Someone Elses Daughter

by Jack Norman

  SOMEONE ELSE’S DAUGHTER

  Jack Norman

  © Copyright Jack Norman 2012

  The right of Jack Norman to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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  Chapter One

  Borzov’s Bitch

  I

  “So, you want to work for me here in Moscow,” Viktor Borzov said as he smoothly thrust in and out of Sara’s cunt. “Tell me something about yourself.”

  “What, now, sir?” she gasped, her breasts thrusting upwards as she arched back to get the full depth of his cock inside her.

  “I have a very particular interviewing style. Also, I am a busy man and like to multi-task.”

  They call Viktor Borzov an oligarch... incredibly powerful, and wealthy as fuck. At that moment he was ardently fucking the aspiring young job applicant on his desk amidst a litter of documents and folders. To be fair, Sara Smithson entered fully into the spirit of the occasion, even if it had taken her be surprise. One minute she was being interviewed for the role of Borzov’s Personal Aide, and the next he was cutting away her clothes and caning her arse before spreading her legs wide open across his desktop. Her crisp white shirt and new blue business suit, bought specially for the interview, lay ruined on the floor, as did her underwear. Now, stripped to just her stockings and high-heels, Sara was eagerly wrapping her legs around Borzov’s back and hooking her ankles together for greater purchase as he hammered his cock into her hungry pussy. The cheeks of her arse were red but the pain of the cane had subsided to an agreeably glowing ache.

  Borzov placed his hands under her sore, cherry-red arse and pulled her onto his cock. “Tell me!”

  She gave a small moan, writhing and grinding her hips. “Okay, my name is Sara Smithson, and I’m from Ohio.” She paused and then let out a shriek, “O…M…G!”

  “OMG?”

  “It’s an acronym, like USA,” she panted, her fingernails scrabbling at the jacket on his back.

  It had all happened so quickly for Sara. Straight out of university, she had travelled to Moscow from America with an introduction from her Russian language professor. She eagerly attended Borzov’s penthouse office, bright-eyed and suitably dressed in a sharp new business suit. It had seemed just like any other job interview as she sat primly on the other side of the desk to the suave, Russian businessman...until she had reached over to hand him the letter of introduction. That was when he somehow managed to dislodge a pile of papers from the edge of his desk, and scattered them onto the floor. Sara had immediately dropped to all fours, gathering up the papers. Then she was aware that Viktor Borzov had moved from his seat to stand directly in front of her. She glanced up. They called him Borzov the Boss. She could see why.

  “Are you usually so clumsy, Sara?”

  “No, sir.”

  She was convinced that it hadn’t been her fault but she remained crouched on her knees. When he didn’t move to take the tidied sheaf of papers from her, she reached up to place it on the desktop.

  “Professor Zeldov is a very strict tutor, I believe.”

  Sara blushed, recalling the spankings Zeldov had frequently laid across her bared bottom. She had eagerly anticipated the professor’s tutorials that usually left her arse red and her cunt sodden. “Yes, Professor Zeldov is very strict,” she said.

  “And you enjoyed that?”

  “I- I respond to a firm hand, sir.”

  “Let me see if you are as cooperative as he claims.”

  Viktor reached for a stiletto knife from the desk-tidy. It quickly became apparent that this was no ordinary blunt-edged letter opener, for the razor-sharp blade easily slit though her business jacket and blouse, slicing the fabric from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. She remained crouched on all fours, not daring to breathe as he cut her bra strap, and she exhaled in a low hiss when her breasts hung free. Familiar spirals of warmth began to rise in her belly. The Professor had assured Sara that the Boss would be an eminently suitable employer, but this was beyond her wildest dreams. She thought the Boss might have heard her heart pounding when he leaned over to slice the blade through the waistband of her skirt and slit down the back of the garment, completely renting it asunder. He cut through her panties too, and then set the blade aside and tore the rags from her. When he stood upright, Sara remained kneeling in the litter of her ruined clothes, naked except for her high-healed shoes and black hold-up stockings. She stayed on hands and knees, her breasts pendent beneath her.

  “I understand you are not a virgin.”

  “No, sir,” she said, looking up. There was no point in lying. Sara’s sharp mind told her that Zeldov had made advance arrangements before sending her to Borzov. He would have told Borzov of her submissive wantonness. The professor had always said that, despite her impressive university degree and post graduate diplomas, she needed to serve a strong master. He had judged her well. At that moment, the warm and swirling tide of her sex juices confirmed as much. Borzov nudged her with his polished Gucci shoe and gestured for her to stand.

  Sara stood upright, meekly compliant, even leaning into him when he reached to cup one of her shapely breasts. “You American Ivy League sluts are all the same... no better than whores. You have sucked cocks?”

  She blinked at the crudity but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  He hefted her breast in the palm of his hand, the pad of his thumb teasing her fiercely erect nipple. “You take it up the ass?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Bend over the desk.”

