Page 13 of Embrace of the Russian Tiger

Maxim’s eyes darkened as they met mine, and for a moment, I saw something flicker there—something raw, something I wasn’t supposed to see. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the cold, controlled facade he always wore.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down my arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Are you scared or are you excited? My staff told me you asked for new batteries… I can only assume it’s for those toys I left you.”

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Because the truth was, I wasn’t scared. I should have been. I should have been terrified of the way he had me tied up, of the dominance in his voice, the control in his touch. But instead, I felt… anticipation.

And that scared me more than anything.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I whispered, though my voice shook with something else—something darker, deeper.

Maxim smirked, leaning closer until his breath ghosted over my neck. “You should be,” he said softly, his lips brushing against my skin. “You should be very afraid.”

His words struck a primal chord within me, awakening a hunger that pulsed through every fiber of my being. His touch ignited a fire within me that threatened to consume me whole, and I knew then that I was in too deep—that I had unleashed something within myself that I couldn’t control.

Without warning, Maxim’s took a long feather and started tracing it along the line of my hip, then down to the inner thigh. My muscles tensed against the restraints, but there was no escape from the electrifying sensation of the feather gliding over my skin, tracing every nerve ending. Despite the restraints holding me in place, I arched my back in an instinctual response to his feather tracing along my hip and down to my inner thigh.

“Do you like this?” he asked, his voice low, taunting. “Do you like to be punished?”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell him how much I hated him, how much I resented the control he had over me. But I couldn’t. My body had betrayed me, my mind spinning in a confusing mix of fear and desire, and the worst part was, he knew it.

Maxim’s fingers danced dangerously close to where I wanted him, but he pulled back just before he touched me. I let out an involuntary whimper, my hips lifting off the bed in a desperate attempt to chase the feather’s touch.

Suddenly, he took out a small whip and whipped me on my thigh. Not strong, but enough for me to feel. I squeaked. He chuckled softly, his hand resting on my thigh. “So eager,” he murmured. “You will learn patience, Anna. You will learn to obey me. I will untie you now, you will turn around, stand on your knees, spread your pussy with your hands and stand like that until I tell you to let go. Do you understand?”

I should have been humiliated by how much I wanted him, by how much my body was responding to his every word, his everytouch. But instead, I felt the heat between my legs had grown unbearable, and every brush of his fingers only made it worse.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I bit my lip, shame and desire warring inside me. As Maxim untied me, I was able to pay attention to what was inside the room. There were things here, I had never even heard of or saw. I had watched porn before this, but this was completely different. There was a wheel with restraints, there were whips, and paddles, and handcuffs, and so many toys. As I was turning around and getting on all fours, I heard Maxim open something up. Then I heard his voice: “Place your head on the pillow, arch your back up, place your butt higher than your back and spread your pussy with your fingers. Spread it wide, so I can see what is going on inside.”

At that moment, I felt shame for not feeling shame. For some reason, I was eager to do it. I wanted him to look inside of me. My pussy was dripping wet, and I could not wait to continue. I wanted to feel him inside of me, so bad. I was so fucked up, I started craving that feeling of a man owning me. I wanted him to own me.

He approached me from the front and said: “Look up.” I raised my head and saw him holding a paddle. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought for a brief moment he might spare me from punishment. But instead, he leaned down, and his lips brushed against my ear as he whispered, “I will punish you now. Do not let go of your pussy. This is an order.”

With those words, he circled around me and a shockwave coursed through my body as the first strike of the paddle landed on my skin. It stung, but the pleasure it brought was undeniable.

“This is your punishment,” he said softly, his hand trailing back up my body, pausing just below my breasts. “You will take what I give you, Anna. Nothing more.”

And then, without a warning, he brought the paddle down on my butt cheek with a sharp slap. I gasped, the sting of it sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my core. I shouldn’t have liked it. I shouldn’t have wanted more. But I did. And as he continued to unleash blow after blow upon me, I screamed. Not from pain; I screamed from ecstasy.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. I couldn’t deny it. Not anymore. The shame that had been simmering beneath the surface was overpowered by the pleasure that was coursing through me, making it impossible to think, impossible to fight.

Then he took out some toy and it started sucking on my clitoris. He was paddling me with one hand and manhandling me with a toy with the other. My mind was swirling. I couldn’t breathe anymore. I could only scream. I could sense my body tensing up. But as I was about to release what I could swear would be the best orgasm ever, he withdrew everything. Suddenly, there was silence in the room. My body was aching from pain and pleasure, but mostly from desire. I needed this. I needed to come.

Everything went quiet, and I heard Maxim’s deep voice as he said: “You will now stay in this position until I tell you to . I will leave you alone in the room, and at some point, I cannot tell you when, you will hear my voice through the intercom. And don’t you dare to change positions. I am watching you.”

Maxim came around and I was able to see his face. He smiled, with a cold, predatory smile. “You'll learn, Anna," he purred, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "You only get what I want you to receive. Including pleasure. Next time, you will obey my orders.” Then I heard his footsteps leaving, the sound of the door closing, and then there was nothing. Just me, naked on the bed with my pussy spread wide. Feeling like thebest candy in the world was just taken away from me.How dare he?! This asshole!

Time seemed to stretch on forever as I stayed in that humiliating position, feeling like nothing more than an object for his twisted desires. I started drifting away when I heard his voice: “Stay as you are, until I tell you otherwise. Be a good girl and next time, I will reward you.” Suddenly, I wanted to stay like that forever. I was not angry anymore. I was actually looking forward to my reward now.

For what felt like hours, I remained on my knees and arms, every inch of my body in agony as tears streamed down my face. But I refused to beg for mercy. He would never hear that from me. Just when I thought that this would never end, I heard: “Okay,lapochka, stop now.” As my body collapsed and a sense of relief overcame me, I realized that deep down, I couldn’t help but crave more - more pain, more pleasure, more of him.

CHAPTER 8

Isat in my office, the weight of everything pressing down on me like a vice around my chest. I stared blankly at the window, the city spread out in front of me, but my thoughts were miles away. Normally, I could compartmentalize my emotions—bury them deep enough so they wouldn’t affect me. But after the punishment I had given Anna, things were different. I had expected satisfaction, control, to solidify my dominance. But instead, I had felt… strange.

Weak.

I’d cut her punishment short, far too early. The moment I’d heard her soft gasps, seen the way she responded to me despite her defiance, something inside me had faltered. I hated that she could make me feel that way—question my control, my decisions. And since that night, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

It was pathetic. I had underestimated her, underestimated how much she could challenge my dominance. It was infuriating that one woman could make me question my control and decisions.

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