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I came, in that modest, submissive way that only happened when dominant men mastered me utterly. As I did, I felt Vassily start to spurt between my legs. Ivan pulled his cock out but kept holding my head in place, readying me to receive the shameful gift of his seed on my face. Around me I heard grunts from the other guards as they started to spurt their semen on my sides, my breasts. Papa Nicolai had gotten even harder in my anus, so that I cried out with each urgent thrust that brought him closer to his own climax.
“Papa,” I moaned. “Papa, please.” I knew Papa Nicolai would think I meant him but of course I didn’t… I meant Papa Georg. If only…
I heard a bang… not an explosion, my floaty brain said, but a door being slammed open. A voice started shouting commands in Russian, but instead of my mind telling me, as it usually did, that I just couldn’t understand the words, it told me instead that I knew the voice… that in fact I knew the voice very, very well, and that I loved the voice.
Daddy John?
Another voice shouted, but those words were English, and they were pitched low, and I recognized the speaker at the same time my body—much quicker to act, apparently, than my brain was to think just then—started to obey.
Daddy Omar shouted to me, from somewhere behind Papa Nicolai, “Briana, stay where you are. You’re safe.”
Things seemed to unfold very slowly, though I knew in some remaining logical part of my mind that they were actually happening in a matter of moments. Papa Nicolai’s cock pulled out of my ass while he was still in the middle of his orgasm. Somewhere, a naughty little girl laughed inside my head. Caught literally with his pants down and his dick in the air.
Then another part of my consciousness chimed in. Papa Georg is definitely a spy. They couldn’t have found me otherwise, right?
Then I felt suddenly like I had taken flight, and I had enough time inside my mind to understand that Vassily had thrown me off before I hit the floor hard on my left side.
After that, for a little while it all became a jumble of noises. Daddy Omar repeated his command that I should stay where I was, and his reassurance that I was safe. I must be, I kept thinking, because they had all taken off their clothes, right?
Wow, what a setup,I suddenly thought. Hey, am I a hero, or a heroine, or something?
That’s when I ruined everything. Or I guess just a lot of things. I sat up, and I saw that they had all the Russians corralled in a corner with their hands up, and I saw that Papa Georg was standing there among them with his hands up, too.
And I knew I should just keep my mouth shut.
But I didn’t want to be parted from my real papa again. Ever.
So I said, “Wait… Papa Georg is on our side!”
