“Good job,” Chernov snorts when I stand up on shaky legs. “Come here, slut.”
Pointedly avoiding the man on the floor, I saunter over to my new Master, who has settled into a comfortable armchair. Just as I expected, he loosens his belt and pulls his cock out. Pleased to be back in familiar territory, I drop to my knees in front of him and reach for his cock. It’s hard already, as if watching me pee on that man aroused him. What a disgusting jerk.
He laughs but doesn’t stop me from stroking him. “So eager. Can’t wait to suck my cock?”
Ugh, not really, but still way better than the alternative. “Yes, Master,” I reply with what I hope is a convincing smile. “I’m excited to serve you.”
“Hmm. Serve me then.” Gesturing imperiously, he leans back and lets me get to work. I take it slow, intent on making it last as long as possible because I’m afraid of what comes next. It’s not that much of a hardship, really. Chernov’s neatly trimmed and smells like he took a shower earlier. Mikhail had warned me that there’s always a risk of running into an unwashed, disgusting primitive, so I really have nothing to complain about.
“Mmm. Fuck,” Chernov groans. “You certainly know your shit. No crying, either. Kidnapped cunts always cry. It gets annoying.”
I just smile at him and kiss his tip, then take his shaft into my mouth again. It’s not like he expects me to answer.
Turning his attention back to his men, Chernov orders, “Get to work on Luka again. He’s had a break and even a drink, and he’snot on a fucking vacation. He still hasn’t told us who he talked to.”
In the corner of my eye, I catch a metallic glint as one of Chernov’s men draws a knife. “Yes, boss. Do you want us to take him somewhere else so you could enjoy your new toy?”
“Nah. I might as well have a show to go with the blowjob.”
The laughter is quickly replaced by cries and whimpers from the man on the floor. He’s definitely not unconscious now. I can’t see what they’re doing to him, and I’m grateful for it. I wish I could cover my ears so I wouldn’t have to listen, but I doubt that would go over well with my new Master, so I just hum to myself as I focus on the cock in my mouth. It’s not a bad cock. Not as big as Mikhail’s, but since I’m likely to get fucked by it later, a smaller size is probably for the best. It’s veiny, with an extremely sensitive underside.
I quickly discover that Chernov likes his balls played with, so I alternate between his shaft and his sac, using my hands and mouth to the best of my ability, hoping to make him recognize my value. I don’t want to end up like poor Luka, who sounds like he’s being cut into pieces just a few steps away from me.
Nope. I’m not thinking about that. I’m thinking about the dog. What kind should we get? Mikhail would probably hate those purse dogs. Maybe—
Chernov tugs on my hair, making his cock slip out of my mouth with a wet pop. “Enough,” he says. To me, not his henchmen, who continue torturing their traitor, even though he told them everything already. My heart pounds as Chernov stands up, his hand still tightly gripping my hair. Oh my god. Is he going to have his men torture me now? That’s not fair. I’ve done a good job. I didn’t make him come, but he seemed to be enjoying my slower pace. He would have come eventually, and he would have loved it. My self-confidence might be practically non-existent,but after Mikhail’s extensive training, I’m quite confident in my blowjob skills. What did I do wrong?
Of course, I didn’t have to do anything wrong. I remember the part of orientation where it was said that a Master can hurt a Doll in whichever way they see fit and they don’t need a reason for it. They can even kill us if they choose. Is that what Chernov is about to do? Exercise his right to end my life as my owner? It feels kind of wasteful. Mikhail trained me for so long, and this guy would just kill me without taking advantage of that?
Only years of practice at masking my emotions help me maintain a neutral expression. I even manage a smile, though it’s probably a little strained. Who can blame me though?
It’s a relief when Chernov merely bends me over the arm of the chair and thrusts his cock into my pussy. I gasp at the sudden stretch, which he takes as a sign of me enjoying it.
“You like that, slut? I bet you do. You’re all wet for me.” I’m really not, but if he wants to think that, I certainly won’t be correcting him. Fortunately, his cock is wet from my blowjob, so it doesn’t hurt as Chernov pumps it in and out of my pussy. “Fuck, such a tight cunt. You like me fucking you, slut?”
“Yes, Master,” I moan obediently. “It feels so good.” It’s not terrible but nothing to write home about, either. Heh. Write home about. What a funny saying. I stifle a giggle as I imagine actually writing home about my experiences.
“Dear Mother. Mikhail’s cock was excellent, and I loved it when he fucked my mouth. This guy isn’t as great, but hey, at least his evil minions aren’t cutting me to pieces. Best regards, Grace.”
If Mother read that, she’d have kittens, then spank me black and blue and lock me in my room for a year. The threat of spanking really lost its edge after I met Mikhail, because as skilled with the cane as Mother is, she can’t hold a candle to my Master.
I moan as Chernov fucks me, occasionally exclaiming how good he is when he demands feedback, but mostly, I’m lost in my imagination. When the cock slips from my pussy and slams straight into my asshole, with no lube and no preparation, I even manage to cry out an aroused “Yes, Master! Right there!” instead of a few choice swear words or a cry of pain. I’m doubly grateful for Mikhail’s vigorous anal training and the long hours I spent with that stupid machine pounding my ass because if it weren’t for that, I would surely be bleeding and crying in agony right now. The lack of lube still makes the intrusion burn, and I can’t imagine how dry fucking someone’s asshole can be pleasurable for Chernov. I mean, doesn’t it hurt him as well?
“Fuck yeah, so tight,” he groans. “You’re quite a skilled slut.” His hand tightens in my hair, pinpricks of pain stabbing into my scalp from where he pulls too hard. “I’m definitely keeping you.”
Thank god. I think? Where the hell is Mikhail?
Chapter 33
Mikhail
Knowing Grace is currently being groped and fucked by some asshole ally of the Morozovs has me on edge. The smile I give Anton is sharper than usual, but the stupid fuck doesn’t seem to notice as he offers me another beer. We’re sitting in the mansion’s common room, a place where enforcers and other employees currently not on duty hang out.
The Morozovs spare no expenses on their people, so there’s food, drinks, TVs, video games, and plenty of other things to keep everyone occupied, because nothing is worse than bored, disgruntled men. Fostering loyalty is cheaper than sniffing out traitors and hiring new people, and the bosses realize that. I used to like that about them, but they fucked me over by expanding the Doll operation, which I built from nothing,without even telling me. Then they took Grace away from me. Either of those things warrants death, but handing my Doll to some random asshole is what made me act.
“It’s good to see you out of that basement,synok. You could use some sunlight,” Anton says, sipping his beer. “I’m glad you’re not moping over that Doll. You always get too attached to them.”
You have no fucking idea, Uncle, I think to myself but keep up a smile. In the kitchen attached to the common room, the expensive coffee machine whirs to life, spitting out the first cups of coffee for people returning from their daily duties or waiting for evening shifts to start. It’s mostly guards and enforcers here, but some of the non-combat staff visit as well. A maid laughs at something the enforcers say. Her cup of coffee is almost empty, but she is still yawning. She’s pretty. Too bad she has to die.
