Her handsome escorts were dressed in creased dress slacks with their expensive shirtsleeves rolled past their elbows to reveal their powerful forearms. Luka’s curly black hair was pulled to the nape of his neck, his arm resting protectively around the back of her chair. Their raucous laughter fit perfectly into the noisy restaurant, and she never wanted the camaraderie to end, the fine wine flowing until she’d grown lightheaded and her stomach was full from rich food. Despite her giggling insistence that she’d forget most of them, the cousins taught her several Russian phrases.
Luka warned her, “They are teaching you curses and inappropriate responses. Just remember nothing these idiots say should ever be repeated in polite company. Now you need to pick which of their choices you liked the best. Like tiny children, they will never sleep until you choose, and the others are destined to defeat.”
She knew whatever she said would lead to more bickering, but she laughed. “Definitely the chebureki.” She took another bite of the fried dumplings with a spicy meat filling. “I need to learn how to make these.”
The men roared, laughing and pounding each other on their backs until they started to argue in Russian. The louder they grew, the more animated their hand movements became, all waving dramatically to support their mysterious point until Yuri slammed his fists on the table and took out his cell phone. “We’ll call Zoya right now.”
Mia leaned sleepily back into Luka’s arms as they got Yuri and Slavic’s stepmother on the speaker phone to continue the mysterious argument. Mia whispered to Luka, “Her accent doesn’t sound like yours,”
“She’s Georgian,” said Luka, “but she grew up when that country was part of the Soviet Union so she speaks Russian as well as she speaks Georgian.”
Each of the men shouted their point, and Zoya’s calm responses supported Mia’s image of an elderly, heavy-set housewife wearing a shapeless cotton dress and sensible brown shoes. When Zoya was finished speaking, the men roared again as Anton collected a few hundred dollars from Yuri, clearly the winner of their debate.
She turned in Luka’s arms to rub his prickly scruff of a beard. “What on earth were you all fighting about that was so important?”
Luka looked a little sheepish and scratched the back of his ear. “Whether or not she makes borscht with pork or beef. It doesn’t take much to make a Russian show their passion. Apparently, the answer was beef.”
* * *
The next day, they visited a huge aquarium whose shark tank included a pedestrian tunnel that allowed the huge creatures with massive teeth to swim over her head and an entire atrium filled with birds in the ceiling and alligators below the floor. On the way back to the hotel, they wandered through the old part of town before exploring Dealey Plaza where even Luka was subdued by the visualization of a motorcade innocently turning the corner and ending the life of John Kennedy before his time.
They ate lunch at a crowded Mexican restaurant that only had counter service. For many, it was standing room only, but they’d jumped on a small table and squeezed everybody in. The men had beer, consuming more nachos and burritos than she’d ever thought possible, and Anton finished first. “They have a great natural history museum in Dallas, dinosaur bones and everything. Do you want to go before we have to get ready for the reception?”
“That’s a great idea,” she said excitedly. “Is it far from here?”
Before Anton could respond, Luka waved his hand. “Not this afternoon. I’m tired, and you need to rest since we will be up late tonight. We can stop before we leave for the airport tomorrow.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “I’m not a child. If you’re tired, you can go back to the hotel.”
The undecipherable hum of conversation in the busy restaurant continued, but the four cousins grew quiet, three of them not making eye contact with her. Luka’s displeasure was so apparent that she swallowed hard, taking solace in the fact they were in a public location and he had time to calm down before they returned to the room, an event that clearly needed to be postponed.
“Say something if you need to, Luka,” she said, keeping her tone even. “But I’ve never been on a vacation, and I don’t want to miss a single thing. You can lie down, and I’ll be fine with the boys.”
Luka stood, pushing his tray aside, but his glower drew the attention of several people from nearby tables. “Get up, koshka. We’re going back to the hotel.” The unspoken threat and the edges of his temper were easy to discern, but she hesitated, trying to think of an option that would change the outcome.
