The Cherry Blossom and the Snow - He was spring in bloom. She was winter untouched. [NSFW | Ex] [Zavaya - Verse]

[Zavaya]

The boat was idiotic, a level of obscenity Anastasiya "Nastya" Volkova really disliked. Her father, Mikhail had insisted though. It would be easy to defend and control. It was the only demand he had, if she wouldn't accept it, he wouldn't come. So now here she was, her twentieth birthday on a yacht the size of a small moon and her father shone through his absence. He said he had business to do, a last minute deal. It wasn't anything new to Nastya. Her dad was who he was. She knew what but had decided not to ask about it. Her mother had kept her out of that world as well as she could but a few months ago, her mother had died under suspicious circumstances.
Nastya was told it had been a heart attack but knowing her dad's reputation, she wasn't too sure. This doubt only increased when the records of her mother were nowhere to be found and everybody she asked about them were hiding something.

She was smart. Too smart for her own good. Having attended boarding schools in Switzerland and England, she was fluent in multiple languages but rarely spoke. The prime example of still waters running deep. She preferred the background. The shadows and the quiet life, enjoying simple things like hiking and playing the piano.

A large party on a boat was really not something she had wanted for her birthday and had she known her dad wouldn't even be there, she'd have arranged something else. Although she probably could have known. Now she was surrounded by people she barely knew and friends that were friends only because of her last name.

"Zayka!!"

A portly woman approached her and nearly squished the life out of Nastya's athletic frame as she hugged her.

"Do you eat? You're so skinny!"

"Aunt Ana.. So nice of you to come!"

The older lady made a gesture as if it was no big deal but Nastya knew it must have been a big deal, flying from Russia to Monte Carlo for a simple birthday party. Because there were other members from Russia as well, Nastya began to have the creeping suspicion that some of her family were using this evening for more than just celebrating a birthday.

"Nobody's called me Bunny in a long time though."

Nastya quickly added to her aunt. Hoping to get her message across that she was now an adult, not the hapless child she was when they still were all together in St. Petersburg. The portly lady quickly shuffled away into the crowd, having seen another person she obviously knew, leaving Anastasya relieved and alone for a brief moment.

Then she saw the guy who she had hoped would show up. She met him purely by chance a few weeks ago after he saved her years ago.

Nastya had been going out in Tokyo, celebrating a late 18th birthday. She was tipsy, way underdressed for the time of year and unknown to herself, getting a lot of attention. A blonde drunk Russian tourist. She had no idea just how easy a target she had been. Her driver had dropped her off at the hotel and in the brief moment it took him to park the car, Nastya had managed to escape his attention. Wondering the streets of a foreign city on her own, it didn't take long for a few guys to find her. Their intentions were immediately clear but there was nothing she could do about them. They had most of her clothes off when he appeared. Scared them away as if he was the devil himself and the poor guy who couldn't run away in time ended up worse than Nastya would have if they had been successful.

They had kept in contact for a while after that. She had asked him not to tell her father what had happened and he had agreed. The contact slowly faded until a few weeks ago when she met him in a restaurant in St. Petersburg. She had wasted no time inviting him to her birthday party, hoping he would come but not expecting him to make the trip to Monte Carlo for a random stranger he saved a few years ago.

"Hada!"

She snuck in front of him and smiled at him. He was tall, especially for an Asian, even a little bit taller than Nastya herself. But where she was willowy and lean, he was strong and even a little intimidating. She understood why the other three guys had dropped her and ran away upon seeing him.

"I'm so glad you could come. I might be in need of saving again."

She smiled at him, hugged him and flagged a waiter with a tray of champagne. After handing one to him, she took one herself and clinked her glass against his'.

"I hope your trip was good? I can't believe you came all the way out here for me."

 

[Verse]

Haeda Tsunoko wore a black suit, the red, transparent shirt buttoned all the way up. With the black tie cutting through, the patterns viewed through the blushing material were easily mistaken for part of the garment itself. On their first meeting, when he had beaten a triad member encroaching on Yakuza turf almost to death, Haeda had not had these marks. He had gotten in with the Yakuza, that night. He remembered it fondly, too.

