Devil of a Man

I stand across from the ragged man, his naturally tan skin reflecting his background and brooding complexion and figure. He wears a dark elegant name-brand Brunello Cucinelli suit. I on the other hand wear a form-fitting Egara off-white suit with intricate designs. Nobody stands to our side to watch as my life is signed away to a man I don’t even know- a mafia man. 

He stands there with a warm smirk on his face almost like it's his way of saying he’s won. His eyes hold a look of pride that takes every single ounce of control I have in my small, frail, body not to slap clean off of his face. Women would spread their legs for this man, men would too. Unlike them, they have a choice to open their legs and submit to the overpowering dominance leaking from his very skin- I don’t. 

When your parents call your name to tell you news, you never expect it to be of something like this. Never in even a child’s wildest dreams would they think of a forced marriage between two men. It’s absurd! I wanted to have a nice peaceful life but this fucking man took that chance away from me! I wanted a wife and kids that I could raise and love but now I’ll never have that!

To keep myself from glaring at the man and receiving a beating I look down at my feet and glared at them instead. Inside I feel as though I should scream, cry, punch him, hurt him in any way possible to getaway. Yet I can’t have a whole Mafia on my tail if I want to live a peaceful life. 

Hours later after having a metamorphic gun to my head, I’m forced to sign the marriage papers. Since due to my submissive role in society, I have no chance of escape. My life has been signed away to a man I don’t know or even care for.

Will he use my pale and boney body as a toy to get off when stressed? I look up towards my newly made husband as he wraps a domineering arm around my lower back. I stiffen at the unwelcoming touch but I'm forced to stand there, unable to pull away. 

He forces me to walk down the aisle of the church right alongside him. "You know, my dear husband. The last time I was in a church was when I was 9. Let's just say there was a few unholy things that took place and now look at me." I slowly look, seeing as though I predicted wrote smug on his face is a wide smirk sinister smirk.

I go back to looking down as he leads me out of the church and to his beautiful, reserved, black  Lykan Hypersport. Opening the passenger door for me, I slip in and look about confused. I had never been in a car before so I felt as though I didn’t belong, which I didn’t. I hear the man sigh and lean in, buckling me in place causing me to panic. Before I can tear it off and away from me he chastises me saying, “It’s for your safety just in case I get into a crash, which, I highly doubt. Wouldn’t want to wreck this beautiful baby.” He pats the roof of the car and shuts the door behind him.

I grit my teeth, he cares more about some stupid car than me, his apparent husband! Huffing out a sigh I watch out the corner of my eye his door open. I’m almost confused how his staggering form can manage to sit in this sports car but he somehow manages to make it work.

Soon enough the purr of the car starting can be heard he pulls away from the parking lot and speeds off. Effectively making me grip onto the door in fear. I lean far back against my seat wanting to completely disappear as he speeds down the highway, one hand on the wheel, the other sat on the armrest. 

“Why don’t we lay down some ground rules, boy.” His tone reeks of his gifted dominance as I sink further into my seat. “First off, you will only ever direct to me as ‘Sir,’ any other name or word you will be sprawled over my knee stark naked and I will not refrain from lighting your ass up red. Got it, boy?” I nod and he somewhat growls at my choice of muteness. “I will also not tolerate a simple head nod from you. Say ‘yes sir’ and I will withhold from beating your ass.” 

I stop myself from gritting my teeth as I forcefully spit out, "Yes... Sir." Out of the corner of my eye, I see the wide smirk on his face as if he's won a brand new car. I hate the suffocating dominance in the air. His in general smells of the deep forest and musky cinnamon. Yet those are good smells but when it's a Dominant person's dominant musk- it's horrid. The will to submit shakes my body as I let out a whimper against my will.

He glances over, knowing what he's doing but doesn't stop. It just gets worse. My cock weeps in its position as I squirm in my seat. "Let's continue laying out the rules. I expect you to be considerate and do your job right as my husband. You will pick my outfit for the day, iron it out, make me breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I also expect you to not talk to any other Dominant, no matter what. You are mine. Whether you like it or not, you are my property and my beautiful husband." 

I pant quietly barely able to listen to him as the air in the car becomes intoxicating. Lucky enough for me he finally tones it down and rolls my window down halfway. I suck in the fresh air easing my raging cock to settle down. "I-I understand.. Sir..." I barely manage out. He hums with- once again, a sly smirk. 

I look out the window as the car ride continues in a muted fashion. Now and then he'll tap on the vehicle's steering wheel as I try my best to ignore his very presence. "We'll make a stop by your parents’ house before taking off in my jet. Then we'll get going to Puerto Rico."

My eyes widen, Puerto Rico, jet? I frantically look around, I can't go to a different country with this maniac! "If you make a move to run I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your pretty little body." He growls out menacingly as I shake and look at him in fear. 

This can't be real! This just can't be! I don't care what I have to, I need out! I can alarm the police and stay with them. 

My thoughts run rampant but it's all cut short when we pull into the familiar driveway of my parents' small house, my home. Or at least... what used to be my home. Now I'll live with the Mafia and this man for the rest of my days.

He parks the car and gets out, he comes around to my side and pulls the door open. Leaning over me, he unbuckles me from the seat and helps me out surprisingly. I look over and spit my mother and father with tears in their eyes. 

I feel betrayed by them so I look back with a painful face. They lied to me, they promised to protect me and never give me away but they lied.

"Well Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Darcely. I brought your son back one last time before our departure to Puerto Rico." I watch as my mom slowly approaches me and envelops me in a shaky hug as she cries. My father also pulls both of us into a group hug. 

I'm angry and betrayed but I still love them and will dearly miss them. I sob harshly, my whole body shaking and stuttering from the force. Slowly though, I pull away from them and step back. "T-Tell my siblings I-I love them and to n-not forget me.." I hiccup as my husband grabs my shoulder pulling me back over to the passenger side of his car. 

"Get in boy. We need to go." I grit my teeth as I shake. He opens the door and I drag myself into the car. He buckles me in as I shake and sob. Crumbling into myself, he shuts the door and gets in on his side. 

I don't stop crying as the vibration and sound of the engine purring to life oddly comforts me. Soon after we pull away and get back on the roads my sobs have finally reduced to sad depressing hiccups.

I feel embarrassed knowing he heard and possibly watched me as I cried. I pick my head up and slowly look out the window as the world passes us by. "Wh-Why are we going to Puerto Rico?" I look towards my husband. 

"Because boy, it's my home country and where I live. I only came to the States to collect your parents' debt which so happens to be you." I grit my teeth at that smug smirk. Looking back out to the cars we fly by on the highway. I grip the door, feeling anxious and sick from this fast-moving car. 

I want to ask him to slow down but I'm scared of the beating. I've heard kids at my school talk about the beatings from Dominants and I have no want for one, not a single bit. Though now I sit in a vehicle with the most domineering man I've ever met I can't say I'm changing my mind.

My flight-or-fight reflexes are kicking in causing my bony body to tremble in the now slowly heated seat. My shaking slowly dies down as I curl up into the seat. Why must this happen to me? I just wanted to live out my life in peace with a wife and kids but now I'm doomed. 

Gradually my eyes begin to close from the heating and the rhythmic purr of the car. My heart slows and my body relaxes. My head becomes heavy as I rest it on the door. Shortly after I fall into a coma state of sleep.