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Most of the characters and situations in this story are completely fictional and a product of the writers own imagination. The only one that isn’t, is the lovely and ever cruel and cold bastard, Mikhail. We have darkknight0307 to thank for him. Forgive the long wait on this new chapter, apparently we have to separate the paragraphs according to speakers! Didn’t know that! Well here you have it everyone! For all the people who favorited the last chapter, please leave feedback. I would really love to know what you all are thinking! And suggestions are always welcome.

“Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves-regret for the past and fear of the future.”

Fulton Oursler, 1893-1952


Emily felt the cold before she felt anything else and for a brief moment, for a few blissful seconds, she thought she was dead. It was when those seconds passed that the familiar smell of sulfur mixed with the musty scent of the commander’s tent reached her nostrils. Moments after that, a sharp pain split mercilessly into her skull where, what she figured had to have been His pistol, had connected with the back of her head. “Fuck.” She thought groggily to herself, and began the painful task of forcing her eyes open.

In any other situation, in any other place and time, she might have laughed when she realized the drug Lord had decided to tie her securely to a chair this time, but at that moment it took all that she had not to let the ever growing fear in her mind consume her. The tent was pitch black around her, and if the pain hadn’t been there to remind her that her eyes were actually open, she would have been hard pressed to believe that they were. She hated the dark…even more now so then before. The faces of her men floated before her eyes even as she struggled to figure out a way to loosen her wrists, which had been securely and expertly tied to either arm of the uncomfortable metal chair she was seated in. It was hopeless…and she knew he would have taken extra precautions to make sure she did not cause him any more inconvenience. Emily sighed, forcing herself to accept the fact that she was now completely and utterly alone. “Just get him to kill you quick…” She thought to herself. “Please God…let him kill me…let him….” Emily could not remember the last time she had thought to pray, but hell, why not…all she had was time now.

” De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine:

Domine, exaudi vocem meam:

Fiant aures tuae intendentes,

in vocem deprecationis meae.

Si iniquitates observaveris, Domine:

Domine, quis sustinebit?

Quia apud te propitiatio est:

et propter legem tuam sustinui te, Domine.

Gloria Patri, et Filio…”

Her stomach gave a violent and painful twist when a soft, cold, and amused chuckle came from somewhere in the darkness around her.

“et Spiritui Sancto.

Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper,

et in saecula saeculorum. Amen.”

He finished the latin prayer with the accuracy of one who had been speaking the language fluently since childhood…and she knew if by some twisted humor of God, she was allowed to walk away from this camp, that she would never be able to utter the prayer again.

Where was He? Emily became increasingly frustrated at her slight delirium and the realization that he was somewhere in the tent with her, and she had no idea where. The silence dragged on for what seemed like hours, though most likely it had only been a split second.

He was there. His hot breath close to her neck, sending a feeling of disgust washing over her. “God…cannot help you here, Major.” He whispered into her ear.

“Just kill me motherfucker…I’m not going to tell you what he said. So how about you save us both the frustration and…” Once again, her words were cut short by that cold laughter, but at least her suggestion had been enough get him to move away from her; how far away she wasn’t quite sure…but as long as she couldn’t feel him….

“Oh kuşadası escort Major, Major, Major….I’m not going to kill you!” His voice dripped with amused derision, and Emily could hear the sound of his heavy boots, pacing around her like some kind of hungry wolf stalking it’s prey. “For now anyway, I simply wish us to become more acquainted.” There was a click and soon to follow was a flood a bright light that forced Emily’s eyes closed once more. “Forgive me for being such a terrible host earlier, I must admit that way out here in the middle of nowhere, it is easy to forget one’s manners.” His voice had dipped back to that deceitfully soothing tone, that one that almost made Emily want to let spill all that she had to tell from her lips to gain his mercy… and she might have, had she no pride.

“Fuuuuuck you.” Emily said through a bored and groggy sigh, only to be rewarded with another soft laugh.

“Soon…perhaps…” He said, matter of factly, “Allow me to make up for it now, are you hungry?” She heard him ask, and running out of witty remarks by now, she simply shook her head no. A lie of course, as the last time she had had any conception of time what so ever, she had been 48 hours without food. Only her captor knew now how long exactly it had been.

“Thirsty then?” He offered instead, only to be met with another shake of her head. Emily let her eyes drift open a bit and found him standing over her. She could not judge exactly how tall he was from where she was sitting…hell, even when she was standing, most people towered over her small frame. Perhaps 5’11?

