Mr. Kozlov

I can’t believe I have slept so much! I guess I just really needed it and I am very grateful to Taun for allowing me to rest. Even though he doesn’t appear very sympathetic or seem to care about what happened to me while I was mysteriously transported back to the Retreat, maybe he does understand that what I went through was exhausting to my body and my mind.

In any case, I feel stronger today and think that I am now ready to tell you about my meeting with the third man in that horrific trio: Mr. Kozlov.

I was walking around outside again, enjoy the peace and quiet and the delightfully fresh air (I have no idea where the Gentleman’s Retreat is located but the air always smells so good. It’s mountain fresh with a hint of spring blossoms and is perhaps the only delightful thing about the place. Even the pretty little lake with it’s soothing waterfalls is spoiled slightly knowing that there are dangerous and frightening creatures swimming around in it. But the pure, clean air is always a pleasure to experience and if I close my eyes I can take a deep breath and fill my lungs with its scent and just for a tiny moment my body can feel happy.)

But I don’t think the man who walked up to me cared that I was enjoying the air. He didn’t even bother that his sudden arrival and speech startled me; I think he liked that and did it on purpose to make me flustered. Well, maybe not, I don’t know but I wouldn’t put it past him. He accused me of hiding from the men and told me that I couldn’t do that; even outside I would be found. I quickly promised him that I wasn’t hiding at all, that I was simply walking around and he then told me off for not serving anyone. I started to get very nervous at this point but I told him that I had just come from inside where all the men where already being served (which was true) and so I wasn’t doing anything wrong. He then said that he was not yet being served and that unfortunately for him I would have to do the job. That was a very rude and insulting way of asking me to see to his needs! I told him that he wasn’t being kind to me and instead of apologizing he simply told me that he wasn’t in a kind mood. That frightened me but then his expression and tone of voice changed and he asked me my name, in an almost polite and warm manner. I told him and, to my surprise, he said it was a fine name (which made me feel happy as I’ve always liked my name. It is one of the few things my parents gave me that I actually wanted. I will tell you about my parents, one day, my dear diary-friend, but that will have to wait a while.)

I asked the man for his name too and he told me it was Mr. Kozlov but that I was to call him Sir. We chatted for a short while and he suggested we stroll the grounds together. I had just started to relax a little and enjoy his company when he told me that before we start the walk I had to be properly dressed. He went on to explain what that meant. He could have just said something almost complimentary such as he wanted to see my beautiful body and enjoy it without the clothes spoiling his view. But no. He said, “I expect the prisoner’s holes to always be open and available… at all times.” That made me shiver. Holes? How cold and impersonal can you get?

I was so taken aback by his way of speaking and of the idea of walking around showing my “holes” that I took a few steps back, away from Mr. Kozlov, and shook my head, explaining that Mr. Negulesco had ordered me to always wear a bra and panties. But of course that didn’t deter Mr. Kozlov. He told me that he was sure I was supposed to wear nothing more than my underwear but that if I preferred we could always go to ask Mr. Negulesco to clarify his words. Mr. Kozlov then asked me, “Would you prefer to be naked? Or worse?” I had no idea what could be worse than walking around naked in front of complete strangers who would look at me and probably touch me too, but I quickly started to take off my bra because I definitely did not want to be taken to Mr. Negulesco.

But, in my haste to obey, I got it wrong and blushed very red when Mr. Kozlov pointed out to me that he had told me to uncover my holes so I could keep the bra on. Embarrassed, I quickly put my top back on and slid out of my panties. While doing this I asked him what he had meant by “worse than naked.” I shouldn’t have asked. He was more than happy to explain that to me. He said, “You could be naked and holding a sign saying that you are a slut and need to be fucked in every hole. Or, perhaps, you are tied and pens are available for people to write comments on your body, shameful comments on your most private parts, and so on… I’m sure you get the idea.” At which point he paused to grin at me with what can only be described as a sadistic smile, before suggesting that perhaps I needed to experience these things first hand.

