Someone Elses Daughter

by Jack Norman

  The woman grasped the arm of one of the girls, pulling her from the huddle and setting her apart in the centre of the pen. She turned the pretty blonde girl firstly to one side and then the other, displaying the naked flesh to the onlookers. It was hard to say whether the tremors that shook the girl's pert breasts were caused by fear or by the early morning chill in the cavernous livestock shed.

  “Your name?” the woman asked.

  “Kirsten.”

  The woman reached into her pocket and took out a wad of passports. She sorted through them. “Ah, Kirsten is Swedish. We have a passport for Kirsten. 22 years old. Good.”

  The woman pushed the girl to the watching men, and she stumbled against the rails. One of the men reached to steady her and he idly cupped a hand beneath one of her breasts as he asked, “You are selling them individually or as a job lot?”

  “I don’t care which. I don’t have valid travel documents for many of them.” The woman pulled Anna from the huddle of nude girls and manoeuvred her to the centre of the pen. She smacked Anna’s arms aside and reached to cruelly pinch Anna’s erect right nipple. “This one needs to be moved quickly.”

  “Why is that?”

  “My father will pay for my return.”

  There was a chuckle from the watching men.

  “She is very pretty, and has a powerful father too. Tattooed on the shoulder - a nice blue rose.” The woman reached to grasp Anna's left buttock and her fingers painfully gripped the flesh, turning her as the cheeks were prized apart. “Walk nicely for the gentlemen, Anna.”

  “What?”

  “Are you stupid, girl? Show yourself to the buyers.” She gave Anna's bare arse a sharp slap, spurring her to movement. She told the men: “You will need to move her out of the country, but you can make a good profit.”

  Anna moved numbly, awkwardly, hands hanging limply by her sides as she walked round the straw-strewn cobbles of the cattle pen. The woman dragged another girl forward and demanded her name. Within minutes, the six terrified young women were all parading self-consciously nude around the pen, walking under the appraising eyes of the men who leaned on the bars of the pen.

  III

  Meanwhile Nina waited fretfully in Vadim Kasharin’s apartment somewhere in old Moscow. Dawn had broken by the time he eventually arrived. He nodded towards her as he entered. “So you made it back here.”

  “What’s happened to Anna and Renata? Are they alright?”

  Kasharin smiled wearily and nodded. “They’re as well as they’ll ever be, I suppose. They’re already on their way to Odessa with some Albanians. You had a lucky escape, Nina.”

  “My God! I have to raise the alarm. Maybe it’s not too late.”

  Nina was caught completely unawares by the backhanded blow that caught her across her ears. She staggered back, her eyes wide and uncomprehending as she placed the palm of her hand against her cheek. “Now look what you made me do,” Kasharin said, half-apologetically. “I told you, Nina. You must tell nobody what happened. If you breathe a word, both of your friends, you, me, Eva... we’ll all be dead.”

  “I have to go home,” Nina said, feeling the tender spot on her cheek.

  “You can’t go home, you stupid bitch,” he said. “Where do you think I’ve been until this time? We’ve been cleaning out the places where the girls lived. I told you, these people don’t leave tracks.”

  Nina stared at him in disbelief. It just wasn’t possible. “How could they know their addresses?”

  “Raisa does her homework. It’s why we like to take university girls. They usually live in rooms or student apartments. It’s easier to make them disappear without early suspicion.”

  “It was all planned in advance?”

  “Of course,” Kasharin said. “There was a small problem with the girl who was staying with her grandmother.”

  “That’s Anna. Do you know who her father is?”

  “Who gives a fuck - she’s just a whore now. Anyway, the old bird screamed blue murder when she discovered us in her house, so there was little we could do about that. For the rest of you, though, your rooms are empty now, and your things have been dumped. I had to include you, so they wouldn’t suspect anything. Nobody realised you’d disappeared until later.”

  Nina’s head was in a whirl. It all seemed so efficient and cold-blooded. She struggled to take in the enormity of what had been done.

