Brooch of Borozhniy

Marie woke, refreshed and still completely naked, an hour later. She had dreamed. She dreamed Rubyanich sat on a black throne in a dimly lit hall, an empty throne to his left. He had invited her to sit there, naked, while a group of men in clothes centuries out of date bowed to them both and he grasped her hand. She sat up in bed and looked at the brooch, now sitting on the new dresser. It seemed to speak to her, a sensual, comforting sound.

Once again she was distracted at work. Her supervisor stopped by to talk a little, trying to coax out why one of her hardest working employees was suddenly not able to focus on her job, but Marie talked around it. As the conversation ended, the supervisor put her hand on Marie's and said softly, "Your distraction is getting noticed. Be careful."

The rest of the day, she tried to do better and she was relieved when Amos didn't bring his annoying self over to her. She had no desire to look at his belly, especially as it stoked fear that hers was headed toward the same unappealing condition. At four, she shut down her computer, packed up the remains of her lunch, and left the office.

She walked to the parking garage she had used for the two years she had worked there, climbed the stairs as she always did, and walked out onto the deck where her car would be parked. Suddenly a large figure stepped from behind a van and blocked her route.

"Well well, look here, it's the distracted little girl who keeps making faces at me. What's the matter, bitch, you think you're too good for me?"

She looked to each side, trying to decide if she could get past him safely. "Amos, please let me pass. I need to get home. I'm expected."

He smiled. Despite the coolness of the March day, he wore no jacket and his belly moved when he laughed. "Aww, sure, of course you have somebody waiting. You let some guy into your apartment and he's waiting for you so he can hold you down and fuck you like your brother did. He tells me your daddy was a good teacher."

She tried not to show her sudden fear. It didn't matter which brother it was, they all had time with her, but since he said daddy was the teacher it likely meant the brother just older than her, who was first invited to take a turn when she was 14 and had continued taking a turn for four years. But how would Amos know?

"Yeah, you little slut, I see the wheels turning. It's an online chat group. I was describing a girl who was suddenly distracted and he started asking questions. We took it offline and he gave me all the info. You're quite the trained bitch, from what he says. I happen to love doggy, so how about you join me in my van and I check out your skills."

Trapped, was the word that popped into her head. But would he grab her and maybe leave a mark if she said no? Could she say no? For years there was no option. She found out the first time she decided to resist why her mother had gone to the rescue of a bottle. Her father kept her home from school until the bruises were gone and she had never done that again.

"The lady is spoken for and is not available for what you want." The baritone in a slavic accent was impossible to miss, and yet Amos pretended to hear nothing.

"You wanna keep your job? You wanna keep being able to have stuff of your own? You nod your head real nice and climb in." He began to open the rear door of the van, but it was suddenly pushed closed again. Now there was no ignoring the newcomer. "Ok, Rusky, who the hell do you think you are?"

"I am Rubyanich, Prince of Borozhniy, and this is my chosen bride. You do not speak that way to my princess."

Amos looked at her, then looked back to him, and then started laughing. "That shit might work where you come from, pal, but here in the US I don't care what fancy titles you might want to flash. You're foreign shit, got it? And I'm gonna fuck daddy's little girl or she loses her job. Now fuck off."

"Marie, my love, go to your vehicle and don't look back." Rubyanich was looking at her, a gaze she could not ignore. And he had called her princess, his love, and .. chosen bride? Deeper and more firmly. "Go now."

She had to obey. She started walking around the smiling hulk of Amos. He reached out for her and his wrist was grabbed and held. And squeezed.

He looked at the thin man in the suit with the dark hair. "Ok, I'll give you that you're stronger than you look. Now let go or we talk to the cops."

She moved beyond hearing, wanting to turn her head but feeling as if something was on her shoulders keeping her head pointed straight ahead. She got into her car, backed up, and started for the entrance. The van, Amos, and Rubyanich were already gone. He had protected her. He had claimed her. Now she wanted him to take her, hold her, make love to her.

She went home and had dinner, sitting in bra and panties. She had never done that, but she felt an urge and decided to follow it. There was a sense of freedom. She could decide for herself to show or not show her body. She could give herself to whomever she wanted to give it. Her father, her brothers, did not control her any more.

