by Twyla Turner
“AAAAAAH!!!” She screams at the top of her lungs.
I can see her pink pussy lips squeezing him. Her entire body is vibrating uncontrollably as the climax that has been building for weeks finally shatters through her.
I am so turned on that I cannot stop the orgasm that burns down my spine and explodes from my cock. I refuse to make a sound as my load shoots into the condom.
Ivan shouts his release seconds later.
I hate him.
He was my savior. He was my only family. He has had my undying loyalty. Until I fell in love for the first time in my twenty-eight years and he used my love against me.
Monique eases off of my lap as Ivan pulls out of Winter. As if we have both been used like disposable items.
Winter’s body is prostrate as it hangs from the swing. Like she has given up.
I quickly remove the condom and tuck away my flaccid dick. I rise from the chair and move towards the door, following Rochelle and Monique. I do not want to see anymore.
“Skotina, take her upstairs.” Ivan stops me.
More mental and emotional torture.
Never in my life have I wanted to kill someone as badly as I want to kill him right now. I would punch his pretty face until his skull became mush. Until he was unrecognizable. But I can’t. His other guards would descend on me like wraiths from hell. They would kill me. And that would leave Winter alone with an army of guards with no leadership and no one to stop them from using her like their own personal sex toy. In the past, Ivan had paid a couple of prostitutes thousands of dollars extra after being used by his guards. They never walked away without a limp and they had actually been willing participants. And I’ve already seen the way they watched her. Winter would not survive it.
No. I could not kill him. Not yet.
He leans in to speak softly to Winter, but loud enough for me to hear. “One more night, you can stay in your room. Tomorrow you move into mine.”
Winter turns her head away from him. Her eyes fall on me. A single tear from the outer corner of her eye slips down her temple and falls to splash against the hardwood floor.
Ivan straightens himself up and then struts towards me like a peacock. He pats a hand against my shoulder like he is congratulating me on a job well done. I imagine breaking all of his fingers. Then he strides from the room. Leaving only Winter and myself.
I hesitantly walk towards her. She looks away from me and squeezes her eyes shut. As if she cannot stand the sight of me. I am used to that. Just not from her. I have finally become a monster to her too.
I unstrap her arms, and they fall like weights at her sides. I slowly ease each leg out of their straps. Her toes barely brush the floor. I grab her waist and lift her from the swing. I place her on the floor, and her legs start to buckle. I reach for her to steady her and she rips herself out of my hands as a sob escapes her throat.
“Don’t touch me!” She growls at me.
I raise my hands in surrender.
Her movements are jerky as she wraps her dress around her and ties it together at her waist. On shaky legs, she walks out of the room perfumed with our sex. I follow her dutifully.
There are people still mingling outside, on the other side of the glass. I hear the murmurs and catch a few words here and there as we turn to walk down the hallway.
“Beautiful.”
“Stunning.”
“Ivan is so fucking lucky.”
“I want her for myself.”
He has reduced her to nothing more than an object to be used. When she is so much more than that. She is smart, sweet, kind, willful, and determined. Her beauty is only the icing on the cake.
We do not speak. We do not touch. We don’t even look at each other as we ride the elevator up to Ivan’s penthouse apartment.
I walk with her up the stairs to her room. For some reason I do not understand, I walk into her room behind her. When I should be closing and locking the door behind her.
Maybe it is because I want to make sure she is alright. Maybe I want to make sure I am alright. I don’t know. All I know is I walk in, close the door, and merely stand there gazing at her back.
She knows I am here. I can tell by the set of her stiff shoulders. She can sense me.
Those same stubborn shoulders begin to shake uncontrollably. Winter starts to sink to the floor, and I run to grab her from behind.
Painful sobs wrack her body as she lets go. Each one rips me to shreds. She realizes that she is in my arms and goes wild.
“Don’t touch me!” She screams as she pulls away from me. She turns and then starts beating on my chest and slapping my face as she continues. “You let him. You let him. You let him break me.”
