If You Love Me Page 9

  “No thanks.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” He slapped Catia’s pussy hard, making her scream into the tape. “Get over there, brothel cunt and show the man what he’s missing.”

  Catia didn’t know what direction to go. She sat up, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.

  The man boxed her ears. “How hard can it be to find a dick in the back of a van?”

  She fell forward, onto her breasts.

  “Move it,” he kicked her in the side.

  Catia slithered on the ribbed metal floor, trying to reach the second man.

  “You’re not trying, you lazy bitch.” Another kick.

  Catia felt something with her head. A boot! She rubbed against it, sweating like a pig. Desperate to avoid further punishment, she flipped herself, lifting her body on her heels, displaying her naked cunt.

  “Higher, bitch, higher.”

  “Leave her be,” said the other man.

  Catia’s head and body were covered by the blanket.

  “Lie down, girl,” ordered the second man. “On your belly.”

  Catia obeyed, grateful.

  “Spoilsport,” grumbled the first man.

  The rest of the trip was uneventful.

  They drove a while longer, uphill and down and through some twists and turns. Finally the van came to a stop. She heard the rear door open. There were hushed voices, the two men talking to a third.

  At last someone came for her. New hands on her body, proprietary, infinitely casual with the female form.

  She was sat up on the edge of the van, feet dangling. The hood was taken off and the tape. It took a moment to adjust to the light. It was dawn. She was in a courtyard, made of cobblestone. The surrounding walls were made of gray stone, covered in vines. The roof was made of slate. The windows were thick and ancient, with bars on them. The doors leading outside were large and wooden, like those of a castle.

  “I’m Sergei,” said a gray haired man of fifty, with an open shirt, shoulder length hair and a short beard. “Can you speak?”

  “Y—yes.”

  “Are you injured?”

  She considered telling him about the whipping and all the things Ivan’s men had done to her. “No,” she opted to say.

  “And when was the last time you were used sexually?”

  Catia hesitated. She looked at the two men, standing there. Which one had been inside her?

  Sergei’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?” He followed her line of vision. “These men here?”

  “O—one of them, Sir.”

  “Lying bitch!” It was the first man; she would know his voice anywhere.

  “Sir,” said the second. “You can’t trust a slut like this, she’ll say anything.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” argued Sergei. “A girl like this knows she cannot lie. Isn’t that so, girl?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Sergei weighed her breast in his hand. “Did someone sample your lovely fruit on the way here, hmm?”

  Catia moaned lightly, instinctively parting her thighs. “Yes, Sir. I couldn’t stop him.”

  “Of course you couldn’t. You were naked and tied and helpless.”

  “Yes...Sir,” she arched her back, inviting him to touch her more, to play with her body as he willed.

  “I will have them each step forward. You will tell me.”

  “Yes, Sir...oh, god...please...”

  “Igor.”

  The second man stepped to the back of the van. She shook her head. “That’s not him.”

  “Gorlov.”

  The first man took a step the other way. A man aimed a machine gun at his back.

  “Gorlov,” repeated Sergei.

  Gorlov approached, glaring at Catia in hatred.

  Sergei rubbed his finger tip over her clit. “Is it him?”

  “Y—yes,” she said pitifully. “Oh, yes.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “He...made me spread my legs. He mounted me.”

  “Lying cunt! Stupid animal!” protested Gorlov.

  “Take him away,” said Sergei. “And bring the girl to my room.”

  And so it was about to begin. Catia’s new life in the brothel...

  ***

  Catia found Sergei’s room already occupied.

  A short haired blonde, twenty or so, was reading a cheap novel. She was lying on the bed, naked with a steel collar around her neck. A long chain was locked to it. The other end was secured to a ring in the wall just above the headboard.

  The pretty prisoner looked up at Catia and then at Catia’s guard. “Who the fuck is this?”

  “Watch your mouth, Nadia.” The man moved his hand to his belt in a clear warning.

  “Touch me,” smiled Nadia. “Mark up Sergei’s favorite and see what happens.”

