SNUFFED: SNUFF Sequel - Part One

by Bonny Capps

  “Why are you afraid, mouse? What have I done?”

  Letting out a shaky breath, my eyes travel up to his as he towers above me. “I–I tried to tell him. I’ve only ever skated solo … he wouldn’t listen to me.”

  Dimitri surveys me momentarily before his eyes soften and he reaches towards me. My eyes snap from his extended hand before our gaze meets once more.

  “Stand up,” he demands, softly.

  I oblige, placing my small hand in his large one, and allowing him to pull me to my feet. He leads me towards the fire of the dining hall before grabbing a remote from the mantel. The room fills with a dark, classical melody as he begins circling me. The tiny, blonde hairs on my back raise in anticipation. Will he hurt me or love me?

  “How will he touch you?” Dimitri whispers against my neck, but he doesn’t touch me.

  I can only feel his raspy breaths as they work themselves in and out of his lungs. I no longer smell the food that sits abandoned on the table; I only smell the spice of his cologne and a mixture of stale cigarettes and vodka that sits on his tongue.

  “Tell me,” he breathes out, shooting a chill down my spine.

  “I–I don’t know,” I mutter, feeling the heat build between the apex of my thighs.

  The familiar unwanted sensation that he bewitches me with when he’s like this invokes a carnal need in me that I cannot for the life of me extinguish once it’s been ignited. He holds the match to my lust and, like a wildfire, it grows and grows only to be fed more by our insatiable whims. It is a fire that is impossible to be snuffed out. Like oxygen, he feeds it, turning anything and everything into pure ash.

  I suck in a breath when his fingers graze my sides before moving on to the opening of my robe. The silk nightgown that I wear beneath tickles my skin as he slides the robe over my shoulders, allowing it to fall to my feet.

  Swiftly, he grasps my waist and whips me around to face him. I look up at him through lust drunk eyes, and he smiles knowingly, stepping back as he runs a hand through his hair. I watch as he begins unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the masculinity that is below; from his nautical star tattoos, to his strong chest, to his abs and from there, the dark trail of hair that contrasts against his pale skin, leading to the thick bulge in his pants.

  “I imagine that your chests will touch,” he rasps before grasping my waist and snatching me towards him. I swallow hard as he allows his hands to roam to the small of my back. “Like this,” he murmurs, staring down at me, and I nod.

  “And his fingers will blaze with every touch of your alabaster skin.”

  I gasp when he runs his hands over the curve of my ass.

  “His heart will race with anticipation. He’ll imagine himself being here.” He shoves a hand between my ass cheeks, running a finger along the soaked fabric over my slit. My knees nearly buckle, but he holds me still as he teases me with soft, tantalizing strokes.

  “Oh, but he cannot have this. No, no, no.” Dimitri taunts, running his nose along my neck. “That is mine. It is mine to fuck, and it is mine to give.”

  I gasp and try to push away, but his grip only tightens. “Yours to give?” I whisper and he nods.

  “Yes, my mouse. I figured that you’re already tainted, why not use that to my advantage?”

  I shake my head. “But I’m yours.”

  He smiles deviously as he works his fingers around the cotton of my panties before teasing my opening. “You are, Sofia. You’re also an asset, and I was a fool for not recognizing that before. Not only will you show the world how happy we are, me and you, but you will also please the clients that I wish to do business with. This practice isn’t unheard of, my love. I have been selfish with this body.”

  “You promised a normal life Dimitri. For me … for Eva …”

  He smirks. “I did, didn’t I? I will give you that, Sofia. I will. But I have to prove myself as a leader. I have to do what I must do to lead this bratva, even if I have to share.”

  His lips hover above mine as I stare into his eyes through a cloud of tears. “There are a lot of things that you must learn, mouse. I make sacrifices, which means you do too. You are my queen. My beautiful queen. What do you think these powerful, wealthy men long for? The beautiful, blonde queen that rules the castle with her king. She is a forbidden fruit, one that they wish to sink their teeth into, but they cannot. We are going to give them that. We are going to give them a taste of that sweet pussy, and we are going to rule Russia.”