  “Where will I live? I have no clothes...nothing.”

  “Don’t worry, I have a place for you, and you’ll be given you all the clothes you need. You will work for me. You can’t go back to the university, or they’ll grab you for sure. You have to keep out of their sight, because they don’t like loose ends. Come, I’ll take you to your new home.”

  IV

  Kasharin took Nina to an apartment in a large building not far from his bar. It was on the fifth floor of a terraced house without an elevator. As they were climbing the stairs, a man was descending, and he glanced briefly at Nina as he passed. They didn’t see anyone else there, and at the top of the last flight of stairs, in front of a stout door, Kasharin paused and rang the door bell. They waited, and after a couple of minutes there was a metallic click announced as the lock disengaged. The door opened an inch of so and a man peered out through the gap.

  “Igor, it’s Vadim.”

  The man cursed and the door opened fully. He was unshaven and his hair was unkempt, and he wore just a pair of shorts that were prominently tented by his erect penis. A hand gun was grasped in his right hand. “Fuck you, Kasharin. What fucking time do you think it is? I was working all night.”

  “Ach, some of us have also been working all night, Igor,” Vadim said as he pushed Nina forward. “This is Nina, your new girl.”

  When they went inside the apartment, Nina was pleasantly surprised by its decor, given the grim outer exterior of the building and the shabby stairways. The flat had high corniced ceilings, and polished sanded wood floors, and the furniture was modern and attractive.

  “It couldn’t wait until later? Alright let me look at her.”

  “Take your clothes off,” Vadim ordered Nina.

  “What?”

  “Fuck!” Vadim said, reaching out and grasping the collar of her shirt and yanking it so hard that it tore the cotton material and the buttons flew off and it gaped open revealing her bare breasts. “Do I always have to tear your fucking clothes off? I’m tired, Nina. Do as you’re fucking told. Strip for the man.”

  Igor held the gun at Nina’s temple. “I’m tired too, bitch,” he said. “If need be, I’ll shoot you now and a slut will clean the mess later.”

  Quaking, Nina removed the torn shirt, and then unbuttoned the waistband of the small denim skirt and pushed it down over her hips. She cowered back, naked, as the man stared at her.

  “Her cunt hair is like a forest,” Igor complained, as if offended.

  “So shave her. She’s fresh meat and has hardly been fucked. You want her? You can pay me later.”

  Igor glanced again at Nina. “Alright, come on in here, bitch,” he said grumpily, and he grasped Nina’s arm and pulled her into one of the rooms. Another nude girl was already in the crumpled bed, but she got up and scampered out of the room when Igor gestured with his gun. As Igor closed the bedroom door, he called: “Now fuck off, Kasharin, and let me get some rest.”

  Nina blinked. She realised that Vadim Kasharin had just sold her to this frightening brute! Igor’s fingers were locked around her upper arm and she ineffectually tried to pull away. “Please, I need to rest.”

  Igor again pressed the muzzle of his gun to her temple. Nina gave a small moan of terror. For a second, she thought he was going to shoot her. Instead though, he swung her around and hurled her to sprawl on the bed. “First I try you out,” he snarled. “Then you rest.”

  With that he tossed the gun onto the table beside the bedroom door and strolled to the bed, pushing his shorts down and stepping out of them. He glanced down as she cringed back fearfully and trie
d to scramble up the bed away from him. Igor growled and reached to grasp her ankle, dragging her back.

  “No, please...”

