Nordic Bound

by Henry Morgan

  Leonid leant out of the window. ‘Know anyone?’

  The guard looked at his comrade and received a nod. ‘My cousin, Sergei.’

  ‘I’ll bear him in mind,’ said Leonid, grinding the gears of the truck.

  The guard slapped the door and waved them on. ‘Make sure you do,’ he called after them. ‘He’ll give you better prices than Gorky.’

  Shipside everything was quiet, but Leonid and his mate wouldn’t allow David to help unload the sled, so he and the girls were ushered straight onboard. As one of the crew offered a helping hand to the sisters a few of the other sailors passed knowing glances between themselves. The trio were then taken below.

  It was an hour before the boat shivered and the engines pushed it away from the harbour wall and out onto the inky black water. It was another half hour before David felt relaxed enough to pull out his pipe and fill it with loki. Mishka offered him a light and he sucked thoughtfully, watching the bowl glow as he inhaled. A day that started so well had turned into a shambles. He pulled the small curtain across the porthole so he could see Murmansk fading as they pulled further away, then he turned to the girls for solace.

  Chapter 8

  The van was filled with exhaust fumes and had rattled through the Russian countryside for the best part of two days and nights. It bumped and jolted its way for hours over uneven roads, and Sabrina had no way of knowing how much longer it would go on for. She was kneeling on the van floor, her hands were cuffed behind her back and the cuffs attached to the roof of the vehicle. Around her neck a collar kept her face on the bed of the van, and her head was covered in a black hood. As with all female prisoners the guards had removed her knickers and pulled her skirt up to reveal her sex.

  If there had been any windows in the van and if Sabrina had been able to look out of them she may have spotted GUM’s as they drove along Nikolskaya Ulitsa, the place where she found the piece of carved amber that had set her on David’s trail. She may even have been warmed by the sight of Detskiy Mir, the biggest toy store in Russia. Then again, if she had, she would have recognised Lubyanskaya Ploschad, and she would have known she was on her way to Lubyanka, one time home to the Cheka and now the residence of the KGB and the most infamous prison in the motherland.

  As uncomfortable as her position was, she had fallen into torpor from sheer exhaustion. She had not been fed and there were no toilet stops, at least not for her. It was not her fault, therefore, that she hadn’t realised the vehicle had stopped. She missed the sound of huge iron gates opening and closing and had no idea that she was deep beneath the pavements of Moscow. Even when the back of the van was opened and three green-uniformed officers, including one woman, stood staring at her exposed urine-stained rear, Sabrina was still oblivious to her situation.

  The men grabbed the prisoner and dragged her down a further flight of steps into a reception area that consisted of one table, one chair and a feeble light bulb. The room stank of urine and nicotine. Behind the table sat an officer ranked higher than the others, and the female guard took up her position behind the seated interrogator while the men forced Sabrina into the centre of the room and took a few steps back.

  ‘You are?’ said an English voice with just the hint of an eastern lilt. It was the first words Sabrina had heard since they left Murmansk.

  She remained silent.

  ‘You are?’

  Still she said nothing, so the officer spoke again. ‘Let me rephrase that,’ he said calmly. ‘You are,’ he paused, ‘in deep shit.’ He nodded to one of the two men behind Sabrina, who stepped forward and tore the skirt from the prisoner, leaving her naked from the waist down.

  ‘Oh,’ said the officer without changing the pitch of his voice. ‘How unusual.’ He had spotted the rampant dragons tattooed either side of Sabrina’s naked sex and leaned closer to examine them.

  He stood up and remained directly in front of her. Sabrina could now sense his presence; she could smell the strong odour of stale coffee on his breath and when he spoke again she felt the blast from his mouth disturb the cloth of the hood. She was though, too terrified to answer, and she kept her eyes screwed tightly shut in case some unseen object was poked into them.

  The one thing she wasn’t worried about was being naked. She was well aware how sexual embarrassment was used to break down prisoners, especially females. She had used the technique herself, including on David, and she knew it was effective. She also knew that its efficiency lay mostly in the prisoner’s strength of character and their feelings about sex. In that department Sabrina was stronger than most.

