Brooch of Borozhniy

Author's comment: This story contains the supernatural and has dark themes in it. If that is not what you want to read, please close it now. It is the result of me challenging myself to approach the category. Comments regarding the content or style are appreciated.

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The house was something out of a movie. Three floors rose above the ground, an aditional tower rising on each sied. One tower was topped with a wrought iron railing for the widow's walk. It was a large hulk, in need of repair, yet it seemed to fit perfectly with the dark stratus clouds being pushed through the sky above it and the bare trees moving in the March wind surrounding it. A few patches of Colorado snow lay in the shadows of buildings or trees, waiting for the mountains to allow enough moisture to pass over to provide a new covering. It was a cold day, and it perfectly fit her state of mind.

Marie Annette Laneige stood next to her car, hoping the loud exhaust hadn't disturbed any of the other people there. She had expected a larger crowd for an estate sale, but there were only a half dozen cars nearby, and no people in sight outside the house. She turned the key in the door of her 20 year old compact car, locking it, as she imagined all the other, newer and obviously more expensive cars, were locked by remote. Pulling her coat more tightly around herself, she walked up the stairs and entered the gloomy foyer.

Dark paneling on the walls seemed to absorb more light than it reflected. Large paintings covered much of the wall showing those who lived here in years past or their relatives, and ceramics of various shapes and sized covered many of the flat surfaces. Some dust circles showed where an object had stood until a recent sale. How could anybody live in a house like this, she thought. It seemed as if the house itself was dying.

"May I help you?" The deep baritone voice, made richer by the slavic accent, made her jump and she turned to look at the man who had spoken. She immediately saw that he was well dressed, white shirt with a perfect triangle of black tie showing between the button-down collars. The tie quickly disappeared under his black double-breasted suit coat. His hair was black and combed close to his head, but the dark eyes and black Van Dyke held her attention. He could have walked out on stage to play Mephistopheles without having to change a thing. She prided herself on knowing some literature. Her older brothers had always told her how stupid she was.

"Oh, hello," she stammered. "Yes, I'm hoping to find an inexpensive dresser or bureau. It looks like everything might be well beyond my price range, though."

He smiled. For a moment she thought his teeth were filed to points, but then she blinked and they were normal. It must be the house, she thought.

"You may be surprised by the prices. As you might notice, we still have most of the furnishings, and they must be removed one way or another. The house was built in 1823, but as you may have noticed, the last owner did not keep it up very well and the engineers say it is not safe for continued use. What size of furniture were you looking for?"

She smiled but looked away as she answered. "I only have a small two room apartment. It can't be large or I'll need to remove the bed." She tried a laugh, felt self conscious, then looked at him. He was smiling, apparently appreciating her humor.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I've been rude. I should have asked your name. I'm Rubyanich, the executor for the estate."

Her shy smile returned, along with an odd warmth on her skin. "I'm Marie. Marie Annette Laneige. My grandparents came from France, and this pale skin seems to be a family curse."

He lightly touched her cheek, and it seemed to warm her a little in a strange way. "Hardly a curse, my dear. Your skin highlights your brunette hair, lovely blue eyes, and red lips. It makes you more lovely and you should appreciate that."

Warm or not, she pulled her coat more tightly around her and wished she had bought a larger coat instead of coming here to look for furniture. She had gained weight again, and the size 10 coat was getting snug on her now size 12 body. She was only a few inches over five feet tall, and the extra pounds always seemed to obvious. Even the large, meaty breasts that resulted did not seem sexy to her, though she really didn't want to look sexy.

His hand touched her again, cold fingers making her warm. "My dear, you look embarrassed. I'm sorry if I upset you with my compliment. My family tree is a long line of gypsies, travelers and nomads, and when we see beauty, we appreciate it."

"Oh, uh, gypsies. I don't think I've ever met a gypsy. I guess it explains your name though. Is it Russian?" She was trying to show again that she wasn't stupid, that she did understand and know some things about the world.

