Captured by the Count: An Abduction and Breeding Fantasy (5 page)

Being dried off was no less traumatic or uncomfortable. 
The sheets they used felt as if they were made of burlap or worse, especially on her throbbing backside, which seemed to be a great source of moist
ure
, if the amount of time they spent lingering there to dry it was any indication.
  And then one of them stood in front of her and told her to spread her legs, which she adamantly refused to do. 

One small nod and her ankles were practically kicked out from under her as the bigger
of the two men knocked her legs well apart, till she nearly tipped over from the awkwardness of the position, and she would have if the other man hadn’t been holding her so tightly.  When they each had a hold of her upp
er arms again, she realized that she didn’t know where the other woman had gone – until she felt the wicked sting of that paddle against her backside again.

Within a disgracefully few swats,
Cassie was horse from howling, not that that stopped or even slowed the matron’s cadence as she beat the young woman’s buttocks nearly raw.

Blubbering, screaming, begging
did no good whatsoever, but Cassie found she couldn’t stop doing any of them, regardless, even when the Count reappeared to lean back against the wall and just watch her completely degradation.

Finally, the spanking ended, and Cassie was almost to overwrought by it to notice how
intimately she was being dried.  There was no hesitation at all in the older woman’s actions – she reached up between Cassie’s well spread legs and rubbed her dry nearly to the point of chafing those very intimate parts of her.  And then she went around back to do the same thing between the folds of her bottom
, leaving Cassie feelings thoroughly violated and horribly sore in places she had never even thought about before.  The area between her legs thrummed with nearly the same, pulse-driven stinging that her thoroughly reddened backside did.

She was led – relatively docilely
and still buck naked
– back i
nto the
room in which she had awakened.  The Count followed them and took a seat in an office chair and began casually
reading a newspaper, as if nothing special was going on.  She desperately wanted to lunge at him and rip his heart out, but considering the way that her behind felt, she judiciously decided against it.  She would bide her time and find an escape – there
had
to be one.

Didn’t there?

Cassie was even more unprepared for what happened next, when one of the women – the o
ne he had referred to as Matushka – patted the top of a long thin table, indicating that she was expected to get on top of it
.  Although she had not been allowed any sort of covering whatsoever, and she had been rudely poked and prodded by those horrible women already in the course of that bath, she was still doing her best to maintain her modesty, keeping one arm across her breasts and her palm cupped
tightly
over her mons.

“She’s well seated, Sir,”
the female who had gestured for her to get onto the table said.

“Ah, thank you.  That was exactly what I was hoping for.”

“I’ll know more in just a second, but I’m very sure of the discovery I made while bathing her.”

“I would like to take a look for myself, if you don’t mind, Matushka.  Not that I don’t trust you.  I just
want to see and feel it myself
.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Cassie had no idea what they were talking about, but she had a good idea that she probably wouldn’t like it.  And she had yet to
take her place on
the table, so the paddle reappeared
, and the person who was wielding it took absolutely no notice of the fact that she had already been most thoroughly chastised just a few minutes before.

She promised herself that she wouldn’t give in and make such a demeaning commotion as she had
the last time, but
all her
brave
resolve
crumbl
ed b
y the third tremendous swat, and
of course the punishment went on much longer than that.  By the time it ended, she was more than happy to take her place on the strange looking table that didn’t seem anywhere near long enough for her to lie on
; her legs from the knees down hung over the end.

That was when the two men came to each pull an arm straight above her head, attaching a softly padded but nonetheless extremely strong cuff around each of her wrists, restraining them tightly enough that she couldn’t raise them even an inch off the table.

While they were doing that, the women were at her legs, prying them apart and securing her
into some sort of contraption that looked something like a stirrup on a saddle, but positioned so that her legs were spread uncomfortably – and
mortifyingly
– wide apart.

After she was secured, the guards took up their positions on either side of the door, but the Count and the two women gathered at the end of the table, staring directly
at her most shameful spot, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it except begin to cry, which, mu
ch to her consternation, that’s exactly what she did
.

Cassie wanted to be strong.  She wanted to show them that there was nothing they could do to make her react – as she had done when she had frozen someone out
as a child
– but
the things they were doing were so degrading
and humiliating that she found that, as she was so blatantly shown that she now had absolutely no control over her body, she seemed to have even less control over her emotions.

Vowing to herself that she wouldn’t beg and then breaking that vow seconds later – which had already happened repeatedly – made things just that much worse.  As the violations of h
er person became much
more intrusive, the words just tumbled out of her
on their own accord, in a shrieking, plaintive tone she didn’t even recognize as her own.

“Ple
eeeaaase, stop!
  My father will pay you a lot of money if
you bring
me back to my family unharmed! 
A lot of money!  More than you can imagine! 
It’s only been a day or two – he’ll probably not even know that I’m gone yet! 
Just please – don’t!
”  She could feel the Count’s breath on the inside of her thighs as he leaned in
to examine her much more closely, his firm
, probing
fingers finding their way unerringly between those succulently plump lips of hers to the smaller ones that guarded the secret he had to know the answer to.   Cassie thought she was going to pass out from the embarrassment of what he was doing to her, and her cries rose in pitch and volume.  “
No
–
DON’T DO
THAT
!”