I remember looking at him in horror and shaking my head wildly, begging him not to do any of those things. Luckily he seemed content to simply get me to open my legs and present myself to him. But I just couldn’t bring myself to obey. He wanted me to stand there, in front of him, a complete stranger to me and “present that cunt for inspection.” I protested that it was difficult for me because I was shy and that I didn’t know him. He started to get angry and warned me that because I didn’t know him it was even more important that I do as I am told and that I was there to serve the gentlemen in any and all ways that they required. I hate it when they remind me of that. It’s like they enjoy hearing those words. And it’s not true! That is not my purpose in life. I am allowed to have feelings and it’s not unreasonable to expect that those feelings be respected. Is it?

But I was too scared to continue to disobey him and so I opened my legs a little. That wasn’t good enough, however, and Mr. Kozlov told me that my body is not mine; that it belong to the gentlemen here, and then he added, “Perhaps I need to remind you of that? I am sure the dungeon has adequate means for helping you remember. Or perhaps the third floor?” That got my attention! How did he know I was terrified of the third floor? Had he spoken to Sir Hugo? Sir Hugo is the only one who has threatened to take me up there and he knows how effective a threat that is. Or perhaps he’s just used to seeing the reactions from the other girls when they are told they will be taken up there. I have never seen the third floor. I have heard a lot about it though and that’s enough to make me do almost anything to avoid going there. I’ve heard cruel laughter from the men, and screams of pain from the women as well as unidentifiable sounds coming from the third floor. I absolutely do not ever want to know what goes on there.

In any case, however Mr. Kozlov knew about the third floor and the horrors I am sure happen there, I was now very motivated to try a bit harder to do as he told me. I opened my legs wider and tried to remain still as he began to touch me. He didn’t hurt me, and I was grateful for that, but it still felt awful having this man’s fingers touch such an intimate, sensitive part of my body. I had to look away. But unfortunately, as I did so, I caught a glimpse of the expression on his face as he molested me. He was enjoying my discomfort and humiliation! The bastard.

He then told me it was time to take my bra off too. I asked him why I had to do that when he had just told me I could keep it on. He said, “That was when you were a good girl and followed my instructions. Now I want to see that fully naked body when we go on our lovely walk. After all you are very beautiful and I am sure all the Gentlemen we meet will enjoy your naked flesh being exposed to their unrelenting gaze.” I felt miserable and desperately tried to not imagine everyone staring at me as I removed my bra.

And then things started to get much worse. Oh dear, sweet friend, I can hardly bear to tell you the rest, but I must. It is very difficult for me but I will feel better once I have everything out on paper.

Mr. Kozlov told me to cup my breasts from below and to lift them; to offer them to him. I looked away as I did so, hating the idea that I was giving my body to him. He reached out his hands and began to touch me. At first his touch was light but then he started to play with my nipples, to tease and pull them, twisting and flicking and pinching them until I couldn’t take it any more and I cried out, let go of my breasts, and jumped back away from him.

I apologized for moving away and explained that he had been hurting me and that my breasts were very sensitive. I thought all women’s breasts and nipples were sensitive but either he didn’t know that (which would surprise me) or he didn’t care (more likely) because he simply replied by telling me to stand with my hands behind my head, my back arched, and my legs wide open. I did so but watched him, scared he would touch my nipples again. I begged him to not be so rough with me and he said, “Good girls don’t whine. You will allow any Gentlemen to use your body for anything that they desire. Is that clear?” I nodded, and kept watching him, begging him silently not to hurt me.

Mr. Kozlov looked at my body for a while as though he were thinking. I remember feeling so nervous, wondering what was going through his head, scared that he would think of something awful to do to me.

He did.

I was doing a good job of holding the inspection position he had taught me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what at first looked like a large necklace. I watched him, trying to stay calm, as he said, “You are very beautiful.. and I have a little gifts for those nipples.”

I suddenly realized what the “necklace” was and my eyes widened in horror and fear, I broke the position I had been holding, and I started to move back away from him, shaking my head, begging him not to use them on me. I pleaded with him, telling him that I’d had nipple clamps put on me once before and that it was so painful I almost fainted. I said I’d do anything he wanted me to, that I would be good and perfectly well-behaved, but please, please, please don’t use the clamps on me.

