Abuse of Power - Taken by the Karinovs (Dark BDSM Erotica) Read online

  Abuse of Power - Taken by the Karinovs

  (Dark BDSM Erotica)

  By Dan Bruce

  Copyright Dan Bruce, 2010

  Published by Firm Hand Books at Smashwords

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Please note: this is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is for sale to adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store the material where it cannot be accessed by minors.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  Please also note: this ebook is a modified version of Jack Brighton’s ‘Taken by the Vorinovs’ – with the author’s kind permission.

  Chapter 1

  “How was your meal, ladies? I hope everything was to your satisfaction.”

  Vicky Fullerton looked round to the man who had approached their table, stealthily like a cat before he pounced with his question. Her mild annoyance at the interruption was seamlessly disguised by the engaging smile she flashed. “It was lovely, Sergio, absolutely lovely,” Vicky replied. Her younger sister Natalie nodded in agreement.

  And Vicky meant it. The meal was fabulous – not haute cuisine, but fine local faire that was beautifully cooked and very tasty. Every aspect of the hotel was to her liking: it was clean and comfortable; homely in its mood but modern in its running; and the service was excellent, although Sergio could be a tad irritating at times, fussing over them the way he did – but it was nice to be spoiled and looked after so well. All in all, it was a brilliant place to stay – the whole holiday had turned out to be surprisingly good. Not something you might have expected of Mordavia!

  Mordavia?

  Yes, exactly! Mordavia!

  At first Vicky had balked at the idea. She had never heard of the country, but Natalie had insisted they go there for their hard earned holiday after slaving away in summer jobs during the university break. Vicky would have gone for something more mainstream, but younger sister Natalie was adamant – Mordavia was the place to go. Why spend their summer holiday doing the same as everyone else? Getting trashed in Ibiza or bronzed in St. Tropez, bumping into millions of other students backpacking around Europe. Goa was passé, full of geriatric hippies, and Thailand was so boring after that stupid bloody film: ‘The Beach’ indeed – hardly idyllic as it would be swarming with tourists all in search of paradise on earth. No – it had to be Mordavia: beautiful and unspoiled, exotic and apparently incredibly cheap. They could live like royalty for the three week break.

  “And where the heck is Mordavia anyway?” Vicky had asked when presented with this plan.

  “A plane ride away!” Natalie had answered dismissively with a flick of her hand and an angelic smile on her face that always won Vicky over. “We’re going. Trust me! We’ll have a brilliant time.”

  And she was right. It had turned out fabulously. They had spent the first few days in the capital, stunned by its old world charm that had somehow avoided the ravages of communism whilst Mordavia was part of the Eastern Bloc. Then they had moved o the countryside which proved beautiful and diverse, and where they were treated like visiting princesses – tourism hadn’t touched the remoter parts, and fair-skinned, blue-eyed blondes had never been seen before.

  What really topped things off was when Natalie managed to speak to the locals in their native tongue. They were so thrilled – there was nothing they wouldn’t do for the two glamorous creatures who had descended from another world. Being able to communicate had made all the difference. Natalie had a gift of being able to pick up new languages very quickly. She was studying Russian at university and Mordavian was similar. By the time they arrived she had mastered enough to easily get by.

  Now they had settled at the country’s main beach resort for a final week of sunbathing and relaxation. Having spent very little of their holiday money, they had checked in to The Golden Sands, the best hotel on the coast, where English was actually spoken and the food was surprisingly delicious.

  “Would you like some coffee, ladies, and a complimentary liqueur perhaps?” asked Sergio Markov, the hotel manager, who had taken a special interest in his two beautiful guests from Scotland.

  Vicky looked to her sister who was shaking her head. “No thank you, Sergio, we’ll take a stroll then retire to our room. I need a shower and an early night. Remember, we go sailing tomorrow.”

  “Of course - you need to be up early,” said Sergio with a wry smile. “I have arranged for your wake up call as you requested. It is unlikely that I will see you before you leave in the morning, so I will give you my good wishes for the day now.”

  With the same wry smile, Sergio left the sisters to finish their wine, forcing himself away from their delightful loveliness so as not to cause offence or appear like a love-struck puppy. He was a man, a Mordavian man, and had his dignity to consider. And Sergio’s dignity had already been grossly offended, which is never a good thing where Mordavian machismo is concerned.

  Sergio bristled at the recollection. He had offered to take them on a tour of the area in a car he’d arranged to hire at huge expense. He was an important person – a minor celebrity given his position, so they should have jumped at the chance. It was an honour to be invited by such a man as he – did they not realise this? Yet they had turned him down! The reason was irrelevant – the offence was crushing to his macho pride. Then they added to this devastating blow by telling him they needed an early wake up call for the following morning. Telling him, Sergio Markov! Treating the manager of the best hotel in the resort like some peasant who worked in the reception of a hostel!

  It had been galling – a hideous insult on top of the knock back he had suffered. No local woman would have dared approach him on such a trivial matter, but he had no option but to smile and take a note of their request. And as if that had not been enough, the reason for this call was so that they could spend the day sailing.

