesh and your spirit. And you agreed to that. You told me that you were willing to do whatever I asked, to open yourself to me, to be possessed, even owned by me. Tonight is the night that you must show me that you meant it when you said you were mine, all mine, without reservation."

  The room was still and quiet as he paused. He took a small sip from his snifter, his eyed boring into the girl's. A small drop of cognac lingered on his lip, only to be drawn in by the tip of his tongue which darted out to claim it. A snake’s tongue was what came to mind.

  "I have told you that part of what I will demand of you is the total surrender of your will and body to me and my desire for you. You must decide, here, tonight, now, whether these were just words to you. If they were just words, then you must say so, and I will leave you alone, step out of your life like I was never there. If they were not just words, then now is the time when you must be ready to prove this to me by accepting what I desire and demand, without question, without knowledge of what it is I will ask. Do you understand me?"

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