Fire Bird and the Gray Wolf
10/22/04 06:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyOkaaaay! here's where I leap out into space again.
Het warning for those of you who are 'ew' about that, but it's me, so you don't have to worry too much.
Goodness knows I've pinched and prodded and cut and poked and cursed and cried and nitpicked the hell out of this ( I always like to share my creative processes) and now, for your reading pleasure, more adventures in Old Russia.
Quick! The Previous Parts are racing away across the snow in their troika! Catch them!
Fire Bird And The Gray Wolf
He sauntered back towards the house, feeling almost…free. He licked his lips and smiled, looking out over the yard to see if there was anyone to share his good mood with. He was almost tempted to take on the Colonel; in fact he would if he didn’t suspect that his Uncle and Alexei had already formed some kind of alliance. He decided it was in his best interest not to get between the two of them for now, may they rot in hell together.
Deciding he was hungry, and eager to avoid Boris for as long as possible, he slipped into the kitchen.
It was hot and loud, the steamy air vibrating with the sound of clanging pots, crockery hitting the table, the cooks chopping and shouting orders at the scullery maids, and apprentices. An open fireplace on one wall added smoke to the hazy air, the smell of roasting meat filled the nose and warred with the scent of baking bread and cakes and there were covered bowls of dough on the rise by the wood burning stove, and fresh loaves waiting to be cut lay on the long wooden prep table on the wall opposite. Young boys and girls handled the minor chores of cleanup and stirring the pots, and bobbed and weaved around one another in a well-practiced dance, arguing with each other and stealing bits of food from the prep table, and Kirill looked at all this activity and smiled.
One day all of this would be his.
All of these people would belong to him, all of this land, this country. He grabbed a chunk of bread and a couple of apples. He took a huge bite from one of the apples and chewed, the juice running down his chin.
This world.
A girl passed, brushing against him, her arms full of vegetables for the night’s meal. It was quite impressive all this labor, normally the kitchen was much quieter but when nobility visited, a potato soup and black bread would hardly do.
He turned to watch her, idly thinking she looked familiar, and when she turned to him and smirked, he remembered, she was in Uncle’s room from time to time. Nothing special about her, there were a few who took his place when Uncle decided had no need of Kirill, but then again, she was there more frequently than others.
She came back towards him with an empty basket and brushed casually against him again. His hand shot out and gripped her arm. She winced slightly and then smiled up at him. Her eyes glittered and her teeth were small and pointed. To Kirill she had the look of a fox and her ginger hair accented the resemblance. He pulled slightly and she came towards him with no resistance.
He backed away and she followed, not glancing once at the head cook who’s glare Kirill thought almost rivaled his fire gift.
He pulled her along without a word into the room that was his, cold and bare as a monk’s cell.
All his private belongings were packed; there was nothing here that spoke of him any longer. It was totally anonymous, and that made it perfect.
He pushed the girl onto the bed, and she sprawled there, letting him look her up and down, and then he kneeled on the bed, and pushed her skirts up to her waist, and curled his hand around her hip.She pushed into his hold and sighed, closed her eyes, and looked content. He traced his fingers over the soft skin of her hip, dipped into the curve and followed it to the triangle of ginger hair. He trailed a finger into the curls and pushed into heat.
So different, so hot and wet. He moved his finger in and out, and a rosy flush spread across her neck and face. Her breath came faster and he added another finger, and pushed slower, but deeper, and she gasped. He felt himself stirring, his cock hardening as she began to moan a bit. He spread her legs wide and watched his finger s move in and out, stroked his thumb lightly across her clit, and smiled when she groaned and thrust her hips up. She clamped her muscles around his fingers, and the heat in his groin spread out through his body. He was fully hard, and moved so he could unbutton his breeches. The movement brought his face close to her, and he dipped his head lower and let his tongue slip across her clit. She gasped aloud, and moaned. Reaching for his head, she wrapped her hands in his thick hair and pulled him closer still. He licked again while he unbuttoned and shoved his breeches down his thighs, his cock springing free and bobbing with his movements. Her legs cradled his face as he twisted his tongue over her again and again, and his fingers repeated the rhythm, plunging in and out of her, and he chuckled deep in his chest when she began to whine, and begged him to fuck her.
He slid his fingers out and pressed his thumb into her and sucked at her clit, and she burst into babbling, howled when he slid a wet finger into her ass and pumped as he sucked and tongued at her. She erupted into frantic movement, her hips leaping off the bed, until he had to hold her down with one hand, and she screamed, calling out his name, the name of the saints and the blessed Mother.
