Someone Elses Daughter Read Free

left her, Sara rose from the bed and groped towards the door, intending to turn the light on again. However, the chain did not extend that far. They obviously intended her to remain in utter darkness. She groped for the bed and lay down. What have I done? OMG!
     

III
     
    Sara Smithson had never before properly explored the deeply submissive streak in her nature, except for a few spanking and cock-sucking forays with Professor Zeldov. For the rest, she had confined herself to fantasies and masturbation in the privacy of her bedroom. Strangely, as she lay on her bed in the pitch it didn’t seem so very different. Yet she was in Moscow, a world away from Ohio, and her wrists were cuffed together darkness with the links of the slender chain pooled on her belly. It seemed like just another fantastic fantasy, and she had butterflies in her pussy.
    Sara didn’t know how long she had lain there; she had no means of her telling. It must have been mid-morning or maybe noon when Georgy Nikitin had finally sated his lust and left her. When he had gone, she had waited for some time, utterly exhausted, and then she had groped her way to the shower cubicle about one metre away from the bed. Somehow she had managed to find and turn on the unfamiliar faucet and take a shower. The water had been shockingly cold but, nonetheless, it was good to wash away the grime and slime of two heavy fucks, and she then fumbled for the towel, dried herself, and returned shivering to her bed. After a while, as warmth returned, she had drifted into a fitful sleep, occasionally awakening frightened in the dark and then calming herself and drifting off again. Later she awoke and lay silent with her thoughts. In that sealed basement room, she could not even tell if there was still daylight outside. She simply lay there, naked and chained, and mulled over the totally unexpected and overwhelming events of the day. Borzov’s men held her passport; she had no her clothes and possessions there; in effect, she had volunteered to be their prisoner. Her belly was deliciously aflutter at the prospect of such a game of voluntary servitude.
    After some time, suddenly and without any warning, the room was flooded with bright light. She blinked and shielded her eyes with her cuffed wrists. The door opened and two men entered. They were young, younger than her, and they had the arrogant swagger of youth. She lay, as if transfixed, as they gazed down at her body.
    “So, this is Borzov’s latest bitch,” one of them said. He reached to grasp her chained wrists and hoisted them away from her breasts. “Sara Smithson. She’s American, Georgy said.”
    “Does she speak Russian?”
    “Yes, I do,” Sara said.
    The other man roughly smacked her across the upper thigh with the flat of his hand. “He wasn’t talking to you, cunt,” he said. “Only speak when you are spoken to.”
    The man who held her wrists yanked her them higher. “Kneel on the bed, spread your legs wide and keep your arms high above your head.”
    Sara hurried to comply, facing the two men. She kept her arms in position when the man relaxed his grip on her wrists, even when he whipped his fingers across her breasts.
    “Don’t look any of us in the face, ever,” he ordered. He waited until she had lowered her eyes. “Now, listen up. My name is Sasha, and this is Leo. We are your trainers. You’ll learn how it works here: first the Boss, then Georgy, and then Leo and me …your chain of command. Is that clear?”
    “Yes.”
    “You must address us and the other trainers as ‘sir’,” Leo said affably.
    “Yes, sir,” Sara said with a chuckle. Sir? Two Russian meathead kids fo u r o r five years younger than me? LOL.
    “Oh yeah, there are other trainers, supervising other bitches. And others in the Boss’s team too, answerable to us, taking our orders. See? You are at the very bottom. You take orders from everyone. You are everybody’s cunt.”
    “There are other women here,