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Haven City Stories: La Vida Loca (Cyrano x Daleeria)

Bela listened to him lay out how this was all going down. The price point was not a problem; really the only reason she had ever started paying with sex was because she had other shit she liked blowing her money on that she could fuck herself out of. And then Josie... well Bela had found she was good at most things with her mouth in a bind where she had actually not had money on her and she had a few eager dealers that would give up a good amount to get into Josie's mouth. "I usually buy half at a time, plus I have a bunch of rich white friends who usually buy through whoever I'm buying from at parties... Usually I give my guy a heads up a couple days in advance when those are going down," she let him know how her normal arrangements went, simply so he could know that his income didn't end with her. Already she was crossing the room to the desk, where one of her many stashes were. It wasn't her main stash; that was somewhere she'd never let anyone see her pull from. But him knowing about the desk stash just meant he'd know where his money always was when he showed up with that green in his pocket.

The blonde looked down at her body when he claimed his ownership, almost thoughtful for a minute, as if that wasn't the worst tradeoff in the world. She had already recognized that there was something dangerous forming between them, and half of her fucks were so far gone that she was finding some sort of lure in that danger. "Reasonable rules," she seemed almost cocky about that, as if she wasn't going to get her shit wrecked for mouthing off or any of the other normal things she did when her temper flared, a gift from her grandfather that her mother hated. It was why her abuelas had tried so hard to teach her to be a good wife, a good woman; but that wasn't Bela's style. It was kicking and screaming or nothing at all. Chico would learn that soon enough. Maybe he already recognized that?

"Your money's right behind you, Chico," Bela pressed against him as he ran his fingers over her lips, a smirk on her face as she reached behind him into a desk drawer. There were a few notable things in here; three more switch blades that looked barely used, as they were... he had taken her favorite... and a bible. She pulled the bible out and flipped to a page in 2 Samuel, part of the story of Bathsheba and King David that had drawn her attention a while back when she and Josie had been discussion women in the bible. In between the pages were a few $20s, a Benjamin and some two dollar bills. "The money will always be in here, in case you wanna grab it yourself."

She handed him his asked before leaning back against the desk again and looking up slightly at him. "Any other rules, regulations or other bullshit I should know about?" now she propped herself up sitting on the desk, slipping her panties off and tossing them across the room with decent accuracy; nearly hitting the hamper sitting by the closet. After all, that was another rule he had put forward, and she was nothing if not a good girl... sometimes... "Every guy always says that til they see how good I look covered in their cum."
 
There was an almost, romantic, look in his eyes as she plopped herself up on the desk handing him the money that was owed. Halves would be no problem in the future, plus the ambition was now playing through his eyes. A connection out in the Terrace could lead to a lot of good things for him. The dealer's who she had been hooking up with had been small time, moving an ounce or so in a week, and only dealing weed. He wasn't big time yet, but he was dealing more and a lot better stuff than Domingo or any of those other vatos were even close to handling and he was younger than most of them. When she looked at him, she was looking at a prince of the Life. And one day he would wear the crown. There was a lot more to it, a lot of politics and family that she wouldn't have the context to understand yet, but he still held himself so that she could see the shadow of the crown on his brow.

Taking the band he slipped it into hsi pocket, his eyes staying on her and her neckline. Now that business was done it was time for pleasure. His hand moved out of his pocket, quick as a viper, and before she could even blink her favorite switch blade was at her throat and he was pushing his between her legs. There was a smile on his face though, and the evil wasn't in his eyes. No more than it usually was at least. Right now he wasn't hard to the idea of her bleeding out on the floor; he was hard for her and her body. And all of the fucked up things she would let him do to her and vice versa.

"Next Saturday we're gonna take you to go get branded." The way he said it, it was like he was offering her a ring or a collar. But also like he was talking about marking his property. Because it was a little bit of both. " Oh, one more rule: if you make another man cum again I'll kill him." He paused for a moment letting those words sink in, letting her react to it. Then he nodded down to the quarter of weed sitting on her desk.

"We gonna smoke that shit and fuck, or fuck and then smoke that shit?" He asked before dropping the knife, letting it fall into her lap. Returning it to her and trading that knife for ownership of her mind, body and soul.
 
The blonde in front of her let out the smallest gasp of air as the warm blade lightly touched her throat, that fire that had her basically forcing his dick in her mouth at the party lighting. Was it the danger? Was she seeking some sort of thrill no one had yet offered her until this moment. She couldn't deny she had been wet the moment he walked in, but now she pressed her mound against his crotch and exposed her neck a little more to him, a slight show of submission.

"The only reason I ever made another man cum before was because I didn't know about your dick until the party, papi," her voice carried a promise that she'd abide by his rules-for the moment. After all who knew when Chico would get bored?

Her hand grazed the weed but her focus was on him and what was in his pants; if he hadn't pulled the knife she might have said smoke first... But as the knife dropped into her lap, she pulled him closer and started trying to get his pants off. "I'd say why not both, but now I just want your dick, why are we still wearing clothes?" she seemed even thirstier than she had at the door.

She was half tempted to see how deep his depravity went and ask him to put that night back to her throat while pounding her right there on the desk in her God-awful pink bedroom she had grown up in. The first guy to do so, actually. She hadn't bother letting dealers in here before, preferring to do a quick fuck on the couch so they'd get the fuck out as soon as they got out. "Branding me, huh? Nice big 'Chico's Puta' somewhere that everyone can see? I bet your already thinking of fucking my ink covered body once you're done marking me up.. ."
 
Lord forgive him but everything he said was turning him on even more than he had previously though possible. For a moment those words, written on her skin, played across his mind on her face, her breasts, her fingers. She really shouldn't be giving him ideas like that. He might just take her up on that idea, ruin her whole life even more than he already was. The paranoid part of his brain told him that she was just saying things she would know her rapist would enjoy in order to avoid him absolutely runing her life. He couldn't understand how someone like her could possibly not just be playing somoene like him. But two could play that game.

His left fist tightened in her hair, taking control of her whole body through her blonde locks as he pressed himself against her mound again. He wanted to tell her what she was really going to be getting. What it was really going to mean. Tell her that she was going to be his personal property, but she was going to be private property belonging to Los Vagos. She would mule for them; dance for them; fuck for them; deal for them; kill for them. She would do every damn thing that she was told to do and then some. And she would do it all with a smile on her face. But that wasn't what she wanted to hear right now. That'd be saved for pillow talk. Speaking of which, he wasn't going to be fucking her on the desk like some chump.

