Let me explain how it is in Vinnie's World. We're a savage tribe living in a land with other savage tribes. We don't start wars. We follow certain maxims: live and let live; to each his own; don't stick your nose in someone else's business. But sometimes other people don't follow those rules.

That's when we act because there is one maxim we never follow: turn the other cheek. We defend each other and our possessions. Our most precious possessions are our women, and we guard them at all costs.

I don't want to hear that women aren't possessions. Claudia tells me that all the time, and she's my baby sister so she talks to me in a way I won't tolerate from you. I'll tell you something else. The women love it. The few that don't love it leave my world for yours. That's fine. More women leave your world for mine because they like the way we treat them.

The point is we don't let an intrusion go unpunished. We don't let a wrong go unrighted, not even when the wrong is by one of the white picket fence types who doesn't realize he's committed a cardinal sin.

Sonya Simpson was a nineteen-year-old, wild, sexy, beautiful slut introduced to me by my favorite madam, who asked me to be her first professional trick. One of those she fucked before I met her was Herbert Brooks, her high school teacher. I decided to take Sonya as my woman. She'd been my woman for thirteen months before she accidentally ran across Herbert. He knew she'd been a cokehead in high school, but didn't know she'd dried out. He seduced her with the white shit and fucked her.

Herbert Brooks committed a cardinal sin when he fucked Sonya. I don't mean when he fucked her when she was his student. I mean when he fucked her when she belonged to me.

You do understand the difference, don't you?

Sonya understood, but she fucked up. I involuntarily enrolled her in a convent operated by a special order of nuns devoted to education and serving the church hierarchy. They'll educate her in the ways a woman should be.

Whether Herbert Brooks didn't know or didn't understand made no difference. He had to pay the price. Only then could I close the book on Sonya Simpson.

Since Herbie taught at Our Lady Catholic High School, before I punished him I had to talk to Sister Mary Katherine, or Kate as I call her. She's the principal at OLC and we go back a long way.

Five years my senior, Kate is a tall, strong, feminine woman. That size and physical strength adds to her attractiveness in my book. At six feet tall and one hundred seventy pounds, she's a hell of a package.

In another era, Kate would've run a corporation or been the city's leading dominatrix, but she was one of nine children from a poor Irish family. She became a nun, teacher, and administrator. She ran the school with an iron hand and the results were proof of the pudding. Parents begged to get their little darlings in OLC because they graduated prepared to meet the world.

"Kate, it's Vinnie. I need to talk to you," I said when she answered the phone.

"Hello, Vinnie. A call so soon? You must want Sonya back," she said with a chuckle.

"No. I don't even want to know how she's doing."

"What is it then?"

"I want to talk about one of your teachers. A piece of shit named Herbert Brooks."

"All right, but it'll cost you dinner."

"Just dinner? I remember you said something about being horny."

"I know I didn't use that word," she replied coquettishly.

"What word did you use?"

"I don't remember, but that word will do."

Mica, my driver and bodyguard, picked up Kate that evening in the limo and brought her back to The Sunset, where we ate in my quarters to avoid being seen. The restaurant catered, serving lobster tails and medallions of beef with fresh vegetables. Since it was Kate, I ordered a bottle of champagne.

She was dressed in a white, long-sleeved blouse and navy slacks rather than her habit. Her clothing was loose to give a hint rather than reveal her body. Kate liked her hair short and she didn't wear make-up. I liked the natural touch. It looked good on her.

After dinner was served and the first glass of champagne consumed, we got down to brass tacks.

"Tell me about Herbert Brooks," I said.

"Why?"

"He was the guy Sonya cheated with. You know how is it, Kate. I need to handle it."

"Did you know they were having sex when she was his student?"

"Yes, but that doesn't matter."

"He wasn't her first either."

"From what she told me, he was number fifty, give or take a few."

"If a girl's a slut, there's no reason a teacher shouldn't enjoy her."

"Does that go for the boys, too?"

"All boys are sluts, Vinnie. You know that." She laughed lasciviously. "I remember the first student I took for a ride. He was a big-cocked, overly serious Italian boy who was one hell of a lover."

