Take Me (Enslaved #1)

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

Four months later

My breath is coming in ragged drags as I step into the presidential suite at the Four Seasons Hotel in Paris. Wiping the towel around my neck at my sweaty forehead, I halt in my tracks as I enter the living area and hear Nikolai’s voice.

“I want you to go out and buy yourself the perfect dress for tonight.”

Looking up, I find him leaning back in the upholstered chair behind the desk across the room. The vision of his effortless authority always takes me aback, speeding up my already racing heart even as it pulls me into a state of calm submission. But what has the biggest effect on me today are his words.

“But I’ve nev–” I stop myself. He already knows I’ve never gone out without him despite being allowed to do so for a month now.

“Usual procedure for going out alone,” he adds, reminding me of the exact reason I’ve never gone out.

“I have plenty of pretty dresses in the wardrobe,” I try.

“This is not about the dress, and you know it. I’ve given you a month to build up to this, and I’m done waiting.”

Breathing a shuddery sigh, I nod and lower my gaze. “Yes, Master.”

“Daniil will look after you.” Nikolai gestures at the man who is standing quietly to the side with his hands folded before him. “He’ll even help you with the transactions if you need it and speak on your behalf.”

I cast a glance back at the brawny guard, who has quietly followed me to the downstairs gym, waited discreetly at the side while I did my third round of yoga this week, then followed me back up. He’s always there, yet I’ve never spoken a word to him, and that’s probably why I’ve never gone out—because of the thing I have to ask him to do in order to do so. Or maybe because of the humiliation that will follow.

“It’s time you get used to it. I don’t want you stuck inside the hotel all day when I’m away.”

“Okay. I understand, Master,” I say politely even as my blood swooshes with nervous energy.

“Good girl. Now come here and get your reward.” He gets up and holds his hand out to me.

Gingerly, I pad across the room to stand in front of him.

Grabbing my waist, he lifts me to sit on the desk and leans down to kiss me. “Did you like the yoga instructor?” he asks as he breaks the kiss.

“She was great,” I say, my lips tipping up in a shy smile as he curves his hand around my cheek and strokes his thumb along my skin.

“Good. We’ll be staying here for another two weeks, and I’d like to keep you limber.” As if to test the fruits of the many hours of private yoga lessons he’s paid for, he sets my feet up on the wooden surface and slowly pushes my knees apart.

Folding my hands around his neck, I hold on as he spreads me wide open, and I vaguely notice a door closing behind us as Daniil takes the cue and leaves the room.

Slowly, he drags his fingers up my inner thigh to caress my pussy, eliciting a flurry of sparks and shudders under the thin fabric of my yoga shorts. Then he moves up, over my stomach and chest, wrapping his hand around my throat, squeezing as he slowly pushes me down to lie on the desk.

“Open your mouth, little slut,” he orders, leaning down to hover his lips right above mine.

A staggered breath stutters in my constricted throat as I part my lips and lean my head back to grant him access. Heat and humiliation twine and twirl inside me as he spits in my mouth.

“Don’t swallow,” he demands, drawing his head back a little to watch the spit glide down my tongue. “Tonight, you’re gonna wear the ring gag, and every man at the table is going to spit into your mouth before we start eating. Then, you’ll sit there, patiently waiting with their spit stuck on your tongue, until we’re done.”

My heart speeds up to a frantic rhythm that makes my chest shake as I stare up at the dark promise in his bright blue eyes.

He spits again, and I pant hard at the dirty feeling of his saliva trickling down my tongue. “What does a little slut say when she gets to taste her master’s spit?”

“Thank you,” I say in a slurred voice, still not swallowing since I haven’t gotten permission.

“Good little Lisichka .” Releasing my neck, he presses a finger under my chin and closes my mouth. “Swallow. And go get ready to hit town. I want you in the prettiest evening gown you can find tonight.”

I swallow his spit and nod.

“And don’t touch my cunt without permission.” He rubs his hand against my pussy, drawing a moan from my throat.

“Of course, Master,” I say in a breathy voice, confirming what has become second nature: obeying his command.

***

After a much-needed shower and lots of contemplation, I get dressed and go into the living room with my heart pounding in my chest. Nikolai is gone, as expected, but he’s not the man I’m looking for. The man I need is standing close to a wall, eyes trained straight ahead, hands folded in front of him.