“Oh, yes, Cassie.  There’s nothing you can stop me from doing
this
,” Victor taunted cruelly, standing between her legs and watching her eyes
widen dramatically
as his fingers delved between those well hidden folds, only to be stopped almost immediately by the indisputable evidence of her virginity.
  “And I’m sure you’ll be interested to know that it’s been more than a month since that night at the ba
ll.  I would bet your father not
even knows
that you’ve been kidnapped
, but that the search for you is already over and done with.  No one will
be looking for you any
more.”

Cassie was devastated by what he’d said.  She couldn’t remember a thing that had happened since he had given h
er that glass of champagne, and then
she had come to here, in this room. 
It couldn’t possibly have been four weeks since then, could it?  And h
er father wouldn’t have given up so easily on finding her, would he?

As much as she wanted to dwell on what she’d just heard, she found she couldn’t in the face of what he was doing to her.  He drove all
coherent thou
ght from her mind, although
emotions
quickly
flooded in to fill the void – intense mortification, humiliation and embarrassment.

And
they were accompanied by
, she was to re
alize all too quickly, a sharp, sure, undeniable pleasure that only compounded her shame a thousand fold.

Victor desperately wanted to alleviate her of that tiny burden – and he was more than ready to do so right here and now – but he
managed to restrain himself – barely – as his rampant cock swelled
and
throbbed wildly against the constraints of his pants.

Instead, he said, “Get me the lavender oil,” to no one in particular, but
it appeared at his elbow nonetheless, and he dipped the index and middle fingers of his right hand into it, slathering them with the fragrant scent, then replacing them very close to where they had been, although up a bit until they landed directly on top of her clit.

It was, he acknowledge
d
, not in the least engorged, but that was only a matter
of time, in his experience.  As reluctant as they always were at first – and rightly so, he realized – he
– or his protégé -
had yet to fail to tame a woman through the judicious use of pleasure, humiliation, and pain.

Cassie’s wild, abortive attempts
at gyrating away from him,
her head whipping back and forth between her arms, her face covered in that
amazing mane of hers, stopped immediately as soon as he came back in contact with her, and he began to stroke very slowly over that bud, then, deliberately, in much more neutral places around it, teasing her
by only occasionally claiming that scrap of flesh to caress it slowly, expectantly, watching avidly for the signs of changes in her body that she couldn’t prevent.
  He was very pleasantly surprised to find
Such as the wet
ness that appeared relatively
quickly not far down from where his fingers were perched.  Victor dipped
his hand
down a bit, wetting his fingers again,
then bringing them back up to
fondle her again,
but this time more naturally, swirling just the ve
ry tips of his callused fingers, abrading her just a bit then moving them off to explore the very edges of her majora, skillfully increasing both the time he spent stroking
her and the time he spent ignoring her body’s growing interests in his pursuits, until he heard it.

A single moan –
that was unmistakably
not
a cry, not a wail, not a scream.  A moan – albeit a short one –
of pure, unadulterated pleasure, wrung from a woman he knew
was valiantly trying to resist the pleasure he was bringing to her.  Driving her past the ability to tamp that response down was the ultimate thrill, as far as he was concerned.

But
that w
as where he stopped,
having made his point,
backing away from her to stand by the door and watch the two women release her from her bonds.

“When you’re through, b
ring her to Block B, cell four,” he ordered.

Both of them turned to him, surprised
at his pronou
n
cement
, but they each nodded, also.  It did not pay to go against Count Salkov
, in any way, shape or form.

Through with what? Cassie wondered, then realized she might not want to know.

While she remained restrained, the women went to work removing her o
f every bit of body hair she owned,
except that which was on her head
by using some sort of strange, mint smelling paste.  Her underarms and arms, her
legs, and – to her intense mortification – even her mons and bottom hole were all completely hairless by the time they got through.  And she hadn’t even realized she
had
any hair aroun
d the last area they violated
.

Then they each drenched their hands in some sort of wonderful smelling lotion,
with
which
they proceeded to massage
every inch of her – again including the areas she least wanted them to.

The Count
didn’t accompany her to her new room, trusting the guards and Matushka, as well as her longtime comrade and assistant,
Lidiya
to get her there
.  They had more than enough experience to handle one spoiled young American girl.

And he was right.  When she was finally off the table and on her feet, the guards approached her before she could gain her balance and lifted her off her feet with an arm under each of her shoulders, carrying her down a maze of corridors as the rooms off them got smaller and smaller.  She was placed in the smallest of them all.  It was barely big enough for the crude cot that she wa
s deposited on, and there was only one
other
piece of
furniture in the
windowless room, a small, nondescript chair. 
Through the walls she could hear the misery of many other women, although
it sounded as if
their mournful
weeping was being muffled, somehow.