Can't Pick Your Family - Cover

Can't Pick Your Family

Copyright© 2011 by Argon

Chapter 14: Di Rosa's Honor

Thriller Sex Story: Chapter 14: Di Rosa's Honor - Joey Di Rosa is the grandnephew of a Cosa Nostra kingpin. Deirdre Darling is the daughter of a district attorney. Yet, they become soul mates and lovers until a violent crime tears them apart. Caution: the story gets ugly towards the middle, and as in real life, crime pays if done right.

Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Rape   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Violence   School  

Everything hurt. Lying face down on the rough canvas of the old camp bed her bruised breasts were sending jolts of pain. Her jaws were sore after hours of oral abuse. Her vagina felt raw, but worst was her anus, even now plugged with some giant plastic penis. Whenever she twitched pain shot through her and she felt moisture – blood for sure – running down her crack and over her raw pussy.

Deirdre had completely lost her feeling of time. She was not sure if they had raped her for hours, for days, or even for weeks. Both captors had been insatiable, their erections barely abating. They had appeared like figures from a hideous nightmare, like monsters from some B movie, with their completely shaved heads and bodies, their bulging muscles, and the weird tattoos that covered chest, back, arms and even the shaven heads.

At one point, one of them had talked about pills and somehow Deirde had made the connection. Viagra or Cialis, or something like that. They had cheered each other on, with one of them giving directions like a movie director; a notion that was confirmed when she saw the camera on a tripod, adding insult to the injuries and the excruciating pain.

A few times, Deirdre had passed out when her brain shut down with the pain becoming too much for her. Each time she was woken by brutal beatings against her breasts and genitals. In the end neither of the captors could ejaculate anymore and that had added to her pain because of the lack of lubrication.

A phone call, some long time ago, had made them pause for some time, perhaps a few hours, but then they started again, laughing and telling her, she was worth something for them after all. Then, finally, they had left her alone in her agony, tied face down on the camp bed, a dildo still stuck into her anus as final humiliation.

Suddenly, a burst of light seared her eyeballs; intense, white light that stunned her, accompanied by what sounded like a thunderclap. Blinded and deafened, she began to panic, robbed of her sensory abilities. Then, hands were working on her tied feet and hands, and somebody gently wedged the plastic penis from her anus.

Her hearing came back, and there was a mad noise around her, with many voices shouting about, but there was one soothing, female voice close to her. The tape was taken off her mouth.

"Deirdre Darling?" the voice asked.

Somehow, she had the strength to nod.

"You are safe now. I am Special Agent Martin. I am with the Hostage Rescue Team, and I'm the EMT. Have you been shot or stabbed?"

"No, jus' fuckt and fuckt," Deirdre was able to mumble through her swollen and torn lips.

"Jesus, get in the stretcher! Have the plasma expander ready!" somebody shouted.

Somebody put a sheet over her back, and then they turned her over, wrapping her in the sheet. Some sort of padding was stuffed between her legs, and she flinched with the pain.

"Oh fuck, look at her breasts!" a male voice exclaimed in abject horror.

"Shut your face!" the female EMT barked. "Miss Darling, are you in pain?"

Deirdre screwed up her eyes to look at her and the EMT realized the monstrous stupidity of her question. She radioed with somebody, and then an infusion of clear liquid was hooked to Deirdre's arm. She had not even noticed when they put in the vein catheter. Then, wondrously, the pain subsided, and so did Deirdre's consciousness.


"They found her!" SA Duncan exclaimed. "They're bringing her to the ER as we speak."

"Is she alive?" Maureen asked weakly.

"Yes, she was able to answer questions, but she's in a bad shape and in great pain. We can bring you down to the ER now."

Maureen turned to Joey. "Can you come with me?" she pleaded.

Joey took a deep breath, feeling fear and helpless rage at the same time. He nodded.

"Give me a call when you're ready for pick-up, okay?" Felix said, putting a hand on Joey's shoulder. "You were in a worse shape, Joey, and yet you pulled through."

Joey nodded again. "Thanks, Felix, for everything."

"Hell, Joey, you're family and Deirdre is your girlfriend. She's a good girl, too. Anytime."

