Chapter Thirty Six - Finale

“There’s no smoking in the hangar, Ivan. The Americans will lose their shit if they catch you.”

Flight Captain Ivan Antonov grinned around the coffin nail hanging from his bottom lip and tossed the crumpled packet to his co-pilot. “If they catch us, I think you mean, Viktor.”

Viktor returned his cocky smile and tapped a cigarette out into his palm before accepting a light.

“Fuck ‘em. This is a private hangar and the refueling is done.” He cursed, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “They can save their whiny bullshit for the commercial section. The Boss pays a mint to park us on the quiet side of the tarmac.”

It didn’t need saying that their employer could afford the extortionate fees, even in an airport as provincial as Chicago International. A fine example of the young man’s immense affluence was sat not ten feet behind them in the aerodynamic form of a Bombardier Global 7000. The private jet was seventy-three million dollars of sleek, top-of-the-line aeronautical engineering with a decadent custom interior that boasted more rich leather, fine wood veneers, and stylish stonework than a London reform club.

The two stood in companionable silence, patiently puffing away and tapping ashes onto the cement floor. They knew on which side their bread was buttered. If the Boss–a spoiled manchild son of the Russian oligarchy with more rubles than sense–wanted to pay them to pilot his flying playpen across oceans and continents alike, they would gladly take his money and rack up the flying hours.

“We’re only in this dilapidated crap heap so he could indulge his delusions of being the second coming of Al Capone, you know?” Viktor sighed, looking out the open hanger doors and into the clear blue skies beyond with an airman’s yearning. “Probably spent the whole night touring old gin joints and snorting coke off an American whore’s fake titties.”

“Good for him. Our take-off window is in thirty minutes.” Ivan spat out a wad of yellowish flem and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Speaking of whores, how is her Grace today?”

Her Grace referred to Bohdana Bondarenko; an expatriated Ukrainian cover girl whose exquisite appearance, if not her whiplash-inducing temperament, had endeared her to their playboy wanna-be employer.

He described her as a “firecracker in the sack.” but they simply called her a bitch in the safe sound-proofed confines of the sealed cockpit.

“She’s in one of her foul moods, of course.” Viktor muttered under his breath, watching the trails of smoke dissipate in the air. “Why do you think I am out here with–”

“Where is he already?!”

As if on cue, the shrill banshee screech made both men bunch their shoulders in cringing defense. They shared a silent look of mutual sufferance before turning together with their hands upraised in a placating gesture.

“Peace, Miss Bondarenko.” Igor said in that pleading tone most parents reserved for a toddler throwing a fit in public. “There is still time before we are due to take flight.”

Bohdana loomed in the open passenger door–undoubtedly a rare bloom of refined beauty with her brilliantly stacked, leggy frame and flowing salon-styled hair that framed her fantastically photogenic face like curtains of midnight silk. She was wrapped sumptuously in a short, open-sided cocktail dress of brightest yellow that clung to her phenomenal figure like a long lost lover. It hung from her generous, round breasts down to the tops of her willowy thighs, barely concealing her scrumptious three-inch thigh gap and a heart-shaped behind sculpted by three lifetimes worth of yoga.

“If we are delayed another hour because that asshole is busy getting his dick wet–” She began with an imperious sniff, staring deadly daggers down at the two men before Viktor interrupted her imminent tirade with a relieved cry and a finger pointed towards a silver town car approaching through the open hanger doors…

“This must be the Boss now! All is well, Miss.” He assured Bohdana with the wide, relieved smile of a man who had just escaped the gallows. “Please, go wait for him inside and we will prepare for lift-off as soon as possible.”

With a parting harrumph the gorgeous ex-model flipped her long raven hair and stepped back inside. Neither man could tear their eyes from the sway of her stellar rear end. That one succulent feature alone could probably stop air traffic.

“What is that English saying about enjoying watching somebody leave?” Viktor muttered, dropping his cigarette and snubbing it out with the toe of his boot. “I could spend all day seeing her leave and watching her walk away.”

