Category: NonConsent/Reluctance Stories

The Keeping of Lena Ch. 03

by ablondegoddess©

Hi Lit friends!

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, the next few installments of KOL are going to be truly "Non-Con", so please feel free to skip ahead to the sweeter treats once I have them posted, if you still like this story but the dark stuff isn't quite your cup tea :). There will be a few more "mini" chapters of Karl and Ava posted in Romance, before Lena and Renz eventually wrap up in the promised HEA.

However...for those of you who do enjoy reading rough sex, spankings, bondage, and some mild anal play (evidently this needs a warning too as I received a very offended anonymous email regarding Ch. 2...please don't hate me Anon, I'm still new to Literotica etiquette!), then do read on ;).

Hope you enjoy!


B xoxo


Aleksandr knew that there was nothing Ilise hated quite as much as weakness.

It didn't matter if it was weakness of the heart, or wit, or body, or reason. Frailty was a tragic vice she unwaveringly held no patience for.

It was also largely why she'd never desired to become a mother. To Ilise, children were the weakest creatures of all.

Ilise functioned with an incredible strength of form and of mind, one of the primary reasons he'd become so infatuated with her. As well-bred as she was well-educated, she could argue amongst the most distinguished of academic men on a variety of topics, shaming them to submission, just to turn around and charm her inferiors with her infectious feminine allure. She possessed exceptional strength of body, a decorated golfer, cyclist, fencer, and archer, with a reputation for merciless competition against female and male opponents alike.

Ilise held herself to the highest standards of perfection of health, wealth, intellect, and even leisure, and she preferred to surround herself in similar company.

Which is why it was no surprise to Aleksandr that after his brother had shot him, Ilise's erotic passions for him had quickly simmered to distant fondness, before eventually cooling to near disdain. His body still hadn't healed, and Ilise was beyond annoyed.

Caring for a man, even a man she loved, was akin to torture for a woman like her.

He absently surveyed the room that had become his new prison, the bedroom of an ostentatious penthouse a mere short carriage ride away from the castle that bore his family name. Expecting no less than the absolute best everywhere she traveled, Ilise had liberally spent his money enhancing their surroundings to suit her specific tastes. And because Aleksandr loved her, and remained grateful for her reluctant care, he was more than eager to finance her whims to her heart's content.

Unimpressed with the original furnishings of the hotel, she'd ordered ornate carpets sourced from the Near East, new silk furniture from Paris, and paintings by celebrated Flemish artists. As a child, Ilise had loved nothing more than playing in the rolling fields of flowers in the meadows of Jagdschloss Schade, her family's summer palace, so Aleksandr ensured deliveries of fresh exotic blooms each morning before she awakened.

But the power of his indulgence did little to sway her increasingly foul temper, and irritation with his weakness. He knew he was no longer a lover to her, barely even a pet, for her disgust for him grew ever more apparent each time she left him alone, locked in the bedroom, for longer and longer stretches of time each day.

And just like a dog, Aleksandr waited for her in pathetic, whining sorrow, salivating and ecstatic whenever she returned to him.

She'd been gone for an especially long time today. After she'd brought his brother's pitiful plaything Lena into their suite, against his advice, Ilise had disappeared right along with the girl, and hadn't yet returned.

It was now well after midnight, and Aleksandr lay helplessly in bed. A part of him wanted to go out and look for her, but he hadn't yet the strength to carry his own weight for longer than a moment or two. He'd come to depend on Ilise for almost everything during his recovery, especially after she'd decided she no longer wanted to stay in München.

With the empire presuming him dead, Ilise had truly become the beginning and end of his entire world. The life of Ludovic Wolfenbarger was lost to him forever.

Not that he entirely minded. There was a part of him that was more than eager to permanently distance himself from the names the barbaric Johann Wolfenbarger had given him. Those names had always felt like a façade, even a curse, for his paternal heritage had infected him far more than it fortified him.

Even as a boy, he'd always secretly known himself by the names his mother had given him. His middle names. Aleksandr after her father, and Rikhard after her brother. His identity had never truly been that of a Wolfenbarger, for he'd been born a bastard, and raised without privilege.

Still, there was no denying that there were certain advantages to the life of wealthy industrialist Ludovic Wolfenbarger. Advantages, he was slowly realizing, he'd never fully appreciated.

