Thane chuckled, glancing back at him and shaking his head. “What, she isn’t masochistic enough for you?”
“She definitely needs more guidance in that area, but…I find it oddly attractive.”
“What is it then?”
“I am in love with her.”
If the news surprised Thane, it didn’t show on his face. He stared out the window again, gazing at Brie tied to the tree in her furry boots. Holding up his glass to her, he said, “She is worthy of your love.”
Rytsar clinked his glass against Thane’s and they downed the vodka together.
Setting his empty glass on the table, Thane told him, “To be honest, old friend, I thought it would happen long before now. But then you’ve had your guard up ever since Tatianna, so it’s understandable.”
Rytsar grabbed the bottle of vodka and poured Thane another glass before filling his. “I did not expect it,” he declared. “But when I took radost moya today it was different—I was different.”
Thane turned his attention back on Brie and stared at her, saying nothing.
“What are your thoughts, comrade?” Rytsar asked when Thane remained silent, worried it had changed the dynamic between them.
Thane glanced back at him with a smirk. “When I invited you to play with us, I accepted this would happen.” He slapped Rytsar soundly on the back. “It was inevitable, old friend.”
Rytsar raised an eyebrow. “So we are still good then, you and I?”
Thane met his gaze before he spoke. “Of course. As far as I’m concerned, it’s only natural that you should love her.”
Rytsar chuckled in relief. Knowing their threesome encounters were not in jeopardy, he was struck by a divine inspiration. Snapping his fingers, he grinned at Thane. “I know what your wedding gift will be.”
“Share,” Thane demanded, looking at him with mistrust. “Practical jokes are not welcomed.”
“Moy droog, I promise you will thank me.”
“As long as it is not a gag gift.”
“In this case, gags will not be required unless you insist.”
“Well, hell…now you have me curious.”
“And thus, the sadist in me is satisfied.”
Thane grumbled good-naturedly, setting his glass back down on the table. “Why don’t we take advantage of the submissive you tied so temptingly against that tree?”
“Let’s,” Rytsar agreed.
Mishka’s Claiming
Entering the dark hallway to the dungeon, Rytsar lit the first torch, not bothering to relight the others. As he slowly approached the dungeon entrance, he heard soft weeping and smiled to himself.
Lea had stayed.
Rytsar opened the creaking iron gate, stating tenderly, “I’m here, Ms. Taylor.”
“I…I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back for me,” she confessed tearfully.
Her earnest distress moved him. “Come,” he ordered as he set down his bag of tools and slid the torch into place on the wall.
Lea stood up, the tears glistening on her cheeks in the firelight. He held out his arms to her, and she glided into them gratefully. Grabbing her tightly, he lifted her up and Lea wrapped her legs around his hips, silently crying on his shoulder.
“Shh…” he whispered huskily. “I would never abandon you, mishka.”
Lea attempted to hold back her tears but let out an anguished sob in the effort. He could feel her terror and could only guess at the demons that lived within her.
“There…there,” he replied gently, touched by her open emotion. Holding her tight, he whispered Russian words of comfort as she released the angst and terror being alone in the dark had caused.
“It is a worthy challenge to face your demons alone.”
Lea nodded on his shoulder, still unable to speak.
“And because you were brave, you shall now be rewarded,” he informed her, setting Lea down gently. He picked up the torch again to light the two pillar candles and the large candelabras set in the corners of the small dungeon.
The flickering of multiple candles filled the dungeon with a warm glow.
Rytsar turned to face her with a sexy smirk. “The light will allow me to better admire your marks.”
“No, I can’t!” Lea cried in a panic, then lowered her gaze to the floor and amended her initial response. “I’m sorry, Rytsar. I cannot have marks.”
“Why the sudden change of heart?” he demanded.
“As much as I would love to wear your marks, I just can’t.”
“We do not begin unless you agree to wear them,” Rytsar stated, staring at Lea intently.
He could see she was warring with herself, wanting what he offered but still afraid to give in to it. It was a common reaction with sadists.
“Where will you place them?” she asked in a hesitant tone.
“I will decorate your back and ass with my adoration.”
He noticed her shudder and smirked to himself. Already she was imagining the burning caress of his instrument…
“Do you consent to my marks, mishka?”
Lea closed her eyes for a moment, but when she looked up at him again, she wore the confident look of a submissive who owned what she desired. “I would be honored to wear marks from the great Rytsar Durov.”
He nodded his approval. “Have you experienced the cat o’ nines before?”
“No.”
“That pleases me,” he said with a smile. Rytsar picked up his bag to open it, and grasped the handle of his ’nines.
He held the instrument out to her and ordered her to smell it.
Lea dutifully leaned forward to take in its scent. She looked at him in surprise but said nothing.
“What do you smell?”
Lea smiled shyly. “It smells like smoke, like an old-fashioned campfire.”
Rytsar thought back to his mansion, which was still in the process of being reconstructed after so much time. Nothing was quick when the Russian government was involved. Fortunately, it was close to being finished because he had plans for the place—if Fate was merciful.
He’d lost practically everything in the fire that had destroyed his ancestral home, but at least this instrument had been spared, and it still carried the subtle aroma of its survival.
