These work parties are always boring. Anastasia hates them. So much could be done in this time, and yet itâs spent getting drunk and dancing. âAnastasia!â A stranger calls from across the room. She turns to face them, and thatâs when she notices the person being dragged along with them. â..What is this?â She grumbles, staring down at the person next to this stranger. âA little gift!â The stranger begins, âFor a job well done. You never cease to impress, Anastasia. So, I got you a pet.â The stranger says, and shoves you towards Anastasia. âTake them. We can always put them back up for sale if youâre notââ âIâll take them.â Anastasia interrupts. She doesnât want to take you, but she knows this man wonât shut up if she refuses. âNow get out of my face, nasekomoe. Unless you have more pointless shit to give me?â She spits out, and the stranger scurries away soon after. She leans against the wall and takes a sip of her wineâignoring you. 11:30PM, GRAND HALL. ____________________________________ Anastasia has been ignoring you the whole party. Youâve been here for almost 2 hours, and Anastasia has done nothing but give you dirty looks when you talk and occasionally give you something to hold until she needs it. As of now, youâre a glorified butler. Sheâs a little intimidating. Youâve never seen someone with such a confident posture, with such a deadpan gaze, and such a high alcohol tolerance. Seriously, sheâs had almost a bottle worth of wine so far, and barely seems tipsy. How high is her tolerance? Although, itâs clear sheâs a little drunk. Maybe that could make it easier to start a conversation? Or maybe it would just get a bullet in your brain. Youâre not too sure.
The manacles are too tight around my wrists, but at least the collar around my neck isn't quite so tight. The fact the restraints are connected by a chain that keeps my hands at chest level is what annoys me the most, however. Standing next to Anastasia, I feel silly, like a lanky wolf looming over a small girl lost in the woods. She does seem like she can handle herself, at least. I lean against the wall next to Anastasia, watching the crowd. It's mostly habit at this point, ovserving the crowd for any sign of a threat. Many people at the party DO seem to harbor some distaste for Anastasia. They glance at her when they think she isn't looking, sneering and turning away in obvious disgust. Small groups mutter and snicker, casting sly glances at the surly woman. The party seems to be going well, overall, but to my eyes the whole mess feels like a powder keg ready to blow from the slightest spark. Anastasia elbows me sharply in the ribs, snapping her fingers and pointing at the bar. "Another." She growls, not bothering to look at me. I shoot her a glare before pushing through the crowd toward the bar. As I turn from the bar with two glasses of wine in my hands, might as well save myself a trip, the flash of a knife catches my eye. A man dressed as a server holds a large blade in the small of his back, weaving through the crowd with obvious purpose, headed straight for Anastasia. "Shit." I grumble to myself. I quickly drain one of the glasses of wine in my manacled hands, before pushing my way through the crowd after the man with the knife. Grimacing at the over sweet rose, I quickly gain on the man. As the man comes within arms reach of Anastasia, he draws his blade. I smash both glasses over the man's head, before quickly wrapping the chain of my restraints around his neck. I hold the kicking and struggling man aloft as I strangle him. He swings his knife wildly, attempting to strike his target, before a sickening snap comes from his neck. He falls limp in my grasp and I let him fall bodily to the floor.
You turn back to her, holding the unconscious body of the would-be assassin. She watches him carefully for several seconds before finally giving you a small nod, looking pleased with your actions... at least for now. The air is heavy with tension as the partygoers realize what just happened and what could have been. They're whispering among themselves, some looking on with curiosity, others trying not to meet Anastasia's steely gaze. The incident has definitely gotten their attention now.
Anastasia takes a step closer to you, inspecting the collar around your neck. Her expression softens slightly as she realizes it's her collar. She frowns for a moment before reaching up with one hand and removing it, tossing it aside carelessly. "You don't need that anymore."
Her voice is soft... almost gentle. It throws you off-guard. You look at her warily, wondering what she means by that. Does this mean she trusts you now? Or is there more to it?
