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The Power of Devotion
By Patrick Hepburn
PART ONE
INTRODUCTION
To understand the unsettling story of Alessia and Jurij you have to know a little about their history and that of their country.
Alessia came into the world on May 11, 1892, in a small village of the western part of the Fore-Caucasus, close to the city of Yekaterinodar; the first child of the officer Igor Vasiliev and his wife Larissa. And she was also their last as Larissa died soon after she had given birth to Alessia.
Alessia grew up to be a beautiful girl and her cautious father hired private teachers to ensure she received an education only a few women in that era possessed.
But when Alessia was twelve years old, Igor had to fight for his country in the Russo-Japanese War and - although he adored his daughter more than anything in the world - he was forced to send Alessia into the custody of his friends Mr. and Mrs. Vasiliev.
Alessia's new foster parents owned a poultry farm with lots of chickens that kept them very busy during the day and Alessia spent a most of her time with her new step-brothers Michael and Andre; her beauty and relative maturity ensuring both of the boys, being two years younger, were remained in awe of their new sister. It not being long until Alessia found out how she could exploit the growing interest of her step-brothers to her own advantage.
It just needed a little teasing and a little coldness on her part to make them take over all the chores she found so annoying, while she still played the caring role of the older sister for her credulous foster parents.
Two years passed in this way, until Alessia received an official letter informing her of the honourable death of her father during an important military offensive against the Japanese forces.
As a war orphan, Alessia now felt that she was totally on her own now. More and more she gave herself over to the dark and bitchy side of her character but, though they suffered terribly under Alessia's escalating tyranny, her step-brothers never dared to squeal.
Upon reaching the age of fifteen, Alessia tasted for the first time the sweetness of total power when she even persuaded her step-brothers to regularly tribute all their pocket-money to her.
Without having any money on their own, her step-brothers needed to earn Alessia's high priced favours before they could buy themselves so much as a book of adventure stories. Which was when, one day, Alessia decided her favour would cost Michael a box of chocolates.
At this time a box of chocolates cost five roubles - which was around the equivalent of 39 loaves of bread. Therefore the only way for Michael to let Alessia have her box of chocolates was to introduce her to his beautiful classmate Jurij Alexandrovich, who was the son of the owner of the local chocolate factory.
As Jurij turned out to be quite a smart and entertaining companion, Alessia allowed him to take her out and not two hours later Jurij was already head over heels in love with her and, as Alessia loved to be loved, it was the start of an exciting affair.
For at least a couple of days Jurij was probably the happiest man in Russia.
But while Jurij's heart unconditionally adored Alessia, Jurij's mind kept reminding him Alessia was just a member of the general crowd; while he represented one of the most reputable families around Yekaterinodar. There was just no way the relationship between him and Alessia could be officially announced without hurting the pride of his high principled parents.
But Alessia's spirit wasn't meant for the ungraceful role of a secret concubine and she passionately cursed Jurij's cowardliness.
In the end though, she had to realize that Jurij would never bite the bullet and abandoned him with a courageous face-slap, leaving behind an utterly distraught ex-boyfriend.
Since that day Alessia and Jurij had never heard again of each other and it wasn’t long before the dark clouds of the "Great War" (nowadays known as the First World War) came over Europe. While Alessia served her country at the local division of the Russian Red Cross, it was a matter of course for Jurij to take part in the real combat.
COMING HOME
After the second year of war Tsarist Russia started to experience famine and economic collapse. The demoralized Russian Army had suffered severe military setbacks and many soldiers had deserted the front lines, the peoples’ dissatisfaction with their Tsar Nicholas II and his policy of continuing the war grew until, finally, it erupted in the two revolutions of 1917.
The Bolsheviks took over political control and, to relieve the unsettled nation from the attacks of its external enemies, signed a peace treaty with the Central Powers on March 3, 1918, at Brest-Litovsk.
The article VIII of this treaty stated that prisoners of war of both sides would be released to return to their homeland.
This was the article transforming the destiny of Jurij Alexandrovich, who had stayed 723 dismal days in German war imprisonment since Russia's unsuccessful counter offensive in 1916. And so it was, that on the foggy morning of April 15, 1918, Jurij trudged east down the endless road to the mansion of his parents.
