Her own bottom was still tender, but she doubted that it had any real marks upon it. Jahn seemed to be content to see how red he could make it, using his hand alone. She remembered how fearful she had been when he had threatened to use his belt. Now the idea didn’t seem frightening at all.
It wasn’t fair. He had stirred her curiosity and there was no time left to explore how far she could go. Lena shut her eyes tightly as tears threatened. She got angry. No crying, no whining. That was the girl who had come here a week ago. This one would leave with dignity. She would make Jahn proud.
When she opened her eyes, Jahn was awake and looking at her with concern.
“Are you alright?”
Lena smiled. “Of course I’m not alright. I’ve been lying here waiting for you to wake up to attend me.”
Jahn grinned. “You really haven’t got a handle on this yet, have you, on who is serving who?”
“Well, I can hardly serve you when you’re sleeping the day away.”
“Okay, then.” Jahn rolled onto his back and threw off the covers, revealing his erection. “Start serving.”
Lena giggled as she got up onto her hands and knees. “Yes, Master.”
* * * *
Opening his eyes, Dylan looked around at his surroundings and had a vague memory of being carried into this strange apartment. There was a catheter taped to his hand and his head felt thick from drugs, but the pain was bearable. He was lying on a thick mattress and was comfortable. As he grew more alert, he grinned at the memory of the man who had given him all this, and so much more.
The stranger had bathed him and applied antiseptic to his wounds. The hard, handsome face had frowned back at Dylan’s amusement, but he’d shown no repulsion, no hint of being uncomfortable. With some effort he remembered the name, Jahn.
A tear ran down his face. It had been a short, sad life, and there had been many men, but none like this one. There had definitely not been a more tender moment than when this muscled, tattooed and dangerous looking man had held him in a bath, gently cleaning what remained of his body.
Hearing a noise, he rolled over to see Jahn sitting at the computer. He had headphones on and a stern, deep frown as he punched at a button on the keyboard. Just to look at him, Dylan’s heart grew peaceful, and he waited patiently until those incredible eyes turned in his direction.
Jahn pulled the headphones off, and the computer was shut down. Getting up, he came to crouch beside him and reached for a bottle of water.
“How are you feeling?”
Dylan grinned. “Wonderful.”
With a straw between his thin lips, Dylan stared at Jahn as he held the bottle for him. He nodded that he had drank enough, and waited while his mouth was wiped and his pillow adjusted.
“What were you listening to?” he asked.
“Trouble,” Jahn growled.
“I haven’t worked you out yet.” Dylan grinned weakly. “Why do you even give a fuck?”
“I don’t know,” Jahn shrugged. “Maybe there’s already enough people who don’t give a fuck. I like to be an individual.”
“And why do you need another name to get out of here? This isn’t the Soviet anymore. People are free to go where they want these days.”
“Not if you have a history like mine. I need a new identity, and yours is looking better by the hour.” He pulled the crumpled passport from his pocket and stared down at the photo. “You were a good looking man once.”
“I was, and nearly as tall as you. We are probably the same age, but this disease has added twenty years.”
Jahn continued to study the passport. “How the hell did you get away with being an Australian citizen?”
Dylan grinned and began to speak in perfect English, with a broad accent. “You just have to know the lingo, mate. The place is multicultural. You don’t stand out, even if you do look like a bloody foreigner.”
Jahn replied in English, but his accent was more refined. “So you are saying that my pronunciation does not need to be so precise.”
Laughing until he groaned, Dylan shook his head. “Not unless you want to sound like a bloody Pom, and mate, you don’t look like anything that came out of England. Australia is much more laid back, and if you’re looking for a place to lose yourself, then you couldn’t do better.”
Jahn nodded thoughtfully, his smile widening. “I’ll give it some thought, mate.”
“Now you’re getting it,” Dylan smiled, but his face became strained. “Could you give me a top up?”
Nodding, Jahn retrieved the syringe. “You know this speeds things along?”
“The sooner, the better,” Dylan sighed, his hand feeling about until it rested on Jahn’s leg. “My life is yours, in any way you want it, and I hope it’s a long life for you.”
“Me too.” Jahn’s face grew sombre as he placed the syringe in the catheter. “There is something that I have to do tonight, which may dictate that.”
He withdrew the syringe, got up, and went to the computer, bringing the keyboard back to sit on the floor beside Dylan.
“I have a fight tonight, and I may not be back. If you haven’t seen me by morning, and things get too bad, I will give you a code before I leave. Type it in and it will all be over in twenty minutes.
Dylan looked at the keyboard. “You mean I get to decide when I die? That would almost be like cheating death.”
“Just give me until the first light of dawn. I may have a long night, but it would be good to come back to a bed.”
“If I have one last night left in me, it would also be good to see your face in the morning.” His eyes began to close. “Oh god, that feels good.”
Jahn watched the peace return to Dylan’s face. “Get some rest. I’ll be back later.”
