The Fancy Pants Club — Chapter 27 - The Touch of the Master

~ Erik ~

Suffering.

That’s the only word I know since I learned of my amazing family history.

First and foremost, I knew already that my mother was ra*ped by my father. I knew that before she died of childbirth because of hemorrhage complications, she named me Erik. The Dominican nuns raised me in their convent afterward and all the while I thought I was an orphan. I never knew about my father and his whereabouts, and the nuns weren’t open to discussing the topic.

I don’t give a damn about it though.

I was content with my life as an innocent errand boy until my father’s goons came and took me away by force when I was fourteen.

I was whisked away to a secluded location and subjected to rows and rows of immense torment my tormentor would call a ‘preparation’ for my eventual life ahead.

Mr. Hyde, as his men mostly called him, taught me how to wield different kinds of high-powered weapons. He taught me how to use a blade and even a mere pen in decapitating the heads of men. He taught me martial arts in the most brutal of ways.

He stripped me bare countless of times in more ways than one. First was through my human emotions, and replaced it with hopelessness, hatred, and anger.

Second was my innocence. He would make me watch how he torments and kill captured government soldiers out of sport.

Third, was the virginity of my mind. He would bring sluts in the hideout and all of them would fuck in front of me. He would order me to ra*pe poor, helpless maidens his men had detained and when I refuse, which I always do, he would force me to watch when they do the appalling thing instead. He had commanded me to jack myself off and take amusement when I do so. It was an abhorring thing to do especially in front of this sick man, but at least this way, I was able to release the uninvited sexual frustration inside of me.

He never missed out reminding me about how great my family lineage is. That my father is the boss of a dangerous, world-renowned mafia organization, Iopata Bratva. That I will become his heir if I pass all of the hurdles thrown at me. That my father named me Nikolai, my Svaneti name, and not just a wimpy Erik. And that I will become a rich, filthy rich man — if I live that is.

Admittedly, these physical, mental, and emotional torments became my ally. It hardened me. Saved me from being nauseatingly fragile. Saved me from turning into a cold, heartless man. Or was I already one?

I have never seen my father in person even once. Even when I turned eighteen and got the Svaneti Family rank tattoo in my neck. Even a call from him or a damn letter, nothing. But it wasn’t like I desired a father-figure. My father, for me, is the devil incarnate himself and he deserved to die with no funeral, no coffin, no prayers, and no visitors; just maggots and worms keeping his worthless body company.

He thought me dead this whole time. He never realized that I survived from drowning in the dam after one of Mr. Hyde’s sick drills when I turned nineteen.

With my clever wits and resourcefulness, and a passing woodsman who took care of me temporarily, I was able to return to the convent months after. Mr. Armando Fancii, a military general benefactor of the convent took me in his house and adopted me like his own son. He helped me cope up with my past life by sending me in military school. He said that my lethal hands would be useful eventually and I believed it so when I became the Fancy Pants Club president.

“Oh, but he doesn’t know that I still exist, Daniella, ” I said with a pained expression.

“I’m sorry, Erik. I wouldn’t even dare ask why, ” was Daniella’s comment after I revealed her a slice of truth in my dark life. She extracted her hand away from my thigh and crossed it with the other in her chest.

“Don’t, ” I shook my head. “It brings too many bad memories, Daniella. You would think me a monster if I tell you.”

She looked determined all of a sudden. “I could never think that way with you, Erik.”

“Even when you know that I kill people?” I added.

“They are bad men are they not? Your actions are justifiable, along with Vincent and the others.”

“Indeed, ” I agreed and smiled, feeling momentarily proud of the nature of my job. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that I aim to kill my own father.” I pointed at her.

She paused for a moment and drew her eyes on the floor. If I wasn’t injured, I would have taken the liberty of pulling her face back to look at me.

After breathing deeply, she looked at me again. “If you think that is wise. I am not going to stop you, ” she said.

“Don’t look at me like that Daniella.” Out-of-the-blue I stressed out after feeling the concern in her hazels.

“Like what?” she replied.

“Like you worry about my future. Just as I’ve told you, I don’t like you turning into a worrywart for me.”

“Huh, ” she twisted her lips and glanced at the ceiling. “At least I care for you.”

“You do?” I quickly asked, taken aback by her words.

Her eyes rounded and her mouth dropped. “Wait, did I actually say that?”

“Yes, you did.” My eyes smoldered immediately.

As if she was burned, she speedily stood up from the bed, but I was way ahead of her. I grabbed her left elbow and pulled her back to sit.

“Daniella don’t go!” I shouted, but then sharp pain lanced through my sides where the lacerations were. “Argh!” I doubled-over as a result.

“Erik, stay down!” Daniella chastised. With one knee pressed on the mattress, she raced to put me back against the pillows with her tender hands on my chest and nape respectively. “My God, you’re not a vampire! You don’t heal quickly!”

Her nearness ignited the desire within me then. The pain in my wounds I ignored as the smell of her shampoo and the softness of her skin called to my senses and brought it in a high. My sense of touch — namely my fingers — wanted to take part in it too so I did what I have always wanted to do: touch her.

