Can You Keep It Saintly?

3 “Big, Lengthy, Girthy”

Tatum woke up again at five o’clock in the morning, he did not really get any wink of sleep. He stared at the ceiling again, he was still suffering from his headache, but tried to get up from the bed, he was still naked and as he glanced at the naked woman on his bed, he rolled his eyes while shaking his head at the prostitute he paid to have s*x with just for his release. His trash can was filled with some used condoms from a few hours ago which he put in hot sauce in it after using it, just in case the prostitutes would do something tricky and put his used semen into their v****a intentionally to get pregnant and get money from him through child support. Feeling annoyed with that thought, and seeing the prostitute in his bedroom, even after he told her to leave, made him angrier.

Tatum walked towards her stuff, kicked everything out of his bedroom without wanting to touch it or pick it up so he would not lower his head for a woman like a prostitute, “Wake up!” He hollered angrily as his soft six inches completely asleep hanging between his legs.

Tatum’s self-confidence was undeniable, and one of the reasons for his unwavering was his d**k. His p***s was his glory. His absolute pride. After all, when it was not hard, it was a solid six inches. Still bigger than an average guy’s erected p***s. When Tatum was fully erect, he had a hard veiny c**k which was nine and a half inches. So, you see, aside from his really handsome face, a towering height and muscular body, the glorious v-line that leads tall the way down to the jackpot which was his d**k was something he loved the most. Big, lengthy and girthy. Tatum took pride in his physical attributes and saw his body as a symbol of his self-worth.

Tatum took pride in his large endowment because he saw it as a symbol of masculinity and virility. He felt that his endowment made him sexually attractive to women, after all it was what he only offered to women, rough s*x and more rough s*x, and elevated his status among men, more so it gave him power over women who had always vied for him. Furthermore, he believed that his size was a physical manifestation of his male power and dominance. Therefore, his endowment became a source of pride and ego boost for Tatum.

He approached her and then shook the woman strongly on her shoulder, “Wake up!” He grabbed her by her arm and pulled her up from where she lay down, he shook her more, causing her to fully jolt in awakeness. “I told you to leave after we f****d, didn’t I?” His voice was laced with anger.

The woman blinked at him, scared and confused and guilty all at the same time, “But–”

“What?” He cut her off from what she was saying. “Are you that stupid to not understand English? Get up and get out of my house.” He pulled her out of the bed strongly. “Do not make me say it again, because if I see you anywhere in my house within the next minute, I will have your body chopped and fed to my lions. So, get the f**k out.” It was a command now as his eyes became sterner and more vile.

The prostitute knew that he had told her to leave from last night, but she chose not to since she wanted to sleep in his bedroom and lay next to him knowing that he was powerful, insanely wealthy and enormously hot. At the moment, after he shook her and pulled her strongly, she felt disoriented and confused but right away she remembered staying over instead of leaving. She stumbled onto her feet, her head still fuzzy from sleep and possibly the lingering effects of how he roughly had s*x with her from the previous night.

As Tatum issued his threat, the prostitute’s heart raced with fear and trepidation, since she knew that he was one of the biggest drug lords in Italy right now, even the biggest Italian mafia bosses were his buyers. So she knew well that he was not someone to mess with. Tatum's voice was icy and cold, and his eyes were filled with a viciousness that sent chills down her spine. She quickly stumbled out of the room as she saw her clothes and heels were already outside his bedroom while there were two of his security guards standing outside and not looking at the naked woman. She did not care, she was just desperate to escape Tatum’s wrath.

He walked to his black sweatpants, put it on himself and fixed it before grabbing a black shirt. His mind then shifted to the woman who was drunk earlier and had vomited on his one hundred one thousand and eight hundred fifty dollar suit specially tailored for him. He went out of his bedroom, as the security informed him, “Miss Pamela just left, sir. Crying and trembling. But compensated double like what you have told us.”

“Get me my first aid kit, and my medicine box.” Tatum ordered in his cold and stern voice as he walked towards the bedroom where the anonymous woman who vomited on his suit was sleeping in.

He got in the fancy bedroom and found her sleeping on the bed wearing a new set of very oversized pajamas now after his maids cleaned her and changed her clothes, “Tch, what did you think of my rest house? A safe haven? A free place for a drifter like you?” He muttered angrily under his breath and closed the door behind him.

Tatum’s extra guest bedroom was designed with opulence and grandeur in his mind as he had personally designed it himself. The dark oak floor was covered with a plush black rug, and the walls were dressed in a dark gray fabric that gave the space an air of mystery and at the same time a timeless elegance. Against one wall stood a king-sized four-poster bed, its wrought-iron frame adorned with intricate filigree and topped with a deep black canopy which made the entire bedroom look utterly mysterious. The mattress was made of plush, dark gray velvet, and the pillows were plump and soft as it had expensive feathers in for more comfort.

The room was insanely furnished with expensive furniture, all in coordinating dark tones, the chandelier was beautiful on the ceiling and the curtains were too. The curtains in the guest bedroom were made of heavy, dark gray velvet, and they framed the large window that looked out onto the estate grounds. The fabric used was of a high quality, and the craftsmanship was totally evident in the perfect pleats and meticulously hemmed edges which were all personally handpicked by Tatum himself. The deep hue of the velvet gave the room an added sense of privacy and exclusivity, while still allowing just enough light to come in to illuminate the space. The curtains would sway gently if the breeze blew in from the open window, and it would usually create that luxurious and inviting atmosphere. But right now, all he saw was the anonymous woman on the bed.