There was only a mumbled whisper of thanks as Dylan shut his eyes. Jahn got up and retrieved several more items from the apartment, placing them in a bag. Going into the dark room he piled the photos together, gazing and smiling at the one on top, before adding them to the bag.
Leaving the apartment quietly, he headed to the bathroom and washed his hands, splashing water onto his face. He leant on the sink, staring down at the cracked, stained porcelain, seeing a good representation of his life. The cracks were steadily getting bigger, and this was not the right frame of mind to be in before a fight.
All day he had been aware of Lena’s distress, and admired the way she was hiding it. If she fell apart now, he wasn’t sure how he would cope. The arrival of Natasha had been a blessing. Lena was pleased to see her, and excited by the array of beauty products she had brought with her. Hopefully it would be enough to distract her for a while.
* * * *
“You would think, with all his arrogance, the man would have at least one decent mirror in the place.” Natasha propped the full length mirror up against the wall. “There, now you can have a look at yourself.”
Lena got up from the bed which was strewn with make-up, hair products and jewellery. She approached the mirror nervously and took a deep breath before seeing the final result. She gasped as she stared at the girl looking back at her.
It was like looking at a stranger. She had either lost weight, or the sleek black dress was doing miracles. There was still ample curve, but her waist was more narrow and defined. The wide round neck of her dress revealed just enough cleavage and the delicate black lace sleeves made her arms look graceful.
Her brown eyes sparkled, and the smoky grey of the eye shadow gave them a sultry appeal. Her cheekbones were highlighted and her lips were full, soft and pink.
Natasha moved next to her and gazed in with her, smiling and shaking her head in awe. “I’m really good at what I do.”
“You’re incredible,” Lena declared. “I don’t even look like me.”
Taking a brush, Natasha worked it through gently, shifting tresses of brunette hair to sit elegantly against her breast. “You have lovely hair. Don’t ever cut it.”
Lena continued to stare. “Do you think he’ll
like my dress?”
“He is already fond of the woman in it,” Natasha smiled. “But yes, this is going to knock his socks off. Where is the bastard anyway?”
“He’s been in and out all day.” A grin spread across her face. “I watched him exercise on some ropes earlier. He climbed up this really, long rope using just his arms. It was amazing, and he lifted weights and his muscles got so big, and…”
“Yes, I get it,” Natasha groaned. “He would have got a kick out of showing off.”
Lena bit on her lip and shivered. “The time went so quickly, Natasha. I don’t think I can do this.”
Putting her arm around her, Natasha pulled her closer. “You can, Lena. I know you can. This is your moment, when you’re going to walk into that warehouse, looking more beautiful than any woman there, and showing them all just how strong you are.”
“But I’m not.” Her lip quivered. “I’ve tried to remember every moment we had together, but it makes my throat and chest hurt. I feel like I can’t breathe, every time I think that this is our last time together.”
“I know how much you’re hurting.” Natasha bent down to look into her face. “I’m hurting too. In a few days, I also have to say goodbye to him, after seventeen years.”
“Why does he have to go?”
“Because there’s something in him, Lena. He’s seen so much of how awful this world is, and he’s helped to participate in that. He has a dark heart and desires that torment him.”
“But he does so many wonderful things for people.”
“He believes that he only does these things to hold on to the humanity he has left. He also believes that he is incapable of love, and he’d rather walk away than ever hurt someone he cares for.”
Lena looked at her. “You should go with him. That way he won’t be alone.”
“No.” Natasha shook her head. “I have a life that I love, and Jahn will never be completely alone. He’s too selfish for that, and I have to love him enough to let him go, just as you do. Holding onto him will not bring him the peace he needs to find.”
“So I have to suck it up?” Lena grinned sadly.
“You do. We both do, and who knows, maybe we will see him again one day.” Natasha gave her an encouraging smile. “Tell me, Lena, knowing what you know now, would you have done anything differently? Would you have preferred that he had taken away some other woman that night?”
Lena shook her head. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
They were out in the lounge when he came back in. Lena was delighted to see his astonished face as he stared at her. For an awkward moment no one spoke, until Natasha got up.
“I have to go.”
Lena turned to her, panicked, and Natasha quickly embraced her, whispering in her ear.
“You’re beautiful, confident and brave, remember? You’re the champion’s woman. No tears, no regrets. Be strong for him.”
“Thank you.” Lena swallowed the lump rising in her throat.
Natasha released her and strode to the door, pausing to look at Jahn. “I will see you tomorrow.”
He nodded and smiled as he saw her out. When the door was shut, he looked at Lena again and slowly approached.
“You look beautiful.”
Her voice was shaky. “It pleases you?’
His smile widened. “It pleases me very much. Maybe I should tidy up too, and take you out for dinner.”
Lena shook her head. “No. I don’t want to be with anyone but you, and I certainly don’t have any desire to eat.”
“There are a few hours before we leave. What do you want to do?”
Biting down hard on her lip, she took a deep breath. “Just hold me.”
He gazed at her and then lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the couch. His mouth claimed hers as he sat down with her on his lap, his arms wrapped around her. They kissed deeply for a long time, and said nothing as their lips parted. Lena nuzzled into him, clutching onto him tightly.