I deserve everything she is giving me. I stand there and take every hit. Trying to absorb her pain.
I eventually clutch her face between my hands, forcing her to look at me. I try to convey all of my regret and pain through my eyes.
Winter stops fighting. Tears cling to her bottom lids.
I don’t know who moves first. All I know is that one minute I am looking into her broken eyes and the next she is in my arms.
Our mouths crash against each other.
~~~
The moment Ivan thrust into me. Penetrating me. Breaking me. Making me feel things I didn’t want to feel. Pulling an orgasm from me that I didn’t want to give. He shattered my world.
Who am I now? Still the good girl my mom raised me to be? Why, because I didn’t want it or ask for it? A bad girl? Because I enjoyed every part of it? A slut? Because right now, as I’m wrapped in Yury’s arms, I want more?
I want the big, scarred man to fill me to capacity. Erasing any signs of Ivan from my memory. From my body.
I want to give myself to him wholeheartedly. To have a say in what happens to my body. To willingly make the choice. Without coercion.
I know I should be furious with the scarred man. He’s the one who snatched me from my bed to bring me here. He’s the one who made me fall for him with his sweet, yet sad face. He’s the one that truly broke me. But I just can’t be mad. Not fully. Ivan used him as a pawn in the game of chess he’s been playing with me.
I shudder in Yury’s arms and focus on our first kiss.
His full shapely pink lips are soft and demanding. All of the tension and frustration that has been building between us since that moment on the sidewalk is finally overflowing from our too full cups.
He nips and licks at my bottom lip, and I immediately open up for him on a gasp. He strokes my cheeks with his calloused thumbs as his tongue strokes mine desperately.
Through all of the sexual things I’ve been through the last few weeks, kissing hadn’t been part of it. I had no idea how much I missed it. Needed it. Until this moment.
My heart is beating in my ears like it did earlier when his tongue was on my clit. He made my whole body feel like that tight little bud between my thighs. Hypersensitive.
Yury releases my lips and wipes away the tears running down my face. His movements bring a smell to my nose. Another woman. Monique. I pull back, feeling jealousy fill me once more.
“I can smell her on you.”
Yury quickly lets me down to the floor. He clasps my hand and guides me to the bathroom. I watch as he turns on the shower and then turns towards me, reaching for the buttons on his black shirt. I’m held spellbound as he undresses in front of me.
Once his shirt falls to the floor, and he’s left bare from the waist up, I suck air sharply between my teeth in pained shock. Not only did the scars continue down his neck, but they crisscrossed down his shoulder, arm, chest, and side. Basically, the whole left side of his upper body was covered in pale white, raised scars.
I can’t even imagine what it was that had done this to him. If it was Ivan, I'd kill him myself.
I step closer to him. My hand reaches out to touch the scars. My fingertips lightly trace them, and I feel him tremble. I take the last few steps towards him. My mouth finds the scars, and I kis
s them softly.
A strangled noise comes from Yury’s throat, and he pulls me into the shower with him. Him, half dressed. Me, still fully clothed.
His lips frantically find mine. His tongue strokes mine. Dipping in, making my pulse race. He roughly tugs at my now wet dress, until I’m naked. I hear the dress drop with a heavy, wet thwack as he tosses it to the floor. He quickly shucks off his pants, and they join my dress on the floor.
His penis is once more, hard as a rock. And as beautiful as I thought before. But this time it is mine to touch.
My fingers graze his length, and he growls. He reaches for the bar of soap and hands it to me. I look up at him, and he nods. “Go ahead. Wash me clean.”
I begin to rub the soap across his body. Lathering him up. Removing her scent and hopefully the memory of her.
Although half of his body is scarred, it in no way diminishes how beautiful his body is. His muscles seem perfectly crafted. Everything about him is massive.
When I reach his erection, I have to use both hands to stroke the soap over him. His size scares and excites me.