  He makes absolutely no sense, but survival is once again at the forefront of my mind. Powerful, wealthy men. What if I could seduce one of them into helping me? Gain his trust? Make him love me?

  Have him save me…

  I blink the tears away. “I will do whatever you need me to do. Please, can I just see my daughter? Let me see her, let me hold her, let me be her mother, and I swear I will spread my legs for these men.”

  He smiles devilishly as he releases me. Lifting my hand to his mouth, his kisses the top of it softly as he whispers, “YA dam vam mir, lyubov’ moya.”

  I will give you the world, my love.

  “Stop!” Sergei hollers, waving his hands about. “Ilia, put her down.”

  Ilia carefully places my feet atop the ice before backing away from me. It’s as if he’s afraid to get hit with the remnants of Sergei’s blows that he’s sure to reign down on me.

  “Little girl, little girl! You are young, yes, however I’d think that you’d be more talented, more sure of yourself after skating for so many years! If you are unable to balance during an overhead lift, you will fall face first onto the ice!” He grasps my jaw tightly in his hand before leaning in close. “Your face is all you’ve got! You’ve yet to show me any real talent, but beauty … your beauty is undeniable. Do not disappoint me.”

  He turns and retreats from my personal ice rink. Dimitri insisted that our private lessons be held here, but I know it’s just another way for him to keep an eye on me.

  The fact that I’ll be fucking a complete stranger tonight is not lost on me. He’s a politician, this much I know, but only from overhearing Dimitri, Konstantin, and Abram. They spoke as if I wasn’t there at breakfast. I didn’t care though. Because at breakfast, I was given my daughter to hold and to feed. I was so scared that she’d forgotten me, but she didn’t. She didn’t forget me at all.

  “Your rotation isn’t quick enough. When he lifts you, balance and rotate. When he holds you up, balance on the ball of your hand! You are lucky that Ilia has never dropped his partner,” he pauses, narrowing his eyes at me. “Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

  I nod quickly before posing in the center of the ice once more. Failure isn’t an option. Dimitri has given me so, so many opportunities to go home. Whether or not he thinks that I’ve got the guts to do it—that’s on him. Mine and Eva’s escape, that’s on me, and as I begin to glide with Ilia at my side, that is the only thing on my mind.

  Placing my hand in Ilia’s, I only see his face as the world blurs around us. The spin causes my blood to pump evenly throughout every vein in my body, and I watch as Ilia mouths, “Trust me.”

  The streetlights illuminate the interior of the car each and every time we pass them. My fingers are entwined in my lap, my palms sweaty from the anticipation. My heart thunders beneath my ribs, and each time the car bumps, my shoulder grazes Konstantin’s.

  A huge bump jolts us forward, but he wraps an arm around me before gently pressing my back against the leather of the chair.

  “Where’s Abram?” I whisper, looking towards him from the corner of my eye.

  “A meeting,” he breathes out, making sure that the driver doesn’t hear us.

  When the car stops suddenly, I place my palm over my stomach. The beads of sweat which spread across my forehead worry me. Will I become sick and displease Dimitri? Will I fail another test?

  I allow a raspy breath to tumble from my lips before the driver’s door opens, and in an instant, Konstantin grasps my jaw and pulls my face to his. �
�When he fucks you, close your eyes and pretend. Pretend that you are somewhere else, far away.”

  “What if he hurts me,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I look up into Konstantin’s promising eyes.

  I watch his jaw tense as he swallows, and the promise in his eyes diminishes as reality sets in. This is happening. This is happening whether we want it to or not.

  I was Dimitri’s whore before I became his wife. Then I became his pawn.

  My eyes never leave Konstantin’s as the door to my fate opens. The driver grasps my arm and pulls me from the car before I can utter a single word to Konstantin; the mysterious man who has my best interest at heart, or so I think, but he remains silent. Just like everyone else in this fucking country. I could lie on the street and rot, be dead for days and nobody would notice, or so it seems.

  As the large driver hauls me across the street, I do not notice so much how my ankles wobble due to the heels that I’m wearing. Nor do I worry about the strapless gown which threatens to fall over my breasts. I only feel the panic, unadulterated fear, because I’m walking into the lion’s den and I don’t know what to expect.

