Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Let me go!”
I twitch the switch in my hand, letting my wrist do the work to whip her ass again. I would never have put her in this position myself, but the fact that she has managed to do it herself is quite pleasing. Right now it is the only pleasing thing about her.
“I am not going to let you go. Stop fighting.”
“No!”
She’s panicked and she needs to be fucked. My cock is rock hard right now, and the urge to rise up and mate her like I know she needs to be mated is almost impossible to resist, but I restrain myself. There are more important things that have to happen first.
“Yes,” I growl. “Or I will do something to you with this switch that you will regret.”
“Let me go!”
She repeats herself, not listening to me. I line the switch up again. This time it’s not going horizontally across her ass. This time it’s oriented vertically up and down. I flick my wrist and the whippy branch catches her between her spread cheeks, catching not only the tight little bud of her asshole, but her pussy lips as well. It’s a harsh treatment for a virgin, but I have no intention of backing down. I’m going to whip her until she submits.
It’s clear she’s never been made to give in before, and that isn’t good for her. It’s not good for me either, in the attempt to handle her. There are more important things to do than continuing to stripe her perfect ass and gorgeous pussy. More important things than burying my cock deep inside her and showing her precisely what she really is.
I am almost maddened by the urge to fuck her. My self-control is hanging by a thread. I have not felt this much lust in years, perhaps ever. I know what that might mean, but I can’t think about that.
Her whines and cries increase in intensity until finally she does what I want her to do: she submits. She softens, she whimpers, and she stops fighting me.
The moment her energy shifts, I soften. I pull her close to me, and I snug her underwear up over her sore ass. I need her covered, though the thin layer of fabric does absolutely nothing to dull her scent.
Anya
This man has whipped me so intimately. I hate him. I fear him. I want him. I want him more than I have ever wanted anybody in my life. Lust is charging through my body, making me wet and willing, even though I am sure I loathe him more than I have ever loathed anybody.
He makes things worse by picking me up, as if I am some kind of creature to be owned.
I wish more than ever that I could take my wolf form. If I could, I’d bite him so damn hard. I’d make him pay for every bit of humiliating pain he just put me through. I would never do what the rest of the pack did and just roll over and submit to him. I don’t think he’s that special. I just think he’s big and mean. I’m a girl, which means my whole life has been full of big and mean things. I’m not impressed.
The Russian throws me over his shoulder and starts carrying me off to his car. I panic immediately. Whatever he just did to me in the field is going to be so much worse if he gets to do it to me in private. If he takes me to a second location, he’s going to… I don’t know. I just know the words ‘second location’ are the worst two words a female abductee will probably never hear.
I start squirming, kicking, fighting harder than before. I almost get free several times. It’s hard to keep me on his shoulder, no matter how strong he is. My wriggling and writhing is working.
“Stop fighting. You are making a scene,” he says, his accent thickening with annoyance. “I am trying to help you, silly girl.”
“Helllllppppppp!”
I shriek at the top of my lungs.
But nobody comes to help. The pack is staying well clear of all of us.
My hands are free. I smack his ass as hard as I can. It’s like hitting a round drum of pure steel. It does absolutely nothing to him as far as I can tell. He doesn’t even flinch, let alone make a satisfying sound.
What he does is smack my ass back, what feels like just as hard, maybe more. I am not stoic. Not even a little. I scream at the top of my lungs as pure pain flashes through me. Even clothed, that slap hurt like hell over all those lashes and previous spanks.
“Stop your dramatics,” he growls at me. “I am helping you.”
My mother told me all about the dangerous Russians. I know the marks they left on her. I know that she was never the same after what happened to her in those orphanages, and I know she got the hell out of Russia as soon as she could, back before I was born.