by Henry Morgan
‘Why do you go?’ said the large sailor called Leonid. ‘We are just resting.’
David smiled grimly, wondering if the sailor had the faintest idea about the complications of people’s lives. ‘It’s a long story,’ he said.
‘But, we will see you tonight? Here?’
David took hold of Mishka’s arm and led her and her sister towards the door. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Where?’
‘Out of here. Out of Murmansk.’
Leonid chased after his newfound friend. ‘You are in some trouble. I can see it in your face. Who is after you, the police?’
‘Look, it’s not your problem. I’d stay well away from me.’
Leonid put out an arm and stopped the trio before they reached the door. ‘You go east, west, south maybe?’
David hadn’t given any thought to where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get out of there. He paused for thought and Leonid offered him a glass of vodka to calm his nerves.
‘I can’t go west,’ he said, more to himself than to the sailor. ‘Gorky must have told them where I am. That’s why they were there.’
Leonid and the two girls exchanged bemused looks.
‘South is too dangerous. Too near the cities.’
‘Then it’s east?’ said Leonid.
David threw back the vodka and confirmed east.
‘Then you are in luck. Tonight my brother sails for Amderma. The breakers have made a path. He will take you.’
‘How much?’
‘Let’s say half the roubles you took off my friends for the girls?’
David looked at the sisters and noted the look of concern on their faces. They had no idea what had just happened but they knew something was amiss. ‘Right,’ he confirmed to the Russian. ‘I need somewhere safe to stay until we sail.’
Leonid went up to the bar and called out to the barman. A brief conversation ensued, during which the barman glanced over several times. Eventually Leonid motioned for David and the girls to join them. As they went across the other sailors cheered and waved them goodbye.
‘Everything okay?’ David asked anxiously.
Leonid leant forward into his face. ‘Georgi,’ he said, pointing to the man. ‘He was watching what we were doing with the girls.’
‘So?’
‘He says no roubles. You give him the younger one and he will hide you until tonight.’
‘Is it safe?’
Leonid covered his heart with his large hand. ‘Perfectly safe.’
David was not so sure, but then, he had no choice. ‘Tell him okay.’
Georgi was all smiles as he pointed the way. The group walked along a sloping corridor that fell away beneath the city pavements. Suddenly Georgi stopped and pulled away a barrel that stood against the wall to reveal a small opening no more than two feet square, and David immediately announced that he was not going into any hideaway. ‘You have no choice,’ Leonid reminded him, and through a small grimy fanlight that looked up out onto the street a police car could be seen rushing past, siren blaring. ‘You have nothing to worry about here.’
‘Oh yes?’ said David, preparing to enter the small recess. ‘And what about you?’
Leonid’s expression changed to one of anger. ‘I could have smashed your face in the moment we entered this corridor,’ he spat, and for a moment David’s blood ran as cold as the pavement outside, but then Leonid added, ‘But I haven’t. That must tell you something.’ He paused and turned his hand towards the small opening. ‘And you still have no choice,’ he added.
David ducked into the cramped room, closely followed by the girls and the two men. There was only just enough room for them, another person and it would be very uncomfortable. Georgi struck a match and used it to light an old lamp that was sitting on a tea chest.
David surveyed the cell, for that was what it looked like. Despite its underground situation it was dry enough, and was also very cold.
Georgi and Leonid said a few reassuring words on their way out, and the two girls looked at David. They were obviously frightened at the way events had so suddenly turned, but the only comfort he could offer was to cuddle them close as they huddled quietly on the small mattress built onto a shelf and stared at the lamp.
The three felt like prisoners, and clung together under the coarse blanket on the mattress. The lamp flickered, but its feeble light was unable to successfully penetrate the gloom of the cell. But it drew their weary eyes to it, as only a flame seems to do, and relaxed them into an uncomfortable doze.
It was two hours before the sound of the barrel woke them. The girls tightened their grip around David as the small door opened and a triangle of light cut the gloom. It was Georgi carrying a tray of soup and heavy bread. He placed the tray on the floor and signalled for them to eat, and then he backed out of the cell.
Just as they had finished eating they heard the grating sound again. This time Georgi came all the way into the cell and David realised it was pay-up time. Georgi placed the tray on the tea chest and motioned for them to move along the mattress. He then mumbled a gruff order for Teena to squat in front of him, and began undoing his grubby trousers.
Teena hesitated, before David nodded and indicated for her to obey. As obedient as ever, the girl positioned herself on the mattress in front of the man, and waited.
The Russian’s penis was already semi-erect, and the angry purple helmet was pushing its way past its roll of foreskin in desperate search of the forthcoming pleasure. Georgi turned to his watching audience and gave a satisfied leer. Both David and Mishka looked on with interest, their earlier fears now diminishing as the sexual congress proceeded. Georgi took hold of the girl’s head with one hand and presented his cock to her lips, and Teena allowed him access by forming a warm pouch with her willing mouth and sucking him to the back of her throat until the wiry bush of his unwashed pubes touched her nose.
He was in no rush. He had already stroked himself to several orgasms earlier when he had watched the girls being gangbanged. This was the icing on the cake, so to speak, and he was going to hold on to his icing until it was impossible for him to carry on.