  The man scowled. “Someday you’ll be knocked off your high horse, Nadia, then you will be all mine.”

  She blew him a kiss. “I look forward to it...Master.”

  He ignored her laughter. “Good luck,” he said to Catia, preparing to leave her behind.

  “Hey, aren’t you going to chain her?” demanded Nadia.

  “What for? It’s not like she’s going anywhere. Besides, I know how much it will piss you off.”

  “Cock sucker,” she snarled.

  It was the man’s turn to laugh. Catia heard a key turn in the lock outside.

  Now what?

  “Just so you know,” said Nadia. “You won’t be staying. I take care of Sergei. And I don’t need help.”

  Catia noted the deep bruises on her thighs, green, black and blue. “More like he takes care of you.”

  She slapped the mottled skin. “Jealous? This is how a boss marks his woman. You wouldn’t last an hour with him, honey.”

  “He didn’t seem so bad,” Catia remembered his touch, on her breast, the way he stroked her clit.

  “Ha! He’ll eat you alive. And so will I as soon as I get my hands on you.”

  “I don’t want any trouble,” said Catia. “If you must know, my soul belongs to another.”

  “Your soul? You have no soul here. You have this.” She parted her pussy lips, each of which were pierced with a gold ring.

  “You like?” Nadia purred, rubbing her denuded mound. “Why don’t you come taste.”

  “If you belong to Sergei, you’re off limits.”

  “Smart girl. Smarter than I expected. Never mind, you’ll fall just the same. And I’ll be there to spit in your face when you do.”

  “Why can’t we be friends?”

  “Brothel sluts don’t have friends.”

  “Is it true we’ll really die here?” Catia lamented.

  “You will. I’m going to make it out. Sergei’s going to take me to the capital one day and buy me an apartment so he can come and visit me there and make love to me. I’ll have a fluffy robe and slippers, I’ll sleep till noon and eat chocolates from Paris. He told me.”

  “Men make promises they can’t keep. I had a man who promised things, and then a bigger man came along and stole me away. There are always bigger, meaner men.” Catia thought of her mother and her year’s suffering, one tyrant over her body after another. “Sometimes there are even mean women.”

  “What do you know?” said Nadia. “You’re a child.”

  “I’m old enough,” Catia said proudly.

  “Old enough to suffer, that’s what you are.”

  “Women have always suffered. My mother taught me to survive. What did yours teach you?”

  “I don’t want to listen.” She covered her ears.

  “You have to listen.” The blood was rushing through Catia’s veins. Strange feelings filled her heart. For the first time in her life she wanted to make another suffer. “I’ll make you listen.”

  Catia pulled Nadia’ hands away from her ears. Nadia tried to hit her. Catia blocked the blow, slapping her. “No!” Catia said to her in a commanding tone of voice.

  She looked into
Catia’s eyes. Nadia’s mouth opened wide in astonishment. It was at that moment Catia realized there was a little bit of dominance inside her, along with all the submission.

  “What’s it going to be, Nadia? Cooperation...or...” Catia held up her hand to slap Nadia. Nadia cringed.

  Catia’s fingers went to Nadia’s nipples, twisting them. “I am waiting for an answer.”

  “I’ll...cooperate.”

  Catia climbed onto the bed, astride Nadia’s face. “A man fucked me who shouldn’t have. I want you to lick his come.”

  Nadia moaned as Catia pushed herself against her mouth. Catia was so aggressive, so fast that Nadia had no choice but to respond as she would to a man.

  With total, sluttish abandon.

  “Do a good job, Nadia and I won’t punish you. And don’t think I can’t do it without leaving marks for Sergei to find, because I can. From this moment on, you’re my slut. Everything anyone does to me, I find ways to take it out on you.”

  Catia smothered her, just to make her work harder. “Get my clit,” Catia ordered. “Don’t you dare leave me unsatisfied.”

  Catia covered her mouth when she came. She didn’t want any of the men to hear her. The sensation was wild, different than when she’d had cocks in her. Fuller, more diffuse. It seemed to reach through her entire body. It felt like...revenge. And power.