  But if her mind was powerful her body remained that of a female, and when a clenched fist struck her in the stomach she crumpled and landed heavily on her bottom. The blow had driven the wind out of her and she dropped her head between her parted knees to gasp for air. The interrogators appreciated the view and smiled at each other.

  ‘Pick her up!’ snapped the chief guard.

  The two male guards dragged Sabrina to her feet and presented her to their boss. ‘Your courage is admirable,’ he told her. ‘But you will tell us everything we want to know.’ The boss ran a finger against Sabrina’s sex. She didn’t flinch and that made him smile again. ‘I shall look forward to breaking you.’

  He turned to the guards and told them to take her to the bathhouse. She was grabbed immediately and dragged away.

  With her arms locked behind her back and partially lifted from the floor Sabrina part-ran, part-walked, and mostly stumbled along between the two burly men, when suddenly her body hit a pole fixed in the centre of the corridor and she fell backwards in both shock and pain. The two guards had purposely marched the unsuspecting and hooded girl into it as a form of welcome, which they extended to all the new inmates. After picking her up and taking her along several other corridors they stopped and Sabrina heard the sound of a heavy door being opened. It was the bathhouse.

  She was guided inside and immediately felt the icy chill in the air, especially around her exposed thighs. She began to shiver.

  A woman’s voice barked and the female guard answered before pushing Sabrina further into the room. There was another exchange of words and the hood was suddenly pulled from Sabrina’s head. Her eyes remained tightly shut because she was afraid the light would hurt them after two days of total darkness. She was also terrified of what she would see. But she need not have worried about the light, because the room was very dimly lit by several dull lamps bolted to the walls. Some niches and corners were in total darkness, while the rest of the room was in shadow or half-light.

  ‘Welcome,’ said a large Russian woman sat behind a table that was on a raised platform. She was looking into a bluff coloured folder, which she promptly put down in order to look at the prisoner. ‘I see we know nothing about you,’ she added, before getting out of her seat, and Sabrina saw that the woman’s size was due to physical exercise, and not an over enthusiasm for food.

  The interrogator, for Sabrina was in no doubt that she was just that, walked slowly around the table, her eyes fixed permanently on those of Sabrina. Despite her heavy build she stepped lightly down from the raised area and stood directly in front of her new prisoner. New prisoners were always a joy to Yelena Nesterov. Most were terrified from the start, and that was good. A few, and Sabrina looked to be in that company, entered Lubyanka with confidence and would have to be broken, and Yelena liked that too.

  Too frightened to return her gaze, Sabrina looked over Yelena’s shoulder. The room was completely tiled from floor to ceiling and several stalactites of what looked like some sort of salt descended like the encrusted teeth of a dragon.

  Yelena gripped the heavy material of Sabrina’s shirt and ripped it into tatters as if it was paper. Sabrina was too scared to be impressed. The Russian leaned forward and their eyes met, but Sabrina saw not one glimmer of humanity. Her captor was a robot of the motherland, an automaton prepared to carry out an
y instruction she was given. She was as cold as the room.

  Without emotion she slipped her hands under the cups of Sabrina’s bra and tore the garment in two. Apart from the rags of her shirt hanging from the handcuffs Sabrina was now naked. At the movement of Yelena’s hand the guards directed Sabrina towards a passageway that was even darker than the rest of the room. She made her way in some trepidation, her feet pitter-pattering on the cold tiles as she followed behind the broad Russian.

  After about ten feet or so Sabrina detected freezing water around her feet. It was so cold it was at the stage of slush and Sabrina wished she was wearing the heavy serge uniform of the prison guards.

  The small party of two men, two women and Sabrina entered another gloomy room. This one was even colder than the other, and Sabrina noticed an open trough that was fed by a large tube running with icy water. The other end of the trough emptied through a hole in the wall on the opposite side of the room. There was a walkway running along the trough, with a rusting handrail above from which hung rubber tubes terminated with a steel attachment, and before Sabrina could hazard a guess at their intended employment she witnessed them in use.

