La Gatita Del Mafioso

As her orgasm subsided, she couldn't bring herself to struggle; meanwhile the man took the liberty of lifting her into a princess carry. He walked across the room and set her down on the ground, in front of a large pet cage she hadn't seen before, behind and adjacent to the large mahogany desk. Taking her by her nape, he guided her firmly into her new cage. By the time her brain lit up enough to think of fighting, he gave her a firm slap on her lewd ass to really push her in there, and locked it shut behind her.

She turned around, and had to deal with the increasing humiliation of her reality. She hated that she'd just been forcibly fingered, raped. That she'd just been forced to cum from it. It was like she was just some silly animal to him, like she just needed a nice, horny little treat to calm her down. From her cage, the woman glared up at her captor. He, in turn, only gave her a cruel and lighthearted smile.

"Stay put, gatita. You can have dinner later," the big man said, in his sultry accent. She was afraid that was some unpleasant innuendo, but she couldn't say for sure.

In any case, after that, the gang leader for the most part ignored his new plaything. He let her rest in peace in the comfort of her new home-- her black steel cage, its floor littered with pink fluffy pillows and black silk blankets nestled into a comfy little nest. And, of course, a little fuzzy mouse toy thrown in there. For kicks.

Feeling demeaned from having to sit in this stupid cage and being treated like an animal, the woman, at first, stayed stubbornly seated upright and wouldn't stop glaring daggers at him. But after a couple minutes of sitting in silence, the man, without taking his eyes off his desk, nonchalantly asked, "You need attention, gatita?" She blushed, now a bit embarrassed by her small attempt at retaliation; she quickly looked away in a vain attempt to salvage her pride. Having given up and taken her attention off her captor, she naturally started to make herself comfy and curl up in the cage.

Sporadically at points within the next several hours, the gang leader would beckon some stray goon into the office, hand them a note or give them some vague order, and then they'd leave. Each time she'd see them glance and chuckle at her, though, which would always put a blush on her face and made her impulsively cover up her breasts and crotch. She had no idea what they were occupied with, or if they were talking about her. Hell, she had no idea what this mob boss's empire was even built on; probably gambling-related, since that's how her selfish boy toy got her into this hell.

Soon enough, night fell. The faint, crimson light that made it through the closed shades surrendered to the dusk. The woman was afraid, but grateful she was being left mostly alone. On top of that though, she was really hungry and thirsty. So when the big scary man said, "Gatita, dinnertime," she reluctantly turned her eyes to him. Food didn't sound half bad right now.

Into the office came a chef, dressed in some damn, elegant chef's-wear. Whoever this mob boss was, he wasn't skimping out on luxury. The chef carried a golden tray, emblazoned with flowery engravings. "To the whore," the boss commanded, turning his attention from his desk to his new pet for the first time in hours. He leaned back and gazed at her as the chef set the tray down in front of her cage. Upon the tray rested a porcelain bowl, and across the front in golden cursive lettering, it read, "Mittens's Food."

The woman's eyes widened, her face flushing in furious embarrassment. She wanted to cuss this fucker out, this cruel, misogynistic asshole and his prick of a chef, but just barely kept herself from saying anything-- since 'bitches don't talk.' The thought made her want to roll her eyes. But what she really couldn't swallow was what she saw inside the porcelain pet bowl: it was filled to the brim with thick, white semen. And she was sure it was semen. She'd seen semen before. The woman yelped out and jumped away from the bowl to the back of her cage, glaring at the bowl with disgust as she breathed heavily.

"You don't like it?" the boss asked, with a smirk on his face, leaning in towards her. "It's going to be your daily meals from now on. I'll give you supplements of course, maybe some yummy cat food. But cum is going to be what my new kitten eats."

She was horrified. She wasn't eating that. How had he acquired so much? God, this was probably the semen of a dozen, two dozen men.

"Wait 'til you see your water bowl, Mittens," he added, with a devilish smile. Oh god. She turned and saw the chef coming back with another porcelain bowl. "Mittens's Water," it read. And like the first, the chef set it before the cage and bowed out of the office. But this time, it was filled to the brim with something else. It was piss.

