The Russian

by Isabella Laase

  Chapter Seven

  Luka had long since made it his practice to work only with experienced submissives, and he’d never collared one for his own. Women seeking the same goal were readily available at the exclusive club in his hometown. Sex. A release from their everyday world to live a few utopian hours freed from life’s demands with no responsibility except to explore their pleasure. Even his long-term relationships hadn’t included his need to dominate so completely, and they’d ended predictably and quickly when the women had failed to keep his attention for more than a few months.

  His koshka was different. Like a well-designed science experiment, she’d responded to his every action, defying Newton’s Law of Motion by multiplying his movement with a force he’d enjoyed tremendously. Even in her innocence, she’d ceded to him easy to understand cues about her needs and her fears, allowing him to keep her at that vulnerable place where she’d relied on him for his every gift until he’d driven his cock into her heat.

  To guarantee her safety, he’d stayed nearby during the night, but leaving her had been more difficult than he’d expected. Her silky nude body was snuggled into the covers, still sleepy from sex with her hair in tangles across the pillow, but he couldn’t afford to send mixed messages. To join her would have been too intimate. This was a temporary arrangement, a simple venture into the world of kink, and she wasn’t his to keep. Luka would take her home before the end of the day and join Yuri and Slavic in Brooklyn.

  He was awake before sunrise, showered and dressed in jeans and a plain black t-shirt and made a cup of coffee from the single serve machine in the kitchenette. He waited for her to rouse, but by seven-thirty, he’d grown impatient. Returning to the bedroom, he prepared to waken her, but she was alert.

  “How long have you been awake?” he asked. “I thought I was giving you the chance to sleep.”

  “That was nice of you,” she murmured, stretching with a lazy aura before pulling the covers further around her neck. “But I was just thinking about last night.” She paused for a minute as her adorable red blush burned her cheeks. “I enjoyed myself, Luka. It was amazing.” She rattled the chain around her ankle. “But can you please let me go, sir? I need to visit the bathroom.”

  He complied, fully appreciating her smooth skin and rounded curves as she walked past him. She glanced shyly back over her shoulder, adding a little sass. “You’re gawking, sir.”

  “Get back in here, and I’ll do more than gawk,” he said, delivering a sharp spank to her ass and making her squeal with a big jump toward the bathroom.

  He made plans for the day while she was occupied. He’d been gentle the first night, but the possibilities were only limited by the hours they had remaining. Some of his favorite pieces of equipment were handmade by specialty craftsman from around the world, and Pavel’s dungeon had several he’d long since wanted to try.

  She returned from the bathroom with a brilliant smile, making no attempt to hide her nudity, and his cock responded. Nodding her toward the bed, he stripped while she obeyed, and he covered her. Her wet response made it clear she needed no foreplay, so he handed her a condom from the nightstand while she wiggled out from under him. Opening the package with her teeth, she took his dick in her hands and straddled his leg, rolling the condom over his cock.

  Her fingertips stroked his length, teasing and toying with his need until she tickled his balls, making him groan. Prepared to punish her for torturing him, he rolled her to her back, pushing her thighs apart to reveal the thatch of curls decorating her mons. His hardened cock prodded her vagina before he entered her with a forceful intrusion.

  Grabbing his neck, she gasped, but the move was too arrogant to suit him. He pinned her wrists above her head with an exacting grasp while continuing the slow movement in her pussy. Attacking her breasts with a ruthless, hungry need, he sucked her tits, rubbing his teeth across her nipples until she twisted underneath him. He increased his speed, pulling out occasionally to tickle her vulva with his hardness, dragging more wetness along her channel before attacking again and driving deep into her core.

  Their breathing grew steady, as though they were one; deep breaths that failed to fill their lungs, and her hips rocked to meet his rhythm. She shouted as her pussy closed around his cock, the spasms nursing his lust until he reached that moment of ecstasy just before releasing his seed and sending waves of tingling, shivering sensations from his groin, her body still shuddering under his.