"That boy remembers it, too. He remembers the sweet smells and tastes when he buried his face in your red pussy hair."

"Oh, my," she said. "I won't be able to think of anything else until you do that again."

"Yes, you will. Think about Herbie. Think about him giving her cocaine to get to her, because that's what the bastard did."

Kate's eyes narrowed and fire shot of out of them. The first time I'd seen that look, I was her student and I'd quaked.

"Cocaine?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure, Vinnie? You know how I feel about drugs."

"I'm sure, Kate."

Kate didn't respond immediately and I didn't push her. We ate and passed small talk until she was ready to discuss him.

"Herbert's thirty-five," she began. "He's one of our best teachers. In fact, he was teacher of the year last year. The students love him." She cut a piece off the lobster tail. It was on the end of her fork when she waggled it at me. "The reason they love him is that he's positive and non-threatening. He's almost effeminate."

"Seriously?" I asked.

"You know the type. The boys think he's masculine so they're comfortable and talk to him. The girls think he's feminine or neutral so they don't feel threatened. They don't put up their guards like they do with the boys and they fall into his trap."

"Does he trap them?"

"He's as slick as snake oil, Vinnie. He reads them and picks the easy target. Then he works on her until she falls into his web." Kate's eyes burned into me. "Right now, he's working on Teresa," she said. She stuck the lobster in her mouth.

"Teresa Barton?" I asked in a neutral voice. My guts were boiling, but she didn't know that. I don't let others see what's going on inside me. I took a sip of champagne.

"Yes, Vinnie. Your Teresa."

Teresa Barton thinks she's the daughter of Phil and Lorena Barton. Lorena is the office manager at my law firm, Costello, Rao, Schwartz, and Moreno. And Lorena is one of my women. She comes to me when I call her and she always has. Teresa is my daughter, but she calls me Uncle Vinnie.

"Lorena told me Teresa is a sweet thing."

"She is, Vinnie, but her hormones are raging. I don't think Lorena realizes how sexually advanced she is."

"And Lorena told me you're watching out for her."

"I am, Vinnie. Why do you think I told you about Herbert?"

"That gives me something else to discuss with him." I sipped my champagne. Kate was still watching me like a hawk. "Tell me about his family," I said.

"He has a wife and two children. His wife's name is Lillian. She seems to be the stereotypical submissive wife."

"Go on."

"I am if you'll give me time," she retorted with a twinkle. "You've seen her kind, Vinnie. She does what he says when he says it, wears what he tells her to wear, thinks the way he tells her to think. So he has a good deal at home and he plays around. My guess is she doesn't know it, but she might be one of those that knows and chooses either to not to believe it or to not take any action."

"What else can you tell me about her?"

"She's small, maybe five feet tall and a hundred pounds. She's one of the more active parents in the school projects, but she refuses to chair a committee or anything like that. She's too shy."

"And the children?" I asked.

"Two. A girl named Heather who's fifteen. She's one of our students. Like her mother, she's shy, and I think she's still a virgin. It's hard to know."

"And the other child?"

"A boy named Terry. He's twelve, so he's too young for OLC. I don't know much about him."

"Anything else I need to know?"

Kate smiled knowingly. "I'll tell you how I'd do it if I were you."

"I was counting on that," I replied.

"Herbert's not a violent man. Faced with the threat of overwhelming violence, I think he'd crumble and do whatever you wanted." She held out her champagne glass and I refilled it. "And what you would want is his wife."

"Why?"

"She's his Achilles Heel. A loyal little wife and picture perfect home are his bedrock."

"How would you do her?" I asked.

"Strictly psychological. Fear of extreme violence from an overpowering man and no way out but submit to him should make her pliable as clay. I think you can supplant her husband as the man in her life."

The dinner portions we were served were smaller than a patron normally gets at The Sunset Restaurant. I didn't want us to be too full. Even then, neither Kate nor I finished all our meal. We talked about the things two friends talk about like politics, movies, and art. Her intelligence, sense of humor, and verbal skills are more of Kate's attractive features. She would've made a damn good litigator.