  Was this what it was like to be a man, even a little?

  Catia let herself come twice before letting Nadia up. She got a cloth from the little bathroom to wash her face. “I don’t have to tell you what will happen,” she smiled sweetly at Nadia as she dabbed the come from the cheeks of the chained slave. “If you say a word to Sergei or anyone else.”

  Just a little while ago the same words had been said to her in the van. Her response was exactly what this girl’s would be. Or else.

  Nadia’s expression was pained. “Poor thing,” soothed Catia. “Your whole world turned upside down...by little me.”

  Catia laughed. “Move over,” she slapped Nadia’s ass. “I want to take a nap.”

  Nadia’s chains clinked as she obeyed.

  “You’re lucky your chain doesn’t reach to the floor,” said Catia. “Or that’s where I’d put you. By the way, I’m warm. Blow on my face, will you?”

  Nadia went to work, reduced to the level of human air conditioner.

  If only I could handle the men so easily, thought Catia.

  Sleep came quick and sweet. Catia was much more exhausted than she realized. In her dreams she saw Ulexi. They were together, married. Her mother was at the wedding ceremony, crying the entire time. Catia had never seen her so happy. She wore an expensive dress, bought by Ivan, who was now her slave. At the wedding he served as a seat for Julyana, on his hands and knees, naked. He wore a collar and he had a rope tied around his cock and when the priest asked if there were any who wished to state an objection to the marriage, Julyana pulled on the rope, making him whimper.

  When the service was done, Julyana took her slave away, like a doggie to be used in her new house, ten times the size of her old apartment. Meanwhile, Ulexi took Catia on their honeymoon. He carried her across the threshold of their fabulous hotel suite in Paris and he told her, “You are mine, you cross this line as my property, my beloved and treasured wife.”

  “I am yours,” she sighed, curling her small body against his.

  He had her undress in front of him, stripping away her fine gown and underthings. When she was naked he said, “This is how you will be when we are alone, always,” and she replied, “Yes, my husband.” Then he told her, “When you greet me, it will be on your knees, always, naked and submissive. You will not rise without permission, nor will you speak.”

  And Catia went down on her knees, her heart swelling with joy, her eyes watering and she did not speak for he had not given her permission.

  Then he said, “After you have knelt, you will keep your eyes at the level of my crotch, never raised to my face. You will watch my hand; you will wait for the signal. This signal will tell you when it is time to crawl to me on your hands and knees and kiss my feet, one after the other. Nod if you understand.”

  Catia nodded and lowered her eyes, her body full of electricity as she beheld her husband’s cock.

  “We will live in bliss,” he said. “Forever. You will never have another man but me and I will know no other woman but you. You will be my only slave and I your only master.”

  She gasped as he gave her the signal, snapping his fingers, indicating that she should go to him, on her hands and knees to show her respect, to show her readiness to be his slave.

  The carpeting tickled her palms and knees. She was dripping wet and her thighs were sticky as they rubbed, one against another. Her head was down, her husband loomed; he was her world, her god.

  She reached his shiny leather wedding shoes. She did not hesitate to touch her lips, pressing them, soft, pliant female flesh, utter vulnerability against the smooth material, the smell of manhood, the smell of discipline.

  “Do you like leather, Catia?”

  “Yes, Master.” She kissed his other shoe.

  “Lick it a while, get used to it. You will be in leather much of the time. You will be collared, Catia, and wear wrist and ankle bracelets. And you will be gagged with leather, I might even ride you like a horse, little one. Would you like that?”

  “I exist to please you, Master.”

  “I smell your cunt.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Would you like your little hole filled?”

  “Very much, Master.”

  “Show me how much. Show me your passion as you lick Master’s shoes.”

  Catia began to pant. She administered long, lingering strokes with her warm, wet tongue. Every inch of his shoe she covered.

  “Are you ready to try your tongue elsewhere, slave?”

  “Oh, yes,” Catia sighed. “May I?”

  Ulexi retracted his foot. “Arrogant girl.”

  He stepped on her back, just hard enough to force her breasts to the floor and her left cheek.

