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My stomach twists as he drags me into the bedroom, a cold knife of fear in my gut, but I don’t have long to wait to see what he’s planned for me. He brings me up hard against his side as we stop in the middle of the room, a few feet away from the bed that I spent last night cuffed to, and I can feel myself blanch in horror.
There, at the foot of the bed, is a dog crate, with a padlock hanging from the bolt that holds it closed. It’s big, the size someone would get for a German Shepherd or a mastiff–and I know very well that Mikhail doesn’t have a dog, not unless he’s kept it hidden somewhere for the last twenty-four hours. That leaves only one explanation.
“You can’t be serious,” I whisper, craning my head to look up at him, my eyes wide. “You cannot be–”
“Oh, you can sleep in the bed,” Mikhail says easily, his hand still wrapped hard around my elbow, and for a moment I feel the tiniest flash of hope.
“--if you tell me the truth about who you are.” His fingers dig into my flesh harder, pressing against the bone, and I have to grit my teeth against a yelp of pain. “If you admit that you’re Natalia Obelensky.” He looks down at me, a cruel smile on his face. “You’ll be cuffed to the bed, of course, and I can’t promise I won’t make use of that lovely body of yours–but you’ll sleep on a soft, comfortable mattress tonight. I’m sure that sounds better, doesn’t it?”
I clench my jaw, fighting back tears of frustration. Itdoessound better. Ofcourseit does. The shower had loosened my tense muscles, soothed my raw skin a little, made me feel half-human again. The last thing I want is to endure further humiliation and discomfort by being shoved into a crate like an animal.
If I admit what he wants to hear, the game is over. There will be nothing left for him to force out of me. Nothing except this revenge he’s so focused on. I can’t admit it, not until–
If I can deepen his obsession with me, feed it, make it stronger, then it might not matter if I can’t conceal the truth any longer. If he breaks it out of me. He might hurt me, then–but he also won’t be able to bring himself to kill me, if I play this right. When it comes down to it, he’ll balk at losing the object of his obsession forever.
I have to take what he’ll surely hand out to me as punishment now, in exchange for the possibility of continuing to live later.
Steeling my courage, I toss my head back, glaring up at him. “I told you who I am,” I snap, narrowing my eyes with as much disdain as I can muster in my current state. “I don’t know what else to tell you, if you’re too stupid to understand–or how many times I can repeat the same thing.”
The fury that rises in Mikhail’s face is fast and absolute. I can’t help shrinking back from it, and I know that pleases him–but it might be for the best. The hatred in his eyes is terrifying.
“You’re a lying bitch,” he hisses, his hand so tight that I’m almost afraid it might pull my elbow out of the joint. “Iknowwho you are. There’s no point in dragging this out. Just fuckingtellme!”
“If you know, then why is it so important?” I glare up at him, biting back the fear, the urge to tell him that yes, it’s true, that I’m Natalia. That he’s figured it all out, and beg him to stop hurting me, to let me go, to stop putting me through this pointless torment that I can’t understand the purpose of. “Why do I need to say it? If you’re so smart, and you’ve figured it all out, why do you need my validation of what you already know?”
“You–fucking–” He grabs me by both arms, shaking me so hard that my teeth clack together and my head lolls on my neck like a doll. I’ve never been shaken so hard in my life, and it leaves me feeling dizzy, as if the entire room is spinning briefly as the contents of my head are momentarily jumbled.
“You’re going to fucking pay for lying to me,” he hisses, spinning me around to face the bed. “You’re going to regret every single word you just said.”
Before I can react, he yanks my wrist forward, and I see the cuffs attached to the foot of the bed too late–probably meant for my ankles originally, if he decided to go that far. Now, it clicks around my wrist, holding me to the bedpost as Mikhail backs away, looking at my naked body with a lewd expression on his face.
His hand goes to his belt buckle, and a shudder goes through me. “No, please–” I whisper, hating myself for it, but I don’t think I can physically take it right now. “I can’t–please don’t. I’m too sore from this morning–”
Mikhail chuckles, thumbing his belt loose from the buckle as he looks at me. “Don’t worry,krasotka,I have no intention of fucking you just now. If that’s what I wanted, of course, I would take it. I have half a mind to, just to reiterate the lesson you so desperately need–that you aremine, body and soul, to do with as I please.”
He jerks his belt loose, and I feel another shiver ripple down my spine at the sound of the slithering leather coming free. “But just now, I have a different lesson in mind. I don’t know how satisfying it will be for you, but for me–” He sucks in a breath between his teeth, and I feel his hand slide over my hip, lingering on the smooth flesh of my ass. “This will be very enjoyable.”
That alone tells me what he’s about to do before the first blow falls, but I still don’t have enough time to prepare for it. I have a glimpse of him folding the belt in half in the instant before it comes cracking down on my flesh, hard and painful, sending a bolt of glowing red heat through me–and I scream.
I can’t help it, though I hate myself for it. My body is sore and aching, inside and out, and I rear back, yanking against the cuff holding my wrist. Mikhail grabs my shoulder in one hand as I do, hard and forceful, holding me in place as he brings the belt down twice more across my ass.
“You can fight it,kotenok,” he says, breathing heavily. “Or, you can bend over like a good girl, and take the whipping you’ve earned. It will make it easier if you do.”
I should obey. I know I should, to ease the pain. To give him another of those small wins that will make him soften towards me and spare me some of the punishment. But the memory of my father bending me over a desk and whipping me raw is fresh in my mind, and the resentment, the humiliation, theangerI’d felt comes roaring back, and I snatch my wrist against the cuff again, twisting out of his grasp as an expression of pure hatred twists my face.
“Fuck you!” I scream, not caring any longer how loudly I shout at him. “You fuckingbastard!You can beat me all you like, and I won’t tell youshit. You think this is how to get someone to cooperate with you?”
“Oh, you’ll cooperate,” Mikhail says, bringing the belt down across my ass again. “It’s just a matter of how much pain it takes to get you there. I’m still learning what really pushes your buttons, you see. Is it a glass of water, just out of reach? Is that the kind of torture that will break you? Is it the humiliation of taking a piss in front of a man who’s been inside of you? Who youbeggedto let you come? Is it pain? Or will it be something as simple as forcing the Obelensky princess to sleep in a crate like a dog?”
He brings the belt down again, three times in quick succession, lashing it over my ass back and forth–and laughs. “I have time to find out,kotenok. And I enjoy seeing your reactions as I do.”
The belt strikes my upper thighs, my ass again, curling around my hip. And as I struggle against him, the cuff chafing my wrist, I feel something else too, to my horror.
That growing heat between my thighs, the building throb. It increases with every blow, the painful burn of the leather against my skin turning into something else, a warmth that floods through my pussy, my clit swelling and tingling as Mikhail holds me in place, his hand a vise grip as tight as the cuff around my wrist. The pain is blossoming into something else, into arousal, intoneed, and all I can do is hope that he doesn’t see.
I lose track of how many times the belt comes down, over and over again. At last, Mikhail stops, the hand holding it falling to his side as he steps back, breathing heavily.
“Bend over for me,kotenok, and take the last few,” he says, his voice hoarse. “If you do that, I’ll end it. If not–”
