A Bratva psycho is obsessed with claiming my curves, even though it’s forbidden.
He’s much older than me, and he wants revenge for what my family has done to his.
So he blindfolds and binds me, and drags me to his isolated mountain cabin.
And there, his psychotic rage builds until my innocent body is no longer safe.
He’s skilled with needles and knives, like a butcher in a meat market.
He carves up his victims for fun, as pieces of art.
I’m usually strong and fiery, but I’m trapped with a beast and must wait it out.
And if I thought I’d get out unharmed, I was sorely mistaken.
He pins me against tree trunks, and ties my body to his.
His games morph into tense silences that only he can break.
There is no today when he plays me so thoroughly that I collapse.
There is no tomorrow when he possesses my exhausted curves and makes them swell.
Can I submit to a Bratva psycho?
The Milov Bratva play only one kind of game: one that is full of blood, cruelty, and power. Only their brides come to see another side of them. A side where they will protect the ones they love and die for them if they have to. Until you can’t do anything but want them for life.
