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Vittoria's Hell	By : Beurretta Category: Misc Books > Het Views: 2136 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Angels & Demons or any of the characters in it. I am not making any money on this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter I
- 1
“Untie her.”
The Hassassin put the knife to Vittoria’s throat. “I will kill her.”
Langdon had no doubt the Hassassin was capable of such an act. He forced a calm into his voice. “I imagine she would welcome it . . . considering the alternative.”
The Hassassin smiled at the insult. “You’re right. She has much to offer. It would be a waste.”
Langdon stepped forward, grasping the rusted bar, and aimed the splintered end directly at the Hassassin. “Let her go.”
The Hassassin seemed for a moment to be considering it. Exhaling, he dropped his shoulders. It was a clear motion of surrender, and yet at the exact instant the Hassassin’s arm seemed to accelerate unexpectedly. There was a blur of dark muscle and a blade suddenly came tearing the air towards Langdon’s chest.
Out of more instinct than reflex, Langdon felt his muscles contract and fold beneath him. His back arched lower in an attempt to evade the blade. But alas, he was not quick enough.
Pain, searing pain, erupted from Langdon chest. He stared in shock at the hilt of the blade protruding from his chest. Again, his legs buckled, but this time for the last time. The Hassassin walked slowly and deliberately towards the prone American, salivating his latest kill and coming conquest. No longer having the strength to wield it, Langdon’s makeshift weapon lay on the floor next to him. The Hassassin picked up the chafed metal bar and brought in down in one swift motion onto Langdon’s head.
“Nooooooooooooo!” screamed Vittoria as she witnessed her new friend’s skull collapse beneath the blow. Two sickening thumps were added for good measure and brought renewed screams from Vittoria. Involuntarily, she convulsed and felt her wrists chafe from her bindings. The deed done, she watched in horror as the Hassassin turned for her.
When she first woke up, the Hassassin had seen fire and burning hate behind Vittoria’s black irises. All he saw now was fear and involuntarily he felt himself stiffen. The two best feelings in life were to kill a man who is trying to kill you and to fuck a strong woman who didn’t want to be fucked.
“Your man lies dead, betrayed by his false god” sneered the Hassassin. “Soon, many other heathens will join him for their sins. In the base of my ancestors you will watch them all be taken by the light!” Licking his lips now, the Arab man smiled the present bound before him. “But first, to repent for you own sins, you will serve me.”
“Never!” shouted Vittoria with what strength she could muster. “Da Dio! You will never break me.”
In her chiseled Italian cheekbones lay an admirable strength and determination. The Hassassin felt excitement coursing through his veins at the thought of conquering such a proud woman. But first, he had to teach her a lesson. With practiced brutality, he brought his hand up and struck it across Vittoria’s beautiful features.
“Owww” Vittoria involuntarily whimpered at the contact. Two more swift and brutal slaps brought her to the edge of consciousness, eliciting positively arousing screams of pain each time. The Hassassin was just beginning.
He reached into his pocket and brought out a switchblade. Vittoria’s beaten and beautiful face betrayed new fear as she saw the weapon unsheathed. Teasingly, the Hassassin pressed ran it against Vittoria’s chest. “I like it when my women struggle” the Hassassin cooned.
Vittoria opened her mouth to reply but her response was muted by another slap to her beautiful face. Less forceful now, the hits served as reminders of her position rather than outright punishments. In a series of swift, practiced movements, the Hassassin shredded her shirt and brassiere to reveal the prize beneath.
Smiling at his handiwork, the Hassassin examined Vittoria’s newly revealed assets. Vittoria’s figure carried a rare combination of athleticism and curvature that would do Aphrodite proud. Her heaving D cup breasts shifted up and down with every breath. Beneath them lay the taut abdomen of a woman who took her yoga seriously. Thank Allah for this prize he thought. He brought his coarse, brown hands to her breasts and squeezed. He had been with whores with fuller bosoms but never did they feel this good. Trained whores never bring the same satisfaction as a conquered woman he thought.
Disgust and hatred shown through Vittoria’s jet black eyes. “The Swiss Guard are coming and will end you” she hissed through clenched teeth.
“I thought you would learn your lesson by now white whore” the Hassassin replied with a sneer. “That’s fine though, I like a little fight in a woman.” He balled up his fist and brought it to Vittoria’s belly eliciting a new groan of agony.
“When my ancestors roamed the coasts looking for women to enslave, Italians were the most sought after. Italian women always offer the most fight at first they said but after a little fucking and punishment, they would become the most submissive whores man a could ask for.”
Bringing his knife down as he taunted her, the Hassassin slit Vittoria’s khaki shorts and pulled them off her. Though she struggled, he could feel that she was no longer as capable of resisting.
“When my ancestors broke a whore, they always proceeded through four positions. The first act of violation must always be from the front. You must look the whore in the eye and see her submission as you violate her.”