There was his beautiful wife Ava. The quick-witted, sharp-tongued, stunning blonde angel, wholly loved by the only parts of himself that were still good.

There was his precious daughter Odette Alexandra, who held his blackened heart in her chubby fingers, a charming little cherub happiest when surrounded by baby animals.

And then, of course, there was his unborn child...

Aleksandr briefly wondered if there was a way he could contact Ava, to find out about the baby, but he quickly banished the thought before his heart could react. His family was permanently lost to him now.

He couldn't long for something he'd relinquished his claim to.

And all for Ilise.

Feeling suddenly forlorn, Aleksandr strained to reach an end table, intent to help himself to another dose of morphine. Ilise had found a doctor to keep him well supplied with the drug, secretly, and she paid him generously with her daily outings.

He prepared the injection quickly, slapping the crook of his arm in impatience as he waited for his lifelines to rise. His hand shook in greedy tremors as he brought the needle closer to his scabbed and bruised skin, a truly pathetic sight.

Perhaps his body craved the drug more than he actually needed it.

With a reluctant sigh, Aleksandr replaced the needle on the table, and collapsed back into bed. Addiction was for the weak.

And Ilise hated the weak.

With a brief sweat, followed by chills, and then another short fever, the hunger for morphine began to slowly wane by a small fraction.

But his favorite distraction soon shifted his attention away from his shameful cravings. It was the delicate sound of expensive heeled shoes against the marble foyer of the suite.

Ilise had returned.

Aleksandr couldn't wait. He reached for his cane and struggled out of bed, desperate to see her.

"What are you doing? Get back into bed," Ilise chastised. Her garnet gown hugged her ample curves deliciously, and he couldn't tamper the automatic rise in his arousal her presence always inspired.

Ilise was a drug even more powerful than morphine, a dangerous aphrodisiac he'd been helplessly addicted to for years now. Her form was so destructively erotic, even when fully clothed, that whenever he saw her, he could think of little else than falling to his knees and worshipping her with his body, before shamelessly begging her for his own release.

"I wanted to see you before I retire for the night," Aleksandr admitted. He'd tried to sound strong, assertive the way she liked, but the subtle roll in her eyes indicated that she found him pathetic.

"We can't risk you being seen, Alek. Especially not now. There are some...complications," Ilise said. He watched her, as if in a trance, as she slowly pulled off her black lace gloves and matching shawl, fully exposing her creamy alabaster shoulders and delicate hands of porcelain.

His eyes remained transfixed on her overwhelmingly sensual form as she walked to her tea room, pouring herself a larger than normal glass of nightly sherry.

"What kinds of complications, Ilise?" he asked. He held his breath as he approached where she sat, knuckles whitening around his cane. He didn't dare reveal to Ilise just how much pain he was in. He wasn't sure what ached more - the bullet wounds in his chest, or the full-body starvation for morphine.

"Your brother. He's having me followed. It's going to make our plans much more difficult." Gleaming curls fell from her stylish coiffure as she quickly tilted her head, swallowing her generous glass of sherry in one, healthy gulp, with no concern for ladylike propriety.

He adored that about her.

Aleksandr lowered himself into the seat in front of her, struggling to hide his tremors as he fondly caressed her knee.

Ilise subtly shifted away from him, her disgust apparent, and poured herself another glass of sherry.

"Abandon this scheme, Ilise. We can start a new life together. New York perhaps? We can take the girls and begin anew in the Americas. Those uncivilized colonials are most gluttonous for flesh — we'll double, triple our fortune off of their easy lusts. Far from Renz, and that stupid maid—"

"That stupid maid is the key to exacting our vengeance. You know as well as I that nothing can harm Renz more than Lena at this point. Especially if she is with child."

Aleksandr sighed. Ilise's obsession with Renz and Lena was truly growing tiresome.

Lena had been a fun little kitten to play with in his brothel, undoubtedly. For a girl so innocent and fragile, she'd still maintained a fierce will to live. She hadn't broken as quickly as the other women before her, which made for quite an entertaining surprise.

And her naked body was spectacular. Not enough to stir his loins, for he preferred his women far more voluptuous. But Lena, she was tiny, pale and delicate, her frame slight and limbs ever slighter. She'd made a perfect test specimen for his violent curiosities, for she bruised easily, bled freely, and her little bones were like glass.