Do you think he cared? Of course he did. I think he cared that I hated it, that I was absolutely terrified, that I was shaking with fear. I think he was enjoying that very much.

He startled to gently caress my cheek as he spoke to me then. I somehow managed to stay still and not flinch when his hands touched my skin. “You will hold your position, and not waiver from it. Then you will ask me nicely to clamp your nipples, and you will stay still while I complete the task.” Then he added, his eyes shining with a flame that burned through me as he spoke, “Otherwise, I’m going to drag you to the third floor and remind you of your position.”

I started to shake so much and I felt so ill that I was sure I would faint, throw up or collapse to the floor. Or maybe all three. Had I heard correctly? Not only was he planning on putting my pour nipples into those instruments of torture, but he actually wanted me to ask him nicely to do so? How cruel could he be? Couldn’t he just do it? Wasn’t it enough that he was going to hurt me, humiliate me, frighten me? He wanted me to ask him to do it?

I started to try and do as he told me. I began by asking him to please… But I couldn’t finish the sentence. I just couldn’t do it! I was staring at the horrible clamps and the chain connecting them as they jingled in his hands when he moved, making an eerily pretty sound. Like the Sirens’ hypnotic song as they sing to you, luring you to your death, smashed against the rocks. I started to cry and begged him again to not put them on me. I was so scared, so terrified of the pain.

But he didn’t change his mind. Why would he? He was enjoying my suffering too much and wanted it to continue. He reached out his hand again and wiped my tears away. His voice was almost soft and kind then but his words were not. He told me that this would be my last warning and that simply asking was now not enough for him. No, now I was to beg and implore him to clamp my nipples.

My knees almost buckled under me as I tried to obey him. My head was swirling and my body was dizzy. I didn’t try and run away from him; I would have collapsed after just one or two steps.

I tried again, knowing that things would only get worse and worse for me the longer I delayed and that he would put those awful things on me anyway whether I wanted it or not. “I… please… would you… please put those… please put them on… on my…” But I couldn’t continue. I just started babbling, “Please don’t make me say it. Please don’t use those on me I’m so scared, please, I can’t…”

Mr. Kozlov then took a step closer to me. He towered over me and his eyes bore right through me as he glared into my soul. “I can teach you about pain. These are nothing.” I was about to faint from the fear that he would then do something even worse to me when his expression changed and he seemed to think of something different. His voice was almost light and breezy as he added, “But perhaps, you need a little distraction to keep that fear at bay.”

I watched through my tears as he pulled out something else from another pocket. He held it in front of my face just long enough for me to see the large vibrator and then, before I could react or speak, he pressed it in between my legs, and up into me. He watched my face as he turned the vibrator on, thankfully not too high a setting, but enough for me to be very aware that it was there. With a cruel smile he then warned me not to let it fall out.

I suppose I should have been grateful that he did this. The vibrations did actually help me relax and helped my body focus on a part of me that wasn’t my nipples and that wasn’t about to get bitten into with mettle teeth. I knew that I had to try again and this time I managed to get the sentence out by speaking as fast as I could, “Please put the clamps on me.”

There, I had said it. I held my breath, waiting for the pain. But it was as if he hadn’t heard me. He started to touch me between the legs and then he leaned forward and gently caressed my breasts. He put his mouth on one nipple and played with it with his tongue. After the pain I had been imagining I would feel, and the gentle buzz of the vibrator, these soft touches almost started to make me feel good.

But he had heard me. He stood back, looking at me, studying me, his eyes shining with a light I could have sworn was pure evil. Then he spoke, “That was really poor begging. We definitely need some practice. But let me help you. Shout out ‘I’m a pain loving slut. Please clamp my nipples and make me scream.'”

This man is a sadist! I thought that some of the men I had met here at the Retreat were cruel but this was something else completely. I don’t know how I did it, but somehow I managed to say the words he wanted me to say. I was shaking so much and my voice was hardly loud enough to be considered shouting but he accepted it and smiled at me, with that evil glint in his eyes as he said, “Yes, I think I will clamp your nipples. Feel free to scream. But keep your position.”