He moved back and up onto his arms and slid into her in one thrust. She arched her back and keened as he pushed in; when he rocked back she reached down and touched him, slid her hand around him and let him push into her hand and her body. His legs trembled and he felt as though lightning shot through him when he thought of Boris fucking her, and how angry he’d be when he found out.
She was so wet and hot, and tight, and it felt good, he groaned and pushed in and out, popping the head of his cock all the way out and then plunging in deep, it was good, and she was gasping and whining and her hands were fluttering weakly along his spine and the noise she made kept going higher, and then he couldn’t stop hearing it, it filled his head, and drew sharp nails across his brain —she wouldn’t shut up, and his cock began to flag, he pushed harder, ground tight against her and still it softened. He dropped his head and growled and she made a noise of disappointment.
“Ah well,” she gasped, “It’s like that sometimes with your Uncle too. He usually just flips me over,” she grinned. “And puts his thing where your thumb was,” and winked at him.
He felt his passion vanish at that image. He could only see himself hanging in chains, Boris laughing at him and doing things that made him make him cry out in pain, smiling, smiling that wolf's smile of his.
He looked down into the smug foxy face of the girl, who lay back as if she had a right to relax so in his bed. Her arms were stretched over her head and resting on his pillows and her skirts had slid up almost to her throat now, and her hair was spread across her shoulders, draped over the pillow, and he thought she needed to be off his bed now.
She stretched and threw her legs around his back, and he moved to throw her off when she spoke again.
"That officer, the bald one-- now he was a real bull, that one. Not like Boris. And you know, he has no hair anywhere,” she giggled and tightened her muscles around his cock, trying to get some sign of interest from it.
She prattled on but Kirill was no longer listening.
Alexei, the bastard. He had the nerve to fuck her. How dare he!
Kirill was furious, forgetting that Boris was the only one who had somewhat of a right to be jealous. He had an overpowering image of Alexei plowing into her and he hissed, his cock surging back to fullness.
Her eyes glowed bright.
“Oh! So, it’ s like that is it?" She rocked on him, his erection renewed and twitching with every push on him, and she began to describe what they had done, how big he was, how hard, how he’d made her come so many times, and Kirill was panting—his mind raced, his thoughts were chaotic-- he’d fuck him, fuck him until he screamed, humiliate and conquer him. Make him crawl to him and beg him for his cock—
His lips drew back in a feral grimace as he fucked her furiously, imagining smooth hard muscular legs desperately holding onto him. Looking down into her thin face, he saw gray eyes and a sardonic leer, Alexei mocking him. He’d make him scream with ecstasy before his death-- Her mouth drawn into an ‘O’ of surprise,her eyes were wide and they rolled back as she orgasmed, all of her enclosing him in tight heat, his cock leapt and jerked and she cried out when he came, spilling inside her.
In his minds eye, he saw Alexei shouting out his orgasm.
He opened his eyes again, and she grinned at him, an unpleasantly knowing smirk. She had the air of being entirely too satisfied with herself.
“I hate you? Do you always scream that when you come? Who are you talking to, hmm? And you’re crying.” She laughed, “You’re so sensitive, like a blushing virgin.”
He snarled down at her.
“You think you don’t have to be afraid now? You think you know something, have some control over me? No—you don’t, you have no idea who you’re dealing with--” and punched a finger into her chest, cracking bone and cartilage. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and he tore his finger upward, ripping through broken bone and muscle, plunged his hand into her chest, and squeezed.
He could feel her heart pump frantically like a rabbit’s in the cage of his fingers and then the tissue fragmented, shredded into bits as his fingers met through the mass, and Kirill shook and groaned and came again as her blood fountained up into his face and coated his arm. “Just like this” he panted, “ Blood up to the elbows, your blood everywhere.” He wiped his hand across his eyes, leaving a pink streak through the red.
“I’m going to bathe in your blood,” he whispered as he withdrew from her cooling flesh.
“I’m going to have you and break you and spill all of you across this land.” Alexei or Russia, it made no difference.
TBC
Het warning for those of you who are 'ew' about that, but it's me, so you don't have to worry too much.
Goodness knows I've pinched and prodded and cut and poked and cursed and cried and nitpicked the hell out of this ( I always like to share my creative processes) and now, for your reading pleasure, more adventures in Old Russia.
Quick! The Previous Parts are racing away across the snow in their troika! Catch them!
