Chapter sixty two

The knot he used in tying me to the bed was really strong. It took him half an hour to loosen both my hands and legs.
When I suggested that he cut it with scissors, he frowned at me. And then, he retorted. "If I cut it with knife or scissors, what do you want me to use in tying you next time?"
I was in for slavery. I said nothing, but waited patiently until I was loosened completely.
"You know what to say." He was shuttling to the wardrobe, to deposit the rope in it.
"Thank you?" I wasn't sure, but it seemed like he loved that word a lot.
"Welcome." He opened the door, for me to walk out.
"I'm not dressed." How was I expected to walk around naked?
"And so, what?" He sighed, before speaking on. "you have no dignity whatsoever, neither do you have anything to hide. A young lady who was deflowered by her father is bothered about walking around naked. And to think that she's home alone, with the man she was pleading for his body today..." He sighed in what I think was disgust, and then motioned on me to leave the room.
"You know I'm on my period. As you can see, the bedspread is stained. I can't walk around like this, I'll stain more things." That convinced him.
"Go in there, everything you need is there. You might as well shower, while you are at it." He pulled on the bed spread, and it came off. He fumbled it, and then tossed into the laundry basket. It was a white spread, with floral designs colored red and orange.
After a while, I was back to the room. He was sitted on the mattress, with both legs crossed. Puffing on a stick of cigar. His mask was still in tact, he just positioned it in a way that the stick of cigar would be able to get into his mouth, and out of his mouth.
"Do you care for a stick?" I was hoping he wouldn't ask.
"No, no! I don't care for a stick." I was dressed in the short flay gown that he provided me with, and I was still really grateful for it.
Until I figured a way out, I had to play by his rules. But smoking? The last time I did that, it was a near death experience.
And didn't the doctors say it wasn't safe to do so while on your period?
I was unsure, but not willing to try.
"Why not?" He shifted his mask a little bit, I think it was so that he could get a better view of me.
"It's not healthy for women who are menstruating." He better believe that, because I wasn't willing to take cigar.
"Oh! Then what is?" He coughed a little bit, regained his composure and continued with his creepy glare. I could see his eyes through the mask, although I had to squint before I saw it.
"I don't know, good food?" I was famished.
He laughed hard, clapped his hands, then threw the almost burnt stick to the floor and matched it with his boot.
"You are not going to eat anything else, until you take this." He handed me a stick, and a match box. "Here..." He was pointing to the position next to him. "Sit, and start already. I'll let you eat, but first you have to smoke with me." It sounded funny and stupid. What was his business with me smoking? I was going to argue, but he was obviously not willing to listen.
I lighted the cigar, and sat next to him. I was so uncomfortable. He tried wrapping his arms around my waist, while blowing the air from the cigar into my face. That was really uncomfortable, I couldn't imagine smoking myself.
"Go on, except you aren't hungry?" He was not changing his mind, this was the only way out.
I shut my eyes, and put the cigar inside my mouth. And then I took in a lot of the smoke, and blew it out almost immediately.
I didn't like it one bit. I began to cough so violently, and jerk in response to the smoke.
"I think I'm allergic to smoking." I finally said, unable to continue with it.
"And I am allergic to excuses." He wasn't going to change his mind, this was proof. I had almost turned red, from taking in so much smoke, but he didn't care. What would move him if this didn't? "Again, you aren't going to have anything to eat, if you don't finish chewing that stick of cigar." He stood, and locked the door, then proceeded to the bedside drawer, to sort documents out.
I made another attempt, and this was less disastrous. My system reacted to it, just not as violently as the first time.
I continued swallowing the smoke, until the stick was finished. I felt numb, too irked to even speak.
"Good job, girlfriend." He looked up at me, when he saw me throw what was left of the stick to the ground, and stamp it.
"One more thing, and I'll let you have breakfast. Or should I say, lunch?" He gave another creepy giggle, then walked over to me. "You have to wash all these dirty clothings, because you messed most of them up. As soon as you are done with it, you can have your meal for the day."
I was still coughing hard, unable to understand why people smoke.
I was unable to depict if it was hunger, cramps or the smoke that was causing the hurting in my stomach.
"Cammie, one more thing." He was currently at the door, and about to leave. "Your boyfriend has been texting and calling since yesterday."
That snapped me out of the euphoria. "My boyfriend? Keddy?" My voice was coarse for a moment.
"Yes, Keddy. He seems really worried. I'll have to deal with him if he's going come in the way of you and I. Except you are willing to do as I tell you to."
Queen of the Mafia's Revenge
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