Cursing and grimacing, Jurij hunched his neck deeper into the collar of his shabby coat.
It didn't help much.
The cold wind of the Russian April was insistent, plucking at his clothes and forcing its way inside their protective layers.
With his pack on his back and his hands jammed deep into his pockets Jurij implored the heavens for a ride and, soon enough, his prayers were answered when the carriage of his father passed by.
Having not seen his son in four years it was an incredible hearty reunion.
A FATAL VISIT
Jurij's safe return from this horrible war was commemorated with a great family celebration lasting more than three days and, for a short period, it seemed as if love, peace and harmony finally had found their way into the life of the Alexandrovich's.
It was not to last.
On the afternoon of April 18, barely three days later, an ominous troop of around ten mounted soldiers appeared on the horizon and it became clear, as they approached the mansion of the Alexandrovich family, that they were a small force of the young Red Army.
Slowly, as they drew closer, Jurij recognized the silhouette of a woman moving along the riders.
It wasn't!
It couldn’t be!
Could it?
No!, he told himself, that would be nearly impossible.
The impossible proving all too possible as recognition of the mysterious woman hit him like a thunderbolt:
Alessia!
Her voluminous brown hair was pinned up above a slender neck and pale shoulders and high cheekbones gave her face a sharp, somewhat forbidding, aspect; while, underneath her wool coat, she wore a tight white blouse accompanied by a silken neck scarf that flew in the wind as she rode.
Her legs, Jurij noticed, drinking in the sight of her, were clasped in brown trousers and knee high black leather boots.
All the memories of his unfulfilled love for the girl flooded back into Jurij's mind as he realised it had been ten years since he had seen her for the last time - knowing now just how much he had repressed the fact of his former girlfriend’s beauty.
With much effort, he tried to compose himself as the group came closer – and found it was impossible to stop his heart from beating wildly.
At that same moment Jurij was also recognized by this woman – though, in truth, Alessia had been looking out for him, knowing he would be there and, when such proved the case, experiencing those same feelings of unfulfilled lust in her loins she had known when they had been together.
Once more she started to think about all of the times they had spent together and how she had cried at that final night after slapping his face.
If he only he hadn’t been so stubborn and so damn high and mighty about his so superior family and her lack of the status required to join it.
A cruel smile crept over her face as she began to think about how stubborn and high and mighty she intended to be towards him in return.
"I am looking for Pjodr Alexandrovich?" the troop-leader shouted at them.
"Yes - that's me! And who are you?" Jurij's father answered in a brave voice – even if his shivering revealed his insecurity.
"I am Vladimir Maximow - major of the Red Army! We have heard that you are hiding rifles from the revolutionary fighters. Is that true?"
"Who says that?"
"Just answer my question!"
"We have nothing to do with any weapons or any revolution. We just want to be left alone in peace."
"The Red Army fights for the peace of all people Russia. Not just for yours! So we won't leave until you hand us over the rifles. Have I made myself clear?"
"Get lost!"
Without paying any more attention to the stubbornness of Jurij's father, Vladimir Maximow turned to his soldiers and ordered them to search the house.
Slowly Jurij's gaze wandered to Alessia.
He had caught the eye of his ex-lover as well and she sent him a slight smile, but, before Jurij could say anything, Alessia had placed her gloved forefinger over her smirking lips - indicating to him their acquaintance was better kept secret.
Jurij was confused but decided that it might be better to play along; the expression on Alessia's face not offering anything by way of an explanation as she continued to smile – knowing, as she did, that this was just the beginning of a joyful game of female revenge she had in mind for her disloyal ex-lover.
He quietly watched from the corner of his eye, admiring how Alessia let her slender body slide down from her horse's back to follow her comrades into his home while Jurij and his defenceless family stayed outside – watched carefully by the steely eyes of Vladimir Maximow.
The sound of rough boot-steps and smashed boxes drifted out of the house and Jurij clenched his teeth - breathless.
Then, after what seemed an endless amount of time, the soldiers finally moved out with their arms full of rifles.
Jurij was flabbergasted.
Where had his father had hidden so many weapons? And why hadn't he confessed his possession to the major of the Red Army???
Jurij stole a frightened glimpse at Vladimir Maximow. He was smoking a relaxing cigar on the back of his horse - his expression one of total indifference.
