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Against everything that was in me, against every breath I took, against every step I walked, against every second I counted, I changed those suitcases, even though inside I felt like I was breaking into irreparable pieces. Even though every fear, insecurity, and judgment I've ever felt was bouncing around in my chest. And all for one thing: for possibilities. So that my sister could be at home with the minimum of comfort. So that she would have more family than I ever had. So that she would know that even though it is hot, humid, and bordering on unhealthy, there is a home she can always return to.
The whole point is that my ability to offer possibilities to Raquel ends there. There's a world of things she'll never have, and even if I spent every second of every day for the rest of my life changing bags in airports, it wouldn't be enough.
“Earth to Gabi!” Raquel speaks loudly, raising her hand and passing it in front of my eyes.
“Hi.” I blink several times before fixing my attention on her fragile and pale frame.
The oversized white nightgown doesn't do her sickly appearance any favors. The tiredness is written all over her face, even though she spent the day lying down. She always does.
My sister was six years old when she was diagnosed with sickle cell anemia, an incurable, genetic disease that requires frequent blood transfusions and very expensive medication. Fatigue, pain, and frequent infections are just some of the symptoms my sister has to live with. In part, because a recessive gene that could have been born with me or with Fernanda decided to be born in Raquel and, in part, because we simply couldn't afford the treatments.
SUS[35] does the minimum to keep her alive, but not enough for her to have quality of life. I don't remember the last timeI saw my sister's skin or eyes free of the yellowish tinge of jaundice[36].
Or when was the last time I was able to just not wish she could be a normal eleven-year-old girl: one who goes to school, plays with dolls, runs down the street, and does whatever eleven-year-old girls do?
“You weren't listening,” she complains.
“Sorry, I was thinking it's time for you to sleep,” I lie.
“Sleep with me?” she asks, quietly, after several seconds of considering what I said.
I shouldn't, the bed is too small to comfortably accommodate Raquel alone, let alone both of us. I look at the space around us, our father is lying down, sleeping in his corner of the shack and Fernanda is nowhere in sight. I should not. I really shouldn't.
“Yes, I will.”
CHAPTER 9
________
Vittorio Cataneo
The familiar feeling of power courses through my veins as my eyes sweep the scenery around me. The lights streaming through the windows and reflecting off the white marble floor are the only lighting in the luxurious hotel room, but the darkness is the perfect match for the scene unfolding inside.
The woman tied to the chair in the center of the room pants as I circle her body. Naked, vulnerable, and completely at my disposal, she writhes, straining her bonds as she sticks her round ass out even further.
I stop in front of her, admiring the work I’ve done with the ropes. Her sweaty skin is tight, covered in red lines at the points where the greatest pressure is exerted: her abdomen, the curve of her breasts, her thighs, and her neck.
The smell of sweat and sex spreads throughout the room along with unrestrained feminine panting. I lean forward, whispering in Portuguese in her ear as my fingers trace the grooves of the strings.
“You like that, don't you? The submission.” The whore's response is a low moan, agreeing.
The excitement clawing at my nerves isn't enough to blind me to how quickly the innocent girl act fell the instant the bedroom doors closed.
My fingers slide down her skin, outline a perky breast, circle her hardened nipple before squeezing it hard. Standing and leaning over the furniture, her wrists are tied to the back of the chair and her knees touch the edge of the empty seat. The woman whimpers at the brutality, but when my other hand reaches between her legs and I insert three fingers at once into her soaked pussy, her whimper turns into a scream of pleasure.
I knew she was lying from the first glance, of course. And that's what convinced me to take her out of the hotel lobby, where she was looking for a pocket she could empty tonight, or this week, and bring her to my bed.
It wasn't the sex, the sculptural body with brown skin, nor the doll-like face that convinced me, it was the awareness of the pleasure that seeing her break would give me. I am not a man who allows himself to be dominated by pleasures, in general, by an addiction, by a fuck or by power, men who have done so have already been destroyed by it. The adrenaline that floods my body as I demand submission, however, is something else entirely.
Even now, as I rub my sweaty skin against the Brazilian slut's, it's not my hard cock throbbing in my pants eager to sink into her hot pussy that's my greatest source of satisfaction. If it were, I would have ended this hours ago and wouldn't have a slut willing to do anything for an orgasm begging me to fuck her.
I finish walking around her body and move closer, and stop touching her. I press my chest against her back, feeling the movements of her torso dictated by her rapid breathing on the bare skin of my chest. My hand goes up to her hair, gathering the strands and pulling them, forcing her head to move where I want it.
I sink my teeth into the curve between her shoulder and her neck, biting hard, ensuring it will remain scarred for days beforeI lean back and unbutton my pants with one hand and release my erection. The sounds of my movement make the woman squirm even more, rubbing the rope on the pressure points and leaving her body even more exposed.
I reach for the condom in my front pants pocket and unroll it over my cock. The slut continues to strain the ropes that bind her legs and arms to the chair in a challenge to my delay. I pull her hair harder and smile. I spit on my dick; the saliva runs down the covered head and I rub it against the whore's ass before it can drip onto the floor. The female body moves, I take my free hand to her round ass and open it. I put it in her tight ass all at once, and theputtana[37]'s scream at the unexpected invasion makes the control over her even more pleasurable. The warm body around my cock squeezes it like a closed fist, sending shivers down my spine and forcing me to struggle to control my breathing.
“Silence!” I demand in a dry tone, with my cock completely buried in her ass while I pull her hair enough to force her gaze to meet mine, sideways. The corner of her eye is damp with unshed tears as she keeps her mouth open in an attempt to make it easier to breathe. “Do you want to cum?” Her response comes in the form of a desperate nod of agreement. “Then you're going to let me fuck your ass in silence,” I warn before moving again, giving the next thrusts with even more intensity than I did the first.