After dinner she went into her bedroom, removed her bra, and put on a plain, button-down white shirt. The brooch caught her eye. Once again it seemed to be calling her. Inviting, desiring her to put it on. She picked it up and attached it to her white shirt. Immediately that warm glow filled her again.

There seemed to be a whisper in the air. She struggled to hear it, to understand it. "Nadovayat." The metal legs of the brooch gripped her breast, warming it in spite of, or perhaps through, the pain of feeling dozens of pins inserted in her tender flesh. The next word was lost in the sudden sensation that her nipples were being sucked. She gasped for air and pushed her hand into her panties. The sensation of sucking expanded until it seemed her entire fleshy orbs were inside an unseen mouth, it's tongue lapping coarsely at her nipples, making them swell and harden in seconds. Her fingers found her slit, wet, and dove in with an insatiable urge to find her orgasm and draw it to the surface.

As the pink haze faded from her view and she came down from another intense orgasm, she saw his shoes first. She was on her knees, panties halfway down her thighs, shirt open. She looked up at him, at the man who loved her, who had saved her from Amos, who would make her a princess.

"Ah, my love, it isn't right that you should be on your knees to me. Not yet, anyway." He laughed and it seemed to echo in a dark, empty hall. "Tonight I will take you, but that is only the first part of our ceremony. Next week, the moon and winds will be right for us to complete the ceremony as I truly take you to myself."

He helped her to her feet. "What about...?" She started to ask, but forgot the question.

"I see you enjoy the brooch. It is amazing, isn't it? What it does to a simple orgasm, a simple touch." He ran a finger down the skin showing between the open sides of her shirt and she shuddered, almost dropping to her knees again. The finger continued down, slowing as it neared, then entered her furry patch and the treasures it barely hid. "I appreciate a woman who is natural. It's old fashioned, like me. Try to stay on your feet." His fingertip touched her clitoris and he whispered, "Voy va shlom."

How she got onto her bed or when he undressed, she didn't know. He spoke those words and her senses exploded in an orgasm more powerful than any up to that time. She didn't know if she had stayed on her feet. She knew nothing between then and now, as they kissed and he slid his penis in and out of her magic cavern. Her hands caressed his back and her legs wrapped around his. She FELT connected to him now, like she was married, his, and he had claimed her. His eyes opened right above hers and she sensed his smile, his welcome back to reality for her.

He never increased his speed, despite her efforts. As good as it was, she felt driven to get more. She NEEDED more. His gentle whisper, "Now," was her only warning before she felt him pulsing, pumping, filling her with warmth that sped her up that sensual hill to bliss, taking her over the top with a moaning orgasm that left her still able to enjoy it and be aware of it. Even after he stopped moving, she felt the joy, the intoxicating sensations, echoing inside.

"I must go now. When you arrive home tomorrow, before you eat, strip naked and lay on this bed, place the brooch on your vagina, and spread your arms and legs. You will know when to get up." He kissed her, a kiss that made her dizzy, and when the dizziness passed he was also gone.

Marie put her fingers into her vagina and felt his offering to her. She pulled out fingers coated with a sticky, grayish cream that seemed to warm her fingers and invite her to taste. For a half hour, she scooped the cream from one entry and licked it into another. She shuddered with sexual warmth and closed her eyes.

She woke on time in the morning, still naked, still warm. Still remembering she was now, now, she didn't quite know what. She was mated, but not married. The ceremony still needed completion. She showered, had breakfast, and went to work.

As soon as she walked in the door she heard the excited talking. One person near her desk was especially animated. "It happened after work yesterday. They just don't know why he was at that junkyard."

"Whatever he was after," said another, "he should have noticed the beware of dogs sign."

"You know," chimed in a third, "the cops can't figure how he got so deep into the yard without the dogs barking and warning him. From what I read, by the time he started running, there was no way he would reach the gate before they got him."

Marie was going to start asking questions when she saw a nearby computer screen with a headline and a picture. "Man Mauled by Dogs in Junkyard." The picture was of Amos. She brought up the story on her own computer and read. The police assumed he wanted something but didn't want to pay, so he snuck in after the place closed. Somehow he got almost to the very center of the yard before the dogs noticed him. He was badly mauled, his phone ripped from his pocket by a dog's bite, and he died before the yard owner could pull the dogs away and call for help.