  Sailing indeed!

  This was another major blow. As a consequence of this ludicrous trip out to sea, the two delectable foreigners would not be sunning themselves on the beach wearing their skimpy little costumes that had caused such a stir, scandalising the local women and tormenting the local men - and Sergio would be denied his stolen moments spying on them through his binoculars.

  Once out of the restaurant, Sergio stormed into the staff room where a junior porter was having a sneaky cigarette. The manager cuffed the young lad around the ear and sent him out to reception with a hard kick up his backside, venting a little of his fury over the indignity he had suffered and the stolen moments he would miss as a result of this sailing trip.

  But those binocular assisted glimpses of the girls sunbathing on the beach were not the only stolen moments for Sergio Markov, and he would most definitely be seeing the Scots girls again before their sailing trip in the morning. He would be seeing them again very soon, as he had done on the previous two evenings.

  Less than an hour later, Sergio was stroking his blood engorged cock, his trousers were unbutt
oned, his belt was unbuckled, his trousers and his underpants were pulled down to his knees as he peered through one of the small holes that were drilled into the wall. There were three of them in the bedroom and another two in the open plan bathroom which was designed with voyeurism in mind.

  Sergio was sure he was the only person alive who knew of their existence – this throwback to the bad old days in Mordavia when watching people was an obsession. His father had managed the hotel before him and had been in the pay of the State Police. The main purpose had been to entrap foreigners or political dissidents who might indulge in a little extra-marital fun with a local whore. Now they were used solely for pleasure, and the pleasure was all Sergio’s.

  He always made sure this room was given to attractive young women, purely for this purpose. It didn’t stop him if they were with a man – Sergio enjoyed watching them get fucked, or what little he could discern of the action – Mordavian women having a preference for sex in the dark and a boring missionary position. He was much happier when they were alone however, or even better with another woman; then there would be no sex, but he could watch and fantasise about having them for himself. Usually it was local women – few foreigners ever came to Mordavia, but with the opening up of the country a trickle were now coming to stay. These two women were the first without men to guard them – the first young ones – and they were the most beautiful creatures Sergio had ever seen. This was the highlight of his voyeuristic life.

  Sergio had been waiting for them as soon as they returned to the hotel after their post dinner stroll. He had taken up position in the linen store which adjoined their room, and watched through the middle hole which afforded the best view. For ten minutes they had teased him by doing little other than chat, the younger one provocatively lying on the bed whilst the older sister sat in the armchair. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, the walls muffling their voices, and their accent when they spoke together was very unusual - a Glaswegian brogue making them almost unintelligible. But Sergio was sure they were talking about him - making fun of him. Wasn’t that always the way with western women – they had no respect for men. Whores – the lot of them.

  And these two young women, beautiful as they were, were tarnished with the same brush. Had not Sergio shown them kindness? Had he not ensured they had the best room in the hotel – all be it one where he could spy on them, but these cock-teasers were not to know that? Had he not specifically ordered the staff to look after their every need – the best service in the restaurant, the best food, complimentary drinks? Had he not offered to take them out on his day off and show them around the region in a car he was prepared to pay a fortune to hire?

  And they refused!

  Sluts!

  Whores!

  Disrespectful harlots!

  By God he would have his revenge!

  Like his father before him, Sergio was also in the pay of the State Police, and tomorrow a telephone call would be made that would teach those bitches a lesson.

  But that was for later, now he would enjoy his voyeurism, for some action was about to take place. The older one had got out of the chair and was getting undressed, intent on having her shower. Sergio watched as she removed the stylish top she had worn to dinner, which had shown off her golden tanned arms and shoulders to devastating effect. She removed it slowly, lingering over her action, using what to most people would appear like two hands, but in fact she used only one. The other hand was stroking her lovely flat stomach as it was teasingly revealed before moving on to her fabulous breasts which were astonishingly full and gloriously pert, and barely contained by her scandalously daring bra. The sheer material clung to her breasts and showed off very clearly the bulge of her perky nipples, which to Sergio looked disgracefully hard, confirming the fact that the woman was a slut and deserved everything that was coming to her.

  Then the strumpet pulled the top over her head, her slender arms reaching high into the air as if rousing from some sex induced sleep. She held this evocative pose for a ridiculous length of time. Sergio was sure the dirty cock-teaser knew what she was doing, knew that he was watching her and was tormenting him with the body she had so cruelly denied him the company of on his day off. And it was working! Sergio’s cock was throbbing in his hand and his heart was racing in his chest. God, how he wanted to fuck the bitch! Fuck her and bugger her and stuff her throat full of his dick as he emptied his balls into her stomach!

  Then things got even better for the linen room voyeur! Having at last discarded her top, the woman allowed her hand to casually dangle in front of her crotch, giving the impression that she was playing with her pussy. Sergio could scarcely believe it, the audacity of the slut to do such an act. Did she actually know he was spying on her? Surely not!

  Then Sergio realised what was happening: the whore was putting on a show for her younger sister who was watching on the bed in hysterics of laughter. The older one was educating her younger sibling in the art of cock-teasing. Sluts! How dare they refuse his advances when they were clearly whores in need of a hard cock, which Sergio most certainly had!

