Matryusha and Niolai

Matryushka and Nikolai

She was a spy, there to steal his company secrets and give them to whoever had hired her. Most likely, the government officials that had been rejecting their bribes on moral grounds. Nikolai smiled a tight smile as he contemplated the various ways in which he would torture them, once he got his hands on them. The girl, of course, was already his. She just did not know it yet.

"Alexander, Sokol, come," he gestured for his two best men to follow him, then he turned and strolled down the long hallway to his penthouse suite. Pausing at the entryway, he issued them with brief instructions, "Wait five minutes, precisely. Then come in and help me to subdue her. I want her frightened but mostly unharmed, is that clear?"

"Da, Nikolai," they nodded. He patted their broad shoulders, before spinning around and swiping the card to unlock the door.

Stepping into the opulent room, he found her waiting for him at the far end, by the king size bed. She was tall, lean, and gorgeous, with long blonde hair and full, slightly pouty lips typical of their women. Her full breasts and small waist were accentuated by the tight, black cocktail dress she wore, which also showed off her long, shapely legs. He still had no idea how old she really was, nor did he care. She was over eighteen, that was all that mattered. Otherwise, they would not have hired her.

"Hello, my little matryushka," he said, strolling toward her. "Thank you for waiting for me so patiently."

"That's OK, Nikolai. I know you're a busy man." She smiled at him but did not move from her position. Whoever trained her, did a good job. What a pity their efforts were about to go to waste.

Deliberately, he slowed his step and opened his arms wide, inviting her to come to him.

"Come, my little doll, let me see those hips move." His smile was wide and carefree, giving her no hint of his intentions. "You know that's what drew me to you, down in that bar, don't you?"

"Yes, I know," she said, blushing slightly. That could not be trained, he knew. It was just his charisma doing its magic on her. Idly, he watched her walking over to him, her hips sashaying seductively. When she was within arm's reach, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Grinding his hips against hers, letting her feel his erection, he leaned down and kissed her. She opened up to him without hesitation, and once again he had the feeling of a strong mutual attraction. This, he felt, was a good thing, though it would not make him change his mind.

He was, after all, part of the Russian mafia, and they did not take any chances with spies.

After the kiss, he checked his watch. Three minutes and thirty seconds remaining.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked, letting go of her and strolling to the mini bar. "Vodka with lemon juice, perhaps?"

It was what she had been drinking at the bar, and she gave him a big smile as she replied, "Yes, please. You have a good memory."

The drinks poured, he passed her the glass and said, "Nazdarovie."

They both drank, and he noted in passing that her hand shook slightly. She was nervous, either because of how much she fancied him, or because she suspected her cover had been blown. Again, he did not really care. Either way, her days as a free woman were numbered. He leaned against the nearby cabinet, inviting her in with his posture and with the smoldering look he gave her. She hesitated for only a second, before stepping up close and pressing herself against him.

"Allow me," he said, taking her empty glass from her. After setting it down carefully, he ran his hand through her long, blonde mane, and from there, across her bare back. "You dress very provocatively, matryushka. Are you sure you're not a hooker?"

Her blue eyes opened wide in mock-offence, as she replied, "Nikolai! Please! Do not speak to me like that, unless you want me to leave right this minute!"

He laughed indulgently, while pretending to apologise. As he hugged her, he brought his hand up behind her back and checked the time again. Sixty seconds.

"So, tell me, my doll," he whispered in her ear, inhaling her perfume, "since you're not a hooker... who do you work for?"

She flinched as though he had struck her and pulled away from him. Staring at him hard.

"What... do you mean?" she asked, glancing behind her. Mapping out her escape route. He smiled at her as he informed her politely,

"Come, now, Katia. That's your code name, isn't it? Let's not play games. I know why you're here, trying to seduce me. I suspected you from the moment I laid my eyes on you, that's why I asked my men to run a check on you. Turns out, I was right. And I'm sorry but I can't let you have that thing you came for."

As he spoke, she shoved at his chest and backed away from him. Nikolai let her, without blinking an eyelid. His lack of interest in chasing her should have given her a clue, but she was too anxious to think clearly. He watched her as she turned and tried to run, and then the door opened and Alex and Sokol came into the room.

"Nooo!" Katia cried, when she saw them. It was such a primal scream, made in the split moment before capture, and as always, it fascinated him.

"There's no point in screaming," he told her, while she struggled against his men, ineffectually. "We are on top of the building, and we have the entire floor to ourselves. So, my little doll, the only ones that will hear you are Alexander, Sokol, and I. Do you see what I'm saying, little doll?"

She stopped screaming then, but continued to struggle, earning herself several harsh slaps in the process. True to their instructions, the men handled her roughly, subduing her through the use of force. Twisting her arms behind her back, they lifted her off the floor, so that her legs kicked through the air while they carried her across the room. Along the way, one of her high-heeled shoes flew off and landed next to him. Idly, Nikolai picked it up and started playing with it as he spoke.

"Cuff her, and put her in that chair over there, by the window. Thank you, boys."

