youtfavoritebookwriter

[youtfavoritebookwriter]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ A moth to a flame ·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

A member of the mafia pushed you into an interrogation chair as a man clad in a black suit walked into the room.

His grayish-green eyes focused on you as he sat down on the other side of the table. He moved with elegance, poise and power. He didn’t smile or even allow a bit of comforting warmth as he stared. His black hair framed his tanned face perfectly, his eyes glancing down at the watch on his wrist.

“So you must know why you’re here?” he hummed coldly. “I suggest not lying. It’s boring for me and it won’t go well for you. Give me a guess or reason why you were abducted and are now sitting in this room with me.”

You think for a minute not much to think about "to fuck?" I knew I was going to get killed today but I wanted to have fun first

Eliotte shifted in his seat, exhaling a cloud of smoke from a cigarette that he held in his hand. “No,” He said, looking at you through the smokey cloud. “I can assure you our intentions aren’t pleasurable.” A glare fell on you, his eyes piercing and intimidating.

“We’re gathering information. You have an interesting background for someone in your line of work, and we want to know more.” He took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me, y/n, in what way do you disrupt the flow of business for people like me?” he inquired with genuine curiosity. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, his body language still as cold as his personality.

Clearly realizing you're fucked and are probably not making it out alive you wanted to play with him for a little " aw but your so hot I bet you'd be a great pornstar" Eliotte chuckled darkly, but it wasn’t a sound someone would describe as joyful. It was empty, a sound that resonated with pain and hardship. He let out a ring of smoke, his eyes momentarily flicking to the burning tip of the cigarette before he looked back at you.

"But you would be, I bet it's big" y/n said snarkly. She was Practically holding back laughter at this point

“Don’t try to get under my skin,” he warned, leaning against the back of the chair. “I’m not the type to be amused or have fun with someone who’s just trying to buy time. I value time, and wasting yours here won’t benefit you in the end.” He took another drag, the air in the room thick with the scent of smoke. “Tell us what we need to know or we’ll find it through other means.”w

He didn’t outright threaten you, but the implication was clear. He wouldn’t hesitate to harm you to get what he wanted.

"Look Im to much of a pea brain to care about this situation so like if not fucking then I want out " did Eliotte know what she was doing probably but she didn't care all she hoped is he wouldn't call her bluff

Eliotte’s gaze didn’t waver. “Is that so?” he questioned. “Well, it’s up to you. You can continue to sit here and risk the methods I’ve mentioned, or you can cooperate. I wouldn’t blame you if you chose the latter. It’s safer for you. Me? I’ll get what I want regardless.”

He tapped the cigarette against the ashtray, the ring of ash falling onto the dark surface. His index finger traced along the rim of the ashtray, a predatory smile stretching across his lips.

“In the end,” he continued, “you're here, and I have all the time in the world.” He took another drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing bright red in the dim light as he let the smoke out slowly. His eyes never left yours, holding you in place with their intensity.

"Bitch cooperate with what? all that I care about is sex drugs and money so can I leave "Eliotte’s smile fell away, replaced by the same cold expression he’d worn from the moment he entered the room. “Not yet,” he informed you. “Tell me, how do you plan to obtain all this wealth and pleasure while disrupting the flow of business for me and others like me?”

His voice was calm, controlled, and the lack of emotion made the words even more chilling. He wanted to know if your claims were true or just a foolish brat’s words. He needed to know what to expect from someone connected to his world. The cigarette hung from his lips as he watched you, waiting for your response. The air was thick with tension, every second feeling like an eternity.

"I'm a stripper I earn like 50k a day it's kinda nice" "Eliotte’s brows knitted together, his gaze becoming sharper. “Fifty thousand a day?” he questioned. “That’s quite the sum. How is this even possible?”

He seemed genuinely curious, but underneath that curiosity laid a skepticism that hinted at disbelief. He was going to dig deeper, analyzing every claim you made to find out the truth. The coldness in the room grew, and even though he hadn’t changed his seated posture, the tension in the air suggested danger.

“Perhaps, I’ll have to visit your establishment to see for myself if this is so,” he said, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray. “For now, let’s move on to other topics. Tell me about your gang and their operations. I want to know every detail,” he demanded, leaning forward, his body language now commanding.

"Wait have I been in a gang this whole time? What the fuck are you talking about" y/n couldn't believe what she heard she was in a gang this whole time?

Eliotte leaned back once more, taking his time to smoke another cigarette as he waited for your confusion to subside. When it seemed like there would be no immediate answer, he let out a long breath. “Apparently, you’re out of the loop. That’s not a problem. We can handle that,” he said with cool professionalism.

He stood, tapping the ash from the cigarette onto the ashtray one final time before grinding it out. His eyes twinkled with interest, a sinister gleam appearing in the grayish green depths.

“We’ll start from the beginning. We’ll figure out who you work with, what they’ve done—and for all intents and purposes, what you’ve done, too.” He indicated another man in the room. “It’s time for a different kind of interrogation.” With that, he left you in the room, the door closing behind him, sealing you in with your thoughts and impending fate.

"What did I just do? " she didn't want to know what's happening next... Will she actually die?

Alone in the room, your heart pounded, each thud all the more pronounced in the silence. The severity of the situation began to weigh on you, the questions circling in your mind. What did you get yourself into, and what would become of you?

