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TAKE HER, BREAK HER BOOK FIVE (Declan Brand)


TAKE HER, BREAK HER BOOK FIVE by Declan Brand

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Flash Fanelli couldn't believe his luck, a beautiful girl just walking up to his doorstep and offering sex in exchange for a place to sleep! The fact that the girl had killed her mother, a friend of Fanelli's, made it that much more perfect.

Until he found out the truth.

At the same time, an aging Mafia Don has a special job for Fanelli and his partner - the taking and training of a beautiful cheerleader. It's too bad that Fanelli doesn't trust the Don - he can't turn him down.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 12 / 2013

No. words: 37566

Style: Bondage/BDSM Thrillers, Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

Click Here For All Books In This Series


Excerpt

INTRODUCTION

Heather Burkett was tired. Tired, sad, and above all, sore in places where she really did not want to be sore. Damn Mom and her stupid boyfriend! She wiped a stray strand of hair from her eyes and turned left into a tree-lined road that seemed to go in the direction she wanted. Why wouldn’t she believe me? Why would she take his side!
Her mother’s boyfriend, a big man, had slid into her bed after finishing with her Mom and tried to enter her from the rear. Heather had objected—done her best to fight him off--push him off the bed. But he had persisted, grabbing her wrists and pulling them behind her while he jammed his dick deep into her virgin anus, hurting her with every move.
Heather had cried out—loud enough to wake Mom—but that hadn’t done her any good at all. Mom had simply giggled and watched as her boyfriend thumped into Heather’s ass over and over and over again.
It wasn’t as if Heather hadn’t had some experience with men—Hell no!—in fact, her mother had sold the girl’s young body many times to help pay the rent or put food on the table. Heather understood that. It was part of her life.
But she should have helped me this time. She shook her head angrily. She’s my damn Mother!
But mother or not, Carole hadn’t come to help. Heather had suffered the attack and, first thing the next morning, packed what few things she cared about and hit the road. She had to be careful where she went—the ass-loving boyfriend was a cop and the main road out of town was on his patrol route.
All I have to do, Heather kept telling herself, is work through the back roads until I hit the Garden State Parkway. There’s a rest area there where I’m sure I can get a ride…
That had been her mantra when she started—many hours earlier—now, feet almost as sore as her violated ass, she was just looking for a place to hole up for the night.
And not having much luck.
She looked around, not recognizing the neighborhood she was in. I wanted to avoid the main drags, make sure that the cops—and Mom—couldn’t find me…
She shook her head. I did too good a job with that!
She was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the main roads, walking down a road that seemed to stretch forever. I’ve got to find a place to spend the night; Heather glanced at the horizon where the sun was just going down. Don’t want to make myself a target for gangs or weirdos. She began to scan the area around her. It was heavily wooded with not a single home in sight. Just get under cover for a couple of hours then, in the morning, I can find the Garden State and get the hell out of this place.
There was a light just ahead—shining out of the window of a nondescript sort of building. It looked as if it might have been a small factory at one point, although it was clear that nobody was working there now. There’re more lights in the back! Heather walked into the driveway. Someone must live here. She shuffled down the gravel path, tried to push her hair into place, tightened her already too-tight halter top even as she pulled it down a bit to show some cleavage. Someone who won’t hurt me like my Mom and her bastard of a boyfriend …