“Viktor, if the Boss was picked up yesterday by a black limousine,” Igor asked, sounding confused. “...who is that?”

The town car pulled to a stop a short distance away and a baggage truck Viktor hadn’t noticed cut in front of it to brake hard before the boarding ramp. Two pale-faced men in high visibility jumpsuits with the airport's logo stitched across the back jumped out and began grabbing large cardboard boxes and old trunks from the tray back. They didn’t speak, only grunting with effort and hurried the mismatched cargo up the stairs.

“Hey, what do you think you are doing?” Igor inquired in his halting english. “You have to clear anything going on board with us. Where’s your paperwork?”

The baggage handlers didn’t answer him and continued their work at a frankly breakneck pace as though deaf to his objections. Giving Viktor a worried look and getting a puzzled one in return, the two pilots began to jog towards the oddly silent workmen.

“There is no cause for alarm gentlemen.” A rich melodic voice called in accented Russian from the parked car, immediately capturing their attention like flies in honey. “Everything is in order, I will happily explain if you would spare me a minute of your valuable time.”

The passenger door was open and a long pair of impossibly silky legs capped in blood red leather stilettos slid gracefully out, followed by the rest of a breathtaking blonde attired in a sparkling diamond choker, and a stark white blazer dress that sheathed her hourglass figure, conforming to her spectacular curves as though it had been custom tailored by a panel of Milan’s hottest fashion designers.

But the most captivating thing about the ethereal vision was her dazzling gray eyes. They almost seemed to glow in the shade of the dimly lit hanger bay. Both men slowed to a halt and goggled at her as she arranged her mass of loose golden curls artfully over one shoulder and blasted them with a smile so radiant that it should have given them sunburn.

“M–Miss?” Igor managed to **** out a semi-coherent reply.

Viktor didn’t even attempt to speak in the presence of such resplendent beauty. He just gaped as a second, younger, blonde bombshell in white leather stilettos and a similar blazer dress of sanguine red exited the vehicle behind the first and joined her mother… cousin… sister maybe? The resemblance was stunning, both women were equally gorgeous with almost identically glamorous hair and mesmerizing gray eyes–though the feminine wonder in the white had an air of maturity and a few inches on the other in red.

“Go ahead, Dear.” The ageless woman spoke English to her younger reflection, giving her a reassuring pat on the back. “Do it just as I instructed and you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll do my best, Mommy!” She chirped back with an excited grin. “Keep Daddy’s handsome dick warm for me while I work.”

“You know I will. That’s my good girl.”

A deep feeling of unease settled in Viktor’s churning gut as the dizzying blonde fixed him to the floor with her hypnotic stare, sauntering over in a sexy catwalk stride with a devastatingly cute pout on her plump crimson lips.

“Heya flyboys, the two of you are the pilots for that super cool jet behind you, right?” She asked in a sweet little girl voice. “You know how to push all the right buttons and handle your joysticks?”

They both nodded and Viktor's mouth was suddenly bone dry. Her eyes grew even brighter at their mute response, almost sucking him into their silvery depths, and she squirmed with visible delight.

“That’s sooo~ great to hear, except you can’t really talk right now, can you?” The bewitching beauty giggled and it was the most wonderful sound either man had ever heard in their lives. Like the chiming of tiny bells.” That’s fine, I think it’s supposed to work like that. Isn’t this totally amazing?!”

Viktor and Igor nodded in tandem, hoping it would make the golden-haired angel giggle again but she seemed to recover herself and got back to business.

“So here’s the thing… my Daddy–he’s the biggest, strongest and hunkiest Lion Daddy there has ever been–wants to take me, Mommy and some of my friends to Vladivostok. That’s in Russia, I bet two fun guys like you know where it is…”

They nodded for a third time and almost wept in disappointment when the musical giggle didn’t grace their unworthy ears.

