Trafficked

by Alexis Abbott

  “Yes, Daddy. You make me beautiful.”

  “I do. And I will give you pleasure beyond what your sweet girlish heart can even conceive of. I will bring you to the edge of ecstasy again and again. I will carry you over that great hill and we will swim in the placid waters of pleasure together if you accept my love.”

  Tears of joy burn in my eyes. I know what I want. I only have to ask for it.

  “Please, Daddy. I want it. I need it. I need you.”

  “Have you earned it, malyshka?”

  “Yes, please. I have been such a good girl.”

  “Then you will receive my greatest gift.”

  “Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Daddy…”

  “Thank you,” I murmur sleepily, my eyelids fluttering as I struggle to open my eyes. The hazy orange light of dawn is faintly filtering through my eyelids, prodding me awake.

  I am so peaceful and comfortable right now, cocooned in the warm, cozy blankets on this insanely comfortable bed, rocked gently by the rhythm of the ocean waves. We are far, far away from our troubles, and in this place, we are alone together. No interruptions. No worries. Just my body curled up against his—and my dream, I realize, is coming true.

  Vladimir’s rough hands are sliding up and down along the length of my naked body. I let out a satisfied groan and wiggle my ass back against him, taking great pleasure in the way my little machinations are rewarded with a deep, animalistic growl from the man beside me. He noses into the soft baby hair at the nape of my neck, drawing slow, deep whiffs as though he’s trying to drink up my particular scent, like he’s addicted to it and cannot ever get enough.

  It’s a ticklish feeling, the tip of his nose and the soft, barely-there kiss of his lips on my sensitive skin. I giggle and shiver in his arms, moaning when he gently grazes my flesh with his teeth. Part of me wishes he would just bite down, clamp onto my delicate pale skin and puncture a vein, lap up my life blood and claim me as his own with my crimson staining those perfectly sensuous lips, dripping from his teeth. In my dying throes I would be twisted up with pleasure. What a way to go. If I have to die, I will gladly offer up my last breath to him.

  I don’t know what it is, whether it’s magic or madness or some miasma in the air, but he has me utterly addicted. I crave his touch, and I want to press every inch of my body against his, feel his hardness aching and pulsing between us, desperate for release. I want him to mark me up, use my milky skin as his canvas, my blood his ink. I could write pages and pages of poetry just about the way his cock feels sliding up and down against my soft ass cheek. He murmurs my name against the shell of my ear, making me squirm with delight.

  His hands slide around my body to grope my full, supple breasts. He caresses and massages them in the palms of his hands, the roughness of his calloused fingertips like electricity when he rubs friction into my sensitive, perky nipples. As he gropes me, I moan and whimper like a little kitten, pouting and pushing for more, more, always more. I want his hands all over my body, feeling me up, using me for his own pleasure.

  “You feel so damn good, malyshka,” Vladimir growls in my ear.

  “Am I still dreaming?” I ask faintly, my voice scratchy with need.

  “No, Autumn, this is not a dream. I am really here, and so are you,” he hisses. I shudder and push back against him even harder. He groans his approval and I find myself entranced when I notice for the first time the inky designs etched into the muscles of his arms as they curl around me. I can’t follow the lines clearly enough to make sense of them, but I find myself oddly aroused by the knowledge that he has tattoos, as well as some raised scars, healed after some violent battle.

  Maybe it’s the idea of him withstanding that pain, a look of pure stoicism on his face. He probably didn’t even flinch, not even when that unrelenting needle pricked crimson blood from his skin, not even when his entire limb thrummed with agony. I lick my lips and turn my head slightly so that he can brace himself up on one elbow and kiss me. His tongue probes gently into my mouth, our lips crashing together as we moan and growl in shared pleasure. He slides the tattooed arm down the front of my writhing form, two fingers outstretched to sink into the soft, slick folds of my flower.

  “Oh my god,” I whimper wantonly. “That feels… so good.”

  “I know, malyshka. I know. Your little pussy is so wet for me, for your daddy,” Vladimir snarls fiendishly. “You were dreaming about me, weren’t you?”

