Captivated: Spellbound (Book Two) (4 page)

BOOK: Captivated: Spellbound (Book Two)
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He took the dripping dildo out of my cunt and moved behind me reaching his free hand up to squeeze my tits. I felt the vibrator running against my ass. He left it there, vibrating between my cheeks as he rubbed his hand from breast to breast. While he tweaked my nipple, I felt the soaked vibrating tip of the dildo press against my dark hole. I shuttered. I’d never had anything in there. I wanted to protest, but he thrust the dildo back into my pussy and shockwaves of orgasm shook my body again. And again he brought it back to my ass hole, his other hand squeezed my neck.

“I’ve never,” I gasped.

“You will take it, and you will like it,” he said wickedly in my ear. I relented. I couldn’t resist him.

Slowly, he pressed the dildo into my ass. It vibrated on low, widening my ass with each press. Then I felt him slowly push his wet thumb in my ass as he slid the vibrating dildo against my clit. I wanted to scream out in pain or pleasure. I had never felt filled like that before. The vibrator was working my mound like magic as he pumped her thumb in my ass. I came clenching down on his finger and screaming out in a rage of lust.

He moved away from me and left me while he walked into the house. I was tied there, hanging on the trellis with my hands bound high above my head and my legs wide apart. The skirt was hiked up around my waist, and my shirt was completely open. I was exhilarated from the intensity of it, even the humiliation of it. It made me feel fully alive. I wanted to get down on my knees and worship him. I wanted him to open me up like I’d never been opened before. I wanted to serve him; I wanted to love him; I wanted him to worship me.

A few moments later, he came and untied me. I righted my clothing and walked silently into the cool darkness of the cottage. He sat down at the kitchen table, and I silently prepared a simple meal which he shared with me. Part of me was afraid from thoughts of the box. But the other part of me just wanted him.

“Where have you been?” I asked as I sat down at the table.

“I’ve had a lot of business to take care of lately. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I intended to spend more time here, with you. This is not ideal. I know that. You must be getting lonely and probably more than a little irritated with me.”

“Maybe,” I said looking down at my food.

“Have you spoken with your mother lately?”

“I did a few days ago. She thinks I’m crazy for staying, but what else is new, right?”

“Do you think you are crazy for staying,”

I shrugged, “Maybe.”

He laughed. “Why don’t I run a nice bath for you while you clean up the dishes, OK? I’ll haul and heat your water.”

I was tired and sore. My ass was sore, and my muscles were sore. I didn’t even want to clean up the dishes. But I knew if I didn’t I’d have a swarm of flies in the morning. He was as good as his word. In a half an hour there was a nice warm bath waiting for me. I washed and relaxed.

After I was done, I found him gone, again.

 

 

Chapter Seven

I climbed into bed, alone, and felt like crying. Why didn’t he stay with me? I really was feeling lonely. I wanted to feel him close to me. He hadn’t even said good-bye. I tucked my head under the covers and cried myself into a restless sleep.

Deep in the night, I woke to the feeling of a hand inside my thighs. I opened my eyes and saw Alexi standing over me. The room was lit with dozens of candles. I rose to my knees and threw my arms around his waist and tugged him down to kiss me.

“Where did you go?” I asked. The tears poured from my eyes again.

“Oh, my Darling, I am so sorry. I had to make a phone call. I promise I will spend more time with you. I swear it.”

“Alexi, I don’t think I can do this.”

“What is it? That there is no running water, the clothes, that I’m not here with you?”

“It’s all of it. I just don’t think I can do this. I think,” I hesitated, “I think I’m in love with you. But I can’t do this. Not if you are not here. And I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what, my Darling?”

I wanted to say something about the box. It scared me, and it had made me trust the situation even less. It had gone from being a harmless role play to something perhaps more sinister.

“I’m afraid you don’t love me,” I said.

“Oh, Julia. I have so many wonderful plans for you. You are my queen. You know that don’t you?”

“How am I supposed to know that? When you make me live in a shack and work like a dog?”

“It makes you strong. Like a queen should be. Not a weak Capitalist brat. You are better than that.”