But even as he'd held her in the brothel, Aleksandr knew he would have given her back to Renz. Eventually. Once he bored of his curiosities on her body, and earned as much from her young flesh as possible, he certainly would have returned a broken, scarred Lena to Schloss Wolfenbarger. He would have let her live, satisfied to know that Renz would be devastated, simply by witnessing Lena's defilement.

His brother was a selfish man, who hated when others played with his toys.

To his surprise, however, the Jäger had actually hunted her and found her, and in only four days. Despite the foolish Erich's initial revelations, it was obvious that Lena was much more than the latest object of his brother's sexual obsession.

She held real, destructive power in her dainty body. She could reduce a wealthy, sophisticated aristocrat to a feral, rabid animal. Renz had become truly savage, attacking his colleagues, shooting him...and all to save the little maid.

He'd looked more like their father during his fits of violent mania than ever before.

Renz was not the civilized elder brother he'd envied for his entire life. His superior breeding, his education, his fortune...all of those adornments had become meaningless.

By kidnapping Lena, and forcing Renz to find her, Aleksandr had successfully unlocked that secret inheritance, the insidious infection, that he too had gotten from the vile Johann. Unlike Renz, Aleksandr had long accepted the family curse, and had eventually embraced it, utilizing that incurable sickness to most prosperous advantage.

But his elder, fairer brother had resisted the temptation for years, rejecting him and his enterprise as barbaric and perverse.

Until, of course, Renz had found the pathetic Lena in the brothel, and Aleksandr finally saw it in his brother's eyes.

That same rage.

That same lust for violence.

He'd proven that Renz was no better than he was.

Aleksandr no longer had any need to torture Lena, for Renz would undoubtedly do so himself. Renz had the appetite, just as he did, and their father before them.

It was only a matter of time before it consumed him.

Aleksandr had already destroyed his brother in the most clever way possible, by allowing him to destroy himself and all he loved.

Therefore, he no longer had any use for Lena.

"Why can't we just forget about them? You really shouldn't have brought Lena here today," Aleksandr muttered eventually.

Ilise finished her second glass, and a youthful rouge began to blossom in her cheeks.

"I humbly disagree, my love. Tell me, aren't you a little curious about your dear wife Ava? About your new baby?" Ilise asked.

Aleksandr immediately looked downward, not wanting to reveal to Ilise just how much he longed to hear about the child he'd never get to hold.

"So she gave birth, I take it?" Aleksandr asked noncommittally. He could hear Ilise pouring another glass of sherry.

"Oh yes. A baby boy," Ava replied.

A rush of elation flooded through his veins, even stronger than the effect of the morphine. It was so powerful, that Aleksandr was no longer aware of his pain.

Ava had given him a son.

He had a male heir.

Suddenly, his disdain for his paternal family names began to evolve into longing, and deep regret.

He'd sacrificed more than his life already lived as Ludovic Wolfenbarger.

He'd also sacrificed his future.

"How is Ava? How is the babe?" Aleksandr asked, before he could help himself. Ilise paused to take a bite of some leftover fruits from his meal earlier that evening, her face calm and whimsical.

"Not well, as it seems. Your child was born dead," she said simply.

It was as if he'd been shot again, for the pain that suddenly struck through his chest was just as powerful and debilitating as the bullets.

His child.

His son...

"If Renz hadn't shot you, Ava would never have felt the need to travel to Schloss Wolfenbarger. She would have stayed and waited for you, as she always did. The stress of her journey...that is what killed your child. Renz needs to be punished for what he has done, for what he continues to do. You know that man destroys everything he touches," Ilise said.

Aleksandr gripped his cane even harder, until the crown cut deeply into his palm, hard enough to split his skin.

"What are you going to do?" Aleksandr asked. Ilise smiled sweetly.

"Let's just say...I gave a very special gift to his whore today."





Lena burrowed in the blankets and pillows of Renz's bed, instinctively avoiding the cold as she slept. Her deep slumber granted her body much needed rest, freeing her mind to conjure images, sounds, and sensations from a much simpler, peaceful time.

She felt calmed by the salty scent of the sea, the rolling waves as gentle as they were powerful. But a sudden rush of frigid ocean water rose to her ankles, and Lena shrieked in surprise, kicking the water away fearfully.