"I'm sure the nuns would love that." He joked, biting her bottom lip as he stood picking her up with him. His free hand went to her ass, grabbing himself a nice handful as he turned and carried her over to the bed. He was going to fuck her on the bed like they were actually something. That way, if she did try to pull some bullshit she wouldn't be able to just replace it and not think about him. Every time she closed her eyes to sleep at night, she was going to remember him. Once they were close enough, he flung her out of his arms and onto the bed, totally forgetting the knife he had put between them which flew with her onto the mattress.

"If you don't get those perky little tits out in five seconds I might just cut them off." He said, though he didn't have his full heart in that bluff at the moment. He was too busy unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it to the floor. He wanted in her and he wanted in her now.
 
Maybe Chico couldn't understand her self-loathing because Bela hadn't learned to acknowledge it yet. Her willingness for this was fueled by too many things for her to ever list to a therapist... not that her mom hadn’t tried a time or two. The first time had been at age twelve when her mom had caught her making out with a boy on their front porch. That one had been easy to lie her way through and the doctor had written her off as just a curious teen girl stifled by religion, nothing out of the ordinary. After that though, Bela had decided that if her parents were going to think she was some form of lost or insane, then she was going to be the delinquent they accused her of being.

The second time had been much more of a severe thing; her first arrest at age fourteen, just for a couple of grams of weed in her back pocket at a party she shouldn’t have gone to but did anyways. Still, the whip had cracked down the moment her father showed up to bail her out; she spent the rest of the semester under house arrest except for school time. And she was sent to another shrink, this one more Catholic based than the first. A few sessions of cruel responses to innocent questions, and a quite acidic tirade about the uselessness of therapists that had made the middle-aged woman cry and her mom had quickly realized that it was a useless endeavor.

The Lopez family was a very specific type of Catholic family, the type that believed women were meant to serve their men while they made the money and did the hard work.

Her grandfather, Samuel Garcia had made a name for himself as one of the first notable Hispanic stockbrokers in NYC, a transplant from Puerto Rico. As a man who wasn’t one to tell stories, she never knew why he had moved to Haven City, just that he had moved there with a woman and gotten hired as a financial advisor to the man that would become her great grandfather. Her grandmother Carlota had been married to one of the big names of the drug game back then… but a love had formed between Carlota and Samuel, one magnetic enough that the husband had disappeared quite suddenly and before long the couple was married… Her great grandfather asked Samuel to change his last name for inheritance reasons, and her grandfather was more than happy to oblige his father-in-law.

The newly named Samuel Lopez, Sr (Carlotta was already pregnant by him at time of marriage, part of the reason for the rushed wedding) quickly started working to legitimize as much as possible, slowly shifting from drug smuggling to other ventures; real estate, one of the first all-Hispanic law firms in the area among two of those ventures. Carlota supported these endeavors, knowing that if she didn’t clear herself of this life that someone would eventually know she had killed her old man just to have Samuel…

For her part, Carlota told a story of actively helping with the drug smuggling as her father downplayed her importance and she was a very good actress at pretending she had no hand in whatever she was being arrested for. Her father was a man who appreciated a good, arranged marriage, and as part of her bid for freedom that she crave from his suffocating grip she had readily agreed to marrying an older gangster that he had deemed worthy. The husband had let her run free, had even given her a certain amount of control over the product she moved. There was no love though between them, and Samuel had swept her off her feet at first meeting; love at first sight. Seven months after all this was initiated, Bela’s father Samuel Lopez, Jr. was born… the timing was awful suspicious to many people, but no one was ever brave enough to call her out.

Enter Evelia Morales, the whitest Latina her father had ever met, moving from Miami shortly after her father’s death in the military. Benedicto Morales was a pilot and had met Arabela in Miami during some down time from the Air Force. After his death, the family (which included Evelia’s older brother Bene at the time) moved to Haven City, where Arabela had a distant cousin that was able to take them in until they got back on their feet emotionally. Tio Bene died at age 16. No one would ever confirm to her, but Bela had always suspected it was gang-related. Evelia had been 14. She had leaned on Samuel’s shoulder during the funeral and history had been made; several months later a marriage certificate was being signed when Evelia had gotten pregnant with Bela’s brother.

This is where the hatred started for Bela, the thing that had her laying in that bed, staring up at Chico like she wanted to be destroyed… what Chico saw as a nice outlet for his sexual needs, Bela saw as a curse… see as a patriarchal line, Samuel had only wanted sons… something Evelia had been unable to provide. Bela had an older brother that hadn’t survived his first week out of the womb. Several miscarriages and three years later, Bela was the one who had stuck much to her father’s chagrin. There was a single picture of him holding her as a baby, a slight look of disdain on his face as he realized that little pink blanket meant he’d not have his heir. And two rough pregnancies had wrecked her mom’s womb, leaving her unable to produce more without severe medical intervention.

Evelia for her part knew that any daughter she bore would be a handful, much like she had been and much like the two matriarchs of the combined family were Carlota still regularly did cocaine and smoked weed and had tattoos indicating old colors that no longer flew under the same banners in the ‘New Age’ as Car-lita always called it. And the woman was pure evil at times, clearly where Bela got her rebel spirit from. Aralita had tried much harder to instill properties of being a good, calm Latina wife… being the backbone of the family and not the driving force… All her cooking skills came from time in the kitchen with the abuela that lived with them until her death. The old woman would be rolling over in her grave to see her only grandchild spread out before Chico like a piece of meat.

What this meant was Bela’s life was dictated by her parents want for her to marry a good, Catholic Latino man and bare at least one or two strong, healthy sons for her father to pass everything down to. And Bela fucking hated it.

And of course, there was still the shadow of red lipstick on some part of her brain that she was trying to deny was still there; she could still feel Josie’s lips on her pussy and how the fuck could she really be that much of a dyke as to miss the thing that had just been her temporary toy?

