Page 87 of Kings of Cruelty

“I only had…” I stop to think, then turn to Kotya. “How many did I have?”

Kotya starts counting on his fingers. “I had four. Five? You had… also four?” He goes to the liquor cabinet and picks up the bottle of vodka. “It was mostly full when we started, I think?”

The bottle is a lot closer to empty now.

“Did you waste all that vodka?” I ask. “We could have enjoyed it!”

Kotya laughs again. “We did enjoy it!”

“Sounds like the two of you enjoyed it a lot,” Sierra says dryly, but she smiles. “If that’s what it takes to get you both laughing, though, I guess I can’t complain too much.” She kisses me again before gesturing for Kotya to come closer.

He obliges, pressing up against her back while placing one hand on my shoulder. “Yura’s regime will include good vodka for all.”

“I’d demand good vodka after… you know,” she says, “but I don’t even like the taste. I don’t know how you stomach it.” She turns halfway to face Kotya, kissing him, too.

Heat spreads through me that has nothing to do with the drinks and everything to do with the sight of the two of them kissing.

I reach under Sierra’s shirt to stroke her belly—and for the first time, I notice that there’s a hint of swelling. She doesn’t have the same flat stomach she once did.

My cock instantly jumps to attention, and I groan.

She arches against Kotya, who has grabbed her hips. “Sure the two of you aren’t too drunk to get it up?” she taunts, smirking at me.

I grind my cock against her thigh. “Does that feel like I’m too soft? I’m one of the downtrodden masses! I am always ready to work!”

Kotya tugs on my hair. “Does that mean we are the bourjoosie who are taking advantage of the hard laborer?”

Sierra cracks up again. “You did not,” she wheezes between peals of laughter. “I didn’t know the two of you actually had a sense of humor.” She reaches down to grab my cock, though, squeezing tight. “I guess we are going to take advantage of thehardlaborer today, aren’t we, Kotya?”

“Oh, yes,” Kotya agrees with a wide grin. “If he’s the proletariat, we must make him do all the work.”

She moves her hand up, then deftly unfastens my jeans before sliding that hand into my underwear so she can grip me more tightly. “So I shouldn’t touch him and get him off before he has a chance to satisfy us?”

“He should show us how good of a worker he is,” Kotya agrees. “Get on your knees, Yura, and earn your wages.”

I groan and shake my head. “I won’t… I won’t bow down to your demands, filthy capitalist.”

Sierra buries her fingers in my hair and starts to urge me down onto my knees. “Do it, peasant,” she tells me, snickering. “You have a lot of work to do before you earn… well, pretty much nothing, but hey.”

I drop to the floor, wrapping my arms around Sierra’s waist and kissing her stomach. “The revolution will come,” I promise her.

Kotya laughs. “I hope so! If nobodycomes,you’re doing it wrong.”

Sierra rolls her eyes, but she keeps her fingers in my hair, stroking it instead of pulling on it.

She’s wearing a dress for once, which makes it easy to push out of the way and expose her lacy panties. I kiss her stomach, then gently pull her panties down, out of the way. I urge her to spread her legs, and she obliges me so I can easily reach up to finger her clit. She moans, then leans in to kiss Kotya.

Kotya keeps his arms around Sierra and thumbs her breasts through the dress. “He will show you how skilled he is. All those hours of practice.”

I lean in to lick the nub of her clit, and she shudders.

“Y-yeah,” she agrees. “But there’s two of us. We’d be terrible revolutionaries if we made him service only one of us.”

I want to argue that I’m the revolutionary, and she’s the capitalist, but the implication of what she’s saying sinks in.

She wants me to blow Kotya.

Kotya is silent for a few moments, before he says, “That is true. A real worker would work until the job is complete.”

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