He took his hand away and motioned for her to follow him. "My family traveled through many lands, many places, and Russia was one of them. But at one time, it wasn't called Russia. A milenia ago it the slavic lands were wild and untamed, controled by those who could be strong enough to hold the loyalty of a group of people, and those who permitted certain groups unwelcome in other places to find a refuge. Always watched, of course, but still, a refuge."

He had led her up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. Tall windows seemed to offer little light, but the bed, surface high off the floor to avoid the drafts of cold falling off the glass panes of the windows, was covered in an off-white blanket that made the room a little more inviting. She stared at the bed, thinking how inviting it looked. It seemed there was a voice, a whisper she could barely hear.

"Marie, here is a bureau that might work for your small room. It's heavy, but not large, and the mirror, of course, would come with it. Good lighting would reflect off the glass and brighten your bed." He pointed to a piece of dark furniture, beautifully carved with leaves and branches wrapping around a mirror that extended up to about six feet. She did seem brighter in it. Brighter, pink with life. Warm.

She gasped as she recognized the warmth. It had come when he touched her, and now when he had her look into the mirror. How did he do that?

"The workmanship is unmatched, as you can see. There is no other bid, and I told you everything will go by sale or by destruction, so don't worry about the price. Why don't you take a closer look?"

She reached out and ran her fingers over the carvings. This time she heard it, he said a word. Very softly. "Tvodoyeznik." Her fingers felt the curves and edges of the carvings and they were, arousing? It was as if she carressed a sensual object, deriving sexual pleasure from the very wood.

Her hand had grasped a handle and pulled open the drawer before she even realized she had done so. Inside was a brooch, the center a gem, deep red in color, with many small wires extending outward like rays, or like legs, every other wire with its own little stone on the end. She picked it up. "This is lovely. I guess somebody forgot to take it out." She extended her hand to him.

Rubyanich took her hand and closed her fingers on the brooch. "Ah, the brooch of Borozhniy. I wondered where this had gone. It isn't on the inventory, however, so why don't you just keep it." He kept holding her hand, and she didn't pull away.

"You seem familiar with this," she said. Suddenly she didn't want to let go of it. Her hand felt like something soft was rubbing her, kissing her hand.

He smiled. "The brooch is well know among some gypsy families. They say it's from a princess who lived hundreds of years ago in the wild, barely tamed lands of the border region when the princes of Kiyev, Muscovy, and Lithuania were first pushing back the mongols. The princess was beautiful, and the tales say her husband the prince was never cold at night as she was also very sensual. This brooch was made especially for her, as a sign of his love for her. Some rumors say she was loved so much that she continues to live in the very stone."

Marie looked up at the smiling man, seemingly lost in a memory. "He really loved his wife?"

Now his baritone laugh filled the room. "My dear, of course. He was a prince, and could have had any woman he wanted. After he married Nadezhda, the tales say he had no desire for any other." His lips moved and she struggled to hear. "Nadovayat."

The lovely brooch in her hand suddenly seemed to attach itself to her. There was sharp pain in her palm as the wires seemed to dig in. Instinctively she shook her hand to get rid of it, but the brooch did not release. Instead, it seemed to make her feel as if she was caressing a human body as she tried to remove it. Stunned, she stopped and looked at the stone.

"Dorobaya tchinkoy." The word was soft, but suddenly Marie felt as if wet fingers were rubbing her nipples. She sucked in a breath and her eyes went wide. She was embarrassed and aroused at the same time. She looked at the man and his eyes seemed to swallow her will.

"You seem to be in some discomfort, my dear. Please, lie on the bed and rest."

She felt him take her hand and lead her to the bed. He had to lift her to set her on the bed, doing so with a gentleness she was unfamiliar with, then turned her so her head was just below the pillow, her legs toward the foot of the bed and slightly spread. He helped her open her coat, showing her dark green dress with the high scoop of the neck and loose skirt falling almost to her knees. The nipple massage continued as he bent over to brush her hair with his hands.

A word, whispered into her ear too softly to even understand, and suddenly her breasts felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing, kneading, teasing while the nipples changed to a sensation of being sucked. Marie's head was clouded, but she knew she was becoming aroused, wanting to have her sexual tension released.