Vittoria’s eyes lit up in renewed hatred as she heard the taunt. “Fuck you. I am nobody’s whore” she exclaimed. The Hassassin merely grinned as he removed his belt and dropped his trousers to the floor. As he freed his already stiffened member, he saw with satisfaction Vittoria’s fearful reaction at seeing his member.
“Mio dio” she muttered. The Hassassin must’ve been nearly a foot long and very thick. Vittoria, while not a virgin, had never experienced anything nearly as large.
“Thank Allah for blessing me with this tool and with you” the Hassassin murmured, almost solemn this time. He reached in his pocket for the lube he always brought with him for such conquests and slathered his member with it. Some of his compatriots would ready the woman as well with some fingering but he relished the pain he saw in the first thrust. Lining up his member with Vittoria’s hole, the Hassassin paused for a moment and rested his eyes on Vittoria’s beautiful, teary face.
“Tis to fottendo puttana” the Arab said with relish. With one swift, brutal thrust, the Hassassin penetrated his prey. While the lube helped, he couldn’t get more than half of his member in. Vittoria screamed in anguish at the penetration, convulsing involuntarily. Slowly the Hassassin drew in and out of his conquest, relishing the shuddering he felt from her. She was so warm and so delicate he wanted to sink fully in but he knew for maximal pleasure he had to take his time and avoid breaking her.
“You are mine, puttana” he whispered. Vittoria’s black eyes stared back in pain, despair, horror, and resignation. He knew he was close to breaking her. Slowly, he moved in and out, forcing more of himself in each time. He brought his face in to taste her lips. Drawing on her last reserves of strength, Vittoria tried to bite her tormentor’s lip but was just a little too slow and the Arab pulled back.
“Hahahaha I like the fight left in you little puttana” the Hassassin exclaimed. Another slap and whimper. With one of his strong hands he gripped Vittoria’s cream white throat and squeezed. “Soon you will be begging.” Faster now he fucked her, savoring her tightness around his engorged member. Whimpers were the only sound Vittoria could make now through her constricted throat. Now fully, he buried himself within her. Another groan. The Hassassin paused now and stared at Vittoria’s beautiful visage again.
“My little Italian whore, it is just beginning. In time, all of your kind will be made to serve men like me for your sins. It is Allah’s will.”
Faster and faster now he thrust into her. Vittoria’s breathing became shallower and faster. He could feel her body stiffen beneath him. His hands roamed and found her breasts again. He brought his face down and started sucking on them. Her mind was in pain but he knew her body was starting to respond.
“See puttana, you are a real whore. A little fucking from a stronger man and you start becoming wet.”
“Vaffanculo” was the only curse Vittoria could utter in response. But it rang out hollow into the air. She knew that he had won.
The Hassassin thrust harder and faster. Vittoria’s face grimaced in both pain and pleasure. She tried to remember and utter her prayers but could not focus over the heat of the man. She smelled him too now, dank and musky. Despite the pain, she started feeling herself heating up.
“Enough” the Hassassin said and pulled out. He relishes the sight of Vittoria’s heated face, in despair but also a little confused. “You, my puttana, are too sweet to waste on a quick fuck. No, your torment will be long and satisfying.”
Getting up, he flipped Vittoria onto her belly with little effort. Her slender legs were still tied at the base and her ankles chafed from fighting against the restraints. Her taut heart shaped ass now perched up from the divan it rested on, an invitation for more abuse from the strong Arab. Years of intense yoga had made Vittoria’s bottom as tight and plump as a fitness instructor’s. It would serve her well in her next life. With his knife, the assassin cut off the rest of her clothing and threw it to the wayside. She would not need them again.
Again licking his lips, the Hassassin gave her ass a quick smack. “You would make quite a living as whore” he taunted. “My ancestors decreed that the second position to break a woman is from behind. A whore must always feel her place in the world, which is subservient to and in service of her man.”
Vittoria shuddered again. When would her nightmare end? If God really existed, where was he now in the face of such evil? Vittoria lay in wait, in anticipation of the renewed assault. But there was excitement too, a sign her body was betraying her. “Am I really such a whore that I would be getting off on this” she thought?
The Hassassin hovered over her perfect ass, admiring how it curved towards him. With a sadistic grin, he thought of a truly wicked idea. He rotated the divan so that Vittoria would face Langdon’s departed form. “Puttana, see now the face of your departed friend as I conquer you” he whispered.
Vittoria took one look at Langdon’s slumped form, skull shattered and blood strewing, before bowing her head. Tears came to her eyes and streamed down her face. “Just do it already” she whimpered.
“Gladly, my puttana” said the Hassassin before savagely thrusting into her again. This time, he was not gentle. He gripped her pearly white ass and smacked it repeatedly as he fucked her. Few things are more arousing than a woman’s whimper as you smack her ass. Vittoria’s ragged breathing and crying only fueled him on further. Her ass glistened red from the abuse, which only egged him on.
