Shameful Reckonings Read Online Free Page B

sorry…” she sobbed pitifully. “I’m so sorry…”
    “Spare me your lies,” Nicholas snapped. “I am tired of them. Always you are sorry, and yet you never change your ways. Boris, is she not beautiful naked?”
    “Yes, sir,” Boris nodded. His face was as expressionless as ever, his eyes invisible behind the dark sunglasses. Giancarla worked up a louder sob.
    “Take her downstairs,” Nicholas ordered. “Do as I instructed you.”
    “Yes, sir,” Boris nodded again. He started towards Giancarla. Now real panic struck her. She tried to jump away from the bodyguard, but he moved with horrifying speed. She felt his hands go around her neck, stifling the scream she had been about to make. She felt pressure on her throat, and then all the lights went out for her. Boris caught her before she could fall to the floor, lifted her up, and slung her limp body over his shoulder.

Chapter Three
    Giancarla was huddled into a little naked ball of utter misery on the old mattress somewhere down in the cellar of the mansion. The light was off, and there were no windows to the outside, so it was pitch dark as well. She didn’t know where in the cellar she was. She had woken up here after Boris had rendered her unconscious. It wasn’t a large room, but it was crammed with old furniture, unlabeled boxes and the dusty old mattress she was lying on. It was also very, very quiet in here. Try as she might, Giancarla could hear no sounds except for her own whimpering and sobbing. She had already discovered that no matter how loudly she screamed, no help would come to her. She had no strength left to scream anyway.
    She heard the door open. The overhead light came on. The bare bulb dangling from the rafters overhead cast a harsh glare. Blinking and sobbing, Giancarla turned her head to see who had opened the door. She saw Boris, and her heart sank.
    “Please,” she begged. “Please, no more. No more.”
    All Boris did was smile and shut the door behind him. She had never seen him smile before tonight, and she didn’t want to ever see him smiling again. It was a chilling smile, the smile of a prowling wolf spotting a crippled sheep. He came over to her, sat down on the mattress, and laid a big, hard hand on her hip. His touch was gentle, but Giancarla flinched from it. She had learned just how much pain and discomfort his hands could inflict. He had not struck her. He had not had to. He seemed to know just where to find the pressure points on her body and just how much pressure to apply to each one to induce anything from shudders to full-throated screams from her, and so far nothing he had done had left a mark.
    She didn’t know how long she had been down here. It seemed like days, but it could have been only a few hours. Worse, she had no idea Nicholas intended keeping her down here. So she had strayed a little. So far as she knew, all of the trophy wives strayed at one time or another, but as long as any affairs could be kept quiet their husbands didn’t seem to mind all that much.
    “Time for lesson,” Boris’ smile grew wider and scarier. His hand slid down her leg and grasped her foot before she could pull it away. Then he did something to the sole of her foot that made her groan.
    It went on, and on. Boris gripped and probed and fondled and pressed and Giancarla whimpered and moaned and winced and cried out. He hadn’t touched her breasts so far, except to fondle them clumsily when all this began, and whenever she thought of what he might do to her nipples it made her physically ill. She had already vomited once, when she had awakened to feel Boris’ hands on her naked body and the first thing she had thought was that he was going to rape her. Boris had cleaned it up before he left. Now she prayed that he would just fuck her instead of continuing this terrible slow torture. She had nothing left in her stomach to throw up, and the dry heaves made her ribs and belly ache. Surely this terrible punishment had to end