Kept Women: Two Fertile Submissive Stories (8 page)

Muscles, joints, flesh, and nerves crackled
and snapped. His come poured on, arcing like fire, neat pulses
timed to the sandpaper growls that spat from his mouth.

I couldn't scream anymore. The orgasm stole
everything, leaving me too wet, entranced, and beaten to do
anything but seize up and take it.

The rhythmic spasms clawed
at our bodies, making us twitch and writhe as one. We came
together, sharing a primal faith, a belief that this would
be
it.

This fuck wasn't just for dominance,
submission, or hedonistic pleasure. This was about making a baby,
signing our love in flesh and blood, his perfect masculine power
filling my submissive fissures to sweet completion.

My heels relaxed. Nikolai groaned, peppering
my womb with the last of his milky droplets.

Our sexes slowed their convulsing, melding
into softer and mellower pulses. Orgasm's fires purred to a gentle
simmer, leaving relief in their stormy wake.

Nikolai slipped out of me and pulled me
close. When he saw his seed leaking out, he reached to my hip,
softly pushing my legs together.

“
Don't move too much,
kitten. You're going to be bred soon, and we're going to have a
happy, bright future. I promise.”

I teared up a little at his words. For all I
knew, a gang of ruthless killers might be storming through the
estate that very second, ready to break in and shoot us both in the
head.

But his words convinced me our future was
coming, exactly as he described. A beautiful future destined to
happen.

“
I love you!” I threw my
arms around his neck, kissing him deep, gushing the words I'd been
afraid to say all at once.

Nikolai smiled beneath my small, quivering
lips. He kissed me softly before breaking away to stroke my
cheek.

“
And you're my love,
little kitten. My everything. This love is whole and obedient, just
like you.” He breathed deep.

I murmured softly, gliding my hands down his
immaculate back. When they reached his flanks, I found the deep
impressions left by my heels. I fingered the grooves softly.

He arched his back and hissed. “You see how
good it feels to suffer for our pleasure? Now, imagine our love,
after this is all over.”

His eyes beamed pure warmth, a halo of love.
I leaned in to kiss him again, but a loud chirp went off just
beyond the thick curtain.

Nikolai swore in Russian and sat up, pushing
himself through the slit in the canopy. He glided backward and sat
next to me, phone in hand.

“
Da? Da?
Then push on into the forests. She's past her
prime! How far could she have gotten? The woman giving you the run
around is old enough to be your mothers!”

He was mad. My confidence in the elite guard
melted a little, and new fear burbled up inside me.

“
Nikolai?” I whispered, as
soon as he was off the phone.

“
Like you Americans say:
if you want the job done right, you'd better do it yourself.” He
went through the curtain again, pushed it open, and began to
dress.

“
Why does she hate me? I
don't understand.” Despite the unease, it felt good to get that
question off my chest.

He turned to me, sadness building in his
eyes. “Natasha Fedorova and I have a very complicated history. It
goes back to before I was born.”

My eyebrows went up. He nodded.

“
It was shortly after the
war...her grandfather was being put away, one of those rich
peasants Stalin hadn't managed to purge and collectivize in the
Thirties. Some petty bureaucrat wanted the man's land for himself,
and concocted some trumped up charge. My father was a young star in
the local party machine and a war hero. He pardoned Natasha's
grandfather from the unspeakable in Siberia.”

“
That's horrible,” I said.
“If her family was so grateful, then why is she trying to kill
us?”

“
Just you, kitten. Not me.
She's always been an old woman of tradition, a true believer in
old, inflexible ways. And that makes her dangerous. She swore an
oath to protect and serve my family long ago when my father hired
her. She was also too close to my Masha...”

“
Too close?”

“
Da.
Natasha took to my poor wife very closely, and was devastated
when she died. She vowed to uphold the family's honor and purity at
Masha's funeral. She thinks I'm destroying it anytime I show
interest in a new woman, or feed hungers that won't die. And you –
you're her worst nightmare. American, young, and so innocent...most
of all, fertile. The thought of serving a new family drives
Natasha's addled brain mad.”

