Abuse of Power - Enslaved by the Karinovs (Dark BDSM Erotica)

by Dan Bruce

  “Okay, you win,” the chief replied. “I will let you go.”

  Sally looked at him confused; relief and disappointment waging war across her strained emotions. If anything it was annoyance that emerged the victor. Sally piqued that the chief was giving up his quest so easily. It didn’t last!

  “I will let you go... back to your cell,” the chief continued after a moment’s pause. “If you do not wish to take part in my private punishment as suggested then you will have no part in it whatsoever. But we will leave the doors ajar so you can hear it take place – all aspects of a punishment you have decreed upon Dimitri... Enjoy your revenge, Miss. Hudson. I certainly intend to!”

  Chapter 9

  Sally took her leave, furious with the world. A few minutes later she was back in her cell, the door ajar to let in the sound that was to escape from the torture chamber. She sat on the narrow bed feeling oddly confused. She was so bloody angry – with the chief, with Dimitri, and mostly with herself. She had succumbed so easily, and would have gone further. What an idiot she was to be so easily played. She had acted like a whore, ensnared by the chief’s cock, sucked him off and practically begged to be fucked. Thankfully she managed to resist at the end...

  ‘Thankfully! This is a good result, is it? So why are you sitting here, hideously aroused – wishing you were back in there instead?’

  Sally’s anger flared. That sodding little voice just wouldn’t give up – torturing her more than any man ever could!

  Then the voice was gone, to be replaced by another.

  “You will count these out,” Sally heard the chief order - his voice travelling from the chamber loud and clear, snarling with anger. “Make one mistake and we start over again. Is that clear you despicable dog?”

  There was a mumbled response.

  “I SAID – IS THAT CLEAR?” hollered the chief.

  “Yes,” shouted Dimitri, a hint of defiance to his tone. There was a snap in the air followed by a slash – the sound of leather making contact with flesh.

  “Arrrgh!” Dimitri cried as Sally winced on the bed.

  “When you start to show due deference you can start to count,” the chief yelled.

  “Yes sir! I’m sorry sir!” Dimitri called out.

  Sally groaned and started rubbing her crotch. Her life was a mess, but there could be no denying that it was an exciting mess – never had she felt so sexually aroused as she’d done over the past few days - and the mastery now being demonstrated by sound, enhanced by her imagination – the chief so dominant, big and butch, oozing power in so many forms – that left Sally writhing in her skin, snarling with hunger for the man.

  Another snap, another slash, another agonised cry, followed by a shout of, “One!” Sally moaned imagining the scene - that back, that ass, the look in those black eyes, that incredible cock sticking out of his flies, splendid bound nudity, and magnificent uniformed fineness – the homoeroticism a massive turn on for a woman who was very open minded. Picturing the two men, remembering the sex both had given her, Sally’s hand went down the front of her shorts and a finger went up her drizzling cunt – a cunt that had been fucked so wonderfully well by the man she now heard getting whipped for doing the fucking in the place that he did.

  Snap! Slash! Cries and a count! The beating continued. Sally saw it in her mind – wonderful flesh being flayed by wonderful brutality – two incredible men in a clash of wrath. Sally writhed on her bed, rubbing her clit and frigging her pussy, flashes of remembrance spurring her on: those eyes in the corridor, dark with power; that handsome face so charming in the courtyard; the pain of the flogger, the agony of the belt; that magnificent cock ramming at her cunt, spurting out spunk, drenching her pussy; the power of the chief, the strength of his hand; a single whisper – ‘your total obedience’; that monster of an erection plundering her throat, spurting out spunk into her mouth, so wonderfully delicious.

  “Five!”

  “Ten!”

  The beating progressed, yells of agony accompanying the blows. Sally got up and moved to the door so she could hear all the clearer, masochistically drawn and hideously turned on. By the count of fifteen her shorts were at her knees, Sally listening and groaning, stroking her clit with one hand, frigging her vagina with the other, smacking her lips as she savoured a lingering taste.

  “Arrrgh!”

  “Arrrgh!”

  Dimitri yelled again and again. Then finally weakened but not totally out, a call of, “Twenty!” was mercifully made. Silence ensued, and into that silence Sally was gasping – she could see the scene so clear in her mind: a belt being taken off a pair of uniform trousers; a bare male ass clenching as it waited – the second punishment about to be delivered.

  “Arrrgh!” howled Dimitri yet another time as new leather met flesh that was full and rounded.

  The second punishment was harsh. There was no counting here, just a savage attack, the sound of yelling and thunderous cracks as the chief of police delivered his blows to the wayward lieutenant’s straight male ass. For Sally the image was even more arousing – as she listened at the door, she frantically frigged her cunt and rubbed her clit, soaring on the bliss as Dimitri roared out his agony. She had all but collapsed into a massive orgasm when the belting came to a sudden halt.

  “Now for the real punishment!” the chief yelled.