CHAPTER ONE

Bob ‘Flash’ Fanelli sipped a cold beer while he half-watched the big screen television in the living room, too tired to do anything else right that minute. He and the rest of the Atlantic City Police Force had spent the day searching for a young girl—a girl who had killed her mother earlier that morning. Fanelli had known the killer and the victim, Carole Burkett, for years. Her mother brought her to Atlantic City as a pre-teen and groomed her to be a dancer/showgirl—she certainly had the looks for it.
Fanelli had dated her once or twice while the two were in High School but nothing serious ever developed between them. She was pregnant when she graduated—Fanelli didn’t know who the father was. What he did know was that she had been abandoned and, after Casino jobs dried up (nobody wanted a dancer with a daughter backstage), she had begun to make what money she could with her looks, first as a high-priced call girl—later as just another hooker on the streets.
When her daughter reached a certain age, Carole had begun to use the teenager as a lure for Johns, bringing them to the house where either mother or daughter would service them.
Fanelli, back from the sand box and on the Police Force by then, busted her a few times—but had never had the heart to put her in jail. She was just a lost soul, he told himself. I knew that. He shrugged. Maybe I should have tried harder to save her—and her little girl.
That little girl was now a nineteen year old murderer on the run.
He took another sip of his beer—then leaped to his feet as the front gate’s sensor alarm went off. Visitors? He glanced at the clock. At this time of night? He headed for the kitchen and the surveillance array. Who could they be?
The surveillance cameras showed a single female figure coming up the driveway. A girl dressed in halter top and cut-off jeans.
Is this a joke? Fanelli asked himself. Did Gianetto set this up? He adjusted the image on the main monitor, trying to get a closer look at the girl. Damn but that looks like…
He turned and headed for the garage. He had to be sure.

***

Heather Burkett wasn’t sure if there was anyone home in this odd place. There are lots of lights, she told herself. But I can’t see anything through the windows… She wondered if she should just turn around and try somewhere else.
Then the garage door began to roll upward.
“Hello!” Heather tugged her halter down a little more. “Hey! Maybe you can help me!”
“Maybe.” A man stepped into view. All the lights were behind him, making him little more than a shadow. Heather squinted as she looked at him. Kinda tall, she told herself. And pretty well built. She felt a smile cross her lips. This might not be that bad!
“I’m looking for a place to spend the night,”
“This isn’t a hotel.” The form pointed back the way she’d come. “For one of those you need to go that way.”
“I don’t have any money,” Heather took another step forward, deliberately swaying her hips. “I was hoping that we might be able to work something out…”
“Maybe we can.” The figure took a step backwards. “Come on in. Let’s talk about it.”
Heather smiled and accepted the invitation, not for a second worrying about what could happen to her…
It was her last mistake as a free woman.

***

Fanelli let the girl walk into the garage as if that were a perfectly normal thing to do. Yep, he studied her face—the same face that had been given out at roll call this morning--along with a photo of the very dead elder Ms. Burkett, her head split open by a filthy glass ashtray—one that had the younger Ms. Burkett’s prints all over it. Yep, that’s her. He smiled as she worked her body, rolling her hips, doing everything she could to look seductive.
“This is what I had in mind, mister.” She took a few steps into the oversized area. “I figure we could have a little fun together, then maybe you could slip me a few bucks and…” She squinted at his face. “Hey! I know you!”
“You do.” Fanelli smiled and pushed the button that closed the door. “And I knew your mother.”
Heather looked confused about that. “Yeah, I’ve seen you at the apartment. So?”
“So,” Fanelli took a long step forward and slapped the girl backhanded. “She was my friend.”
Heather staggered backwards, Fanelli staying right with her.
“My friend,” he punched her in the solar plexus, watched her double over. “And now…” He grabbed her left arm, pulled it behind her, snapped on the handcuffs he had brought with him. “You’re going to pay for killing her.” The cuffs locked tight on her right wrists, leaving her quite helpless.
“You came to the wrong house, bitch!” Fanelli grabbed a handful of her raven hair and forced her to frog-march along beside him, her body bent at the waist. “And now you’re going to pay the price.”
The two of them went through the door into the training room, Fanelli striding triumphantly, the girl wobbling along beside him, dazed and frightened.

