24: Kayla's Submission

03:22:46...

Pavel Tokarev realised, somewhere, in the back of his mind, that he was in danger of losing control of himself. So he did what he had been trained to do. He took a step back, and took several deep breaths, mentally measuring each intake. And then he reviewed the situation.

Kayla Hassan was standing, bent over a table, legs zip-tied apart to the table legs, with her trousers around her ankles. A long stream of drool had rolled out of her mouth and onto the polished tabletop, and more was forming around her ball-gagged mouth. Her hands were bound behind her back. She had stopped struggling, mostly, and simply lay where he had tied her, limp and unyielding. Pavel marvelled at the luck that had sent her his way. Kayla, even in the state she was in now, looked ravishing. And that was precisely what he intended to do to her.

Pavel stepped forward, and yanked up on her panties. Kayla squealed into the gag as the fabric slipped into her butt crack, and she involuntarily raised her hips. Pavel, as if on cue, brought his hand down onto her left buttock, leaving a mark. She yelped. He yanked up again on the panties, and this time hit her right cheek when she bucked. Kayla moaned into the gag in pain. Pavel smiled coldly. He was only getting started.

Several spanks later, when Kayla had all but stopped resisting again, Pavel decided to change up his game. Taking hold of Kayla's panties, he pulled down instead of up, exposing the fullness of her beautiful ass. Pavel did not stop to admire the sight, but instead pulled the spare belt he had deliberately laid beside him on the chair and brought it up. Kayla lay flat, looking forwards, and was therefore completely taken by surprise when Pavel brought the belt down with punishing force onto her arse. There was a moment, just enough time for her nerves to register, and then she screamed into the gag. Pavel took a step back. His stroke had left a throbbing welt across Kayla's backside. She continued to moan and scream, and began thrashing around in the bondage, trying to get free. Pavel let her struggle for a few moments, then swooped in, holding her down with one hand while his other cupped her head, forcing her to look at him.

"Silence," he said, almost drawling the word out. Kayla whimpered once, and was quiet. "Now you've seen what I am capable of, I suggest you don't struggle. Don't fight it. Any of it." Pavel released her head, and reached behind it to undo the red ball-gag straps. As he pulled the gag out, the drool which had accumulated behind it ran out of Kayla's mouth and across the table. Pavel tut-tutted. "Dirty girl. All over the table. I think you'll have to clean that up." He spoke as if to a child. Kayla, not daring to disobey her captor, leant forward and began lapping up her own spit. As she was about finished, Pavel stopped her.

"Don't swallow. Just swill it around in your mouth." Kayla did as she was bid. Pavel ordered "Now spit it back out," and she complied. Pavel watched as the spittle ran out of the President's daughter's mouth and back onto the table. This was all part of the plan, all part of the breaking process.

This was something Pavel had always done well. His own self-control, combined with his detachment, had meant that he had been the right man for these sorts of jobs, especially back during his time in Red Square. Once he had left there, he had done odd jobs around and about, but two skills he had acquired early in life had kept returning. His abilities as an assassin, and his skills at 'managing' people. He enjoyed the work with the desperate ones the most. Women like Dana Walsh, with nothing to lose, and women like Kayla Hassan, who was helpless in a much more straightforward and simple way.

Pavel watched as the last dregs of Kayla's spit drooled out onto the table. The girl craned her neck to look back at him, almost as if to ask what she should do next. Inwardly, he smiled. Then he walked, slowly, round to the front of the table, so she could see him by looking forwards. Her head followed his progress.

Pavel paused, for dramatic effect, and then bent down to Kayla's level. "Lick it up and swallow it. All of it." Kayla held his gaze, bewildered, questioning, perhaps thinking of rebelling, for just a moment. It was a moment too long. Pavel leant in, and pushed her head into the pool of spittle, using her hair as a handle to wipe her face back and forth in the drool. He punctuated each swipe of his hand and her head with a word. "I. Said. Lick. It. Up!" Kayla whimpered again. Pavel released her head, and she hastily, and almost eagerly, began licking up the spit. Pavel walked back around the table and smacked her on the ass again for encouragement. She moaned but

continued licking up her drool.