But two loving arms held her close against a warm, soft body, protecting her from the sudden rise of the current.

The arms felt safe.

The body smelled of jasmine.

Lena looked down at her feet, curious to find that they were much smaller than normal. Puzzled, she turned her head to view her protector, and was surprised to find her own reflection.

But Lena soon realized it wasn't truly her. Their faces were similar, undoubtedly, but this woman was far more beautiful. She was blonde while Lena was brunette, pale while Lena was tanned. She had high, prominent cheekbones and a small, slightly upturned nose, giving her an almost elf-like appearance. Her large, long lashed eyes were impossibly blue, a vibrant blend of varying marine hues that seemed almost painted by the very ocean in front of them.

"No need to fear the water, my little Lena love. You'll soon learn to swim," the woman said. Her voice was melodious, playful, and she spoke as if she were singing.

Lena felt inclined to touch the woman's hair. It was so long and pretty, blowing through the wind in delicate waves, as golden and bright as sunshine. She reached for it, but her fingers were too short and small, and the strands escaped her grasp.

Frustrated, Lena closed her eyes, suddenly overcome with the urge to cry.

But when she opened her eyes again, the woman was gone. The beach was gone. She could still smell the scent of the sea, but it was mixed with something else.

Something sweet.

"Chambermaids aren't supposed to be out in the fields, child!" said the voice of the woman who had raised her. Lena bashfully turned around, and found a frustrated Marie scowling down at her.

Lena gulped, her tongue suddenly overflowing with the sweet and tart juices of rich fruits.

"Were you eating Master Sterling's grapes, Lena?" Marie asked. Lena quickly shook her head, but she could feel blush rising in her overly stuffed cheeks, giving away her lie.

Marie's frown darkened, and she quickly gripped Lena's wrist and gave her a firm swat on her open palm, hard enough to surprise her, but not hard enough to hurt.

"These grapes are for the Master's wine, Lena. They are not for the bellies of greedy little girls!" Marie scolded.

Lena lowered her head in shame, but moments later, Marie reached out and embraced her, holding Lena's head fondly against her stomach.

"I know you meant no harm, child. I know the fruits are sweet. But you must be careful — sometimes sweets can poison you too."

Marie's kind voice dropped to something low and threatening, and Lena backed away from her, fearful of her warning.

But to her surprise, the vineyards suddenly disappeared, and she stood alone, and taller, in the Crown suite of Sterling Manor.

Her heart began to race as she slowly surveyed the room. A large, angry tiger pelt growled at her from the floor, menacing even in its stillness. A violent storm howled in a frame above the imposing bed, lightning threatening to strike her with each roaring clap of thunder.

But suddenly, the utter chaos of the room was stilled when another, far more powerful body entered. She could feel him before she could see him, his presence so commanding even the elements yielded to his will. Lena slowly raised her head, and her heart caught in her throat as her eyes finally met the handsome guest in white tie, standing in the doorframe.

His lips curved into a seductive smile, sending flutters of conflicting sensation all throughout her body. A part of her wanted to run and hide, but an equally powerful part of her wanted to drop to her knees in enthusiastic acquiescence, fully aware and accepting of whatever wicked things this handsome demon would inflict upon her.

He was forbidden fruit personified, entirely sin, as enticing as he was threatening. With his midnight black hair and moonlight silver eyes, he frightened her just as much as he aroused her. His body was titanic and muscular, dwarfing her frail form with ease. But even the grave awareness that he could severely harm her caused her body to do the strangest things.

It was sickening complex within her, and before she could help it, Lena began to cry in utter shame.

She wanted him to turn away and leave her alone.

...She also wanted to feel him throw her on the bed and strip her of her uniform.

Just what was wrong with her?

"Now why is a girl as lovely as you crying?" Renz asked.

Lena promptly awakened with a fearful jolt, echoes of her dream continuing to haunt her as she lay alone in Renz's bed. The air felt startlingly crisp, so much so that with each frantic breath, Lena felt as if her lungs were being frozen.

To her horror, it took only a few moments of heavy breathing for Lena's painful coughs to agitate her torso in familiar shakes. She groaned inwardly. Perhaps her lungs weren't quite as healed as Karl had originally thought.

Category: NonConsent/Reluctance Stories