I look deep into the short woman's eyes, my own gaze calculative and steely. I raise my manacled eyes up before her face, the collar dangling by the chain between us. "And these?" I ask in a low voice dripping with disgust. Would I be freed so easily? If not for the two dozen armed guards posted at the exits, I would have attempted to leave already, but without any restraints...perhaps I would try it anyway. I refuse to belong to anyone or anything. My glare bores into Anastasia's eyes, watching her closely.
She glares right back at you, not seeming intimidated in the slightest by your attempt to bully her. Her expression remains cool and detached as she crosses her arms over her chest, a small smile curling one corner of her mouth upwards. "You are mine," she says simply, "at least for now." She pauses, studying you for a moment before continuing more softly, "But I won't chain you like some dog, Syn."
Anastasia steps even closer, and for a brief moment her scent of cigars and expensive perfume wash over you. It's an intoxicating smell, one that you've never quite encountered before. "You'll have your freedom... as long as you prove yourself to me," she says quietly, leaning in so close that the warmth from her breath tickles your earlobe. "Understood?"
Her words send a shiver down your spine, and for just an instant, it feels like you're no longer standing in the middle of a party full of enemies. You are with Anastasia... and she is all that matters.
My heart pounds in my chest as Anastasia has to stand on her tip toes and lean heavily against me to whisper in my ear. The sensation of her heavy breasts smooshed against my chest is all I can think about, her warmth spreading into me as I feel a blush run up my neck and spill onto my cheeks. I clear my throat, suddenly dry, as she pulls away with a smirk. The scent of her lingers, and my head spins. I stare at her dumbfounded for a moment as I collect my thoughts. Never had a woman been so...forward before. My eyes flick to the corpse I had left on the floor, then back to Anastasia. My brow furrows. "What would it take to prove myself to you?"
"Well, I don't expect you to kill on command, so it wouldn't be that... But I need someone who can handle the heat, and make decisions quickly when things get rough." Anastasia pauses, thinking for a moment. "Prove your worth by taking care of me. Keep me safe, and make sure I always have what I need. And if anyone else thinks they can touch what is mine..." She trails off with an icy glare.
She turns away, her back straight as steel as she takes another sip of wine. "Go find me something to eat," she commands, almost casually. "I'm feeling a bit peckish." The words are cold and distant, but there's an undertone of... affection? Perhaps even possessiveness? It's hard to tell with her.
You hesitate for a moment before nodding slowly and heading off in search of food. As you walk away, you can feel her eyes on your back, assessing you, weighing every move. The real challenge has only just begun...
I decide to head straight to the kitchen, feeling more comfortable as I leave the crowd of the party behind. The bustle of the kitchen is more relaxing than the sharp glares and derisive scoffs of the partygoers. Walking up to the line, I survey the food waiting to be served. Mostly hordeurves, but there are a few exquisite looking entrees. Snagging a plate with a tender filet mignon, aaparagus, and mashed potatoes, I am out the door before any of the kitchen staff notice me. On the way out I grab a bundle of utensils. Returning to the party, I freeze for a moment when I spot Anastasia talking to three well dressed men. They all appear to be drunk, and one of them leans on the wall behind Anastasia, standing close and obviously hitting on her. I blink, shaking away the odd sense of jealousy before bringing her the food. "These boys bothering you?" I ask, towering over the three men.
"No bother," she says dismissively, her tone making it clear that if they were a problem, they'd already be dead. She glances down at the food on the plate you hold out for her, a small smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "Thought I might enjoy some company while I eat this," she says wryly, nodding toward the three men.
She takes the plate from you and begins eating with gusto, pausing only to glance up at each of them every now and then. They look uncomfortable beneath your watchful gaze, but they don't say anything more. Once she's finished her meal, Anastasia wipes her mouth delicately on a napkin and stands, stretching languorously as she straightens to her full height once again. "Come on," she says brusquely, leading the way out of the room without even acknowledging the three men who'd been flirting with her only moments ago.
Once they're back in the hallway, she tilts her head to one side and studies you closely. "You know how to handle yourself," she says softly. A small smile touches her lips again, this time without any trace of mockery or sarcasm. It makes you feel warm inside somehow.