***

What happened? Heather finally shook off the effects of Fanelli’s blows. Why did he hit me? She tried to think of anything she had done wrong. I didn’t do anything to him! A new thought struck her. And he’s a cop! She remembered him coming to the apartment to talk to Mom. Mom! She vaguely recalled him saying something about her mother but couldn’t quite remember what.
She tried to sit up—and groaned at the pain in her stomach. Shit! She remembered his fist driving into her before he cuffed her hands behind her back. Bastard! She tried to move her wrists within the cuffs, trying to see how loose they were.
They weren’t loose at all.
What else did he do to me? She shook off the fear that threatened to take over her mind and tried to yell to the cop--unsuccessfully. There’s something in my mouth. She tried to push whatever it was out with her tongue—to no avail. Okay, so he’s got me gagged. She bit into the cloth that filled her mouth and forced herself into a sitting position. I still have all my clothes… She shifted her feet, felt the cuffs that held her ankles together. Can’t run like this …
She let herself drop back onto her side, her cheek resting on the cold concrete floor. What can I do? I can’t run, I can’t scream…
She lay there, mind whirling, wondering what he was going to do to her.
And why he seemed so angry.

***

Fanelli allowed himself a smile as he sipped his coffee and watched the struggles of the girl in the center of the training room. Heather Burkett had very nearly stripped off her halter top as she struggled to wriggle her way out of the hogtie that Fanelli had placed her in.
Nice tits, he thought as he studied the fleshy mounds. Full and firm. He smiled. Our customers will like that. She has good legs too. He leaned back in his chair. I wonder what the rest of her looks like? Fanelli had been worried that the girl might be a trap of some kind—a lure to get at him. He had searched her thoroughly as he tied her, looking for a bug or a tracker.
He found nothing and a quick check of his security systems showed no cars anywhere in the area. She came in on her own, he nodded at the thought. It’s strange, but there seems no other explanation.
He watched her struggles. I’ll have to ask her what brought her here. A smile played across his lips. It’ll be fun to make her tell me. His smile widened. Life was good—he had a free girl to play with—better still, a girl who deserved everything he did to her. After all, he nodded. This bitch killed her own mother.
How will I start, Fanelli asked himself stirring from his chair. The whip? Or something else…
He had lots of time. It was Friday night-- he was off duty until Monday afternoon—lots of time to begin the pleasant task of breaking this girl who had literally fallen into his lap.
I think it’s time to see what the rest of her looks like; Fanelli took a last sip from his coffee cup and rose. I’m gonna enjoy this!
The girl turned her head toward the sound of an opening door. She tried to say something—but the simple cloth gag garbled whatever is was she tried to yell in his direction.
“Time to see just what you were planning to offer me, Ms. Burkett.” He smiled as he saw her eyes widen. “Yes, I know who you are. The whole precinct is looking for you.” He squatted alongside her. “I wonder why you picked my house to stop. Was it because I’m so far off the beaten path?” He had decided that was the only explanation. “It doesn’t really matter.” Fanelli took his clasp knife from his pocket. “You’re here now…”
He grabbed the handcuffs holding her wrists together and rolled her onto her side. “Don’t move now…” The knife blade, carefully sharpened, touched the center of her halter top—right between her firm young breasts. “Wouldn’t want you to lose any skin here…” Fanelli applied pressure, watched the knife cut through the taut cloth as if it were paper. “There,” the halter fell away. “Very nice.” He put the knife down in front of her nose, took a moment to explore her breasts with his free hand. “Yes,” he pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Very nice indeed.”
She tried to squirm away from him but his grip on her wrists held her firmly in place. “Now,” he told her, reclaiming the knife. “It’s time to see if the rest of you is worth my time.” He touched the knife to the front of her cut-offs. “If I were you,” he cut downward. “I think I would suck in my breath.” The knife slit through the cloth, freeing her right leg. “One more to go.” The left leg received the same treatment.
“Now,” Fanelli grabbed the front of the shorts—right in front of her crotch—and pulled them away. “That’s disappointing,” he said as he tossed the rags to one side. “I expected a thong.” He touched the front of her simple white panties. “Ah well,” the knife came into play once more and, moments later, Heather Burkett lay on her stomach, naked save for the handcuffs and the gag tied around her mouth and lower jaw.