He brought a free hand up to her hair and pulled her head up to face Langdon. “See now your departed friend, abandoned by his God for his sins. I am your new master, your new God. Submit, submit, submit my little puttana.” Which each phrase, he slam fucked her even harder than before. His thrusts were so forceful that he pushed the divan closer to Langdon with each thrust. The Hassassin’s body had been honed through years of training and even pornstars couldn’t match his stamina and ferocity. He brought all of his power to bear on Vittoria’s poor behind, sadistically savoring how each thrust brought renewed pain from her.
Vittoria was screaming in agony now with each thrust. While the Hassassin had her lubed and wet enough from the earlier assault, the violence of this fucking really shocked her. Her thoughts retreated and all that was left in her mind was a will to endure. She had to survive, even if it meant sacrificing her own sanity.
The Hassassin could feel that he was close now, Vittoria’s tight pussy clenching around his gigantic member. Gripping her shapely head, he pushed it into the divan and ground it into the fabric. With his free hand, he rained down blows on both sides of her ass. “You are mine my puttana” he shouted as he thrust again and again into his new Italian whore.
With a final climatic thrust, he buried himself within her. For a moment he was in heaven. Ropes and ropes of semen flooded Vittoria’s abused pussy. Finally, he pulled out and gave her ass one more appreciative slap. This prize was worth all of his labors so far.
Vittoria had lost track of time when the Hassassin climaxed within her. She felt waves of relief knowing that the assault was over. Slumping into the divan, she felt her ass stinging in protest. She knew she was defeated and there was no fight left in her.
“Clean it” demanded the Hassassin, as he stood over her. He could feel one a woman had given up and knew she would not oppose him now. He brought his cock to her lips and Vittoria opened without hesitation. She licked and sucked the remaining cum off of his member. It was no use fighting him anymore.
The Hassassin let out a hearty laugh at his new whore. Normally, he would go for the ultimate submission here and force her to service him until climax, at which point he would cut her throat. But no, this Italian whore was too fierce, too intoxicating to meet such a fate. She would serve him until he grew tired of her.
Taking a look of contempt at Langdon’s departed form, the Hassassin decided that he would enjoy the fireworks from another room, free of his corpse. Looking down at the recovering Vittoria, he felt his hunger returning. She would pleasure him many times tonight, he had no doubt of that.
Getting out his knife again, he cut free Vittoria’s bonds. She felt the blood slowly returning to her hands and feet. Her face turned again to face her captor, but while there was still hatred there, she knew this was a fight she could no longer win. Her thoughts turned again to the thousands of people in the Vatican, and how they would soon be annihilated. She had failed and she deserved her punishment.
The Hassassin gestured for Vittoria to follow him. Meekly, she got up and walked gingerly toward him. Her backside still stung from the abuse it had just taken. The Arab again felt himself stiffen as the nude Italian woman gingerly walked towards him. In time, she will learn to crawl.
Grabbing her arm, he half-led, half dragged her towards an upstairs room. Vittoria could not help but notice the Illuminati imagery decorating the inside of the castle. Tapestries, sculptures, even the walls were covered with Illuminati triangles and eyes. If only they had been a little quicker, a little smarter, she might saved everything.
Guessing her thoughts, the Hassassin turned and sneered. “You have lost woman, and you now must walk the path of the defeated. In time you may yet rise again, but your only path to salvation now is through me.”
Finally, he reached the room. Near the pinnacle of the castle of the angels was the equivalent of a Medieval penthouse. A huge four postered bed stood in the center, lined with satin sheets and pillows. Tapestries covered the walls, many pornographic in nature, showing white women in various states of submission to brown skinned captors. An array of lit candles illuminated the room and brought an intoxicating scent to it. The room opened outwards towards a massive ivory balcony. In the distance, St. Peter’s Basilica loomed.
Grabbing her shapely form, the Arab threw Vittoria onto the bed. Across the bed stood an ornate wardrobe. On top of it was a bottle of wine and glasses, no doubt prepared for these sordid occasions.
“In less than 30 minutes, your world as you know it will be destroyed” stated the Hassassin as a matter of fact. “Even now, the cardinals and the rest of St. Peter’s Square are being evacuated. The Church has admitted defeat.” Making his way to the wardrobe, he poured two glasses of wine. He held one up to Vittoria on the bed. “Drink now to your new salvation.”
“Vaffanculo!” Vittoria exclaimed, her rage returning. She grabs the glass and throws it at the wall shattering it. “Go to hell.”
Smiling, the Arab takes a swig. “So be it.” He says. “I’m glad your fight is returning.”