He may be surrounded by glamour now, but his way here had been practical, tactical. A freight carrier by the manifest shown to the authorities of French. But the inside of the big plane was spacious, with benches to sit and nets to hold cargo. Most of their equipment was on-person, though, so there had been plenty of cubic meters to fill with whatever thoughts you had to keep you company all the way from Haneda, Tokyo. They'd gotten to Monte Carlo after touch down on Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris in the back of a semi. He left his friends in a safehouse while he got his tailoring done.

It wasn't like Haeda didn't like the finer things in life. It was partially why he did this. Little boy from the depopulated countryside of Japan, all dressed up in mainline Versace. But he did it mainly because it fanned worse sins in him than Vanity. Nasty a came to him. He liked her. He had taken comfort from talking to her, the last person he learned to know before his new life. She was a vision. He'd seen many pictures of her, even ones she hadn't sent, but she certainly beat them all in person. So full of life. So much potential in her flesh. He hugged her, one hand on the middle of her back and the other on the back of her neck, squeezing. It would look curt, but it would instill subtle dominance. That night, he had seen one of her breasts, when her clothes had been ripped. She was prettier then. He took the glass and smiled. She would be like that again very soon.

"I wouldn't miss it." he said, honestly. His complexion almost matched hers. His work was made mostly in the dark. His youth had his skin tight to his facial bones and his black eyes were well slept, though there was always something perverse murmuring behind them. His hair was barely long enough to be tied back, but tonight, he'd tried. There were frogs crawling up the side of this boat already, a birthday present to Russia from Japan. He drank all of the champagne in one go while the glass was still ringing from its small touch to hers. He discarded it on a passing silver tray, always so sure with his motions. He was rather focused on her, but still heard choked breaths from outside over the music, already. When he smiled the carbonation from the drink still sizzled on his incisors.

"How have you been, An-na-sta-si-ya?" Besides his accent and country typical deep voice, he also had some of the lingual mannerisms of his native tongue. She would know the sectioning of her name was familiar, playful. His stomach hurt when he looked her up and down and the tinge in his eyes vibrated through the barely held, polite facade - she looked so delectable. And soon, fully available to him. His present to himself. "You're so beautiful, tonight. Happy Birthday to me, eh?" He joked. He leaned in, first like he was going in for another hug, and then as though he'd take a kiss. He barley missed her lips so he could whisper in her ear.

"Tonight I'll finish what the triads started on you, in Tokyo." He whispered just as the first guard inside gargled at the door he was standing by.

 

[Zavaya]

She was confused at his words. Didn't know what they meant. Even when she heard the gargling and a woman scream did Nastya not connect the dots fully.
"Wh..."

A few of her own, or rather, her dad's guards, sprung into actio and a frenzy of gunshots, screaming and shattering glass erupted on the luxury vessel. It lasted a few moments, all of which Nastya was glued to the floor, watching people collapse and seeing Hada's icy look and demeanor. Her brain was quickly making sense of what he had said. He was going to rape her. Now that she had figured that out, the next question arose.

"Why... why are you doing this?"

It was probably a dumb question but it was the only one she had.

"Do you know who my father is? He will have you killed for this."

This was the first time ever Nastya used her father's name like that. Being a Volkov had been nothing but a burder her entire life but now she knew it might be her only way out of trouble. Or maybe... maybe they were after him? And all of Anastasya's birthday guests had just been collateral? Would they know he wasn't here?

The violence died out soon. She could see dead people, wounded people and others that were hiding. Surely people on the boats next to hers would have heard the gunshots and the shouting and would have called the police. Nastya knew enough about the world though that if these people had come here for her or her father, they weren't really scared of the police and had probably planned an escape already.

She turned her blue eyes to Hada again, pleading but not saying anything, stunned at what had just happened.

 

[Verse]

He should be looking at what the other men were doing, but they had practiced this enough that he wasn't all that worried. Like clockwork, people liked to say, and a clock is a percussive instrument, isn't it? To the beat of the violent scheme playing out, he just watched her as she crumbled to the floor. Seems they'd always ever see each other when she was in distress. To think that the first time he'd honestly just wanted to save a pretty thing because he could. He let his brothers do their work, but only had eyes for the laid-flat girl. How was she so sensitive to this, when it was to be her legacy?

