Carla got down on her hands and knees obediently with her ass in the air.
“Those welts from last time seem to be healing nicely,” Gio commented mildly. He let these words hang in the air until they were tinged with menace. Was he simply making an observation, Carla wondered, or was he planning to add to them?
As he walked with her crawling ahead of her, they were approached by a morbidly-obese mountain of a man with a shaved head, pierced nipples, and leather shorts. He wore a cheap plastic baby mask that barely fit on his face.
“She's pretty,” Baby Mask said. His voice was strangely soft and high-pitched, and he had a slight lisp. “Can I play with her?”
Carla's entire body clenched in revulsion as she imagined the huge man's hairy hands on her body. Even though she'd agreed to cater to Gio's whims under duress, she still admired his dark eyes and handsome features and the muscled, broad-shouldered physique that seemed barely contained beneath his tailored suits. It had made sex with him bearable, perhaps even more than she felt comfortable admitting to herself. But the thought of being petted and penetrated by Baby Mask's rough, sweaty fingers was nauseating.
Gio paused, seeming to delight in her discomfort before answering. “No, I think not. But maybe you can watch us later, if you like.”
Baby Mask nodded placidly and disappeared into the crowd without another word. Gio kneeled down next to her, speaking into her ear.
“You know I could have said yes to him,” Gio said. “Or I could say yes to the next one who asks. And there's nothing you could do about it, because you belong to me. You're mine to use, share, or trade as I see fit.”
“Yes, Master,” Carla replied. When she'd agreed to submit to Gio, she hadn't considered the idea that he might decide to share her with anyone else. If she had, she doubted she'd have gone through with this. The thought of being treated like a piece of property and passed around like a party favor made her stomach writhe.
But now that she'd agreed to it, how could she possibly get out of it?
“Please, Master,” she began timidly, “I'll do anything to please you, but I'd love it if you'd keep me all to yourself. I worship you, and all I want is to be owned by you completely, body and soul.”
Gio seemed taken aback for a moment. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “You're good,” he said. “That's good. You're really throwing yourself into this, and I like that. Okay. You're all mine...for now. You keep showing me how devoted you are to me, and maybe it'll even stay that way.”
“Thank you, Master,” she gushed, trying to sound as subservient as possible. She lowered her head. “Thank you, thank you.”
“All right, that's enough of that,” Gio smirked. “Keep crawling toward the center of the room. There's something I want to show you.”
When they reached the middle of the room, Gio jerked the chain, bringing Carla to an abrupt halt. “Look up,” he said.
Carla arched her neck and saw a large piece of upright furniture in front of her. It looked like a big X made of polished black wood, with leather restraints at the end of each branch.
“That's called a Saint Andrew's Cross,” Gio sneered. “Cool, huh? It was named after the diagonal cross that Saint Andrew was supposedly martyred on. I love how often all that Catholic bullshit intersects with S&M. Even if my old man's too much of an ignorant asshole to admit that,” he finished to himself, grumbling.
There's the anger at his father again, Carla thought. Could there be enough rage and resentment there for me to exploit? I came into this investigation trying to connect Gio to a crime, but what if there were a way to flip him somehow instead?...
Carla's thoughts were interrupted by Gio's firm voice. “Stand up and put your back against it.”
She stood and backed herself up against the cross, extending her ankles and wrists as far as they could go with her feet on the floor. Gio secured them to the cross.
Even though the bonds were snug, Carla noted that they still weren't tight enough to cut off circulation. She had to admit that he seemed to be very good at his hobby, even as her stomach fluttered with the thought of what might come next. Her breasts and flat tummy seemed cruelly vulnerable.
Gio reached into the satchel again and produced a black whip with a stubby leather handle that divided into nine long, thin flails. At the other end, the handle ended in a studded bulb of black metal. Just staring at the sleek, dangerous-looking implement in Gio's hands made the muscles behind Carla's knees ache and tremble.
“Now tonight, we're going to do something a little different,” Gio hissed in her ear. “If you let me whip you enough times, I'll eventually stop and let you down from the cross. If you can't take it and you use the yellow word, I'll stop whipping you...but then the other end of this thing is going deep inside you. If you use the red word, I'll pull it out and fuck you, and I'll keep on fucking you until I'm done no matter what word you use. Understand?”