by Red Phoenix
Before her climax ended, he began fucking her again. However, this time he was not so gentle.
He forced Lea to the floor. “Hold on to the pole, mishka. You are about to be claimed.”
Grabbing on to her waist with both hands, Rytsar began pumping his cock without restraint. All semblance of control left as he gave in to his sexual cravings and ravaged the girl.
The animalistic moans that came out of her mouth as he pounded her incited his more primal instincts, and he stopped for a moment to bite down on her shoulder. Lea cried out in ecstasy as she came around his cock.
Her powerful orgasm stripped away the last of his control, and he fucked her until he came like the beast he was. Nothing existed but the thrusting of his cock into her pussy until his entire body seized up just before he delivered a gloriously explosive come.
Rytsar screamed to the gods as his seed and all concerns were released in that singular moment. Afterward he grunted as he regained both his breath and his sanity.
He looked down at Lea’s mottled back and smiled to himself. He’d done a fine job with her. The marks left on Lea’s skin were beautiful and spoke to the level of connection they experienced during the scene.
After he pulled out and stood up, Rytsar moved over to his bag to fish out his ointment before snuffing all the candles out, leaving the two of them completely in the dark once again.
He returned to Lea and sat down beside her trembling frame as he began ministering to the wounds on her back, lightly spreading the healing salve over them as he spoke to her in the dark. “I have found it is cathartic to let the demons surround you.”
Although he personally found it deeply cleansing, he realized it was not so for Lea when she began to tense beneath his touch.
“What are you frightened of, mishka?”
She let out a strangled sob. “I’m suffocating.”
“What do you mean?”
“The dark…it’s triggering…a memory,” she told him between gasps, as if she were truly struggling to breathe.
“Go on,” he encouraged, wanting to know the demon that held her captive.
“My parents…” She swallowed hard before adding, “They never meant—”
“Just spit it out. Do not qualify the memory.”
She nodded, taking a few moments to try to rein in her fears so she could speak clearly. “I was only three, but the memory is still vivid for me.” Lea whimpered.
“You must separate yourself emotionally from the memory, mishka, if you ever wish to be free of its power over you.”
Lea only nodded, still too caught up in the memory to speak.
“Tell me what happened,” he urged, gently stroking her face.
Lea stiffened, but he focused his touch on her temples, massaging those pressure points to help her relax. Soon she was able to share her thoughts out loud.
“My parents were running errands that day. I remember it was unusually hot outside.” Lea took a deep breath, fighting off the fear. “They told me they would be gone for a few minutes, but they didn’t come back. I watched for them as I started to burn up in the car. I kept fumbling with the handle, trying to get out, but it wouldn’t open. Then I started hitting on the window, crying for my mommy. I couldn’t breathe anymore…”
Lea started to gasp for air again as she relived the moment in her mind. “Every breath was like fire inside me,” she said in a tortured voice.
Rytsar sensed she was coming close to suffering a panic attack and embraced her in his protective arms. “You survived, mishka. It’s okay,” he whispered.
He could feel the terror of the moment filling the air of the room. She buried her head against his chest and allowed the fear to roll past.
After several minutes, she stated in a voice hoarse with emotion, “My father told me that a good Samaritan rescued me from the car when he found me curled up in the backseat, my sweaty handprints all over the windows.”
Lea started crying again, still haunted by the terror of that moment as a child.
“This memory…it lives like a monster inside you.”
Lea rested her head against his chest. “Yes. Anytime I feel trapped, I go right back to that day and I can’t breathe—I have to escape.”
“If that is the case, I’m surprised that you consent to bondage at all.”
Lea pressed closer to him and mumbled, “Only with certain people.”
“So I should feel honored?” he growled huskily, touched that she had been so brave with him.
Lea said nothing but turned her head and kissed Rytsar. She tasted of tears.
“Because you have shared your demon, I will acquaint you with one of mine. It’s my belief that they have less power over you when you face them head-on.”
Lea reached out to caress his jaw. “I want to believe that.”
“Like you, my demons met me when I was young.” He grunted as he allowed the unwanted memory to replay in his mind. “I was only five, but like you, it’s as if it happened yesterday. My father was extremely angry at me, but I didn’t understand why. I had done nothing wrong. He dragged me to a pole outside the servant’s quarters while my mother screamed for him to stop.
“My older brothers…they just watched in stunned silence.
“My father was in a blind rage, bellowing like a bull as he stripped off my shirt and bound my hands without explanation. Then he served me five hard lashes from his whip.”
There had been a time when Rytsar could still feel the physical pain of the whip, but he’d divorced his emotions and relegated it to a distant memory, now only recalling the facts without suffering the pain.
“After the whipping, my father told me it was not for a crime I had committed, but for an offense by my oldest brother, Vlad.”
Rytsar remembered that day with extreme clarity because it marked the end of his childhood.
“I will never forget my mother’s screams as the lashes rained down on her little boy.”
“Why would he do that to you—his own son?”