  He used his grip on her ankle to adroitly twist Nina over onto her belly, and yanked her back so that her legs draped over the edge of the bed. She remained thus, terrified, and saw him go to the small bedside cabinet and take a condom and a tube of lubricant gel. Then he went behind her, snapping the condom onto his cock as he walked. Nina squealed as he roughly spread the cheeks of her arse and smeared the cold lubricant on her anus. Not again! That was how Vadim Kasharin had fucked her. What is wrong with these people? She screeched in protest, but Igor ignored that. She squirmed and struggled as he pushed his cock against the tight muscle, but the cock glans easily breached her and then he was pressing forward, working brutally inside her. It hurt dreadfully. He was grunting and pushing, and she felt as though the tender flesh of her anal tunnel was splitting and tearing. She buried her face in the duvet, biting on the bedding, her fingers grasping the fabric until her knuckles were white. Nina screeched and the top of her feet beat a frantic tattoo on the carpet. Then Igor gave a cruel thrust and she threw her head back in pain as the cock sank fully into her arse. The flab of his hips nestled against the cheeks of her arse, and she was impaled to the hilt of his member. She gritted her teeth and the next lunge wrought another anguished moan from her throat. He eased back and then thrust forward once more, bludgeoning in the cock deep into her tortured passage. She knew that he was intent on hurting her. He was demonstrating his power and her own abject weakness, deliberately imposing pain and humiliation, conclusively impressing upon her that she was his whore and she could do nothing to prevent him doing with her as he liked. He then began to work back and forth, fucking her arse, without pause or pity for her moans and pleas. Presently, after only a short time, although it seemed like an eternity, he began to piston his hips, slapping against her, and she rolled in a tide of pain and torment until he went rigid against her and jerked spasmodically.

  “In future, whenever you don’t do as you’re told, I’ll always fuck you hard up the arse,” Igor said.

  Nina gave another yelp as he withdrew his softening cock from her sore anus. She lay sprawled on the bed as he pulled off the condom and dropped it onto her back. Then Igor climbed up onto the bed, and went to sleep. Nina lay awake, her body convulsed with sobs. She knew now that she had fared no better than her friends Renata and Anna.

  V

  “Where are we, do you think?” one of the girls asked as Anna pushed at the wall of heavy cardboard boxes to create a gap and peer through the small window in the back of the panelled truck. The Albanian traffickers were obviously feeling more secure and confident now, for they no longer left a guard with the women in the rear of the truck. For much of their nightmarish road journey from Moscow the three men had reluctantly taken turns to watch over their captives, for none of them wanted to ride on the hard, rug strewn floor in the unheated rear of the vehicle. The women were given no other choice, though. They travelled on for sixteen hours with only two stops for food and lavatory breaks. The truck had passed through three check points while the women had huddled silently together, afraid to make a sound. On the first two occasions the girls listened to friendly banter that seemed to indicate some commercial arrangement between the Albanian traffickers and the guards. Another time, though, the rear doors had been flung open for a few moments, causing the thug overseeing the women to draw his pistol and hush them to silence, but the stacked cartons of foodstuffs had obviously satisfied the half-inquisitive policeman, for the doors were quickly slammed shut again and locked. For the past few miles, the six women had been left alone in their mobile prison, huddled in the blankets and cheap padded coats they had been given as the vehicle rumbled along.

  The vehicle had noticeably slowed, obviously travelling in traffic and presumably in a town or city. The girls could hear the street noises and the rumble of cars, heavy trucks and buses. Anna peered through the gap she had managed to open in the stack of boxes. She immediately recognised the distinctive building with a stylised dome like a flattened onion. “We’re in Odessa,” she said simply, pulling the cheap padded coat about her as she settled back on the cushions and rugs on the bed of the van.

  “Odessa?” one of the girls said in alarm. “How do you know?”

  “I can see the railway station. I’ve been here before.”

  “Odessa! That’s in Ukraine, hundreds of kilometers from Moscow.”

  “Hush,” a blonde girl admonished, clutching her knees as she sat with her back against the side of the truck, “there are many worse places they could take us.”

  Anna looked across at the blonde, pushing a stray lock of dishevelled fair hair from her face. “Odessa is a port. Who’s to know where they are taking us?” she said.