They arrived at the hospital even before the ambulance with Deirdre. They watched her arrive and Joey had to hold Maureen when the mangled girl was wheeled into the ER, her face a single, angry bruise. With horror Joey saw that the green sheet that covered her was blood soaked around her midsection. For four hours they sat in agonized silence before a stone faced surgeon approached them.

"We have been able to stop the bleeding and to close most of the wounds. We put her into an artificial coma to help with the healing process. The damage..." He looked at Joey. "I'm sorry Sir, you are?"

"He's her fiancé, and he's the only reason she's still alive," Maureen said with a touch of determination. The surgeon shrugged.

"She suffered a lot of tearing, both anally and around her vagina. Her genitals are badly bruised, too, probably from direct beating. She has severe abdominal bruising, but no internal bleeding. Her face looks bad, but actually that's the part of her that suffered the least. It's all superficial bruising and a few cuts, probably from slapping her around. The same for her breasts; they're black and blue, but no lasting damage inasfar as we could assess."

"Will she be okay again?" Maureen pleaded.

"Physically, I don't see permanent damage, but she'll take a long time healing. I don't have to tell you that she'll need a boatload of therapy, and then some more." The man pinched his eyes shut for a moment, but Joey could see the tears. "Listen, I have to go. We'll move her to a monitoring room now. If you want you can sit with her."

Maureen nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. I'd like that."

Looking at the beat-up, comatose Deirdre, Joey felt at once helpless, desperate, but also increasingly furious. An all-consuming hatred against the men who had done this to Deirdre began to envelope him, up to a point where he could not sit anymore. Maureen looked up with tired eyes.

"I guess we better call it a day. You go home, Joey. I'll never forget what you did for us. I'll go and sit with Karen for a while."

Karen was in the ICU, still in a coma, and still suffering from severe brain swelling. Obviously, the Montalbans had beaten her methodically and for a long time, even splitting her skull open, and in all likelihood bringing her into a permanent vegetative state. Maureen had not been able to be with her for fear of missing a ransom call, but now she needed to be with her partner.

"Sure thing, Maureen. Promise me that you'll get some sleep, too."

"One can always hope."

Felix came to pick him up. To Joey's surpise, Vincent Di Rosa was also sitting in the limousine. He alighted from the car when Joey approached it.

"Show me your girl, Nephew," he commanded.

Joey knew better than to contradict him. The nurses were a little surprised, but Don Vincente knew how to convince them.

"I wish to see my nephew's fiancé, so I can weep and pray at her bed."

No tears flowed and no prayer was said though when Don Vincente stared at the still girl.

"Infamia!" he muttered once, but then he focused on Joey. "Nephew, will you allow them to get away?"

Joey understood and shook his head. "If you will grant me revenge on those animals, I'll be like your own grandson," he replied grimly.

The old man smirked. "We'll see about that. Just remember how they left her and let the anger lead you for now. Let it be a cold anger, not a hot one. It's a worn cliché, but revenge is a dish to be enjoyed cold. Make your heart cold and follow our lead."

"I will," Joey answered firmly.

"Come then, Nephew. Your revenge awaits you!"

Once outside, the limousine took them to the airport and there to a private hangar where a Gulfstream jet was standing ready.

Joey was worried. "What about Tess? Don't I have..."

"Let Teresa have her youth, Joseph. Yours will end tonight," Don Vincente said ominously.

Twenty minutes later they were in the air and on a south-western course, and after two hours they touched down. Joey had no idea where they were. Once the plane was parked they stepped down the foldout ladder and onto the tarmac. They walked a short ways to where a black Cadillac was parked. Nothing was said until they sat in the car with Felix driving, following the road signs to Knoxville, Tennessee. Felix now spoke to Joey.

"Listen, Joey. The Montalbans are in a motel, east of here. Some friends tracked them to a motel near Roanoke and relocated them to a shored up place closer to here."

"Tracked them?"

"The banderoles. We gave them the 200 G in twenties as specified. That's two hundred bundles. No chance for them to check them all for bugs. That's expensive shit we're using and they never caught on to us. Now, Joey, you need to understand that we needed some help. Officially we're not operative anymore. The council approved because we declared it a vendetta, your vendetta. I also had to give those Spics assurances through our middleman that nobody in my organization would hurt them. You with me so far?"

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