The curtains were open, and in the silent time that passed, she watched the changing colour of the sky outside, breathing in his scent, etching on her memory the feel of his body and strength. At times she sought his lips again, fighting to keep strong as he responded with all the passion she had hoped for.
When the room was nearly dark, Lena encouraged him to release her, and sat up. “You need to get ready. You have a fight to win.”
She nearly faltered under his admiring gaze. His hand stroked her hair and he gently pulled her face back to his. He kissed her softly, brushing his lips against her face, bringing his mouth close to her ear.
“I need one last look,” he whispered.
Pulling away, she frowned. “At what?”
Jahn grinned as he pulled her down across his lap. Lena gasped and tried to get up, only to find herself pinned securely with his arm around her waist.
“Don’t you dare,” she yelled.
His hand began to caress her buttocks through her dress. “Are you telling me what to do, little girl?”
She grinned, but tried to remain defiant. “I went to a lot of trouble to try and look nice and now you’re getting me all crumpled up. You let me go right now.”
“Still trying to tell me what to do. I think you need another lesson in obedience.”
His hand left her bottom and returned rapidly with a stinging patter of smacks to her cheeks. Her attempt at feigned resistance was gone as the warmth spread. Her clit was already throbbing and she angled her buttocks higher to give him greater access.
He paused to pull her legs open wider and put his hand between them, under her dress, his finger rubbing her through the crotch of her panties. He pushed it aside and felt the moisture already beginning to seep from her, and the hardened bud between her lips. She groaned and pushed against him.
“Keep that up,” he grinned. “And you’re going to have wet panties to go out in.”
“Then stop molesting me,” she giggled.
“There you go again, not learning your lesson. I see it is going to need to be applied to a bare bottom.”
Removing his hand, he pinched the sides of her dress, slowly drawing it up to her waist. She was raised enough to allow her panties to be easily taken down to her knees. Lena grew more excited as she became exposed and vulnerable, and her thoughts of that morning were remembered.
“Jahn, wait,” she said. “Maybe you aren’t teaching me a hard enough lesson. Maybe I need something more than your hand.”
“My hand is plenty hard enough.”
“It is.” Lena swallowed back nervously. “It just doesn’t leave marks.”
A silence ensued that made Lena anxious that she had spoilt their moment. She felt relieved when he began to caress her buttocks.
“You need to be warmed up first.” His voice was low and stern. “And then I’m going to thrash your bottom with my belt twelve times. No more, no less, and you are going to thank me for each one. Is that understood?”
Lena swallowed again. “Yes, Master.”
There was nothing more said. Jahn began to spank her until her buttocks were burning. He seemed in no hurry to stop, but Lena found herself welcoming the pain, as it became more tangible than the agony inside her, but with it came a desire to cry, the one thing she had avoided all day.
When he stopped, her thoughts shifted quickly to what he was about to do.
“Up you get.” He patted her bottom.
Lena lifted up, kneeling on the couch as he stood up. His hands went to the buckle on his belt and she watched as he undid it and slid the belt from his jeans.
“Face the back of the couch, knees apart and present your bottom for punishment.”
Trembling, she did as he requested. Jahn knelt beside her and turned her head to him.
“Baklava,” he said.
Lena frowned. “What?”
“If you say that word I will stop and not continue.”
A smile drifted across her face. “Then I will never say that word.”
&n
bsp; He kissed her and stood up.
Lena closed her eyes and thrust her bottom out further, inviting his attention. The centre of both cheeks received the first deep bite of leather and the pain was enormous. Lena yelled and drew her body up, screaming to the ceiling.
It was worse than she had imagined and the pain intensified before it dimmed. For a moment she could only breathe, trying to remember why she was doing this. As her thoughts focussed, she slowly returned to her position.
“Thank you, Master.”
No sooner had she spoken when the next lash fell with the same ferocity, just under the first. Again, she was screaming, digging her nails into the couch. She turned back to look at him, and quailed under the stern gaze he was giving her.
“Get back in position,” he said coldly.
She nodded and obeyed. “Thank you, Master.”
The third strike was no kinder. Her tears joined her howls and she took longer to get herself under control.
“Have you got something to say to me, Lena,” he asked impatiently.
For a moment she was tempted to say the word he had given her, but then it would be over. The prospect of that was worse than the pain.
“Thank you, Master,” she sobbed.
Crack. His belt sliced across the base of her cheeks. Her scream rang out long and loud until it settled into bawling.
Her words were broken and took time to be spoken. “Thank you, Master.”
There was a long pause before the next one was delivered. Lena knew he was waiting for her to end this. Four had given her all the pain she would ever need, but the release of her tears had given her something unexpected.
She was justified to cry and to scream at the world at how unfair it was, disguised in her suffering under the belt. Eight more times she would be able to express how angry and hurt she was. As the leather landed again, she welcomed its searing release.
“Thank you, Master,” she wept, knowing how much she meant it.
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