Bratva's Brat (Loftry University Playthings 2)

Chapter 7

Chelsea.

Sleep encrustsmy eyes as I force them open. I reach down to rub, forgetting Master Grigori chained me up. Shockingly though, my hands move with no issues. Sitting up, I look at my feet, elated to see that I'm unbound. The bed feels cold and empty without him in it, and I rub at my chest before I even realize what I'm doing. There's no way I'm going to sit here and pine for a man that did what he did to me last night. Pulling my legs up, I arch around to wrap my arms around my knees without disturbing his "offerings" too much.

Dried cum pulls at my skin as I maneuver into position, reminding me of not only last night - well, this morning - but the other night he came in and marked me in the dark. Why was he so insistent on this? I took his cum without a fuss when he jammed his cock down my throat as Mr. Ivan took my ass. Granted, I couldn't breathe enough to reject him, but that should count for something. Rage fills me as I seethe in the sheets. I want nothing more than to scrub myself clean again. Knowing him, if I do that, he'll probably just mark me all over again. Stupid men. so obsessed with being territorial.

I could understand cumming on me; he's done that before, but peeing on me? Who the fuck does that? Even growing up, my brother's never threatened to do that. My stomach in knots, I think through my feelings. He's so concerned with my revulsion to him that I never stopped to wonder why. Closing my eyes, I sigh and sit with the feeling of his come crusted to my body. Despite what my mom told me, it's not as revulsive as I thought it would be. She was so intent on making sure we were all "clean" and didn't do "nasty" stuff that she failed to actually teach us how to enjoy a man. Doubtful she had anything to teach us. God knows she and dad never showed affection around us. Shuddering, I reach over for my phone, willing away these intrusive thoughts, but it's not where I remembered it last.

Frantic, I look around, my gaze stopping when I spot a stuffed animal that certainly wasn't' there the night before. The bear I found last night is nowhere to be seen, and my heart drops just a touch. I know it wasn't mine, but it was something to snuggle with. There's no telling that this bird is even for me. Picking it up, careful to keep it away from the man taint on my body, I marvel at how soft it is. The bear was soft, but this feels almost like real fur. Looking down, I spot my phone and set the bird aside to grab it.

Dear, Lastachka. I trust you slept as well as I did. I took the bear away because it belonged to another submissive. I will not have my printsessa snuggling with someone else's cast-offs. Understand me. This is not an apology for last night. I will never apologize for making you mine in any way. You have my permission to get cleaned and go about your day. I let you sleep in, so you'll need to hustle to get everything done. I will not be joining you for meals today, just your training. 5:00 sharp.

My heart glows in my chest for a moment. Maybe he's not as bad as I made him out to be. What other Dominant has ever cared about giving me a stuffie or letting me sleep in? As I reach over to pull the bird over to me, I'm reminded by his cum just in time to pull it away as not to sully it. Until now, I was able to stay in my own head. I could shield out the worst of the emotions welling up inside of me. But with this small bit of kindness, something in me starts cracking. Placing it on the bed, I drag myself back to the shower. Has it only been this morning since I was in here? And yet, here I am again, washing more filth off of me.

Standing under the spray, I let more tears fall, comforted in knowing no one will ever see them. What is he doing to me? How can a man I barely know turn me inside out like this? I want to hate him. I want to revile him. But I can't. Try as I might - even with him pissing on me - I can't hate him. If I'm honest with myself, that's what makes me the most angry.

* * *

Glancing at my phone,I keep saying the days out loud, trying to keep it straight in my head. Each day is just like the last, the rote actions becoming second nature. Most mornings, I'm by myself at breakfast, only to do school work alone. Sometimes I'll see Master Grigori at lunch, but he remains silent and aloof, perched on his throne at the head of the table. He keeps me at my end, close enough that I can see him and sometimes smell him, but not close enough that we can really talk.

As far as I know, he doesn't share my bed anymore. Each night I clutch the soft bird to me, imagining him curled up behind me. I can almost feel his even breathing as I drift about, his strong arms curled about my middle. If he has slept with me, he hasn't left any evidence of it. The only thing that proves he was even there at all is that my shield is always off when I wake up. He puts it on me after fucking me during training, but it's never there when I wake up. If he's keeping his promise, it has to be him and not Mr. Ivan.

My tummy flutters at the thought of our training. To be fair, I thought he'd be breaking me down, molding me into some other type of submissive, someone he'd want more. Instead, I've been learning the weirdest things. It's like he's preparing me for high tea with the queen or something. If I have to navigate one more place setting, I might go hungry in protest. After "princess lessons," as I call them in my brain, He straps me to some contraption and beats me with varying intensity. Each day, I'm taking more and more.

While beating me or edging me, he keeps doing that tapping thing. It’s almost Pavlovian at this point. The moment his taps start coming, I feel myself dropping down into a haze where panic can’t touch me.

Pride swells as I slide my fingers across my ass, gliding against the lingering welts from his whip. Slowly but surely, he's morphing me into someone who can take pain - much more than I ever dreamed possible. In return, he's given me endless orgasms, but only in the training room. We feel so close then, so connected. After he's done and the shield slips into place, so does his. He's an impenetrable wall. Sighing, I make my way to the kitchen, anxious to see what Mr. Romero has prepared for this morning's feast.

On the way down, I bump into Master Grigori, my heart fluttering at the small contact. Instead of leaning into me, he gives me a stern frown and sets me right before slinking off down the opposite hall. What the hell is he doing that he can't even spend time with his prisoner. I make a move to follow him but find myself bombarded by teeth and fur. Sasha pushes her nose into my stomach, demanding pets. Unable to resist, I drop to my knees and wrap my arms around her slender neck, sighing deeply into her fur.

"Sasha, come."

She whines a bit, refusing to move from her spot. I drop my hands, so Master Grigori doesn't think I'm trying to hold her there and make her disobey. I even do shooing motions, anything to get her to go back to our master, but she just sits there, whining as she butts me with that large head of hers. If I'm being honest, I don't want her to leave. She's a part of Master Grigori, and even the smallest reminder of him might make this imprisonment more tolerable. It will be less lonely, that's for sure.

"Idi syuda, eto prikaz!"

I have no idea what any of that means, but Sasha's tail tucks in between her legs, her whining intensifying. She doesn't leave my side, though. In fact, she burrows deeper in me as if begging me to keep her. I glance up at Master Grigori, worried this will somehow be my fault. Instead of the scowl that typically graces his face, a soft smile lingers.

"All right, dog, I guess you've chosen." Giving me a final smirk, he walks down the hall towards the other Borzoi, who's waiting patiently for his master.

I chuckle and hug Sasha again. It seems we both have way more in common than I originally thought. My heart swells as she licks my face with enthusiasm. Maybe she will help keep me from feeling so alone.

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