My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 15 "Finale" (7 page)

“No, I punched her in the stomach.”
He frowned. “I’ve been with the Donatelli so long I’m becoming one. To hit a
woman, I am truly ashamed.”

“You should be and when I’m—”

“—not crippled with pain, you’ll take
retribution,” he said, finishing my sentence. “Of which you have every right to.
No matter what she said and did, I shouldn’t have hit her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m ashamed of what I did and want
to apologize.”

“Then apologize to her, not me.”

His gaze moved to Rita. “I
apologize for striking you, I just wish my auntie and uncle never met you. You
should never have used them to escape your lover. They were too kindhearted to
say no.”

“The Black…” She bit her lip, her
expression frustrated. I knew she wanted to tell Ercole she wasn’t the Black Russian’s
lover, but probably thought it could get us hurt. Then she exhaled loudly. “I
suppose it doesn’t make much difference if you know. Probably doesn’t even
matter if Christo knows, because now I’m part of the deal—”

“Know what?”

“I lied about being the Black
Russian’s lover. I said it to stop Christo from killing Frano. I also wanted
Christo to use his phone so he was distracted. I was going to attack him, but
forgot you were still in the barn.”

“You’re lying; the Black Russian
confirmed what you said.”

“I’m not, and I have no idea why he
played along with my story.”

“If you’re telling the truth, then
explain why an assassin was sent after you all those years ago?”

“As I said, they would’ve been after
your auntie and uncle, not me. So, stop repeating the same shit.”

“You’re a rude
troia.
You
have no respect for anyone.”

“Not for people who hold me
prisoner, beat me up, whip me, or for people who watch it. Nor do I have
respect for people who hurt my loved ones, or minions who follow those people
blindly.”

He shot to his feet. “I’m not a
minion!”

“Then why are you standing back and
allowing Christo to murder and enslave people? That’s precisely what your
auntie and uncle were fighting against. They were the loveliest people I’ve
ever known, completely selfless. And another thing, they saved me from Christo,
not
the Black Russian. And if Christo had known I was alive back then, I
wouldn’t have put it past him to cut the brake line himself.”

“He wouldn’t have hurt my auntie
and uncle just to get at you. They were his relatives too.”

“I didn’t say he did, but you’ve
seen how he treats relatives, Andriena a prime example. And one more thing, I
don’t accept your weak ass apology for hitting me,” she raised her middle
finger, “so sit on this, asshole.”

His expression turned vicious. “You
have no right to insult me! I thought you were responsible for my auntie’s and
uncle’s deaths—still do. You also said you were the Black Russian’s lover
and
he confirmed it. What am I expected to believe when everything is stacking up
against you? And it’s not just me who thinks you’re at fault. That’s why my
relatives in the FBI groomed you to kill the Black Russian—”

“What do you mean by
groomed
?”

“You don’t need to know; just that
you’re on a path you can’t change.”

“No! Tell me what makes you so damn
sure I’d kill the Black Russian.”

“Fate. Now, stop arguing with me
and help Frano. He needs his wounds cleaned and re-bandaged, they’re weeping
badly. He could also be getting an infection, since his skin is burning up. If
it sets in, he could die. We need to deal with it now before it can progress. I
will go find some antibiotics, while you take him to the bathroom and soak him
down with cool water.” Still looking angry, Ercole spun around and left the
room.

Rita’s gaze moved to me, worry
settling into her maple-colored eyes. “How are you feeling after the injection?
Are you okay to walk on your own?”

I pushed up, feeling hazy but no
longer in pain. “
Sì
.”

She took a hold of my arm. “You
look a bit wobbly, I’ll help you.” She directed me out of the room, past the
guard who resembled Ercole, and down the hallway to the bathroom, closing the door
behind us. The room was spacious, with ceramic flooring and a large white
porcelain bathtub.

She lowered me onto the toilet,
then turned around.

“I stand like a man, not sit like a
woman when I go to the toilet,” I said, pushing up.

She glanced over her shoulder, then
quickly faced away.

“Why are you acting shy?” I asked, taking
a hold of my cock.

“You’re pissing.”

“So?”

“I wouldn’t want you watching me go
to the toilet, so I assumed you’d think the same.”

“Men are proud of pissing, so you
can watch all you want.”

“Women don’t like watching men
piss.”

“So prissy,” I said, shaking my
cock. “And don’t speak for all woman, I’ve known one who liked being pissed on.
Not my thing, so I declined doing it for her. She looked like the most prim and
proper woman until I got her into the bedroom. Very deviant.”

“I don’t want to hear about your
past conquests,” she snapped.

“Jealous?” I turned around, placing
a hand on her shoulder.

She shot away from me. “Wash your
hands before touching me!”

I laughed, her reaction funny, plus
I was feeling rather happy. It was probably the drug causing it, but I didn’t
care, because I was no longer in pain.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Your expression. You’d think I’d
just given you the Plague.”

“You didn’t wash your hands after
touching your cock.”

“You’ve sucked on it and stuck your
finger up my
culo
, so what difference does it make?”

She grimaced. “Stop reminding me of
that.”

“You rape me, you get reminded of
it.”

She scowled at me. “I don’t rub
what you did to me in your face.”

“Oh, you certainly did.”

“Not anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter.” My gaze moved to
the bathtub. “I want to soak, I’m feeling too hot.” I leaned over to turn the
tap on, almost falling in.

She grabbed and steadied me. I
laughed, euphoria suddenly swamping my mind.

“What are you laughing at?” she
asked.