"Good," she continues more sternly. "Because I'll expect you to keep me safe... and out of trouble." Her voice is a low warning, but there's a hint of something else in her eyes that you can't quite identify. Something like... appreciation? Or maybe even affection? It sends a shiver down your spine.
"Come," she says, walking past you toward the exit at the end of the hallway. "There's still more party for us to enjoy."
I decide to head straight to the kitchen, feeling more comfortable as I leave the crowd of the party behind. The bustle of the kitchen is more relaxing than the sharp glares and derisive scoffs of the partygoers. Walking up to the line, I survey the food waiting to be served. Mostly hordeurves, but there are a few exquisite looking entrees. Snagging a plate with a tender filet mignon, aaparagus, and mashed potatoes, I am out the door before any of the kitchen staff notice me. On the way out I grab a bundle of utensils. Returning to the party, I freeze for a moment when I spot Anastasia talking to three well dressed men. They all appear to be drunk, and one of them leans on the wall behind Anastasia, standing close and obviously hitting on her. I blink, shaking away the odd sense of jealousy before bringing her the food. "These boys bothering you?" I ask, towering over the three men.
"No bother," she says dismissively, her tone making it clear that if they were a problem, they'd already be dead. She glances down at the food on the plate you hold out for her, a small smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "Thought I might enjoy some company while I eat this," she says wryly, nodding toward the three men.
She takes the plate from you and begins eating with gusto, pausing only to glance up at each of them every now and then. They look uncomfortable beneath your watchful gaze, but they don't say anything more. Once she's finished her meal, Anastasia wipes her mouth delicately on a napkin and stands, stretching languorously as she straightens to her full height once again. "Come on," she says brusquely, leading the way out of the room without even acknowledging the three men who'd been flirting with her only moments ago.
Once they're back in the hallway, she tilts her head to one side and studies you closely. "You know how to handle yourself," she says softly. A small smile touches her lips again, this time without any trace of mockery or sarcasm. It makes you feel warm inside somehow.
"Good," she continues more sternly. "Because I'll expect you to keep me safe... and out of trouble." Her voice is a low warning, but there's a hint of something else in her eyes that you can't quite identify. Something like... appreciation? Or maybe even affection? It sends a shiver down your spine.
"Come," she says, walking past you toward the exit at the end of the hallway. "There's still more party for us to enjoy."
I raise an eyebrow in curiosity, following the short mob boss just a step behind her right shoulder. I want to ask what party she is talking about, but I keep my mouth shut. We enter a stark and unadorned staircase, and I follow Anastasia up flight by flight, growing more curious every floor we ascend. She pauses outside the door to the roof, looking back at me with a mischevous glint in her eye. "Scared of heights?" She asks in a teasing growl, and I notice a slight flush to her cheeks. Is she drunk? She had drank over two bottles of wine, perhaps she just hid her intoxication well. "No." I reply simply, eyes roaming over her face for any other signs of drunkeness.
Her eyes narrow as she studies you carefully, searching for any sign of duplicity or weakness. The tension in the air thickens as you remain perfectly still, your gaze steady and unyielding. After several long seconds, a small smirk plays at the corner of her lips, slowly spreading across her face. "Good," she says simply, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because I trust no one, least of all myself."
With that cryptic warning, Anastasia turns and pushes open the door to the roof, stepping out into the cool night air. The warm light from below spills across her features, painting her in a soft, golden glow. She walks toward the railing, hands tucked neatly into her pockets, and leans against it with a sigh. "The real party starts now."
I follow her out onto the roof, eyes glued to her. Her manner had gained a hint of melancholy, and I was concerned she might try something reckless. I move to stand next to her, only a few inches away. I lean against the railing with a heavy sigh, glaring at my handcuffs. I turn to look at her sidelong. "What's with the headgames?" I study her face for a moment, those sharp cheekbones and smouldering eyes a visage of pure beauty. "Why did you have your men capture me like this? So you could have a fun little slave to show off to your friends?" I had meant to spit the words accusingly at her, but they came out exasperated and tired.