  “No! No! No!” Sally heard pleaded.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Sally screamed in her head, not registering at all that Dimitri called out in English, just as the chief had done. She was too wrapped up in her whorish visualisation, wishing she was there to witness the violation. Was a whipping too high a price to pay for such an amazing treat? No was the answer, definitely not. So why had she declined? But was her freedom too much? Was the threat of imprisonment really a bluff? Could she ever surrender herself totally and completely?

  ‘Of course you could,’ taunted the voice in her head. ‘You want him so much – you want him to claim you. You still want them both when it comes to that. The doors are open. Just run through and tell him. Throw yourself at your master’s feet and beg him to fuck you instead of Dimitri.’

  “NO! NO!” Sally cried.

  ‘Yes!’ countered the voice. ‘You know I’m always right.’

  “ARRRGH!” came a scream to break Sally’s thoughts, Dimitri’s howl crashing through the air.

  Sally’s knees trembled. “ARRRGH!” she cried as well as her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks.

  “Shut those doors! I’ll have some privacy now!” yelled the chief. He did so in English, even though his guards spoke it poorly. It was all for the benefit of a girl being played by a master of the game.

  SLAM!

  SLAM!

  The doors were shut. Sally was cut off further from what she so passionately wanted, like a child being punished, locked in her room.

  Sally collapsed in a heap on the floor, her mind reeling, her orgasmic cunt pulsing, jealous as all hell.

  ‘Total obedience,’ that’s all he’s asking. ‘You’re total obedience then that could be you!’

  “No! No! No!” Sally cried, but ‘yes’ was echoing in her brain.

  In the torture chamber, Yuri Karinov was savouring some anal flesh, sliding his massive cock in and out of the body bound to the whipping post.

  “I must say Dimitri, it really is wonderfully fine – so snug and warm around my shaft – truly makes for an excellent ride.”

  “It certainly looks very tasty uncle,” Dimitri replied from the chair where he watched the sex, idly stroking his erection, looking forward to his turn at the English actress whose treasures he’d so admired the previous day. “Do you think she fell for it?”

  “Of course she did!” replied the chief as he continued with his rutting. “You played the part wonderfully! Even I would have thought you were actually being whipped on your bare back, and not protected by the leather covering... Julia has coached you well.”

  “She is a find indeed,” mused Dimitri, his eyes borin
g into the English actress’s rump as it was repeatedly slammed by his uncle’s groin. “But was it necessary to involve her like this – hiding her in the anti-chamber to be brought out once the Australian bitch had gone?”

  “Perhaps not - but I needed to fuck someone after that performance. Julia will say nothing. She enjoys my cock too much... and of course there is the footage which would ruin her career – bound in a pillory, getting shafted from behind, screaming like the cock whore she is – shocking behaviour for a budding young actress. Is that not correct, Julia?”

  “Yes sir! Oh God, YES SIR! YES! YES!!!”

  “Foreign women are such sluts!” laughed Yuri as he merrily fucked away, ramming hard meat into one of his many toys. “And soon Dimitri, we shall have another in our collection: Australian Sally. One more twist of the knife and I think we’ll be there. I am so looking forward to enjoying that young woman’s body... time and time again!”

  Chapter 10

  The following day Sally’s troubled life was sent into freefall when she was collected at dawn by the two simian faced henchmen. With her hands cuffed, she was taken out of the castle through dark and mysterious pathways to a side exit where a police van was waiting.

  This didn’t strike Sally as particularly good news!

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked in panic. “I want to see the Australian ambassador. I need to speak to him. I have rights! I have rights! You can’t do this!”

  Paying no heed to her protests, the men bundled Sally into the back of the van. With a burly henchman sitting either side of her, she was then driven through the city that was coming to life.

  It was an uncomfortable journey which lasted the best part of an hour. The henchmen chatted across her in Mastrovian, laughing and joking, taking the occasional liberty and pawing at her body. The man to her right was particularly revolting, rubbing his crotch, his penis clearly erect in his pants, whilst leering at Sally, making no attempt to disguise his obvious lust. At one point he got so carried away, he pulled his flies down and brought out his cock – an ugly gnarled bent piece of meat with a gushing purple knob. Sally thought she was going to be forced to suck it, but the man’s sidekick shouted at him and reluctantly he put it away.

  “He bad, bad, man!” the henchman to the left said in broken English. “Chief cut off his balls if not careful. We not allowed mess around with foreign girls. Chief not like – say bad for reputation of police.”

  That offered some relief, the chief not wanting her to be interfered with. Then the frustrated man to the right croaked out something in Mastrovian. His friend guffawed loudly at the joke. From the left a hand felt up Sally’s ass.

  “He say fuck being policeman!” the man reported as he groped Sally’s butt. “Maybe I agree. Perhaps we do better joining the prison service. Then we fuck you every day!”

  “No!” yelled Sally, all her worst fears confirmed. They were taking her to prison. How could this be!