  The shame hasn’t set in yet, but I imagine it will, and it will linger for days, perhaps weeks. How many times will I have to bathe to wash this disgrace from my skin? How scalding hot will the water need to be to dissolve this filth?

  When we approach the huge, brass doors of the hotel, the driver mutters into the piece secured next to the door. I watch him, wondering if he’s entering a code, but he simply presses a button, his voice so low as his words are unheard. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. The reality is that I am standing in the middle of an unknown country … a country unknown to me, even though I’ve been here for what seems like an eternity.

  When the door clicks open, my body stays still, but my soul shakes.

  The driver drags me, but I can’t feel my calves lifting or my feet touching the ground. This moment is surreal, and it’s sure to be burnt into my mind for good.

  Silver doors pass me on both sides, but I’m only watching my black stilettoes as they make their way across the royal blue carpet.

  My heart is now in my throat as we approach the door. I blink repeatedly—erratically—as I try and determine what lies beyond this door. Surely he’ll hurt me, this I’ve come to accept. Trusting my husband to wrap me in the arms of a safe man would be foolish. There is nothing safe about Dimitri. He’s a fucking catastrophe, and I’m the fallout. If I survive, it will be the mere particles of my spirit that return to the Vavilov dacha.

  Nothing more.

  The door opens, and a huge shadow falls over my form. I’m afraid to look, because I know already what I’ll find; another brute to rip apart my soul.

  He grabs me, and my world turns black.

  “Ahh!” I holler, but I’m not sure if I’m heard. I feel like I’m in a cell once more, but the ground beneath me is soft. The music playing subtly sounds like a mashup between Bollywood and trance.

  “Where am I?” I pant.

  I hear a voice, followed by a touch that seems as light as a feather. “It’s alright,” the voice murmurs, causing me to peer up, but everything is a blur. “It’s okay. I gave you a drug. It will make this all easier, yeah?”

  I heave several times, but nothing comes out. At least I think it doesn’t. “Who … are … you …?” I rasp, but I’m not sure if I’m loud enough.

  His laughter is dark, and I try and shake my head, but it only makes me dizzier.

  My head is yanked up, and I’m met with dark eyes. “I am the man you came to see, Krasivyy.”

  I nod. “Yes, but why drug me? I already know what to expect.”

  He sighs. “Perhaps that is true. You were afraid. I wanted to help calm you. The drug will wear off very soon. It isn’t long lasting. Come.” He reaches down, and I stare at his hand cautiously before placing mine in his.

  Standing on wobbly legs, I realize that I’m in a suite of sorts. It’s decorated beautifully, and the large floor to ceiling windows overlook the city of Moscow.

  “I am surprised you do not know who I am, Sofia, but I know you.”

  My eyes travel to him, and I study him momentarily. He’s a politician, a powerful one, so I should know who he is—in normal circumstances, I would. But of course, these circumstances aren’t normal.

  He is a man who has likely paid for me to come here to fuck him. Either he paid, or he is helping the bratva in some way.

  I can’t imagine this man needing to pay for sex, he is handsome even though he’s probably thirty years my senior. His hair is graying around his temples, and his dark eyes are keen, yet kind. He’s very tall, and if I were to guess, muscular beneath the grey suit that he wears.

  Gently, he grasps my arms before turning me towards him. “You are so, so beautiful. I will not hurt you, but I must taste you. I must be inside of you. You understand?”

  My eyelids flutter when he leans down and runs his tongue along my collarbone to my neck. “I am old enough to be your papa,” he whispers against the damp trail his tongue left. “And I’ll take care of you tonight, yeah? Like a good papa would.”

  I nod, instantly feeling sick at how his words dampened the thin strap of fabric between my thighs.

  “Turn around,” he murmurs, and I do.

  He begins unzipping the gown as he trails kisses along my spine. Once the gown falls around my feet, he stills behind me. I realize that he’s removed his shirt and jacket when his hard, naked chest presses against my back. His erection digs into my lower back, and I sigh when he slips a hand beneath my brassiere, cupping my breast below.

