To Have and to Master
Page 6
He was glad the air was warm that night. He’d insisted on driving Varushka in his own car so they could make a quick getaway if needed. The other four piled into Ambrose’s SUV. Varushka’s legs were bare and she hadn’t wanted to wear a coat because Kate and Everly weren’t. She was taking this “looking American” thing seriously. As she settled in next to him, she gripped his hand as though they were on the plane again. He told her silly Russian jokes until she giggled.
“We can go home anytime, you know,” he reminded her. “No one will be angry with you.”
“No. I want to see what you like. After what we did today, I think I’m ready.”
Oh, brother. Oh, brother? Fuck, she was even making his thoughts PG. Next he’d use the word “golly” in a sentence, and Ambrose would never let him live it down.
Protectiveness for the girl filled him, making him tense and uncertain. He hadn’t gotten where he was in life by being uncertain, but when it came to Varushka, the weighed risk-taking of a business decision seemed simple and unimportant. With her, he wanted to seduce her and defile her, but also wanted to protect her from being sullied by himself and his world. Thoughts of good and evil, of selfishness and altruism, funneled through him. He knew he couldn’t have both, and yet wanted both desperately.
He could choose to be a good man or he could choose to be a happy man.
Being put in the situation where he’d have to be the one to make the decision was too much temptation for someone so flawed. Konstantin was and always would be a sinner. She deserved better.
The low lighting at The Catacombs lent to its creepy goth mystique. Kate followed Banner submissively into the main room, the leash he always clipped to her collar in public BDSM environments completely unnecessary. They’d teased him about it enough that once he’d shown up with no leash, and when Kate had found out, she insisted they go home to get it. It had started out being Banner’s kink, but now it was like Kate’s safety blanket.
As for bratty Miss Everly, she made enough of an entrance that she could almost be mistaken for a high-profile Domme. She dressed like one, but Ambrose liked her in leather, thought her bratting was hilarious, and now that Konstantin had gotten to know her, he had to agree. Despite her saucy personality, boots, and fishnets, Ambrose made sure to put her in her place now and then. He said it was to keep her inner brat in check, but Kon wondered if it also served to discourage men from begging her to top them. Even when she was wearing Ambrose’s collar, they still tried.
Ambrose and Everly hung out at The Catacombs so often that the two of them had more or less become the unofficial dungeon welcoming committee.
Konstantin, however, had hardly attended since breaking up with Anna and Sindee. It was hard enough being celibate before Varushka finally came over from Russia without tempting himself with the interested submissives who always lurked nearby, hoping to attract his attention.
They made their way toward their favorite table, and within a few steps Varushka had tucked herself into Konstantin’s armpit, staring around them with wide eyes. As they sat on one of the booth’s smooth leather benches, he had to untangle from her so he didn’t end up crushing her leg. He let her hide under his arm again as soon as they were settled, and she peered out at the room’s activities as though he’d abducted her from Earth and brought her to Mars.
“Remember we told you about the Saint Andrew’s crosses and spanking benches and everything?” Everly pointed at various pieces of equipment around the room. “The first time I was here with Ambrose, he made me stand in the corner right there.” She gestured to a corner near the booth. “I couldn’t decide whether he was a complete asshole or I wanted to have his babies.”
“Both.” Ambrose winked at her and Everly playfully shoved his arm.
“I doubt Banner would take me off leash long enough to give me corner time.” Kate laughed.
Konstantin eyed Banner who only looked smug. “Hell, I’m surprised he doesn’t make you go to work like that.”
He looked over at Varushka, wondering what she thought of standing in the corner and aching to find out by putting her there.
Despite his friends doing their best to make Varushka feel at home by engaging her in conversation, and explaining some of what was going on, she still seemed aghast an hour later. She had melted into the cushion behind him not long after they’d arrived and didn’t seem any more comfortable after she had time to get used to the place.
Crap.
“This is late for you. Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” Konstantin whispered to her, hoping she’d want to leave. Traumatizing the poor girl wasn’t exactly how he’d hoped the evening would go. Things had progressed between them, but that had only been today. He’d been a fool to introduce her to The Catacombs so soon.
“No,” she replied, but said nothing more. Her attention was drawn to a caning that was underway. The way her tiny fingers dug into Konstantin’s leg she had to be hurting herself, but she didn’t seem to notice. When the woman was screaming, but still hadn’t safeworded, Varushka spoke again. “This place reminds me of the stories my priest used tell us about Hell when I was little girl.”
Fucking perfect. He couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he just gave her a squeeze and waited for her to process that mental connection.
“Would you like to do that to me?”
How could he answer that without scaring the fuck out of her?
“We’d have to see what you were interested in first. I’d never start off with that, and I’d never do that without your permission. Besides, even if you gave me permission, you would still have a safeword to make me stop.” He jiggled her teasingly. “That woman has a safeword but she’s not using it, even though she could tell the man to stop anytime.” Coming to places like this was supposed to be enjoyable, otherwise what would be the point? She saw a torture chamber rather than a place to unwind. At least she wasn’t trying to get away from him. Hopefully that was a good sign.
