by Dan Bruce
Not so easily won over by a hunk in a uniform, Natalie was trembling with fear. But she still managed to form a few sentences in Mordavian and asked if the gentleman recalled them from The Golden Sands hotel where he had dined at an adjacent table.
Now that came as a surprise to the chief of police. Yuri was impressed and seriously annoyed. No one had mentioned that the younger girl spoke Mordavian – Sergio would get a clip round the ear for the omission which could have resulted in the plan backfiring if she’d overheard something of importance. But he betrayed not a jot, and made no reply to this either. He simply looked at Natalie as he re-assessed the situation then turned away to have a few words with his subordinates, using a dialect that she would never understand.
Vicky watched all this feeling worried again, but still hideously aroused by the situation. It was a bizarre reaction – incongruous with their plight, but nevertheless she felt decidedly turned on. She reckoned it was the recent abstinence that was causing the effect – that and all the testosterone that was floating in the air as these men were oozing it by the gallon!
“What are they saying, Natalie?” Vicky asked in a whisper, impatient to know what was going on.
Natalie had no idea, but she had no chance to answer. “Be silent!” yelled Dimitri. “Do not speak again until you are spoken to.”
Vicky bristled. She might be feeling unnaturally randy, and the young officer could lay claim to being the handsomest bloke she’d ever seen, but she wasn’t accustomed to being ordered about. “This is ridiculous, we’ve done nothing wrong,” she exclaimed, righteous indignity blazing on her face.
Yuri Karinov spun round with the speed of a pouncing panther and slapped Vicky hard across the cheek. The blow sent her reeling backwards and she crashed into the table, just managing to catch herself by griping on the edge. She made to bring her hand up to her burning cheek, but Yuri grabbed her by the wrist and pinned her down. He stood towering over her like the shadow of death – scary as shit, and for Vicky Fullerton, sexy as all hell!
“You were told not to speak.”
Yuri’s words came quietly and slowly, chilling the room with every drawn out syllable, and freezing Vicky with the accompanying stare from his petrifying black, black eyes. “Do not give me cause to reprimand you again. I will not be so lenient the next time.”
Then he moved away, returning to his men. Vicky was too terrified to even draw breath. She remained semi-collapsed over the table, tears welling in her sapphire eyes, threatening to wet her lovely flushed cheeks, whilst more moisture was oozing between her legs, threatening to drench her gusset.
Odd! But be assured it was true. Vicky Fullerton, who’d never known violence from a man before, had just been smacked in the face and sent reeling, and whilst she was mightily vexed and seriously pissed off, she was also shamefully aroused by this dominant display. Some unkind souls would say that made her a slut – a bitch in heat gagging for some cock. But maybe it was a tad more complicated than that... Power and violence so freely yielded, and raw masculinity so alluringly packaged – it all added up to a potent hit when mixed with foreign danger and a healthy libido that had been deprived for way too long. That perhaps is a better take on things, but call her a slut if you want.
Whatever! Vicky was stunned by her body’s reaction – it was a shocking abuse to be physically struck, but oddly it made Yuri even more attractive to her – power being a drug, potent and addictive, and Vicky Fullerton was becoming hooked to this man who supplied with such easy flourish.
“We have reason to believe you may be carrying illegal substances,” stated Dimitri, looking in Vicky’s direction. “Your luggage is currently being searched. It would save time, and act in your favour, if you were to confess now if that is the case.”
“Of course we’re not carrying anything illegal. You’ll find nothing in our bags apart from dirty clothes,” replied Vicky, knowing it was her place to take the lead. She wiped her face and stood back up on her feet – her legs shaking, her pussy pulsating – she really had to get a grip!
“Perhaps,” replied Dimitri with a shrug of his broad shoulders, then he flashed a disarming smile that did nothing to help the slavering state of Vicky’s pussy. “The sniffer dogs did not react to them, but they will be searched nonetheless. One of the dogs did react to you, however. It reacted very positively. Are you carrying anything on your person that might have caused such a response?”