“I’d like to go out,” I tell the towering man with arms the size of trunks hidden behind an expensive suit.

Not batting an eye, like this is yet another standard task of his job, Daniil picks up two items from the side table. “Which one would you like?”

I shift my eyes back and forth between the small tongue plate, which will render speech impossible, and the leather panties with two attachments. When I left the bathroom, I thought I had made my decision—there’s no way I’m going dress shopping on my own without being able to speak. But as I glance up at the impassive man who is to insert the two dildos, I waver. I don’t know why the idea makes me so uneasy. I’ve had plenty of men doing humiliating things to me, but I guess being back in the real world has restored some of my modesty.

“I don’t know,” I say, feeling lost.

He doesn’t reply, just stands there, holding up the degrading items. I think five minutes pass as I stare back and forth between him, the tongue restrictor, and the crude panties. Looking at the items, I know which one I prefer—by far. But as I close my eyes and imagine having to navigate being outside on my own and communicating with people in a store—women who expect me to be independent and outspoken—I just can’t do it. So I open my eyes and point to the panties. “That one.” Then I hurry into the bedroom for no apparent reason other than not wanting to face the man about to dole out the humiliation I just asked for.

Of course, he follows me. Heavy steps thud against the floor as he enters the room.

I jump onto the bed and pull the covers over me, hiding like a child. I have no idea what’s gotten into me. Nikolai has let other men touch me on several occasions. But it’s always been light play—stroking my breasts and curves or playing with my clit—and he’s always been there at my side, pulling the strings, demanding my submission. Even in the dungeon, when I learned to submit without protest, I only submitted openly to two men, and now I need to willingly subject myself to a man I have never even spoken a word to until now.

So I stay under the covers as he shoves up my skirt, finding me bottomless, my pussy already bare because I knew what was coming.

I whimper as he lifts my legs, one at a time, to put the leather panties on me. His hands are rough and calloused like Dax’s, and I try to imagine that it’s him as the leather is pulled up over my legs. But the illusion won’t stick. Because Daniil’s guttural Russian accent is nothing like Dax’s American drawl.

“Lift your hips,” Daniil says.

“I can’t do this,” I say, scooting farther under the covers and kicking my legs to free them of the leather panties.

“Do you want me to tell Nikolai that you’ve been a disobedient girl?”

Shit. I freeze. Because he’s right. If I don’t do this, I’ll directly disobey Nikolai, and there’s no way I can do that. So I slowly pull out from underneath the covers and face the man about to invade my body. I can’t escape this, but there’s one thing I can ask for to make it a bit easier.

“Will you please tie me up before you do it?” I ask in a barely audible voice. I remember the restraints of Dax’s exam table—how they always calmed me. Maybe they will this time too.

A smile pulls at his impassive features, just for a quick moment before it’s gone again. Then he leaves the room, and I scoot back down and turn around to lie on my stomach. I pull the covers over my head again, hoping not seeing will ease the humiliation. As I lie there waiting in the darkness of the covers, a twisted sort of anticipation stirs within me. Because as much as I hate this, I also want it. The humiliation and the helplessness at the hands of a stranger. Mikhail has trained me well. The need is deeply conditioned within me, and as I involuntarily clench my thighs, I realize I’m already wet.

Daniil returns a minute later, and I gasp as he pulls my right hand from beneath the covers and attaches a leather cuff to it. He makes quick work of attaching the cuff to the corner of the bed, where chains remain from when Nikolai spread me out in an X and spanked and fucked me last night. Then he does the same to the other and attaches leather cuffs to my ankles too. Before fastening my legs further, he pulls the panties back over my feet, and the appendages slap crudely against my legs as he moves the leather up around my thighs.

“No,” I whimper in a protest that doesn’t sound very convincing.

It doesn’t stop Daniil. He proceeds to attach the ankle cuffs to a spreader bar instead of the corners of the bed, then hoists my waist up and bends my legs to make me lie on my knees with my ass in the air. Before I can try to stretch my legs again, he sits behind me, knees on the spreader bar, locking me into place.