Fire Bird And The Gray Wolf
He sauntered back towards the house, feeling almost…free. He licked his lips and smiled, looking out over the yard to see if there was anyone to share his good mood with. He was almost tempted to take on the Colonel; in fact he would if he didn’t suspect that his Uncle and Alexei had already formed some kind of alliance. He decided it was in his best interest not to get between the two of them for now, may they rot in hell together.
Deciding he was hungry, and eager to avoid Boris for as long as possible, he slipped into the kitchen.
It was hot and loud, the steamy air vibrating with the sound of clanging pots, crockery hitting the table, the cooks chopping and shouting orders at the scullery maids, and apprentices. An open fireplace on one wall added smoke to the hazy air, the smell of roasting meat filled the nose and warred with the scent of baking bread and cakes and there were covered bowls of dough on the rise by the wood burning stove, and fresh loaves waiting to be cut lay on the long wooden prep table on the wall opposite. Young boys and girls handled the minor chores of cleanup and stirring the pots, and bobbed and weaved around one another in a well-practiced dance, arguing with each other and stealing bits of food from the prep table, and Kirill looked at all this activity and smiled.
One day all of this would be his.
All of these people would belong to him, all of this land, this country. He grabbed a chunk of bread and a couple of apples. He took a huge bite from one of the apples and chewed, the juice running down his chin.
This world.
A girl passed, brushing against him, her arms full of vegetables for the night’s meal. It was quite impressive all this labor, normally the kitchen was much quieter but when nobility visited, a potato soup and black bread would hardly do.
He turned to watch her, idly thinking she looked familiar, and when she turned to him and smirked, he remembered, she was in Uncle’s room from time to time. Nothing special about her, there were a few who took his place when Uncle decided had no need of Kirill, but then again, she was there more frequently than others.
She came back towards him with an empty basket and brushed casually against him again. His hand shot out and gripped her arm. She winced slightly and then smiled up at him. Her eyes glittered and her teeth were small and pointed. To Kirill she had the look of a fox and her ginger hair accented the resemblance. He pulled slightly and she came towards him with no resistance.
He backed away and she followed, not glancing once at the head cook who’s glare Kirill thought almost rivaled his fire gift.
He pulled her along without a word into the room that was his, cold and bare as a monk’s cell.
All his private belongings were packed; there was nothing here that spoke of him any longer. It was totally anonymous, and that made it perfect.
He pushed the girl onto the bed, and she sprawled there, letting him look her up and down, and then he kneeled on the bed, and pushed her skirts up to her waist, and curled his hand around her hip.She pushed into his hold and sighed, closed her eyes, and looked content. He traced his fingers over the soft skin of her hip, dipped into the curve and followed it to the triangle of ginger hair. He trailed a finger into the curls and pushed into heat.
So different, so hot and wet. He moved his finger in and out, and a rosy flush spread across her neck and face. Her breath came faster and he added another finger, and pushed slower, but deeper, and she gasped. He felt himself stirring, his cock hardening as she began to moan a bit. He spread her legs wide and watched his finger s move in and out, stroked his thumb lightly across her clit, and smiled when she groaned and thrust her hips up. She clamped her muscles around his fingers, and the heat in his groin spread out through his body. He was fully hard, and moved so he could unbutton his breeches. The movement brought his face close to her, and he dipped his head lower and let his tongue slip across her clit. She gasped aloud, and moaned. Reaching for his head, she wrapped her hands in his thick hair and pulled him closer still. He licked again while he unbuttoned and shoved his breeches down his thighs, his cock springing free and bobbing with his movements. Her legs cradled his face as he twisted his tongue over her again and again, and his fingers repeated the rhythm, plunging in and out of her, and he chuckled deep in his chest when she began to whine, and begged him to fuck her.
He slid his fingers out and pressed his thumb into her and sucked at her clit, and she burst into babbling, howled when he slid a wet finger into her ass and pumped as he sucked and tongued at her. She erupted into frantic movement, her hips leaping off the bed, until he had to hold her down with one hand, and she screamed, calling out his name, the name of the saints and the blessed Mother.
He moved back and up onto his arms and slid into her in one thrust. She arched her back and keened as he pushed in; when he rocked back she reached down and touched him, slid her hand around him and let him push into her hand and her body. His legs trembled and he felt as though lightning shot through him when he thought of Boris fucking her, and how angry he’d be when he found out.
