My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3) Read online

  “Hey, Tom.” Derek muted the twenty-four hour news channel, leaning back in the chair to look out the picture window across the room, taking in the beautiful view of Manhattan below.

  Tom sighed loudly. “We got a problem going on here today. A big problem.”

  “Great. So let’s handle it.”

  “I wish it was that easy. How well did you know those employees at the Immigration Office?”

  Derek paused a moment, weighing how much would he share with his attorney. “Well, I didn’t really know them at all. My assistant knew them from past employment there. Why?”

  “Seems that you may have relied on people that weren’t worth their weight in shit.” The sound of shuffling of papers could be heard over the line. “Maxim Volkov produced all the legal documents required to be in the United States. Originals with the raised seal. He’s here legitimately — and has been here with a green card before.”

  Derek raked his hand through his hair. He’d prepared himself for it to fall apart, but not this damn quickly. He wanted her reputation sullied in the meantime. It wouldn’t matter if the story changed later on — the damage would’ve been done. Now, he’d have to let Mark take the fall of having poor contacts — and as a result be the defendant in the inevitable libel suit to come. “Son of a bitch! These employees gave their word. We trusted them.”

  “Did you trust them, or did you seek them out to destroy Ms. Turner?”

  Derek lowered his voice. “I don’t think I like what you’re insinuating, Tom.”

  “I’m not insinuating — I’m asking. It hasn’t been a secret at either Miller & Sons, or Turner Marketing — or in Manhattan, for that matter — that you two don’t get along. You’ve been enemies for a long time, so I’ll ask again: did you trust those employees? Or did you seek those employees out and use them for what you hoped would be her demise?”

  “They assured us that he had no legal documentation. We went forward with the information given to us by their employees.” Derek threw a pencil across the room at the wall.

  Damn him!

  He wouldn’t have his name ruined now because of these employees.

  “We’ll be in touch, Derek. I’ll contact Caroline’s attorneys and work out a plan. This may go sour for you — and we might end up having to fight a libel suit. Be prepared. The Gazette, more than likely, will come after you too. I’ll talk to you if not today, then tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be anxious to hear how this progresses. Thank you, Tom.”

  An hour later they were sitting in the office, sipping whiskey and waiting for the attorneys to call again. Mark had been in touch with the Immigration Office and it looked like the employees, with a little prodding — and assurance that they would not suffer retaliation — not only spoke up, but sang like fucking canaries. How did it fall apart this quickly? Not only would he not be receiving Turner Marketing on a silver platter, but he would more than likely face defamation of character suits from both Caroline and The Gazette. If he lost, he’d have to pay — dearly.

  As part owner of Miller & Sons, Derek wouldn’t lose his job — but more than likely Mark would lose his. He’d have to make sure that Mark was compensated handsomely to care for his family in the interim.

  Derek already had his marketing and sales people on this, trying to salvage his company’s name.

  But this had gone very poorly.

  “I don’t know where it went wrong, Derek. These are good employees. They were paid handsomely. It should’ve gone better than this. Without a hitch.” Mark shook his head, swirling the caramel-colored liquor in the glass.

  “You did your best. Damn that fucking bitch!” Derek couldn’t sit a moment longer — the adrenalin made it impossible. He had to pace. “I’ve been trying for years to conquer her. It’s like there’s a force field around her that I just cannot penetrate.”

  “I know, Derek. You’ve been at this for a while now. Maybe it’s just time to let it go?”

  The phone in Derek’s pocket rang. He pulled it out, hitting the speaker button and resting it on the coffee table.

  “Derek.”

  “Derek, it’s Tom. As I feared, this is becoming a mess quickly.” Derek drank down the rest of his whiskey in one swallow, walking over to refill the glass before sitting down again.

  “Those employees sang — loudly. You assholes paid them to say there were no documents?” Tom, normally an even keeled person who exhibited very little emotion, shouted. “What were you thinking?”

  “It would’ve worked if they hadn’t broken so quickly. That damn woman deserves everything she gets!” Derek was dizzy with anger. She’d made him look like a fool again!

  “Well, you’re going to pay for this, and pay for it handsomely. Caroline is suing you and The Gazette for defamation of character. I’m not sure what amount they’re asking for yet, but I suggest that we offer them an exorbitant sum with a stipulation that no one speaks about this. We’d have to hope that it gets swept under the carpet. I’m betting that they’ll slap a restraining order on you too. “

  “Christ!” Derek slammed his empty tumbler on the table.

  Tom mumbled something, then cleared his throat. “You have no one to blame but yourself. You need to cut loose this vendetta you have against her. Focus some of that damn energy on your own fucking business. You each need to do your own damn thing, and let the past be the past.”

  “I hear you, Tom, and I’m leaving it alone. Find out from her attorneys what they want, and then make them a reasonable offer. Once you’ve agreed on an amount, let me know and I’ll get the Board to approve it.”

  He didn’t even wait for Tom to say goodbye, hanging up before the man could say another word.

  Both men sat silently, deep in their own thoughts.