  Still, it was proving highly entertaining – the best night of voyeurism by far. Such a shame these illicit moments would come to an end, perhaps sooner than those bitches knew!

  Whatever, Sergio was in rapture. His eyes were now glued to this fabulous hussy who was putting on a performance out of the top drawer. He watched on as Vicky undid the zipper on the shorts she was wearing, slowly pulling the zip all the way down. Then she turned round so that her back was to her sister and she started to peel off her shorts. She inched them down, front first, then side, then back, resting them at her thighs so she could give her ass a quick rub. Sergio was in shock as the woman felt up her own bottom, and so excited that he almost blew out his load prematurely. His mind raced as he struggled to contain himself whilst revelling in a fantasy - how wonderful it would be if she were to bend over for him and he could fuck her up the ass. No local woman would ever allow for such a thing, but surely this whore would gladly spread her cheeks and take a length of Mordavian cock up her bum and have her Scottish guts drenched in his spunk.

  Sergio lost himself in that heavenly dream as he watched Vicky bend over and drop the shorts to her ankles, resting her hands on her knees with her beautiful ass jutting out right in front of her sister. She was wearing the skimpiest of undergarments - a thong that barely covered her pussy, held in place by strands of string-like material which wrapped round her waist and ran the length of her ass crack leaving her buttocks totally bare.

  And what buttocks they were! Sergio was in rapture as he gazed at the swell of her magnificent peachy ass cheeks. The enticing stance accentuated their curves and caused his cock to flood with blood and his piss slit to dribble with pre-cum.

  To round off the whorish performance, Vicky gave her sister a gentle sway of her ass then looked back at Natalie under her arm with a smile on her beautiful face. Her long golden hair fell luxuriously from her head and her golden tits hung perkily in her bra. Then she stepped out of the shorts and straightened herself with a stretch, showing off once again her incredible body as she laughed along with her sister, proud of her wanton display.

  Slut!

  Sluts!

  Whores, the pair of them – how dare they turn him down?

  Still giggling at her shameless exhibition, Vicky sashayed off to the bathroom and Sergio moved along the linen room to another spy-hole where he gazed upon her again. Without an audience, she unceremoniously removed her underwear, dropping the bra and thong on the floor. Sergio looked at her naked body in all its magnificence whilst he stroked his cock sensuously, forcing some restraint, desperately straining not to come, wanting to see more before he shot out his load. He would wait for the right moment, wait till she was in the shower – he knew her routine – the best was still to come.

  Vicky entered the open plan shower area and turned on the water. Sergio knew that it was tepid rather than hot – he had ordered it b
e kept that way whilst these women were staying. He didn’t want his view obscured by steam! Under a cascade of water, Vicky reached for her shower gel and started to lather her body, massaging her golden tanned flesh in a most provocative manner. Sergio watched on, gripped by lust, scanning her body all over as the woman sensuously rubbed herself. He delighted in her full youthful breasts which were gratuitously massaged, her hands leisurely caressing their impressive mass, lathering them with the rich suds of soap. He rejoiced in the hard coral coloured nipples, which she brazenly pinched and moaned in self-arousal – more confirmation that she was a complete and utter slut. Whore that she was, Sergio still revelled in her slender waist and beautiful flat stomach, and her full womanly hips with that fabulous ass to the rear. God, how Sergio loved the bitch’s golden coloured ass with its small triangle of dazzling white flesh which was the only part of her rear she immodestly kept covered on the beach, much to all the local men’s delight.

  But more than all this, Sergio was enthralled by her pussy which the slut had shaved so that not a single hair covered her sex. Never had he seen such a thing on a grown woman – Sergio had gone into shock when he noticed it on the first night, nothing had ever excited him so much. He wanted to lick it and he wanted to fuck it – he wanted with a passion to come inside it then screw her again in all manner of positions.

  But it wasn’t simply the delicious sight of her pussy and the fantasies it inspired that so enthralled Sergio Markov - it was what the woman did.

  Whore that she was - this western slut with the shaven pussy brazenly pleasured herself whilst in the shower! Two nights in a row she had played with her sex as water cascaded over her body. And glory of glories, her hand was going there again – she was going to masturbate in front of Sergio like a western porn star putting on a show.

  As Vicky had done on the previous two evenings in the shower, she slid her hand between her legs and cleaned her cunt. But she was doing more than cleaning it, Sergio knew that for sure. Soap covered the bald mound and fingers ran up and down her slit, opening and closing the labia lips as she lathered her sex. She lingered, her head thrown backwards, one hand returning to a breast to squeeze hard on her nipple whilst the other pleasured her cunt. Fingers probed into the depths, and forefinger and thumb toyed with her clit. She lingered over the action, her fingers going deeper and deeper, opening her sex so her pinkness was clearly shown and rubbing the petals of this fabulous flower as her excitement grew and grew. Soon she became more frantic, fucking herself with four of her fingers, her head thrashing around, her mouth panting out her passion as she brought herself nearer and nearer to climax.