He helped her move her legs farther apart. Through the fog of her thoughts there was another word. "Breshyevoya." A tongue. It felt as if a tongue was licking her, right through her panties. Or were they gone? She was moaning, twisting on the bed. She looked up at Rubyanich and saw his hands extended over her, but he was not touching her. What was arousing her like this? Suddenly there was slight penetration of her vagina, but her clit was being softly sucked. She couldn't lift her head to see what it was, where the delightful sensations came from.

An invisible hand covered her mouth, a wiggling shape entering and muffling her scream as she climaxed. It was a hard climax, with a second wave coming seconds after the first began to subside, and then a third that had her screaming so hard she couldn't breathe in.

She was free. Nothing touched her, and Rubyanich was at the dresser, writing something down. She felt the glow and knew she had just had three orgasms, and yet, nobody had actually touched her. He had helped her lay down so she would feel better, and she certainly did now. She gave a contented sigh and he turned to her.

"I do hope that means you feel better now. You seemed close to passing out not long ago and then you seemed to have an unusual dream." She nodded. "You may have this bureau for fifty dollars. The brooch is a free gift, since we did not have it listed for sale."

The brooch! She realized it wasn't in her hand and felt on the bed. Her hand brushed it and then grabbed it, but there was no warmth now, only cold metal and stone. She moved her coat aside and pinned it to her dress.

"Thank you, and thank you so much for the price. I feel as if it just belongs with me."

His smile was warm and frightening at the same time. "Indeed, I think it does. Now, I just need your address and a good time to deliver it. You will have it tomorrow."

"Ohh, tomorrow, wow. That's great. I have the cash for that." She gave him her address and told him she worked until 3 but would be home by 4. All arrangements were made and he walked her back to the front door to see her off. "Thank you again, Mister Rubyanich. I'm so glad I came here. The dresser is beautiful, and so is the brooch. And thank you for taking care of me when I didn't feel well."

"Taking care of you, my dear, was entirely my pleasure. Oh, and it isn't Mister. Simply Rubyanich. Perhaps I will see you again."

She laughed. "I don't think I can afford, or fit, any other furniture, but if I see you in a store I'll be sure to say hello."

As she walked to her car she looked again at the other cars there. She hadn't seen anybody except Rubyanich. Where were the other people? She got into her car, barely believing her luck at getting such good furniture, and drove home.

For the rest of the day, she thought about that strange experience. It had actually felt like her nipples were being sucked, although only Rubyanich and she were in the room, and she could see he was standing next to the bed. And what were those strange words he spoke. He said it wasn't Russian, but it did sound like it to her. Strangely, she remembered that he said words, but she couldn't remember a single one.

She lay on her own bed, naked, legs spread, masturbating before sleep. She didn't do that often, but the memory of her shopping trip was so real in her mind, she just had to release the extra tension. There were no hidden hands this time, but the orgasm was strong and echoed in her body for a long time, leaving her spent and smiling.

She woke up in the middle of the night, crying, curled into a ball like she used to do at home. She had been dreaming. Dreaming of the first time, when her father had walked into her room. She was twelve years old and he looked at her. "Your mother's drunk again, and you're the only other female in this house. Get over here and suck me." His pants were at his thighs and she saw an erect penis for the first time. Half an hour later she was laying naked on her bed, curled up, crying, with a pain between her legs.

She rememebered. It was the first of many nights, and then days. Her father, then he invited her older brothers, then her younger brother as he became old enough to meet dad's standards. Mom was drunk or high more and more often, never trying to save her daughter, in fact seemingly leaving her to the whims of the father while running to some hidden place inside herself. In a few years, Marie knew that feeling of running, and of hiding. When she got the chance, she left home and never looked back.

A few boys who dated her were nice. Most were interested in that space between her legs and in what they needed to do to get there. Marie learned what a good orgasm could feel like from the few who were masters of their craft. Most, however, just wanted a quick fuck and then were gone. She found her way to Colorado, got a job, a small apartment, and her first piece of really nice furniture. Or she would have it, when it arrived after work tomorrow.