At last the caning stopped. The man helped the woman up from the spanking bench she’d been lying on and embraced her, petting her hair and kissing her face. The woman smiled up at him shakily, and Varushka frowned at the exchange, as though the tenderness confused her more than the caning had.
“You see? Consensual and voluntary.” Konstantin patted her knee and rested his hand there. The touch made her quiver, as though he was running a hand over her naked body rather than just resting it on her knee. “Yes, he was caning her, but either she enjoys being caned or she allowed him to do it to please him. Maybe she was in trouble for something, or maybe the pain just makes her feel good.”
At the next table over, a Dominant was frowning at his kneeling submissive. From his body language Konstantin could tell shit was about to hit the fan. He tried to get Varushka into his lap and facing him before she saw what was going on, but she’d already noticed. He pulled her into his lap anyway and wrapped his arms around her to give her somewhere safe to hide.
“That girl is in trouble with her man, I think.”
“Yes, I saw that. I think he’s either her Dom or her Master.”
“Master? Like she’s his . . . slave?” She wrinkled her nose.
“People who do things like this, where one person has power over the other, have special names for their relationships. If he’s her Dom, that means he’s the one in charge of their relationship. She does what he says, and is his submissive.” He wondered how much to tell her and how fast. Maybe talking about the dynamics between his friends would be helpful. “Banner and Ambrose are Masters to Kate and Everly. For them it means their women submit to them more deeply, and that they have more control over them than they would in a typical Dominant/submissive relationship. The titles people use mean different things to different people.”
She glanced at his friends and chewed on her bottom lip, as though she was processing the information. “So is that what you like to do too? Boss girls around?”
“Only if they want me
to.”
Her body relaxed a bit and he liked the way she felt against him. “But what’s that submissive in trouble for? They’ve been there since we came in, so what could she have done wrong?” She frowned and Konstantin couldn’t help but kiss her brow. “And why has she been kneeling at his feet like she’s going to shine his shoes?”
Konstantin had to force himself not to laugh out loud, but his amusement probably showed on his face. “Well, if they’ve been there the whole time, maybe she said something disrespectful to him, or refused to do something for no good reason. Maybe they just like being in those positions. It’s hard to say.” He shrugged and kissed her lips, unable to resist her when she looked so puzzled and sweet. A wave of affection for the girl caught him by surprise. She kissed him back, but pulled away before it became a serious PDA. “She kneels at his feet to show him respect,” he whispered in her ear.
Varushka shivered.
“She knows her place. Do you see her collar? They mean different things in different situations, but with those two, I think it means she belongs to him, like Kate and Everly belong to Banner and Ambrose.”
The Dominant reached down and grabbed the girl by the hair, then hauled her over his lap. The girl was wearing a short skirt that left little to the imagination—and even less in the position she was in.
Shakily, Varushka licked her lips, then nibbled on the end of her finger.
The man started to spank the girl, who wriggled but knew better than to try to get away. Because they were so close, the sound of his palm connecting with her ass was audible over the music coming from the speakers. Konstantin could feel Varushka’s warmth leeching through the PVC of her skirt. She sat stiffly, her eyes fixed on the spanking, her breathing rapid.
“Remember, she can make it stop anytime she wants.” It might not have been completely true. Some submissives gave decisions about punishment over completely to their Doms—slaves especially. But even then, they could leave the relationship anytime, and there was always room for negotiation. Varushka didn’t need to know all that now though. Plus, in a public club, safewords were always respected.
Surprisingly, she didn’t seem afraid anymore. Instead, he felt her rock her pussy against his thigh, seeking relief.
Oh fuck.
Konstantin let his impatient hand slide just under the edge of her skirt to rest on her thigh. Rather than being flustered, her legs parted, just enough to let him know what she wanted. The idea of fingering her right then and there made him instantly hard. He kissed her neck and she squirmed against him, but didn’t take her eyes off the other couple.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Ambrose subtly point out Varushka’s reaction to Banner, and he glared at them. If they said fuck all, and ruined this for her, he’d beat them.
“What do you think he is saying to her?” Varushka mused.
“Maybe he’s telling her what a bad girl she is, or maybe that her pretty body is his to do with as he pleases.”
Varushka gasped, but it went no farther than Kon’s ears. “That isn’t anything like spankings I’ve seen. He’s not treating her like a child at all.” Her voice was breathy and made his cock strain to get at her. “Tell me more. What else would he say?”
“‘If you weren’t a bad girl, I wouldn’t have to do this.’”
She wriggled forward until his hand was more than halfway up her thigh. “Uh-huh?”
“And if you’re a good girl for me, you get orgasms.” He imagined he could already feel the warmth from her pussy on his fingertips.
“What about me? Am I . . . a good girl, Sir?” she asked in a throaty whisper, her eyes more seductive than any innocent girl’s had a right to be.
“Very.” Could he tell what panties she was wearing, just by touching them? Was she wearing panties at all? He cleared his throat and pulled his hand back from its assent. “We’ll talk about this later, little bird. Right now we both need to calm down.”
