Note: The girl named Naomi was featured in the series, Express Delivery. I decided to create something more from that background - why she was taken, etc. and turn this into a series of revenge.
The late morning sunlight danced on the surface of the Mediterranean waters in balls of white-golden brilliance. Reclining in the chair on the back deck of his villa, Andre Spiros let the sun warm him. It did but only to a certain extent. It would never touch the deep chill that prison had left inside of him.
Andre had been a man of influence in the rarified circles of high finance and politics. Those with whom he dealt thought of their misdeeds as white collar crime. Of course they didn't know how many hands got dirty - and bloody - to make it all work. That's where Andre came in. Or had come in until a series of blunders and betrayals sent him to prison for seven years.
When he had come out, much of his fortune - never a matter of public record or accessible by Interpol and individual national law enforcement agencies - was well-intact. But his heady days of influence were over.
It had been the latter that had given him the greatest satisfaction. The son of a fisherman had previously received tycoons and power brokers coming to pay court for his assistance and advice. But they avoided him now and he understood the necessity. Also, his experiences with them had shown him the cowardice and instability beneath their veneers of prestige.
To replace his lost influence, he had decided upon revenge. One of the first was a low-level but well-compensated employee whose greed had torn a hole in Andre's operational security. That in itself could have been taken care of but it happened to come during a train wreck of unfortunate events which sent Andre to trial and prison.
Oh, Andre had no illusions that he was guilty - guilty, in fact of far worse than what he was tried for. But now it was the guilt of others that held his focus. In the case of that man, Andre had his young daughter, a girl of eight named Naomi, kidnapped and pressed into sexual service for discriminating renters. After five months, the girl barely knew her name but was a willing sex toy as long as it meant she'd have those delicious orgasms that filled the void of her fractured childhood.
There was a long wait for those wishing to have the blonde, blue-eyed little girl for their pleasure and several already had. At present, the girl was sleeping face down in Andre's bed, her arms and legs spread and tied (although she was docile, Andre wanted her bound to create a fitting atmosphere) while four cum-loads of her owner's semen oozed from her reddened asshole. Andre's tea contained a potent mix of stimulants that would soon have him hard and ready for another four or more couplings with the girl. This next time, the eight year-old would have her well-used but still incredibly snug cunt reamed.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade
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Changes last made on: Monday, October 30, 2017