He then held the clamps in front of my eyes and opened and closed them a few times, as if to show me how they work. I decided I wouldn’t scream; I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of hearing me cry out. I watched him play with the clamps in front of me and held my breath as he pinched my nipple, preparing it.

I screamed and screamed and screamed. It was as painful as I remembered and I started begging him over and over to take it off. I almost managed to keep the inspection position but he didn’t seem too concerned that I do so perfectly. He smiled, obviously delighted that I was suffering so much and I could have sworn I heard him sigh, “That is such lovely music.” I’m not sure though as I was screaming still.

He let me writhe in pain for a few moments, content to play with my other breast and touch me between the legs. The vibrator was still humming inside me but I could’t feel it now.

When I had finally stopped screaming and was only looking at him in fear and horror, tears streaming down my cheeks, he held the other clamp up in front of my eyes and said, “Look at it. Follow it with your eyes. I want you to see me close the clamp on this lovely nipple and then feel the pressure as the clamp closes and the tiny teeth lock down on this tender teat.”

I watched, terrified, as he slowly brought the clamp down to my other nipple. I braced myself. But instead of putting it on me he said, “Good girl. I’ll even let you ask me nicely to close the clamp.” I felt my knees buckle again but at that moment he grabbed hold of the vibrator and started moving it in and out of me at a steady, rhythmic pace. I was held up by the vibrator. He watched my face as he added, “But please, don’t keep me waiting. After all we do have many things to accomplish.”

What other horrors did he have in store for me?

I tried to make my mouth say the words he’d told me to say; I tried to ask him nicely to put the other clamp on me, but my mouth just wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t make any words come out.  When I did finally manage to speak, all that came out were pleas and begging for him to take of the clamp. He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “Now you are just being a bad girl. Good girls get rewards, but bad girls… they get punished.” As he spoke he used his thumb to tease my clit, while moving the vibrator in and out of me. My body didn’t know what to do. Parts of me were in agony, pinched between cold metal; other parts wanted to purr as they were being caressed and fondled.

What he said next gave me a small ray of hope. He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear and I thought that maybe he didn’t want anyone else to hear because he was going to be nice to me and he didn’t want them to know so that he wouldn’t lose face, “Well, I suppose I am a gentlemen and going soft in my old age. Perhaps I can remove the clamps from your nipples.” I looked at him, hoping he would do it quickly. But he continued, laughing at me as he spoke,  “And attach them to this little clit here. I’ll let you decide what you want.”

I begged him to put both clamps on my nipples so fast I had barely realized that I had spoken until I heard him say, “A good choice. Now watch closely…”

I didn’t even scream this time. I couldn’t. The pain was so intense, so electric, I felt as though a live current now connected my nipples to every nerve ending in my body. I fell forward, collapsing towards him, trying desperately to pull the clamps off, unable to think straight; unable to even try and hold my position. He caught me and held my arms so I couldn’t pull the clamps off. I struggled, but as I did so it made the chain connecting the two clamps move around and that pulled on the clamps attached to my poor nipples. Mr. Kozlov was not impressed. “You really do require more training. Next time, I will bind you and play with you till you learn how to hold your position.”

Next time? There couldn’t be a next time. No, please no! I would do anything I could to avoid this man in the future. I didn’t how I was going to do it, but I would find a way, I had to.

He held me firmly, not letting me fall, and maybe a part of him did actually feel sorry for me then. Either that or he realized that if I fell or fainted before he’d finished with me then it wouldn’t be as much fun for him. Yeah, probably that. But he spoke almost kindly as he instructed me to breathe through the pain, to take deep breathes and to count to ten. He said he would take the clamps off when I got to ten.