Varushka’s ragged and frustrated mewl still echoed in his ears hours later.
He was a gentleman. He wouldn’t take her virginity in the back of his car.
Damn it.
Chapter Five
Konstantin turned the air conditioner on in the car as they drove down the highway back toward his house, but it didn’t cool her down. Something stirred in Varushka that was so intense it scared her. What was happening? Was the wetness between her legs a result of being in America, or maybe jet lag? She refused to believe it was from the depraved things she’d seen at the club. Impossible. Those things weren’t . . . natural. Maybe they were okay for Everly and Kate, but not for a girl like Varushka.
She shuddered as she thought of the dark words Konstantin had murmured in her ear at the club, and how much she’d wanted him to give her an orgasm right there, even though they’d been surrounded by strangers.
For her entire life she’d thought of herself as a good girl, but maybe she wasn’t good at all. Behaving herself was hard when Konstantin showed her so many wicked things that made her ache with need.
How far down the path of temptation would he lead her? She would have to be vigilant.
Still, she couldn’t seem to talk herself out of placing her hand between her legs to relieve the ache. Just a little.
A dark chuckle came from the driver’s seat. Cheeks burning, she yanked her hand back. She’d almost forgotten he was there!
Where is your sense, Varushka?
“Keep going,” he ordered.
Shocked, she looked at him. “I . . . I wasn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me. You were about to touch yourself.”
She clamped her mouth shut, then turned toward the window to avoid his gaze. There must be something wrong with her. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t how her mama and papa raised her. God, how she missed home. The familiarity, everything in its rightful place. No wicked, seductive men to persuade her to do naughty things.
“What’s turning you on, Varushka?” he asked, softly.
When she didn’t answer, he smiled kindly. “Tell me.”
Her hands trembled but she couldn’t make herself speak.
He seemed to sense that and put his big hand over hers. It calmed her, made her feel protected again. “You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he said. “It pleases me when you tell me what you like. It’s important for a man to know what his woman likes.”
She swallowed hard. She wanted to please him, and she wanted him to like her. Maybe Americans were used to speaking openly about such things. If she wanted to be American, she had to learn their ways.
“Um. I don’t know.”
He moved his hand from on top of hers and slid it up her thigh. Her eyes widened as she watched. More heat found its way between her legs. She squirmed in the seat, unable to help herself. His hand inched higher, then slipped under her skirt.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice ragged.
“You know what made you wet, little girl,” he purred. “Something at the club. You can tell me.”
How could he expect her to concentrate with his fingers so close to her panties? She squeezed her thighs together, partly to deter him, partly to make the pulsing stop. He nudged them back apart, then let his hand creep further up so his knuckles brushed against her privates.
She moaned.
The nasty man traced a fingertip up and down the seam of her sex, pushing the thin fabric of her panties between the folds. He found the pulsing bud nestled in between and rubbed there with a teasing lightness that made her pant.
Varushka gripped the seat hard, tipping her hips toward his touches. The skirt she wore had slid up to her hips, but she didn’t care. She strained against the seat belt, feeling trapped in a way that made her hotter. She tried to get his fingers to press harder, but he kept teasing until his every gentle touch was like an electric shock buzzing through her suffering body.
“Konstantin! Please!” she begged.
“Sir,” he growled. “If you want me to give you what you nee
d, you will call me Sir.”
“Please, Sir,” she panted. “Stop.”
He pulled his hand away. “Stop?”
Did she truly want him to stop? Her chest heaved and she squirmed on the seat, so taken by desperation that she was more than willing to beg for his touch. No wonder unmarried girls spread their legs for men when they could take control of a girl’s body and make it so horribly needy. Earlier, at his house, she’d wanted to lie with him. She thought she’d regained control, but here again she was ready to let him do anything.
Boys in Nasva were never expected to remain untouched until marriage, yet girls were. Why did all of the hard decisions land on the girls? But Konstantin wasn’t a village boy. He was an American who lived by American rules. He hadn’t seemed to think less of her after they’d fooled around at his house. There was no one here reminding her to be good. No one anywhere could expect her to resist such a man forever. It wasn’t fair.
The touches he’d stopped still tingled along the sensitive parts of her, and her soaked panties were still wedged up between her folds, pressing against her center of pleasure, making it throb and cry out to her for attention. How could his gentle touches cause so much pain yet so much pleasure?
“Tell me what made you needy and I’ll make you feel good.”
She whimpered. “Okay. The spanking.”
“Good girl. What else?”
“The . . . the hair.”
“Hair pulling?”
She gulped, then nodded. Oh god. She was going to orgasm again. In his car! Her body squirmed in the seat. His hand moved back between her legs and she ground against it. To her mortification, she couldn’t stop herself. It was as though he had some magic power over her, over her body. It was like he owned her.
“Bozhe moi,” she mumbled, then cursed incoherently under her breath.
He pulled the car over on the side of the road. His hand slipped inside the waistband of her panties and slid slowly downward, as though he was giving her time to object. Forget objecting, mentally she was screaming at him to hurry. He tugged the fabric of her panties out of her slit, almost triggering her orgasm just with that.