“No idea.” I held up my left hand
and waved it in front of my face, finding it funny too. I didn’t know why, it
just was. Maybe it was because it looked like I had ten fingers.

“I think you’re high. Just sit on
the stool,” she said, directing me to it. “I’ll get the water ready.” She placed
the plug in the bathtub and turned on the tap.

“Why are we still naked?” I asked, reaching
out to touch her
culo.

“Christo considers us slaves.”

“And I consider him wrong. No one
owns you but me.” I ran my hand down her leg.

“Frano, stop that.”

“You’re legs are so muscular, so is
your
culo
.” I pinched her ass.

“Ow! Don’t do that!” Giving me a
scowl, she headed for the cupboard, checking inside of it.

“Come here, I want to touch you.”

“No, I’m getting the bandages and antiseptic.
Test the water to see if it’s ready.”

I turned to the bath, running a
hand through the water. “It’s perfect, cool, but not cold.”

She walked over and turned the tap
off. “Can’t have it too high, I don’t want your open wounds soaking in it. Now,
I’ll help you get in.” She eased me into the bathtub, the coolness of the water
tampering down my temperature. I went to lean back, but she grabbed my arm,
stopping me.

“Move forward,” she said. “You’ll do
more damage to your back if you lean on it, plus I need to clean it.”

I shuffled forward as she grabbed
the medical supplies, placing them on the stool.

“I’m going to remove your bandages,”
she said, climbing in behind me. “Hopefully, whatever Ercole gave you will stop
you from feeling it.” She started peeling them off. “I’d kill that Rosso prick
if he wasn’t already dead.” She continued muttering as she removed the
remaining bandages and cleaned my wounds. Once finished, she climbed out of the
bath and knelt down beside me. She grabbed the soap and held it out for me to
take.

I stared at it.

“Take it and clean yourself,” she
said.

I batted at it, laughing,
everything growing funnier by the second.

She exhaled. “I’ll clean you.”

I sniggered. “Like I cleaned you.”

She scowled at me. “No, just
cleaning.”

“Why are you annoyed? I made you
come.” I waved a hand in front of my eyes. “Blindfold me. I want you to do the
same for me. Just suck on my cock instead of my tits.” I laughed. “I mean
nipples! I don’t have tits, though you can milk my cock.” I touched it,
laughing louder.

“What the hell did Ercole give
you?”

“Don’t know, but I feel happy.” I started
stroking my cock. “Make me happier, suck it.”

“Quit it, Frano.” She leaned over
and started soaping my chest.

“Just my nipple,” I sniggered. “Remember
when I ordered you to do that to yourself.”

“Shush.”

“Don’t shush me, I’m the Don. You
do what I want.”

“
Frano
.”

“No, call me Don.”

“Okay, Don, now shush.” She moved
the soap lower, asking me to move my hand. I let go of my cock. She started
cleaning it, making me groan. She quickly moved onto my legs.

“Don’t stop,” I said. “My cock’s
dirty.
Real
dirty.”

“Like your mouth, now shush.”

“Stop telling me to shush.” I
reached out and grabbed her, yanking her into the bath.

5

RITA

I yelled out as Frano yanked me on
top of him. I pulled free, snapping, “Frano!”

“It’s Don,” he sniggered. He
started waving his hand in front of me, getting distracted for a moment, the
gesture almost adorable.

I went to climb out of the bath,
but he latched onto me again. I slipped, my face planting into his crotch.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking
about. Get sucking.” He placed his hands onto the back of my head.

I yanked free and smacked his hands
out of the way. “Stop that.”

“Why? You think I’m a sexy
motherfucker, so get sucking.”

“Right now, you’re an arrogant
motherfucker, so stop it. I have to clean your back and bandage it. Your wounds
are bad.”

“Can’t feel them, but I want to feel
your gash, so sit on my cock.”

Smacking his hands again, I climbed
out of the bath.

He scowled at me. “Get back in here
or I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing, other than wash
yourself,” I said, drying my body.

“I want
figa
on my
cazzo
.”
He started singing a crude song about cocks and pussies, his voice surprisingly
good. And if it wasn’t for the vulgar words he was saying, I would’ve happily
let him continue.

“Frano, don’t be vulgar.”

He stopped singing and went to lie
back.

I grabbed his arm. “Keep forward.”

He looked up at me, giving me a big
smile. I stared back at him. His back was a mess, yet here he was grinning at
me. I knew he was drugged up to the eyeballs, but the whole situation was
surreal.

“I love you too,” he said.

“I didn’t say—” I breathed out.
“Yeah, I love you.”

“I know; that’s the only thing you
don’t lie about.”

“I don’t lie.”

“There you go, you just proved me
right.” He sniggered, then reached out for my breasts, grabbing onto one. “Put
it in my mouth,” he said, trying to pull me towards him.

I freed myself. “Finish cleaning
yourself. I’m not coming near you until you’re out of the bath.”

“Sitting or standing?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I’m out of the bath, do you
want me to sit or stand?”

“You can sit on the stool.”

He nodded, then went back to
cleaning himself, seemingly forgetting about sex.

Wondering whether the passage was
still being guarded, I poked my head out the door. The soldier by our room looked
my way. I retracted my head and closed the door.

“Finished,” Frano said.

I walked over to him, shifting the
medical supplies so he could sit on the stool.

Dripping water everywhere, he climbed
out of the bathtub and sat down. “Dry me with your tongue,” he said, grinning
at me. “Or I’ll dry you with mine.”