Chapter 1

 

The girl's struggles took his breath away. Even in her pain, she moved with a kind of feline grace, a sexual flare that turned his cock into hardwood. I should tattoo "Danger" on her ass, Dmitri thought as he watched; he was only half joking. She was truly dangerous like this just as any animal in heat would be under the same conditions.

He poured wine from a nearby decanter and sipped thoughtfully.

He had created something unique with Alyona, something extraordinary. She was his masterpiece and the Banya's (Resort's) primary example of sexual perfection.

Unfortunately, he thought, he was probably the only one who would ever truly appreciate what he'd accomplished here. Most of the pigs who visited were content to whip a woman into a pain-crazed frenzy then fuck her. They understood nothing of the artistry it took to create such an experience. They assumed that the girls were prostitutes. How stupid. Could a whore convey innocence? Could they be truly submissive? The women he selected were all beautiful intelligent creatures with spirit and grace. They all had the potential for deep passion. Such women were rare...and precious.

He watched as the girl's leg began to shake. Standing on her toes was taking its toll. He took another sip of wine and checked his watch. Two hours! She had suffered like this for two hours. He waited for the tremor to stop, sensing that she was still fighting the pain, still resisting.

He didn't share Alyona with anyone. She was his and his alone. Yes, he admitted to himself, she was an obsession. And yes again, an obsession was a dangerous thing to have in this business, but he had no choice as far as she was concerned. That's what obsessions were all about.

He didn't even videotape her, never had, even though the videotapes were the real reason the Banya existed. They were the Bratva's (Brotherhood's) prized possessions--digitized images of perverse excess that could end careers, even lives. Every lash stroke, every scream, every drooling grunt of many of Russia's power-elite was on the tapes. None of them could survive such a disclosure even in the current permissive environment.

"Arrggghhh..." The girl's groaning pulled him back to the moment.

He had placed her in a conflict position, hanging by soft-leather wrist cuffs on her toes, forcing her to choose her own agony. The dilemma accelerated her transformation. Many girls needed the heavy impact of a whip or cane to cross over, to abandon all hope and human self-interest, to unleash their primitive instincts. Alyona didn't need such rough methods.

He believed the isolation of the hood helped as well. It made her body hypersensitive...and what a body it was, he thought: long, lean, curved in all the right places. He focused on her exquisite thigh, the muscle contractions had caused a dark ridgeline to appear for its full length. He looked away, trying to control his own growing desire.

How many other girls had suffered in this room, he asked, distracting himself. He had designed it himself--with round sound-deadening walls; with a long view of the black water; with a ticking clock. Everything needed to create an ethereal feeling of dislocation. He wanted to separate them from their everyday personalities.

Calmed, he glanced back at Alyona. Her spectacles de la douleur (signs of deep pain) were becoming more pronounced. He stared at her pointed feet, they were shuddering, failing. He listened to her labored breathing. The sweat between her breasts had formed into a tiny rivulet and he could see the blood pumping furiously under the skin of her exposed underarms. She was ready!

He rose quickly and released the tension on the overhead chain. Her arms fell a few inches and she slumped in relief then immediately tensed, knowing instinctively what the release signified. Dmitri shed his clothes. The movement blew cool wisps of air onto her wet cunt and her hooded head turned towards him.

He watched her for a moment, she was effectively "sniffing the air" like an animal, using every available sense. People thought pain dulled the senses. It wasn't true, it sharpened them and focused the mind on what was really important...for survival. Slowly, she straightened her body then pushed out her midsection towards him. She was reaching out for him with her cunt, offering herself like a dog rolling onto its back. There was nothing calculated about it; it was another survival instinct. What most people knew, but failed to verbalize in this modern age was that it was natural for females to surrender.

"It won't be that easy tonight, my love," he whispered, reaching down for an ankle and stepping behind her body. He paused to admire the elegant curve of her back then ran his hand lightly along her spine.

The intoxicating effect of her body weakened him and he nearly jammed his cock into her nearby pussy. Control...control, he mumbled then quickly secured her leg to a nearby wall chain that held it back at waist height. She began to grunt through the gag, resisting. He chained her other leg so that she was face down and suspended by her wrists and ankles. Her ass cheek was puckering wildly. He stared at it for a long moment then adjusted the chains so that her twisting legs were taut.