“I should have asked Luka first,” said Anton quietly. “You should go. The museum will be there tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, Anton,” she said, still keeping her tone calm. “I’m an adult, and it’s ultimately my decision.”
She hadn’t finished her sentence when a stone-faced Luka took her elbow to lift her out of the chair, presenting her with only two options: to follow peacefully with some sense of dignity, or, based on the firmness with which he held her, she truly believed he would take her from the restaurant kicking and screaming.
Nodding to the other three with as much grace as her burning cheeks could manage, she stood, but the mortification fed her temper instead of her submission. She was not some errant child and had long since earned the right to make decisions for herself. There was so much more to him than his games, but at that moment, she had a hard time remembering what it was.
“Move,” he said, pointing to the door, the veins in his neck pulsing and barely concealing his fury. She held her head high without meeting any judgmental faces, and exited the restaurant on her own two feet.
The hotel was less than two blocks away, but her anger, fear, and embarrassment continued vying with each other for control of her next move. They didn’t speak for the entire fifteen-minute trip, and she refused to even look at him. She entered their room ahead of him, remaining silent until the door closed when she twirled around to point her finger at him. “That was embarrassing. If you had something to say to me, you didn’t have to make a scene. Everyone in that restaurant knew you were ticked off.”
“Ticked off doesn’t begin to express my temper. And why shouldn’t I have been angry after you defied me? You agreed I would make the decisions in this relationship, and I made it, yet you conveniently forget our rules when you are under the false assumption your public location frees you from your obligations.”
“I... I...” she stammered, trying to find the words to mitigate the damage while still making her point. “I’m sorry, but I really wanted to go. We should have talked about it instead of dictating to me like you were some sort of Neanderthal.”
“And I said we’d go tomorrow. Now, strip, and we will deal with your attitude before I put you to bed. If you are lucky, your punished ass will allow you to sit comfortably in your chair tonight.”
“No, Luka,” she said, half pleading and half demanding. “That isn’t necessary. I... I’m sorry. You don’t need to do this, somebody might hear you.”
He appeared to give her reasoning deep thought. “I did plan on giving them something to hear, but perhaps you are right. It wouldn’t be fair to have them listen to your spanking when they are trying to enjoy their vacation.”
Oh, thank God, she said to herself, closing her eyes to steady her nerves. “I... I am a little tired. You were right, with the time change and my long shift yesterday, a nap would be wonderful.”
“But it’s time we explored alternative ways to punish you, especially since a good spanking has failed to change your unacceptable behaviors.” She stared at him with wide eyes, but he shrugged. “I told you to strip.”
She frantically looked around the room to see if some magical alternative had appeared, but the realization he was moving forward forced her to fight the panic. Desperate to postpone his punishment, she slipped out of her clothes and slowly folded them into a small pile on the dresser.
“Kneel and take off my belt,” he said, taking off his shirt an
d crossing his arms over his muscled torso.
Other than their first weekend when he’d reddened her with three painful stripes, the belt had remained in his ultimate threat category, scaring her to death for weeks. “I should have thrown that thing in the garbage when I had the chance,” she mumbled, dropping to her knees to face him. “It would have taken years for the leather to get that soft again.”
“Stick to what you understand,” he responded. “A belt that hasn’t been broken in delivers much more sting than a worn one, but I will be sure to order a brand new one so you can experiment with the differences. And I would suggest strongly that you stop speaking.”
Her fingers fumbled over the buckle, but she slid the belt through the loops and handed it to him. When he tossed it aside, she almost cried out in relief until she remembered that he was going to punish her with something worse than a spanking. He released her ponytail and took handfuls of her hair, pulling sharply enough to make her wince.
“Apparently, a good beating isn’t enough to settle this attitude,” he said. “Unzip my pants, koshka, and take out my cock. I will show you how I punish a mouth that doesn’t understand when to be quiet.”
