LOGINShe was supposed to be collateral. Anastasia Volkov, daughter of a bankrupt oligarch, is handed to the city’s most feared pakhan to settle a debt she never agreed to pay. Nikolai Morozov does not take prisoners; he takes everything. One look at the trembling girl in his private box at the opera, and he decides her fear tastes like sin. But Anastasia is not the fragile offering she appears. Beneath silk and submission burns a woman who learns to weaponize desire, who carves her name into his skin with the same blade he presses to her throat. In a world of blood oaths and midnight executions, love is the deadliest betrayal. When the past comes to collect its dues, Anastasia must choose: kneel forever… or cut the king down and wear his crown.
View MoreNikolai’s POVI wake before the light. I check the feeds first. Anya sleeps curled on the Red Room floor with my cum dried on her face, her nipples red from clamps and her pussy swollen from denial. She is beautiful in her misery.My cock stirs.I dress all black. I walk to the Red Room and unlock it quietly. She stirs when the door opens and kneels fast when she sees me, knees on the cold floor with her head down. Perfect, that means she is learning.I clip a short chain to her collar. “Come.” I pull the chain, she crawls a step, then stands. She is naked, not that I care. I lead her through the halls. The guards look away, they know the rules.After going through so many steps and corners, we finally got to my bathroom. It is marble and already filled with steam. I strip and pull her under the hot water. I wash her myself; soap her skin slowly, clean my dried cum from her cheeks, her lips and her chin. My fingers slide between her legs, she is still swollen and wet. I push two of
Anya’s POVNikolai walks back to me. The red light catches metal in his hand and the silver glints. My heart stops. He holds two small clamps connected by a thin chain. Nipple clamps, I know what the thing is. I move my head sideways. “No. Please.”He does not answer. He stands in front of me. His fingers pinch my left nipple hard. It hardens fast and pain shoots all over me. He opens the clamp and closes it around the nipple. It was a sharp bite and fire. I scream. “Fuck! It hurts!” My body jerks. The chain from the ceiling pulls my arms. My tears run hot.He does the right nipple; same pinch, same clamp, same bite. The pain is worse. Both nipples throb. The chain between them swings, every small move tugs. More pain. I sob. “Take them off. Please.”He tugs the chain light. Pleasure shoots directly to my pussy, my clit pulses and I dislike it. My pussy is wet, dripping but empty.He takes the vibrator again, black and thick. He turns it on high and presses it hard on my clit. The buz
Anya’s POVNikolai’s hand on my lower back feels like a brand itself. It is hard and possessive. He leads me past the familiar corridors, further into the house, to a heavy black door I have never seen open. He takes a key from his pocket and opens the door gently. The snap is loud in the stillness.“Welcome to the Red Room,” he says. His voice is low and dark. The name sends ice through my veins.The Red room sounds so cliche but I hope it is not what I actually think it is because that room name is popularly common in one thing.The door swings in and immediately dim red lights glow from the ceiling, the black walls drink the light. They are chains hanging from the ceiling. Then I saw many other things. Whips, paddles, strange metal toys line shelves. A large wooden X-frame stands in one corner. In the center, a suspension rig with rings and cuffs. They are mirrors on every wall so I see myself from all sides. The room is exactly what I think it is. I would be bare soon and weak. T
Anya’s POVThe maid knocks once and enters my room without waiting. I realized she was carrying a dress over her arm, it is a deep red silk. Long, but the back is almost nothing, it has thin straps and she was also holding a high heels of the same color. A small box with diamond earrings and a necklace was also in her hands. I do not realize how she could carry all that without any help. She lays everything on the bed. “Pakhan says wear this for dinner,” she says. Voice quiet. She leaves as fast as she came.I stare at the dress. My hands shake a little. Sonya sits on the chair by the window. She looks so pale. “I got one too,” she whispers. “Black. Simple.” We do not talk anymore, we just got ready. I put on the red silk. It fits tight and shows too much skin. The collar stays around my neck, a silver cold. Sonya helps with my hair, she makes it into loose waves, adds a little makeup on my face, and gives me red lips. We look pretty, like dolls.Two guards wait outside when we fin
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