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Damien shakes his head. “You aren’t breaking her. Vanessa, you’re doing well. You look good.”
“Hmm.” Giulio stands up and approaches me, his cock poking out of his underwear, and taps his chin. “The height is good—and fuck off, Slayer, we are definitely getting her sexy heels so she can teeter around for us. There’s no such thing asstupid tall.”
He puts his hands on my hips and urges me to turn around, stopping me when I’m facing away from them.
Giulio runs a finger over my ass crack and pushes in threateningly. “Ass is a little bit flat, but I guess that’s a given if she’s been living on the streets. We’ll feed her up and give her a little bit more meat on her bones.”
“You know, I think she really will look sexy when you knock her up,” Slayer says thoughtfully. “She’ll gain some weight, maybe in her tits and ass, and she’ll even have a little belly. You gonna keep her knocked up all the time?”
I tense up, and I’m glad I’m facing away from them, so they can’t see just how their words are affecting me.
“Fuck, I hadn’t considered that. Do I need more than one kid, Damien?”
There’s a small pause, then Damien says, “Heirs are typically male.”
Slayer barks out a laugh. “So just keep getting her pregnant until she gives you a boy. I think she’ll look sexy as fuck with that little glow pregnant women get. It’s gonna destroy her resale value, though.”
Resale value.
I go rigid at that, trying to even out my breathing as I stare at the wall. They wouldn’t.
They would.
“Breast milk is best for children though,” Damien interjects. “You want your children to grow up healthy and strong. You can’t simply sell her off.”
“Of course, of course. No formula formykids.” Giulio puts both hands on my ass and slowly runs them up my back, until he reaches my bra.
My breathing gets heavier and I’m trying so damned hard to hold back the sobs.
What happens if I can’t breastfeed? Not every woman can. There’s nothing wrong with formula-feeding, no matter what Damien seems to think, and I’d definitely prefer it over the invasiveness of having them monitor me breastfeeding.
But then, they seem like they’re going to be invading every aspect of my life from here on out.
He unclasps the bra and pushes the straps down my arm. “All right, turn around again so we can see your tits. Those are the real moneymakers around here anyway. Tits are way more legal to show off.”
I turn around, shaking so violently I’m not sure I can even remain upright as my bra drops to the table beneath me.
Slayer lets out a disgruntled little sound. “She’s… small. How’s she even gonna feed a kid with those?”
“Flat-chested women breast-feed all the time,” Damien says, glowering at Slayer. “And they’ll grow with all the pregnancy hormones. Besides, Giulio likes ‘em small.”
Giulio laughs and pinches both my nipples. “I do! No offense to your sister and her knockers, but I do like a more linear silhouette.”
I whimper, biting my lip hard so I don’t make any more noise as he twists my nipples in his fingers.
“No one’s coming in here for flat-chested bitches, though,” Slayer complains. “She’s gonna suck on the floor.”
“If she dances well, they won’t care,” Giulio answers. He gives my breasts one last squeeze before he reaches down to my stockings, pulling on the elastic. “Damn, you sure got dressed up for a wedding you gave no fucks about.”
I hadn’t had a choice, if I’d wanted Emilio Pavone to think I was taking it seriously. I’d have put Lucia at risk if I hadn’t played along, and that had meant perfect clothes, perfect hair, perfect makeup—all of which were destroyed now. I’m a disheveled mess, and I don’t even care.
I don’t say anything in response, closing my eyes as he starts to push the stockings down my legs. Every second bares me more, exposing more of my body to them.
Giulio picks up one of my legs, forcing me to grip his shoulders or risk falling, to pull first the shoe, then the stocking off it. He repeats it on the other foot, and from the wicked smile he gives me, he knows exactly how unbalanced I am.
Now I’m left in nothing but my panties. Giulio sets his hand directly over them, cupping my vulva and rubbing insistently against the lace.
“What’s it gonna take to get her wet?” Giulio asks, looking straight up at me. “I know it’s not gonna be Slayer’s cock that does it.”