Of course, Bela recognized Chico probably wouldn’t care about any of that. Why would he care about the how’s and why’s when all he needed to know was, she was fucked up and willing to be even more fucked up with and by him? Bela silenced her brain and told her black heart to take over because this wasn’t a moment for her mind but a moment for her fucked up darkness to show.

Her hand reached for the still sharp knife, eyes never leaving him as she ran it up her body, trailing the dull edge upwards from her bare stomach to the fabric hiding her chest from him. The blade ripped through the fabric and it was clear she didn’t care about her clothes; she could buy more later. It was worth it to see the look in his eyes as she tossed the switchblade aside and exposed her tits to him, simultaneously spreading her legs wide with that skirt hiking up around her hips. “How am I gunna feed our kids if you cut my tits off, papi?” she had no clue how accurate her assessment of being his future baby mama was going to be even as she smirked at him and her fingers spread her lower lips to expose even further what she knew he wanted most.
 
Chico did not have a single solitary fuck to give about all of her family drama, history, and trauma. It just was not in it to care about any of that stuff, in the moment or in general. Sure, he knew the Reyes family history going back just as long, but that was entirely different in his mind. His family's history wasn't a source of trauma, or damage, or any bullshit that you would go and cry to a therapist about. It was pride, heritage and history. They were Reyes. They were kings. And as he toosed his button up to the floor and then dropped his pants and boxers in one quick move, all he really cared about was that she was wet, tight, and very soon her feet were either going to be above his head or above hers. Any doubts he might have about giving her back that knife disappeared as he watched her cut her expensive clothes off on a whim and toss it away.

When he stepped out of his boxers and pants he was already as hard as he could be. Seven inches of red hot Chicano meat ready to wreck her with the confidence of a man who wanted to pretend he had the biggest cock on the walk even though he knew he didn't. He hadn't shaved his balls since the last time they'd been together so there was a bit of fuzz growing on them, but not too much. His cock twitched though when she said those words to him. He knew that she was just saying what she knew he wanted to hear, but she had hit the nail on the head perfectly. He was her papi, she was his puta, his property, and if she was gonna be his first baby mama then that would be perfect. She was white, rich, hot, tight, crazy. Everything he was looking for in the perfect status symbol, and something about the smug look on her father's face in those pictures made him want to ruin that man's life.

"Oh, you think if you're a good little putana I won't hurt you again?" He challenged her as he ran the tips of his left middle and ring finger over her soaking slit, pressing hard against her clit before sliding them back down and forcing them inside of her body to feel exactly how tight and wet she was. Hooking his fingers on her g-spot he took control of her whole body for a moment, watching her move like a puppet on his fingers before he pulled them out and brought his creamy fingertips to her lips. Pressinger forward he brought his head to her entrance as he lifted her thighs up higher, seeing her flexible his new little bitch could be.

"Here you go dyke, your favorite treat." He taunted her, running her sex over her lips challenging her to either lick him clean and admit it, or refuse to do it and try to resist him. All while the head of his cock was spreading her lower lips.
 
God damn is he fine. It was the only thing Bela could think in that moment. Yeah, he had taken her virginity over a week before, but this was something far different; that first fuck had been a fun little game. This was the fuck to make sure she knew who she belonged to, even if she refused to recognize it. Watching his cock throb for her made her want him even more as he approached her. Whatever this twisted, fucked up thing between them was, she knew it wouldn't last long. Probably nothing more than a summer fling, as far as she was concerned at this point. A good fuck, some decent summer business right in the middle of prime party season, and once that was over he'd lose her number or find some other hot bitch he had easier access to.

The blonde Latina didn't bother saying the words 'maybe I want you to hurt me?' because what was the fucking point of talking once his fingers shoved inside of her, immediately hooked to her gspot and caused an explosive moan out of her. That pale, skinny body writhed on the bed before him, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as her hips tried to follow his hand as he pulled away. Besides, he didn't need further reason to suspect she was more unhinged than she really was. She just... Liked the thought of being defiled, of going against everything her father wanted of her. It was a thrill and Chico was fascinating.

Bela smirked, her lips capturing his fingers and sucking. "I tasted better on your cock," came her teasing reply as she licked them clean, reminding him that she had willingly begged to clean his cock off at the party. Proving just how much of a dirty slut she could be again and again. It was worth it just to see his face flood with the simultaneous lust and violence she was so attracted to in him.

As he sunk into her her hips lifted to meet him, moaning in appreciation as he buried himself into her. "Fuck, that's better than I remember... You going to wreck me, papi? Maybe next time you can cover me in cum on my parents bed..."
 
That little movement of her body as her hips tried to follow his fingers out of, that was the real reason he had biked all the way up here. More than the money, or the drugs or anything else, it was simply the way her body moved and reacted like it knew it was made to be used and abused by a man like him. He loved it, actually loved it, and if he allowed himself any introspection he would have caught feelings for it. But he wouldn't allow him that kind of introspection, not for a long time, because to do that would destroy part of him in order to build something else up. Something else he wasn't ready to be yet. Her words matched her movement and had him going crazy in an instant. She knew just what to say to get him obsessed with her, to get him wanting to fuck her again and again.

Before she could even finish the word 'bed' his hands were on her thighs and he was moving her, twisitng her so that she was flat on her back and her legs were in the air beside his head. He had seen a chick get bent like this in a porno, and what he really wanted to do was bend her in half so that her painted her toes above her own head, but he wasn't ready to test her flexibility just yet. He was too busy checking out the flexibility of her guts as his balls slapped against her ass. His elbows locked against her knees, her knees pressed against her breasts as he thrust in and out of her, grunting like a boar with each of his thrusts as her bed rocked beneath them. His dark eyes looked into hers, his face twisted into a mix of pleasure and cruelty as he felt her body stretching around him as he watched her reaction to this new position.

"Quién es papi's putita? He asked the white girl in his bastardized American Spanish. Unlike some people, maybe even most people in La Libertad, Spanish was not his first language, but his second. Though his judgement of 'bela was that she had learned her Spanish in the classroom more than anywhere else. He wanted her, he wanted to own her, and he would have her for the rest of her life. Or his if La Vida Loca took him young.
 
Blonde hair scattered over the bad as she threw her head back and moaned loudly. Being bent like this was intoxicating, just like everything else so far about him had been. The craving for danger had only increased as she felt the pact between them sealed the moment he started making her entire body shift and move. The bed was so new it barely creaked as he pounded her.