  He buries his nose into the crook of my neck, and I squirm when he inhales the scent of my hair. “You are like an angel. A beautiful, white haired angel that’s been sent to me for the soul purpose of taking my cock.”

  He slides his hand down my stomach and his fingers dip below the fabric of my panties before he cups my mound. “You have a silky, tight little pussy. I want to taste it.”

  I gasp when he lifts me into his arms and carries me down a long hallway where the moonlight casts shadows across the silver paisley wallpaper.

  Upon entering the room, he sits me on the edge of the bed then kneels down before me Smiling, he traces circles over the goose bump raised skin of my legs as he stares into my eyes. “I’ve joked with your husband about him sharing you with me, if only for one night. He laughed and waved the thought away. When he contacted me asking if I was interested, I’d thought he’d gone mad. I was sure he would change his mind, but here you are. I can only hope that he’ll need many more favors if it means that I can spend many more nights with you.”

  He reaches up behind me and unclasps the brassiere before tossing it to the side. Leaning down, he takes my nipple into his mouth, gently nipping and licking, sending heat rushing to my core.

  He hooks his fingers into the side of my panties before pulling them over my legs, and then he removes my stilettos.

  I’m pushed back onto the mattress, and a raspy breath escapes my lips when he lifts my legs over his shoulders, his eager breaths spreading over my slick folds. My hips buck, but he quickly holds them down when his mouth covers me. My hands instinctively grab at his hair, and he doesn’t stop me as he tastes me, his masterful tongue traveling to all of the right places.

  “Oh my God!” I cry out, and I immediately feel embarrassed, but it seems to please him when he growls and begins lapping at my clit veraciously. I’m at the edge of my release, and it’s so much easier to obtain this abandon when I feel safe. In this older man’s embrace, I do feel safe. I feel safe because he’s older, yes, but his eyes are kind … loving even. I feel safe, because unlike my own father, this man hasn’t lied. He is upfront with his intentions. Unlike Dimitri, and unlike Vadim, this man has never hurt me, at least up until this point.

  My core convulses when I’m thrown over the edge and ecstasy crashes through me. My body moves, and I hold my pussy close to his lips as the remnants
of the orgasm pulse through me.

  When he looks up towards me, he flashes a lopsided grin before crawling over me and pressing his lips to mine, making me taste and smell myself. Pulling away, he runs his fingers through my hair. “I am not going to fuck you with a condom. It is my understanding that you are clean and on birth control. I am also clean. I wish to feel every bit of you, and I want to fill you with my come.”

  I nod haltingly, making him snicker.

  “You remind me of a frightened doe. Big, curious eyes. Like… like Bambi. Have you seen it?”

  I only stare at him. I’m almost in shock from the orgasm he just gave me, and whatever drug he hit me with is wearing off.

  He pushes me further up the bed before standing. He pulls his pants down, and I stare down at his cock. It’s the same size as Dimitri’s, if not bigger. It’s huge. When he falls over me, a shiver racks through me.

  Staring up into his eyes, my lips part when he begins invading my body, stretching and filling my all too wet orifice. It shouldn’t be wet at all. It should be bone dry, stopping him from entering me.

  He leans down, the stubble on his cheek brushing mine as he whispers, “Rasslab’tes’, krasivyy. Pozvil’te mne zabotit’sya o vas.”

  Relax, beautiful. Let me take care of you.

  Walking hastily back to the car, I feel the burning bile build in the back of my throat. Shame prickles my skin, and my mind is tormented with memories of the older man’s face between my thighs … his cock inside of me.

  There is no need to be accompanied during my walk of shame, because the invisible chains lead me back to the car. I obviously will not attempt to escape. Dimitri knows that. Where would I go? How would I get to Eva?

  The car waits outside in the same exact place I left it. I look around, waiting for the driver to come out and open my door, but he doesn’t. Instead it opens from the inside, and Konstantin scoots over, making room for me.

  I slide onto the seat and slam the door shut. I feel Konstantin’s eyes on me, but I don’t care to look at him. I wish only to go home, scrub my body raw, and hold my daughter in my arms—allowing her to be a stark reminder of why I did what I did.