  This is a fine fucking mess. I’m doing just as Tom said. Time to focus on my business and leave the bitch to hers.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maxim had walked Jason to the door, wishing him a good evening. He didn’t need him to stay and it would make it easier for both he and Caroline to know they were alone for what would be taking place tonight.

  He walked to her liquor cabinet in the great room, pouring himself a shot of Jack as he looked out over Manhattan, at the bustle of people rushing to get home for dinner. Dusk was just settling into the sky, a light rain starting again. Spring in New York. It rained daily, and he loved nothing more than listening to the sound of it. He gulped the rest of his shot, knowing it would take the edge off. She would never know — or probably believe — that he worried before punishment sessions. The balance was delicate —harsh, but not abusive, stern, yet caring.

  She needed to know that he’d never tolerate her hurting herself. He’d be thrashing that lesson into her soft, pillowy bottom tonight and then comfort and talk, finding out the reasons for this insecurity.

  It made no sense to him that he’d become this close to her in such a short time — and unless he was wrong, she felt the same. He really liked having her in his life every day, and he wanted to see where this would take them both. When he’d walked in on her with her finger down her throat today, she’d scared the shit out of him. Just seeing her body retching, remembering her pained shouts, sent his heart racing all over again. He’d never felt himself so close to losing control.

  Keeping calm had never been an issue for him. Usually he just took things in stride, finding a solution and working toward that goal. But, this? This had thrown him for a loop. He’d found himself wanting to throttle her, spank her, shake her and just scream until the anger dissipated. Thankfully, he knew how to control that urge, but she’d still be sore from that hairbrush. It concerned him that he may have paddled her a little too hard or a little too long, but sitting tenderly on those bruises would remind her how seriously he took her safety and health.

  He took his shirt off, along with his socks and shoes. He needed his arms free of the restriction of clothing. Free to swing.

  Walking into the room, he spo
tted Caroline, her tall, curvy, fully naked body standing in a corner at the far side of the room, just as he’d requested. As far as he was concerned, that body was perfect, his anger threatening to rise to the surface again. He needed to take the time to understand where she was coming from with this. Something lurked behind this behavior.

  He closed the door, her back straightening at the snick of the latch. “Eyes stay forward. Back up one step.”

  She slowly moved her feet back, goose flesh rising on the surface of her still red bottom.

  “Nose against the wall.”

  Her gorgeous ass pushed out in that position, and he saw absolutely no reason not to give it more attention. He placed a feathery kiss to her neck, trailing a finger from the dip at the top of her spine slowly down to the top of her ass. Taking his time, he continued along the divide, pressing and poking her anus. Her gasps made him smile. He then pushed into that dark channel, to her quiet keening.

  “It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “As it should be. You broke rules today. Standing here with my finger in your bottom will remind you that you’re a bad girl.”

  She groaned, the embarrassment evident.

  He slowly traced the welts with his other hand, gently testing the already forming bruises. “This backside will hurt for a couple days. When you sit and you feel pain, you will remember to eat and take no pills, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “So agreeable. The defiant, misbehaving woman appears to have left with your white, unspanked bottom. All that is left is the good girl with a sore zadnitsa.” He pumped his finger a few times rough enough in her back hole to make her take a sharp breath.

  “This ass will take my cock tonight. You have prepared it with all your activities today and again, it will remind you that I’m in charge. You do as I say and you most definitely do not damage or hurt the body I love. This woman — this gorgeous woman — is mine. No one hurts her. Ever.”

  She looked over her shoulder with tears in her eyes. “You… you mean that?”

  “Yes. I will take your ass tonight.”

  “No. Not that. I mean the part about ‘this woman — this gorgeous woman.’ You really mean that?”

  She seemed genuinely confused. “Yes, of course, Lena. My God, how have men treated you? You are intelligent, gorgeous woman. Has no one said that to you?”

  “No. Not really. I mean I might get stupid men whistling on the street, but men can’t tell me that I’m beautiful in the workplace. Society has forbidden that behavior.” She shrugged. “And as for my social life, for the most part, men don’t seem to care.”

  “Americans. I am glad.” Her eyebrows furrowed at his words. “It means you had no choice but to wait until I came to New York.” He stroked his hand down her cheek and she nuzzled into it, closing her eyes.

  “I’m glad you found me, Mr. Volkov.”

  “Well, you may not say that in a half hour. I’m going to use my whip on your ass and you probably won’t be happy with me tonight — or tomorrow. But you will know that I’m falling in love with you, Lena. It may seem too soon to say such things, but you fit me like a glove.”

  “I’m sorry.” The tears tracked down her cheeks. “I made you angry, and now I’ve ruined our night.”

  “You are forgiven already. But the consequences are necessary. And our night is far from over. It isn’t ruined completely.”

  Maxim pulled his finger out of her, and went to get a new butt plug from his toy bag that he brought into the room with him, slipping the handcuffs and a remote into his pockets. He stood next to her. “We’ll put this in — it will prepare you for me and prevent you from clenching during your whipping.” He stepped up behind her, pulling her back another couple steps. “Bend over and pull both your cheeks apart.”

  “Oh, God, Maxim! I don’t—”

  “Nyet!” He pinched her still very red backside—hard. She jumped. “You need to stop arguing. We will start giving extras for defiance. How are extras given, Caro?”