Haeda unbuttoned his jacket to squat down to get closer to her. He lifted her head slowly as the war quieted around them, and the invaders started taking hostages, and ziptied them to chairs around the buffet table, where the food had been splattered and exploded many times over from the one-sided conflict. His hand was under her chin, so she was made to look at him. She was so gorgeous, when she was deep in distress. Her eyes were cold in color, but full of life. Last time it had just been from peril, but now there was betrayal on her pale features, too. It connected them. It made his actions more intimate. Only he could betray her like this.

"Your father is encroaching on a city that belongs to the Yakuza." It wasn't entirely true, as far as the world was concerned, but the port city of Yareli did cater mostly to the Yakuza, even if Triad and other syndicates were also present. The need for a strong military group under the Yakuza banner had birthed Haeda's band. And he had done well for his employers. Now they wanted more, and he had made it happen, in one fell swoop. Or at least he was about to.

He helped the birthday girl up, sure to pat her of the dust she had collected while down on the yacht floor. His hands stroked down her back and made sure to pat her behind thoroughly of the dust there. He even treated himself to a firm squeeze, as though to check just exactly what woman she'd grown up to, since he'd last been with her. It was her birthday, after all. Two cameras were mounted on tall tripods, and the black antennae on another stand would tell of their independent connectivity. The phone from one of her father's men was set into the collection of antennae, connecting directly to the encrypted chat the bratva kept in contact with.

As her father's face was shown on the big television where clips of her year had been playing, Haeda had her by the back of her neck, and stood her by the table. Even standing behind her, you could see most of him, given her shorter stature. He kissed her ontop of her head as the russian, tied men, erupted into cussing in their chairs. Haeda leaned down to nuzzle her cheek. He had his arm around her neck, but it wasn't too tight unless she struggled. "Say hello to your father, princess." he said.

And then his other hand tore downward, tearing her dress up.

 

[Zavaya]

She knew what the Yakuza was, which was invoking even more into her already nearly paralysed body. But because she had been kept out of her father's business, she had no idea what their relationship was. Nastya tried to remain calm and keep her composure but it wasn't easy, especially when her father appeared on the screen.

The guards and other people immediately began cursing and shouting, probably out of fear for her father but Nastya just stood and looked at him. Just as she was about to speak, she felt her dress tear and fall off her body, leaving her in just her bra and her panties. Around her, the men began to realise what was happening and their voices quieted down.

Finally a tear ran down Nastya's face. They were probably after her father, their intel suggesting he'd be he at his daughter's birthday. Had he known there was a threat? Suddenly she realised she couldn't put it past him. Especially seeing how calm her father looked. He was angry, of course he was but he didn't seem at all surprised and before she could even say something, her father was already adressing Hada behind her. It were insults, threats and something about him leaving Yareli on the condition that Hada and his men would leave his daughter and everybody on the boat. Otherwise there would be war.

"Dad... Please... Help me."

He then spoke in Russian and told her how a wolf had nothing to fear from rats, referring to their family crest, a wolf and then spoke to his men that if something where to happen to Nastya and her mother, he would personally execute all of them. Then, rather than waiting for an answer, her father shut down the connection, leaving Nastya again in the hands of her captor with nothing but a promise that Yareli was now his'.

Nastya turned to Hada, eyes big and pleading.

"Please.. Hada.. I know nothing about my father's business... please let us go.."

 

[Verse]

Haeda was excited to see her reaction when she was cut open partially for her own birthday guests. She did not disappoint. To think something so fine and delicate could come out of this family. He was sure that it was this softness that would be the end of the Wolf's reign in Yareli. Mikail's features were present in her face, so their blood connection was undoubted, and so it gave Haeda satisfaction to see her fretting like she did. He smiled to himself as he took in her healthy body, and her lovely, modest breasts in the bra. For a moment her stared at the triangle of cloth between her legs. He should make that geometric wonder his focus, very soon.

But his eating of her with his eyes was interrupted when Mikail himself appeared. It would have been easier to cut the head off this organization today, but this was more fun too. The men around erupted in their own language, but Haeda stayed calm, looking at the screen and its corresponding camera. Haeda nuzzled her temple possessively while her father said his piece. Even before the leader of the Volkova signed off, Haeda was groping her through the bra. Such natural little delights.