  At one end of the trough two men were bent over the handrail. They were naked and their bottoms forced high. Behind each of them stood a woman, their uniforms protected with leather aprons, feeding the tubes into the anus of each man. Once fitted the women pulled a lever and the men flung back their heads in obvious discomfort and pain.

  The guards were about to drag Sabrina across to take her place over the rail when Yelena stopped them. She wanted to build up the fear in her new prisoner, and letting her watch what was happening was a good way to do it. And it was having the desired effect on Sabrina, who watched wide-eyed as the hoses were removed from the men’s behinds and replaced with rubber plugs. One of the women, a stunningly beautiful Slavic blonde, almost six feet tall, then kicked the first man in his distended abdomen. He yelped pitifully in severe pain, but the girl was oblivious. She kicked his legs wide apart and slapped a wooden paddle into his scrotum. He screamed again and tried to bring his hands to his groin, but was stopped by chains holding them to the floor. The blonde then wrenched the plug from his arse and laughed as a great arc of water and effluent emptied from his bowels into the running trough.

  It was already enough for Sabrina. She had trained both men and women for their dominant partners but she was out of her league here, where there was obviously no compassion and leniency was a foreign word. ‘I’d like to speak to someone,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Sorry,’ Yelena answered.

  ‘Someone in authority,’ pleaded Sabrina.

  The phrase seemed to irritate the Russian. ‘When you are in the bathhouse,’ she replied angrily, ‘I am the only authority.’ She nodded at the guards, who began dragging Sabrina towards the trough.

  ‘No!’ she pleaded. ‘I’ll tell you what you want… anything!’

  ‘We already know that,’ laughed Yelena, and the other guard grinned at the certainty of the comment. Sabrina was forced to the other side of the rail just as the second man’s freezing enema gushed from his arse into the trough. Horrified, her eyes followed the flight of greasy waste until it hit the water, and the horror continued as in the shallow water she saw a naked girl pegged just at the waterline. Her skin was translucent and she appeared to be dead, frozen in the icy filth that washed over her body.

  Sabrina’s pleas became hysterical. Even when one of the guards unchained the young woman in the trough and dragged her out to revive on the freezing floor Sabrina was still begging to be allowed to see someone, anyone, who could help her, but he hand of the blonde that whipped across her face and returned to grab her hair silenced her cries.

  In one move Sabrina was bent over the rail, her cuffs removed and her wrists locked into the floor shackles. Intent on keeping the hose out of her rectum she clenched her buttocks tightly together. It was a wasted effort; the second leather-aproned woman stepped to the side of her and pulled her cheeks apart to expose the puckered star of her anus. Then Sabrina felt the steel-tipped hose bully its way into her back passage and her bowels were flooded. The cold water immediately chilled her insides and threatened hypothermia. In all the weeks she had been in Russia she had never felt so cold. The added pressure ballooned her tummy and Sabrina watched it grow as the savage blonde allowed more and more water into her private chute. Only after the pain had grown so intense and the cold chilled her insides did Sabrina’s eyes begin to roll upwards and Yelena called for the blonde to stop. Sabrina was then plugged and Yelena nodded to the tall blonde to pull up the prisoner’s head so she could talk to her.

  ‘Why are you in Russia?’

  ‘Please,’ gasped Sabrina. ‘Release me and I’ll tell you everything.’

  Yelena motioned to the female guard who had first escorted Sabrina to the bathhouse. ‘I want the belt.’

  At the sound of those words Sabrina’s stomach began to fold continuously over itself, forcing her to retch. She had used the belt on her own, albeit willing, prisoners. Now she was to face it from a vicious Russian KGB guard, or so she thought.

  The belt turned out to be a large leather harness that ran around her stomach. It also had a separate length that passed between her legs and over her lower back to hold the bottom plug in place. While she was being harnessed the two men and the unconscious girl were taken back to their cells.