I started to count. The pain in my nipples was now no longer so electric sharp; it was more of a searing flame. Mr. Kozlov moved to stand behind me, pressing himself close to me (I could feel his enjoyment pocking against my back). With one hand he pulled me tightly against him, arching my back and thrusting my breasts out. With his other hand he reached around and started to move the vibrator again, using his thumb to touch me gently as he did so. It actually started to feel almost good. Can you believe that? I almost don’t believe it myself but it’s true. I knew the pain would soon be over and I was trying hard to concentrate on the parts of my body that didn’t hurt and those parts were now so alive under his touch that I was almost able to enjoy the feeling.

I had almost counted all the way to ten when Mr. Kozlov spoke. “Well you are putting on quite a show! Why don’t you cum for me on the count of ten. If you do, then we can end our little playtime for today.” And he chuckled as he added, whispering in my ear as though it were a secret. “Of course, if you disappoint me, then you and I have a date on the third floor.”

All hope of the pain ending and the torture being over then vanished. I begged him to reconsider. I pleaded with him that he had promised to take the clamps off when I counted to ten and that I couldn’t have an orgasm like this, that it wasn’t fair. He simply looked at me, and with a matter of fact tone in his voice he said, “Fair? Who says life is fair? You need to learn that. And you also need to learn that you are here to serve the gentlemen; your body is mine, your pleasure is mine. You only exist to please me. Beside, I have been more then generous. Now all you need to do is cum. Is that so hard?”

What choice did I have? I knew there was no way I would actually cum but how would he know that? I had faked orgasms before and the men had never complained or said anything. They couldn’t tell I was pretending. So I started to make the right noises, and the right facial expressions, trying to concentrate on the vibrator not on the clamps and I acted out an orgasm as I reached the number ten in my counting.

Still standing behind me and now holding my breasts and squeezing painfully, Mr. Kozlov asked me to explain my orgasm to him; to tell him how it had felt. I just presumed that it exited him to hear me talk about it so I tried to give him as realistic and detailed a description as possible. When I had finished with my account I asked him again, as quietly and politely as I could, to please remove the nipple clamps.

He didn’t remove them. Instead, he started pulling on them and flicking them. It hurt so much! He watched my breasts jiggle as he spoke. “That does sound like a wonderful orgasm. By the way, did I forget to tell you that the one thing I will not tolerate is lies? A girl must always tell the truth. I can accept failure to complete a task, I can accept many things, but lies are one thing that I can not. So, is there anything you would like to say before I remove these clamps?”

I burst out crying. He knew I had lied. I confessed the truth to him, sobbing. “I just pretended to have an orgasm. I’m so sorry! I didn’t really cum, I just wanted you to take the clamps off. Please take them off, please! It hurts so much.” And then I cried out again as he began twisting one of the clamps, pulling my poor nipple with it.

“I am very happy that you decided to tell the truth. I will punish you for your lies, but at least you told the truth in the end; there is some redemption in that.” He continued to play with my breasts, but thankfully he was no longer twisting the nipples. I have played with hundreds, maybe thousands of girls, and only one other girl was able to cum faster than you but that was after months of intense training. I had complete control over her, after giving her orgasm after orgasm, and training her body and her mind, until finally she could cum on command. That is how I knew you lied to me. And for that I will be punishing you.”

He had tricked me! He knew there was no way I would have an orgasm! He wanted to see if I would lie or not, probably guessing that I would, just so he could trick me into earning a punishment. This man is so horrible, so cruel, so… I can’t find the words I need to describe him. Monster? Yes, he’s a monster.

I begged him then to just please, please hurry up and take the clamps off. I had done everything he had asked me to. Why wasn’t he removing the clamps?

First he turned the vibrator off and removed it. Then, finally, he reached towards me and pinched the open ends of the clamps, releasing both nipples at the same time. I held my breath, waiting for the pain to finally go away but… I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. My brain desperately tried to interpret the soaring pain. It gave up, and my body slumped towards the ground.

Mr. Kozlov caught me again and cupped my breasts in his hands, easing the pain somewhat. He reminded me to breathe deeply and he took a few moments to make sure that I was alright. Again, it really seemed as though he actually cared about me. Just for a second. But what was more likely was that he was checking he hadn’t damaged the property. Who knows if the men have to may more if they damage what they use?