  “Master, what did I do wrong?”

  “You presumed to be worthy.”

  “I’m not worthy, Master, I know I’m not.”

  “Were we not married, I would spurn you for that and use another female, but we are pledged to each other. Which means I have no choice. Either you or masturbation.”

  “Please, Master,” she wheedled. “Use your slave. She is so sorry. Show her how to do right.”

  “You may begin by begging...”

  “Yes, Master?”

  “By begging to lick my ass.”

  “Master, please, please, may I lick your ass? I’m not worthy, I don’t deserve it.”

  “Get up,” he ordered. “Back on your knees.”

  She moved like lightning.

  “Take off my shoes. And my pants.”

  She worked quickly, but reverently. His legs were so muscular. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the tent beneath his underwear.

  “Take down my underwear with your teeth.”

  “Yes, Master, thank you, Master.”

  She tugged the waistband, her nostrils filling with the scent of his manhood. She whimpered, realizing the taste of him was as yet denied her.

  When his underwear was fully removed he told her curtly to go to work on his ass. She thanked him again.

  “Don’t use your hands,” he warned. “Put them on your head, or I’ll chain you up, you miserable slut.”

  “Master,” she choked as she prepared to kiss his skin, the muscular behind, so strong and powerful. “You are so beautiful.”

  “Were you given permission to speak, slave?”

  “No, Master,” she tremored.

  “You will be punished for that. Later.”

  “Thank you, Master.” She kissed his ass.

  “Lick it. Show me obeisance.”

  Catia honored her husband, abasing her naked self. Hands on her head, back arched, nipples burni
ng, pussy twitching. Whatever she had to do to be fucked, to be used as Ulexi’s pleasure vessel, she would do it.

  “Don’t miss any spots.”

  She was very careful. She covered everything twice and then a third time, determined not to stop until he gave the command.

  “You kiss a powerful man, Catia. I am head of all the gangs now, in the whole world. No one is stronger than me. I rule every nation.”

  Catia moaned, acknowledging in her devotions. Ulexi chuckled. “Come, wife, kiss the cock of your master.”

  “Thank you, thank you,” she cried, not caring if he punished her further for speaking. “I love you, my husband, my master.”

  He allowed her one single kiss to the head of his cock. There was a drop of precome, he told her to lick it, to take it in her mouth, she shuddered with joy. He laughed, the sound of a man of great power, indeed.

  Ulexi showed no mercy, taking her head in his hands and pushing himself to the back of her throat. She nearly fainted from the overwhelming power, the hot, throbbing cock conquering her, owning her mouth; and she surrendered in totality, relaxing every muscle, letting her will be broken and crushed under his loving foot of domination.

  He pumped her furiously and unlike in real life, when he came, he did not flag or tire but gave her mouthful after mouthful to swallow.

  “Miss a drop,” he growled. “And you will suffer. Pure agony.”

  Catia gulped come, she guzzled come. It lasted an hour, it went on forever. His cock got bigger and bigger until she felt like she was breathing cock, living cock, being the cock.

  He took her tits and squeezed them, as if trying to squeeze more out of himself. Finally it ended. He pulled out, but he was not done.

  “Take my belt, between your teeth,” he ordered. “Wait on all fours on the bed.”

  She pulled the belt from his pants on the floor. It smelled rich like his shoes. She quivered in her belly, knowing he would beat her with it. On her naked ass, her thighs, her belly and tits, anywhere he liked.

  “I’m going to stay hard all night,” he told her. “I will come ten times inside you, for each of the ten months of the year.”

  At this point, Catia could not resist correcting him. But when she dropped the belt and looked up into his face, it wasn’t Ulexi she saw, but Ivan.

  He was wearing a wig and a corset. Stockings, covering his enormous hairy legs. And high heels. “I’m your mother’s lover,” he said. “I fuck her whenever I want. And it’s your fault. It’s all been your fault. She would have had a life except for you. She had to become the worst kind of slut to keep you alive and safe and you never appreciated her. You only condemned her.”