Once Kayla was finished in her task, Pavel moved on to the next stage of his program. He grabbed Kayla's hair and pulled her head back. With his other hand, he fished about in a tan brown bag he had brought with him into the room. Out of it, as Kayla saw out of the corner of one eye, he pulled what looked like a hook with a ball on one end and a rope on the other. Kayla's eyes widened. Surely her captor couldn't be thinking to put that...anywhere on her. Pavel, knowing exactly what she was thinking, simply turned to look at her. Kayla tried to shake her head, but his tight grip on her hair stopped her. Instead, she seemed to come out of shock suddenly and began begging.

"Please. Please, no, don't do this. Please. What do you want from me, please noOOOOO!" Kayla's pleadings rose to a shriek as Pavel rammed the pre-lubricated hook in a well-practised manoeuvre straight into her ass. The ball filled her anus, making her feel bloated and full even as Pavel was tying the rope on the other end of the hook to her hair. When he let go, Kayla was stuck, unable to move her head for fear of twisting the anal hook. Instead, she continued her pleadings with Pavel as he walked back around to face her, until he placed

one finger across her lips.

"Shh. No talking, or I will pull on that hook. And it will not be pleasant for you, girl." Kayla stopped, instead staring pleadingly into Pavel's unflinching, emotionless eyes. No response. Pavel simply began slowly unbuckling his belt. Kayla sobbed as Pavel removed the belt, and placed it obviously close to his hand on the table, before undoing and then pulling down his trousers and pants. Kayla stared at his cock nervously. Pavel moved closer. "Open up, girl." Kayla, terrified, opened her mouth up, wide. Pavel gestured to his erect cock. "Suck it. Now. You have done this before, we have talked to Tarin. So do it. No hesitations." The Russian spoke matter-of-factly, and quietly, but in his words there was enough of a threat that Kayla didn't even dare flinch when Pavel thrust forward into her gaping mouth.

He was not as large as Tarin, that was some small mercy, but the almost military thrusts he made into her mouth, as if Pavel was a man waging a war on her throat, made Kayla almost gag. Pavel was enjoying himself, at least as much as he ever did in this line of work. As he heard the girl below nearly choking, it was not the pain or the suffering he was causing, or even the pleasure which he was gaining which really turned him on, but the power. It was all about the power play. For Pavel, it was not the actual oral sex which he enjoyed, but the knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted to Kayla Hassan's helpless body. For now that knowledge, and the poor girl sucking him off would have been quite enough. But he had a timescale to work to. He needed to move on in the process of breaking the President's daughter.

Allowing himself one last thrust into Kayla's mouth, Pavel withdrew. Kayla, lying face down, began to breathe easy again. Pavel's thrusts had had the side effect of moving Kayla's ass hook about, which had caused the girl no end of discomfort. Now he was finished, she sighed, audibly. Pavel suddenly, quickly, leaned in and, freeing the rope from her hair, pulled up on the hook. Kayla screamed. However much his spankings and yanking of her panties had been painful, this was something else. Kayla couldn't honestly tell whether this was agony or ecstasy, but whatever

she felt it was overwhelming.

Pavel watched as the girl thrashed around like a fish on a hook. She was sobbing something incoherent, so he slapped her around the face to make her shut up. Kayla lapsed into silence, broken only by her sniffing. Pavel waited a moment longer, then released the hook. Kayla's ass dropped back down, hook still inside, and she exhaled loudly in relief. Pavel walked back round behind her. He removed the hook, and then took hold of Kayla's ass and pulled it up, one hand under each buttock. Kayla allowed him to do this, too worn out and frightened to fight back.