I sunk into his arms. Maybe it was making me stronger. It was making me physically stronger, and maybe it was making me mentally stronger as well. Nothing was coming easy living here. Maybe I should be thanking him.

He took me in his arms and smothered me with kisses.

“I want to be inside of you my Darling, my Queen,” he said as he ran his hands over my body. I was wearing a short nighty, and his hands moved up under it into the crease between my legs. It was hot and swollen from earlier, and he could feel it. Instead of backing away, it seemed to excite him even more. He was relentless. He stood and told me to lean over the head of the bed. The soft white rope was in his hands and he bound me to the metal frame that I gripped with my blistered hands. My breasts hung over the rod. I was on my knees with my back arched and my ass in the air. He opened the neck of the nighty to reveal my breasts. My ass and pussy were completely exposed.

“Will you let me have you as I want?” he asked. 

He took my face in his hands and stared at me, deep into my soul. All my reservations melted, and I drifted into a dreamlike state, fully aroused.“Yes…” I stammered. Then he placed a blindfold over my eyes. 

I could hear him walk away and the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and a whispered chant in Russian it sounded like poetry. My mind became like unformed clay and he was my sculptor. I wanted him to mold my body into his pleasure object and erect a monument to our lust. My heart pounded, waiting, expecting, aroused with fear.

Leaning over the bed frame with my sore hands tied to the metal rod, I felt his cock press against my mouth; his hand gripped back of my hair. My ass lifted, and I opened my mouth. It tasted salty, and I could smell the spice of his body. It was a potion to my senses. It took me to the most basic and most heightened level of consciousness. I let it slip deep down my throat. The fear I felt heightened my desire. I let him thrust deep into my mouth, letting out panting, muffled moans.

He withdrew with a pop and a gag was placed over my mouth. I felt the bed move and creak behind me. Then the smack of a leather cat o' nine tails on my ass and exposed pussy. He whipped my body gently, flogging between my legs, my thighs, my exposed breasts. Each time it stung, I grunted through the gag.

My body was his piano his canvas his lump of clay, he molded me with each strike of the whip. I was softened and was made pliable, ready, and ripe. He gave me a sharp whack to the ass with his bare hand, and again, and again, until my ass was sore and red.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he rubbed my pussy with lube and slid his budging cock deep inside me in one thrust. I was so surprised my body jerked forward involuntarily, causing my bound hands to twist and burn. He thumbed me hard and my body responded madly, violently climaxing as I moaned under my gag.

My existence was reduced to that moment, that stinging arousal, his body inside of mine. All I was, was climax. I was the Queen of the Night. I was his lover, his creation, his to command and compel into the depths of utter, mindless lust. His body pounded me mercilessly, and I continued to roll in endless climax.

In the blackness of my mind, I felt his dripping cock push at my back door.

I let out a sharp moan. My eyes were wide open under the blindfold. His cock was huge!

“I’m going to fuck your ass,” he said matter-of-factly.

I moaned again, but his cock slid inside me. His fingers flicked my clit as he slowly inched the full length of is dripping dick into my dark hole. I gasped. I could barely breath. He revealed an unknown land inside of me, a land of explosive carnality that quickened my pulse and expanded my mind. He pulled me back against his cock and rocked me. Letting me get used to the feeling of him inside me.

My ass hole dripped with lube and pussy juices, as he slowly started to pump it. He let it built ever so slowly, and as I relaxed more, he pumped me harder and faster. Soon he was fucking my ass with the same violence as he fucked my pussy.

It felt so forbidden and new. I moaned loudly under the gag. Spit soaked the cloth, and I pressed my eyes closed as I tried to breathe. I felt the vibrator on my clit as he fucked my asshole. His cock was growing fuller and wider, and it pressed against my pussy from behind. He moaned as he shot his load into me, which made me convulse forward in an intense painful orgasm. My mind shot into darkness. My soul rested on the embers of a scorching flame. My Alexi, the Lord of the Night, the King of my soul.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

When I woke up in the morning, I staggered into the kitchen to the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast cooking. Alexi stood at the kitchen counter making pancakes, eggs, and bacon. My mouth watered, and I drug my sore body over to where he stood and flung my arms around his back. I wanted to weep in gratitude for what he had shown me of myself. Depths of desire I had never imagined possible were revealed to me in his rustic metal framed bed. He patted my hand as he continued to cook, a tear ran down my face. I was frantically in love with him.