Barefoot, trembling, but otherwise unharmed, Katia gazed at him tearfully while the men snapped the handcuffs around her wrists. The moment they had manhandled her into the chair, she began pleading with him,

"Don't kill me! Please, don't kill me! I'm not your enemy, I swear it on my father's grave! I'm just..."

He cut her off by signalling Sokol to slap her, one more time. In the ensuing silence, her short, gasping breaths were loud in his ears, testifying to her terror.

"I am sorry to treat you this way, my little doll," he said, stepping up close, still playing with her shoe. "I would've asked you to shut up, if I thought you'd listen. See, the truth is, the Russian mafia doesn't care about your story. The 'why' doesn't matter to us, only the 'what' and the 'who'. In your case, the 'what' is an attempt to steal valuable information, and the 'who' is you, matryushka. So, my options are very limited. I can kill you here or take you somewhere else and kill you there. Or I can make you disappear. It's what we do with all the spies that we catch. Surely, they explained this to you, when they gave you the assignment?"

She shook her head, while continuing to tremble violently, sitting before him with her head bowed. To Nikolai, she looked both vulnerable and beautiful - more beautiful than when she was smiling a fake smile at him, trying to seduce him.

"No?" he asked, tapping the shoe against his open palm. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. "Answer me, please, Katia. Did they tell you what would happen to you if you were caught, or no?"

"N-no... No..." She was starting to cry, and he squatted in front of her so that he could smooth her hair away from her face and get her to look at him. When, at last, she did so, he smiled at her and said,

"I believe you. You know, I really do. Our enemies rarely tell their agents exactly what they're in for, when sending them to spy on us. I also believe you couldn't possibly have been so naive, as to not know whom you were dealing with. We do have a bit of a reputation, am I right? So now, why don't you tell me who sent you, who your contacts were, and what you have managed to find out, before I caught you? Tell me, so I can make this quick and painless for you, matryushka."

He let the silence stretch between them while he waited for her to answer. Five seconds, ten seconds, fifteen.

Some sixty seconds later, under the scrutiny of his pale blue gaze, she caved. Through a curtain of tears, in a shaky voice punctuated by gasps of fear, she told him everything he needed to know. He was so pleased with her in the end, that he leaned in and kissed her on her trembling lips, savouring their satiny softness. Then, still with his hand in her hair, cupping her head gently, he barked a command to his men.

"Go tell our boss what you just found out. Leave me to deal with her."

They departed without a word, closing the door behind them with a soft click.

"Alone, at last," Nikolai said, smiling. He set down the shoe he had been holding, so that he could stroke the side of her face, while keeping firm hold of her hair. She offered no resistance while he did this, allowing him to tilt her head back and run his hand over her face and her trembling lips, at will. Seriously aroused now, he licked the side of her neck, then added casually, "You know, I'm so glad you answered all my questions when I asked them... if you hadn't, I was going to stab your thigh with that stiletto heel. Imagine the mess that would've made."

Listening to him, she closed her eyes and shuddered, and he observed her in silence for a while, savoring her fear the way some people savor fine art. At last, though, he could wait no longer. Grabbing her under one elbow, above her handcuffed wrists, he pulled her up and out of the chair, and marched her over to the bed.

"Come," he said, "it's time you performed the task you were meant to perform, when you first agreed to come up here."

"No, please!" she cried, struggling against him. He was both bigger and stronger, and threw her onto the bed easily, onto her front, before grabbing her ankles and pulling her toward him.

"Would you rather I just kill you?" he asked, as he hiked her dress up, roughly. "That is your only alternative, my pretty little doll, my matryushka. Think about it. Think very carefully."

She stopped struggling for a moment, and he used the hiatus to rip her lace undies off her and unbuckle his belt. Set free from its prison, his erection sprung forward, hard and ready for action. He stroked it lovingly with one hand, while with the other he caressed her ass cheeks, one by one.

"Well?" he asked, impatiently. "What have you decided?"

She shook violently, all over, as she replied brokenly, "I want to live. Please, just let me live."

That, however, was not a promise he was willing to make.

"Let's see how you perform, first," he said, slipping his hand lower, between her legs. He found her pussy tight but wet, and as his fingers slid inside it, she moaned. "Mhmm... good girl," he murmured softly - then, with her sweet moans in his ears and the smell of her pussy in his nostrils, he lowered his hips to hers and took her.

He was well-endowed and she was tight, gripping him most deliciously as he pushed his way inside her. Although she was quite wet already, he had to use considerable force to do it, and she screamed at the violation, making him laugh.

"What did I tell you about screaming, little doll?" But he did not try to stop her, for example by gagging her. He only held onto her cuffed wrists to keep her in position as he buried himself to the hilt. Her screams and moans, along with the shaking of her body and kicking of her legs, excited him more than words could say. She was not in any real pain, he knew. What's more, her pussy was pulsing gently around his shaft, evidencing her body's arousal, regardless of any fear or repulsion that she felt toward him. It was this inner conflict that he enjoyed, more than anything.