He listened to her sweet voice and the accent he had become quite fond off. He squeezed her breast harder. "Knowing nothing isn't going to help you. You think I should reward your ignorance?" he asked as he shoved her forward, toward the table suddenly. The men seated by it and made to watch, erupted in protests in their language. Haeda grinned and shrugged, like this was nothing unusual. His jacket was off, so he started unbuttoning his shirt as he came closer to her again. She was one heckuva consolation prize.

If she had caught her wits and tried to run, he'd simply swipe her arm up and push her back toward the table, but if she'd stayed there, confused or hurt, he'd be more gentle. Either way he would peel the bra and panties off her, tossing them to the side so all the generals of her father could see their princess in the nude. Haeda held her arms out to the side by their wrists, so they could see clearly.

"Look at you." he said into her ear for the others to hear, as well. "Look how small things grow in the Russian tundra." he mocked and his own, armed men laughed. "Fruits barely worth plucking." he continued to more of their mirth. One of the Volkova generals started shouting, red-faced and insulted. And he earned a knife in his stomach, high enough that it affected the air available for his screams. It shut the others up, at least. Haeda smelled her hair and sighed, pleased.

"Today is your birthday, Nastya." he said softly. "I think it'll be everything you wish for, in time." More booming laughter from his men as Haeda let go of her wrists, to see what she would do.

 

[Zavaya]

She didn't know where to look. Everywhere she looked were eyes upon her. Most of which she had never seen before. A few of her friends were in the back, as confused as she was. They had nothing to do with the family.

And then she was naked, fully naked in front of a crowd. She didn't say a word and allowed Haeda to manhandle her as he wanted. There was no point in struggling or fighting, her aggressor had made that very clear already.

His hands were on her body, he displayed her, like a prize. She knew what was going to happen. It didn't take a genius to figure that out. Back then he had saved her from this fate and now she'd fall to it. Except now there would be a crowd. Nastya felt the panic grow in the pit of her bare stomach. A sickening feeling that she wasn't sure she could fight.

When he let go of her arms, the young blonde woman didn't run. Nor did she plea or scream. She just stood still, in front of him and her birthday guests. She waited for what was to come, her modest bossom heaving clearly in panic and fear. Instead of looking at the people around her, Nastya only looked down. To her toes and the boarding of the yacht beneath them, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders and providing a very small amount of privacy.

 

[Verse]

He could already feel that he'd like Nastya's attitude when he moved her toward the table. She had been protected from the life her father led, and while that might be a blessing, it was overly confident of Mikhail, since it relied on him being able to protect her forever. Or, perhaps, the old patriarch hadn't thought that much of his daughter at all. Failed paternal instincts aside, it would likely be the man's downfall, given what plans Haeda had for the gorgeous girl. At least some of this, Mikhail should have foreseen. Kings are partially represented by their princesses, after all. Now the most fragile part of the Volkova kingdom was exposed, in more ways than one.

Her naked form was a lovely addition to the mayhem and death in the room, especially in the wake of her father on the screen. The cameras were still recording. He liked how taking her clothes of also took away what little power she had.

"What's the matter?" He asked the pretty, nude girl with the downcast blue eyes. Very deliberately, he stroked her hair back behind her ears to expose her demure expression. And then he stood behind her and put his hands over her breasts. They were wonderful to the touch, but small. "Is that all?" He asked, mocking, and more laughter pelted the girl's shame. Despite fairing better than the dying general, on the last of his gargles in the chair, she seemed utterly distressed. It was a good look at her, Haeda thought. "Just these small things?" He pulled at her nipples and nuzzled her ear possessively.

He let them go and grabbed her wrists and lifted her arms by them, to expose her to her hostile audience and the remainder of her guests. After a minute of showing her off he let go. She was subdued and obedient. "Get on the table. And sit." He said, voice steady. And if she was a good girl and did, "now spread your legs and use your fingers to spread your pussy so everyone gets a good look at exactly what kind of girl you've grown up to."

And, if she didn't obey, he grabbed her hair and shoved her toward the table anyway.

 

[Zavaya]

She didn't answer him or reply to his mocking of her breasts. Instead, she tried to run. Not physically, that was impossible, she knew that. But in her head she was frantically looking for a happy place to hide in. She knew she was Haeda's prize now and she knew she was probably just collateral. But if she was going to be used as an example, she'd sure as hell do her best not to break and keep her dignity. But because of how scared she was, she knew that would be difficult.