Rytsar snorted angrily. “My father decreed that afternoon that I was the appointed whipping boy for the family. I remember the horrified look on my three brothers’ faces when they heard it. No one took pleasure in my punishment except my father. He enjoyed hurting me, but being a sadist himself, I suppose that was to be expected.
“As time went on, and the shock of his edict became accepted, my brothers came to understand they were free to misbehave without consequence.”
He let out a long, tortured sigh as guilt and anger washed over him. “I had wrongly assumed that when my younger brother turned five the responsibility would fall onto his shoulders. Although I felt sorry for Pavel, I was anxious to be relieved of the duty.
“I remember the day he was brought to the whipping post after burying one of Father’s expensive pipes in the backyard. He was crying piteously, knowing what was coming, and all I felt was relief knowing this time it would not be me. But I was wrong.
“Father told my younger brother to stand beside the others and called me to the pole. When my mother protested, he had his men escort her away. I watched them drag her away kicking and screaming, knowing there was no hope for me.
“I refused to go to the pole, so my father grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and pulled me there, tearing off my shirt and binding me so tightly my wrist bled.” Rytsar copied the harshness of his father’s voice, saying, “Insolence will be doubly punished, boy.”
Rytsar remembered well that particular punishment, but he’d only been able to endure part of it before he blacked out. He’d awoken to his mother’s gentle hands as she tended his lashes while his father stood watch over him.
The man had glared down at Rytsar as if he was disgusted with his son. Whether it was because Rytsar had blacked out or survived the whipping, he was unsure. Fiercely defiant even as a boy, he’d met his father’s scowl, unwilling to look away but secretly terrified of the man.
Rytsar tightened his embrace, confessi
ng to Lea in the cover of darkness, “I always wondered what was wrong with me that I was the only one chosen to bear my father’s wrath. What weakness did he see in me that justified my role as his whipping boy?”
Even now when Rytsar thought back on it, he felt a stab in his heart, not because of the physical abuse—no, it went much deeper. It disturbed him knowing there had been a time in his young life when he’d longed to be accepted by the brute—despite everything.
It made no sense and he felt shame for it now.
“I feared the man but longed for his love when I was a boy, but no longer. My rage toward my father is so dark, no light can penetrate it.”
Rytsar abruptly lifted Lea up, releasing those unwanted feelings through the physical effort of lifting her. He felt for the matches and relit the first candle, filling the dungeon with its light.
“Life is full of demons, mishka,” he informed her. “However, we determine their power over our lives. Me? I won’t be controlled by them.”
Rytsar looked down at Lea tenderly. Her eyes were rimmed in red and her cheeks wet from many tears.
“I will finish tending to your marks up in my bedroom.” He lit the torch with the candle and left her briefly to light the hallway before returning. Rytsar held out his hand to Lea and carefully lifted her, cradling her naked body in his arms as he carried her through the narrow hallways to his room.
Rytsar had learned in college, after observing Thane, that the care given after intense play was significant for both the Dominant and the submissive. While his own father scoffed at any man tending to a woman, Rytsar understood the importance. He’d experienced the bonding effects of it even as a boy, whenever his mother had tended to his wounds after each punishment.
Now, when he engaged in aftercare, it provided a tie to his mother’s memory—a moment in time he enjoyed reliving.
Rytsar spent over an hour tending to Lea, knowing he had challenged her both physically and mentally. Lea’s tan skin was the perfect canvas for the red welts he’d created. The color would remain long after the welts disappeared. He was particularly gentle in his care of her, and rewarded Lea for her courage with praise.
“I was unsure, Ms. Taylor, if you would remain after I left you alone in the dungeon. Now that I know the fear you carry, I’m even more impressed.”
“I almost ran, Rytsar,” Lea admitted. “When the darkness closed in, the only thing that kept me there was telling myself that you’d come back. But when you didn’t return right away, I became that little kid trapped in the car—abandoned and terrified.”
“Yet you endured. Why?”
“I know that you are a sadist, so I forced myself to trust that this was simply a challenge and you had not abandoned me.”
“You were wise to do so. I was not interested in scening with a curious child. I wanted only a fearless woman to wear my marks today.” He smiled down at her. “And they look magnificent on you.”
She smiled, looking at him in adoration. “You’re not anything like I expected, Rytsar.”
He chuckled. “What did you expect?”
“I thought you would be more…harsh and cold. I should have guessed that wasn’t the case since Brie adores you so. But I must admit I’ve never met a sadist like you before.” Lea giggled lightly, shaking her head. “You’re kind—but exceedingly cruel.”
Their shared laughter filled the room.
“Would you like me to tell you a joke?” she asked, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Nyet.”
She frowned, looking surprised.
“But you may suck my cock.”
Lea gave him a crooked smile.
“Graduates of The Center are said to be the very finest. And to think, I shall finally sample your skills at fellatio.”
Lea suddenly burst out in a nervous giggle as a pink blush crept over her chest.
Her sudden discomfort made no sense and he questioned her on it. “Is something wrong, Ms. Taylor?”
Lea avoided his gaze when she answered. “It’s just that… I…have someone at home.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “You are taken?”