  She obeyed without a word. He pulled her back towards him slightly, his hands grasping her hips, and Sara knew that the moist peach of her sex was vulnerably displayed. The first stripe of his cane took her by surprise and she squealed and squirmed, but she held her position nonetheless. The second blow made her screech too, but then she settled back and her arse took one stripe after the other, with only sharp accompanying yelps. Professor Zeldov had always said how well she took a beating.

  Laying the cane aside, Borzov ordered: “Get on the desk, lie back and spread your legs.”

  Now, ten minutes later, Viktor Borzov was subjecting Sara Smithson to a sound fucking and she was thoroughly enjoying it. OMG. LOL. Who would have thought it?

  “Continue!” the Boss grunted, his hips hammering back and forth. “Tell me something about yourself.”

  Sara struggled for breath and concentration. “I- I am 23 years old and recently graduated from Cornell University with an excellent degree in the Russian language. I also have qualifications in business studies.” She paused to gasp as he used his palms to prize the sore cheeks of her arse apart, the forefinger of each hand pulling at her anus. “Oh God, I thinking I’m going to cum!”

  “If you want the job, you won’t orgasm until I give you permission,” he said, pushing the tips of both fin
gers into her anus.

  Borzov smiled as he looked down on her bucking body, and he pushed his cock up to the hilt, feeling her sodden flesh sucking at him. He would need to send the professor his commission. Sara Smithson was certainly an excellent new acquisition.

  “Please,” Sara groaned, writhing on the desk, the delicate fingers of one hand stroking her clitoris, whilst the other hand caressed her tiny taut nipples. “I can’t hold back much longer, sir.”

  Sara Smithson was pretty, fresh-faced and bright-eyed, with long straight blonde hair. And hot. Her figure was trim, with fine pert tits, and she had good legs accentuated by the sheer stockings. Sara was the kind of bright young woman Borzov liked to employ. The fact that she was American was a bonus. He would enjoy owning her.

  “Now, tell me what you know about my business interests.”

  “Oh my God!” she said again. She inhaled sharply and unclasped and re-crossed her ankles behind his back with a whisper of nylon. “What can I say, sir? The professor told me.... you are incredibly successful in business but nobody really seems to know what you actually do.” She waited, panting, feeling the cock buried in her pussy, and she remained still until Borzov inclined his head slightly, smiling and acknowledging her comment. Then she wriggled her hips, shifting the cock inside her, feeling his fingers pulling her anus wide. “I know that you are the main owner of Energygaz. Due to your business acumen, within a few years your business has expanded from mining in Siberia to diamonds to gas and oil conglomerates, and you also started investing in other businesses... OMG!”

  “My, my,” he said, beginning to slowly ease his cock back and forward again, “I thought I’d covered my tracks better than that. What kind of a job would you like to do in my organisation?”

  “I’ll be happy with any position,” she gasped, her head threshing from one side to the other.

  He began shafting her with hard, long, slow strokes, enjoying his mastery. Eventually, as she was going wild on the desk, he said, “You may cum, Sara Smithson. The job is yours!”

  Sara shrieked as a massive orgasm overwhelmed her. Perhaps it was the bizarre circumstance, surely the strangest ever job interview, or maybe the sheer control of a meg-rich man who expected to be obeyed in all things. Whatever it was, it produced the most shattering orgasm she had ever experienced in her young life, and she writhed and humped on his cock as she lay amidst the scattered papers on the desk in his penthouse office.

  “So, you do still wish to work for me, Sara Smithson?”

  “Yes! Oh yes sir,” she gasped as the throes of her orgasm subsided. “More than ever.”

  “Very well, you will be one of my Bitches and live here for the time being. We will teach you the game. We will control everything that you do: what you eat, what you wear, where you sleep… everything. You understand that?”

  Sara groaned as he began to move his cock back and forth again. This was beyond her wildest dreams! “Oh, yes, sir,” she groaned in a long sigh.

  “A bitch is the lowest of the low in my team.” He jerked his cock hard inside her to emphasise his words. “I have the utmost authority, but then every member has authority over you. You will be fucked regularly, and not just by me. Is that clear?”

  Sara was beginning to writhe again under his continuous shafting of her pussy. “Yes, yes,” she gasped.

  “Tell me you freely submit,” he said, jabbing his finger up her arse as he rammed his cock deeply inside her.

  “Oh God, yes, I submit.”

  Viktor Borzov, the Boss, smiled and began to thrust hard back and firth, fucking her hard until he reached his own climax, and he pulled out of her at the last minute and sprayed her belly with thick cum. Yes, he would enjoy owning the bitch.

  II

  Georgy Nikitin entered Borzov’s office and glanced at Sara as she stood naked in the corner of the office, wrists crossed behind her, one foot in front of the other, her red buttocks to the room.

