Blaire's World: Volume One

by Box Set

  One of the soldiers gives me a hammer, and I swing it between my hands.

  “Did you really think you’d get away with this?”

  “It wasn’t about getting away with it.” He chuckles. “It was about getting my dick wet.”

  “A dick you’re going to lose before the day is out,” I sneer back and swing the hammer fast and into his left kneecap. The bone smashes under the strength of the blow, and it’s eerie crack fills the room. We aren’t in the mansion. This is where we bring the people who really need punishing. The screams from what we’re about to do would be heard in the house despite the soundproofing. That’s how violent this will get before the night is out. The man screams. It’s involuntary and a natural reaction to the pain that cascades through his body. He’s not a small man by any measure, but in my presence, he’s dwarfed. Three other soldiers stand within the room. They’re the men who found him and brought him here. Their reward was to administer the first injuries – a broken nose, a swollen eye, split lip, and tattoos removed from his skin, but I get the kill. I’m the avtoritet. The deadliest person next to the Pakhan. Nobody tries to take away this authority from me. They all know the sickness that lies within my head and have witnessed it on numerous occasions. I’ve killed, maimed, and tortured without thought or consequence. I’ve exchanged substantial monetary gain for creating hell on earth for those who have wronged my boss. My soul is black, and all because they stole a little boy from his loving parents. They created the monster I am, and they reap the benefits when I allow the shadows to fall and my true nature to take over.

  I swing the hammer again, and it shatters his other kneecap. I let out a pleasured groan at the sound as it ignites the fires of hell within me. I need more. I crave it. I want his destruction.

  Slam. The hammer swiftly comes down on his hand and deforms the fingers that dared to touch a precious soul. An innocent child. His cries of agony fuel me further, and I break the other hand without even drawing breath.

  It’s then I realize I’m hard. My cock standing to attention within my slacks. Fuck! The darkness has claimed me completely. Dropping the hammer I stalk toward my prisoner.

  “Was getting your dick wet really worth the pain you’re suffering at the moment?” I yank his head up and stare deeply into his eyes. They are as dead as the eyes I see staring back at me when I look in the mirror. Soulless without regret or guilt. He’s an evil fuck who’ll never show remorse. He knew what the repercussions would be. He knew it would lead to his death, but at least he’d the guts to do what he wanted, no matter how evil. That’s the difference between us. Amaya slams into my consciousness. Her body twisted and broken at the hands of the Pakhan. I could save her, but I won’t. I can’t. I’m not strong enough to fight against what I’ve been told to accept as my destiny. That is why I shot at my father all those years ago. My attention turns back to the sick pervert in front of me. Although he has shown himself to be stronger than me, I’m the one who’ll bring about his death. I push his head back and turn to the other soldiers.

  “It’s time.” They look at me in confusion. “Who wants to show they have the balls to be a future avtoritet?” A brash solider named Andrei steps forward. I’ve seen him a few times with Amaya. I know he’s hit her on at least one occasion. I smirk inwardly.

  “I’ll do it.” He spits at the naked man tied down to a chair with his hands and knees dangling at awkward angles.

  I pull my knife out of my pocket and hand it to Andrei.

  “You know what to do?” I question.

  “Ultimate insult?”

  “Yes.”

  I don’t take a step back but hover closer to him as he takes the man’s genitals in his hand and brings the knife to them.

  “Take a good look at what happens next, Oliver Volkov. We’ll share the same fate. I see it in your eyes.”

  I raise a skeptical eyebrow at the condemned man, but inside, a shiver chills down my spine, for I know he speaks the truth. I’m a dead man walking because my heart has started to beat again. Amaya has captured me in her spell, and it won’t be long before tragedy comes knocking at our door.