  I nod slowly, my lips parted to let out a soft sigh. “Yes, sir. I was dreaming about you. About you touching me… making me feel—oh my god. So good,” I gasp.

  He chuckles, the sound rolling vibrations down my body as I lie in his arms, scarcely remembering how to even breathe as his fingers find my sensitive little clit. He starts to lightly circle it with his fingertips, applying only the faintest pressure, almost teasing me. I poke out my bottom lip in a pout and he leans in to lightly bite it.

  Another shockwave of incredible bliss rockets through my body and I can’t help but roll my hips in tandem with his fingers, urging him to touch me more, touch me harder. He massages my clit in perfect rhythm, my breaths coming short and ragged as I get closer and closer to orgasm. Tears prickle in the corners of my eyes, my whole body starting to shake.

  “Do you deserve to come, little girl?” Vladimir hisses.

  I nod vigorously. “Oh, yes. Yes, please. Give it… to me…”

  “Do you want me to fuck you, Autumn?” he asks in a low growl.

  “I do. I need it,” I whimper, my legs trembling. I can feel his massive cock pressing hard against my ass as he rocks into me, every now and then the engorged head brushing lightly over my aching opening. I want him inside of me. Now.

  “Say it. Say the words,” he demands in a whisper.

  “I want you to fuck me, Daddy,” I reply desperately. “Please fuck my tight little pussy. I belong to you. I’m all yours. Take me. Please.”

  Evidently, I have struck upon the magic word. Because after that, Vladimir grunts as he repositions himself slightly. He lifts my leg up and pulls it back slightly, hooking over his hip while he guides the head of his twitching member to my hole. I hold my breath, trembling with the overwhelming need to be filled up and fucked mercilessly.

  I’m in luck. This time, he doesn’t make me wait.

  He slides deftly inside of me, both of us groaning and shuddering with intense delight as his cock is fully sheathed within me. He does not start slowly. Within seconds, Vladimir is already pistoning into me hard and fast, his cock pulsing inside of my clenched cunny as I cry out and buck against him. He slips one arm down underneath me, poking a finger into my mouth for me to suck on while I moan and give in to the waves of pleasure mingled with just that perfect, delicious edge of pain. His cock slides in and out of me, striking deep within my pussy with every stroke while his other hand drapes over me to massage my clit.

  I suck on his fingers eagerly, loving the sensation of Vladimir plugging two of my holes at once. He fucks me fast and deep, slamming into my precious, sweet spot every single time without fail. It’s like he knows precisely how to move, how to angle it so that I receive the maximum amount of pleasure possible. He’s a genius, fucking me with all the passion of a poet and the understanding of a great philosopher. I am overwhelmed with the enticing knowledge that he is in total control of me. He can do whatever he wants with my body, and I will let him.

  “Oh, Daddy,” I gasp as he fucks me faster and faster, slamming into me without holding back at all. Finally, I feel him start to tense up around me.

  “I’m going to come, malyshka. Do you deserve it?” he growls.

  I nod and suck on his fingers harder. “Yes. Oh yes. Please,” I mumble around his fingers.

  “I am going to come, and you will, too. At the same time. On the count of three. Can you do that for me, little girl?” he commands.

  “Yes! Yes, oh god. Yes!” I burst out breathlessly.

  “Da. Very good girl. One,” he starts, slamming into
me even harder so that I’m seeing stars. “Two… and three.”

  “Oh my god! I’m coming!” I exclaim breathily, my entire body convulsing with pleasure as I feel my orgasm collide with his. I feel his cock explode inside of me, pumping every last precious drop of his sticky seed inside my clenching, aching hole. He holds me tight, rubbing my clit through the aftershocks so that I come again and again in rapid succession, until finally I go totally limp in his arms, totally spent.

  Vladimir kisses me softly on the lips and then gets out of bed, stretching. I roll over so as to go after him but he holds up a hand to stop me. “No, no. Stay there, Autumn. Stay in bed. Be comfortable. I have to attend to something on deck,” he says gently.