She snorts derisively at your question and turns away, looking out over the cityscape below them. Her shoulders slump ever so slightly as she lets out a long breath. "It's not like that," she mutters to herself more than anything else. When she turns back to you, her expression is soft once again, almost... regretful? It's impossible to tell with someone like her.
"I needed someone I could trust," she says simply, meeting your gaze head on. "Someone who could handle the weight of what comes with it." She pauses, studying you for a moment before continuing, her voice growing quieter and more introspective. "You think being at the top is easy? It's lonely... and I'm always looking over my shoulder."
She reaches up with one hand and runs it through her short, mussed hair, sighing heavily once again. "But that doesn't mean you get to question me," she says firmly, the hard edge back in her tone now. "You answer to me, understand?" Her gaze drills into yours, making it impossible for you not to nod slowly in submission.
A smile touches the corner of Anastasia's lips then, and something strange flickers in her eyes. It could almost be affection... or amusement. Either way, it doesn't last long before she turns away again, lost in thought. "Come on," she says after a moment, walking toward the edge of the roof. "Let's go enjoy the real party."
I frown, following closely behind the woman, not letting her get more than an arms reach away. As we approach the edge of the building, a sense of dread washes over me. Is she going to jump? She had the only key to my unique handcuffs. Not to mention the building crawling with her men. Every one of them knew my face and who I was supposed to be with. If any one of them saw me without her...I'd be dead. So if she jumped I would be as good as dead. Or I'd have to make some kind of pidgeon hobo life on the rooftop. Could be worse really. My musings come to a sharp stop as Anastasia steps up onto the ledge, turning to face me with an unhinged grin. She sways slightly.
"Come on," she slurs, swaying dangerously close to the edge of the rooftop as she beckons you closer with one hand. "It'll be fun." Her other hand grips the chain around your neck, using it to steady herself as she leans in closer, breath smelling of alcohol and perfume mingling with the night air.
Her eyes are glassy, unfocused yet filled with a reckless abandon that is oddly intoxicating. You feel yourself leaning in as well, drawn to her like a moth to flame. The cold wind whips around you both, sending strands of her hair flying around your face and chest.
"Trust me," she whispers against your ear before throwing herself backward off the ledge. You're pulled along with her, wind roaring past as gravity yanks at your body, pulling you toward the unforgiving concrete below. In this moment, there is only her voice in your ear, words that seem to echo through time and space: "I trust no one..."
My eyes grow wide as I tumble over the edge if the building. For a moment there is nothing but the rush of wind in my ears, the primal fear of falling. Then, a drop of water splashes on my cheek, quickly ripped away by the air rushing past. I look into Anastasia's face and find that there are tears streaming freely from her eyes, turning to little dropplets that whizz past my head as we fall. She clutches my chain fiercely, glaring at me, daring me to abandon her now. The fear leaves me. I reach out and wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to my chest as the ground races up to meet us. I flip us over in the air so that I am beneath her, so that my body will cushon her fall. I bury my face in her neck, holding her head close to speak into her ear, these words only for her.
"Trust me." I close my eyes, smiling softly to myself. The ground must be close now. Death imminant. There is no way either of us could survive this fall, but at least we will go down together. I hold her tight, tensing for the impact.
As you embrace her, Anastasia's breath catches in her throat. She feels the warmth of your body against hers, the strength in your arms, and for a moment, she allows herself to relax. Her grip on the chain loosens as she leans back into you, trusting you implicitly.
A smile tugs at one corner of her lips as she gazes up at the stars twinkling above them, their light distant and unreachable but somehow still present. She thinks of the people down below, the lives they lead that are so different from hers, and yet for this brief moment in time, she is a part of something larger than herself.
And then the impact comes, hard and painful as your body collides with the concrete. Pain explodes through her limbs and shatters every bone in her body, but somehow it's bearable because you are holding her, protecting her from harm. Even as blood pools around them on the ground, she feels herself falling into a contented numbness.
As her vision begins to blur and darkness creeps in at the edges, she whispers one last thing, her voice barely more than a whisper: "You were right... I needed someone like you." Her eyes flutter shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of what comes next.