"Fuck yes! Papi! Soy papi's putita," Bela's tone mocked his bastardized Spanish. Her grandmother had been living with them by the time she was old enough to talk and learn Spanish... So abuela had insisted she spoke Spanish at home and whatever she wanted outside of the home. This instilled a balance of Spanish and English at home in the blonde that was getting her pussy pounded like a whore while her parents were away. Abuela had taught her well.

"¿Vas a correrte dentro de mí? My feet above my head is the best way to make sure it all stays inside of me..." Bela whispered teasingly, eyes never leaving his as she thought of the fact she could drown in those eyes until her dying breath and never get sick of them.
 
Chico's eyes met her and for a moment he thought about smacking her in the mouth for the way that she had mocked his Spanish. It was hard to focus on all the grammar and shit when she was doing her best to drain his soul out of his cock for a second time. he was in her balls deep, taking her at an angle he had never gotten to experience with another slut before, and that she had obviously never gotten to experience either. That was all he could focus on as his fingers gripped the bed sheets, trying to get as much traction as possible so that he could dick her down as hard as posible. He wanted there to be tears of pleasure and pain in her eyes and he wanted to watch her limping once he was done with her. When he was done with a girl, he wanted the whole world to know that she was a slut.

"Fuck yeah I'm gonan cum in you puta. Gonna make you into a mami for real mami." Chico growled, looking into her eyes and biting his lip, relishing in every little bit of emotion that played across her face at his words. The way he said it, neither of them could be sure he was serious or not. Of course he was going to nut deep inside of her, it was what she was for, and he had already made his position on birth control perfectly clear. But there was a difference between two teenagers being incredibly stupid, and him bragging about and getting off on the idea of breeding her. If it wasn't clear already, he absolutely wanted to ruin her life.

"Come on puta I'm doing all the work here, make some noise, let me hear what that dirty little mouth has to say. Fuck, I wanna hear the neighbors bitching when I'm done with you because I'm too good at what I do." He said with that perfect arrogance of his as his balls smacked against her ass. Of course, the whole reason he was here right now was because all the neighbors were probably busy at work or afternoon brunches.
 
Bela's room was pretty well sound proofed; an addition made to drown out her awful music choices (at least according to her parents) but it worked well for this as well. Even if her parents hadn't been gone, sound was the least of her worries.

"Maybe I have nothing to say cuz you're fucking the breath out of me, ever think of that?" Bela hissed back at him, moaning as he slammed hard into her and starting to arch her back against him. "Fuck right there, papi. Keep hitting that spot!"

Bela couldn't tell if he was serious about fucking a baby into her or not at this point, and had she been clear minded maybe she would have questioned what she assumed was sort of a bullshit joke between them. However, one was never clear minded when a man's balls were slapping against your ass while your pussy was being deep dicked only for the second time ever. No, Bela was focused on the growing tension of pent up pleasure in her very coil. "That's right, fuck me like you hate me, papi. Cum inside your puta!!"

Her hands gripped her legs, nails digging into flesh as she screamed his name, her entire body tensing and shaking as she came for him, tight cunt spasming and tightening around him whether he came or not. Bela could cum from ass play easily enough, but the sensation of having something for her pussy to grip upped the ante. The thought of him pouring his seed into her didn't hurt either. That was something she didn't dwell long on as her head fell back and she lost sense of self for a minute, trying to draw his very essence out of him and make it hers without realize what affect she'd grow to have on him.
 
Fucking her like he hated her came far to easy for Chico. Once he had that spot zeroed in he threw full body weight at that spot until her eyes were rolling and her voice was hoarse from how much Chico was making her scream. The bed was shaking beneath them as he pressed his arms into the mattress, and he wished he could hear the bed frame snapping beneath them. Damn rich people, buying actual functioning material that doesn't break under the weight of two particularly horny teenagers. His annoyance about that disappeared along with every other shot as he felt her body shaking as she came, that pussy getting even more grip and pulling him deep inside of her.

It was like night and day. One moment he was there, in full control and going full force into her like the puta she was. The next he was gasping for breath his pupils dialted as he looked down into her eyes his balls completely drained deep into her waiting womb. Every time they really got going it was like she found a way to drain him of cum, soul and power until his full body seemed drained of everything and ready to collapse.

And collapse he did, pushing her knees even higher up against her chest as he leaned against the bed, looking down at her with their bodies sticking together from all of the sweat. AFter what may have been an enternity he chuckled and struggled to withdraw himself despite her resistance. "Can I have my cock back now mami ?" He chuckled, almost a normal guy for a moment.
 
Bela let out a breathy laugh. "Just making sure to get every drop, papi!" she teased back as if this wasn't one of the most fucked up... Shit was there even a word for what they were doing right now? She wasn't hood enough to know if there was, but he wasn't here fertilizing her eggs because she was hood.

Her pussy wasn't thrilled about letting him go, but she willed it to mostly out of the want for a post sex blunt. When he finally collapsed next to her, she slowly rose, shaking her ass as she dripped whatever excess seed her womb hadn't already absorbed and walked back over to the desk.

"My parents are going away next month for a whole weekend... Was thinking of throwing a pool party. I have blackmail on both the neighbors on either side of us so cops won't get called as long as no one breaks shit. Usually it's just a bunch of rich kids..." she didn't openly offer an invite to him, because obviously her telling him was part of the business section of their little agreement. It was just assumed he'd be there if she told him when and where. When she turned around she had a fat blunt in her hand and a lighter and without a lick of shame she walked over to the window and threw it open so at least it'd air out while they chilled.

Her little trip ended back in the bed, placing the blunt between his lips and bringing the lighter up to light it for him. "I haven't even shown you the back yard yet. Pool, jacuzzi and my dad and the money to make it look like a fucking tropical oasis back there..." Bela didn't sound disappointed. The pool was her favorite part of all the recent work her dad had done to the house, and not just because it gave her an excuse to skinny dip whenever they weren't around. It was a nice looking space, functional and frankly easy to clean up even after a rager.
 