Tatum stood watching as the woman peacefully slept. “How could you f*****g sleep so peacefully inside a drug lord’s mansion?” He asked softly, while staring at the woman intently who looked so at peace and snuggled on the comfortable and really soft bed. He could not help but notice how her innocent face contrasted with her earlier annoying behavior. However, there was something else stirring deep within him whenever he would see her face, something he could not quite put his finger on. He found himself replaying the moment they had crossed paths on the hotel staircase, a memory that was still fresh in his mind. The sight of her was captivating in some way, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her presence in this moment.

A knock came from the door and it was the security he spoke to earlier, who was now carrying the first aid kit, and the medicine box that Tatum had asked from him. As soon as Tatum gestured for his security to leave and lock the door, the security scurried out right away. Tatum sat down on the side of the bed and gently tugged at the hem of her pajama pants. His movements were careful and calculated as he raised the fabric just enough to reveal the wounded knee so she would not wake up and she would not know that he cleaned her wound for her. He reached for the first aid kit and pulled out the necessary supplies, starting to gently clean the open wound.

As he worked, there was an intensity in his gaze, and a sense of concentration on his face. He applied the antiseptic with care, and then carefully covered the wound with a clean bandage. Throughout the entire procedure, there was a certain gentleness in his touch, something unfamiliar to him.

He paused as soon as he finished, his eyes just staring at the woman who was innocently sleeping on the bed. He just kept staring at her, and the more he looked at the unknown woman, the more Tatum was confused and perplexed as he found himself carefully tending to the woman’s wounded knee. He should be mad at her, he should chop her body and throw her to the cliff where no one could find her, or perhaps feel her body to his lion. But here he was, staring at her sleeping peacefully.

Tatum has always been known for his cold and heartless nature, yet here he was, showing genuine concern and care towards someone he had just met and who had puked on his expensive suit earlier. As he finished wrapping the wound, he could not help but ponder the reasons behind his actions. Perhaps there was something about this woman that had stirred something within him, a deeper emotion he was not used to feeling.

Whatever it was, it was a mystery even to himself.

“Are you f*****g crazy, Tatum? Yeah… Yeah you are f*****g crazy.” Tatum muttered to himself while chuckling under her breath. He left Tylenol on the bedside dresser for her to drink and a bottle of water that he got from the small fridge inside the bedroom when she wakes up in a few hours.

As soon as he left the bedroom, he handed the first aid kit and the medicine box to his security. “Make sure the woman does not leave the room, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The two security men answered firmly, as if Tatum was a military officer.

Around seven in the morning, Tatum had returned from his morning jog a few minutes ago and had just finished taking a shower as well. He grabbed his white towel and wrapped it around his naked torso while grabbing another towel to wipe his face and to rub it against his wet hair which was now a shade darker. He stood in front of the mirror, his toned body gleaming with dampness. He was clad in a small white towel that hung low on his hips, emphasizing his muscled physique, and that glorious v-line which always seemed like an arrow straight down his large d**k. His hair, now darkened from the water, was pushed back from his face, giving him a rugged look. As he continued to pat his towel against his face, he could not help but admire his reflection in the mirror. He exuded power and strength, and the towel clinging to his body only served to accentuate his masculine appeal.

Then he casually walked out of his bedroom and headed to the second floor’s balcony where he told his staff he wanted to eat. Since Sicily was hot, a bit too humid, and sunnily bright at the moment, in comparison to where he resides in Rochester, he loved basking in the heat of the sun. His table was ready and as he neared it, he grabbed a piece of grape from the fruit bowl until he heard noise from the end of the hallway.

“Let go of me! I need to speak to him! I can not be locked in a room just because he pleases!”

“Miss, please, you are putting both of us in danger if Mr. Tatum would hear and catch you out of your bedroom–”

Tatum turned around and found Atlas, the mysterious woman from last night, standing before him while his security guard was profusely apologizing and explaining. Her hair was disheveled, and she was still wearing the loose pajama set. As Tatum took in the sight of her, her eyes could not help but linger on his appearance. Tatum was clad only in a towel around his torso, while she was fully dressed in comfortable sleepwear. The bulge under the towel drew her gaze as Tatum stood there, his eyes devoid of any emotion, calmly eating a grape.

Atlas could not help but totally feel a bit embarrassed at the sight of Tatum’s bulge and really sculpted and toned abs and chest that was exposed fully for her with another white towel over his head. She glanced back down at the bulge once again, as it was obviously revealed in the towel around his waist. The realization that they were essentially strangers in this situation heightened her discomfort. She averted her gaze, taking a deep breath and forcing her focus back on her previous task.

“You think you can waltz around my house and disobey the orders I gave my security?” Tatum questioned strictly and sternly.

Atlas, despite being innocent looking, was always strong-willed, after everything that she went through in her life, she was always a firm believer of standing for what was right. “You think you can lock me up in that room against my own will?” She crossed her arms together.

He chuckled, as he motioned two fingers to his guard, which meant ‘Come here’. Immediately, the guard held and grabbed Atlas as she was being pulled towards Tatum despite her struggling and wiggling away. Tatum, vile and always merciless, grabbed her face and held her closer to him with a tight grip, “Do you even have a single idea who the f**k I am?”

Tatum’s sinister smirk widened as he continued to hold her face, reveling in her fear and powerlessness. She knew she was in the hands of a ruthless and unapologetic monster. "Do you, huh?"