I was a junior in high school and she was my teacher when we made love for the first time. I like to think I seduced her, but no man can seduce Kate, not unless she wants to be seduced. We'd been lovers ever since. In the high school days, it was hot and often. It's still hot, but now we have sex only when she wants it.

I don't kid myself that I'm the only man in her life, but I like to think I'm the most important. I know there are more women in her life than men because Kate's bisexual. And she's dominant with everyone but me.

Some years back, I started asking her how she wanted to make love each time we got together. She liked that, choosing games that covered the spectrum. I've always thought we were acting out her fantasies, but I've never asked her.

"How do you want it tonight, Kate?" I asked.

She blushed furiously, making her skin almost as red as her hair.

"Like I'm a reluctant virgin on my wedding night."

"Am I your husband or an interloper?"

"My husband," she said, and the blush grew.

I read the unsaid meaning. Kate and I would have made a hell of a pair. We would have chased women and fought lawsuits together. Then we would have fallen in bed to fuck our brains out.

Room service cleared the suite and left a new bottle of champagne. I began the seduction of my reluctant bride. Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime.

Donnie, another of my men, drove Kate home after breakfast the next day. I went to my office above the bar and worked. I do work. How the hell do you think I pay for all this?

My people watched the Brooks' routine. A wiretap on their phone provided more information. When we discovered the children were going to grandma's house for the weekend so good old mom and dad could have some privacy to celebrate their seventeenth wedding anniversary, I finalized our plans.

We'd be in their home waiting for them when they returned from grandma's house on Friday night. Prissy and I would handle Lillian. Bigun and Donnie would handle Herbie, and Mica would be backup.

Herbie screamed the instant before Donnie shot him with the stun gun. He flopped around on the floor, as stun gun victims do, while they bound him for transport.

Lillian didn't scream or run. She froze with her eyes wide and her lips slightly open. She stared at me as Prissy yanked her arms behind her and cuffed them.

"Open your mouth," I said coldly. Her mouth opened. Prissy jammed the gag between her teeth and tied it behind her head. Lillian's eyes hadn't left mine.

I lifted her into the air like a parent lifts a child. I tossed her up and caught her to give her a sense of helplessness before holding her at eye level, which meant her feet were more than a foot off the floor. She squirmed as Prissy raised her skirt.

"Be still," I hissed.

One shake of her head was her only resistance. Prissy yanked Lillian's panties and pantyhose down to her knees before crossing her ankles and binding them. Try to keep your legs closed with your ankles crossed sometime. You can see Lillian's problem.

I stared at her with a dead, cold, fear-inducing glare. Like a mouse hypnotized by the stillness of a snake preparing to devour it, she didn't blink or move. When I spoke, my voice was as cruel and commanding as my expression.

"You're mine now. My woman. I own you. You'll spread your legs and beg me to fuck you. You'll crawl on your knees crying for my cock in your mouth. That is your reality. There's no way out for you except doing exactly what I tell you. No way. You're mine until I say you aren't."

I shook her and dug my thumbs into her soft flesh for emphasis, which made her squeal against the gag.

"Think about your worst nightmare - because if you disobey me, I'm it. Think about the ways that I can cause you pain - because if you don't submit, I'll do them to you. You will submit. You will belong to me. That I assure you. You decide if I must hurt you or if you'll submit to me without the pain."

Kate hadn't told me how pretty Lillian was. She was a little doll with small bones, fine features, and flawless skin. Her medium brown hair hid her ears but didn't reach her shoulders. Her stomach was tight and her legs were shapely.

When I smiled at Lillian, she blinked as if my smile were so foreign she couldn't comprehend it.

"You'll like being my woman. I treat my women well. You'll find that I'm a strong but loving man to a woman who's submitted to me. I can be as kind as I am cruel. Think about it."

Prissy slipped the soft cloth sack over Lillian's head and snugged the drawstrings under her chin.

Mica drove the van to the warehouse I keep for my purposes. I've already told you about it. Herbie was on the floor, gagged, blindfolded, and tied up like a Christmas turkey.

