I skull the rest of my glass and walk around behind Gio. I pull the whip back in my hand and fling it forward, striking Gio’s back. One. I strike him again. Two. And again. Gio stays silent, his eyes locked straight ahead. Three. Over and over until I reach ten and his back is red raw, some nearly deep enough that it’s ripped his skin.
“What brand is my favorite whiskey?” he says to me. Shit. It’s always in a fancy crystal bottle. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a label.
“Umm, Chivas Regal…” I wince, waiting for the outcome.
“Wrong.” He picks up the clamps from the table. He walks over to me and turns us so he’s standing in front of me, shielding me from Gio—not that he’s going to get out of the bunker alive. He pulls down my dress so my tits are hanging out and attaches the small clamps to my nipples, squeezing them tight. He pulls my dress back up to hide them before walking back over to the table where he grabs a knife.
“Sorry, Gio. We only had one set so we’ll have to amend slightly.” Luciano pulls out Gio’s nipple with one hand, and in one swift movement slices down with the other. Gio doesn’t make a sound. He justbites down on his lip and accepts the torture as his blood oozes from where his nipple was. Luciano chucks it on the floor and grabs the other one, slicing it off as well. He wipes the blood from the knife onto his pants, and the look he gives me makes my knees weak.
“What was the name of the diner I worked at?” I ask.
“Doug’s Diner.” He smirks because he knows I purposely gave him an easy one. I walk over and jump onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist. I lean in and kiss him, my hands twining through his hair before I pull him closer to me and grind on him. His dick grows harder against me. I bite his lip and jump down, waiting to see what punishment he’ll give Gio.
He walks over to the table and grabs the cattle prod and gives it to me. “Your kiss was electric, so you can shock him,” he tells me.
I walk over in front of Gio and press the cattle prod. It hits him in the stomach, and he wiggles underneath the shock.
“What’s my last name?” he asks me.
My face drops. I don’t think I know any of the brothers’ last names. “Marino?” I randomly guess.
“Wrong. Moretti.” Shit, another punishment. He walks over to the table and takes his time to decide. He picks up the knife and walks back to me. My eyes widen. What’s he going to do with that?
“Hand or leg?” he asks me.
“Ahh. Leg?”
He bends in front of me, running the blade up my leg. He lifts my dress higher and gently presses the knife against my inner thigh, hard enough to pierce the skin but not hard enough that the cut will need stitches. The sting lasts a couple seconds until it’s covered by warmth. I look down and see he’s licking the cut, lappingaway my blood.Oh, my God.
He walks over to Gio and swipes the blade across his legs, cutting him deep in multiple spots. He reaches up and does the same to his chest. It looks like Gio got into a fight with cat.
“Ready to give the name up yet?” Luciano growls at Gio.
Gio spits at Luciano, his gaze now fixated on me. “She will get what she deserves. She is no Carlisi, filthy half-blood whore.”
Luciano punches him repeatedly in the head, knocking him out. “Get me the bucket of water,” Luciano yells towards me.
I quickly rush to the table and grab the bucket of water, throwing it at Gio’s face. He startles awake, grunting out his disapproval.
I try to distract Luciano. If he had it his way, Gio would be dead, but we haven’t got the name out of him yet. “What was my pet dog’s name?”
The look Luciano gives me sends shivers throughout my body. “You didn’t have a dog, you didn’t have any pets,” he says to me.
My face drops. How did he know that? Now I have to think of a reward…
I grab the chair in the corner and place it in the middle of the room, facing Gio. I grab Luciano and make him sit on it, then pull out my phone and open Spotify to play a random song. And then I start dancing in front of him. He looks at me like he did the first time I saw him in the club; his eyes hungry, wanting more. I close the distance and straddle his lap, dancing and grinding on him.
I can hear Gio muttering behind us, “Whore,” and, “This isn’t how a Don acts.” But I continue dancing on Luciano until the song ends, his eyes never leaving mine.
He leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. He signals to hop off so he can walk over to the table where he picks up the fishing line and needle. “Gio should not have watched what’s mine.” He walks over to Gio. “Hold his head still,” he tells me. I walk behind Gio andgrab hold of his head to keep him in place. Luciano digs his fingers into Gio’s eye sockets and gouges out his eyeballs. Gio tries to pull his head out of our grip as he lets out a scream, but between the two of us, it’s hopeless.Pop, they go out the socket.
Luciano hands me the needle. “Sew his eyelids shut.”
I hesitate, slowly making my way in front of Gio. Luciano shoves the needle into my hand and pushes me closer to Gio. I look back at Luciano and take a deep breath. I hold his eyelid shut and pierce the needle through his skin. I don’t think about what I’m doing, I just do it. Gio’s body trembles underneath my grip—I think he’s going into shock.
We continue going back and forth for a while, asking each other questions, dishing out punishments and rewards. The whole time, Gio receives a slightly different version of ours, and the whole time he never gives up a name. But what shocks me the most is the more we torture him, the more turned on I’m getting—the sexual tension between Luciano and I is off the charts.
I decide to up the reward. “What’s my father’s name?” I ask Luciano.