  Yelena spoke again. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘Please,’ said Sabrina. ‘Stop this…’

  Yelena nodded and the Slav pulled the harness one notch tighter. The pressure increased, as did the pain. ‘No more!’ Sabrina wailed.

  Another notch slipped through the buckle with an obvious result. ‘You will have noticed,’ said Yelena, ‘that speaking out of turn, or answering a question I haven’t asked, will mean Svetlana will tighten the harness.’

  The belt slipped another notch.

  ‘Ahhh…!’ cried Sabrina.

  Another notch.

  This time Sabrina remained silent, and the three remaining female guards smiled.

  ‘I see you have the message,’ Yelena said calmly. ‘Let us try and get through this as pleasantly as we can, shall we?’

  Sabrina nodded in defeat.

  ‘Why are you in Russia?’

  ‘I-I’m chasing someone – a man,’ Sabrina panted. ‘The one I tried to shoot in Murmansk.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘That… that’s it.’

  A nod from Yelena meant another notch and Svetlana dutifully obeyed. Sabrina’s stomach felt as if it would burst and she found herself almost unable to speak. ‘Please,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s the truth. I was chasing him because he ran away from me.’ The cold was numbing and Sabrina gratefully felt herself slipping out of consciousness as the excess pressure began to squeeze her arteries, but Yelena saw her prisoner begin to fade and ordered the harness and plug to be removed, and with only one possible exit the release of so much pressure found expression in a fountain of foul slurry.

  The relief was instantaneous and Sabrina found its aftermath to be actually pleasant. She experienced the most wonderful sensations of weightlessness and the rush of blood returning to her head brought with it the snap of clarity, as did the freezing water being hosed over her body.

  ‘What have we discovered?’ asked the interrogating officer from the reception room, who had entered unnoticed.

  Yelena snapped her heels together and replied that the prisoner claimed to be pursuing a male.

  ‘Is that all?’

  Yelena answered that it was, and that she was forced to abandon her questions when the prisoner began to faint.

  ‘Take her to the cells. We shall begin the interrogation properly tomorrow.’

  Still naked Sabrina was dragged, for she was too exhausted to walk, out of the bathhouse. Her head felt too heavy to lift and she watc
hed the floor swim beneath her as she was led along dingy winding corridors accompanied by the squeals of pain and anguish from other inmates.

  At last they stopped outside a cell, which was opened and into which she was thrown. It was tiny, windowless, cold and illuminated by a dull light. She landed on a bare mattress. There was no blankets, no furniture, and a soiled pot in the corner was the only concession to civilisation. The guards departed without a word and the door slammed shut.

  Sabrina couldn’t prevent a small smile coming to her lips. She had survived her introduction to Lubyanka. ‘Welcome to hell,’ she said to herself, and then made a promise to do whatever it took to survive.

  Her solitude was short-lived. At the sound of keys in the lock of the door she drew her legs up under her chin and wrapped her arms around her shins. The door opened slowly to reveal an obese giant of a man. He wore no uniform like the others she had seen, just an old pair of trousers and a ripped vest. No doubt his massive bear-like bulk kept him warm in the cold subterranean temperature.

  The man entered, his gait more of a shuffle than a purposeful walk. He was carrying two buckets, which he placed on the floor to either side of him. Sabrina said and did nothing. He tapped one of the buckets with his foot. Sabrina leaned forward, unconcerned by her nakedness, to peer into the zinc pail. It contained semi-rotten apples, lumps of cheese and some bread, all mouldy. She made to take some but the brute pushed the bucket away. He spoke no English, but he made himself quite clear with a grunt and a nod of his head to his groin, so Sabrina, too hungry and weary to protest, rose to her knees and pulled at his zip. It was difficult because the trousers were so old and there were several teeth missing from the zipper, but when she did eventually manage it she revealed a pair of underpants that matched the brute’s vest in that they were torn and soiled too. His semi-turgid cock poked rudely from the front, and he thrust his hips towards her as a sign of his impatience.