After I sat down in the comfortable rear seat of the van, Bigun handed Lillian to me. She was squirming as I sat her on my lap. Little grunts from under the hood matched muscle strains as she twisted to free herself.

"Be still or I'll tie your legs," I said.

Either she didn't hear or didn't believe me.

"Get some rope, Prissy."

Lillian's struggled intensified, but Prissy and I weren't in a hurry. We let her exhaust herself before we tied her legs with a rope running from behind one knee around her back to behind the other knee. She was spread and bent almost double, with her knees beside her breasts.

I told Mica we were ready to go.

"Don't you feel silly, Lillian," I said as the van pulled away from their house. "It would have been easier if you'd done it my way. You'll learn that the way I tell you to do it is usually the easy way."

I felt her body shake as she cried.

"Go ahead and cry. Get it out of your system," I said gently. "It's all right."

I held and patted her until she lay spent against my shoulder.

"You're my woman now. Let me tell you what I expect of my women. When I call for you, you'll drop whatever you're doing and come running eager to please me. I don't mean just fuck me or suck my cock, but you'll do that without question. I mean please me by the happiness of your smile and the joy in your heart."

She hadn't moved and I could feel her blood coursing through her veins.

"Tilt your head back. I want to kiss your throat."

She tensed, as I expected.

"Tilt your head back or I'll do it for you," I said without rancor.

I didn't expect her to give in early and she didn't disappoint me. Once again, I did it for her until her white throat lay exposed. Beginning at the little hollow, I nibbled the areas that lay bare for me. As I tasted her, I stroked the lips of her pussy. She jerked, only to find being tied and arched like that severely limited her movements. I didn't try to penetrate her or flick her clitoris. I kissed her neck and stroked those lower lips until they were bloated and her wetness oozed out between them.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" I whispered in her ear. "Wait until I fuck you. You're going to love it. You're going to love belonging to me."

I stopped stimulating her. She lay her head on my shoulder as I held her tightly and gently stroked her through her clothes.

Herbie screamed against his gag and fought his bonds as Bigun and Donnie carried him into the interview room, which is what I call my dungeon at the warehouse.

I carried Lillian into the middle bedroom and laid her on the bed. When I removed the sack from her head, the light blinded her. I unbound her legs and ankles, yanked off her panties and hose, and threw them away.

She kicked at me, which I'd expected. I seized an ankle in each hand and held on as she thrashed around, trying to get away. My face showed no effort at holding her because little force was needed. Rather, I looked amused at her resistance. When she was exhausted, with her blouse sweat-soaked and her breast heaving, I pried open her legs and crawled between them. I jammed my cloth-covered crotch against her naked one. She felt my hard cock and struggled again, but to no avail.

"I'm enjoying playing with you," I said. "It is play because we both know you couldn't seriously think you're going to escape me."

When I sat back, she snapped her legs closed and tried to squirm away.

"Come here," I said as I pulled her back to me. I removed the gag. She took several deep breaths and stretched her jaw. "Roll over and I'll uncuff your hands."

She rolled on her back, rubbed her wrists, and watched me. She didn't try to move away.

"You're a beautiful woman, Lily," I said gently.

She gasped, "What did you call me?"

"Lily. You're a beautiful flower and that's what I'll call you."

"Don't call me that. My name's Lillian."

"Lily's your new name. I'll call you that and you will call yourself Lily. You'll respond to that name, not to Lillian," I said.

"I demand you let us go," she said. It's all in the way it's said - tone of voice and facial expressions. Hers were a bluff.

"Boo!" I barked as I lunged at her.

She squealed and fell off the bed.

"I'm leaving now," I said. "Come kiss me good-bye."

She didn't move so I did, grabbing a handful of hair and slowly lifting her to her feet. Her hands were wrapped around my wrist to support her weight. I pushed her back on the bed, pinning her body with my weight, and holding her hands over her head in one of mine. I was between her legs again, a fact she noticed.

"I'm going to have you. I'll be between your legs like I am now, but we'll both be naked and my cock will be in you."

When I leaned over to kiss her, she turned her head away. I turned it back to face me.

"Kiss me," I said threateningly, but she didn't.