An ever so soft yelp escaped her lips as he pulled her nipples and then he spread her arms and she could feel the eyes boring into her. Nastya kept her eyes closed and tried to ignore the Japanese words, no doubt taunting and mocking her and the soft whimpers in Russian of her family and even the English of her friends.

Then she climbed on the table, too afraid to resist. She let him position her and then her cheeks flustered bright red at his order. A quick glance around the boat... All eyes still on her. She looked up and to her side, trying to find a hint of sympathy in Haeda's eyes.

"Please... Hada.. Don't.."

His icy look and lack of reply had Nastya's heart sink and she obeyed his order, carefully spreading her pussy with her fingers, cursing herself for having shaved that very morning.

 

[Verse]

She wasn't frantic. She tried to implode, instead. Her shoulders tried to hide her head and her silent demeanor hoped to make her invisible. Hard to be unseen when you're a beautiful young thing, naked, infront of a terrified audience of hostages, and a slew of testosterone rich captors. He let her marinate in her shame when he gave up her arms from being pulled. Her melodic noise when he punished her nipples and it only made him want to do it more. She was a rather good hostess, for entertaining all the guests.

Her closed eyes didn't do much to sway him. Neither did her pleading, even if he liked the sound of it. If begging helped, then he would be out of a job. Sure, he had formed an attachment during their correspondence, and she was dear to him because she marked a shift in his career that he was proud of, but the feelings weren't tender in that way. It only made him more prone to hurt her.

At least she knew to listen, and soon she sat there, with her pussy splayed open. She did endear herself to him by being obedient. Obedience was good look on any woman, but it was particularly flattering on the lithe, naked birthday girl. Almost everyone in the room gasped to see, and some of the guests were allowed to move to the side of the table where they could look right into her now spread womanhood.

Haeda came closer and had a pretty good inspection, himself. She was certainly a healthy specimen of a a russian female. His fingers came down, three of them rested just above her slit, petting the area where her triangle of pubes would have been. "You've done some grooming, haven't you? Did you know I would come?" The soldiers around them laughed loudly at that.

And then his fingers went lower, to the pink place she was keeping open. He petted the narrow entrance up and down, one finger stroking the hood back to grace her clit every time he stroked upward. "Daughters of Russia are such little whores." he muttered and the insulted men from there growled, and received whacks from rifle stocks for it. One of them stopped moving after that.

Cameras came around, held by two soldiers, and they filmed her face and cunt. Haeda remove his hand so they could record her fully. He grabbed her jaw to make her stare into one of the lenses. "Now tell them you're the slut daughter of Mikail Volkova, and that you're about to become a woman." he hissed into her ear before letting go.

 

[Zavaya]

Nastya already was a woman. Of course she had told nobody. The poor man's life would be in danger if she would have but this time, things would be different. It wasn't hard to see why. She was being invaded by Haeda. A man she thought was her friend. The fear of what was going to happen was bad but the betrayel was worse. That hurt her more than anything he could do to her tonight would ever do.

She had zoned out mostly. The people on the boat were gone. Nastya no longer registerd them. Even the men around her, filming her, were just.. white noise in an otherwise earily quiet scene. Haeda's voice echoing in her ears as she tried hard to zone him out as well. She didn't want to be here and while she was his captive now physically, mentally she tried her hardest not to be there.

His command though had to be obeyed. Nastya knew that. Her face was grabbed and turned and mentally she was back in her body. Naked and vulnerable and shivering in fear. For a moment she begged him with her eyes alone but the empty cold orbs that she saw held no emotion. No remorse, regret or sympathy. His mind was made up. There was nothing she could do to change that.

"I.. I'm Anastasya Volkova, daugher of Mikhail Volkov... We.. I.."

She swallowed, closed her eyes for a brief moment trying to think of what to say and then opened her eyes again.

"We got attacked. Haeda Tsunoko and his man captured me and killed some of the people on the Diva (the boat). He is going to rape me now. I'll become a woman at his hands."

NSFW

 

[Verse]

There were women who worked for the other syndicates, that Haeda encountered during his work for the Yakuza. There were even girls with no real affiliations, and they were still formidable and hard to break, and those who found themselves in bad situations who still pushed back. But he thought it spoke to Nastya's pedigree and quality that she was above that. In a way, it was a good thing she respected and valued the efforts he and his men had gone through to give her this kind of birthday celebration. The point of those women were to be strong. But strong was not what he sought after in Nastya.