  In the event, the van was driven to a nearby car park behind the railways station. There, the women were ordered from the vehicle to stretch their legs, while the cigarette-smoking men stood vigilant guard. Sara glanced around, assessing the chances of escape, but she decided that it was impossible. The place was almost deserted, and she had little doubt that the men could catch her if she ran. So, with the other girls, she paced back and forth, trying to get some feeling back into her aching limbs. After a few minutes, a large black BMW vehicle drew up beside the van and the driver cheerfully greeted the three Albanians from its open window. The man then glanced at the nervous women and joked that it had been a labour-intensive and expensive journey, with three strong men to transport only six weak sluts before easing the vehicle some yards away. Two of the Albanians remained near to the women, but Ermir followed the vehicle to leaned against the car door and speak through its open window. Sara saw him in animated conversation with driver. He turned and waved. “Send the girl here.”

  One of the other men roughly pushed Anna, gesturing for her to go to the car. She approached diffidently, gauging her chances on making a break for it and running away. The car park was almost deserted, though, and she knew that they would easily catch her. Ermir grabbed Anna’s arm and pulled her to stand in view of the driver. “This is the one,” he said.

  The driver glanced at her from under heavy lids for a dew seconds, a cigarette drooping from his lips. He then nodded and reached his arm from the window to hand a thick wad of banknotes to Ermir, who cursorily checked the wad of money before stuffing it into his pocket. Ermir then produced a bundle of passports from another pocket and handed them to the driver, and he called over to his henchmen. “Bring the bitches over here. It is done. Hey, cunts, come and get in here with Plakici. He’s a nice man and his car is much more comfortable.”

  The women glanced apprehensively towards each other as the men laughed, but they trooped obediently to the BMW. Ermir opened a rear passenger door of the plush BMW and four of them crammed onto the rear seat before the door was slammed shut, and another was ordered to the front passenger seat. Anna stood bemused, but Ermir roughly pushed her to the rear of the vehicle and opened the trunk. “Get in!” he ordered. “It is not far.”

  She looked in horror but, seeing that resistance was useless, she clambered into the trunk and curled into a foetal position as the lid was slammed down and locked, leaving her huddled in inky-darkness, knowing she had been sold again.

  VI

  Nina’s room was nice enough and it even had its own small bathroom, but it was nothing more than a gaol cell. Igor’s Moscow apartment was her prison.

  Throughout what had remained of that sleepless night (in reality until noon), she had lain beside the snoring thug. And Nina had constantly eyed the pistol that lay on the table near the door. She had no experience of such things, and didn’t even know how to use it. So she simply lay there, hardly daring to breathe, lying on the very edge of the bed until the man woke up and roughly fucked her again, this time simply using her cunt. Then he had dragged Nina to her room, locking the door.

  She had showered and then explored her new cell. Discon
certingly, the small cupboards on either side of the bed contained various sex toys: dildos, handcuffs, a leather paddle... and a large box of condoms and some tubes of KY jelly lubricant. In the wardrobe there were just three dresses, several pairs of shoes with very high-heels, and quite a few matched sets of lingerie neatly laid out on shelves, with a small stack of stockings still in their cellophane packets. In the bathroom cabinet there was a lot of make-up, a couple of pink-handled safety razors, a can of shaving gel, a large tub of zinc ointment, a part-full bottle of baby oil, and quite a few boxes of pills. Curiously, there was a bottle of vodka too. It was evident that another woman had previously occupied this room, and these, presumably, were her belongings. However, checking the shoes, she found a couple of different sizes there. Perhaps there had been more than one woman before her?

  With a sense of guilt at stealing someone else’s clothes, Nina chose a white bra and knickers, and the bra fitted her reasonably well. She then pulled on a floral print dress, and forced her feet into a pair of shoes that pinched her toes. There was no outdoor clothing, but she would manage without that. Nina intended to leave the apartment, not sure where she might go, but the lack of a coat wouldn’t deter her. Then she gave a start when the lock of the door was turned. Nina cowered back, moving towards the bathroom, expecting Igor to enter her room. However, the door remained shut. She waited some time and then heard the external door open and close. Igor had left the apartment! Nina waited fearfully for a few minutes and then she dared to leave her room. She was surprised to see another woman sitting in the living area, reading a magazine, clad only in a black bra and skimpy knickers.