Her lips were tight and unyielding. With my palm under her chin and fingers holding her nose, I sealed her airway. The instant she realized she couldn't breathe, she surrendered. When I felt her sag, I released her nose and let her breathe again.

"Kiss me now, Lily," I demanded.

Her kiss was unacceptable, limp as bread dough. I didn't complain. I continued kissing her. She started to respond. When she gave way completely and started to enjoy it, I stopped. I looked back at her just before I exited. She was sitting on the edge of the bed staring at me with her arms, elbows locked, supporting her. Her legs were splayed. That was a good sign. A very good sign.

Herbert Brooks was hanging by his wrists in the interview room, which is what I call the dungeon at my hidden warehouse suite. Mica and Donnie were babysitting him.

Herbie was naked and they'd stretched him. His feet were off the ground a few inches, with his legs spread about three feet apart, and attached to the floor. His arms were directly over his head and attached to the ceiling. His pale, almost sickly white skin was mottled and beaded with sweat. His long hair was wild, but his face was wilder, like a trapped animal.

"Let me go this instant," he whined when he saw me.

I slapped him forehand and backhand. No blood, but I rang his bell and his eyes watered.

"Don't whine. It irritates me. Look at me, Herbie," I said in my cold, fear-inducing voice.

Herbie is about five ten. He struggled to get his head back far enough to see me. His eyes were watering more, but these were tears.

"Do you know why you're here?" I asked.

"No."

"You fucked my woman. You're going to pay for that." I slapped him.

"No. No! It wasn't me."

I slapped him again. "Her name's Sonya Simpson."

Herbie's eyes widened to saucer size. I took his left testicle between thumb and forefinger, and rolled it around. He begged for his manhood and his life. I won't repeat it. It was blather. The bad part was the dumb bastard slobbered on me.

When I had enough fun, I put the palm of my hand on his chin and pushed upward. It's hard to beg when your mouth won't open. And it's hard to breathe with a finger in each nostril. His face turned red as he jerked and struggled in vain. I released him the second before he lost consciousness. He gasped for air, drooled, and started that pitiful whining again.

Remember when you were in junior high school and you'd flick the girls on their tushes with a rubber band? They'd squeal, or swing at you, or run for the teacher. My rubber band was thick and wide, not the little ones like in school. And Herbie couldn't swing or run, but he could squeal. I walked circles around him flicking him in appropriate places, like his armpits, nipples, asshole, and the head of his cock. I wanted to make sure he was paying attention when I talked to him.

"Herbie, baby, let's make a deal," I said.

"W-wh-what?" he stammered.

"You have something I want. Give it to me and I won't hurt you."

Hope springs eternal in the human breast. Hope almost made Herbie explode.

"W-w-wh-what is it? T-tell me. I'll give you anything."

I smiled.

"W-w-wh-what is it? W-what? What! Tell me. I'll give it to you. Whatever it is. I'll do it!" Herbie squeaked. His eyes bugged out. "What do you w-want?"

"Lillian. I want Lillian."

Herbie deflated and lost control of his bladder. The carpet in the interview room is indoor-outdoor because that happens from time to time.

I sat down by my men and opened a soda, which I sipped while I waited. I could tell he hated the idea of giving me his wife, but the length of time he was silent told me that he was considering it.

"No. You can't have her. There's nothing you can say or do to make me change my mind," he said with a pompous and phony fortitude.

The little fart had more backbone that I realized. Or, maybe, it was less brains.

"I don't want her forever, Herbie. She'll still be you wife, but she'll be my woman. You can fuck her when she's not with me, but I'll fuck her whenever I want to," I said neutrally.

He swelled up like a toad. Like a toad, it was a hollow defense.

"Never. Damn you! Never!" he screamed in a tinny, high-pitched voice.

"How about some pizza?" I said to Mica.

"Sounds good, Vinnie. Cheeselovers?" Mica replied.

"Shit, no. Supreme," Donnie interjected.

We argued about pizza while Herbie hung around. Our argument was set up. When I thought it'd gone on long enough, I gave the sign.

Mica said, "I'll go order it." He and Donnie left the room.

I walked to Herbie and stared at him until he couldn't meet my glare.