  “Do it,” I order Andrei, and the solider slices the man’s balls and dick off with a clean cut. Blood flows freely from the injury, and the excruciating cry of a pain so deep has all of us cupping our own manhood’s to check they’re intact. Andrei takes the severed parts and shoves them into the man’s mouth. Another soldier brings him the tape, and they seal it over his mouth and nose. Now we wait. It won’t be long. He’s bleeding out and unable to breath as he swallows down his own blood and dick. I fold my arms across my chest. The dark mists of who I really am swirl around me – their tendrils wrap around my arms and legs, sliding down toward my own dick. I’m so fucking hard I could pound nails into the strongest brick wall.

  The man starts to convulse. He’s choking as he struggles for air. His bowels loosen at the last moment, and the stench of his shit fills the rooms. I place my hand over my nose. On his last breath, he looks directly at me. His pupils are as black as the night sky outside, but they speak volumes. The devil has claimed him and drags him down into the fiery pits of hell where I’ll be joining him soon.

  His head falls forward and the room goes quiet. I pull the gun from my jacket pocket, aim it at the back of Andrei’s head, and pull the trigger. As he slumps forward his brains splatter all over me and the dead rapist. The other two soldiers stare at me in wide eyed horror. A plea for their lives is at the tips of their tongues, but they’re safe.

  “Clean this mess up. Both of them. Make sure nothing can be traced back to us.” I lock the safety on my gun and put it back in my pocket. “Learn your lesson here, today.” I kick my foot out at Andrei’s dead body. “I’m the only avtoritet here. Show your cards too early with any plans to betray me, and you’ll end up like him.”

  Both men nod. I’m pretty sure the smell of shit isn’t just coming from the dead men.

  “I’m the authority next to the Pakhan. Disobey me, and I’ll have no qualms about sticking a bullet in your heads. I’ll be back later to check on your work.”

  Without looking back, I stalk out of the room like a cat after its prey. I know exactly where I’m going. I’ve hidden away for long enough. I’m a man who takes what he wants, and right now, what I want is Amaya. I just hope she’s ready for what she’s about to get.

  8

  AMAYA

  “Are you sure?” I ask Rea as she wipes the tears away from her eyes. We’re in my room and sitting on my bed.

  “I managed to get a pregnancy test from one of our maids. I don’t know what to do. He’s going to kill me. I won’t even be able to tell him who’s baby it is.” The tears that have been falling down her cheeks since I found her crying in the bathroom start again in earnest, and I bring her into my arms and hold her tightly. “How can the stupid injection not work? This isn’t supposed to happen.”

  “Nothing is ever hundred percent reliable, except for abstinence, but I guess that isn’t really possible in our situation.”

  She sits back on her heels on my bed, and I try to give her a look of reassurance that everything will be alright, but even I know that the Pakhan is violent at the best of times, and over the last few days, he’s been particularly cruel. I have a darkening black eye to prove that, along with an aching jaw where he forced me to give him a blow job earlier. I swear he has the worst tasting cum in the world. He must eat a lot of red meat and onions to make it so bitter. Mind you he always has a cigarette or cigar in his mouth, which doesn’t help.

  “I have to go and tell him.” Rea slides from the bed.

  “Why don’t you wait a few days?” I suggest. “You can get it straighter in your head…I mean, what you want to say to him. It’ll be better than going to him like this.”

  She looks down at the floor and back at me. I can tell she’s schooling her features.

  “We don’t have children, Amaya. That’s what his wife is for. We’re here to give him the plea
sure he doesn’t get from her. By being pregnant, I’ll be useless to him for a time. He won’t have that. I’ll be forced to have an abortion.” She gulps. “Maybe more if I can’t be trusted not to stop this from happening. I need to just get the inevitable over and done with.”

  She goes to turn and leave, but my bedroom door bursts open. The handle hits the wall with the force of the intrusion, causing plaster to splinter onto the floor.

  “Oli.... Mr. Volkov…” I frown at him and realize he’s covered in blood, and his eyes are almost black, the pupils are so dilated. “Is everything ok?”

  He turns to Rea, “Out.”

  She turns back to me and then scrambles out of the room as though someone has lit a fire under her feet, closing the door behind her.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask again.