  “W-with your belt, Sir.”

  “Do they hurt?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You said you don’t want to spread your ass for me. What you don’t want is to for me to do it for you. Cheeks apart.” He lubed the plug, and once she was exposed, he worked a dollop of lube into her, pushing in one and then two fingers, priming the tight ring of muscle there. He took the large plug, prodding until the tip slipped into her. “Push back, baby.” The muscles worked, milking it as he pressed against the resistance until it finally slipped into place, the sphincter tightening around the narrow neck.

  Not for the first time, he thought women just looked adorable with that flange sticking out between their cheeks. He’d have to make it the only dress requirement on some days, just so he could watch her walk that way and play with it whenever the whim took him.

  He tapped on the end, twisting it. “Just checking to see if it is secure.” In reality, there was no actual need to check it. The fluted end ensured the plug wasn’t going anywhere until he was ready. He just liked to twist it, poke it, and tap it, watching her gasp and twist in reaction.

  Control.

  The subtle message was: I can play with your pussy and ass whenever I want. Watch me.

  “Stand.”

  She slowly straightened her body, obviously trying not to jostle the toy inside her ass. What he did next was sure to surprise her.

  He reached into his pocket and pressed a button three times. The plug came to life, vibrating at an intermediate pulse. Her eyes widened, and she gasped, squeezing her thighs tightly.

  “Oh! Oh, shit!”

  “Don’t touch it. Only I am able to touch it, or play with it.”

  “Oooooo, Maxim!”

  “Yes, indeed. And you aren’t allowed to come tonight. No excuses.” He grabbed her elbow, walking her to one of the weight machines that had an overhead metal bar, pulling the handcuffs out of his pocket. He secured one handcuff to her, attaching the other to the bar.

  “This is to keep you safe, no? Your hands will stay out of danger, and it keeps you in place.” He dragged a straight-backed chair, over to her. “Kneel on this.”

  “Oh, God, this is like your video with Viktoria.”

  “Yes, I like doing it this way. You can still sway and wiggle, but only a little. Standing gives you too much ability to move. Come, Caro, kneel.”

  “Can you shut that thing off in my butt, please?”

  He contemplated it, but then decided that a lesson in not being control was what she needed to learn. “No. I like it being on.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed, climbing onto the chair. He raised the bar, stretching her higher. He retrieved a black, leather blindfold from his bag. “I’m going to cover your eyes. This way you don’t see anything to make you twist or stiffen. I need you unaware, and immobile.”

  He covered her eyes, checking that everything was secure and safe. “What is your safeword, Caro?”

  “I... I’ve never had one. No need. I just fantasize about this.”

  Maxim wasn’t surprised. “What would you like it to be?”

  “I’ll just go with ‘red.’ I don’t want to forget it.”

  “Smart girl. If you are scared or uncomfortable and aren’t sure, say ‘yellow.’ We’ll stop and talk, but go right back to it if all is well.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “This is punishment, Caro. Normally, there is no safeword for that, but we are new — and you need to trust me. You will be punished though. This cannot happen again.”

  “You said that the whip is used for… good girl spankings.”

  She appeared to be stalling, but she’d find that no amount of questions would stop this punishment. “I said they are usually used for good girl spankings, but they definitely can be used for bad girl ones too. I like to use other implements, because bad girls need spankings that last longer and make more of an impression — which my hand and your hairbrush both did
. Now, we will use the whip because it is similar to a switch. Only a few will be required, but the sting will last.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice small.

  He clicked the button on the remote, switching to another level on the plug. The new pattern was a long pulse, followed by two short pulses. He slid the end of the small whip against her flesh, watching her struggle. Her fists tightened, and she jerked her hips forward. Stiffening her body, she quivered, her thighs trembling. Her body went rigid and she shivered, pushing her ass out, slowly swiveling.

  He loved to watch a woman writhing in restraints. He pulled back, and with a slow and steady swing of his arm, let the tail of the whip hit the fleshiest part of her bottom. Hitting her harder on the first stroke had been purposeful, as it gave him an idea of how much pain she could tolerate. Her shout would be an indication of her limits later on.

  “Oh, shit! God!”

  “No swearing. Those are extras with the belt, remember?” Before she could answer, he swung the whip again, and she gasped. He struck again, her response a broken sob. Three distinct lines had risen upon the crest of her bottom.

  “You will eat the meals I give you, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir. I promise!” Her legs had a slight tremble to them.

  “You will not take pills. And I will be checking your trash at home and at work. Random checks.”

  She froze, never anticipating that he’d go to that extreme apparently to that level. Avery had helped her stop before, but must not have gone that far. “You will give me Avery’s phone number, so I can ask what she did when she helped you, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir. Avery will be… upset.”

  “She should be. You need to be ashamed of yourself, girlie. You worked hard to overcome this, to fall into it this easily says that you are only partially cured of this terrible illness.”

  She started to cry. He’d done it. Now the lesson would be more valuable to her.

  “We will work on this. You will learn to love your healthy body. There is no need to hate yourself, and until you can love yourself the way you need to, I will love you enough for both of us.”