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Good, I thought,he’s going to stay involved, as we knew he would. He’s too possessive to actually share me, the way Ivan did.
My hands went to my head. A murmur of obscene appreciation went through the other men. I still couldn’t tell how many there were, but I thought my guess of four was probably a good one.
Clearly trying to play the part of the benevolent boss giving his closest aides a coveted perk, Belkonov said in a casual voice, “You should punish her first. The benefactor told me she’s a bad girl, and he wants her whipped soundly before she’s used. Don’t worry about doing it too hard—we have to get rid of her afterward, anyway.”
For the very first time I felt glad to have the awful hood on my head, because I knew they would have seen my comprehension etched on my face. I forced myself to swallow hard, and managed to keep my sob of fear and shameful arousal down in my throat.
I felt a hand on my bottom pushing me forward, making me stumble until other strong, masculine hands caught me. The first hand, or maybe another one, delivered a hard spank. I cried out in pain and alarm.
Someone pushed me up against a piece of furniture, its edge pressing into my belly.
“Get on that,” said a voice I hadn’t heard before, his English almost unrecognizable. “Ass high. We’re going to whip you until you beg for our cocks.”
Now,the rational part of me said.
I ripped off the hood.
“Alright, you motherfuckers,” I said in perfect Russian, looking around at the five men in their dark suits, of whom Belkonov seemed the most thunderstruck, and concentrating not on the enemy warlord but on his minions, “if you want to live, you’re going to grab that asshole who calls himself your boss as soon as…”
I had meant to say,as soon as my friends get here, but my friends interrupted me. With a deafening crunch and a cloud of dust, the wall of the dungeon—the one, I noted before its destruction, that had held the ring to which my collar must have been attached—fell down, and the Pretorian Guard arrived.
CHAPTER25
Ivan
I watched the Guard’s invasion of Belkonov’s dungeon in a van parked two streets away from the palace. The man’s security precautions, they had told me, prevented any access to the room where he had kept Heather for three days. The Guard’s micro-drones had kept constant watch on the upper floors of the house, so they had felt reasonably certain that he hadn’t moved Heather. Until their slow, silent digging device breached the wall of the basement, though, they couldn’t assure me that Belkonov had kept her alive.
Only when the micro-drones observed four of the man’s top lieutenants arriving, in a jovial mood, did Heather’s allies—my new allies, it seemed—give me word that the next stage of the plan could go forward. The presence of Belkonov’s most trusted minions represented an essential element, and their summons to their boss’ home provided circumstantial evidence at least that Heather remained alive—and fairly healthy. The reasoning pained me, but it helped to know that Belkonov considered the girl I loved able to furnish submissive sexual pleasure to his chosen guests.
I sat next to Helena, a senior agent of the Order of Ostia—anagna, she had told me, while Franklin, the man I had supposed a broker of black-market concubines, was apersesof the Pretorian Guard.
“Go go go,” she said, her voice very calm. The screen in front of me, which had shown only shadowy shapes in night-vision green, flared white and then adjusted to the light in Belkonov’s dungeon. A cloud of dust obscured all detail for a few seconds, but I could make out the figures standing in the center of the room, and the bench they stood around.
I heard Heather say into the silence that followed the wall’s falling into the room, “Perfect timing. You motherfuckers have thirty seconds to decide. Either you show your newfound loyalty to me and Ivan Antonov, and grab Belkonov for me, or you die.”
I shook my head, affection—no, love—for her filling my heart, alongside anxiety for her safety and the sheer desire to get her out of there and into my arms as soon as humanly possible. The thought that she and the Pretorian Guard had played me for a complete fool occurred to me, as I listened to Heather’s perfect accent.
You needed to be played for a fool, I told myself.You had no way out, on your own.
The Guard had sent in sixmilites—the equal, as far as I could tell, of any elite special forces in the world. They remained completely silent; if the plan was going to work, Heather had to show herself entirely in charge of them, as well as of the situation as a whole.
The dust had rapidly begun to settle around the six people in the dungeon. The view through the leadmiles’ helmet camera, of the magnificent, naked young woman in the midst of the fully clothed men, took my breath away. She had her arms folded across her chest, underneath her adorable little breasts, apparently unconscious of her nudity. They, on the other hand, seemed the naked ones; the fact that three of them had their rapidly softening cocks out didn’t help, either.
To the right of me, I heard Helena chuckle.
“She’s something,” theagnasaid. “I’ll let her tell you about her recruitment. Not a great look for us, really, but we do know how to choose the right people even if we sometimes have to use… extraordinary measures, let’s say, to bring them in.”
On the screen, I watched the four lieutenants obey my beautiful naked concubine—the young woman they had thought utterly at their command, the girl they had gotten so hard thinking about whipping and fucking so hard and so long that she hardly noticed when they killed her.
“But…” Belkonov spluttered—literally spluttered, because I could see the drops of spit flying from his mouth as his former minions turned to their new mistress with compliant eyes. “But… is the wand fake?”
The helmet camera swung from him to Heather—the leadmileswas clearly interested in hearing her answer, too.
The smile on the face of the girl I loved, for her submission and for her power, made my heart glow.
“Nyet, Boris Viktorivich,” she said, her voice as scornful and dismissive as if she were a Tsarina returned from ages past. “It’s not fake at all. The secret is that it can’t make me do anything I don’t really want to do, deep down.”
Heather let the news sink in, with all its strange and fascinating implications.