“What the hell does that matter?” Emily scolded herself harshly and lifted her eyes slowly up to meet his. “You mind stepping off asshole?” She breathed with a sarcastic cock of her head.

The man ignored her, like Emily knew that he would, and simply continued to talk. “My name is Mikhail…but I imagine you already knew that…” The room filled with the sweet scent of tobacco at the same time the sound of the flick of a lighter made her flinch into awareness. She’d never in her life smoked a cigarette, but as he placed one between her lips and lit it for her a moment later, the idea did not seem nearly as repulsive to her now as it had in the past. He allowed her to take a long drag before he continued speaking. “The United States has made it very clear that your ‘Alpha’ team does not now…and never has existed…You were never a liability to them, I am sure. Nor were you ever the supposed leader of that team. Attention was successfully diverted from Alpha’s teams actual leader…One Jason Lucian Marquez, a retired Marine Veteran and current contractor, through your ignorance. This lack of information, as it were, ended his life much earlier than was needed and has kept you alive much longer than I would have liked.” Emily snorted and set her boots firmly on the ground.

“Your really know how to charm the girls you know that, Mikhail?” She snapped and took another long drag.

Mikhail was quiet for a long moment, seating himself on the chair opposite Emily and simply staring. She held his gaze, refusing to allow him to see the fear his silence was causing to stir in her. His face was completely unreadable…a fact that was more disconcerting to her now than it had been the first time she had seen pictures from his file in the operation report. This was Mikhail…Czar of the dangerous underworld…feared King of the drug culture, human trafficking, illegal weapon dealings, and god only knew what the hell else. Rumor of how dangerous this man actual was had traveled through the base, but a part of her had known that no matter what, it would never touch her…until she had been assigned to this mission. Even then though, she was sure that it would be uneventful. “Get in, get out.” Was her orders. Get proof…solid, undeniable evidence that Mikhail was here. Radio in, and another team would take it from there. Simple…in theory.

She flinched when he kuşadası escort bayan spoke again, “Your being rude, Major. I’ve told you my name…now it’s your turn.” He crossed his leg over the other and gazed at her.

Emily swallowed hard…and spoke slowly what she had been taught so many times during the many boring power point presentations before her deployment. “My name is Emily Tyler…I am a Major in the United States Army…”

“What is your middle name, Emily?” Mikhail asked in a bored voice. Emily stared at him scornfully.

“What the fuck does that matter?” She spat, regretting it the moment he snapped to his feet, light anger filling his eyes.

“Middle name…Emily.” He snarled gently.

“I…It doesn’t matter…I don’t use it…” Emily choked back the explanation. She saw the back of his hand fly much too late, and it connected with her jaw with no mercy. Mikhail’s fingers wrapped around her throat tightly, and she felt the blood draining from her face as he knelt down so that their faces were level.

“It’s not such a big thing Emily…your middle name…that’s all I ask. You will answer me now, or the pain I will cause you will be very needless.” He whispered.

Emily whispered it quietly, but when his fingers tightened, she repeated it, “Sirota.”

“Sirota…” He mimicked and straightened. “I take it you know what this word means…orphan.” The smirk that slide across his face made her want to be sick. “So…there is more to you than meets the eye…” Mikhail breathed, slipping a knife from his pocket. Emily’s eyes set on it instantly. He was staring at it as well, “There now…that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He spoke softly, as he dropped the knife to her throat and held it there as he stepped around behind where she sat. “Now…be a good girl…and continue to answer Daddy’s questions the FIRST time he asks them and he’ll give you a treat, perhaps I’ll even kill you…nice and quick…don’t answer the questions fast enough…and you’ll be wishing for hell by the time I am finished with you, ponyal?”

Emily felt herself shaking hard…this was too much. She could deal with pain…what she could not deal with, nor had she ever been able to deal with, was people searching needlessly into her past. “Just do it…He’ll kill you when he’s all done…just tell him everything…They betrayed you…just do it…” She thought to herself, and focused her eyes forward, hoping zoning out a little would help with what she was about to do. “Ya ponimayu, Mikhail.” She whispered, her voice void of any emotion.

“Good…Good Girl…” He coddled, his hand running over her hair. “Now…Tell me everything…first of you…” Mikhail ordered, and began to trace some sort of invisible design against her collar bone with his knife.