She pulled his shaft from the confines of his pants, and her eyes grew even wider at the sight of his erection at her eye level. There was no... absolutely no... fucking way she found any of this to be erotic, yet the sensations twirled from her pussy to engage her clit, swelling and pulsing with pleasure while a covert wetness filled her channel. Her abject, total fear threatened to defeat all of it. To balance the conflicting forces, she moved to touch his hardness, but he took his handcuffs from his overnight bag, tugging on her shoulders to fasten her hands behind her back.
“Spread your legs,” he growled. “I want to see your wet pussy when I come.”
She did as he commanded, but he pushed her inner thighs even further apart until she’d fully exposed her swollen lips, her muscles objecting to the taut stretch. Taking his shaft in his own palm, he slid across its length to deny her the experience, and it grew even bigger until a small trickle of wetness glistened at the end.
Pulling her forward by the hair, he pushed his dick to her lips until she opened for him, and he filled her to the back of her mouth, drawing her face closer to his crotch. She instinctively pulled away, but he was relentless, yanking even harder on her hair until her scalp tingled with a sharp pain. He pushed further into her mouth and caused her to gag, but she took everything he gave her.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” he said without inflection. “I’ve been too lenient, allowing you to take too many liberties, but that comes to an end tonight. Do you understand?” Her humiliation was too deep and her regrets were too powerful to even nod. Still holding her in place, Luka moved his hips to slide his shaft across her tongue and along the roof of her mouth, using her mouth as his cunt.
His fucking was simultaneously erotic and unsettling, and her clit begged for attention that never came. Without his stimulation, her arousal became her punishment, refusing to find a focal point and defeating the burgeoning pleasure. Her breasts were untouched, and her pussy a barren, lonely emptiness that desperately wanted what her mouth was forced to accept. This was for his pleasure, not hers.
Pulling hard on her hair, he fucked her until he came, releasing his seed with a groan and forcing her to swallow. When he’d finished, he pulled away, wiping his dick across her cheek to leave behind the sweet smell of his cum while she continued to struggle against the cuffs burning her wrists.
Using his handcuffs and a long piece of nylon rope, he pushed her to the bed and restrained her to the frame. The aching force in her pussy refused to dissipate, leaving her incomplete and inconsolable at that mindless, frustrating place where nothing was achieved.
“This will keep you from touching that swollen clit,” he said. “Your pleasure is mine to give and mine to withhold. You are never protected just because you are in a crowd. You’ve agreed to be subservient to my demands, and that will happen whether we are alone or with somebody else. Do you understand?”
He was right. When she’d entered this relationship, she’d fully understood he didn’t come with an on-off switch. This lifestyle had never been a game to him, making it even more obvious she’d overstepped her clearly defined role and disappointing him and herself. She nodded and lowered her chin. “Da, ser.”
With a nod of approval, Luka picked up his shirt and left the room, leaving her alone with her aching pussy and deepest, deepest regrets.
Chapter Thirteen
It was already dark when Luka gently shook her shoulder, rousing her from a deep sleep. Mia rubbed her eyes, but her immediate need to please him caused her to pull sharply against her restraints.
“Hush, koshka,” he said, gently undoing her cuffs and rubbing her wrists. “It is all over. The lesson has been taught, and you will have the discipline to obey the next time. Even the unfilled ache in your pussy has subsided, so it is time to move forward.”
Desperate to find his comfort, Mia flung herself into his arms. “I’m sorry, Luka. I shouldn’t have challenged you.”
He took the time to hold her, rubbing her back as she settled into a drowsy, happier state. She would have been content to stay in his arms all night, but he gently set her aside to turn on some lights. “Come. The boys will be here soon, and we need to get you ready for this party. You will enjoy tonight, I promise.”