“I have to say that you do have nice muscle tone.” Fanelli slapped her ass, smiling as she tried to squirm away. “I guess you work out.” He cupped her ass cheek, allowed his fingers to explore her bottom, touching the base of her cunt which, to his surprise, was wet. “Interesting,” he smelled his finger before putting it in front of her nose. “I see you enjoy this kind of thing.” He slapped her ass again as she tried, once again, to avoid his hand. “Let see just how much.”
Fanelli stood and headed for the equipment drawer at the side of the room. He had an idea and wanted to see what the girl’s reaction would be.
“Let’s start with this…” He stepped in front of the now-naked woman and showed her the odd collection of straps and instruments in his hands. “I’m sure you recognize this.” He held up a plastic dildo, holding it right in front of her face before working its base up one of the straps. “This,” he held out a squatty plastic item, “may not be as familiar.” Again he put it in front of her face. “This is a butt plug.” He grinned as she pulled away. “I see you don’t like that idea.” He worked the butt plug onto the strap below the dildo. “Tough.” He grabbed the handcuffs with his left hand and slid the girl toward him, knowing that the rough texture of the floor would abrade her soft flesh. “We’ll insert the butt plug first, I think…”
She tried to squirm away from him, tried to tense her ass muscles enough to deny the plastic device entry—but it was no use. Fanelli just kept working the plug deeper and deeper into her anus until its base plate touched her skin.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he patted her ass as she lay there in shocked discomfort. “Was it?” The dildo slid into the edge of her cunt before she realized what he was doing. “And this…” He pushed the dildo deep inside her, smiling at her wordless cry. “Now we just pull everything nice and tight…” A second strap ran through a loop at one end of the strap now between her legs. He pulled it tightly around her waist, fastening it with a buckle just under her bellybutton. The tongue of the nether strap ran into a second buckle alongside the first and Fanelli pulled it as tight as he could, the whuff of air being forced out of the girl’s lung telling him when to stop.
“I think that will do for now.” He patted her ass cheek, now separated and lifted by the strap running between her legs. “But I don’t just want to let you lie around all night…” He returned to the equipment table and selected the item he wanted. “Let’s get you up on your knees.” He grabbed a handful of hair and pulled until her whimpering form was upright. “Now this goes right here…” The pole he had taken from the equipment area went between her handcuffed arms and into one of a number of preset anchor holes in the floor. He let it drop downward until a loud click told him that the lock had activated.
“That should be nice and secure.” He shook the top end of the pole to make sure it couldn’t be pulled out. “Yes, that’s good.” He again grabbed a handful of hair and pulled the girls’ head back until her neck touched the pole right over the metal band that was a part of it. That band then went around her neck and locked in place, holding her upright with her head and neck ramrod straight.
“Almost there.” Fanelli returned to the equipment table and took two more things. “First we’ll pull your legs back…” He yanked her ankles back and up until they were touching about midway up the pole, then ran a strap from just above her knees twice around the pole, finally buckling it behind her. She was now fixed to the pole.
“And just to make sure you’re nice and comfortable…” A three-foot piece of metal, triangular in cross section, went under her knees, the point immediately digging into the tender skin just under the kneecap.
“There.” Fanelli stood and admired his handiwork. “I think that will do for the moment,” he squatted down to look the girl in the eye. “I’ll be back to give you a whipping in a little while.” He patted her cheek. “Think about how that will feel!”
He left her then, her sobs barely discernible through the wad of cloth that filled her mouth.


Author Information

Started as a writer for the long-defunct HOM brand in the United States. Spent time as a film writer/editor, a novelist, and an educator.
Now dabbling in this and that--and writing about my long love of bondage and discipline

 

Publisher Information

Publishers of non-adult and adult fiction. Authors, experienced and new are welcome. We have a number of different sites for various genres, including specialist sites for Romance (www.a1romancestories.com, our non-adult and erotica site at www.fiction4all.com and a number of adult sites based around our main site at www.a1adultebooks.com


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