CHAPTER7
Georg
I saw Briana realize, with a deep blush, that despite her ready mouth, I might still come not there but on her pretty face. I knew she had seen my moment of decision, and I hoped she had taken a little comfort from it. Maybe she could see that like a true daddy, the kind who cared about their bad girl, I liked to give treats when she asked for them nicely.
And Briana, so incredibly hot with that submissive pout on her face and the tears in the corners of her eyes from the discomfort of Garonov’s cock invading her anally, had definitely asked nicely for me to come in her mouth.
The moment when I had to decide where to shoot my load, and Briana saw me making up my mind, might tell her also that I felt it too: whatever they called the thing where you suddenly felt like another person simply fit together with you. I had read it in her face, and I had known—as illogical as it seemed—that she wanted my cock in her little bottom rather than Garonov’s.
I had thought wildly then of simply picking her up and running out the door. I might even have made it outside onto the tundra. Spec ops would have picked up the strange motion from my transponder and Briana’s sensor; if the weather cooperated they could have extracted us within an hour.
Utterly dooming the mission she and I shared without her knowing it, of taking out Garonov and saving countless lives in the countries still desperately trying to remain civilized in Northern Eurasia.
I didn’t think there was any way I could even actually tell her I was an undercover agent, at least in the next few hours—or more probably days.
I would get a rescue op going, when I went off duty from Garonov’s guard detail. One that didn’t jeopardize either of our missions. That op would take time to plan, though, I knew. In the meantime, I simply couldn’t risk Briana knowing; I had to hope she would see me as another henchman—one who unaccountably knew how to use the voice of authority.
That intricate calculation flashed through my mind in a microsecond, and it didn’t stand in the way of my arousal in the slightest. Nothing could do that. The sight in front of me aroused me too powerfully; the alpha rage that boiled in my chest at the brutal way Garonov fucked Briana’s ass… at the idiotic grin on Ivan’s face as he watched… they made my dirtiest daddy instincts kick in.
I took Briana’s head in my right hand as my left flashed faster and faster on my cock.
“Not in your mouth, sweetheart,” I told her in a growl. She gasped again at the word sweetheart, and again I felt that tug of affection, the instinctive liking I had for this bad girl, enhanced by the intuitive knowledge that she shared the feeling. “On your face, just like I said.”
The circumstances demanded that I keep the degrading promise, and I felt no compunction about it: I like the way a naughty girl looks with semen all over her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. I saw in Briana’s eyes that she understood, and in her red cheeks that she appreciated, the special effect that a facial from a daddy has.
That sight, and the thought of what she would look like, with my cum besmirching her pretty features and Garonov’s cock still pounding her poor little bottom, drove me over the edge into orgasm at last.
I grunted as the seed shot out, a jet of white onto the bridge of Briana’s nose, another onto her cheek. The pleasure coursed through my veins. In my peripheral vision I saw Garonov witness the humiliating moment, and then I heard him give a cry as his own climax came on.
Briana sobbed, her body tensing hard between her two new, rough daddies. I had known that the voice of authority could keep her from climaxing, but they hadn’t told me how unbelievably sexy the effect would be: watching the arousal, the unreleased need, rise and rise in her body made me wonder how the Lumberjacks got any work done when they could fuck Briana Tragner whenever they wanted.
* * *
Briana
Papa Georg’s seed felt hot on my nose and my cheek. I closed my eyes, but my body still obeyed his instructions: I had to open them again, and look at him. I whimpered at the strange conflict inside my mind, my heart, my body; familiar now from my service to my other daddies but also very different here with this new one.
The thing my Advanced Guidance daddies had told me, that the voice of authority couldn’t make me do anything I didn’t really, subconsciously want to do, never left my mind. If my daddies hadn’t informed me of the fact, in so many words, I would have figured it out, because of the way it felt when I looked into Papa Georg’s face and saw his satisfaction with the pleasure he had taken in my body… on my body.
My blush got even hotter, and part of me—even after all this time as a bad girl and a sexual servant—said no, you’re not a dirty little whore who gets facials and takes big cocks in your ass. But at the very same time a shudder of wanton need gripped me there, kneeling on the metal chair. It made me push out my backside so that I could show Papa Georg how good a girl I could be when a man fucked my bottom, how much I deserved a reward for letting my new papa do such a terrible thing.
I felt Papa Nicolai’s seed shooting into me and I tried to work my bottom to open it further, to ease the discomfort and to make him finish quicker. He kept his hands on my hips, though, and held himself in very deep, even as I felt his hardness begin to grow softer.
“Do you want to see this slut come?” Papa Georg asked, his eyes still locked on mine.
I swallowed hard. I tried desperately to figure out what I should do, to preserve the idea that the warlord had acquired an unwilling but obedient bed girl. All my instincts told me that I needed to make Papa Nicolai think he had in me an unlimited source of reluctantly submissive pleasure. It would involve abject humiliation and almost certainly pain as well, but the illusion had to be maintained.
The role of Papa Georg represented a wildcard, though, and I couldn’t seem to think it through in a coherent way. Did he know that his was the only voice of authority that actually worked on me? Surely the command not to come—I could hear it in my head, over and over, low and tender despite the coarse words… Remember, don’t come now, little whore—meant that he did know, and he meant to spare me the danger of giving myself away?
“I promise you it will be worth watching,” he said. Then, in the voice, “Close your eyes, sweetheart.”
Oh, my God… maybe he was on my side? The experience of the darkness on the inside of my eyelids seemed a relief so great that I let out a sob from deep in my chest.
“Put your hand between your legs,” said Papa Georg’s voice, in the low, commanding register. I did it instantly, thrust my right hand down there. “Play with your clit.”
“Nyet,” said Papa Nicolai, before I could start. I stopped, and only then did I realize that Papa Georg hadn’t used the voice of authority for the final command. Papa Nicolai continued, very slowly, in English. “I want to look in her eyes.”
Papa Georg chuckled. I whimpered as the warlord pulled his cock from my anus.
Papa Georg said in the voice, “Open them, Briana. You may come now.”
“Not until I say so,” added Papa Nicolai as I obeyed Papa Georg and lifted my gaze to see the warlord moving around to my front, his softening cock still looking terribly thick to me. The sight brought another little noise from my throat as I felt how sore he had left my bottom with his brutal fucking.
He had spoken in his version of the voice: I had to control myself as best I could.