Once he was finally released from her velveteen clutches he used the last of his energy to lift himself onto her bed and collapse on the soft covers. It was by far the most comfortable bed he had ever slept in and he was amazed that they even made beds this comfortable. Another one of those rich perks that she grew up with that he never would have had the opportunity to take advantage of unless he went Tony Montana on his drug trade. It was a thought he had considered though, from his birth until his father went to prison he was the de facto heir apparent to the Los Vagos empire. Back then they had run the entire southside of Haven City and were pushing for more turf from the Nords, the NLG and the 91'er's. Things had changed when the Regulators got into the War and fucked everything up. They ahd taken half of their turf and he was convinced had set his father up to be sent to Denne. He couldn't prove that last part, just like he couldn't prove that they'd had any involvement with his father getting beaten into a comatose state, but he believed it to be true and had a target near his same age to keep his anger focused on. When she mentioned the idea of having a party his ears perked up with all the potential there was for that.

"Orale me and mis amigos will make sure to pull up." He knew that she had likely been planning just to have him show up and be dealing, but he figured that her reaction to him deciding to take more than what he offered was a great way to test her reaction to how she would be treated once she was branded on Saturday. There would be times where he would expect her to hold his gun, his knife, his drugs and more and expect her to react and accept instantly. After saying those words though he returned to stretching out, defiling her bed with even more sweat as he tried to draw all of himself back into shape. It took more effort than he thought but the sight of her coming his way with a fat blunt and lighting it for him was rejuvenating.

"I've gotta have some of my people teach you how to roll." He told her with a a shit eating grin on his face. Of course he was going to shit talk her rolling skilsl even if they were immaculate. The less pride she had the easier it was going to be to make her a proper puta. Sitting up slightly he looked over at her and passed her the blunt. "So here's how it's gonna work Saturday." He told her before giving her the address and the time that she needed to be at the tattoo shop. "And make sure to roll up wearing something slutty as fuck. Like I want my people to see all I got. Orale?"
 
Even if Bela noted his comment about bringing friends, she certainly didn't even let a flicker of it on her face, keeping a coy smirk on those pretty little lips of hers as she crawled next to him, lit that blunt and situated herself laying on her side with her head propped up with her hand. She moved some of her blonde hair out of her face and let her eyes really take him in laying her on her bed with a blunt in his mouth. It was... almost picturesque in a way, that smoke rolling out his mouth over his sweat covered body while they both tried to collect their souls back into their bodies. If they were a couple, if there was any emotion between them, she might have reached out and ran her hand down his face and chest affectionately, scooted a little closer and plucked the blunt out of his mouth romantically... but the reality was Chico wasn't here to romance her, and the chica blanca was well aware of this. He was here out of some twisted sense of possession, the business opportunity that came with a rich girl like her, and the need to get his dick wet in a nice, tight cunt.

Arabela Lopez, for the first time in her life didn't know exactly where she stood with someone and it was fucking exhilarating.

That temporary romanticizing of their fucked up agreement was cut short by his stupid ass mouth. "Fuck you my rolling skills are on point, and I'm pretty sure it was one of your boys who taught me how to roll while popping my anal cherry," Bela glared at his insult, but she was far too prideful to ever let a dig that small wound her ego. And she only aimed to kill when she was throwing shade back, Catholic school girls could be a very stabby bunch without ever pulling a knife. There was no real thought or malice behind her tone or the way she presented her sentence... just a quick clap back from an annoyed Latina puta that hadn't learned how to keep her mouth shut.
 
Any other puta who clapped back at him like that would've gotten a hand across her mouth. Or her ass if she was lucky. For a moment his free hand twitched, tempted to let his fingers fly and watch her pretty white skin turn brown. A few things stopped him though, none of them worth mentioning. The moment passed and the muscles tensing in his hand relaxed. Maybe it was the weed, soaking into his lungs as he opened his mouth and blew rings out towards her before passing the joint her way. His shit was the good shit and he could already feel that nice body high setting in. LV had people growing their shit in the hills and woods where no one bothered looking, not in basements and warehouses like the Regulators had to deal with. Of course the real money maker was cocaine for LV and heroin for the Regs.

"Better be careful talking like that, chica. Next cabron who slips his pene in that back door might find out what 'an ass to kill for' really means." Chico joked as he reached back and gave her ass a firm squeeze, making some come leak onto her thighs as he pulled her close together so that they were almost chest to chest lying there in her bed. If they were any other people it would be romantic, and maybe in some twisted way it could be read as that. Chico wasn't much of a reader though, barely spending enough time in school to get his hands on a book anyway. He did like music though, and when he had time he would catch a movie or tv show. He had heard about people fooling around in movie theaters. Maybe he would take her to one just to see how true that was.

"You think you're worth killing for puta? " Chico asked her in a mocking, almost childish way as he ran his fingers over her chin where the little bruise from earlier rested its shadow.
 
That was a great question.

Was Bela egotistical enough to think she was worth killing for? Well, no, not really. That was only because at this point in her life there weren't many things worth killing for; certainly not dick or pussy... in a year's time she'd be singing a different tune, and even then it was only because of the dick she had just been fertilized by... See Bela would definitely kill someone if given a chance, there was no doubt about that, even if she hadn't realized that level of violence in herself. Chico would draw that out of her with every fucked up thing they did.

But was there any world where she envisioned this cock asshole murdering anyone for her? No. Definitely not. She didn't need to know about the bloody demon that seemed engrained in the Reyes bloodline, or the violence that he craved at this point; all she needed to know was his dick. That's what she was here for after all.

"Hopefully no one's stupid enough to try to find out, huh? Plus, we both know you won't be killing for me, you'll be just slitting my throat and watching me bleed out while you violate my corpse!" as she spoke, the smoke she had just inhaled puffed out of her mouth with every word with an honest sentiment that she instinctually knew. Bela pressed herself against him with a smirk and the devil laying in wait in her eyes.
 
Chico felt his cock twitch. This girl was on crazy bitch, and he owned her now. Mind, body, spirit.