I squirm against the restraints—an instinctive reaction—as he prods the first dildo against my pussy. Shame courses through me as he pushes the tip into my wet opening. But instead of dragging me into despair, the shame seems to coil around the intrusion, gathering more liquid heat at my core.

I feel him leaning over me and hear the slide of the drawer in the nightstand opening. A moment later, his hand is on my ass, spreading my cheeks apart with one hand while dripping cold lube onto my narrow opening with the other. Tensing, I burrow further into the covers as if it would alleviate the devastating sense of defeat.

The helplessness is stark as he positions the smaller of the two dildos against my ass and presses. The tip pops straight in. Nikolai has kept up Mikhail’s training well, and I only need a little preparation to take his massive cock. This dildo is nothing compared to his size. But the small size of the dildo does nothing to alleviate the terrible humiliation as Daniil applies pressure and pushes it in.

I whimper and strain my legs against the unforgiving spreader bar, but nothing gives, and my world becomes a narrow tunnel of obtrusive invasion, sparks of unwanted pleasure, and humiliation as he starts pushing at the other dildo too, sinking both deep inside me, filling me to the brim.

Once they’re in, he doesn’t do more to tease or test. He simply pulls the leather up over my butt and stomach and straps the buckles at my waist.

“All done,” he says and starts releasing me from the restraints.

Once I’m free, I just lie there for several minutes, barely breathing, waiting for him to leave. When I don’t hear receding steps and can’t stand the waiting anymore, I slowly slip out from beneath the covers. Every tiny movement jostles the dildos inside me, making them rub against each other through the narrow wall separating them.

My face is burning hot, my pussy throbbing, as I sit up.

“Will you please leave,” I say, keeping my eyes lowered as I scoot out to sit on the edge of the mattress with my back to him.

“I need to keep an eye on you,” he simply says.

Gingerly, I stand up, supporting myself with a hand on the wall as I struggle to find my balance. I take a step and yelp at the bolt of sensation shooting through my stomach. One more, and I pause and close my eyes, breathing heavily through the intense feeling of the dildos moving.

Releasing the wall, I step farther into the room, toward the bathroom, and each step is a staggered movement. “I—I can’t go out like this,” I say in a weak voice, grabbing onto a chair.

Taking one more step, I nearly trip as the jostling sensation in my lower body makes my muscles jerk.

Daniil is at my side in an instant. “You won’t fall on my watch,” he reassures, placing a hand under my elbow.

I glance up at him and toward the walk-in closet a few steps away. The rest of the walk almost seems insurmountable, and so does getting into my remaining clothes. And I have no idea how I’m going to walk around the city like this.

Looking up at him again, I say, “Can I change my mind and get the tongue restrictor instead?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, giving a regretful shake of his head.

My face falls. Training my eyes on the floor, I just stand there, feeling hopeless, until Daniil speaks again.

“Do you want me to help you get dressed?”

I give a slight nod, and for the next two hours, I give in to his steady support as he helps me get dressed and ready to leave, leads me to the car, and lets me lean on his arm as I go from store to store.

The tongue restrictor would have been better, indeed, because I can’t seem to speak a word as my whole body pulses with aching need. Daniil ends up handling all the communication with the store people, letting me hide in the changing room while they rush around to find the right dress for me.

I’m tempted to pick the first dress that fits, but it’s far from perfect, and even desperate as I am to go back to the hotel, I can’t make myself disobey Nikolai like that. He wants the best. So I endure three trips to different stores before I can finally collapse in the backseat of the SUV with the right dress in a garment bag beside me.

When we get back to the hotel, my cheeks are flaming, and white-hot need is pounding and pulsing in my whole body. The dildos aren’t enough to make me come, and I’m as grateful as I’m disappointed. Because coming without permission would be the greatest transgression of all. But the need pulsing through me makes me desperate for release, and as Daniil helps me lie down on the bed, I think I’ll almost be able to come anyway just by squeezing my thighs together.

“Take them out, please hurry,” I beg, all my modesty having gone out the window.

“They have to stay until Nikolai returns.”

“No,” I gasp with wide eyes. “I can’t take it; it’s too much. I’ll come if they stay in.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s my order.”

“Please,” I beg, pressing my hands to my face as I squirm on the mattress. “I can’t… I just… There’s no way I can stop it.”