  “But I… I want to be with you,” I pout.

  He smiles and cups my cheek in his hand. I lean into the warmth of his palm.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t be far. I have to bring the ship into port,” he explains, stepping away to pull on his clothes. My stomach twists with anxiety.

  “Port? We’re going into a harbor?” I ask.

  “Da,” he answers simply.

  “But why? Are you going somewhere? Are you taking me somewhere? Are you going to give me away? I-I don’t want to go, Vladimir. I want to stay with you,” I protest.

  “Everything is just fine, little one. I promise. All is well. I just have some business to take care of. Supplies to get,” he explains.

  “But… why can’t I go with you, then?” I sigh.

  “Because, my sweet princesa, it will be dangerous. There are bad men here who will be looking for… for me. And that means you are not safe. I will not allow any harm to come to you, okay? That much I can assure you,” he says firmly.

  “Okay. Fine. I’ll stay here, I guess, and just wait for you to return. But can you at least tell me where you’re going? Where are we, Vladimir? What port?” I press him.

  As he strides toward the door to leave, he glances back at me and smiles again, more mischievously this time. “Greece,” he replies, and closes the door behind him.

  Vladimir

  There is no blue more deep and rich than the salty waves of the Aegean Sea.

  I step out of the bridge, dressed in a fresh set of clothes, and I take a deep breath as I look around at the docks of the island of Mykonos. It’s a sight that never gets old.

  The Greek Isles are one of my favorite regions of the world. I have no real explanation for why, besides the obvious—warm sands, clear skies, good food, better people, and a sense of community that goes back for thousands of years. Those are all things that are true of many places in the world, but what can I say? These islands took my heart at a young age, and they never let it go.

  Autumn would love it here.

  It kills me that I cannot bring her with me on this supply run. I see her peering up at me from inside the pool room as I step down the stairs to the deck, then head inside.

  “Are you sure I have to stay in?” she asks for the twelfth time today, looking despondent.

  I frown, approaching her and taking her head in my hands, peering down into those pouting eyes with sympathy and love. Her hair is soft and smooth against my rough hands, and even when it is defiant and sad, the beauty on her face is immaculate.

  “When I was on my way back from Istanbul, I told myself I would bring you with me on the next trip,” I say, and it’s an honest statement. “Not long after that thought crossed my mind, a hit squad of five of your kidnapper’s cronies tried to gun me down outside a liquor store.”

  She looks a little downcast. I take her chin and tilt her face back up to me, and I give her the warmest smile I can muster.

  “Your mind is an astounding thing, Autumn. It is quicker and more poetic than any other I’ve encountered, and it amounts to an intellect I would trust with my life. But when the barrel of a gun is trained on you, there are only a few things that might save you. And this,” I say, gesturing to my muscular body, “is one of them. That, and more years of experience in this kind of lifestyle than you’ve been alive. Trust me when I say, this is for your own good. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I do,” she admits, nodding, and she gives a half-smile to show she isn’t too broken up. “It’s hard to tell my brain that this isn’t actually a luxury cruise across the Mediterranean.”

  “No? I would have thought a trail of dead mobsters who tried to imprison you would be right up your alley.”

  She laughs at that, despite herself, and I ruffle her hair affectionately.

  “Stay inside as much as you can,” I say more firmly, holding out an authoritative finger.

  “What if I want to lounge by the water?” she asks, but her tone is teasing.

  She knows her limits, she just likes flirting with them. I give her a wicked grin, and I approach her with heavy steps, backing her up against a wall and watching the blush blooming on her cheeks. I lean against the wall with one solid arm thrust right beside her head before I lean in to glare at her.

  “Then I will have to discipline you when I get back, little girl,” I growl. “I’ll let you think that over while I am gone. Be a good girl, or I’ll treat you like a bad girl.”

  Her face is pink when I step away from her, and I make my way out of the room and off the ship, heart pounding and cock half-stiff, thanks to the promise I’ve left her with.

