eyes swallow up Marzia. I can see her ass under the silk robe. I can see her puffy pussy lips peeking out.
I approach her and kneel behind her. One hand goes in her hair while the other pushes four fingers into her tight little pussy.
She gasps, unable to handle the sudden intrusion into her most private parts.
"Keep praying," I order. "Don't let me disturb you, bambina."
She prays like a good little girl, her words getting louder and louder as I work her pussy closer to an orgasm. She can't fight this, she doesn't even try to do it. I massage her tight little pussy until she's repeating just one word over and over again ‒ please.
"Give me your grandmother's chain," I demand.
She pulls it off her neck and hands it over with shaky fingers. "What do you want with it?"
"I'm taking it."
She snaps her attention to me, eyes narrowing. "Why?"
"Because. It's time to say goodbye to it."
"Why?" she demands again. "Why do you have to take away everything I love? Why can't you let me have one thing?"
"Did I not fill your room with your things from back home? Didn't I give you painting supplies? Are you not in my bedroom right now?" I growl.
"But this is the most important," she whispers. "Don't just throw it away or sell it."
"I would never," I grunt. "Just trust me. But maybe you're right. Let's have some fun with it first. We have a little visitor coming here tonight."
"W-what?" she stutters. "Please, not Nicoletta. Doesn't she already hate me enough?"
"Not her." I ring a bell.
Marzia ducks under the cover as a woman walks in.
She has pale skin covered in dark ink and black hair.
"Marzia, get out of there. Meet Darla."
She crawls from under the duvet and stares at the other woman. "Why is she here, Adrian?"
I can feel how pissed off she is, but all it does is amuse me. I make her look at me, tipping her chin back. "You trust me, don't you, bambina?"
"Yes," she says instantly.
"Good." I grin wickedly. "Darla is here, so you can prove you really are mine. My good, obedient little fucktoy. My favorite. That is what you want to be, isn't it, Marzia?"
"Y-Yes," she whispers.
"Good, you get to prove it tonight." I smooth down her hair gently. "Darla here is a tattoo artist, and she can also do piercings."
Mariza pales at my words. "What the hell..."
I delight in seeing her so stunned. "Because I'm so fucking nice, I'll let you pick," I smirk. "Tattoo or piercing?"
"I-I don't—please!" Marzia pleads.
The woman just stares at her impassively.
"Oh, you won't convince Darla to help you," I tell her easily. "She's paid more than enough to ignore your pleading. And you don't want to make your situation worse, do you?"
"Worse, how?" Marzia hisses.
"Well, I could fuck Darla instead," I muse. "Make you watch... Make you drink my cum out of her—"
"Piercing!" Marzia yelps.
"Perfect." I kiss her, rough and dominant. "Oh, by the way. It's one in your pussy, or one on each nipple. You can decide."
"What?" she shrieks. "Adrian, don't do that to me! Can't it just be—my belly button?"
"We can do that too, if you want," Darla smiles. "On top of the others of course."
Marzia seethes quietly.
Darla prepares the equipment. "Have you decided?" she asks after a few minutes.
"Yes," Marzia whispers dejectedly. "I want my nipples pierced."
"Say please," I mutter in her ear, pushing her hair off her shoulder. "Be nice."
"Please," she whispers.
"Good girl. Now hold my hand. This is going to hurt."
30
Marzia
It's over. I bit my lip so hard it bled, but it's over.
Adrian holds me in his arms while Darla packs up her things and leaves. I'm not crying, but my heart pounds with a mix of fear and adrenaline nevertheless.
Finally, we're left alone, and Adrian softly kisses my forehead. "You're okay. You were really fucking brave, bambina. I'm going to show you how proud of you I am." Gently, he lays me on my back on the bed.
I don't dare to look down at my tits where two 24-karat gold barbells now pierce my nipples. It doesn't hurt anymore. The numbing cream's worked its magic. Although, I'm still so shocked I went through with it.
Even when Adrian told me I was allowed to change my mind, I didn't. I wanted this ‒ a sign of his ownership over me. And as I lie on his bed and revel in his gaze drinking me in, I finally look down, where the spikes sparkle under the dimmed lights.
"They