Pavel slapped each ass cheek in turn, eliciting a moan both times, and then he entered her pussy from behind. Pavel was pleased, if not totally surprised, to find her moist inside. This didn't mean she was enjoying it, so much as it was her body reacting naturally to outside stimuli beyond her control. On the other hand, she probably didn't know this. Pavel smacked her arse again. "You slut. You don't think I can feel you are soaking wet? You are enjoying this. Whore! What would your father say?" Kayla began sobbing again.

She knew she was wet, she had felt it between her legs as Pavel had facefucked her. But...was she a slut? If this turned her on? Kayla flushed red with embarrassment even as Pavel began thrusting into her pussy. He groaned a little in pleasure, the first real outward sign he had shown that he was enjoying what he was doing to her. Her pussy spasmed around his quickly moving cock, and she began to cry in embarrassment. The humiliation stage of Pavel's breaking was all but complete.

Pavel pulled out and stepped back, gathering up his trousers from around his ankles and throwing them off out of the way. In front of him, Kayla continued to cry, oblivious to what else was happening. Pavel, picking up some cutters from his tan bag, bent down and quickly cut both zip ties around Kayla's legs. He straightened up, grabbed her by shoulder and her still bound arms, and dragged her over to one of the chairs in the corner. Kayla didn't resist. Pavel could tell he had almost broken her. He slapped her face a few times to get her to focus, and then put one foot up on the chair she sat on, and thrust his balls into her face.

"Quickly, you slut. Suck on them. Suck now!" Kayla continued to cry, so Pavel stepped back and ripped open her shirt, exposing her breasts. He reached into the tan bag, and pulled out his pair of nipple clamps. Pavel snapped one onto Kayla's left boob. This certainly focussed her. Kayla screamed again, and thrashed around a little, but Pavel held her into the chair. He looked her full in the face.

"Okay, bitch, either you suck or the other one goes on the other side, and we have a bit of fun. Your choice." Kayla continued to thrash, so Pavel carried out his threat and snapped the right clamp onto the right boob. He knew this was only the last desperate resistance before the break. Kayla screamed again, and then went very quiet. Pavel, slowly, deliberately, put his foot up on her chair, and moved his balls in front of her face. Kayla looked up at him, pleading with her eyes...and then something seemed to give inside her and she mutely and meekly leant forward, mouth open, to suck. As her wet mouth closed around both his balls, Pavel leaned back and groaned in pleasure, not even trying to hide it.

Kayla worked his balls in her mouth, running her tongue over them unbidden. Pavel threw back his head. This was why he was still in the job. The shooting, the killing, that was all secondary. The breaking, and the power, oh god the power...that was what it was all about. To know he could look down and see the daughter of a President licking his balls, all because he had told her to, was almost more than even his rigid self control could take.

Pavel, for the fourth time, pulled back. His balls popped from Kayla's mouth with a wet smack, and she looked up at him, as if to anticipate what would come next. Pavel leaned back in and pulled on the chain between her nipple clamps, prompting a squeal from the girl. She twisted, but couldn't get away, and instead had to lean in to try and take the pressure off. Pavel kept the pressure on just long enough to let them both know who exactly had all the power, then he released the chain, and Kayla leant back in relief, sighing.

Pavel pulled her out of the chair, and pushed her down onto the ground, face down. He rolled her over, and removed both nipple clamps. As each one came off, Kayla groaned as the blood rushed back into her throbbing nipples. Pavel wasted no time, but rolled her back over, and spread her legs. Kayla's blood ran cold when she realised what he was about to do. Despite the pain, despite the beatings and spankings, despite all Pavel's 'ministrations', Kayla still mustered the courage, or perhaps the fear, to plead with him.

