Bratva's Brat (Loftry University Playthings 2)

Chapter 1

Chelsea

Searingpain lashes through my back, clouding my brain. My heart aches, but it’s not enough to drag my mind away from the fire racing up and down my torso. Professor Richards’ words were final and anguishing. Gripping the cuffs, I let the tears stream down my face and stain the polished wood.

Lucky for me, the pain is enough to allow such tears to go unnoticed. No one would question the woman getting flayed alive if her tears were for the pain of her breaking heart. Letting myself go, the wracking sobs finally escape my throat.

“Ahhhh, Lastachka, are those pretty tears for me?”

The cool, crisp voice of my new owner sounds at my ears. Glancing up, I stare into his eyes for a moment, noting the cold distance in them. I nod my head and turn back to the cross. He chuckles and slides his tongue up the shell of my ear. Shivering, I shove away the thoughts and feelings fluttering through me.

“I will need to teach you to be a better liar.”

Master Grigori fists my hair in his grasp and forces me to look at the closed doors. The pain blossoms again, and I command myself to tamp it down. Was I really so undesirable to be handed over to this man - this monster? I would have been the perfect submissive. He just didn’t give me the chance. Sneering, I dig my nails into the leather, pouring my hurt and frustration into my gip.

Tsking softly, Grigori runs his fingers through my hair, scrubbing my scalp for just a moment before gripping it in an agonizing fist. I squelch down the urge to whimper and whine at his handling. I know his type. It would only fuel his violence. Better to be stoic than egg him on.

“He’s not coming back for you, kukalka.” The voice is like hardened steel as he growls into my ear. “The sooner you realize that, the happier you will be.”

I stand there motionless. The only movement is the tears that I can’t stop shedding. They roll down my cheeks to meet the others soaking the wood beneath me. Small stings register in my peripheral as the salty liquid splashes on a whip lash here and there. Sighing, he runs his nose against my neck before craning my head back with his grip.

“I could flay you alive right here in front of all these people. Not one of them would stop me. You know why?”

He pauses, his hand reaching downwards. I strain my eyes to see what he’s doing, but at the angle he’s keeping me at, I can barely see past his shoulders. The snick of a knife popping out of its holder fills my ears, overriding the thunderous pulse in my head.

With a calm, steady hand, he puts the knife against my lips. The cool metal sears my delicate skin. I try not to tremble. I try not to let him know in any way that he’s having an effect on me. Letting go of my hair, he slides his palm across my ass and grips the tender flesh, still smarting from the whipping. I flinch and feel the knife sink just a touch into the top layer of my skin. Fuck.

“I own you, Lastachka. Not that pretty boy that slicks your thighs while you finger yourself to orgasm so you can get to sleep.” Removing the knife, he places it against the cheek opposite of him and turns my head with it until I’m looking at him once more. “You’ll do well to remember that.”

He pulls the knife away, and I breathe in relief. The flash of pain at my shoulder rips that breath right out of my lungs. I grit my teeth as he resumes his whipping. The loud crack and pop before the explosion of pain send me reeling.

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of this. If only Professor Richards saw how amazing I was and how great a submissive I would have been for him. Sniffling, I lean my head against the cross and force my mind to focus on something other than the pain.

My arms tremble with the effort it takes to keep from slumping down and putting even more pressure on my shoulders. The tears still flow in earnest, but now, they’re less about Professor Richards and more about the plight I find myself in. Master Grigori is a monster. There has to be some way to escape him.

Worrying my bottom lip, tasting the faint copper of the blood from the small cut, scenarios fly through my head. I dismiss them as swiftly as they come. The only place I’ll be free to work out a plan will be at the dorms. It’s difficult, but not impossible, to hide things from the cameras.

A smile curls across my lips as I force myself to endure the rest of this punishment. Though I’m not sure when or how yet, Master Grigori will regret choosing to claim me as his submissive. My teeth clench as blow after blow rains down on my body. As I get used to the rhythm, finally settling into the pain, he switches it up, bringing a sharp pain to the backs of my legs. Crying out, I grip the cross and force my brain back into nothingness. I can survive this. I must.

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