He circled the bed now, placing himself between Vittoria and the exit. Like a trapped doe, fear returned to her eyes as she frantically looked for a way out. Settling for the balcony, she made a mad dash towards it. Only a leap of faith will do now.
But again, she is too slow and too late. With ease, the Hassassin bounded the length of the room and tackled Vittoria to the ground. His animalistic urges stirring again, the Hassassin pined Vittoria against the marble floor. “Naughty puttana. You need to learn another lesson.”
He threw her onto the four postered bed and ambled towards her again. Vittoria backed up involuntarily but there is no where to go. With another brutal slap, the Hassassin sends her careening onto the bed. He flips her shapely rear up so it faces him. Over the haunches of her perfect ass, he could see Vatican city looming. Two perfect views.
“When my ancestors trained a disobedient whore, they would not fuck her pussy or her mouth. No, dirty whores deserve to be fucked in their dirty hole. You, my little Italian puttana will be punished for your insolence.”
Vittoria tried to struggle and scamper away from the Hassassin at these words but two quick smacks to her rear send her into renewed submission. He lubes up his fingers then pushes them into her sphincter to prepare her. He has her pinned now, his body weight pushing her into the bed. Even if Vittoria had the energy left, she knew she could not get away.
“A hole for a whore!” exclaimed the Hassassin as he thrusted into Vittoria’s shapely ass. This brought a renewed cry of pain from the Italian scientist. Like the previous time, he wasted little time or energy trying to acclimate her to his size. Instead he directed his efforts at her shapely rear end and abused it further. Free from her restraints, Vittoria struggled and struggled but it is no use against his size and strength. Instead, her fight only compeled him to fuck her harder.
Smack. Whimper. Thrust. Whimper. The brutal fucking continues. Few women could excite him so much that he could fuck them twice in as many hours but this Italian bitch was really quite the capture. The perfect mixture of fight and fear—she was the perfect aphrodisiac. “Watch the horizon my puttana. Only 10 minutes left now for your world’s destruction.”
“Why do this” screamed Vittoria. “Why me!” She was now on the edge of desperation. What little hope she had was fully extinguished.
Relishing her submission, the Hassassin thrust into her faster and harder. “Because you are a sinful whore. Because your Church needs to be taught a lesson. And because you are a beautiful whore and fucking is what you were made for” replied the Hassassin in between thrusts. “Do you want it to stop? Then submit.”
Whimpering, Vittoria endured the brutality for a few more minutes in relative silence. Each hard thrust however elicited more involuntary screams and whimpers from her. By this point, she knew that terror was the man’s aphrodisiac and she was only encouraging him. Finally, almost in a whisper, she said “I submit.”
“You win, I submit.”
“Then show me. Serve me until completion. When my ancestors finished with a whore, her final test was to bring them to completion with her mouth. If she failed, she would be cast aside and given to the mobs. Earn your place puttana.”
He gave another smack to her generous ass before turning her to face him. Her sweat and tear-drenched face is all the more beautiful because of it. Her makeup has run at this point and her black, dead eyes make her even more appealing to him. He reached for his member and positioned it in front of her.
Without hesitation, to save herself further punishment, Vittoria engulfed his member. She had sucked cock before but never like this. She pushed all thoughts away and worked towards a singular purpose—to pleasure her new master. She swirled her tongue on the underside and works herself up and down his length. He’s so large however that she could only get about a third of him in her mouth even while fully extended. Her hands cup his large balls and massaged them.
Although certainly not the most skilled oralist he’s ever had, Vittoria’s newfound enthusiasm pleased the Hassassin. He grabbed a hold of black tresses and worked her up and down his length. Seeing how far he can push her, he put both hands on her head and shoves himself down her throat. Vittoria tried to push back but to avail. After a few moments, the Hassassin let go and Vittoria released him, sputtering for air.
“Yes my puttana, more” he commanded. He delivers another commanding slap. Vittoria engulfed him in response and diligently worked towards his completion. All thoughts of the outside world are gone at this point. Her only thought was to satisfy him. He could feel that he was close now. Despite her mediocre technique, her complete submission enthralled him. There are many whores, but this one is my whore. The Hassassin glanced down at his watch and sees the time ticking. Only 30 seconds before annihilation!
He grabbed hold of Vittoria’s head now and starts fucking her throat like a pussy. In and out he went, relishing in the pain he is undoubtedly causing. Finally, with one satisfying thrust, he slid cock down her throat and unloaded. Rivers of cum flood Vittoria’s stomach. She sputtered and coughed as some of the semen got into the wrong tube.
Off in the distance a white light appeared. In less than a second it’s engulfed the entirely of Vatican city and blotted out the sky. The antimatter trap had deteriorated. A new dawn was here.
Thank Allah was the Hassassin’s only thought as light engulfed the horizon. Live or die, I have found the ultimate pleasure.
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Vittoria's Hell