  * * *

  Her pussy hadn’t felt this sore since the first time she’d fucked the neighbor kid back in high school. She’d spent the next ten years comparing sex to that sad event, mostly surpassing the experience but on a few desperate occasions, coming up short. The hook-up culture created in her early adult life might have given her a few cheap releases, but without any kind of emotional connection, her closely guarded inner self had stayed hidden behind impenetrable walls.

  But twice in a twelve-hour period with Luka, she’d exploded with powerful orgasms unlike anything she’d ever achieved. Even during the long night, the ankle cuff had reminded her she was still in his control, and her first view of his fully naked frame had established her arousal. Enclosed between powerful thighs, his erection was decorated with spidery blue veins, and granite-hard arms swirled with the myriad tattoos. The need to trace the winding ink to its source was strong, but he’d pinned her wrists above her head, taking what he wanted and leaving her with no goal except to be fucked. Glorious, fulfilling, raw, and powerful sex.

  She snuggled into his side to allow the simple fantasy that after-sex closeness was normal for them. He’d made clear the fact their time was limited, but she was determined to make the best of it. Perhaps, someday, she’d seek another dom, but for now, the memory of these few hours with Luka would have to suffice before she returned to her predictable, sexless world.

  Eventually, he roused, moving away from her to pull his jeans over his naked ass and slip into his t-shirt. “Get up, koshka,” he demanded, as she tried to curl back into the covers. “I want to give you a full meal. You’ve not eaten enough since you’ve been here.”

  “I’ve eaten plenty,” she countered without thinking. “But let me get dressed first. I’m not going to parade around naked in front of your damned cousins.”

  He didn’t say a word, but with that glower in his arsenal, he didn’t have to. Backpedaling from her mistake wasn’t easy. “I... I’m sorry? Sir? Maybe you need to teach me how to say ‘I’m sorry’ in Russian because I think I’m going to be using that phrase a lot.”

  “You will be more than sorry before we are done,” he said, crooking his finger with an ominous persistence, “but for now, I will be content with a small correction. Come here.”

  Without finding a hint of a smile in his steely expression, Mia’s next step was far from clear. After last night, sex and power clearly belonged together. The bedroom was a magical place where unlimited fantasy could reign under the cover of darkness, but a bare bottom spanking during daylight was crossing the line to real life.

  “Come here, koshka,” he repeated. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

  As much as she didn’t want to move forward, she couldn’t think of a single option that would end this. She took a few tiny steps, but it was close enough for him to grab her wrist and settle her over his lap, pulling on her hips until she stared at his ankles. She clenched her bottom cheeks and prepared for the worst, grabbing his calves to try to stabilize her precarious position while he swatted her bottom.

  The gentle heat spread across her ass to create a unique sensuality but falling short of real pain and allowing time for him to rub the effect before adding another correction. Her pussy erupted with a new layer of wet arousal, and her muscles relaxed their tense hold. Relieved she could handle his punishment, she squirmed to find a more comfortable position over his rock-hard thighs.

  “Good, koshka,” he said. “Now we can begin.”

  She tried to twist from the waist to stare at
him, but he gathered her wrists to the small of her back and moved his legs to trap her between his thighs before picking up his tempo. There was no time to adjust between spanks with no gentle rubbing of the sensual heat. Each swat left her bottom increasingly sensitive and when he passed across previously spanked skin, it just plain hurt. She bit her tongue, determined to meet his game but after a dozen biting spanks, she gave up.

  “Stop,” she yelled. “Fucking stop. That hurts.”

  He didn’t. The corrections became stronger, a burning, sharp pain that superseded any thoughts of sex. She tried to escape, but he was too strong, circling in an unpredictable pattern that left nothing untouched and reaching all the way to the mega-sensitive place where her thighs met her bottom.

  Like a punished child’s, the huge tears led to bawling and pleading, “I’ll be good. Please, stop...”

  He stopped when he was ready, but not before she’d lost count and her ass was a burning caldron of fire. Releasing her wrists, he loosened his control, but she remained over his knee, rubbing the tears with the back of her fist. That hurt, that fucking, fucking hurt, but she kept her thoughts to herself. There was no way they were going to repeat that little ‘correction.’

