Luca (You Will Be Mine)(2)

By: Jaimie Roberts



Slamming the wall with my fists, I came to a sudden conclusion. It was something I’d always known I was going to do—deep down—from the moment I saw that fucking picture.

That’s why you offered Trudy a way out, you silly fuck. You knew then that you had to have her.

I turned the shower off and grabbed my towel. The decision had been made. I was going to go to Clara Murphy, but first I wanted to see just how tough she really was.

With my mind made up, I smiled; excitement was growing with every thought which passed through my head. I was going to go to Clara Murphy and sort out this little obsession of mine once and for all. I knew all I had to do was see her and my mind would be made up for me. I would either fuck her until she was out of my system—or I would make her mine.

Getting dressed and ready to leave, I already knew in my subconscious what the answer was going to be.

I’m coming to get you, Clara Murphy. So, you had better be ready for me. You will be mine, and there isn’t a damn fucking thing you can do to stop me.





My parents had always been rich, well-respected, churchgoing pillars of the community. They were also selfish and manipulative pieces of work. My childhood was a filled with memories of nothing but pain and anguish. Everything I did was a sin. Every thought I had was a sin.

They tried bringing me up to their standard of living, but I could never be moulded. From the time I was a little girl, I had possessed an independent streak, so it never worked. Even when my dad decided to beat some sense into me and my mother let him, I never once faltered. She would resort to reading passages from the Bible in an effort to excuse the level of abuse I was made to suffer.

That is what brought me to the point in my life where I was completely cut off from my past and sitting in a posh office, which was situated in an actual castle. It helped that I had a very rich auntie who was willing to aid me in setting it all up.

Trudy was a silent partner in this little venture, and although what we did was unconventional, we made lots of money doing it. At the end of the day, sex sells, and our rich clients were willing to pay top dollar for high-class girls. Sure, we have had our ups and downs, but there hasn’t been anything I couldn’t handle. For example, one situation I had to deal with resulted in me punching one of my clients.

Well, he had tried to rough up one of my girls. I didn’t care that he had paid us lots of money or that he was a VIP. The fact remained that he had tried to rough up my girl, and that was never going happen in my house. Not ever.

This was one of the reasons why I was sought after. I always had at least a few girls lined up, waiting to join my troops—but only the best would make it. Before joining, they would be tested and sent through rigorous checks before they could make the cut.

Our clients underwent the same process. We only served the best—for the best. People appreciated our high standards, and they loved us because of our discretion. If anyone ever asked, this was just a hotel, and the only shenanigans that took place were done behind closed doors. We were strict, confidential, and tolerated absolutely no nonsense.

I must admit, there was something quite rewarding about owning my own business. I knew mine was a little bit risqué, but I was still a businesswoman nonetheless. My girls were all well cared for and clean. They respected me and came to me for help when needed—which was what I was there for.

I had a house filled with the most cherished girls, and it was because I made damn sure of it. I cared for and respected every single one of them. I offered them a roof over their heads—if they had need of it—and food on the table whilst they were there. They never wanted for anything.

I had around forty girls on my books, and twelve of them lived with me in that grand castle of mine. God, would my parents flip if they ever saw me!

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