"Look at me," I snapped. His eyes teared again and his lip quivered. "I'm going to have Lillian. It'll be a lot easier on you and on her if you agree. Let's do this the easy way," I said.

"I won't agree," he said, but I knew he didn't mean it. I knew that even if he didn't.

"Here are your choices, Herbie. Agree and I won't hurt you. That's right, Herbie. Give me Lillian and you'll go home unharmed. But disagree? I'll start by whipping you until you pass out. Have you ever been whipped, Herbie?"

He couldn't make his mouth work to answer, but he shook his head.

"Then a demonstration's in order," I said.

He started squealing and begging again. It was an obnoxious noise that didn't stop until he felt the first of four swings with a three-strap flogger on his ass and thighs. Then he screamed like a banshee.

"Did you like that?" I asked.

He was crying too hard to answer. I held his chin to make him look at me. I didn't speak until his noise had subsided.

"Herbie, that's just the start. First, I'll whip you until your whole body throbs in pain and you pass out. I'll wake you up so that we can butt fuck you. All of us. We'll make your ass our darling little fuck hole. You might like that, but even if you don't, the gay priests will love having another ass to use."

I walked to the toy cabinet, retrieved two butt plugs, and held them up for Herbie to see. One was small. The other would make an elephant cry.

"This is what my cock will be like in you, Herbie," I said, waggling the big one. "I'll let you start with the little one. I'm trying to do this the easy way, Herbie. Why don't you do it the easy way and give me your wife?"

I greased the little plug's tip with petroleum jelly to ease the entrance. When I put the tip of the butt plug against his ass, Herbie passed from squealing to a sick, animal sound like a bird being eaten. It's hard to describe. It's harder to hear and I almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite.

I let him squirm and twist until he hung limp. When I slammed the butt plug home, I made a mental note to buy earplugs before I did this kind of thing again. I rotated the plug in his ass and gently moved it in and out as I talked to him.

"Would you like me to fuck your ass, Herbie?" I asked.

He couldn't even shake his head.

"Come on. You can admit it to me. Isn't having a man take you a secret fantasy of yours? Wouldn't you like a big, hard cock like mine deep in your bowels before you suck my shit from it?"

Herbie was hyperventilating.

"You can tell me later. Don't let the plug slip out, Herbie," I said as I patted his ass. "That would make me mad and, believe me, you don't want to see me mad."

I waited until Herbie seemed to be in control of his emotions before proceeding. Mica had bought a pair of garden shears, not the hedge trimmers with the toothed blades, but the shears with fourteen-inch long stainless steel blades, like scissors. He'd made them look used with an application of cow's blood. I retrieved them from the cabinet and held them up for Herbie to see. I opened and closed them, then opened them again. I was looking at him through the open blades.

"Then, Herbie, then, oh, Herbie, this is the jewel in your crown of thorns. I'll castrate you and cut off your dick. Think about it, Herbie. Do you want to be a girl without a pussy?"

I snapped the blades shut. They closed with that metallic hiss as the blades scissored past each other, followed by the click at the end.

When Herbie fainted, I left him there.

Mica hadn't ordered pizza. There were steak sandwiches and French fries in the kitchen, but I had work to do. I joined Prissy in the observation room where she'd been watching Lillian.

"How's she doing?" I asked.

"See for yourself," Prissy replied.

Lillian was pacing back and forth.

"Has she been pacing the entire time?" I asked.

"She's stopped three times to use the bathroom, check the door, and try the phone."

"Thanks, Prissy. You can go eat with the guys."

When I walked into the bedroom being used as Lillian's cell, she stopped to watch me with big questioning eyes.

"Turn around, please," I said. I said it nicely and she did it without thinking. "You're an attractive woman, Lily," I said.

"I asked you not to call me that," she said in her little girl's voice.

"Why not?"

"That's what my father called me," she said as a blush rose to cover her.

"He knew you were a special, beautiful flower, and so do I. Come here, Lily."

She didn't move.

"Lily, don't be foolish. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you're disobedient. Now come here."

She came in fits and starts to stand out of arm's reach.