Back to Blog
Sophie lark the bully5/20/2023 I make my way over to the food, intending to eat, until I see fresh strawberry pie with a shortbread crust. A table along the wall groans under the weight of a mountain of crab legs, caviar, boiled quail eggs, fern salad, sizzling sprats, and suckling pig. The next hour is spent drinking and socializing. When they want to be entertained, they bring in the ballerinas. When the Bratva want to fuck, they visit their own brothels. Like geishas, they offer the highest levels of cultured feminine charm. These are no chorus dancers, but the prima ballerinas, expected to drink and dance and socialize with the Bratva. Every one is tall and slim, their shining hair piled high on their heads. Twenty elegant women swarm through, dressed in sparkling gowns and diamond jewelry. The double doors at the end of the private suite swing open. “We have other entertainment planned for the evening.” “No need for that, boys,” Abram says in a bored tone. “I’d be glad to give you a lesson in my skills right now,” he barks, the veneer of civility between us completely rubbed away.
0 Comments
Read More
Leave a Reply. |