  The port of Mykonos is actually a ways away from the city itself, so I catch a cab into town. My Greek is a little rusty, but most of the locals here speak English. One of the perks of hiding out in a tourist hotspot is that hiding in plain sight is much simpler. You have to do very little to blend in, because people of all walks of life are already milling around. After a short ride, the cabby lets me out at a spot that seems to be where a lot of tourists get dropped off, and I take off on foot.

  The city of Mykonos proper is not a bustling metropolis by any stretch of the imagination, but it is known for its beauty. Shining white buildings glitter in the sunlight with an almost alien beauty. Nearly clear azure water laps lazily at the brownstone docks where smaller sailing vessels bob idly, waiting for tourists drunk on sangria to come stumbling back on for a little fun in private. The smell of citrus and wine is rich in the air already.

  … and all I can think about is how dearly I’d love to have Autumn with me, seeing all of this. I keep wanting to reach out to my side and grasp her small hand in mine. I’d point out some of the restaurants and bars I’ve gone to, tell her which ones have the best food and drink, and which ones have the best views of the sunset. I’d take her to each and every one of them if I had the time, and I’d treat her like a queen.

  I pause by the water for a moment, and I run a hand through my hair, gazing out at the water toward the yacht in the distance. By god, I’m falling for this girl, aren’t I?

  I shake the thought out of my mind as I head further into the city to find the shop I’m looking for. Like the one I stopped by in Istanbul, it is a place that is used to dealing with luxury yachts that are in need of bulk quantities of fine food and drink. It doesn’t take me long to find the place, and I slip away from the crowds and into the store to handle the humdrum of a routine resupply run.

  Of course, I could be getting more basic supplies. If it were just me, I would be getting some simple, nutritious food that would cost a fraction of the kind of good stock I’m acquiring at this place. But the idea of inflicting that on Autumn sounds downright criminal. And so, I’ve been stocking up on nothing but the best, like a yacht like this deserves. I tell myself that it just looks better for the paper trail.

  A luxury yacht attracts attention, so the best I can do to hide is pretend I’m just another Russian oligarch sailing his pleasure-vessel across the sea in a wake of decadent parties and drunken orgies.

  As I pay for the goods I’ve ordered from the leathery-skinned shopkeeper, I keep glancing out the window, watching for the telltale signs of someone waiting for me. I’ve been glancing over my shoulder since I stepped away from the docks in th
e first place.

  The mafia has a presence in Greece, and I am positive they’re tracking us as best they can. I have to assume there’s a gun waiting around every corner for us, and I have to be quick about getting on and off each stop, or I’ll be up to my neck in our pursuers.

  “Sir?” the man asks, snapping me out of the trance I’d been in while staring out the window. “Did you hear me? There will be a delay of about an hour to get all this down to your ship.”

  “Oh,” I say, giving my head a light shake. “Of course, yes.”

  I pay the man, plus extra for quick service, and I take my leave.

  With a little time to kill, I decide to do a little shopping. If Autumn can’t be with me, then I may as well make the time worth her while. I slip into a few shops along the waterfront and peruse the selections of perfume and jewelry. I’m a good judge of people’s physiques, so I am fairly confident I could pick out clothes in her size, but I don’t get anything too extravagant. I would rather get her finer clothes that are tailored.

  By the end of a quick shopping spree, I’m carrying bags full of a few bottles of tasteful perfumes of different kinds for her to pick from, as well as a lovely silver and topaz necklace for her to try. If she doesn’t like it, we’ll be in Italy soon, and she’ll have her pick of all the jewelry in Florence, if I have my way.

  But there’s still a little time to kill, and there’s one more thing I want to do before I head back to the yacht.

  I slip into an internet cafe, keeping my bags close as I grab a coffee and take a seat at a computer. Glancing around one last time to make sure I’m not being followed, I settle in, tuck my bags between my legs, and take a sip of my coffee to start doing some digging.

  I’m going to find out who Autumn really is.

  Part of me feels guilty for investigating my girl behind her back, but if I’m going to keep her safe, I need to do so with all the information I can possibly get my hands on. That means doing some sleuthing work.