The engine of the ATV roared to life, vibrating through the handlebars as I secured the last of the supply crates. Doc’s mechanic, a man whose face was a roadmap of grease and old scars, wiped his hands on a rag and gave the rack a final, testing tug.
"She’s loaded," the mechanic grunted, his voice barely audible over the howling wind outside the garage. "Doc says your first helper is prepped and waiting. Says it’s an old friend of yours."
I felt a spark of curiosity cut through the exhaustion. "An old friend? Who?"
The mechanic just offered a cryptic smirk. "You'll know him when you see him. Now get moving before the pass freezes over completely."
"Thanks for the help," I shouted back, kicking the vehicle into gear. I squeezed the throttle, and the ATV lurched forward, biting into the fresh powder as I began the long, treacherous trek toward the Kremlin.
The hours bled together into a blur of white and grey. The blizzard was relentless, a wall of stinging ice that reduced my world to the few feet illuminated by my headlights. By the time the fuel needle dipped dangerously toward the red, my bones felt brittle with cold. I spotted a dense line of timber—a natural break in the storm—and steered toward the shelter of the woods.
I was reaching for the spare fuel canisters when a massive figure emerged from the gloom. My heart hammered against my ribs until the light caught his face.
"Tom?" I gasped, my breath hitching in the frozen air.
"You look like a half-frozen human popsicle," Tom rumbled, his voice a warm anchor in the chaos. He didn't waste time with a long reunion; he grabbed the front winch of the ATV and began hauling it toward a small, sturdy cabin tucked behind an outcrop of rock. "Follow me. Hurry before the frost takes your toes."
Inside, the transition from the screaming wind to the crackling warmth of a wood stove was almost dizzying. The air smelled of cedar and dried tobacco. Tom didn't hesitate; he began shedding his heavy, frozen gear, his movements efficient and certain.
"I didn't think I'd make it to the next mile," I admitted, my teeth chattering as the heat hit my skin.
Tom looked at me, a glimmer of concern in his eyes. "You're lucky the woods were here. Get those wet things off before the chill settles in your bones."
The adrenaline of the journey was being replaced by a different kind of heat. I watched him, my old friend, his silhouette cast long against the log walls by the firelight. As he stripped down, I followed suit, my wet clothes hitting the floor in a heap. The mission was urgent, yes, but in this moment, the only thing that mattered was the ache in my body that the stove couldn't touch.
Tom paused, glancing back at me as I stood there, trembling not from the cold, but from a desperate, sudden need.
"What are you doing, woman?" he asked, his eyes darkening as they swept over me.
"I need to be fucked, Tom," I said, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. "I've been out there in the dark for so long. I need to feel something other than that fucking blizzard."
A slow, predatory grin spread across his face. "If that's what the Highness requires," he murmured, his voice thick with a sudden, heavy gravity. "Yes, Your Imperial Highness."
He crossed the room in two strides, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. He carried me to the heavy oak bed in the corner and tossed me onto the thick furs. When he finally stepped out of his boxers, I caught my breath. He was built like the mountains he lived in—his dick being larger, more imposing than even Doc’s.
The moment he joined me on the mattress, there was no more talking. He mounted me instantly, his weight a welcome pressure, and as he pushed inside of my waiting pussy, a sharp cry of pleasurable pain escaped my throat.
"Fuck me," I moaned, my fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back. "Don't stop, Tom. Don't you dare stop."
"I've got you," he growled against my ear, his pace already relentless. "I've got all the time in the world."
And he didn't stop. For the next thirty-six hours, the storm outside was forgotten. Tom moved with a tireless, rhythmic intensity that seemed to defy the limits of the human body. Every time I thought he was finished, every time I thought he had spent every drop of cum he possessed, he proved me wrong. He filled me again and again, driving me back into a state of screaming ecstasy.
Finally, Tom slowly withdrew, his eyes heavy with a bone-deep fatigue. He stumbled over to his old wooden rocking chair, sat down with a heavy sigh, and was asleep before the chair had even finished its first back-and-forth swing.
I stayed on the floor by the fireplace for a few moments, letting my breathing return to normal, before finally standing up. My body was sore but alive. I headed toward the bathroom to take a shower, but doubled back to where I had left my clothes by the door. I found my vest and reached into the inner pocket, feeling the crisp edges of the documents Doc’s mechanic had handed me.
I took them with me as I headed back to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Under the dim light of a single bulb, I spread the papers out. My heart skipped a beat as I read. The DNA results were undeniable—I was a Romanov, a direct descendant of Tsar Alexander III. Another page displayed my Russian ID alongside my home country identification. I was more than a homeless traveler right now; I was a Grand Duchess.