“Prepare yourself,” he said with a wicked smile, “for I plan to challenge you. However, I require one thing.”
“What’s that, Rytsar?” she asked breathlessly.
He grinned down at Lea. “Your consent.”
She met his gaze, her eyes luminous with fear. Glancing at his ’nines nervously, she asked, “What if I can’t handle it?”
Rytsar swung the cat o’ nines in the air, the sound of its angry tails cutting the air delightfully cruel. He smiled sweetly when he answered, “That’s why you have the safeword, mishka.”
Lea looked down at the stone floor, building up her courage. He waited patiently, knowing this encounter between them was inevitable. The moment she’d followed him into the dungeon, she had already made her decision.
After several moments, Lea finally nodded to herself and spoke up. “I trust you.”
“My trusting mishka,” he said with a tinge of sarcasm, his laughter dangerous and low. The ominous tenor of it caused goosebumps to rise on her skin. “While it is not misplaced, you may live to regret it.”
Rytsar found it entertaining to mess with a submissive’s mind during a scene. It kept her on her toes and focused exclusively on him.
“Go to the pole and face it with your hands held high.”
As Lea walked over to the well-seasoned pole, the rise in her anxiety filled the room. She positioned herself as he instructed and waited, her breath increasing noticeably as he approached.
Rytsar thrust the handle of his ’nines into his back pocket so his hands were free to chain her to the pole. The ancient chains had a unique rattle as he secured the cuffs around her wrists. These iron restraints were misshapen and thick, attesting to their age and use.
While the dungeon now had the distinct honor of entertaining the Italian BDSM community, it wasn’t that long ago people were imprisoned and tortured within these very walls. It gave the small dungeon a distinct and menacing vibe that Rytsar fed upon.
“First, I will reward you for your bravery. Then I will punish you for my pleasure.”
She nodded, trembling when he stroked her bare shoulder. He growled seductively in her ear. “Have you ever orgasmed to Russian curse words?”
Lea smiled slightly, glancing back at him. “No, Rytsar, I can’t say that I have.”
Rytsar grabbed the back of her neck, grasping it tightly to assert his dominance over her. She instantly relaxed—like a tiny kitten being held by the scruff of the neck. The reaction was pleasing to the Dom in him because it spoke to her instinctual trust.
“I will murmur filthy things as you come, mishka.” He trailed his fingers over her clit as he bit down on her shoulder. Already she was wet.
“Rytsar…” she whispered passionately, inviting his play.
He had to admit there was an alluring chemistry between them. Her feminine scent, which mixed beautifully with the lingering tang of her fear, drew him in. His cock stirred at the thought of her screams echoing down the hallway.
Rytsar pulled the cordless wand from his bag. Although the vibrator did not have the strength of the original wand, it was still capable of demanding multiple orgasms from a woman.
“I want you to be totally relaxed and sated,” he growled in Lea’s left ear, then switched to the other and added, “when the first stroke of my ’nines cuts across your back.”
Lea let out a frightened gasp and then jumped when he turned on the wand, positioning it between her legs.
Rytsar took his time, slowly building up her initial orgasm. He leaned down and began his seduction of her, whispering foul things in Russian using a low, provocative tone.
“Oh…oohhh…” Lea cried out only a few moments later, already on the brink.
Rytsar pulled the wand away from her pussy. “Not so fast, mishka.”
Lea groaned when he bit down on the sensitive part of her neck.
Rytsar backed away for a moment, wanting her body to come down from the edge it was teetering on. Crafting a well-orchestrated orgasm was almost a fetish for him. He derived great pleasure from a woman’s climax, almost as much as fucking the woman herself. It seemed he had a unique talent for giving females memorable orgasms, and he utilized that skill to his full advantage as a sadist. It was the reason they kept coming back for more.
One of his submissives once confessed that his knack for bringing unparalleled pleasure and following it up with addicting pain was like hot spice added to good food—one bite was never enough. Just as one night with Rytsar was never enough…
He returned to Lea, placing the vibrating wand back against her slick pussy. Nibbling on her shoulder, he focused on her climax, moving the tool away every time she tensed for release. After several minutes of purposeful teasing, he rewarded her.
Placing the vibrator firmly on her clit, Rytsar waited for her muscles to tense. Just before she orgasmed, he whispered lustfully the words ‘you pain slut’ in Russian.
“Ty bol’ shlyukha…”
Lea began shaking as the orgasm took over, claiming her reflexes as well as her mind. He left the vibrator on just a few moments longer before removing it, knowing her clit was now unbearably sensitive.
It was important to keep her focused on the fact he was in control.
“Oh my God, my knees are so weak I can’t stand,” she whimpered, swaying in her bonds.
“You will come again for me,” Rytsar ordered, placing the vibrator back on her clit.
“Oh no…” she cried, but quickly relaxed, willingly giving in to the intense vibration.
This time he slowly sank down on one knee to bite her on the ass. Lea shook as a second orgasm rocked though her.
When it was over, he stood back up and fisted her short hair, pulling her head back. “Are you ready for a new reality, Ms. Taylor?”