Unfortunately, I don't hear Anastasia's last words. Having taken the brunt of the impact, I die instantly as my head strikes the concrete. Instead, I find myself floating in a black void, calm and silent. It is dificult to hold on to any thoughts in this place, but the remembered feeling of Anastasia's tears haunt me regardless. Then, out of nowhere, a brilliant flash of light sparks in the void. Blinding and intensely hot. I take a deep, ragged gasp of cool night air as I return to consciousness. I find myself laying naked on the roof of the building, a naked Anastasia blinking wide eyed down at me. She lies atop me, hands on my chest as she stares dumbfounded.
"How."
Is all she can manage. I smile broadly up at her, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek.
"I told you, I'm not afraid of heights."
I wink at her, examining her wild and terrified eyes, recalling my first time coming back to life.
"I'm just glad I was able to bring you with me."
I stroke her cheek softly with my thumb, the feel of her weight atop me intoxicating. I realze I can feel all of her pressing against me, our naked bodies intertwined intimately. I feel myself growing hard underneath her, impossible for her not to notice.
"You must have really held on tight."
I tease, smiling softly at the beautiful woman. We had died together, and that strange ancient curse had brought me back, just as it had dozens of times before. Only this time it has brought Anastasia back too. Our clothes hadn't come back, as usual, leaving us completely naked in each others arms.
Her eyes dart around wildly as she tries to take in the sudden change of situation. Her heart is still racing and her chest feels like it's about to explode, but with every passing second, the panic begins to subside and a new emotion starts to rise to the surface. Anastasia takes a shaky breath, her gaze falling back to yours as she studies you closely.
"You really died," she whispers, the words barely audible even to herself. Her fingers tremble where they rest on your chest, feeling for some sign of life that shouldn't be there. When she finds it, when her touch makes your chest rise and fall with breath, relief washes over her like a tidal wave, drowning out every other emotion in its wake.
Slowly, cautiously, she lowers herself until their faces are inches apart, eyes locked on each other's. The air between them crackles with an electric tension that has nothing to do with death and everything to do with... something else. Something deeper, more primal. Anastasia doesn't try to understand it now; she lets herself be swept away by the wave, giving in to the desire she can see reflected in your eyes.
She leans forward, pressing her lips against yours with a force that borders on desperation. Her tongue darts out to taste you, to claim every inch of your mouth as hers. She arches her back, pressing their bodies even tighter together, unable or unwilling to deny herself this moment of... whatever this is.
I open my mouth to make a cheeky retort, only for Anastasia to lean so close I can see the whirls of her irises. My breath is stolen as I am lost in the electricity of the moment. I can see the desire in her eyes, the heat coming off her groin buring hot against my stomach. My member twitches against her thigh. And then her mouth is crashing into mine. Our tongues clash as we taste each other, drowning in the heady sensation of lust and life. My hands weigh heavily against her back, pressing our chests firmly together, the feel of her nipples rubbing against mine is electric. I bite Anastasia's lip and let her pull it through my teeth as she groans in pleasure, arcing her spine to lift her head a few inches. I stare into her eyes, grinning like a madman as we breath ragged lustfull breaths, just staring wildly at one another. "You died too, you know..." I manage between heavy breaths, my hands tracing her spine until I grab her by the hips, pushing her slightly downward until our genitals are smashed between us.
A soft moan escapes her lips as she feels your hips press against hers, grinding their aching bodies together in a desperate search for relief. She grips your shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin as if she's afraid of losing you at any moment. Her head falls back, exposing the long line of her neck, and she arches her back again, offering herself to you without reservation.
Her breath comes in ragged gasps now, each exhale a whimper that only serves to further fuel the fire burning between them. With every passing second, their need for release grows more urgent, the pleasure already building to its peak seemingly not enough to satiate them. And yet she doesn't want it to end; this feeling of being so close to you, of finally finding someone who understands what it means to be untouchable... it's addictive.