Dogs? She remembered his comment about liking doggy. Was there a connection?

She stared at the screen. Her supervisor touched her shoulder and she jumped. "I'm sorry, dear. You look really white. Are you ok?"

Turning to look at the older woman, Marie said, "He met me in the parking garage, wanted me in his van. Somebody helped me. What was he after there?"

The supervisor sighed. "I don't know, dear, but that makes you one of the last people to see him alive. I'll tell you what, I hated his guts and he got me into that van more than once, threatening to make me lose my job if I didn't get in. I'm not telling anybody if you don't. I'm glad he's gone." She got up and left.

Yes, glad he's gone. But her prince was the last, why did she just call him that? He was the last person to see Amos. Or was he? Did he somehow make that happen? But, the dogs. Rubyanich had her Amos say doggy. But he had protected her, and that's what mattered. No, nobody else would know Amos had bothered her that night.

Oddly, her day went better. She felt better. Talk about Amos settled down and people got their work done without fear of him walking up and saying something. She went home at the end of her work day happier than she had been in weeks.

As soon as she walked into her apartment, she remembered the instructions. She undressed, lay on her bed, placed the brooch on her vagina, parting the hair to place it as directly as possible on the folds of her vaginal lips, then lay back with her arms and legs spread wide apart.

Nothing happened for several minutes, then she felt warm. The pinch of the legs on her aroused folds hurt, but the pain quickly passed and was replaced by an inner glow of arousal. She felt motion and was tempted to look, but kept her eyes closed as something caressed her exposed skin, encasing the front and sides of her body, including head, arms, and legs, with a sensuous undulating rhythm. Her breathing quickened, and she felt moisture at her vagina, seeping from within.

Her eyes were still closed, but she saw a dimly lit stone room. She was on her back, held down by four sets of hands, on a canopy bed. Turning her head, she saw that two of the holders were Emil and Yuri. Emil was speaking.

"Buy my lord prince, she is a commoner, and a very common one at that. Surely you desire something more?"

Her head turned to the other side and she saw her prince arriving, muscular and dark skinned, wearing only something like a loin cloth. "Emil, mind your place. You have been rewarded for your loyalty, do not now incur my anger."

"No, my lord," Emil replied. "I merely seek to advise you, as I have done these many centuries. There are only three more and we are free. I bow, as always, to your will."

Now he was there, her prince, smiling and running his fingers lightly over her bare breasts. "Yes, Emil, my will. And I will this one. She is common, she is plain, but a strength burns inside her and I love her as I have not loved since long ago." There were tears in his eyes now. He climbed onto the bed and descended onto, then into her. A blur of sensations followed, his penis pleasuring her in ways she had never imagined. She screamed a silent orgasmic scream and it continued for the five minutes of her orgasm.

She woke with a start, damp with sweat and her vagina almost humming as the nerves tried to release the stimulation. She brought her hand down and felt the overflow. Her fingers came up into her view, once again coated with his seed, though a quick look did not find him. She rose and hurried through the apartment, dripping carelessly on the floor, until she was satisfied she was alone. Standing in confusion, she felt a warm weight on her vaginal lips and looked down. The brooch was still there, waiting for her hand to carefully remove it.

The next day was Saturday. No work. She polished the old bureau until it was shiny, taking care to get into all the carvings around the mirror, feeling that sensual thrill in her fingertips that she had felt when she went to the estate sale and her prince had first told her to touch it.

The dreamy orgasm was on her mind, and since last night she had not liked Emil at all. But the way Rubyanich had defended her, and the tears in his eyes, made her love him deeply.

There was no knock, she didn't hear the door open, but when she walked out of the bedroom, he was there, smiling, wearing that same suit. She bowed. "Welcome, my prince."

He touched her chin and raised her head. "Hello, my princess. You've been busy today, haven't you?"

"Yes my lord, I have been polishing that wonderful piece of furniture."