The way Nastya broke was perfect. He had seen tendencies of it when they kept contact. Good girl. In a way, he respected her for keeping her inner workings on par with her perfectly frail looks. She was gorgeous naked and he would make sure she shared it with the world that he moved within.

He stood by her while she kept her cunt open and spoke to the camera. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Now, that's a good birthday girl." he said and then pulled back, shook her a little by the grip he had on her jaw, and then finally let go.

He unzipped his black pants. They were the kind to cling to him even when opened. The cock that rolled out was massive, heavy, bowed. But it was filling up steadily. The men who belonged to her father and were still alive cussed at seeing the fat thing rise, its purple head eventually pushed all the way out of the foreskin. He grabbed her hair and bent her hair down to make her look at it.

"Touch it." he said. He pulled harder at her hair to underline her serious situation. Touching and jerking his cock would be the smallest of her troubles with it, tonight.

 

[Zavaya]

It was strange and shocking in a way how quickly she had come to terms with what was going to happen. The human brain is a marvellously complicated thing. The way it tries to protect the human is truly amazing. Nastya was just doing as she was told. She accepted all the consequences and pain and humiliation. Her only goal was to be alive when Haeda would let her go.

As she was forced to buckle forwards, all Nastya felt was relief. She no longer had to look at the guests and they wouldn't see her. At least not like that. What she did see was Haeda's cock. Big, bulging... painful. It would fit, obviously it would but she couldn't imagine the pain it would cost her and him as well for that matter. She wasn't a virgin, not by a long shot but she was on the tighter side. Obviously Nastya had no way of knowing if her previous boyfriends were right. She had no comparing material but she believed them.

Carefully she moved her hand off the edge of the table she had grabbed as he shook her by her chin and wrapped her long sleek fingers around the cock. It was warm, fleshy and felt like any other cock. Except this one would be inside of her soon. And not out of her free will.

She shivered, visibly as a tear ran down her cheek.

Nastya put her other hand on the cock as well and began to stroke it rhytmically.

 

[Verse]

He noticed her propensity for obedience. He had suspected it, and maybe his run-in with her before and their continued contact after had made him biased toward this plan. It also helped that Nastya, his Nastya, was beautiful. And she became even more so when she so easily molded after her circumstances. She wasn't the kind of princess who threw fits and became difficult. But he hadn't expected this level of pliability. In endeared her to him, and while it made him happier, he didn't know if it was to her benefit. This birthday was one she would always remember, though, that was for sure.

With her head lowered, she looked just right. Her hair draped a bit and the pose was naturally more demure and submissive. Even her loyals could lie, but they couldn't truly say that women didn't look better when bowing like this. He smelled her hair and thought the scent of distressed sweat on her scalp was better than the underlying artificial perfumes. Pretty girls should always be afraid and made to comply. He could feel her eyes on his cock, and the limb swelled further for her attention.

He inhaled softly when she reached those small fingers toward his cock. The difference was staggering. He coughed quietly when she finally held on, and groaned, aroused to have the birthday girl jerking him in front of all her guests. He stroked the back of her neck and was sure she would rather keep staring at his cock than face the reality of her audience.

He cussed quietly when she added her second hand. "That's it." She wasn't particularly good, but the novelty of the situation was making up for her inexperience. He saw the light reflected off her tear and slid his finger up her cheekbone to collect the moisture. He wiped it on the head of his cock.

"Isn't this a better way to spend your special day?" He asked cruelly. "Add some more." Fluids. He knew she couldn't cry enough to make a difference, so she should know he meant for her to spit on his cock. "Here, I'll help." He said and pulled her hair back so she'd look at him. He shoved three fingers into her mouth, scraping at her throat and then her tongue to collect saliva. He brought the wealth of moisture on his digits to his cock, helping her out. Her father's men writhed in their seats at seeing their boss's daughter take such care of another man's cock.

"You want me to fuck you, so everyone can see what a slut Mikail raised? Or do you want to save your pussy and use your mouth?" He offered, and her men erupted in their mother tongue, hateful protests and obvious observations that it was a trick.