He brushes my hand away and shakes his head. “I can’t take much more.”
Yury takes the soap and begins to run it across my body. I’m sure as much as I wanted to wash him clean of her, he wants to rid me of any signs of Ivan just as much.
My breath quickens as his hands cup my breasts. His soapy thumbs circle my nipples. I arch my back, pressing them further into his hands.
His large rough hands glide over my body with ease as the slick suds slide down my skin. One hand slips down my tummy. His thick fingers curve to cup my mound. One digit strokes up and down my slit. On every upward stroke, he gently circles his finger around my clit. I find myself holding onto his thick arms for dear life as my hips instinctively roll against his seeking hand.
After all of the withheld orgasms, only one hadn’t been enough. My body is ready for so much more. And it will gladly take all of what Yury is willing to give.
Yury uses his free hand to press up against my chin, lifting my lips to his. He captures my mouth, and I sigh into him. His tongue flicks against mine as his finger flicks my clit. The simultaneous stimulation makes my knees tremble, and I gasp against his tongue.
“Yury, please,” I beg against his lips.
He moves me under the full spray of the shower. Rinsing me off. Soaked with water, Yury carries me out of the shower, through the bathroom, and into my bedroom. He quickly strides towards the bed and lays me down, unconcerned with our drenched bodies.
He climbs into the bed with me. He sits back on his haunches and lifts me up. He positions me over his thick shaft. Slowly he lowers me down to his awaiting erection. His fat tip breaches my opening, and I gasp as my body tries to stretch to accommodate him. I hold onto his shoulders as he begins to fill me to capacity.
“Yury, it hurts,” I gasp in pain.
Considering what happened earlier, I’d think that I would be ready for him. Ivan was big, but he was no match for Yury’s size, though.
He lays me back onto the covers and withdraws. He moves down my body and reaches the apex of my legs. He unleashes his talented tongue on me again. It isn’t long before his swirls, and languid laps bring me back to the brink. This time though, I’m allowed to fall.
“Aaaaah!” I cry out as I come, bucking against his mouth.
My climax isn’t even over when Yury climbs up my body and eases himself inside my fluttering canal. The slickness of my orgasm eases the way for him. He dips his manhood within me, shallowly. This time it feels so good, and I rise up to meet him.
“Unh! Yes, Yury! That feels so good.” I can’t help but call out. Letting him know that I’m alright.
Once he knows, he unleashes his full power on me. I thought I was ready. I am not.
My breath is caught in my throat. My mouth is agape, but no sound escapes. Silent screams are trapped.
Yury rolls his hips and punctuates each inward stroke with hard thrusts right at the end. Soft, slow rolls. Hard, fast thrusts. Gasps escape my lips on every thrust. My next words shock me.
“Faster, please!”
What made me think I was ready for faster from this beast of a man, I will never know.
Yury grips my hips and drives into me with powerful pumps that don’t let up. The sound of our flesh smacking together fills my ears and the room.
He gathers me up within his strong arms, holding me tight to him as he strokes into me. My hands clutch his wide back. My nails dig into his skin trying to find purchase as my body begins to crest. My mouth finds the corded muscles of his shoulder. My teeth bite down as I reach the peak.
“I love you.”
Though they were rough, deep, and breathless, those three words rip from his throat clear as day. The shock of hearing them from his lips and the depth of their meaning hit me right as I fall over the edge.
A scream tears through my chest and I let it go. My entire body quakes and my vagina spasms around him convulsively.
He raises up to look down at me as he continues to plunge deep. The words that passed through his lips were written all over his face. I reach up to clasp his face between my hands. His scarred face contorts as his climax reaches its peak. I feel his shaft ripple, and his mouth pops open with a gasp as he cums deep inside of me.
I hadn’t even considered him putting on a condom. I probably should have, but I wanted him to claim me unlike any man had before. I wanted him to feel all of me. I wanted him to feel me in a way that even Ivan hadn’t felt.