David and Mishka slunk into a shadowy corner and pulled the blanket over their legs. As the loathsome man began to increase his tempo David noticed Mishka studying the scene intently, her large dark eyes glued to the gnarled slab pounding her sister’s mouth. David smiled and pulled her closer, he was very proud of the girls’ substantial sexual appetite, and he was always satisfied with their compliant performances.
For a brief moment the cell fell darker as the light dimmed. David turned from Mishka to see the Russian change position and block out the lamp. He was withdrawing his penis from Teena’s mouth and David expected to see it covered with his issue, but he hadn’t come. He had decided to savour her generous breasts and pulled Teena to her feet and removed her top. The cold immediately teased out her nipples and he roughly squeezed them into his mouth, crudely fingering between her legs as he slobbered and slavered like a starving pig.
In the shadows Mishka snaked a hand under the rough blanket and sought out David’s cock. He allowed her to do it, and relaxed against the wall as a warm glow banished the coldness of the underground cell.
The Russian eventually pulled Teena up from the bunk. He was still clothed except for his trousers, which were a heap around his ankles, and his cock stretched up in silhouette against the lamplight. He took hold of her arm and turned her around to face the bunk, then pushed her forward until she was forced to support herself on the mattress and lifted up her short skirt.
Her knickers had been missing since the gangbang, a trophy to some randy sailor. Georgi used a hand to guide his straining prick down and away from his paunch, aiming at the lovely girl’s vulnerable fig. He nudged closer and grunted as he felt her open to allow him entry. His hips jabbed, rocking the girl forwa
rd and making her squeal as he penetrated her, and then his thrusting increased in power and speed and he slumped on her back and milked her breasts.
Mishka increased her tempo in tune with the brute, and the extra intensity closed David’s eyes and mind to everything except the vision of his girl being ruthlessly fucked over the old stained mattress in an underground Murmansk hideaway.
So lost were they all that they missed the dark figure blocking out the faint light of the tiny entrance, and when David did notice the shadow the man was already inside. It was Leonid, and he was grinning from ear to ear at the sight that confronted him. He slapped Georgi’s back and was cursed for his pains. Georgi was gripping Teena ever tighter and his face was contorting into a grimace of intensity as he finally jammed his hips forward and ejaculated into her.
‘I see Georgi insisted on payment,’ Leonid beamed.
David composed himself; his own orgasm subsided and his survival instinct kicked in once again. ‘Everything sorted out?’ he asked, his voice a little weak after the skilled attentions of Mishka’s hand.
‘You have no worries,’ Leonid confirmed.
David rose from the mattress, quickly fastened his trousers, and told Teena to dress. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.
The two men crawled out of the cell, followed closely by the girls. ‘What have you done with my sled?’ David asked.
‘Nothing,’ replied the Russian sailor. ‘But I will dispose of it for you, if that is what you want.’
David looked at him with a knowing smile. ‘And you will send the money after me?’ Leonid smiled slyly, but David added, ‘Too bad, my friend. I’m going to need that sled after we land at Amderma.’
Leonid gave an exaggerated shrug, but cheered up when David nodded towards the girls and added that he might compensate them for their trouble on the boat.
The party stepped into the cold and snowy courtyard of the club. It was dark again and an old lorry was waiting to take them to the port. A man jumped down from the cab and Leonid called him over to help load the sled that Georgi had stashed in a disused lean-to against the yard wall.
Within ten minutes the vehicle was loaded and David and the girls climbed into the rear of the tarpaulin covered truck. They were told to lie still and keep quiet. Although the lorry driver didn’t know who his passengers were he did know that there was a lot of police activity around by the port. Apparently, he told them, three westerners had been in a shoot-out at Gorky’s and the police were treating it as possible espionage.
Behind some containers the three huddled as the lorry jerked and pulled away from the club, and David strained to hear any conversation between Leonid and the driver. There was none, and that worried him. Obviously the scenario with the police was real, and the two Russians were also feeling the tension created by carrying the wanted cargo.
It looked to Catherine like someone had thrown a pile of old rags onto the steps leading down to her apartment. She was cautious. This was a mean town and if something looked suspicious, then it probably was. She decided to approach the clothes carefully and kick it with her boot. She edged closer.
‘Catherine!’ It was Justin. He was shivering and a tear had frozen at the corner of his eye. ‘You’ve got to help me.’
Catherine looked nervously around and said loudly, ‘Who are you? What do you want? I don’t know you.’
Justin tried to get up but his knees had locked with the cold and it was a struggle. Catherine scanned the street again. There was no one in sight, so in one swift movement she unlocked her door and bundled the troubled Englishman inside.
‘You are freezing!’ she said with real concern. ‘What has happened?’ then before Justin could answer she ran out to the bathroom and turned on the shower, then went back to undress him. He was huddled in an armchair shivering violently. Catherine dragged him in front of the fire and began removing his clothes. As the flesh became visible she rubbed it vigorously with a warm towel to encourage the circulation, then moved on. Suddenly Justin started to groan loudly.
‘Does it hurt?’ she asked, somewhat unnecessarily.