Before meeting him this girl had a future, probably a potential for getting a good job and marrying some rich ass man cosplaying as a Latino. Pumping baby after baby into her and making her the perfect little unhappy house wife. That future of hers was gone now. He had raped it and murdered it. And the power that gave him, the power he had taken from her, was throbbing between his legs. He was going to ruin her in every sense of the word, and more than likely discard her when he grew bored with her and found some better pussy. At his age he couldn't comprehend the idea that she was the best pussy that he was ever going to get. Not because she was the fittest or wettest or kinkiest, but because her crazy mixed with his crazy like a house on fire. Maybe he was misunderstanding that expression but it wasn't as if most of his focus was on literature at the moment.

"You're going to look so good branded putita Ima love showing you off Saturday, orale. " Chico said, almost romantically as he ran his fingers over her dick sucking lips and took the joint from her again. This was the closest they could get to romantic cuddles. Smoking weed and him talking to her as if she were a piece of property, live stock to be branded and showed off. Which was exactly what she was to him, along with being a pretty damn good place to dump off his kids when his balls needed emptying. And there was no hiding what he thought about her; or that everything he had done to her was his fucked up way of developing a sense of love for another person.
 
Bela should have known from that night on that her life was never going to be the same. There was a power drawing her to Chico that she couldn't quantify or explain, and frankly she didn't really feel the need to. Maybe a little piece of her just didn't know how to live her life without someone controlling her, and that all she had been seeking was a different form of control from what her parents tried to exert over her. However, Arabela was a dumb bitch some times, as Chico would later attest to his friends.

Now Bela wouldn't have known healthy love from another person if it had dick smacked her in the face. Not that she thought Chico loved her or anything. And she certainly thing she had any real love for him. It was just fun. Someone she could sort of sexy shit talk to and have him feed all her deprived needs.

After that day, everything else seemed gray and boring whenever she wasn't text back and forth with Chico. All her normal indulgences just seemed to pale in comparison. Even her parents screaming at each other from the living room didn't affect her in the slightest bit, she just texted Chico a nude and got off on the thought of him actually showing it off to his friends like he said he did. Instead half of her thoughts were filled with Chico, and the other half with her social standing amongst her friends. Bragging that she knew some *real* connections to get all her friends to make their appearances at her pool party in a couple of weeks. She had made it a mission to prove to Chico that this 'business arrangement' of theirs was worth his time, at least for the summer. The only kickback she wanted was more of that dick.

Saturday took too long to arrive. Bela was very impatient by the time her alarm went off at 8 a.m. that morning and she jumped out of bed to shower. Her father had left the night before for a business conference, and her mother was busy doing wine and pedicures with her gossip circle. That meant she had the house to herself and she took full advantage of it blaring her Spanish hip-hop while she dressed herself.

Even if they hadn't discussed it, he had told her to dress 'appropriately' and she was certain that meant like a slut. He had also reminded her not to wear panties around him in a few texts the night before. Bela, naturally, was happy to oblige that request. So she grabbed herself an orange crop top that showed off her full assets to the best of its ability. No bra, no panties underneath, she paired that with a black mini skirt and a pair of black heels she had barely been able to wear yet. Looking herself over in the mirror she was pretty pleased with the results. A few adjustments were made; her skirt was tugged down a little lower to expose her lower back better and it looked better hanging low on her hips like this and didn't make the length look any less slutty. Chico had traced over the area that evening together, proclaiming he particularly wanted the brand right there.

She had gone out of her way to figure out what colors Chico flew and to dress accordingly. Whether or not he realized it was intentional didn't matter as long as he was as pleased as she was by the outfit. Bela even did the stupid twirling thing to make sure that if she danced or anything her ass would tease and peak out. She wanted everyone to know that she was going commando.

It wasn't hard for her to get a ride from one of her school friend's older stoner brothers wandering to one of the less savory parts of town. After all, it's where most of their classmates got rides because it was easy cash and weed for the brother. And he was too high to care to ask questions, blasting his Bob Marley and dressed like a hippie from the 60's. Getting dropped off in front of a tattoo shop, Bela felt the slightest bit of nerves mix with her excitement. If her parents could see her right now she'd be getting sent of a convent. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if that's exactly what her mom did when she finally would find out about the ink she wasn't supposed to have. "Thanks for the ride, dude," she gave him a fist bump and she looked around for the guy that was about to brand her.
 
Tito's Tattoo Parlor was the premier tattoo shop of choice for Los Vagos when it came to turning their bodies into art and branding their property. It was a little brown shop on a street a few blocks from Ranchero Street. The street was a mix of boarded up or dirty looking store fronts, all with bars on the windows and riot gates ready to be pulled in place at night, and houses that looked like they were just waiting to be bought up by white liberals and gentrified into six-figure homes completely unaffordable to the people who typically lived here. Standing on the corner were several men in orange and black clothes, flying their colors as they dealt crack to fiends who shuffled by. Tito himself was a bit of a fiend, but he kept his habit under control most of the time. His bitch, Suerte, was manning the front counter and the register, wearing jean shorts and a crop top showing off all of her brands when Bela's ride rolled up.

Chico was waiting outside of the shop with Gordo when Bela's ride rolled up. Instantly Chico could feel the anger rising up inside of him at the sight of Bela getting lifts from other guys, and he made a quick note of the license plate number of her 'friend' before he drove away. It was a little difficult with Bela standing in front of him looking like a proper slut. He was more than tempted to take her into the alley and fuck her up against the wall before getting her properly branded. But he managed to resist the urge, coming forward and greating her with a hug, grabbing her ass under the skirt while his other hand was tight on her throat, making sure her breath didn't smell like cock.

"Gordo, this is my new puta 'bela. 'bela this is Gordo, my day one hermano." Chico nodded towards his fat friend. On first glance Gordo looked like he would be the worst gangbanger possible, not able to agiley duck and weave behind cover during a gun fight, can't run from the cops when they want to bust some heads or ruin a vatos day for a humble, easy to make out at a distance and in general looking more like a fat linebacker than a gangbanger. But apperances could be deceptive. Gordo moved a lot smoother than he initially looked, and when it came down to it he knew how to lay down the hurt as well as anyone. Though for the most part, he seemed much gentler than Chico.

Once Chico had finished making sure 'bela had his obeyed his order about panties he gave her a little push towards the door and Gordo. Both boys were wearing khakis and orange button ups, though Gordo's was mostly unbuttoned and looked more Hawaiian than Chico's solid orange button up that was left not tucked in. The lack of tuck hid the pistol he had tucked in behind his back. Even going to a party or moving through their own turf it paid to come strapped.