He walked over and pressed his hand to my
cheek. I moved into his thick warm palm, savoring the heat. It was
enough to make me forgive him for calling out my innocence – or was
it ignorance?

Nikolai had to finish getting dressed.

I watched his powerful muscles disappear
into his neat clothes. When he was ready to go, he turned to me,
leaning across the mattress for one last kiss.

“
You rest now, kitten.
I'll bring her back here myself, if I have to, and see that she
rots in the worst prison Mr. Putin has to offer. I'll send for
another guard, just for this room. No one will enter.”

I thanked him and we kissed one last time.
Then the bedroom door closed gently and Nikolai was gone.

I flattened myself on the bed, making sure
to squeeze my thighs together. His warmth lingered inside me, even
as his flesh and scent faded from my skin.

The bedding's soft siren call reminded me
how exhausted this drama had made me. Before I knew it, I was out,
dreaming of my master, my lover, the second half of my soul.

“
Wake up,
shlyukha!
Up, you whore,
you mangy cur!”

Waking up was never easy. But I'd never had
it as hard when Natasha grabbed at my hair, nearly tearing it from
its roots as she jerked me up and screamed in my face.

“
Don't scream. Not unless
you want a bullet straight to the womb.” Her thin lips parted in a
nasty smile, just as she pushed a pistol's cold barrel into my
naked stomach.

Shit. It isn't just an idle threat.

Screw her, of course I wanted to scream! But
I didn't dare. She was certainly crazy enough to pull the
trigger...

“
Can't I at least get
dressed?”

“
No!” She snapped, probing
the gun into my flesh a little deeper like a short, stumpy spear.
“You act like a whore. You might as well look like it too in those
stupid shoes.”

I looked down, quietly hating myself for
forgetting to drop my heels after I'd worn them for Nikolai's
pleasure.

She sniffed in contempt, staring down at my
feet. “Here, I'll keep you from the cold, the only thing you
deserve...”

Her back was turned, but only for a second.
She collected my long coat from the closet and pulled it around me,
never drawing away the weapon in her hand.

My captor pressed it into my back again. At
least it wasn't as cold with something between the steel and my
flesh.

“
If you breathe or mumble
a word, I will not hesitate. I
will
fire this gun right through your whore body. Now,
move!”

I hugged the coat tight around my naked body
and walked on. Having a gun up against your spine made walking in
heels ten times more difficult.

When I saw the dead guard just past the
statues, a neat reddish hole in his head, I whimpered.

Natasha twitched the gun barrel into my back
again. Unforgiving. Unrelenting.

“
Keep moving,” she
snarled. “You are scheduled for pick up in five
minutes.”

We moved deeper down the hall, before
stopping in front of a narrow wooden door. She fished in her
pocket, pulled out a huge keychain, and unlocked it.

An auxiliary staircase appeared, thin steps
cut from ugly bare metal. She shut the door and gestured me to go
down. Our footsteps echoed through the dingy chamber, like rocks
falling in a missile silo.

The old woman squeezed past me when we
reached the bottom. Another door clicked open. I blinked at the
sudden infusion of bright lights.

I realized we were somewhere behind the
kitchen, rapidly heading for the Fire Exit. Outside, a vehicle
revved its engine impatiently.

Natasha had one withered hand on the door's
metal handle when there was an explosion just past the thick metal
door. She threw herself on the ground, and I quickly followed.

Men were yelling and shooting at one
another. Stray bullets clattered on metal, concrete, and anything
else in their way.

I knew someone's gunfire found its mark when
I heard a man gurgling in sudden pain. It went on for more than a
whole minute. I cradled my head, balling myself up on the cold
floor and begging for it to end.

Silence.

“
Natasha Fedorova!
Traitor, coward...on your feet!” The booming voice barked behind
me, an angry, righteous tone that could only belong to
Nikolai.