“Do you want me to help you not to come?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say through bated breaths.

Daniil once again attaches the leather cuffs to all four of my limbs along with a collar around my neck. This time, the wrist cuffs go on the collar with a small chain, and the ankle cuffs go onto the spreader bar again, so wide apart I can’t rub my thighs together. Finally, he hands me the fox teddy, pulls the comforter over me, and tucks me in, telling me to let him know if I need anything.

The next hour, as I wait for Nikolai to return, is painful. I flit back and forth between somewhat calm moments and stretches of panicked despair. One minute, I lie frozen on the mattress, staring at the ceiling, afraid to stir the pulsing need that has just calmed somewhat. Then I accidentally move something, and the need bursts back alive, and I succumb to desperate tears as I writhe against the restraints, seeking release, trying not to seek it, and being unable to find any. When Nikolai finally returns, I’m so desperate I think I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from coming if I were able to reach climax.

“Please, please, please,” I beg, following him with my eyes as he moves through the room and rounds the bed. “Please make me come. I can’t take it anymore. Please.”

“Shh,” he soothes, crawling under the comforter to lie beside me.

The tears break free anew as he strokes my cheek, and I burrow my head against his chest as I weep, my hips grinding against the mattress as burning need flares at my core.

“Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you,” he tells me, stroking my stomach. “Are you ready to go to dinner soon?”

“No. I can’t. I—No!” The desperation inside me doubles as I consider going any longer like this. My every muscle is taut with the need to come, trembling from the strain of denial, and my skin is sleek with sweat. “I can’t,” I repeat. “Please don’t make me.”

“Shh.” He presses a soft kiss to my temple before lifting his head and calling out, “Daniil.”

The guard is in the doorway a few seconds later.

“Remove the panties,” Nikolai tells him.

I lean out from Nikolai to aim my begging eyes at him. “Can’t you do it? Please. I can’t take any more. It’s too much.”

Nikolai strokes my hair out of my damp face. “You’ll take more because I want you to,” he tells me with confidence as if it’s supposed to be a reassurance. “Daniil won’t be the last man to touch you tonight, but I’ll be at your side the whole time.”

His words send me crashing into hollow sobs, shuddering and jerking against him as Daniil removes the ankle cuffs, then pulls out the dildos and removes the panties.

“Such a good girl,” Nikolai soothes, stroking and rocking me all the while. “You want to please your Master, right?”

“Yes,” I say, clutching his shirt as the urge to do just that swells inside me. “I do.”

“Good. The guests will arrive in an hour, and the makeup artist is already here.” He gently helps me off the bed and tucks me into his side, supporting me as he leads me to the huge bathroom. “But first, we need to get you cleaned.” He helps me into the large shower stall and detaches the cuffs from the collar to attach them to a ring in the ceiling that seems to be conveniently in place in every hotel we visit.

“Do you want me to help ease the discomfort?” he asks, flicking a finger through my dripping wet folds.

Knowing how he’ll do it, I want to say no, but there’s no way I can resist the caring tone in his voice. And I do need something to calm the pounding energy at my core. Badly. So I nod and speak in a tiny voice. “Yes please, Master.”

He removes the collar and cuts off my clothes with a switchblade, then takes his time removing his own clothes in a more formal manner.

When he grabs the handheld shower and screws on the knob that controls the temperature, I close my eyes, bracing myself.

I scream the moment he screws the other knob and icy cold water hits me. He sprays the water all over my body, and I cry again as the cold bites deep into my bones. I writhe and jerk against the restraints, but it’s no use. I’m stuck in place. Forced to take the icy spray.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he soothes once he turns the temperature up and steps in with me, wrapping a supportive arm around my waist.

I sink into him, weeping like a child as he soaps us both up, then takes his time rinsing with warm water.

“Did that help?” he asks as he unbuckles the wrist cuffs and helps me out of the stall.

Sniffling and biting my lower lip, I nod. The pounding heat between my legs has died down. I feel it lurking in the shadows, ready to come alive at the slightest touch, but the tingling sensation that remains is bearable.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Taking my head between his hands, he kisses my forehead, then wraps a towel around me and calls out for Daniil to bring in the makeup artist.

***