The paddle hanging on the wall was within easy reach. "Whop! Whop! Whop!" The sound of leather on bare skin was loud in the confined space, much louder than the girl's stifled cries. He continued mercilessly then stopped as suddenly as he'd begun. Slowly, he moved his cool hands soothingly over her burning skin to disguise his next move. Before she knew what was happening, his cock was inside her. The glove-like tightening of her anus was exhilarating. It's a glove, he though, resistant but also pulling me inside. The fundamental dilemma of all women, he mused.

It was several seconds before a new kind of panicked grunting noise rose up in her throat. She was feeling him inside her...something the pain from the paddling had masked.

"Aughh...uhummm," she cried through the gag, starting to twitch and buck. She wanted him out. He struck her hard on the ass cheek. It was time to take control.

"Aughh...uhummm," she moaned again but more softly. The pain was again focusing her mind, reordering her priorities. She began to move again, corkscrewing, undulating back and forth. The feeling for him was delicious.

His timing was right on; she was reacting to pain in exactly the same way she was reacting to pleasure. The bondage had brought her to a perfect state of yin-yang where all feelings and all emotions were in balance, where all natural things are both interrelated and independent. He was now going to experience the mother of all fucks.

He struck again with the paddle, much harder, on the thigh.

"Aughh...uhummm!"

Her hard ass was roiling now, each cheek moving up and down like a piston. It was impossible to tell if she was trying to expel him or pull him further inside. It didn't matter, he thought, as he struck her again, harder still. We're committed now. Nothing short of an earthquake could stop us, maybe not even that.

His mind began to fade in and out with the pounding rhythm. This room had held a thousand beautiful girls, heard their screams absorbed their sweat. It was a kind of holy place...a kind of...

"Aughh...uhummm!" He struck her again.

"Aughh...uhummm!" ...and again.

She screamed through the ball gag then tried to lift herself up. He used the arching motion to push himself farther inside. She felt the bulk of his cock and panicked again, quickly opening and closing her sphincter. He had anticipated this and thrust until he was buried to the hilt. Her fully impaled body squirmed giving him an unbelievably sublime sensation of absolute power.

"Whop." The paddle sent another spike of pain into her primitive brain. Her mindless squirming stopped and she froze. "Whop." The second stroke brought her back to life. The frenzied squirming was replaced with a hard pull and release. She was beginning to move in a way that gave him maximum pleasure.

It's been this way since the beginning of time, he thought. She was acting instinctively now to increase the force and volume of his ejaculation.

He swept his arm behind and struck her hard on the leg. The velocity of her humping motion increased immediately like a race horse responding to the jockey's crop. He switched hands and repeated the action on the other side. Then again and again until they were moving together at an incredible speed.

A vibration was growing inside her body like a giant freight train. He increased his own movement as all rational thought receded to the back of his mind. He was an animal now just like her.

His eyes rolled back into his head and they exploded together in a series of violent, bone crushing spasms. A feeling of immense power washed over him as he spurted inside her then everything faded into a sublime blackness as if he was dropping into a deep chasm. It was some seconds before he returned. He remained inside her enjoying the aftershocks. After a time, he pulled out and sat back on the chair.

Sex with Alyona was truly a unique experience and totally exhausting.

He moved behind and released her legs. She tried to stand, stumbling like a newborn colt. The electrical shocks from their climax were still coursing through her mind hampering normal muscle control. He cranked her arms fully down to the floor.

He would need the whip later, he guessed, to counter her fatigue. Psychologically, she was his for the next few hours to do with as he pleased, her mental defenses totally overrun, but physical exhaustion could slow her down. He wouldn't allow that.

He removed the hood and gag. Her bright eyes were wide with wonder. The monster inside her head had shown itself to her and she was dazed by its power. They both were. They were both trapped by it, trapped in a cycle of sexual dependency that only death could stop. The more she suffered, the more intense her passions and the more she craved them. The more intense her passion, the more he became addicted to her. How would it all end? He wondered.

Chapter 2 - School Days

 

"Russian's love strong men and submissive women," the professor said. "Every despot in our history has been popular, especially with the women of his time. This preference for a strong leader is something our current enlightened leadership needs to struggle with every day."