Emily cleared her throat and spoke quickly to appease him, “I…I was born in upper Ballinderry, in County Antrim in Northern Ireland. It’s…it’s a very small town…My mother left me at Saint Brigid Orphanage for girl’s, then went back home and hung herself. I was adopted by an American couple when I was six, and moved to Seward, Alaska with them. The End.” She was fighting the tears she felt trying to force their way from her eyes. She had never spoken the story out loud to anyone.

“Who named you?” He asked serenely, nonchalantly digging the tip of his knife into her shoulder blade. “My Father, after my mother died…” She winced and he chuckled, digging the tip deeper. “And his name?” Mikhail’s voice danced about her, mocking her weakness.

“Vitya Mihailov.”

The name seemed to echo into the suddenly sub temperature air of the tent. Mikhail had frozen, and so, thankfully, had his knife.

“Ne vozmozhno…Ne vozmozhno…” ((No way…no way))…Mikhail breathed after a few long seconds. The knife flashed quickly before her eyes and just as she was about to scream, she felt the rope binding her to the chair fall away. He used to the back of his boot to shove escort kuşadası her forward from the chair and send Emily sprawling to the floor. She scampered backwards away from him, but he advanced, backing her against a cot. “Lezha shlyuha! Glupaya malen’kaya suka!” ((Lying Whore! Stupid little bitch!)) He spat and let his foot fly, and the sharp crack of her breaking ribs filled the tent. She didn’t understand what she had said wrong…why was he so angry now? The red hot pain traveled from her ribs to the rest of her body, but she knew he wasn’t done yet…that didn’t seem to be the way he worked…

“Please! What did I do wrong!? I answered your questions!” Emily screamed, trying to cover her stomach from the blows beginning to reign down from his boot.

“Shut your fucking mouth, little cunt! Fucking little liar!” He growled, reaching down and wrapping his fingers into her red hair. “Do you know what happens to little girls who lie to Daddy?” He snarled, dragging her from the tent and into the deathly cold winter morning. All became a blur then, she hit the cold snow and suddenly several pairs of hands were on her, ripping her uniform from her until she had no hope of modesty save wherever her hair fell to save some of her modesty. She was thrown against a tree, her arms pulled around it, and her wrists tied to keep her still and her back exposed. His men stood all around, leering at her body and licking their lips. Emily squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead against the tree.

“Please Lord…let me just die…please…” She whispered to herself.

Mikhail’s voice was at her ear once more. “I thought I told you girl…your God is not here.” She heard the sound of a zipper falling and it was then that she started to get scared.

“Please…please! No! Mikhail!” She whimpered, struggling against her binds. His hand was in her hair again, shoving her face against the tree as he pressed his warm, hard cock against her ass.

“Shut up little girl. This isn’t for you…this is for Daddy.” He spoke softly. “Your reward for being a lying little slut is coming after…and it may be almost as painful…” She felt him at the entrance to her ass and finally she burst into tears.

“Please! Please God no!” She screamed.

“You’ll have to forgive me, slut. Generally I’m much more gentle with my girl’s than I’m about to be with you…but your not one of my girl’s….yet….” He grunted as he shoved the head of his dry cock inside her, and if he had said anything after that point, Emily had not heard. Her screams filled the cold night air as he pumped viciously inside of her.

“He’s too big…he’s too big!” Emily’s thoughts screamed as she sobbed.

He began to move faster, pumping into her as his cock stiffened and became impossible hard inside of her. He did not make a sound when he came in her ass…save for the soft grunts he gave as he milked the rest of his seed inside of her. Emily fell limp against the tree, staring blankly into the woods and seeing nothing at all.

“Please kill me…” She spoke softly when the sound of his zipper being re-zipped hit her ears. Mikhail came around the tree in front of her and stared down at her small form.

“What did you say?” He asked softly, bending to stroke the side of her face. Emily did not bother to look at him, she simply repeated her request and Mikhail smiled.

“Oh no, no no no, my new little pet…Daddy would never do that…No…I’m going to wake you up now…and when I am finished…” Mikhail furnished a whip that Emily had not seen before from his belt and showed it to her. “When I am finished, you will get down on your knees, and you will kiss my boots, and thank me for giving you such attention…now wont you?” He asked quietly. Emily lifted her eyes finally to stare at him…and spit into his face.

“Fuck you! I would never do that.” She growled through gritted teeth. Mikhail straightened and smiled.

“We’ll see about that pet.” He chuckled and moved back around behind her. Emily tried to ignore the tears now streaming down her cheeks and what felt and probably was blood rolling down her thighs.

“He’ll kill me eventually…just go somewhere else Emily….”De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine:Domine, exaudi vocem meam….”

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