Suddenly Alessia appeared.
With the cool and controlled bearing of a lady of the ruling classes, she stepped in front of Vladimir Maximow and saluted.
"We have seized twenty-five rifles, sir!" she reported as Jurij's spellbound eyes watched her push a streak of hair from her forehead to rest behind her ears with the bewitching cuteness that made his heart hers in the first place.
"Thank you, comrade Alessia Vasilieva!" the major exclaimed, before his almighty look turned to Jurij's father.
"It's such a pity that you had to lie to me. Now I'm forced to reprimand you."
Slowly he took his gun out of his belt and aimed at Pjodr Alexandrovich.
Then everything happened very fast.
A shot rang out and blood shot out of Pjodr's left leg as he staggered off balance and tumbled to the ground with a thud.
There was a split second of deathly silence then, before it was broken by Pjodr’s cries of agony - the bullet, it seemed, had shattered his left knee.
While everybody stood in shock, the Major himself was totally unimpressed by Pjodr’s terrible cries.
Turning to his troop, he ordered:
"Back into saddle. We move on."
As Alessia mounted her horse, she once more looked down at Jurij.
Now though, a mischievous smile of satisfaction had appeared on her face and, unsure of its meaning, Jurij decided to smile back.
Within half a minute Vladimir Maximow, his troop, and Alessia were out of sight and every member of Jurij's family automatically ran to help Pjodr.
Every member except Jurij, who was too confused about the impact of the latest events; lost in his thoughts as he went back into the house to find a scarf lying on his table.
Bewildered by its meaning, Jurij let his fingertips rake through its silken cloth, before raising it close enough to take in its light scent.
Alessia's desirable perfume pervaded his senses and no sooner had he closed his eyes, than he saw Alessia's ambiguous smile; heard her soft voice; smelt her musky arousal and felt the maddening enticement of her tender touch.
Standing in his own home, he once more he relived the scenes of her sweet seduction and her bitter rejection.
Until he noticed a book was missing from his shelf.
His diary!
Alessia has taken the diary about his life between 1907-1914.
The diary in which he had so openly admitted all his innermost feelings of effervescent adoration and desperate heartache inspired by his Alessia. Thoughts, feelings, and secret private thoughts that had now been captured by his former love.
Feelings of utter exposure washed over Jurij's defeated soul.
Until, strangely, different feelings of a new inner connection with his former girlfriend rushed through him; feelings, unlike their last connection, that seemed somehow… inevitable.
ASKING FOR A FAVOR
The next day, the family council of the Alexandrovich's decided that life around Yekaterinodar had become just too dangerous and that a quiet place was needed to cure the severe injury of Pjodr's knee.
The summer was approaching and it was decided they would temporarily move into their secondary home - a small dacha on the outskirts of the Caucasus Mountains.
Unfortunately the question of whether to take along the piano of Jurij's sister, or the hunting equipment of his cousin, wasn't that easy to settle and soon a passionate controversy between both of them broke out, while Jurij's dreams slowly wandered back to his ex-girlfriend.
Now she had acquired his diary Alessia had become an unwanted –if integral- confidant of his most private thoughts. Even at that very moment, he thought, his former girlfriend’s delicate fingers could be flipping through the pages revealing his innermost secrets and desires. Those same delicate fingers he would have given everything he owned for the opportunity to touch once more.
His thoughts were interrupted by his mother's sudden interjection:
"What about you, Jurij?"
"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" asked Jurij, startled from his day-dreams.
"I just argued that you're the fittest member of our family. Plus you are the most experienced in combat. So you would be the perfect choice for defending our property against pillagers during our absence!"
Jurij didn't have to think twice; knowing this sudden prospect of occupying the family house on his own would give him the perfect opportunity to resume his relations with Alessia.
"I see it as my duty to protect the Alexandrovich's family during these troubled times." Jurij announced.
And so it was decided.
The family departed very early the next morning with tearful farewells that never seem to end, but finally Jurij was alone and he immediately saddled his horse for the fifteen kilometre ride to the second gymnasium of Yekaterinodar.