"NO! NO NO NO!" the woman shrieked. This was a nightmare. She was stuck in the cage of this dangerous, sadistic man, as retribution for the sins of her ex, being forced to replace this mob boss's stolen kitten by living as some perverse, subhuman sex pet. And for the fun of it, she was being told to drink cum and piss. She couldn't. She wouldn't. No matter what, she wouldn't.

But the mob boss didn't like that. He was pissed off, and she could see it. "Somebody forgot that cunts don't talk." Her eyes widened. He got up and yanked the cage door open. She scrambled backwards away from him. "PLEASE! NO!" But her words were met with nothing but retaliation-- a horrible strike across her face, the moment she used her voice.

He took the victim by her hair and dragged her out of the cage. "Bad, fucking girl." He shoved her head hard onto the hardwood floor and pressed his foot hard against her back so she couldn't get up. Her big, bare breasts and nipples squished against the freezing wood, making her whimper.

Suddenly she felt the man's grip tightening around the object in her ass. She looked back in apprehension, remembering how long and hard it took to put that in there. "No no no no--"

But in one motion, he pulled hard on the tail, forcing it out of her cavity.

"AEUGH FUCK!" she screamed out, feeling her asshole get stretched to its limits.

He slammed his palm down hard on her ass. "QUIETA. SILENCIO. There's a much easier solution to this. You take your punishment or I'll cut out your useless vocal cords."

She stayed still then. She was trembling with fear and rage and horror and pain. She couldn't help letting out another scream, when he shoved the huge kitty tail plug back into her asshole, stretching it out. "MMMM--!" She tried to muffle her voice as much as she could, and hoped to God that the cute little whimper that resulted wouldn't piss off the man. He seemed to allow it.

Then, he yanked the tail out again. She screamed another muffled whimper, sobbing now. He shoved it back in. He pulled it out. Again and again. He did this for a good five minutes, the violent force of each shove and pull making her abundant ass jiggle with excitement each time, until the buttplug slid in and out of her poor, gaping asshole with ease. She'd heal, and her asshole would tighten itself back up, but the excruciating pain she felt right then, from this unbearably degrading violation-- that's something she wouldn't forget. The woman did learn. From that day, she would never speak a real human word again.

When the punishment was done, the Spaniard let his pathetic woman fall to the floor to cry to herself. As he came into her line of sight, she glared up at him with disdain through her tears and stained eyeliner. She was still determined not to drink any of the horrendous meals she'd been served. But the Spaniard wasn't having her misbehavior.

"All right, gatita. You don't wanna eat? Fine." He took her forcibly by the neck and without warning, shoved her face into the cum bowl.

"AEIG--!" she screamed out, though interrupted by the thick semen painting her face and flooding into her nose and onto her eyes and into her mouth. She tried to keep her lips and nostrils shut, but she was held in there for a good thirty seconds despite her struggling, so when she was allowed to crawl herself out, she was spitting up and sputtering cum everywhere. She wanted to vomit. But she wasn't done. He took her by the nape again. She wanted to protest, but didn't say a word out of terror of punishment, so, like before, all she could do was struggle uselessly as her face was dunked into her cat bowl full of piss, and she was forced to drown in it until he gave her permission to breathe again.

The woman gagged, but before she could process what had happened, she felt the sharp, horrible pain of a belt against her bare ass.

"NNGH!" she cried out.

"CAGE, gatita. You don't want to eat? You won't eat. We'll try again tomorrow." She hesitated. Crawling back into the cage, willfully imprisoning herself again, was a horrible idea. But the man could see she was thinking. So the belt lashed again, much harsher this time, leaving her plump, fat ass purple and welted once its jiggling calmed down.

"AGNH!" she cried harder, tears streaming down her face.

"You'll learn. You don't think. You don't plan, cunt. You do as you're told, and you look pretty doing it. That's what you're for."

Her fists curled up, she couldn't just crawl back in there. She needed to escape.

"Hesitando todavía?" The man was fed up with her misbehavior, but he knew what he had to do. He set his belt down on the desk, out of his hands, and crossed his arms.

"Escape then, whore."

The woman's heart stopped. He must've known what she was thinking. Of course he did. Adrenaline filled her veins.

"GRRAH!" she screamed out, and jumped to her feet before running for the door. The man's long reach alone was enough to grab her by the throat, and his grip was strong enough to stop her, lifting her onto her toes from behind. With his other hand, he took the belt, and lashed her more violently than any of the previous times, leaving a cut across both ass cheeks.