His voice was kind now, and calm as he spoke. But his words were just as cruel as ever. “”Now, what do you think is a suitable punishment for your lies? Since you told the truth in the end, I will give you the opportunity to redeem yourself with a worthy punishment.” He wanted me to chose my own punishment? After he’d tricked me into earning it in the first place? After he’d made it almost impossible to do anything that he asked me to do? I had no way of choosing something that I thought would be pleasant enough to endure yet bad enough for him to accept as punishment. I was exhausted and I was scared.

I sobbed quietly as I said, “I tried very hard. I really tried so hard. I know I wasn’t perfect, but, please, I don’t know what a suitable punishment is because… I did do what you said. I’m so sorry I lied. But I was desperate! Please, just don’t hurt me any more.” After all this suffering, surely he wasn’t still planning on taking me to the third floor? Oh, please, please no.

I waited, no idea what he would say, no idea what my future would hold. After a short while he smiled and said, “Well the punishment should fit the crime, so since you lied about your orgasm, I shall let you have some orgasms. Ten in fact: one for each count. Doesn’t that sound very benevelent of me?”

And he stood there, waiting for me to thank him. At first all I could do was protest, saying that surely it wasn’t even possible to have so many orgasms one after the other, that I’d probably never be able to cum at all with him anyway, and that he was just setting me up for failure and another punishment. He seemed to watch me with an air of amusement and allowed me to babble. Once I’d calmed down a little I realized that I was stupidly trying to talk myself out of a punishment that could’t possibly be so awful. I mean, if the objective is to make me have an orgasm, he’d hardly be likely to hurt me, would he? Would he? I had no idea. But I decided that this punishment sounded much better than some of the other tortures I was sure he could dream up so I said, “But, I mean, yes, that would be a good punishment I think. I mean, it sounds appropriate. Thank you.” And then I bit down on my lip, hard, annoyed at myself for thanking him for planning my punishment.

“You are very welcome.” He said, grinning at me. “But, today has been long, so I will punish you the next time I see you. Of course, since it is a punishment you will be stripped naked and restrained in the main hall so that anyone can see you and anyone can assist. And, since you lied about your orgasms I will let the crowd determine if you really orgasmed or not. In the meantime, you can think about how much you will enjoy all that ‘pleasure’.”

I looked at him in horror, “But I won’t be able to orgasm like that! I can’t have an orgasm with people watching and laughing and… I just can’t… I need to feel good in order to cum. I’ll never cum tied up with people watching!”

“Well maybe next time you will remember that before you attempt to lie to any of the Gentlemen. But don’t worry, I’ll let Mr. Negulesco know about this so he can make a general announcement and everyone at the Retreat can be given the opportunity to participate in your punishment and rehabilitation.”

“Oh no! Please don’t! No, please! You can’t tell Mr. Negulesco that I lied to you. You can’t! Please! I’ll do anything you want, I’ll be good, I’ll like whatever you do to me, I promise, I won’t complain, I won’t resist, please… don’t tell him… please you can’t!” I was shaking all over, absolutely terrified.

“You made your bed, now it is time to lay on it.” He said calmly. “Lies are one thing I do not tolerate. Be grateful for such a ‘pleasurable’ punishment; it could be much, much worse.

Then he bent down, picked up my bra and panties, tossed them towards me before turning around and walking away.

I felt the underwear hit me lightly then flutter to the floor. I made no effort to catch it. I didn’t have the strength. I stared at him as he walked away, wanting desperately to run after him and beg him to change his mind, plead with him that today was enough; that I didn’t need to be punished next time.  But my muscles wouldn’t move. I was too exhausted to anything other than collapse to the ground in a heap. This time there was no one there to catch me and I fell to the floor in a heap. I had tried to be good. I had tried so hard! Everything he had wanted me to do was so awful, so difficult, so terrible and I had managed to comply. But one little lie and now I would live in fear of the next time I saw this man.

I curled up into a ball on the grass and sobbed until sleep finally took me away from the nightmare my life had become into its sweet world of happy dreams.

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