  Before she could escape, his thighs locked her in place a second time, and his fingers separated her bottom cheeks to apply a cold lube that prodded her ass. “Hey,” she said, twisting to get a visual. “What are you doing?” The plug pushed its way into her bottom to repeat last night’s performance, but this one felt even bigger.

  “I’m giving you a reminder to watch your tone and your respect. You’ll feel this plug and maybe you’ll behave the way you’ve been taught. Now, let’s go downstairs, or do we need the next level of correction? I have bigger plugs and many paddles that can deliver more bite than my palm.”

  She stood, moving her hands to her ass with the goal of locating his intrusion and, maybe, rub a little of the heat away from her punished cheeks, but he caught her wrists, fastening the cuffs in front of her and adding a six-foot leather leash to lead her out the door and down the circular stairway.

  There was only one possible option. Mia pouted. It was a childish action that she’d never given into in her past, but she couldn’t think of another reaction that would appease him while expressing her displeasure. Being naked in his playroom was a lot of fun. Walking into the kitchen of a kinky lake house with nothing but handcuffs, a leash, and a plug in her butt was a whole new level of mortification.

  The downstairs was quiet with no signs of his cousins as the sting on her bottom morphed to a warm, sensitive heat that was far from unpleasant, but she wasn’t willing to give up her pouting. At least the temperature of the house was comfortable, and he turned on the gas fireplace in the adjoining family room to further heat the space.

  “Put your nose in the corner,” he said absently. “I’ll make breakfast, and you can entertain me while I work.”

  “Do you expect me to sing and dance?” she muttered, her grumpy mood refusing to dissipate. “Because I don’t see any f’ing pole around here.”

  “You’d better hope that’s all I expect,” he said, tweaking her nipple with a pinch. “I’m a man of many talents, and you don’t want to learn all of them. But no, today, I would be content with watching that plug decorate your red ass. And I warn you, do not turn around for any reason. Repeat back to me your instructions so I am confident you understand.”

  For dramatic effect, she rattled her cuffs and raised her voice above a normal speaking tone. “I’m going to stand in that corner, and I’m not going to move. No matter what happens. Did I do okay there, big—?” She stopped before she finished the sentence. She wasn’t stupid.

  He smiled, but it was far from a warm, fuzzy embrace. “Yes, koshka. You’ve made my choice very easy.”

  He took her cuffed arms over her head and attached her leash to a hook in the ceiling that looked like it should have held a heavy hanging plant, pulling her elbows to about a forty-five-degree angle. Turning her to the corner, he caught her off guard with a plastic spatula, spanking her still sensitive bottom and leaving another stinging reminder that she needed to keep her mouth shut when he was in full dom mode.

  Standing in one spot was harder than a person would think and tied to the ceiling while nude with a plug filling her ass didn’t help. Surrounded by the smell of sizzling bacon, Luka moved around the kitchen and Mia tried hard to keep her squirming to a minimum. The muscles in her legs grew twitchy, even as she shifted her weight, and no matter how many times she wiggled her shoulders, they longed to be stretched with the blood flowing downward.

  She heard Slavic long before he came into the kitchen, shouting down the hall in Russian, and her heart sank as she thumped her head against the wall in defeat. Slavic was the darker, quieter and, truthfully, scarier of the two brothers. Yuri’s size alone made him formidable and his occasional scowl could melt an iceberg, but at least he’d offered her a smile or two over the last few days. Slavic was just plain mean.

  His voice grew louder, and she could discern the change of tone when he must have spotted her naked, plugged ass standing in the corner. He spoke in Russian to Luka, who offered a similar, jovial response. She didn’t need to comprehend the language to understand both of them were enjoying her misery and closed her eyes to wish the whole experience into the bad dream category.