‘M-my feet and my hands,’ Justin answered. ‘My feet and hands feel like hot pins and needles.’
‘That is good,’ Catherine told him before yanking his trousers and pants down. She immediately began rubbing his thighs with the towel and Justin saw her giggling.
‘W-what’s so funny?’
‘Your penis,’ she chuckled. ‘It has grown smaller with the cold.’
‘Just what I needed, humiliation and frostbite,’ he grumbled.
Catherine kissed the tip of his prick, and then licked his shaft and balls before drawing his whole cock into her mouth.
‘Definitely warmer,’ he sighed, and then winced as the pain returned to his fingers.
‘Well, I don’t think you have to worry about your penis falling off,’ Catherine told him. ‘Now you must have a bath.’
‘Can’t I stay here?’
Catherine lifted his legs out of his trousers. ‘No, you will cook your skin. There is no blood under it. It is inside you.’ She made motions up and down her body with her hands, trying to explain that he was suffering minor frostbite, and that his blood and been redirected to protect his liver and other organs. ‘Come, in the bath.’
She supported Justin through and helped him into the tub. To him it felt like the water was boiling, his skin crawled with a thousand painful needles and he called out again.
‘Try to hold on,’ Catherine urged. ‘Just a few moments, you will be nice.’
She was good to her word. Within minutes the pins and needles had gone and his body felt as if he was submerged in warm honey. Slowly the feelings came back and within a few more minutes the water began to feel quite cool.
‘Good sign,’ said Catherine. ‘Your senses are back.’ She ran some water out of the tub and replaced it with warmer water. Justin’s body relaxed and she repeated the process several times until the temperature was raised to that of her normal bath. Then she began to undress.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
She pulled off a pair of white thong panties and threw them on the radiator. ‘I am having a bath. You have taken all the hot water.’ She laughed and stepped into the tub, her neatly trimmed sex an inch or two from Justin’s nose. As she sat opposite him he noted a few tiny bubbles of air in the few hairs she had left on her vagina. Catherine rubbed them with the tips of her fingers and the bubbles rose to the surface and popped. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘For what? Saving my life?’
‘For pretending I didn’t know you – outside, on the steps.’ She took up the soap and began washing his arms. ‘There are still police watching us.’
‘Who are us?’
‘Everyone,’ she answered. ‘The West thinks we are all free now. That is not so. You surprised me. I did not know why you were here. I thought it was a trap.’
‘Well, the police may well come knocking.’ Justin shook his head and added, ‘I shouldn’t have got you involved. It’s not your problem.’
Catherine grabbed him by the arm and forced him back down into the water. ‘You made it my problem by coming here. The police, they will believe I know something. What have you done?’
Justin looked at her with admiration. ‘If I tell you then you will know, and the police will make you talk.’
‘If you don’t tell me then I cannot help.’ She resumed washing his arm again while Justin had time to gather his thoughts.
‘It’s Sabrina,’ he said eventually. ‘She went mad in a shop. A trading post sort of place.’
‘Gorky’s?’
‘Yes. She shot a gun and then crashed this vehicle we’d borrowed from some soldier.’
‘A gun? You have a gun?’
‘Not me,’ he answered defensively. ‘Her, Sabrina. We saw David.’
Catherine looked surprised. ‘That man you were following?’
‘Yes. He just walked into the shop while we were getting equipment to go and search for him. It was mad. I told Sabrina not to force him but she was so angry.’ He paused and relived those few insane moments in his head.
‘She shot him?’
‘No, thank God. He escaped but she tried to chase him and smashed into this car.’
Catherine dried her hands and reached for some cigarettes on a shelf. She lit one and blew out the match. ‘Why did you come here?’
Justin shook his head pitifully. ‘I had nowhere else to go. No friends apart from you. I just didn’t know what to do.’
Catherine smiled and drew again on her cigarette. ‘That is cute,’ she said, as she exhaled. ‘Yes, I think that is very cute.’
‘Aren’t you angry?’ he asked.
She paused, as if contemplating the question. Finally she took another tote and answered, ‘Too late for anger. We must get you to the embassy.’
‘We can’t do that,’ he said flatly. ‘That will just bring notice to who we are, and what we’re doing in Russia.’
Catherine stubbed out her cigarette. ‘Then we must find out what we can do.’ She got out of the bath and drew a towel around herself. ‘You stay and I will make some soup.’ She left to go to the kitchen.
‘And then what?’
She poked her head around the door. ‘And then I shall find out what has happened to your friend. But I don’t believe she is your friend.’
The lorry was stopped at the port gates. The guards were expecting them because the Olga was due out in an hour or two for Amderma. They exchanged pleasantries and then David’s stomach lurched as he heard one of the guards ask them if they had an Englishman in the back. The guard was so amused at his question that he missed the stumble in Leonid’s voice.
‘Englishman?’
‘You haven’t heard?’ said the guard.
‘Heard what?’
‘Two English people, a man and a woman, went mad with a gun. Shot up Gorky’s really bad. Hey,’ he added as an afterthought, ‘you will have to sell those western jeans and music you bring in somewhere else.’