  “You wanted me, Boss?” Georgy was Borzov’s aide. He was a burly, middle-aged man, with a prominent scar on his face, which might otherwise have been reasonably handsome once upon a time.

  Viktor handed Sara’s passport to him. “This is my new acquisition. Take her to the basement and install her there.”

  “American,” Georgy said, glancing briefly at the passport and raising his eyebrows before looked across at the girl with the bright cherry-red arse.

  “Sara speaks excellent Russian, and she has a business degree from Cornell University. Her mother is Russian and her father comes from the West.”

  “Another Borzov Bitch,” Georgy said with a smile as he grasped Sara’s forearm and guided her to the door. “Welcome.”

  “Just a minute,” Borzov called. “Sara, tidy up these rags on the floor and dispose of them. Georgy will supervise you when I’m not here.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, pulling away from Georgy’s grasp and hastily gathering up the remnants of her clothes.

  She dumped the ruined garments in a waste bin and then Georgy led her from the office. She was conscious of her nudity now. It was evident that Borzov reserved the entire upper floor of the tower block for his own use. However, Georgy took her to the lift and down to the basement, where a middle-aged woman was mopping the polished concrete floor. It was a large, cavernous area and presumably spanned the whole width and depth of the building, with many stout concrete pillars to support the structure. It accommodated numerous containers too, maybe a dozen of them, constructed entirely of grey metal and perhaps 3 meters square. Other parts were enclosed by open wire mesh.

  Georgy took Sara to one of the metal containers and opened its door, pushing her inside. She glanced around. The windowless space was lit by a harsh strip light. The grey metal room was just long enough to accommodate a single bunk to one side of the door, and a lavatory pan, a wash basin and a shower cubicle were arranged in a row on the opposite side. There was no wardrobe, and the only cupboard was beneath the wash basin on the far wall. A length of slender steel chain hung from an eye-bolt in the centre of the ceiling, and its links pooled in a small heap on the pillow of the bed.

  “You will sleep here,” Georgy said.

  Sara stared at the bed. It had a thin mattress with a single rough brown blanket. Georgy grabbed her right wrist and clipped a steel cuff about it, and she stood, unresisting and almost curious, as he similarly confined her other wrist. He then clipped and locked the chain to the connecting link of the handcuffs. His hands stroked over the swell of her arse, probing between the divide. She pulled away. “I only agreed to serve Mr Borzov,” she said.

  Georgy reached to grasp the chain and pulled her back to him. His other hand dived between her thighs and his finger pushed up into her cum-sodden cunt. “I’m in charge of the Bitches,” he said. “The Boss and me are old friends. We share many things. I’ll share you too, you American whore.”

  He pushed her back on the bed, and her head rested on the links of the chain. Sara instinctively knew there was something dangerous about Georgy Nikitin. She decided that it was useless to try to resist him. Besides, her treacherous body was again responding to the rough treatment, and her cunt was clasping at his invading fingers. She raised her cuffed wrists over her head and spread her legs as she lay back on the bed, watching as he unbuttoned his trousers and flopped out his semi-erect cock. To her surprise, she saw that the cock was tattooed around the centre of the shaft. He then knelt on the bed between her thighs, wanking his cock to full erection. Georgy then scooped up both of her legs, his elbows hooked behind her knees, and his weight bent her double as it pressed down on her. Sara, toes behind her ears and her arse upraised by the position, gasped as the head of the cock nudged against her anus. She was about to protest but he pushed forward insistently and her sphincter gave way. She struggled to relax as the cock slid inside her. Tears of pain watered her eyes as he pushed back and forth, each time gaining further entrance, until his balls rested on her arse and his cock impaled her to the hilt. She recog
nised that it was more of an exchange of power than a mere arse fucking: it was a statement of his authority over her. She rocked back and forth with his thrusts, accepting the ravishment and feeling her anal channel involuntarily clenching and unclenching around the invading shaft. The light in the container suddenly went out, leaving them in inky blackness. However, he kept on fucking her, and she could hear from his ragged breathing that he was close to a climax. When he had used her, he unceremoniously pulled his cock from her anus, dragging against the tender skin of the velvet funnel.

  “The light is on a time-switch,” he said. “We save on electricity for the environment, and its for the good of your slave soul.”

  After he left her, Sara rose from the bed and groped towards the door, intending to turn the light on again. However, the chain did not extend that far. They obviously intended her to remain in utter darkness. She groped for the bed and lay down. What have I done? OMG!

  III

  Sara Smithson had never before properly explored the deeply submissive streak in her nature, except for a few spanking and cock-sucking forays with Professor Zeldov. For the rest, she had confined herself to fantasies and masturbation in the privacy of her bedroom. Strangely, as she lay on her bed in the pitch it didn’t seem so very different. Yet she was in Moscow, a world away from Ohio, and her wrists were cuffed together darkness with the links of the slender chain pooled on her belly. It seemed like just another fantastic fantasy, and she had butterflies in her pussy.