He sighed and had her sit on the torn couch, then sat next to her and took her hand. "It was my grandmother's, as was the brooch. I was young, still being trained to be a ruler. The mongols were massing to attack us and none of our neighbors would risk their wrath by coming to our aid. The small land with a prince who refused to bow to the Khan. We were no match, but my grandfather hoped to spare us from total destruction. The sorcerer he went to insisted on having access to two items of his wife, a piece of furniture and an item she would wear. Amazingly, we were winning the battle, and then the mongols simply went away and left us. We were saved, but there was a price to pay." He sighed, "Isn't there always a price?"

The prince looked at her with a sad smile. "My Grandmother was gone. Eventually, my grandfather died, then my parents. I had not married yet and had no children, so the curse was manifested in me. Our people died out, the castle fell into ruin. I could choose twelve to serve me, and we lived on. I needed to marry 300 women, then the curse would be lifted and we would fade into the earth as our families had done so long before."

"And there are three left. Does that include me?"

"The brooch loves you as I do. Yes, you and two others. My grandmother was, I realized when I was older, a very beautiful and sensuous woman. Thus, the curse provided that enhancement to those who would be chosen. When you feel the carvings, it's as if she is with your fingers, letting you know all the twists and curves as if she bent over to trace the lines while seducing her husband once again."

"My prince, I'm no seductive lady. I'm, well, fat and plain."

He turned and took both her hands. "You are broken and in pain, but strong and full of sensuality on the inside. The items enhance, they do not create. Your sexual arousal is not imposed, it is amplified, and such sensuality you have."

A tear ran down his cheek, dripping from the point of his beard. She noticed and was suddenly afraid. It was the brooch, speaking to her, telling her there was, not danger, but pain ahead for her. "My prince?"

He made no effort to wipe away the tears. "I will not see you again until Monday afternoon, when the moon and the winds align for the ceremony. You must leave work at noon and I will meet you at your vehicle. I can only leave you with this."

He leaned forward to kiss her and it was as if her head was swirling with two people's thoughts and feelings. No, not two, her feelings and another feminine voice in a language she didn't know, yet understood, encouraging her, guiding her, making her respond outside of her own self. The voice remained, even when she knew she was alone again and she whispered, "Thank you, grandmother."

For the rest of the weekend she was sad, as if anticipating bad news. Her love did not come, but he had said it would be that way, and even the brooch and the dresser were mostly silent. She looked at the carvings around the mirror on Sunday afternoon and saw several beads of water, as if it were crying.

Sunday night there was another dream. A beautiful woman with a sad face came to sit with her on a divan in the stone room. "What is the matter, child? You do not seem happy to be married."

"Grandmother, you do not seem happy for me. I'm confused, and my mind and heart are in turmoil."

"I am in pain for you, my child. The young prince truly loves you, and you have a trial ahead that will sorely test your love for him." A tear fell from the beautiful chin to the white, royal gown. "You must remember that he loves you. You are the first in 400 years that he has truly loved, and if you love him in return, you will make the sacrifice and move him toward the end of this curse."

Marie looked down. "I'm afraid, grandmother. For him, and for myself."

The older woman held Marie's head, then embraced her completely. A warm, sensuous feeling spread through Marie. "I have enjoyed my time with you, my dear. And I approve my grandson's choice. Be strong. I leave you with a gift."

Marie awoke covered in a light layer of sweat, her vagina throbbing in joy at the sensations administered by unseen hands. She felt more fulfilled than she had ever felt, stronger, sexier. She was going to lose weight and be the sexy wife she had seen in ... her grandmother? No, it was HIS grandmother. Marie looked at the bureau, at the brooch that sat on it, and she cried for herself as she realized there would be no future.

Monday morning, Marie went to work as she always did, and she worked hard as she always did. She spoke to nobody about leaving early and she tried not to attract attention. Her supervisor, who rumor said would be the replacement for Amos, commented how she seemed happier than she had in a while.

At lunchtime she left the office with just her purse and went to her car. The dream from the night before spun in her mind. She had a trial ahead, and if she truly loved her prince she would help move him to his freedom from the curse. Of course, he should have died hundreds of years ago. She did love him, wanted to not only help but also be with him, and yet she feared what would happen. She hoped his grandmother would help her when it was time.