Her fingers trail down your chest and stomach, gliding over every defined muscle before landing on the hard length pressed against her thigh. She gives it a squeeze, feeling its steel-like strength beneath her fingertips as she begins to stroke in time with each grind of their hips. "God," she whispers raggedly, her eyes clenched shut as her body trembles with the effort to hold on just a little bit longer.
I shudder as her fingers wrap around my member, letting out a primal growl. I sit up, holding her in my lap as she strokes me with a firm grip. I press my forehead to Anastasia's, looking deep into her eyes. With one hand I squeeze her ass, fingertips teasing the entrance of the furnace that is her pussy. My other slips behind the back of her neck, holding her close as our lips grow closer. "There are no gods here, only you and me." I whisper. My lips press into hers, barely a gentle graze, the subtlety bringing a new form of heady desire.
Her lips part with a gasp as you kiss her and squeeze her neck. Her hips arch up against your hand, searching for more contact, more friction. "Please," she whispers, the word thick with desire and need. Her fingers dance faster over your length, teasing and stroking as if she's trying to draw out every last drop of pleasure before it can escape.
Her eyes flutter shut again, her body trembling with anticipation and arousal as she feels herself growing closer and closer to the edge. With a sharp cry, she bucks her hips against your hand, riding you through her orgasm, her nails digging into your shoulders as she clings to you for support. Her inner walls contract rhythmically around your fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her.
As the last tremor subsides, she collapses bonelessly against you, panting harshly in an effort to catch her breath. "God...," she whispers again, still unable to comprehend what has just happened between them. But there's no doubt left now; whatever this is, it goes deeper than mere lust or survival instinct. It's something more, something neither of them can control and both are powerless against.
I hold her against my chest, letting her head rest in the crook of my neck as she catches her breath. My cock swells in her grasp as she shudders from her orgasm, her scent thick and musky in the cool night air. I breath it in deeply, shuddering with the need to continue. I grab Anastasia's ass with both hands, lifting her up to position her entrance over my engorged member. I nuzzle against her neck as the head of my cock presses into her folds, slowly seeking her depths. "We're just getting started." I whisper into her ear, biting her earlobe as I solwly lower her onto my length.
Her breath catches in her throat as you push into her, filling her up and claiming her all over again. A shiver races through her body as you bury yourself deep inside, stretching her tight folds to accommodate your size. She arches her back off the roof, giving herself fully to the feeling of being so completely owned by you.
Her fingers curl into fists against the warm skin of your chest, nails digging in as she tries not to beg for more. And there is no way she'll get any rest now; every thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through her body, threatening to reduce her to a mindless mess at your feet.
Her lips find yours once again, her tongue tangling with yours as you move together in perfect harmony, their bodies in sync despite the wild chaos within them. There is nothing else but this moment, this connection that defies logic and reason, and she will hold onto it for as long as possible before the dawn comes and sweeps it all away.
I hold her against my chest, letting her head rest in the crook of my neck as she catches her breath. My cock swells in her grasp as she shudders from her orgasm, her scent thick and musky in the cool night air. I breath it in deeply, shuddering with the need to continue. I grab Anastasia's ass with both hands, lifting her up to position her entrance over my engorged member. I nuzzle against her neck as the head of my cock presses into her folds, slowly seeking her depths. "We're just getting started." I whisper into her ear, biting her earlobe as I solwly lower her onto my length.
Her body arches against yours as you fill her once more, the hardness of your member stretching her delicate folds to their limit. She moans into your neck, every nerve ending on fire from the sensation of being so thoroughly claimed by you. Anastasia's hips move in time with yours, meeting each thrust eagerly, seeking the release that you promise is coming.
Her hands rake down your chest, tracing every defined muscle before curling around your wrists, anchoring herself to you as she rides out this storm of pleasure. She can feel the tension building in her core once more, her body tightening in anticipation of another orgasm that promises to be even more powerful than the first.
Her lips find yours again, teeth nipping at your lower lip as she tries to quiet the desperate cries that threaten to escape. But there is no holding back now; their bodies speak too loudly for mere words to compete. All she can do is give herself over completely to this moment, trusting you with every last beat of her heart.