Lea looked up at him with fear and longing. “Yes.”
“Very well.” Rytsar released her and moved into position, swinging his ’nines to warm up. It was important to relax the muscles when wielding such a powerful instrument. One misplaced swing and you could permanently injure someone.
Rytsar watched Lea as the seconds ticked by—each one seeming more extended and drawn out the longer she was forced to wait for the first stroke.
Normally he started with a flogger and moved to the cat o’ nines, but today he was feeling particularly wicked and horny. The only caress he wanted her to feel would come from these knotted tails. They would demand her focus, mesmerize her with their pain, and carry her to untold heights if she gave in to their cruel touch.
Rytsar cocked his arm back and let the knotted tails fly. When they fell against her virginal back, the shriek she let out called to his soul. “That was only a lick, mishka.”
He let the next few strokes fall with the same power, crisscrossing the lashes on her back. Although a sadist, he understood the importance of warming up the body for more intense play. It was important that the experience be pleasurable for them both.
Already her cries had softened as her body acclimated to the bite and sting of his cat ’o nines. It allowed him to hear the seductive sound of the thud as each tail landed on her skin.
“Would you like it harder?” he asked.
“Yes,” came her whisper just before she tensed in her bonds.
Rytsar smiled, swinging his ’nines close to her face so she would feel the cool air whip against her cheek.
She whimpered in surprise, expecting the shock of contact, and then broke out in giggles.
Oh yes, playing with subs was worthy entertainment: the creative control he was given could not be replicated in the outside world. This was his domain, he was ruler over every action, every reaction. Nothing could touch him here but the sweet cries of his sub.
Rytsar increased the power of his stroke just as Lea had instructed, and fresh screams filled the room, making his cock stir with lust. He watched her tremble, her entire back beaded in perspiration.
Was there anything more beautiful?
After several more strokes, he stopped and moved up to her, taking in the alluring smell of her fear and sweat.
“I yearn to challenge you further.”
Her whole body shuddered when he touched her throat lightly and tasted her salty skin. Without waiting for her answer, Rytsar put the handle of his cat o’ nines in her mouth and picked up the vibrator. He ran his hand down her thigh as he positioned it against her mound and turned the tool on. Her head rolled back slowly and she moaned as he began rubbing it against her wet clit.
Then he began to bite her throat, lightly at first. Her moans became panting gasps as he bit down harder and she came for him again, washing his hand in a flood of her excitement.
Rytsar let out a primal growl, biting forcefully as he pressed the vibrator against her again, demanding yet another orgasm. Lea did not resist, crying out as the fourth orgasm claimed her.
He turned off the tool and asked her lustfully, “Do you accept my challenge, my courageous mishka?”
She nodded her head slowly, caught up in the sub-high overtaking her.
He took the ’nines from her mouth and kissed her gently on the cheek before moving away.
Rytsar could tell she was close to her limit. It was only her curiosity and desire to please that kept her from crying out her safeword. No one could know their true limits without being tested, and he thoroughly enjoyed playing that role.
Any sub willing to offer themselves to the sadist Rytsar Durov was going to be tested, and hopefully would come away from the experience more fully aware.
“You will remember this day,” he told her solemnly as he readied to strike.
Two solid strokes, that’s all he gave her, knowing that was all she could bear. Lea cried out in pain
and began sobbing.
Rytsar put down his ’nines and returned to her, lightly grazing the new marks on her back. He smiled as he traced the angry raised welts he had created, having been careful not to break the skin.
Those marks would last a long time, as would the bite mark on her neck. He wanted her to remember her surrender to him—and to be reminded it of it every time she looked in the mirror.
Lea’s sobs quieted as he began kissing her shoulder. “I am a cruel Master, but I can be tender too, mishka.”
His cock ached for her as he explored Lea’s trembling naked body. “I lust for you,” he murmured seductively. He unzipped his leather pants to release his hard cock before spreading her legs apart and pushing the head of his shaft against her drenched pussy.
She turned her head toward him slowly, her eyes luminous and glazed over with passion. “Claim me…Rytsar…” she begged, her speech slow and drawn out, an effect of the endorphins flowing in her veins.
In answer, he pushed the head of his cock inside her, closing his eyes for a moment to savor the erotic sensation of her hot pussy embracing the length of his shaft. It was a feeling like no other.
With his cock buried deep inside her, Rytsar unbound her wrists and placed them behind her back. Holding on to them for leverage, he began fucking her. He started out slowly, sinking his cock in deeply and grinding before pulling out. He wanted her pussy to be reminded repeatedly that it was his.
She moaned in pleasure, pressing her body against the pole to push her pelvis out farther to receive even deeper thrusts.
He began pumping her slowly, rubbing the ridge of his cock against her swollen G-spot. Using his calf muscles, he lifted himself to get a better angle, and her moans instantly became louder and more passionate. Knowing he had the right spot, he did not change the pace, but occasionally surprised her by pushing in to the hilt.
She was like putty in his hands as he built up her next orgasm. When he was ready, he simply stayed still and relished the feel of her subtle pulsations before her inner muscles started contracting rhythmically, milking his cock.
Rytsar let out a low growl of pleasure.