I swallow the lump in my throat. His mother had died a couple of years before mine, weakened by the harshness of Norilsk. Nikolai had been trying to bring her to America, to an easier life. I’d seen him cry that day for the first and only time.
“Two, three months after, I realized I could give up, or I could try to emulate my mother. There’s always joy in music. You just have to let it in.”
I blink back a stray tear. “When the door opens, other things come in. Pain. Sorrow. Fear.”
He turns to me. “The parable of Pandora’s box,” he says intently, “is that there’s always hope. You just have to remember that.” He looks into my eyes. “You are too young to give up on life, Allie. Now, get downstairs. I’ll join you in a moment.”
***
I’m handed a large glass dildo when Nikolai walks into the room. “Use it.” His voice is an order, but there’s an undertone of amusement to it.
I’m sure my face flames. I avoid reaching out and touching my cheeks to check, but they burn with warmth and embarrassment. I cannot masturbate in front of this man. I just cannot. “Please, no,” I whisper in complete mortification.
“Yes.” His voice is firm. He unbuckles his belt and draws it from its loops, doubling it upon itself. “Use red to stop me, and yellow if you want me to ease back.”
I thought I wasn’t going to have a safe word, I want to reply. But, though I’m probably being naïve and romantic, I’ve never seriously believed that I’m in danger from Nikolai. No. The real danger is my emotions, swelling up to unbearable pressure behind the walls I’ve built. When those walls burst, I’m not sure what exactly will happen.
“Move that dildo in and out of your cunt, Allie.”
I’ve been naked for two days, yet this feels like the greater embarrassment. This is personal and revealing. As many men as there have been in my bed, I’ve never masturbated in front of one of them. This is entirely too intimate. This is something I’d do in front of a lover that mattered.
In that basement, sitting on the piano stool, with my legs spread apart, and a warm breeze touching the inner folds of my cunt, I realize that I want to matter to Nikolai because he matters to me.
I keep my eyes lowered. I’m not sure what mine will reveal. There’s fear of what I’ve discovered. But there’s arousal as well, and though my erect nipples and the wet, squishing noises that my pussy makes already reveal that lust to Nikolai, I still hide my gaze. I’m less exposed if he just thinks I’m physically attracted to him. If he realizes the extent of my caring, I don’t know what I would do.
My body thrums with pleasure as I move the dildo in and out of me. Nikolai moves around me as my fingers curl around the phallus and thrust it into my body. The belt starts kissing my skin. Each lash has me groaning out loud, shuddering with mingled pleasure and pain. The flaming in my skin is met with answering fire in my cunt. My entire body feels like it is about to combust from a stray spark.
Nikolai moves behind me, and the belt curves around my breasts. I stare into space, a slave to the sensations churning through my body. I can smell leather, mingled in with the clean, crisp scent of his aftershave. I hear the whistle in the air as it lands on my nipples and I find myself moaning like a wounded animal.
But I don’t pull away, and both my hands wrap around the dildo, pistoning it in and out of my pussy, imagining that it is Nikolai who is thrusting into my body.
Now, my inside thighs are lashed. Each stripe makes me whimper, but I keep my legs open for him. I watch my skin redden and I feel the response of my cunt, weeping in pleasure at the punishment he’s putting me through.
My fingers find my clitoris, and I grind the dildo into me, hard, as if I can fuse it into my body. When my orgasm claims me, I slip off the piano stool from the force of it and rest on the floor, utterly drained.
My skin is red and sweaty. My hair sticks to my forehead in damp waves. I’m completely unsurprised by the words that come out of his mouth. “Play for me now, Allie.”
***
After a long afternoon of practice, I’m allowed upstairs. “Can I go out for a walk?” I ask him hesitantly. I’ve been stuck in his house for two days, and I crave fresh air.
“Of course,” he says. I hug myself inwardly. I’ve no doubt that Nikolai would have sent me back to the dungeon if he’d been unhappy with my playing. I can feel the progress I’m making, and his permission underscores it. “But, let’s get you properly attired for the cold. Go get dressed.”
When I come back upstairs, he has a scarf and a hat in his hands. They must be his. They smell like him. I try not to breathe it in, afraid of acting like a silly teenager. He wraps the scarf around me, and pulls the hat down over my head. Pulling me close, he kisses my lips, a brief, fleeting touch.