Jurij's cousin had told him that this gymnasium had recently become local Red Army headquarter and it would, therefore, be the perfect place to start his search for Alessia, claim his diary back and maybe spark back to life their previous relationship.
Forty five minutes later Jurij stood at the entrance door of the headquarters, inner resolve, by now, replaced by a growing nervousness.
Taking a deep breath to muster up the rest of his courage, he forced his legs to enter the building.
The gymnasium, he saw instantly, had been totally converted into a provisional army camp, entrance hall crowded with armed revolutionists.
Fortunately Jurij quickly discovered a small, basically-appointed reception area at the other side of the hall where, behind a desk, stood a graceful woman with a Bolshevik armband who seemed to be some kind of a porter.
Within a few big steps Jurij had approached her desk:
"Good morning. I would like to see Alessia Vasilieva."
"And you are?" the porter mumbled, obviously bothered by Jurij's demand.
"Oh - sorry! My name would be Jurij Alexandrovich. I came to clarify a personal matter."
"Wait here. I am going to forward your request to Commander Vasilieva!"
"Commander Vasilieva??"
"Yes. Comrade Vasilieva was promoted to the rank of Commander yesterday. Our former Commander Maximow left the city this morning to eliminate counter-revolutionary activities in the Northern Caucasus."
Looking him over, the porter chuckled, as if at some private joke.
Before Jurij could even assimilate the full meaning of either her merriment or her surprising news, the porter had already left him and exited through a door behind her.
As he stared at her departing back, it seemed strange to Jurij, after all this time, that a single wooden frame was the only obstacle separating him from his adored Alessia.
Just the same, he knew all he could do for now was to take a seat and wait for the return of the porter, unable as he did so to prevent himself overhearing the rude talk of some Bolshevik soldiers standing nearby, as they amused themselves by commenting aloud on whether it was preferable to shoot, hang or bayonet counter-revolutionists.
Suddenly Jurij felt very uneasy; sensitive to the appearance he might offer to them. Did he look too bourgeois?
Were his clothes of adequate inferiority to represent a revolutionary spirit?
"Commander Vasilieva is expecting you now, Jurij Alexandrovich!"
The sudden calling of his name caused Jurij to nearly leap from his chair and, flashing a glance at the wall-clock, he realized that a full ten minutes had passed since his entry into the gymnasium.
"Please follow me." the porter ordered, already walking away.
Hastily Jurij followed, tracing her footsteps her through several large rooms until they arrived, finally, at a cosy office room in the back of the house; a room that had once been the well-furnished office of a slightly corrupt school-director and one in which. Alessia now was relaxing herself on a noble leather-chair with plush cushions, shining a red apple, distractedly.
Having read the diary, she was well aware of what his presence meant.
The crucial question she asked herself was whether he would be freely willing to subject himself to her rule or if he would fight every step of the way.
So it was a curious smile that filled her face as she noticed Jurij's entry:
"Good morning Jurij. It's so nice to see you again."
"The pleasure is mine,” Jurij began before voicing his request without preamble, “I just came to ask you about my diary, which I am missing since our last encounter."
The true reason for Jurij’s rather brusque forwardness was his inability to resist Alessia's false pretences once she had her chance to lull him with her possessive charms.
Alessia, on the other hand, was visibly disappointed by this direct approach.
So let down, in fact, she did not trouble herself to make a direct answer and instead turned to the porter:
"Have you already assured yourself that my guest came unarmed, comrade?"
Startled, the porter looked up and swallowed dryly, before she had to admit sheepishly:
"N-Not yet, Commander Vasilieva."
"Then do it NOW!" came the daunting order from Alessia.
"Yes, Commander Vasilieva!" the porter blurted, careful to keep her eyes averted for fear of the anger she might see in Alessia's.
"Would you please remove your clothes for a security check." the porter dutifully muttered at Jurij.
Jurij just stared at her, stunned; unable to believe what was going on here.
Quizzically he looked at Alessia, but her gaze remained elsewhere.
For a few more seconds he stood motionless, trying to decide whether he should leave the room under protest or obey the presumptuous and demeaning demand Alessia had compelled the porter to deliver to him.
Finally he decided for the second option; noticing, the moment he started to slip off his jacket, Alessia’s attention returned to him and she broke into a smile….
The full story can be found on www.femdomcave.com
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