I knew I couldn't risk carrying these papers into the Kremlin. Someone was already trying to stop me, and if I were caught with these, I’d be dead before I could prove anything. I had to get this information to Sera’s contact inside the walls.
I rushed to Tom's small office and found an ancient, yellowed fax machine. In this weather, a transmission could take over an hour. I organized the pages, typed in the secure number, and hit 'send'. As the machine began its mechanical groaning, I retreated back to the bathroom to shower.
I kept the shower quick, mindful of the small hot water heater and knowing Tom would likely want a shower the moment he woke up. After drying off, I wrapped a towel around myself and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.
In the fridge, I found a container of meat stew. As soon as I opened it, the smell hit me—it was familiar. It was the same stew Tom had left for me a few days ago at the lean-to. I realized then that he had been looking out for me even before this blizzard. I didn't want to wake him by heating it up, so I ate it cold, the calories fueling my depleted system.
Once full, I found my bags, applied some deodorant, and got dressed. I hung my used towel and went back to Tom’s office. The machine had finished. A confirmation page sat in the tray, along with a brief, chilling reply: “Burn these immediately. Burn everything immediately.”
I gathered the documentation, the confirmation, and the response. I went to the living room, opened the fireplace grate, and tossed the papers into the dying embers. Within seconds, the papers were burned. I hung my wet traveling clothes near the fireplace and replaced the grate.
I knew I couldn't rest or sleep here. Someone was out there trying to prevent me from going to the Kremlin and proving who I just found out I was. I slipped outside into the biting cold to fuel up the ATV and refill the empty jerry cans. By the time I returned inside and washed my hands, Tom was finally stirring.
He sat up in his chair, looking at me with a strange, heavy expression. He looked almost embarrassed.
"What's wrong, Tom?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"I lost control," he muttered, rubbing his face. "I allowed myself to take advantage of a Grand Duchess. I should have shown more restraint."
"You did no such thing," I told him firmly. "I was more than a willing participant, Tom."
"Do you have to leave soon?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.
"I do," I said softly.
"Do you have time to fuck again?"
I didn't hesitate. I undressed right there in front of him. "I do. In which room would you like to fuck me?"
"My room," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he stood up.
He led the way back to the heavy oak bed. In no time, I was back on the furs, laying on my back with my legs spread wide. Tom mounted my pussy once more, his weight bearing down on me with a renewed, primal hunger.
We didn't stop for another thirty-six hours. Every chance he had—which was often—he came deep inside me. His balls felt heavy and full, and it seemed to take the entire day and a half for him to finally drain himself into my sore and swollen pussy. He was rougher this time, his hands and teeth roaming over me without restraint. He bit, pinched, and squeezed my tits during those long hours, his obsession with my body leaving and him leaving his mark. By the end of the session, my tits were completely covered in bruises and bite marks, a map of his desperate need for me.
As we were finally winding down, I told Tom that I didn't have the time to eat; I needed to get dressed and make my way to where I needed to go. But as I moved, I saw his dick get hard again, and his balls were filling visibly.
"I have a few loads of cum for you again," he rumbled, his voice like grinding stone.
I didn't argue. I got on all fours and he mounted my swollen pussy from behind. He rode me harder and faster than before, his every thrust vibrating through my entire frame. His loads of cum were thicker and heavier, flooding me until I felt completely filled. He grabbed my hips with bruising strength and utterly destroyed my pussy.
When I thought he was finally done, he pulled out, but instead of stopping, he pushed his dick into my ass. I screamed in pleasure, the new sensation overwhelming my senses.
"Oh god, Tom," I gasped, clutching the sheets. "Yes... right there."
"You want this, Highness?" he growled, his breath hot against my neck. "You want me to fill you up one last time?"
"I want it all," I choked out, bucking back against him.
He didn't need to be told twice. He fucked my ass as hard as he had just destroyed my pussy, his powerful thrusts driving deep into me. I took every one of them, relishing the way he dominated my body. He came in my ass often, and I relished the feeling of his warmth inside me, thick and heavy.
When his balls were finally empty, he pulled out and collapsed on the bed. "I love you," he whispered before immediately falling back into a deep sleep.
I got up, my body trembling and aching, and took another shower. I stood under the water and allowed his cum to pour out of me. Once clean, I dried my hair, braided it, and tied it into a neat bun at the base of my neck. I got dressed, gathered my things, and packed up the last of my gear.
I headed out to the ATV and hopped on. I pushed the machine as hard as I could, knowing I was already two days behind schedule. Being fucked the way I was by Tom was worth it, but the mission remained. I needed to reach the Kremlin safely—and I needed to ensure that once this was over, I could return home and never have to work for any government again.
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