“...he has super important Daddy business with some bad men over there and wants to get to it pronto! Are you with me so far? Sorry, I don’t speak much Russian yet but Mommy is teaching me and I’m a very diligent student of all her lessons.”

“We understand.” Viktor croaked out. It was hard to speak with her so close and her fresh springtime scent bombarding his nostrils. His landing gear was already extending in his pants. “Vladivostok. We have enough fuel to make the trip, so long as there isn’t too much added weight in passengers and freight.”

Glancing briefly at Igor, he saw that the copilot's pupils were heavily dilated and his reddening face was beaded with perspiration. Viktor didn’t need to look down to know his friend would be tenting his uniform trousers too and he desperately wanted to be drowning in those beguiling gray orbs again anyway.

“That’s fine, just let us know on the way.” The cherry-lipped dream said, fondly stroking a circular series of dark indents on the nape of her slender neck. “It’s not a problem. We can stop for more fuel or jettison some deadweight… say, it only takes one of you to land the plane, doesn’t it?”

“Da–I mean, yes.”

“What the fuck is going on here? Viktor, you moron, who are all these people and what are they doing on our jet?!”

Viktor was actually thankful for Bohdana’s viper tongue for once, as it snapped him out of deciphering the worrying implications in the honeyed words echoing around his spinning skull.

With a herculean effort he dragged his attention up to the midnight-haired ex-model fuming prettily in the passenger door and sought fruitlessly for an explanation.

How was he supposed to tell her that they were about to fly a group of perfectly alluring gorgeous strangers across the Pacific Ocean?

“My goodness but you are a work of art, are you not?” The original blonde purred, climbing the boarding stairs with sinuous ease in her figure-hugging designer dress and precariously high heels. “I had almost forgotten how blessed the women of my homeland are in feminine charm and stately elegance.”

It seemed she had gathered more companions somewhere in the few seconds since her unexpected arrival. Namely; an overtly voluptuous young woman with flowing dark hair, olive skin and more curves than an alpine road squeezed into a fetishized french maids outfit, and a petite, peppermint-haired Asian bimbo in neon pink platform boots and a matching latex microdress that shoved her impractically huge, inflated cleavage right up to her tiny chin, almost smothering the vacantly smiling slut.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bohdana squawked indignantly, barring the entryway with her slight body. “Are you all fucking crazy or something? Go away!”

The full-bosomed Aphrodite paused on the final stair with a wry smile tugging at her ruby lips. “Oh, bless you for reminding me that even the most lovely of roses still have their thorns. My beloved fiance will be interested in meeting you.”

The seething Ukrainian’s narrowed eyes dropped to the woman’s hands in an involuntary response, being dragged down by the powerful metaphysical pull inherent to all new wedding rings. A pink diamond so large that it probably belonged in a museum, or atop a dragon's mythical horde, glittered in a bed of emeralds on her ring finger.

“What’s the hold up, Alina?” A deep masculine voice growled with all the rumbled warning of an approaching avalanche. “I want to be in the air and on our way already.”

Bohdana’s hands flew to her cheeks and the fury drained from her expression as a tall, rugged figure stepped out from the driver’s side of the town car and stalked up to the bottom step of the boarding ramp. In an instant her posture shifted from 'hellcat attack mode' to 'ready to swoon'.

The man was clad in a black button-up shirt that hugged his muscular chest and pulled taut over his broad shoulders. The V of his upper body led down into trim hips, banded in a brown leather belt holding up form-fitting tan chinos that probably cost as much as a month of rent in this mid-western backwater. His hair was a thick, tawny mane that hung down past a jaw that could double as an anvil.

…but it was his intense amber eyes that promised to melt the panties off any woman within a fifty foot radius. They shone like molten bronze and were slitted like a jungle cat.

“No delay, Master, simply an unexpected windfall for us.” The Goddess called Alina soothed in her accented english.