"MMMNMN!" she cried out in pain, before groaning again, as the man threw her back down to her cage.

"That's a nipple piercing. You gonna try again, cunt?"

A nipple piercing? Oh god. She had to escape now. Her ass hurt like all hell, especially since she landed on it just now, all bruised up as it was. She glared at his invitation, but if he wasn't restraining her, she fucking had to. She didn't have a choice now.

"Malparido hijueputa," the woman thought, and jumped towards the desk to grab a weapon, a pen, something to hurt the bastard with. Right before she could though, she saw his hand raised high in the air, and then--

WHAP. A slap had thrown her back to the ground through force alone. She realized too late that her thighs were wide open; all she felt was a sharp, excruciating pain coming from her pussy. She didn't even see the man's brutal stomp.

"Another nipple piercing. Try again, niñita."

Her face paled. No. She had to escape. She couldn't get two nipple piercings, that wasn't going to happen. And yet, she looked up at him paralyzed with fear. What was she going to do? He didn't seem to be in any hurry. She glanced around, looking for some way, any way out of this. Her heavy bosom heaved with exhaustion. Okay, no weapon. She just had to kick his shins. That's exactly what she did.

And he dodged. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Oh god. She tried kicking again, she kicked furiously at him, shrieking with each kick, trying to get his balls. None of it worked, none of it was effective. All it did was give him her legs, which he caught. He pulled her up off the ground-- his strength astounding her-- and threw her onto his desk. He forced her thick thighs apart, despite her trying as hard as she could to keep them together, still trying to kick him, clawing at him. He slapped her hard across the face again to stun her, and then again, once she got rowdy. Then, he took her by the throat and began shoving random objects from his desk into her pussy: pens, pencils, a stress ball, the back end of a stapler, a ruler.

"NGHG!" she screamed out, in pained arousal. Her poor bruised cunt twitched happily upon being stuffed, despite how far it was being stretched. She couldn't take it. Then, he was done. She sobbed quietly to herself.

"Clit piercing too. Get the fuck off my desk, slut. Get on the floor where you belong. And crawl back into your cage."

The woman couldn't try again. She just couldn't. She was already getting three piercings. God, three fucking piercings. It set in. She couldn't get another, she couldn't begin to guess where the next one would be. She glanced down at her stuffed pussy, and then glared meekly at the man she hated. She was asking with her eyes for him, "How do I do that with this shit inside me?"

"You take them out in your cage. You dirtied them with your filthy pussy, damn slut. So you clean them with your tongue. Now get the fuck off my desk before I rape your mouth."

She gasped in fear and scrambled off the desk, shifting with difficulty and discomfort from the objects in her pussy, the plug in her ass, and the pain from his abuse. On the floor and facing the cage, she gazed into it. And then she slowly began to crawl in, starting to cry again, too. One of the pens embarrassingly fell out of her as she crawled, and she hesitated, hoping she could just leave it.

WHAP. A sweet little slap to her round behind told her otherwise. "Shove it back in, gatita." She choked out a sob. Her hand reached back, found the pen on the floor, and then brought it up to her pussy, slowly squeezing it in and displacing the other junk inside her. Then, she kept crawling in, her bubbly buttcheeks shifting left and right with each step. When she was finally inside, the gang leader locked the door behind her.

"Que linda." He gave her a sweet little air kiss, before sitting down at his desk and crossing his legs. He kept his eyes on her, though. She averted her gaze, knowing what it was he was expecting of her. So slowly, she reached down, and pulled a pen from her pussy. She brought it up to her lips. She'd never eaten pussy before. She could smell it before it touched her tongue. She took it into her mouth, and sucked on it, before starting to cry to herself. Once she was done, she set it outside the cage, glancing at the man, and in return, he took it with two fingers like it was still filthy-- to her embarrassment-- wiped it dry with a handkerchief, and set it on his desk. And then he waited for the next one.

One by one, she cleaned the utensils, sucking the pussy juice off them and swallowing, until there was nothing left up in there. By the time she was done, she was out of tears.

"Good kitty," the man smiled. She felt broken. "Rest. We'll have you pierced tomorrow."

The poor, exhausted woman drifted slowly into an uncertain sleep, resting from her injuries, in the comfort of her new cat bed.