The student let out a collective sigh of relief. The professor was popular, no one wanted him in trouble with the government for an innocent slip of the tongue. They had lost others for much less.

"Does anyone disagree?"

A dozen heads, mostly women turned towards the red-haired girl sitting near the back. She spoke up for the class whenever a professor or another student dared to express their Russian misogyny. Even the professor glanced in her direction, prepared to do battle.

The girl waited until his eyes fell back to his lecture notes then she stood up without being formally recognized.

All of the male students and even a few female students held their breath. The girl was literally breathtakingly beautiful--tall and slender, long shapely legs, pointed breasts, a face that could launch ships, all topped by a mane of chestnut-red hair that billowed out, framing her sharply planed face. They all wanted her, but they also knew that they had no chance. She was already with one of the most eligible men on campus, an intern at the university hospital.

"That's bullshit, Professor, and you know it," she said in a firm voice, "just more Chauvinistic crap that Russians have been fed for a thousand years." Her voice wasn't loud, but it projected across the entire hall.

The professor looked up.

"With very rare exceptions," she continued, "the Russian czars were all figureheads. The real backbone and certainly the brains behind their reigns came from their wives or mothers. I know you like historical references. I can name these women if you like and give specific examples of how they exercised power. Shall I?"

"Ah, Miss Cherinowski, it's always a pleasure to hear from you. Unfortunately, Natasha, as usual, your ideas come from very shaky historical rumors and writings. There is nothing that you can..."

She interrupted him in mid-sentence.

"It's a well-documented medical fact, Professor, that the Romanoff's, just to reference a recent example, became increasingly more retarded with each passing generation. This was caused by inbreeding within the family. Fortunately, some of the women they married were typically from outside the clan. By the time of Nicholas II, the effect of this outrageous sacrilege was perfectly obvious for everyone to see. Nicholas was a weakling with almost no intellectual capability. His wife and the priest, Grigori Rasputin, effectively ran the country."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she continued on relentlessly.

"I think it would be more accurate for you to say that Russians love the IDEA of strong men, but in reality, it's Russian women who actually make Russian men strong."

The professor opened his mouth to speak just as a bell rang. It was the end of the period. As was the university's tradition, everyone waited respectfully to be dismissed. A stronger man would have had the last word, but Sasha had a debilitating effect on some men...

"We'll resume this discussion tomorrow. Dismissed."

The students exploded in a frenzy of movement and noise, most laughing at the way the man had once again allowed himself to be bested by a girl.

Anna caught up to her friend in the hallway.

"You're never going to get a good grade by embarrassing him like that," she said.

"Getting a good grade from a pompous ass is nothing to brag about," Sasha answered, holding her books against her chest. "He wants us to think he's a rebel, which is why he flirts with political incorrectness, but what he really wants are adoring disciples. He's got a Jesus complex. I'm not going to submit to any man just because he's got some minor power over me."

"What about Andrei?" her friend said laughing. "My guess is that you're on your knees worshipping him every night."

Sasha stopped and glared at her.

"Don't use the private things I tell you against me, Anna."

The other girl smirked. "So, let me get this straight. It's okay for you to suck your lover's cock or take it up the ass like a bitch dog then come to class and rail about all the strong women behind the Russian leaders...sounds a little hypocritical to me."

"You're disgusting. Anyway, I never said that they didn't put out," Sasha answered lightly, resuming her walk to her next class. "Men like to be worshipped and I like it up the ass, especially with Andrei. There's nothing inconsistent in that. Besides, he knows all the right buttons to push. He's a doctor.

"Listen to me, Anna. Find yourself a handsome doctor, you won't regret it."

"Not all of us are beautiful like you," she replied. For those of us with ordinary looks, it's a lot harder to land someone like Andrei."

Sasha stopped again and looked at her friend.

"'Ordinary looks...' Come on Anna, give me a break. You are incredible--beautiful, smart, funny, loyal... You're going to find your own Prince Charming soon then you'll be the one telling me about what a good man's cock tastes like."

"Speaking of long tasty things, want to get a hot dog before class?" she asked laughing.

Sasha didn't notice the strange smile on her face.