Her blush became an even deeper shade of red. “It’s not like we’re a couple or anything really, it’s just that she…” Lea clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.
“I take it you prefer women,” he stated matter-of-factly. Rytsar stood up and began putting on his clothes. “So we are done here?”
Lea looked humiliated, but only shook her head.
“It’s fine. I had a pleasant time, I trust you did too.”
“More than you know. You were…magnificent.”
Rytsar raised an eyebrow. “Had you said otherwise, I would have known you were lying. Wet pussies tell no lies.”
She giggled, but her eyes still conveyed her palpable unease.
“While I retrieve your clothing from the dungeon, you may use my bathroom to clean up,” he stated, giving them both an easy out.
Rytsar left the room and headed back to the dungeon, shaking his head in amusement. “So mishka prefers pussy. Hmm… It explains why we never hooked up before, but it’s a shame. She comes so hard around my cock.”
Isle Dreams
Rytsar left Italy the next day, bound for Moscow. He’d enjoyed seeing his comrade marry, and trusted Brie and Thane would have a memorable time on their island.
Knowing he had a four-hour flight facing him, Rytsar let his thoughts drift to his friends on the isle. He might have to encourage those two to return to it in a few months’ time. There were so many things he wanted to try with Brie—so many compromising positions he longed to put her in.
His cock responded to the mere thought of it and he had to adjust his growing erection. As he watched the rolling Italian countryside below, Rytsar decided to indulge in his fantasy.
The rumble of the puddle-jumper overhead alerted Rytsar to the fact his friends had finally arrived. He watched as the small aircraft landed near the island and the pilot helped Brie into a small boat.
Rytsar was surprised to see that Thane wasn’t with her.
His curiosity piqued, Rytsar walked to the shoreline to greet them. Brie jumped out of the boat into the knee-deep water and took the suitcase the pilot handed her. She stumbled trying to keep the suitcase above her head as the waves crashed against her legs.
Amusing as it was to watch, Rytsar met her in the water, offering to take the suitcase from her.
“Oh, thank you, Rytsar,” Brie exclaimed, just before a big wave hit and she fell into the swirling water.
Rytsar held out his hand to her, smirking as she grabbed on to him. Her clothes and hair were now sopping wet.
“You saved my stuff in the nick of time!” she cried, gripping his hand tightly as she threw her wet hair back. With his help, she was able to slosh through the moving waters and onto the shore.
“Where is your husband?”
Brie flashed him a shy grin. “He had a bit of business to take care of and said he will join us shortly.”
“So I have you all to myself?”
“Yes…” she answered, suddenly looking anxious.
He placed his hand behind her neck and squeezed it firmly as he leaned down to kiss her. “Then I will make the most of this time.” He released his grip and told her to follow as he disappeared down the path.
Brie giggled behind him as she struggled to keep up, her delighted laughter mixing well with the warm tropic air.
Rytsar led her to the small dwelling he’d specially designed for the island. It housed everything he needed, including the blue claw-foot bathtub. Of all the items in the tiny home, that had been the most expensive, mainly due to shipping costs. He hadn’t regretted the purchase—it had acted as his calling card for Brie on the honeymoon, with its Russian scenery etched in the blue glass.
And now he would it put to good use…
He told Brie to strip while he readied the pole.
“I don’t remember that being here last time
,” Brie told him as she undressed.
“Because it’s newly installed, radost moya. Something I designed myself with you in mind,” he answered with a wicked grin.
“Oh, so it’s not just a stripper pole?” she teased as she knelt on the floor and bowed her head to him.
Rytsar smirked. “Oh, you will be dancing on the pole, but not in the way you’re suggesting.”
She glanced at the pole nervously while he opened a wooden box filled with custom attachments. With satisfaction, he fastened a large angled phallus to the steel pole, adjusting the level before tightening it securely.
He smiled at her. “Interested now?”
Brie nodded as he took out a second attachment, simple cuffs, and secured them at a level that would stretch her lean frame.
Once he was satisfied both were adequately secured, he opened his equipment bag and pulled out the Hitachi and a tube of lubricant.
“Lube the rod liberally as if it were my cock,” he ordered.
Brie rocked gracefully from her heels and took the tube he offered before moving to the pole. It pleased him to see her curious and uncertain as she coated the large phallus.
He didn’t miss the seductive way she used a twisting stroke on the tool as she lubed it, a direct result of her training at The Center. However, the fact she licked her lips nervously as she did so alerted him to her unspoken misgivings.
How daunting it must be for her—alone on the island with a sadist.
Rytsar chuckled to himself, causing goosebumps on her skin as she finished the job. He handed her a towel before giving his next command.
“Spread your cheeks apart and push that cock deep into your ass.”
She stared at the instrument, her eyes widening as she contemplated its challenging size.
“Begin, radost moya.”
Rytsar moved to a better viewpoint to watch as she spread herself open and positioned her pink rosette against the head of the toy. He gazed with interest as she began rocking against the device, willing her body to give in to its demanding girth. Brie moaned softly when the round head slowly slipped inside, stretching the delicate skin surrounding it.