She was so wet and hot, and tight, and it felt good, he groaned and pushed in and out, popping the head of his cock all the way out and then plunging in deep, it was good, and she was gasping and whining and her hands were fluttering weakly along his spine and the noise she made kept going higher, and then he couldn’t stop hearing it, it filled his head, and drew sharp nails across his brain —she wouldn’t shut up, and his cock began to flag, he pushed harder, ground tight against her and still it softened. He dropped his head and growled and she made a noise of disappointment.
“Ah well,” she gasped, “It’s like that sometimes with your Uncle too. He usually just flips me over,” she grinned. “And puts his thing where your thumb was,” and winked at him.
He felt his passion vanish at that image. He could only see himself hanging in chains, Boris laughing at him and doing things that made him make him cry out in pain, smiling, smiling that wolf's smile of his.
He looked down into the smug foxy face of the girl, who lay back as if she had a right to relax so in his bed. Her arms were stretched over her head and resting on his pillows and her skirts had slid up almost to her throat now, and her hair was spread across her shoulders, draped over the pillow, and he thought she needed to be off his bed now.
She stretched and threw her legs around his back, and he moved to throw her off when she spoke again.
"That officer, the bald one-- now he was a real bull, that one. Not like Boris. And you know, he has no hair anywhere,” she giggled and tightened her muscles around his cock, trying to get some sign of interest from it.
She prattled on but Kirill was no longer listening.
Alexei, the bastard. He had the nerve to fuck her. How dare he!
Kirill was furious, forgetting that Boris was the only one who had somewhat of a right to be jealous. He had an overpowering image of Alexei plowing into her and he hissed, his cock surging back to fullness.
Her eyes glowed bright.
“Oh! So, it’ s like that is it?" She rocked on him, his erection renewed and twitching with every push on him, and she began to describe what they had done, how big he was, how hard, how he’d made her come so many times, and Kirill was panting—his mind raced, his thoughts were chaotic-- he’d fuck him, fuck him until he screamed, humiliate and conquer him. Make him crawl to him and beg him for his cock—
His lips drew back in a feral grimace as he fucked her furiously, imagining smooth hard muscular legs desperately holding onto him. Looking down into her thin face, he saw gray eyes and a sardonic leer, Alexei mocking him. He’d make him scream with ecstasy before his death-- Her mouth drawn into an ‘O’ of surprise,her eyes were wide and they rolled back as she orgasmed, all of her enclosing him in tight heat, his cock leapt and jerked and she cried out when he came, spilling inside her.
In his minds eye, he saw Alexei shouting out his orgasm.
He opened his eyes again, and she grinned at him, an unpleasantly knowing smirk. She had the air of being entirely too satisfied with herself.
“I hate you? Do you always scream that when you come? Who are you talking to, hmm? And you’re crying.” She laughed, “You’re so sensitive, like a blushing virgin.”
He snarled down at her.
“You think you don’t have to be afraid now? You think you know something, have some control over me? No—you don’t, you have no idea who you’re dealing with--” and punched a finger into her chest, cracking bone and cartilage. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and he tore his finger upward, ripping through broken bone and muscle, plunged his hand into her chest, and squeezed.
He could feel her heart pump frantically like a rabbit’s in the cage of his fingers and then the tissue fragmented, shredded into bits as his fingers met through the mass, and Kirill shook and groaned and came again as her blood fountained up into his face and coated his arm. “Just like this” he panted, “ Blood up to the elbows, your blood everywhere.” He wiped his hand across his eyes, leaving a pink streak through the red.
“I’m going to bathe in your blood,” he whispered as he withdrew from her cooling flesh.
“I’m going to have you and break you and spill all of you across this land.” Alexei or Russia, it made no difference.
TBC
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
10/22/04 11:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/23/04 03:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/23/04 01:13 am (UTC)I logged in from my folks' house...
Dude!!!
OMg!!
This got sooo twisted - i lurve it!
He's gonna be one evol bastard...
Whaaaa!!
*hugs you*
(no subject)
10/23/04 03:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/23/04 01:41 am (UTC)That was really, really hot, and the last bit doesn't detract from that.
Wow!
(no subject)
10/23/04 03:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/23/04 01:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/23/04 03:23 am (UTC)Heh! Yep, never make an amoral alien mad!
(no subject)
10/23/04 03:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/23/04 05:44 am (UTC)Moving right along, I love that he wants Alexi writhing in pleasure under him before he kills him.
Well, you know, waste not, want not. *smacks self*
(no subject)
10/23/04 06:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/23/04 10:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/23/04 01:18 pm (UTC)