"Please, no, not there, please, anywhere else, please, I'll fuck you, please, I'll do anything, I-" Kayla's frantic bargaining attempts were shut off as Pavel clamped his hand over her mouth, silencing her. She thrashed around a little, and Pavel, in some small frustration that he had another little 'last minute resistance' to deal with, simply whipped her with the nipple clamps chain on her still red and sore arse. Kayla's entire pelvis rocked up in reaction to the stroke. Pavel threw his weight on top of her and pinned her down, before whispering in her ear:

"You ever do anything like that, anything again...you're going to have a bad day. Okay slut?" Kayla, terrified, nodded. Pavel got off her, and released her mouth. Kayla had about three seconds to steel herself, and then Pavel affixed one of the nipple clamps to her left pussy lip, and then the other clamp onto her right lip. Kayla bucked again, but Pavel held her down. She whined, she whimpered, she squealed, but Pavel just held her. Eventually, Kayla's protests of pain subsided, and she just lay with him holding her, limp again. Pavel hoisted her up into a crouch.

"Squat, bitch. Stay squatted." Kayla obeyed. "Now, move around. Stay squatted down." The girl moved around, with her pussy not far enough off the ground to stop the chain dragging on the floor behind her. Kayla circled Pavel, staying squatted, while Pavel admired his handiwork. After two or three circulations, the chain caught on a carpet edge, and Kayla squealed again. It hurt, so very much. All of her hurt. Her tits, her arse, her face, and now especially her pussy. Kayla snapped.

She wrestled with the ropes around her arms, she screamed, she thrashed about, trying to get the clamps off. Pavel didn't even wait a second. He dived on top of her, pinning her down again. Her struggles were useless. Pavel rolled her onto her back, and removed the clamps from her pussy. He began to slap her across the face, once, twice, three times. Between cries of pain, Kayla begged him to stop.

"Please, please don't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Pavel hit her once more, and then reached down and pulled her legs apart. He entered her for a second time, this time from the front. Kayla was even wetter than before, and Pavel wasted no time in mocking and humiliating her for it, even as he thrust in and out of her.

"You slut! You're nothing but a whore, aren't you? You love it, don't you? You're so wet. Admit it! Say it!" Pavel slapped her. "Say it! Say 'I'm a whore'! Say 'Kayla Hassan is a whore'!" Kayla began crying again, but Pavel hit her and she stopped. "SAY IT!" he shouted at her. Choking back the sobs, Kayla looked at him, utterly broken.

"I am a whore. Kayla Hassan is a whore. I love it. I'm a slut and I love it. I like being tied up, and fucked, and slapped, and spanked, and everything. I am Slut Kayla. Call me Slut Kayla! Please, I beg you, sir, master." He had done it. He had broken her. Pavel almost snarled in pleasure. This was more than even he had been expecting this early. Kayla Hassan appeared to have fallen so far, so fast. And what was as enjoyable for him was that he was currently balls-deep inside her, fucking her wet cunt. Pavel thrust faster and faster, and as Kayla's battered but sopping pussy exploded around his cock, he had never felt more alive. Kayla moaned in genuine pleasure as she came, and Pavel didn't need more than a few more thrusts before he, too, ejaculated inside her.

Pavel lay there for a moment or so, then he pulled out, and hoisted the newly broken Kayla Hassan to her feet. Kayla stood there, mute and stationary, as Pavel rebuttoned her shirt, and then fetched her panties and trousers, redressing her into a comparatively modest state, though the bruises on her face and her mussed hair showed that something had happened. Pavel lead her to a chair, then gathered up his 'tools', and, walking over to the door, pulled on his own pants and trousers. He knocked, three times, and a pause, then twice again. There was a moment of silence, and then several men entered the room. One looked at him.

"Did you get her to talk?" he asked. Pavel nodded.

"She'll say anything you want her to, now." The other man nodded in pleasure. Kayla, in the chair, said nothing. She stared straight ahead. Pavel picked up his tan bag, and began to leave. As he walked out of the door, he could hear the men who had entered talking to Kayla. One handed her a card.

"You will read this, on camera," he said. The other men began setting up recording equipment. Kayla just nodded. Pavel's work there was evidently finished. He slipped out of the hotel room door, and shut it firmly behind him.

Pavel Tokarev began walking down the hall, just another man in a fairly casual suit, with another bag by his side.

03:26:52...