  Yes, it was a hideous journey – the men pawing and joking at her expense, fear of her imminent future gnawing at her guts. Sally was relieved when the van came to a halt, but her relief was short lived when she was bundled out the back to see the prison in the morning light. Set in woodlands, it was hardly idyllic – a souvenir from the days of Soviet repression – a gulag of nightmarish design.

  “New home!” the English speaking henchmen informed. “Nice, yes? Not so nice inside though. Come!”

  Walking through the prison was a terrifying experience. It was like a pack of wolves had scented blood; the whole place erupting as Sally was frogmarched passed the bar fronted cells. Men leered at her hungrily, hands stretched out in an attempt to paw her, cocks were waved in vulgar promise, lewd remarks were tossed her way, mostly in Mastrovian, but a few in English, making it clear what they intended to do if they ever got the chance.

  “You unlucky!” cackled the English speaking guard. “Go to women’s wing where only the wardens are naughty! Otherwise you get fucked by all these nice men as well!”

  No! This couldn’t be happening. The place was indeed hell on earth. How could she possibly survive more than a few weeks? Ten years would be a death sentence. Sally felt totally crushed.

  She was finally taken to the women’s wing – although some of the hags looked no better than the men. Sally was a bag of shaking nerves by the time she arrived, pleading with the English speaking henchman not to lock her up with anyone else.

  “Too crowded!” she was informed. “But you lucky! Only one other prisoner in your cell – till trial!”

  Almost feinting with terror, they arrived at the barred cell. It was with huge relief that Sally saw the occupant, a girl younger than herself, sitting on her cot, clutching herself weeping. When the cell door was opened, she too looked at Sally with obvious relief. Then noticing the henchmen who she clearly recognised, she sprang up and threw herself at the English speaker’s feet – clearly the ‘nice’ guy of the two. Pleas were made, but the girl was brushed off.

  “She had her chance,” the man reported to Sally. “Some people don’t appreciate good life when have it. Can you imagine! She traded Karinov’s Keep for this!”

  And with that the cell door was locked and the henchmen walked off, laughing at fickle fate.

  “Come back!” Sally yelled after them, blinded by terror. “Come back, please! I have something important to say to Chief Karinov!”

  The English speaking henchman halted, catching his sidekick by the arm to stop him as well. Slowly he turned round then came back to the cell.

  “Chief very busy man. You give message to me.”

  “But...”

  “Okay... enjoy stay,” the man said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Have shower soon... wardens take you there and stay to watch... do more than watch, lucky men.”

  “No! You can’t let that happen!” yelled Sally, her legs giving way, crippled by fear.

  “Yes!” insisted the henchman. “Must be clean. Trial tomorrow... you not turn up dirty. Foreign people think we not look after you. Then come back here. Open and shut case – chief have a tape - you bad, bad, girl!”

  “Oh God! Please help me!”

  “Me no can do,” the man said with another shrug of his shoulders. “Only chief can help.”

  “Then tell him... tell him I’ll try.”

  “Try! That girl try!” the henchman snarled, pointing to Sally’s cellmate. “Not try hard enough. Say no to chief. Not good enough.”

  “Oh God! Please!” cried Sally falling to her knees, the weight of defeat too heavy to bear.

  “What?”

  “Then tell him okay. Tell him I’ll do it.”

  “Do what?... must say now. I not come back until tomorrow to take to trial.”

  “Tell him okay – he can have what he wants – my total obedience.”

  “Smart girl!”

  The key was produced.

  Sally’s Mastrovian adventure was about to take a whole new direction.

  Chapter 11

  “You mean I can use this?” asked Sally, surprised yet again as she gazed at the enormous outdoor pool, the crystal clear water glimmering in the late morning sun.

  “Of course!” stated the beautiful woman to her side. “The chief will not appreciate you getting fat and flabby. If there are no guests here then use it whenever you wish, and the gym to keep the body toned, the grounds to go jogging in. I’m very keen on tennis if you’re any good at that – there are two excellent courts. But whatever you do, I expect you to keep in tip top shape – the chief will be furious with me if you don’t, and we’ll both end up in serious trouble.”

  It wasn’t at all what Sally had expected. She had arrived an hour before after a hassle free journey from the prison, and been met on the driveway of the country mansion by this very sexy looking woman who was now showing her around. Tall, elegant, and impeccably outfitted in a light summer dress – she was in her early thirties at a guess, and definitely not Mastrovian – her flowing blonde hair and
sparkling blue eyes giving that away. She had introduced herself as Greta and gave the new arrival a guided tour of parts of the house, including a bedroom which was apparently for Sally’s personal use. It all seemed too good to be true.

  Then a reality check came when Sally was shown the cellars, specifically a cell where there was a naked woman chained to the wall, bearing a pair of golden nipple rings that were tethered to a hook either side of her. Her skin was so fair, it was almost painfully white, and her eyes had the look of a tormented soul.

  “She did something wrong,” was all Greta had to say on the matter.

  It was a chilling reminder to Sally of her precarious position before she was brought out into the light at the rear of the mansion where they came upon the pool.