"Fuck, you feel good," he told her. And then, he began drilling her. Slowly at first, then more and more quickly, as her body responded to him by producing more of its natural lubricant. The room echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, and her pitiful cries, for a long time. He delayed his climax in order to prolong his pleasure, which also made her more desperately conflicted, with each minute that passed by.

When she grew quiet, he pulled out of her and flipped her onto her back, then lowered himself on top of her. Her bound wrists remained trapped under her, causing her back to arch and her large breasts to thrust upward invitingly. Following a brief pause to admire the view, he kicked her legs open and speared her with ridiculous ease, noticing how it made her gasp.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, with a smile. "Because I sure am."

She seemed unable to speak, or to look at him, lying there with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. He resumed drilling her, moving his hips in such a way that his pelvic muscles rubbed on her clit, continually. Soon, she was moaning and writhing underneath him, and in the heat of the moment, he grabbed her dress and ripped it in two. She wore no bra and as her breasts spilled out, in all their glorious fullness, his breath caught in his throat.

"Mmhmm... you're even sexier than I thought," he said, leaning down and taking one of the soft orbs in his mouth. As his teeth clamped down on her pert nipple, she screamed, shook, and came. She came so hard, in fact, that he felt her juices leaking out of her and around the base of his cock, which was throbbing hotly. No, Nikolai, do not come. Not yet. But in the next moment, as he speared her deep for the hundredth time, he felt it.

"Ahh fuuuck!!" he cried, as waves of pleasure ripped through him, causing his balls to constrict and sperm to shoot out of his cock, deep inside her. There was no force in the world that could move his hips backward in this moment, and so, he remained buried to the hilt, with his balls resting against her and pumping her full of his seed.

She was crying when he pulled out of her, at last, and the sight turned him on so much that he decided to feed her his cock, still covered in her juices and with cum dripping out of it.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, having positioned himself above her. "I want you to clean me. Do it, or I will have to hurt you, Katia."

It was a real struggle for her, he could see that, but that only made it sweeter, in his view. Just seeing her opening her mouth slowly, reluctantly, her pretty face shiny with tears and blushing in embarrassment at the same time - was enough to give him another hard-on, almost instantly. Holding onto his cock, he kept it poised in front of her pouty lips, until her mouth was open wide. Then he fed it to her, inch by inch, making her gag.

"Gggghh..."

The sounds emanating from the back of her throat turned him on still further. Revelling in the humiliation he was causing her, he fucked her face extra slowly and for a long time, waiting till he was fully hard again. Then he pulled out and flipped her onto her front, none too gently.

"Time for your ass to see some action, yes?"

That made her scream all over again, so he spanked her to snap her out of it. He had to spank her quite hard, but he did not mind. The sight of her reddened ass cheeks made him more aroused, and he wanted to be as hard as possible, while sodomising her sweet little ass.

"Please! Not my ass! Please!" she begged, ever so sweetly. He, of course, took it as a sign to continue.

"Let me make one thing clear," he intoned, while slipping his fingers into her pussy and spreading some of her own juices over her puckered sphincter. "You don't make any decisions, here. As of today, you belong to me, for me to use as I wish. And right now, I wish to sodomize you, so stop your screaming and relax, or this will hurt more than it needs to."

Katia, however, could not do either of those things. She was so shocked by what he was doing, in fact, that she did not appear to have heard him, at all. As he spread her ass cheeks apart and pushed the tip of his glorious, hard cock inside her tight little asshole, she threw her head back, screaming and begging in an even higher pitch,

"Oh God! Oh God! Pleeease! Oh God! Nooo! Pleeease!"

"That's it," he said, laughing. "Keep it up, little doll, it's turning me on."

The cruel taunt, together with the anal penetration itself, broke her down completely, reducing her to tears. He took no notice of it, but spitted her deep, making her legs jerk. Then he began to fuck her slowly, holding onto her hips while she trembled and cried. Once her asshole was sufficiently loosened, he sped up the tempo, rooting her with abandon. She sobbed and shook helplessly, the entire time, some half an hour or more. But her distress appeared to be more emotional than physical, as he found out when, toward the end, he slipped his hand under her and felt for her clit. He found her sopping wet and swollen, and as he fingered her pleasure bud, she screamed with pleasure. A few seconds later, she squirted all over his hand and he felt her ass constricting around his cock.

"Mmmhmm... you can't hate it too much. You just came, again," he teased her. A moment later, he was coming, himself, shooting sperm deep into her bowels.

He stayed lying on top of her, with his cock still buried in her ass, for a long time after. Stroking her face gently, while she cried.

"Shhh... don't cry now, little doll," he crooned to her, though he did not really care, either way. If anything, her tears were a sign of a job well done, on his part - the icing on the cake, so to speak. He enjoyed them almost as much as the deed itself, and so, he let her cry for a long time, until sheer exhaustion finally made her stop. Then, he kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear,

"About that thing you asked me, earlier. You did well, matryushka. Really well. I think I shall keep you for a while longer..."