  Slavic asked what was clearly a question, and there was a slight pause before Luka responded, “Da.” It was one of only four Russian words she could understand, and she had a very, very bad feeling his agreement involved her. Within a few seconds, both men were at her side, but she kept her nose to the corner, willing her mind to believe that as long as she couldn’t understand what they were saying or see their faces, she could pretend she was invisible.

  “Look at me, koshka,” said Luka. He waited until she reluctantly complied, catching glimpses of both men’s amused faces. “Slavic has asked to touch you, and I have agreed. You’ll stand still and behave; show him how ready you are to become a true submissive by taking orders that will destroy your preconceived ideas of what constitutes a sexual experience.”

  “Relax, little one,” said Slavic with remarkable gentleness. “I’m not going to hurt you, but the public nature of a scene is lost with just the two of you. I asked Luka if we can give you just a taste, but I think you’ll appreciate it. If you’re interested, I can give you the names of people in western New York who embrace this lifestyle. They don’t advertise, but they welcome new members with open arms.”

  Leaning against the black granite countertop on the other side of the room, Luka watched, and she tried to assess how far he would let this little experiment go. “Relax, koshka,” he said, reading her fears perfectly. “I’m going to enjoy this very much.”

  He’d said she would enjoy herself if she stayed with him. Igniting her passion with his magic, he’d been right last night. She’d never come so hard, but this required a new level of trust. None of this made any sense. She held no attraction to Slavic, but Luka’s desire made it erotic. The lack of boundaries and predetermined limits she’d thought would be the most dangerous risk sent an inexplicable anticipation through her trembling body.

  Slavic placed his hands on her shoulders, and she shut her eyes tightly, willing her brain to cede to her pussy’s demands. His touch was different than Lukas, less demanding. He slid down her sides, crossing her tummy and tickling the curls between her legs but limited his caresses to her arms and outer thighs while her breasts ached with an unnatural need. She may have been trussed and unable to protest, but she was almost disappointed at the innocent movements.

  Opening her eyes, she met Slavic’s gaze, and he smirked before taking her breast fully in his palm, squeezing until she whimpered. He rubbed over her nipples, first one then the second, teasing the curls between her legs before giving a small nudge across her wet clit.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t shaved her, Luka,” he said absently. “You’ve always pr
eferred a clean-shaven pussy.” Sliding his finger through her inner labia, Slavic gently kissed her forehead. “You did beautifully, Mia.”

  “Anton and Yuri already left in Yuri’s car,” continued Slavic, walking to the back door. “Here are the keys to Anton’s Jeep. You can bring it back to New York when you’re ready.” Staring at her, Slavic spoke to Luka. “You’re a lucky man to find someone so beautiful and her resolve after only one night is impeccable.” He ran his hands across her bottom. “You should continue, Mia. I’ll send Luka some information, and he can pass it on to you.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. Slavic closed the door behind him, and she turned to Luka. “Thank you for bringing me here, ser.” She didn’t mean the kitchen, she meant here. To the point where sex had a focus beyond gratification, but gratification was the goal. It was a hard balance to explain to herself, much less anybody else.

  Luka wrapped himself around her body, releasing her leash from the ceiling. Overwhelmed, her knees buckled a little as she fell into his embrace. He held her, rubbing her shoulders and arms until the muscles tingled, and he pulled her closer to his side.

  “Come, koshka,” he said, “Your meal is ready.” She held out her cuffs to be removed, but he pointed to the floor next to the table and said, “Kneel.”

  Her need to please him was stronger than she could fathom. She lowered her gaze and knelt where he demanded. It took a few seconds for her knees to adjust to the hardness, but a small area rug under the table saved her from the worst of the cold tile.

  For the next half hour, Luka fed her breakfast, bite by bite in one of the most sensuous experiences of her life. The bacon, simple scrambled eggs, and the leftover sharlotka were offered with a silver fork at his discretion while he chatted. She responded as she’d been taught, da, ser; nyet, ser. He wiped her face between bites with a cloth napkin that matched the sunflower placemats and gave her long drinks of both orange juice and water, not satisfied until she’d finished both glasses.