"Nice to meet you 'bela. I hear you've been treating my bro right?" Gordo said, before giving her a bear hug as a greeting.
 
The moment his fist closed around her pretty, pale throat she got that same sensation as she had nearly a week ago; Chico Reyes would be the death of her. Whether he put the gun to her head and blew her brains out himself, or his bullshit life put her in the way of someone else's violence, one way or another she'd die because of him. And she was willing to bet a good bit of money that he would kill her himself before he'd let her die by another's hand. He seemed possessive enough to deem that an important distinction. Already she could hear the whispers of her grandmothers praying for her mortal soul and the darkness she kept inside of it. Arabela Lopez had never been seeking redemption though. At some point in her life she realized she was always heading towards a life of debauchery, and Chico seemed more than willing to provide that for her. So why not go with a sure thing? Especially with him standing there looking ever bit of a Latina thot's wet dream. She was even a bit proud she had shown up in his colors. Why was there pride associated with this situation at all?

Instead of questioning it, she pressed her body up against Chico's and whispered in his ear: "Don't worry, papi, I never make the same mistake twice, except for when you want me to." As in the only mistake she'd make more than once was clearly fucking him or anything he requested of her.

Bela hadn't done any self-reflection during this week. No questioning of her own motivations, wondering if this was a good decision or prayer to her God to provide her with any sort of clarity... After all, she was always told that gay people were sinners, and she had to admit she had done some very gay things with her Josie-cat. That meant she was going to Hell, and as far as her family was concerned there was no redemption for people 'like that'. So why seek penitence? Why try to please a God that didn't give a shit about her prayers because she had already committed ultimate sins?

Now Bela had met a few of Chico's 'boys', ones that were previous dealers that she no longer had to deal with, but with as little as she knew about gang life she did know that any 'day one' guy hanging around was a bit of a big deal. Those were the ride-or-dies, the people that had been with Chico the longest, and the fact she was meeting one of his hermanos sunk in the fact that this might end up being more than just a summer thing. That Chico was really considering her proper property, not just spinning the ghetto dream for the blonde rich girl. "Nice to meet you, Gordo. Hell of a hug there... hate to see what you could do with a handshake..." she chuckled a bit, a bit of nervousness sliding up into her voice as she shuffled back over to Chico and pressed herself back up against him like a good slut. "I'm ready papi..."
 
Chico had never heard the word 'sociology' before and he for damn sure had never heard of something called 'strain theory' where a societies pressures on the individual could change the way that they respond to their own goals and ideals, or how one could reject their culture in favor of another adjacent culture that helped them meet certain needs that they had prioritized over the needs that society had put on them. He also had no concept of 'misogyny' meaning anything but 'how you were supposed to treat women who weren't your mama or your family' and he certainly had no idea of something like 'internalized misogyny' and how that could effect the way she was acting. The only thing 'internal' he was worried about when it came to her was what it felt like when he was inside of any of her holes.

So her pressing up against him and acting like a good little puta was exactly what he expected of her. Going through the trouble of putting a personal brand on her, from this day forward he was marking her as his personal pirvate property. To do with whatever he pleased. Pimp her out. Pump her full of crack. Make her his baby mama and put a ring on her finger. Whatever he wanted to do with her, she's was his to do with until the end of time. Which seemed like exactly what she wanted from him. So he walked her into the tattoo parlor showing her off like she was a piece of property.

Suerte barely looked up from what she was doing at the register, filling out a crossword or doodling in the margins or something like that. But one glance was all she needed in order to inform Tito of what kind of business he was about to get to doing. Giving 'bela the full once over in that brief glance and knowing everything she needeed to know about her in that instant.

"Tito baby, Chico's brought his gringa to get branded. Looks like a dime-piece at least." Casual about it all, knowing where she stood on the hierarchy of the Life in comparison to a new bitch about to get branded. Especially a bitch who looked like she had a credit score as high as Bela's was.

"Orale, baby I'm gonna be right here, let's get this done. Gonna be a party later I wanna take you too." He didn't offer her anything for the pain, even though he had some cocaine in his pocket that he could've given her. Wanting to save that all for the party. Tito came up to lead her back to the bench to get the ink done and Chico sat down in the chair to watch the work. Knowing Tito was gonna get up close and personal with his girl's uncovered snatch. Gordo for his part, posted up just in front of the store with a piece hidden under his shirt. Even in peaceful times it paid to be vigilant.
 
Bela didn't know much about getting tattoos at this point, but she would become quite well acquainted with Tito and his bitch in the future. Before the end of her life she'd have Chico's name on her pale skin a bare minimum of four times, not to count the ink she would get for her kids and for her gang. There wasn't a clue on the horizon just how wet the buzz of a tattoo gun would make her, nor how much she'd need his dick after each and every one that she got.

Then again, unless they had been born into this life, not very many bitches were aware that you didn't just stop at one brand. All it took was one brand and before you knew it your torso was covered in his name and colors. For now Bela simply rolled her eyes a little at Suerte's comment about her being a dime-bag and looked up at Chico with a smirk. He'd determine that in time now, wouldn't he? He had asked her here, and she wasn't going to question the invitation

Chico had chose the design beforehand, showing Tito the placement where he wanted it before sitting down out of the light while Bela lay down on the table nearly half naked. This didn't bother her at all, nor did Chico maintaining a distance while she was worked on. She figured any artist needed their space. The design itself was beautiful, Chico had good taste in his branding of his white puta. Bela couldn't deny she was going to be laying there for a good minute with the detail involved.

The buzzing of the machine was far more frightening that the inking itself at first. Loud, grating and she was grateful for the fuck ton of weed she had smoked before showing up. She didn't need pain killers once the fade set in and that buzzing turned into white noise and the most pleasant of pains began.

It started with the sting of the line work, a burning from right above the womb Chico was quite loudly proclaiming belonged to him. That burning soon spread across her entire lower stomach, driving her wild even as she managed to stay perfectly still for the duration of the work. With every detail added, she felt that deal sealing in the darkest parts of her heart; a pact that would ensure she spent the rest of her life just trying to improve his. Every flower was just another future baby in her mind's eye, and yes she had considered very much how lovely their children would be. Every antler shaded in was a knife that she would drive into the heart of anyone who threatened her man. And at some point in the process of pain and blood and ink Chico officially became her man. There was no denying she was owned by him, so why couldn't it work a little both ways?