“I ran a bath for you,” he said, bending to kiss me.

“Thank you,” I said, not wanting to pull away. But the thought of a bath drew me, and I trudged to the bathroom and sunk in the warm, inviting water. The bathroom was lit with candles and smelled of soft floral perfume. I slowly washed myself and soaked until I heard Alexi call from the kitchen that breakfast was ready. I found a silky white bathrobe handing over a counter. It was new. I threw it over my shoulders and walked bare foot into the kitchen where I sat down and accepted the breakfast.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” I said.

“I can do many things, Lyubimaya. Don’t forget, I grew up in this cottage. It was not until five years ago that I moved out.”

“Is that why you want me to live here? Are you trying to relive your past?”

He tore a piece of bread and laughed heartily.

“No, no… I simply wanted you to see me more clearly.”

The metal box flitted across my mind. I looked down at my plate and forked eggs into my mouth. They were really good. My stomach grumbled. I was hungry. Having someone else cook my food and draw my bath was making me feel positively spoiled.

“I want to see every part of you. I want to be with you."

“I am sorry I have been gone so much. Believe me. I wanted to see you working in that dress,” he winked and laughed.

“What’s with the dress anyway?” I said, regaining some incredulity.

“I wanted you to see me. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.”

“Well, it is kind of freaky, and weird, and not particularly practical."

He chuckled. “You have done so much work in just a few days. You are a strong woman. You plowed that entire field with nothing but a scythe and a shovel. I am impressed. You have my heart.” He put his hand to his chest and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “So, did you find anything in the field when you turned it over?”

I sat up straight, my eyes wide, but I caught myself and tried to cover my surprise. “Like what?” I asked.

“Old coins, silverware, that sort of thing,” he said waving his hand again.

“No, nothing, some animal bones, but that was about it, other than a bunch of rocks and decomposed sticks,” I lied. I held my voice from wavering. Why was he asking me this?

“Huh? Really, one often finds interesting artifacts when excavating the earth.”

“Well, I didn’t,” I said standing. I went to the bedroom to put on a normal pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

I could hear him putting the dishes in the sink in the kitchen, the sound of water pouring and splashing on silverware. My cell phone sat on the dresser, blinking that I had a voice mail. It was my mother. I sent her a quick text message that everything was fine. I was going through a lot of trouble to avoid my parents.

I was falling for Alexi. I wanted to be within his grasp. I wanted to feel his body close to mine, to hear his heart beat, to smell his scent. The way he worked my body had opened doors to my soul I never knew existed. Even though I never would have asked or expected to experience these things, just the thought of it excited me. I wanted more.

He was like a sex god for my starving body and mind. I wanted to dine at the banquet of his lust for eternity. I could never leave him, not if I tried. But that part of my was willing to die for these new flavors, and could be trusted about as much as Alexi himself could be trusted.

Nothing he said really rung 100% true. I could sense there was something else he wasn’t telling me, some dark secret that I was suddenly part of. Maybe he had some vendetta against Americans. He kept calling me a Capitalist. Was the Cold War really even over? I was too young to know much about it other than what I’d read in history books, and I thought he was too. But maybe it was different for him, considering the way he grew up.

When I walked back to the kitchen, Alexi’s hands were deep in soapy suds. On the clean table sat a stack of art supplies. My heart leapt. There was a huge pad of the finest quality watercolor paper, a whole box of a hundred shades of paint, twenty natural fiber brushes, and all the accessories I would need for a professional studio.

When I looked in the corner, I noticed a drafting table folded against the wall. He must have brought them in while I was in the bath. My mind raced with all the things I could do with these art supplies, all the beautiful sights in this ancient country I could paint.

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