Before I could sit up, the old woman was at
my side, yanking me up into her arms. For being such an older,
short, and skinny thing, she had some real power in those
bones.

This time, she pushed the gun's nose through
the fissure in the coat. I'd forgotten to snap the lowest buttons
closed on the long coat. Cold deadly metal melded like ice to my
bare skin.

“
Let her go,” Nikolai
commanded. He didn't blink as he stepped forward.

I saw the big man in camo he called Slava
near the door, a large assault rifle drawn. It didn't take a
military expert to know he was trying to get a clean shot on
Natasha. Too bad I was in the way.

“
It's not too late to get
out of this,” he said coldly, coming to a stop next to us as she
angrily jabbed the gun deeper into my side. I groaned. “Let her go.
I'll let you off lightly if you give me all the information about
the men you've brought here to attack our family. My brother can
spare you a lifetime in some dungeon.”

“
Ha! You will do no such
thing, Mr. Voroshlov. You killed this girl. Not me.
You
brought shame on
this house, this family, and all so you could lay with this
sniveling American whore.”

Nikolai's nostrils flared. The brightness in
his eyes glowed like twin lightning strikes. I looked to his side,
and saw him fingering a handgun in his coat pocket.

“
The only shame I see is
coming from you. You've broken your oath, Natasha. You swore you'd
serve and obey this household faithfully.” He took another step
forward.

Natasha's hand shook, one swipe away from
drawing on him instead. But the old woman knew if she moved, she'd
lose precious seconds, and open herself up to Slava nailing her in
the head.

“
Have you forgotten? What
you vowed to my father when he saved your grandfather from that God
forsaken prison camp? How would he feel seeing what you've done to
us today?”

The old housekeeper's hot breath hissed
against my cheek. “I...I am saving you! Just as the elder
Voroshlovs would've wanted. Just as Masha would've wanted! You, Mr.
Voroshlov, bring shame and sin here! I tolerated those whores
because my heart wept for you after losing her. They meant nothing
to you. But this American girl is clueless. Weak. Disgusting.”

“
She's also the first
woman I've loved since I lost my wife. Forget the past, Natasha
Fedorova. Let it slip away, and you'll see how wrong you
are.”

“
Nyet!
” I flinched at her earsplitting scream, jerking my face away
from her brittle lips.

My ear was far too close to her mouth. Her
roar echoed.

“
The past is all we have.
Our traditions, our honor...if you were half the man your father
was, Nikolai, you'd know that.”

Natasha's eyes grew wide. Her hand shook as
she pushed the gun hard into my soft stomach, just below the ribs.
I screamed, knowing she was about to fire.

An earth shattering blast ripped past my
head. Something heavy dropped on the ground, and I fell with
it.

Free of her grasp, I clambered backward
toward the nearest wall, checking my abdomen to make sure I hadn't
been shot. Then I snapped my head toward Nikolai.

His heavy chest was rising and falling. His
knuckles were white around his handgun, still gripped tight in
front of his face.

A terrible feminine groan curdled the air. I
looked at Natasha's crumpled heap just a couple feet away, her pale
skin growing white like a powdered phantom.

Nikolai dropped the gun on the floor, not
far from where hers had fallen. He was on her in a flash, but he
wasn't strangling her like I'd expected.

“
Why, Natasha Fedorova?
Why did you make me do this?” Nikolai's powerful face twisted and
he began to cry. “You stupid, stubborn fool...”

He broke into Russian, a series of sad,
rugged phrases. They had the same ghastly cadence as the words he'd
just said in English.

My heart broke a little with his as he held
his dying servant. I stood, navigating my feet carefully around the
blood running far from Natasha's chest wound.

I stopped next to him, clasping Nikolai's
shoulder tight. Beaming love and comfort, I looked into his eyes.
Natasha's face went limp and she wasn't moving, not even to
breathe.

“
Killing her is like
murdering an Aunt who's become a mad dog. But I did it for you,
kitten.” He looked up, enveloping my thin fingers in
his.