  “You’re mine,” Oliver replies. He’s so on edge I can feel the energy radiating off of him. His eyes flick to the bed and to the pregnancy test, which Rea and I had been praying would turn out negative. He sucks in a sharp inhalation of air. “You?”

  I shake my head, and he looks back to the door Rea has just left through.

  “Shit!” he exclaims before stalking across the room toward me. I push backward on the bed, and then his lips are on mine. They are hot, soft, and demanding all at the same time. I’m melting under his mouth’s assault. He flips me over and pushes the skirt I’m wearing up my thighs.

  “Have to have you. This won’t be pretty. This won’t be making love. This will be fucking until you’re raw and bleeding all over my cock. I’m not going to ask your permission for this, Amaya. I’m going to take what I need from you. You have one chance to stop me. Tell me to go now, and I will, but I won’t ever come back again. One chance.”

  His words send a spark of pleasure straight down to my clit. I’m wet in an instant, and I know I’ll take him however he desires me. I’ve wanted him since the first moment I saw him, and I’ll allow him to do whatever he wants to me. My body is his to play with. I push my hips back and grind them against the hard bulge in his trousers. It’s enough to unleash the beast behind me. My clothes are torn from my body with ease, and he shoves three fingers mercilessly into me. It burns like nothing I felt before – pain mixed with pleasure. Desire blended with the feeling of being brought to the edge of what I can handle. He pumps his fingers in and out of me at a steady pace. His thumb swirls around my clit, and I’m writhing underneath him. The feeling between my thighs is intense. I’ve come with a few of the men I’ve been with, sometimes it’s unavoidable with so much stimulation down there no matter how much you don’t want it, however this is completely different. It may sound strange, but I feel like my body has taken on a life of its own. I could try to prevent it from responding to the touch of a man who won’t save me from brutal assaults, but I know it won’t listen. My body’s preparing itself to take him even as my brain is screaming at it to stop. I’ve been raped and brutalized over the last month, but I want nothing more than this man between my legs, showing me how good sex can be. His pressure increases – I can feel the start of an orgasm, thundering through me from my toes to the tips of my fingers, and even in the roots of my hair. Every sensation is surging its way through my body toward my clit, which throbs and pulsates at every rough stroke of his calloused fingers. He’s covering me in the blood and remains of another human, but I don’t care. Not when the center of the world is at my core. His fingers hook inside me and stroke the sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s enough to send me into a climax so powerful I might black out. I’m struggling for breath, and my body is melting into a puddle of jelly. Everything is sensitive and filled with such an intense pleasure I’d no idea it was possible to feel. Oliver withdraws his fingers from me and flips me over, so I’m lying on my back once again. I’m barely conscious of what he’s doing until I see him lowering his trousers. The foggy post-climactic haze clears, allowing me to see his dick as he stands up tall and strokes its full length. The man has big hands, but damn, holding his erect cock, they look dwarfed. I suck in a fearful breath and shudder. It’s then I notice the line of metallic bars on the underside of the shaft.

  “A Jacob’s ladder,” I hiss in shock. “I…I…” On instinct, I close my legs. He’s going to rip me apart.

  He smirks at me, though, and pushes them open again.

  “No, you don’t. You had your chance to stop this, and you didn’t. You’ve got the monster here now, and he’s ready to play.”

  “That’s hardly fair. I didn’t have all the facts. You kept that a secret.” I wave at his dick, while he still strokes it, and I swear it gets even bigger.

  He licks his lips with a dark look on his face and places the tip of his length at my entrance.

  “You’ll take me, Amaya. You want this as much as I do. You might not be able to walk for a while afterward, but you’ll be mine, so it won’t matter.”

  Before I have a chance to protest, he pushes the first inch into me. I pant out breaths trying to bring as much air into my lungs as possible. The first metal bar pops inside, and I’m not sure this can ever become pleasurable. At the moment, I just feel I’m being torn apart.

  “Bleed for me, Amaya.” Oliver pushes another inch and bar inside. I groan and try to relax at the intrusion. “Embrace the dark in me. I take what is mine. I mark it. Call for the monster.”