In the late morning, her supervisor came up to her to ask if everything was all right, saying she seemed distracted. Marie smiled and said things were fine, she had just had a bad dream and hadn't slept well after. That much was true. In the afternoon, her supervisor's boss, Amos, stopped by her desk, his leering smile on his fat face making his purpose obvious. She was gaining weight, but the sight of his belly draped over a belt that was unseen under the curve of the shirt in front only reminded her of what she had left behind.

Home by half past three, she decided to stay in her work clothes. She felt it made her look more professional and the delivery crew might treat her with more respect that way. The brooch, sitting on top of her nightstand, caught her attention and she went to it. Again, it almost seemed alive, as if the wires were little legs trying to move it. It had stung her hand yesterday, and refused to let go even when she shook her hand, but there were no marks on her skin. So much about yesterday was strange, almost dreamlike. She seemed to remember laying on a bed with unseen hands and mouths caressing, arousing her. And finally that orgasm. She couldn't believe she had climaxed there, with Rubyanich standing next to her, but when she got home her panties were damp. No, they were wet, wetter than she had ever been before. Or was that just another dream and she was waiting for something that she really didn't buy?

A knock on the door brought her back to earth. She opened to find two men on the landing, and the dresser. "I am Emil, this is Yuri," he spoke with the same heavy accent Rubyanich had. "We are here to deliver the dresser."

She smiled. "Come on in and I'll show you where it needs to go." She was pleased to find that she had actually made the purchase, but didn't understand Emil's smile.

He had seen the brooch and told her to point out where to put the heavy item, then they would bring it in. She pointed to a place in her bedroom and as he turned to rejoin Yuri on the landing, he spoke softly. "Dorobaya tchinkoy."

Marie gasped and turned away quickly as the sensation of having her nipples caressed returned to her. By the time the men returned with the dresser, she was feeling extremely aroused. She moved out of the way so they could place the furniture correctly and she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Twin bumps showed on her bustline, bumps that could only have one source. She blushed and barely noticed Emil's lips move again.

Now it felt as if a gentle hand was massaging her clit, already wet with arousal. The dresser was slid into place. Yuri was closest and held her arms with his hands. "Are you well, princess? Do you need help?"

She looked at him, confused. "Princess? I'm not a princess. I'm, I'm nobody."

Another word spoken too softly for her to hear and it felt as if the most wonderful object had been inserted into her, begging permission to satisfy every sexual craving she had. Bent over from the overwhelming sensations, she hurried to the living area. Rubyanich stood there, smiling.

He spoke and waved his hand and she froze. "Unzip, my love. I am not ready for you quite yet, but my loyal servants deserve a reward for their service before you are truly out of reach. Good girl, now those other garments."

Part of her was thinking of her father, but this was so much kinder than her father. Rubyanich spoke quietly, prepared her, gave her a gift. All things her father and brothers had done to her were mean and cruel. They called her names. He called her his love. And he spoke of rewards, not shared mistreatment.

He took her hand and guided her back to her bed. Emil and Yuri were already there with pants off. Each had an erect penis showing and with a word in her ear that was meaningless to her, she bent and first kissed Emil's, then Yuri's penis before laying on the bed. One was between her legs, the other over her head. Rubyanich spoke another word and they moved, Emil sliding into her wet, craving vagina, Yuir into her mouth. She wanted this. She craved this, but even more, she longed for the day when Rubyanich would take her and make her his own.

The men seemed to be able to just go. After fifteen minutes she was nearing a third orgasm, still craving the attention of the delivery men. She glanced at the man in charge, who smiled and nodded. "And now, my princess, we finish for today. By the end of next week, you will be mine, sharing my throne."

She felt the men tense and at the same time begin pulsing into her. She cried out in ecstasy, Yuri's penis muffling the happy sound. She was still floating in her arousal for a few minutes and when she regained her senses and looked around, Emil and Yuri were gone.

"Rest now, my love. The brooch is still learning you, and you may have more bad dreams, but soon that will end." Rubyanich bent from the side of the bed and kissed her, his tongue entering her mouth and seeming to snake its way down to her throat. It was strange, but intensely erotic and she began to respond once again when he broke the kiss, put his hand on her forehead and said something softly in a strange language.