Leading her to the tub filled with steamy, hot water and pulsing massage jets, he pinned up her hair and bathed her, running the soap over her breasts and across her shaved pussy while the force of the water pounded her tense muscles. After her bath, he wrapped her into the soft robe and instructed her to do her makeup while he dressed in a sharply creased tux. He handed her a pair of solid gold cufflinks with sparkly diamonds and waited until she’d fastened the links and matching button covers to his shirt before she straightened his silky black tie.
With a shy smile, she stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You look amazing, Luka. You should wear a tux every night.”
“Come, koshka, now I am getting you ready,” he responded. She took a pair of lace panties from her suitcase, but he tossed them aside with a grin. “They will not be necessary.”
The dark navy full-length gown he’d purchased for her was made from a soft, silky fabric, and was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The sheer bodice would reveal a hint of skin without making her feel exposed, but the swirling silver beading would disguise her breasts and eliminate the need for a bra.
He cut off the tags and dropped them into the trash. “What if it doesn’t fit?” she asked, biting her lower lip and trying to look at the wastebasket to catch a glimpse of the cost.
“It will fit,” he said confidently. “And just in case, I’ve already paid a seamstress who can come here to make a last-minute adjustment, but I don’t anticipate a problem. I took excellent measurements when you were tied to my wheel.”
She held up her arms while he dressed her, the cool, shimmering fabric sliding past her hips to envelop her in beauty, but as he zippered the back, her discomfort grew without reason. Looking in the mirror, she felt like a fraud, a child playing dress-up in a world where she didn’t belong. This was Luka’s secret life, the place where he existed in a darkness she didn’t understand, and the people at this party would all be wealthier and more self-confident than she, but she struggled to find words he would accept.
“I... I don’t think I can do this, Luka,” she said, her stomach churning in knots. “Please don’t make me.”
“Why?” he said, his neutral tone giving her no indication of his mood. “Give me one good reason why you don’t you want to attend this party? Be—”
“You just don’t understand,” she interrupted, raising her voice. “Please, let me stay here. I’ll be good, I promise.”
“You’re coming, and there will be no arguments.” His tone rose to match hers as his calmness evaporated. “There will b
e hundreds of people there, including myself and my cousins. You will be safe, I promise. Stop, before I show you what a hairbrush can do over the fabric of your gown.”
Luka took her hard plastic brush from the nightstand, delivering a few smacks against his palm to fully define his message, but the panicked tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I can’t do this,” she said desperately. “I don’t belong at places like this. I’m just a trailer park kid from western New York.”
“Has this been the root cause of your unhappiness?” he asked, lowering the brush. “Do you not spend the money for fear of extravagance or because you feel you are undeserving? You are an amazing woman, and I am proud to have you by my side. Now, sit so I can finish your hair.”
“My what?” Her head whipped around in confusion.
When she didn’t move, he slapped the brush against his thigh, making her jump. “I’m not asking again, koshka. I would think that you have learned your lesson concerning obedience after this afternoon.”
She wiped the tears with her fingertips in a last-ditch effort to save her mascara and sat at the small desk. From the crown of her head all the way to the end, he worked the brush through her long hair, separating it into sections to stroke every strand.
“I wanted to do something beautiful for you,” he said softly, “and Google said this was easy. Trust me. I practiced on both Zoya and her housekeeper the last time I was in New York. My cousins were ruthless assholes, but if you don’t like it, I reserved a place for you at the salon, and we can still get it done before the reception.”
As he worked, he stopped to kiss the back of her neck before moving to her lips, caressing her face, and murmuring in Russian, soft comforts that needed no translation to convey his compassion. In deep concentration, he pulled the hair gently to one side, slipping old-fashioned metal bobby pins to rub against her scalp. Using more hairspray than she’d ever used in her life, he swept her hair upward in a twisting swirl that exposed the nape of her neck and fastened the knot to her head. Pulling gently at her ears, he found her piercings and attached a heavy pair of earrings, holding his wrists at an angle so she never caught a glimpse of the trinkets.
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