46. Emily
46
EMILY
TWO DAYS LATER
The clap of thunder awakens me but I cling to the final remnants of sleep. The darkness outside of the window is oppressive from the thunderclouds that rumble outside of it.
Konstantin hasn’t returned to bed with me after what we’ve done in the dungeon.
For two days, I’ve stayed in bed, leaving it only to use the attached bathroom or accept the food that Ivica brings to me. All attempts at finding out what is happening beyond the bedroom door is met with nothing but stony silence.
It’s almost as if I’m being purposefully kept in the dark by everyone around me.
Not that it matters.
I heard enough through the door the other night to know that I will always be a prisoner here.
Hours after Alla and Konstantin had their argument, I finally found enough strength in my rubbery legs to make my way to the bathroom. I had stripped down to run the water at the hottest temperature possible.
Under the searing hot water, I washed away all traces of our furious coupling from my body.
To my own great shame, when the steam enveloped me inside of its warm embrace, I longed for Konstantin to come in and join me.
I prayed that he would walk in during that moment, open my legs, and use me the way he had in the dungeons below.
But when he never did, I reached between my legs, and brought myself to one whimpering climax after another.
I wished then that I could vanish into the steam, to change into something vast, merge with the millions of water molecules outside, and never return to my body.
Konstantin had embedded himself in my mind, my body, and my soul.
And nothing can wash him out.
The door creaks open, and I don’t look over. It’s probably just Ivica. But when I hear the heavy footstep, my heart starts racing with elation, and my pussy—shamefully—grows slick with want.
He’s back!
“Konstantin?” I murmur as I slowly sit up.
But the massive hand suddenly closing around my mouth is decidedly not Konstantin’s. The foul smell of cigarettes and alcohol stabs at my nose, and I feel a revulsion punch its way down into my stomach.
A fork of lightning briefly illuminates the world around me, and I see her materialize, like a demon taking shape in the night .
Alla.
I cling to the sheets desperately, but it’s no use. Rough hands rip them away to expose my body, and hold me down by my wrists and my ankles. Blinking, I realize that I am surrounded by Alla’s stone-faced bodyguards. Their hands burn against my skin as if they’re covered in acid, and the metallic tang of fear rushes through my mouth.
“My grandson has left,” she speaks from the darkness. “And he won’t be back for some time. Perhaps never, if this plan of his goes to shit like all of his other plans have.”
Dread snakes its way through my mouth, but I can’t speak, not with the hand holding my mouth shut.
“I warned you, didn’t I, little whore?” She leans down towards me and her cloudy eye is somehow more visible in the dark. “I warned you that I’ll remember the mockery you helped him make of this family. I warned you that I will make you hurt in ways you cannot possibly even begin to imagine.”
Dread turns into full blown panic and I thrash under the hands holding me down. But all it does is draw a ring of dark chuckles rising up around me.
I can feel their hungry lecherous gazes raking my body, and I can’t stop the tears flowing uselessly down my face in fear as I recall Alla’s strained words through the door.
Do you think they’ll carry her gently in their arms from the dungeons below when they’re done, and put her in a bed up here? Or do you think they’ll keep her down there for their amusement until they’ve had their fun?
Oh god… is she about to make her threat come true?
Alla leans in closer and I see something flash in her hand as another bolt of lightning zigzags across the sky.
“Oh, no, no, no, little whore,” she coos as she strokes my hair. “Until I am certain that a Siderov lives in your belly, I will keep my guards away from your tantalizing little cunt. But the instance I know …” She smiles as she lets the implications linger in the dark. “In the meantime, there are other ways to make you hurt. Ways that leave neither scars nor draw a single drop of blood.”
She brings her hand closer and that’s when I see what she’s holding in them.
Sewing needles.
Each one is filed down so impossibly sharp that they seem almost invisible, were it not for the way they glimmer each time from the lightning.
My hand is yanked up before her, and I shake my head against the hands keeping me immobilized in bed.
A shriek bubbles from the depth my gut, but never make it past the hand clamped around my mouth. My heart hammers like a piston against my ribcage while tears fill my eyes in anticipation of the pain.
Panicking, I beg her with my eyes to not do this.
But there’s no stopping her now.
“Poor na?ve little whore,” Alla whispers, her one good eye glinting in the night as she places the sharp tip of a needle in front of my finger. “Nobody is coming to save you.”
Then, she starts to push.