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“Ah, I heard you had something like that!” Belkonov said delightedly.
I felt the tip of the wand, and the very slight jolt that came with the pressing of the button. Belkonov spoke in dismissive, heavily accented English.
“Come with us, little fuck toy.”
As I started to move, he yelled to a servant somewhere inside the door, “Bring a coat for this whore.”
“No,” Ivan said sharply. “It’s better to keep her naked. She’s used to it, and she needs to stay that way.”
I climbed out of the car. I had no desire to disobey; the dangerous plan on which Ivan and the Guardsman had agreed in the last few seconds before my master had led me back to the limo called for my obedience to Belkonov for the moment, anyway.
With my arms instinctively around my body to try to keep me just that little bit warmer, I stood on the freezing landing at the bottom of a grand set of steps leading up to the even grander double doors of the mansion. I had never felt so naked; Ivan had never exposed me that way before.
Always when he had sent me to service his friends and colleagues before, he had made sure to cover my nudity in the big warm coat. Always mygospodinhad given explicit instructions that those gifted with my shameful services must wait to uncover my degraded body until they had me in the room where they meant to use me.
Here in the portico of Belkonov’s palace I stood naked but for my heels before my master and his treacherous lieutenant. I tried to remember that this represented a plan… a path to safety for Ivan and for me. The cold and the mortification refused to allow any positive thought to rise in my mind. I felt my face crumple into a pout of distress, and I shuddered violently even more with shame than with the chill.
My eyes, drawn by the anxiety roiling in the pit of my stomach, rose to Belkonov’s face in the long moment of silence that had descended. I knew they were inspecting me, enjoying the pleasure of looking at a beautiful young woman, degraded and naked. I knew I mustn’t look them in the eye and yet I had to.
The man didn’t have the drop-dead good looks Ivan did, but to my dismay Belkonov wasn’t really unattractive. Jet-black hair and coal-black eyes in a rugged face and a fit, muscular body. As elegantly dressed as my master in a dark suit and a crisp white shirt without a tie—and yet, in that European way, looking even more put together with his collar loose than a stuffy American would in a silk tie.
If I thought Ivan’s face could look cruel when he chose, though, this man instantly struck me as brutal through and through. I felt my heart rate rise. I heard my breathing become uneven and rough.
Belkonov proved immediately that the terrifying expression on his face represented no more than what he had in his mind and heart, too.
“She’s looking at me,” he said to Ivan in rapid Russian, clearly sure that I couldn’t understand—that he could speak about me as if I were a blowup sex doll. “You’re right that she needs to learn her place.”
The way he said it—just the wordplace—sent another shiver thrilling through my body. To my horror, something about the situation—above all the way Ivan stood there guaranteeing, I knew, my safety—made Belkonov’s casual, thoughtless dominance terribly arousing for me.
That could ruin everything, one voice in my brain whispered.
It will make sure I’m convincing,another whispered back.
Above all, I had to make certain not to give away my knowledge of Russian. I forced myself to keep looking at Belkonov as he returned his attention from Ivan to me.
He spoke in English.
“Eyes down, whore,” he said.
I felt the operation of the compliance wand, making me do the thing I wanted to do: obey. I lowered my gaze to his shiny shoes.
“And take your hands away from your body. Put them on your head.”
I could understand his English only with difficulty, but again the wand’s operation kicked in before conscious thought: I felt my hands go up, despite the cold that seemed to wrap around me instantly. I gave a sob of abject bodily distress. I thought I might simply fall down unconscious if this went on much longer, and yet my nervous system had become so aroused I also thought I might explode.
I heard a strange sound, a sort of metallic clicking, from Belkonov’s direction. Ivan chuckled. My brain worked furiously, and I couldn’t help feeling a little gratitude for the compliance wand, because I couldn’t look up as much as I wanted to.
Then I felt the collar go around my neck, and Belkonov’s hands there, buckling the stout leather behind my head.
“This will help you learn,” he said in English.
“Answer your new master,” Ivan said, his voice so hard that I could barely convince myself my master didn’t feel the contempt that seemed to emanate from him.
“Yes, Master,” I whispered.
“Yes, what?” Belkonov demanded. “Will it help a little whore like you learn, to have a collar and a leash?”
He fastened the long chain leash to a ring at the front of my new collar.