The worst moments were when the buzzing would stop and not even the music playing over head could fill the silence in her soul as she would look down to see what had been done so far; it looked even more striking against her skin than she had imagined she would. The minutes would stretch while Tito would change out his needles for the next thing he was tackling, Bela laying there in silence and making right with her God for the sins she would commit in the name of Francisco Reyes. At least with the buzzing there was something to distract her from the demons in her head whispering: "You are exactly what your father said you are, and the only one you have to blame is yourself."

Nothing compared to the moment where Tito changed out to a bolder shading needle, and what she supposed was probably the most painful part began; thick lines of Los Vagos would decorate her front hip bones with the very powerful image that they accompanied. Idly, Bela looked over at her newly minted owner, wondering what went in on that psychotic, violent brain of his and eye fucking him very casually while the tension in her body built steadily. In another moment there would be no return. Or maybe there was never a return? Did she unknowingly, in the very moment she let him have her body, jump off the cliff into the abyss of his world from which she could never find the exit? At this point in the process, she'd rip her own heart out if it made him smile. You didn't shed blood for someone you weren't prepare to kill and die for.

"Damn Chico, first bitch who hasn't ruined her brand by squirming," Tito made an idle comment, looking down at the work as he finished the final shading on the 'Vagos'. Bela let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as the machine shut off officially and she was left to stare at Chico for some sort of validation.
 

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One time, Chico had gotten high and watched Gladiator with the guys. It was a cool movie, not his usual type, but it had all of the beats a piece needed to have to hold his attention. Blood, fighting, sex, war. All of those things that spoke to his primal nature and his culture. They spoke to the conquistador in his blood, slicing through the jungle with a machete looking for cities of gold and lands to conquer. It also spoke to the Eagle Warrior in his blood, offering sacrifices on the top of altars, or gathering together victims to go to those same altars in Flower Wars. Chico was not an idiot, he was simply what he was, and he had a fascination for Mexican culture because it told him about his ancestors and the power that they wielded. Both the takers and the resistors. He was a Reyes, his people had been kings in the Anahuac and conquerors of one of the largest empires in the world.

There was one scene in particular that spoke to Chico, the scene where Commodus confronted his father, Marcus Aurelius, about the virtues that Marcus had written in some book and how Commodus did not have the ones he listed, but he had other virtues instead. That scene had spoken to Chico because he knew that it was true about him too. He did not have the virtues that his teachers wanted to have, or the virtues that society wanted him to have. He was ambitous, ruthless, cunning, cruel. He was a man who knew what he wanted and knew what he needed to do to take it. Though of his virtues patience was not one of them.

After about fifteen minutes waiting for the ink he started to finish, and after twenty he was playing Five Finger Fillet on the nearest flat surface, stabbing his switchblade into the table careless of the damage he was causing. It wasn't like TIto was going to get pissed at him. Not with the money that he was spending on it. After fifty minutes he alternated between cutting through the air and twirling the blade between his fingers. He was almost to the point where he was going to start throwing his blade at some of the nearest surfaces when finally the artwork was done and Tito had complimented Bela's pain tolerance. Slipping his blade away and putting it back into his pants he stepped towards his girl, running his fingers under her chin in appreciation.

"Orale Tito, do you think I'd pick some weak as pussy for my puta? Fuck no. She's a soldier through and through. Ride or die as fuck see." To demostrate he lifted up her skirt slightly, knowing he was exposing her and ran his hands over her slit to see how soaked she was, before bring his fingers to his lips and licking them clean. Never doubting that she would just boldly let him show her off.
 
Bela found her true love that day; pain. Laying on that table, feeling the buzz and burn on her lower abdomen, that was the closest to God that she had ever felt besides the last time Chico had love bombed her baby maker. Those moments of their bodies colliding was just as physically and spiritually fulfilling as the newest sensation Chico had introduced her to. This is how she would become the woman she needed to be to survive a lifetime, no matter how short it may be, with a Reyes man. Chico could make anything seem worth getting into with just that murder in his eyes. She saw it sometimes, when he would look at her throat as if he were pondering how much prettier it'd be sliced over or covered with rope. With every line Tito drew, Bela could feel her fate being transcribed in the blood she was shedding for Chico. For years after this would serve as a reminder to her dedication to him far more than any ring ever would. It was as good as carving his name all over her soul.

The pain was pleasurable, but what was less pleasurable was the constant noise Chico made in his impatience. Just a moment before the machine shut off she was about to make some smart ass remark that would have gotten her a harsh punishment if she had been allowed. Tito's fast but accurate hand, and probably a small part of his own unspoken, minor annoyance about the constant thunking of the knife on any surface Chico could stab, saved her from that fate though. Bela couldn't help the extra minute of rhythmic twitching her left eye did as she slid off the table, sore but looking pretty damn proud of herself.

Bela smiled as she stepped up to Chico, showing off the still bleeding ink with pride even as she felt him lift her skirt and show her ass off. She was buzzing off of the adrenaline the tattoo had caused, and his fingers would find her the wettest he had ever witnessed. He's soon learn nothing got this particular puta going the way a little bit of violence and/or a lot of pain did. The blonde even moaned into his ear at what she interpreted to be a compliment about her not being a weak ass pussy. In Latina, that was as good as confession of love, or at least some skewed form of commitment for at least a few years until he got tired of putting babies into her.

It was starting to sink in just how real this was, now that the new brand was there on her body and Chico had his fingers in his mouth covered in her juices. Bela even played up the 'dyke' angle he seemed to have attached his misogyny to, opening her mouth for his fingers and then pouting when he licked them off instead. "Aww, papi, now you have to go stick your dick in me instead so I can taste what 'branded whore' tastes like!" she teased, showing off her frisky side as she pressed against him so publicly, unashamed to be owned by him, at least in front of these people. In front of his people. Chico was a hit of a different type of freedom; she had chosen this for herself, had marred herself for her parents plans on marrying her off to some rich white dude for a good name, and best of all she knew it wouldn't be too long before she got to feel Chico showing her what branded putas were made for.
 
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