No matter what Ivan said or wanted, I am now Yury’s in every way.
~~~
I collapse half on top of Winter. I try not to put my full weight on her or I will surely crush her. We pant in each other’s ear. I feel the damp warmth of her breath against the side of my face as she comes down from her orgasm.
Once she can finally breathe normally again, I hear her speak against my neck.
“Oh my God! You can speak?!”
“Yes,” I say as I rise up to look down at her.
Those three words had slipped through my lips before I even had time to think about it. Something about those three words being my first in decades, without thought, speaks to the moment.
This woman has torn down my walls. Opened my heart. Tamed the beast. Made me feel human again. She makes me feel safe. The last time I felt safe was when I was five-years-old in the orphanage in St. Petersburg and a kind nun would give me hugs because I was starved for affection.
“Then why don’t you?” She asks curiously.
“In my world, it is best to stay silent.”
I haven’t spoken since I was little, so the deep bass of my voice even surprises me. It sounds strange. Foreign.
Winter nods in understanding.
It is actually painful to talk through my unused throat and vocal cords. And as many countries as I have lived in and of all the languages I have picked up, it almost makes me smile that I have a distinct Russian accent.
“When was the last time you spoke?”
“I was five.”
“Oh wow! Really?”
I nod.
“Why now? Why to me?”
I clear my throat, preparing myself to say more than I ever have. “After what happened tonight, it is the least I could do for you. And because I meant those words. And because you make me feel safe to be…me.”
“Oh… Thank you,” Winter says bashfully.
She clasps either side of my face and then raises her lips up to my damaged face. She places soft kisses against the old scars, and I swear to God I want to cry like a baby.
I have never been shown love before. Never.
I had no parents. No family to speak of. I had no girlfriends. Only passing affairs with women who could stomach to look at me long enough to fuck. Not even friends.
Nothing. And no one.
No one except Ivan.
I have no personal life to speak of. Almost my every minute is devoted to pr
otecting Ivan. I am not a normal guard. I am his guard dog.
He had been wrong all those years ago. He had said I would not want for anything. But that was a lie. Yes, I have nice clothes in the standard black bodyguard uniform. I have a roof over my head and good food to eat. But I want more. And it was not until I met the woman lovingly kissing my hideous face that I realized that.
She finally pulls back and looks up at me sweetly. She returns no words of love back to me. It hurts a little, but I check myself. I cannot expect her to love me yet. If ever. Not when I have played a major role in her captivity. Not when I look like a monster and act like one too.
Her kisses would have to be enough for now.
I ease my flaccid shaft from her warmth and roll to the side. I lay my hand palm up between us on the pillows. Winter immediately lays her hand on top and entwines her fingers with mine. I squeeze them tightly.
She is quiet for a while and then she asks the million dollar question she’s asked before.
“Why do you work for him? Why do you do the terrible things he asks you to do?”
“I owe Ivan my life.”
Winter raises her hand and places it against my ruined face. “Does this have something to do with it?”
I nod. My heart is pounding. No one has ever touched my scarred face with a look of affection on theirs.
I want to kiss her. I don’t. But I want to. More than anything. But that will only lead to more lovemaking, and I owe her an explanation.
“What happened?”
I swallow, trying to lubricate my dry, rough throat. It’s painful to talk, but it is time to exorcise my demons.
“I was an orphan and stolen from the orphanage by a terrible man when I was five. He was fond of cutting out the tongues of children who complained, cried, or snitched. That is when I stopped talking. He trained children to fight for underground fighting rings. Where men would bet on children, like dogs. I lost a big fight, and he lost a lot of money. So he threw me to those dogs. Literally. I tried to protect my body, but they still got me. Tearing the skin from my bones. Ivan snatched me out before it was too late and offered to take me under his wing. I was eight. It was a better choice than dying on the dirty floor.” I finish, and my throat is almost raw now.