“I told you not to call me that, Love.” The dynamically built man groused as he climbed the stairs to wrap a brawny arm around the tittering blonde’s waist and yanked her up against his muscle bound chest. “You are my proud Lioness, not a simpering ****.”

“Then let me address you the way I yearn to address you. That is all I ask, my glorious Lion.”

“Alina…”

Bohdana certainly simpered and clutched at the door frame for support as the two engaged in some hot and heavy PDA, only an arms length away. The Latina maid and the Barbie-doll bimbo took that as their cue to slip around the amorously entwined couple to gently but firmly lead the Ukrainian beauty back into the jet’s interior and drop her into a plush leather seat.

“They’re going to be at it for a while.” The busty Latina maid complained as she buckled the seat belt around Bohdana’s tiny waist and pulled the nylon strap tight. “It’s a new game for them and Mistress never gets tired of baiting Master into bending her over the nearest horizontal surface and punish-fucking her silly. I’m so jealous…”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get into you soon.” The Asian bimbo remarked, toying with a raven lock of Bohdana’s hair. “Lion’s don’t have, like, a refractory thingy and that super stud can cum for days. More than enough to keep us all totally fed and dripping. It’s about to be, like, a super-duper splash zone in here. Just remember to produce some titty milk to keep him refreshed.”

Bohdana’s glazed eyes dropped to their prodigious chests and witnessed the moistening stains spreading around the points of the bullet-hard peaks poking through their scanty tops. Behind the two girls, the younger blonde guided Viktor and Igor up the center aisle towards the cockpit with beckoning hands and a brilliant glow in her gunmetal eyes.

She smelled like sweet vanilla and spring blossoms as the two skilled pilots followed her like hounds on a leash.

“We need to take-off soon, okay?” The enchanting nymphet crooned sweetly as she opened the cockpit door for the entranced aviators to shuffle inside, pitched tents leading the way like divining rods. “Just as soon as Daddy is finished punishing Mommy for her cheeky behavior. I wish it was me but I’m still learning, you know?”

“Yes, Mistress…” They droned in unison, filing into their flight seats and commencing pre-flight checks like a pair of glassy-eyed robots. “Anything you wish.”

“That’s so fucking hot!” She squirmed and giggled, running her hands up and down her sensational body, and rubbing at the mark on her neck. “I’m going to love my new life in Russia with Mommy and Daddy, I just know it! We’re gunning to achieve some unbelievable stuff. It’s going to be amazing.”

“Yes, Mistress…”

Back in the passenger cabin Levi took a heated moment to close and seal the passenger door before throwing Alina face first over a beige leather sofa. Using his clawed fingertips, he shredded the expensive dress from the small of her arched back down to her spreading knees and tore her shoestring thong off her lush wiggling hips.

“Get this plane moving!” He roared over her exhilarated gasps. “I’m going to fuck my future wife into the mile high club, then we’ll see about the rest of you after that.”

“Yes, Darling, yes! Take me however you want. Be rough with me, Master and pound my naughty wife pussy until I scream!”

The landing tires squeaked on the cement as the sleek aircraft rolled into motion, slowly picking up speed as it taxied out onto the private runway.

From inside the cabin came the ecstatic cries of a once lost little girl; now a beautiful, broken woman who had finally found her Lion and was headed home at long last.

A wayward child returning to the cold embrace of Mother Russia; who had no idea how badly she was about to be fucked.

Alina’s passionate wails of purest love and carnal devotion nearly drowned out the blaring jet engines as they took flight.

THE END

Author’s Note: It’s finally done! I’m really sad to be saying goodbye to Alina and Levi but they are off on their next grand adventure together. I need to say a HUGE thank you to the other amazing mind control authors who allowed me to cameo some of their own clever MC creations in this silly story…

Cheers to you Limerick and The Sympathetic Devil on the EMCSA. My sincerest thanks to Nadia Nightside, Kris P Kreme and Neil Bimbeau on Amazon/Kindle. You are all erotica superstars in my eyes and I wouldn’t be writing today if not for your exemplary examples.