  Another few inches and bars follow his words. I feel like I’m on the verge of passing out, and I’m not sure if it’s from pleasure or pain. Everything is just so full, so taut, so different.

  Oliver pushes into his hilt and stills. The room is silent except for his heavy breaths and my whimpers. He pulls his shirt off, and his corded body is revealed to me in all its glory for the first time. He is muscled and completely covered in tattoos. All the pain I was feeling, dissipates to be replaced with the need for movement.

  “Please,” I stutter with tears falling from my eyes.

  “Please what?” he asks – his voice full of velvety dominance.

  “Please,” I repeat. “Please fuck me.”

  I’m lost. I’m his.

  Mind, body, and soul. The tethers of the sanity I’ve been holding onto since I was brought here are broken. All I want is for Oliver to move, to fuck me, to make me his, and to claim me as he says he will. Somewhere along the way, I’ve developed feelings for this man who holds my life in his hands – a man so powerful that while lying here, he could lean over and snap my neck as his thick, pierced dick comes inside me. But I’m not scared – I want it. I want it all and as rough as he can give it to me. I have to have it this way. I’ve never been the princess of my childhood dreams. I’m the filthy, dirty, little whore who opens her legs on command, but this is the first time I choose to willingly open them for someone I desire.

  Oliver grips me tightly around the neck, and I snap out of my reflection when he starts to withdraw his length from me and slams it hard back in. His piercings could be tearing up my insides, but I don’t feel anything other than overriding pleasure every time he surges into me.

  “Stay with me,” he demands, bending over to kiss my lips. His mouth warm against mine and tender in comparison to the brutality down below. “Consensual,” he grunts. “Healing.” Another thrust.

  “Us,” I reply and meet his gaze. His eyes are as black as the night. He truly looks like a human possessed by a demon, at the moment. A wild animal rutting with an urgent desire to satisfy the burning need within him. His grip around my neck tightens, and with my breathing restricted, I struggle to bring air into my lungs. He locks his tongue with mine, preventing me from drawing in oxygen via my mouth. I’m lightheaded, and my vision at the edge of my pupils fades, but at my core, I feel the orgasm building again. More intense, more powerful than the first. I can’t do anything to stop it, and it slams into me like a freight train. I pulsate with shuddering jerks under Oliver who slams into me once more and stills. I feel his cock spurt out his essence within me. He moans my name, and it’s the last thing I hear before the
blackness claims me.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but when I wake, I’m settled in my bed with my covers over me and despite being uncomfortable down below, I don’t feel any of the stickiness of a sexual encounter. Was it all a dream? No, it can’t have been. I’m sore. Yeah, that’s going to hurt for a few days. I’ve been well and truly fucked.

  “Is it bad?” Oliver’s asks, and I turn to find him sitting in a chair beside the bed. He’s wearing his trousers but has not replaced his shirt.

  “A little. I’ll be fine.”

  He hands me a glass of water from the table next to my bed.

  “Good.”

  “What happened?” I look to where his shirt is on the floor and covered in blood. Specks still mar the perfect features of his face.

  “Nothing. Just my job.” He shrugs his shoulders and leans back in the chair. I can see his tattoos better at this angle.

  “You killed someone?”

  ‘I’m not going to talk about it.”

  His words are adamant, and I know to drop the subject. We both fall into silence for a moment. I take the opportunity to look further over his tattoos. He has a sun that sits behind a skull with three ray’s emanating from its hollowed-out eyes. I know some of the cartel members back in Mexico have ink that means something in relation to the position they hold and what they’ve done. I wonder if it’s the same with the marks on Oliver’s body.

  “What does the sun mean?” I ask him, and he lowers his head to look at where it sits on his left pectoral muscle.

  “I was in prison,” he replies curtly, and I realize with the mood he’s in that it’s going to be hard to get much out of him – however, something in me wants to persevere. He could’ve left after he’d had sex with me, but for some reason he stayed, and I want to try to figure out what that was.