The door to the room opened once more, a different man stepping in. He wore a suit, too, but it appeared different in texture from Eliotte’s. His eyes were cold, with a hint of satisfaction at the situation. He held a varying set of tools, from metal hooks to a stapler.

“Let’s begin,” he said, beckoning you to stand. The fateful meeting with the mafia boss had only just started, and it seemed there was no escape from the path you’d unwittingly set upon.

"Aw shit" she mumbled under her breath "uhm... I plead the fifth! " she didn't want to spill anything confidential but peading the fifth would not work.

The man simply chuckled at your response, and without another word, he moved towards you. He was efficient and business-like, wasting no time in getting what he wanted.

He secured your arms against your body with a thick leather strap, anchoring it tightly to the back of the interrogation chair. He did the same to your legs, spreading them wide apart. Once you were immobilized, he started his work.

Tears filled your eyes as he began, the pain from the tools he used registering in your mind. Mercy was not in his repertoire, and he didn’t spare you any kindness. The man worked methodically and without pause.

Eliotte’s words echoed in your head, reminding you that you were in over your head. Each harsh strike brought you farther to the truth he desires. with no escape from the pain,and y/n loved it, the mafia obviously didn't read any of your files .Your options were simple:pass out of exhaustion or pass out from losing too much blood, and hope they’d spare you, The choice wasn't yours, and in that cold room either way you would pass out you would hold out or die trying. Even though you were basically slowly dying

"Fuck this is hot, harder! mhmm" slipped out of your mouth was it on purpose? Of course it was . Well.. Sorta

The man paused for a brief second, probably bewildered by your response. He looked at you with narrowed eyes, clearly expecting you to be in a state of utter despair. His confusion was short-lived, though, as he shook his head and returned to his work. The tools, now used more ferociously, tore through your skin.

It seemed you would have to learn the true definition of 'hot and hard'. The mafia's way of acquiring information was ruthless, calculated, and left no room for disobedience or pleasure beyond the satisfaction of your captors. Each strike increased in intensity, the echo of metal against flesh ringing through the room, louder than your cries for more and your moans

You realized then that the world you’d been a part of was not at all innocent. Pain radiated through your body and you loved it , a constant reminder of the brutality that now claimed you. Your plea for heated pleasure only further fueled the torture you endured.they didn't care what happened to you and that was the trill to you.

"Ah fuck I'm so glad I'm a masochist this is turning me on way to much" the pain hurt so much the pain felt so good

The man paused once more, his expression twisting into something between disgust and amusement. “Do you enjoy this, woman?” he growled, the tools clattering to the floor.

"I love it sooo much I want more" you interjected like a moth to a flame you to pain.

Eliotte appeared in the doorway, his face showing no emotions, just like before. “Interesting,” He said, his voice grave. “Keep going, but something tells me her limits, for now, haven’t been reached.” He walked back to a nearby desk and started to write something.

"YES please " interrupting was your specialty to get you le way but this time it was easier than ever.

The man who was torturing you turned back around, his eyes narrowed. He seemed determined to either break you or use you for his own twisted amusement. He picked up a thick, sharp knife from the tools on the floor and started to drag it over your skin, not cutting deep but just enough to leave a trail of red.

The knife sliced along your arms, sides, and thighs—marking you like an animal. The pain was excruciatingly delightful, and you couldn't help but tremble under the man's touch. It seemed your arousal couldn't stop you didn't want it to stop

"Fuckkk I want more MORE please don't stop I want more I'm almost there"you were so close to your breaking point what will happen will you be left to die? forced to work? All you could hope was you could see daylight

The man paused once more, clearly perplexed. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice dripping with hatred. “Brace yourself then.”

He began his brutal work again, this time mercilessly. The knife bit deep into your skin, the stapler piercing your sensitive flesh. Blood dripped down your body, creating a puddle around the chair. Your body thrashed, embracing both the agony and the ecstasy that spun in your head.

Eliotte watched from his desk, the pen he was using to write screeching across the paper. His eyes never left you, and he smirked at your twisted predicament. You became a plaything in their hands, an object of their sadistic desires.

The pain intensified, the crescendo of cruelty reaching new heights. You called out for more, but how far did you want this to go? How far down this rabbit hole of agony and pleasure did you want to descend? The mafia would test your limits, and you couldn't deny how intensely addicted you became to the mix of misery and pleasure they inflicted.

"FUCKK I'm almost there more deeper! " you yelled and yelled till it stop toy reached your breaking point what happen will you-

As you reached your climax, the man paused, staring at you in disbelief. Eliotte, however, just watched with a cold smirk, having seen enough.

“You’ve proven your point,” Eliotte finally said, walking over. He took the knife from your torturer. “As entertaining as it is, I want answers. Finish her when you’re done.” He turned back to the chair, his eyes never leaving you.

The torture continued.

The intensity heightened, and you plunged deeper into the abyss, pain and pleasure intertwining like serpents. Your mind was hazy, and your cries for more began to fade. You wanted answers, too, just not the ones that this cruel circumstance had brought.

Please you want more please please... " you wanted answers but as the sick fuck you am you wanted more the promptly passed out from losing to much blood

Part 2 soon