“Daniella, ” I whispered in her ear once I pulled her close by the waist. She squeaked when I slipped the same hand inside her tee and ran fingers in her spine.

“Erik, ” she breathed, narrowing her eyes at me as if she was slipping out of consciousness.

Mouth just inches away, I whispered, “Let me touch you, Daniella.”

She breathed in my scent with her mouth parted and answered, “You’re injured.”

“Just let me touch you. I want to touch you.” My intentions were clarified when I placed a gentle pressure down her belly, near the button of her jeans.

She gasped when she felt my fingers advancing down without effort.

“Errr-ik...” I smirked when I heard her slurred speech. That was my cue to know that she was indeed blazing inside.

Intending to intensify it more, I lapped on her neck, suck a bit of skin, and twirled my tongue around it. She whimpered in response and pressed herself more to accommodate me.

“Erik, why do you do this to me...?” was her breathy question.

I stopped and pulled back to look at her in the eye. Damn, hers were desirous.

“Because I want you Daniella, and I take pleasure in pleasuring you,” I replied with a serious face.

She bit her bottom lip whilst tracing the seam of my lips with her thumbs. I opened my mouth and took in one thumb to nip it.

“Then touch me...” With eyes closed, she announced. I could see no hint of hesitation in her face at all, only desire — pure, unrestrained desire. “Touch me Erik.”

Obliging to her words, I advanced my fingers further and when it hit the shaved spot, I traced the delicate lips of her virgin rosebud from the front to the back. I acquainted with it. Made a mental picture of it. Claimed it as mine alone, but fuck, she was dripping wet already.

“Mnnnhh!” she moaned and sought my lips at that moment. I groaned when I felt the eagerness of her kiss.

Multitasking myself, I fitted my middle finger in the fissure. Then, a second one followed suit. Then, the third one. She bit my lip in response and then withdrew abruptly and moaned a beautiful one syllable.

What a sensitive woman. I grinned with delight. I alone have the right to see her writhe in pleasure.

I wanted to give her more by kneading her breasts, but since my other hand had a burn wound, I was content instead of giving attention to her womanhood.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to visit you last night,” I stated as I watched her close her eyes in bliss.

“It was...nothing,” she answered.

“No, it isn’t.” I continued to slide my fingers in and out of her wet folds. She acted entranced with it. “You don’t even know how much torment you are giving me Daniella.”

Then I pinched her clitoris. She clamped her legs in reaction and let out another glorious moan.

“Ah, Erik!”

“Let me hear you moan Daniella. More! They are music in my ears!”

I rubbed on the sensitive nub vigorously. She grabbed my neck as if to strangle me but then pressed her forehead against mine.

“Erik, shit! What are you doing to me?!”

“Making you come, my fiery nymph. Making you climax for the first time.”

“Oh my, ah!”

Amidst half kneeling in front of me, she was able to arch her back. She sexily whimpered as her juices river out into three of my fingers. The whole time, I stared at her, taking in the lovely scene that was her first orgasm.

Seconds later, after she rode her euphoric wave, she dropped into me like a pancake, spent and panting; her mouth against my neck tattoo.

“Was it good, Daniella?” Shit, I just had to ask.

“It was...” In ragged breaths, she answered. “It was. Fuck. Superb Erik.”

I proudly smiled after hearing it.

For now, I settled on dragging my hands out of her jeans, making a temporary goodbye. I didn’t trespass her delicious cave yet. It can wait. It was made for my c0ck to pierce, not my fingers.

We kissed again and fucked our mouths, penetrating each other’s palate before I told her, “Lean on me, Daniella.”

“But your wounds.” She cautiously placed her head on my chest.

“Don’t bother them,” I said.

She obliged and leaned more on the unaffected side whilst dragging her legs up into the mattress. I looped one arm on her waist, but goddammit, if it wasn’t for my wounds, I would have embraced her tightly together with the other.

“Daniella, tilt your head more for your master. I want to kiss you,” I ordered once my body demanded more of her taste.

When she raised her head up, I was hell-bent on giving her the best kiss of her life, but then she pulled away and glanced at me in confusion.

“Erik, your—”

“Don’t mind it,” I said when her hand unintentionally traveled below my waist. She must have felt the slight tug of the duvet that’s why she knew my eager member was aching.

“It’s so hard and erect,” she pointed out innocently.

I frowned at her. “Fuck, don’t use obvious words woman.”

“How will you answer to that?” Her eyes stared at the tall bulge.

“It will soften eventually.” I dragged in a heavy breath. Damn, this is tormenting me.

“But not before someone comes in and see that your duvet had housed a cobra.”

She crossed her arms and straightened to look at me.

“A cobra huh?” I smirked at her, but then it disappeared when I saw her shove the duvet down my knees.

“Daniella?” I called out to her, my heart thumping loudly.

“I’m returning the favor, Erik.” To my utter surprise, she straddled on my thigh and placed her gorgeous locks on one side. She bent down after giving me a predatory look and from there, all of my body parts, no matter how injured it was, turned haywire.