“No,” stated Vicky with sure authority; then suddenly she looked over to her handbag with horror on her face. “No... Unless... unless it was the package.”
“What package?” snapped Dimitri.
“The present from Sergio. It’s in my bag.”
“Search the bag!” ordered Dimitri.
The subordinate big brute complied, emptying the contents of Vicky’s bag onto a desk. And there is was, the present from Sergio – Vicky could feel her heart racing and her guts wrenching with anxiety – all whorish thoughts now forgotten s she saw the trap approach. Gripped by nausea, she feared she might be sick. How stupid could she have been to accept something without opening it and not declaring it to the customs!
“Is this what you mean?” asked Dimitri. He lifted up the package and held it out towards Vicky.
“Yes, Sergio gave it to me this morning before we left the hotel. He said it was to remember him by.”
“And what does it contain?”
“It’s a present – I don’t know.”
“Open it!” ordered Dimitri, thrusting the package back to his subordinate.
Grinning at the fun, the big brute ripped off the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was a plastic bag shaped into a cube and held bound by duck tape. He handed it to Yuri Karinov.
Yuri weighed it in his hand and then fixed Vicky once again with his terrifying black eyes.
“A kilo,” he announced with startled raised eyebrows. “But a kilo of what, I wonder? Chocolates from your admirer perhaps - in a very odd casing! Then again... perhaps not!”
Yuri removed a penknife from his uniform pocket and sliced open the package. He dipped his finger in and brought it to his nose – it was ominously coated in white powder. Yuri sniffed then took a taste, touching his finger with the tip of his tongue.
“Cocaine!” he announced as if shocked and surprised. “And excellent quality, I might add – Columbia should be proud of such a crop! Illegal of course, in this country and most others... Who did you say was your supplier here in Mordavia?”
Vicky gazed at him wide eyed, her head spinning as she drowned in the horror of the trap that had closed. “Sergio, the hotel manager at The Golden Sands...” she blurted. “...and he’s not my supplier. He gave that to me – I had no idea what it contained.”
“LIAR!” hollered Yuri, the walls shaking with the ferocity of his voice. “Sergio Markov is a good man – a trusted friend of my family. HE DOES NOT TRAFFIC IN DRUGS. Do not insult me with such nonsense. Where did you get this from?”
“Sergio! I swear to it,” entreated Vicky, shaking her head in disbelief that this was actually happening... their own version of ‘Midnight Express’ made real.
“You lie!” countered Yuri, playing his part to perfection. “But I will have the truth from you, depend on it... Are you carrying any more drugs?”
Vicky was too dumbstruck to speak. The horror of the situation was crashing down on her. She could not comprehend why Sergio would have done such a thing, but for some reason he had tricked her into this trap.
“Search the rest of their belongings,” Yuri ordered, now taking full control. “Including the clothes they are wearing. If they are carrying more drugs, I want them found.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Dimitri in English, keeping to the language his Uncle Yuri had used, realising that the chief was now purposely allowing the young women to understand what was being said – to let them know they would be stripped. He barked out the necessary order to his idiot subordinate who then proceeded to search the other bag.<
br />
Yuri seated himself and watched the search with mock interest, but increasingly turned his attention away to look at the two trembling young women, savouring their fear and the plans he had for them.
The big brute finished his search and grunted out his conclusion. Nothing suspicious was found.
Yuri feigned surprise. Then he turned his attention fully on the women. “We now need to search your clothing, and your body cavities. Please undress.”
“I don’t think so!” snapped Vicky, pride and the need to protect her sister winning over the other feelings she had for this man. “There’s no way you’re putting your dirty hands on either of us. This is a set up and I’ve had enough.”
Yuri sprang up like a cat, the gun coming out his holster and pointing directly at Vicky’s face. “Do not make us use force! Undress! Now!” he snapped.
If the truth be known, Vicky wasn’t too worried about getting naked in front of this trio of contrasting men - quite the opposite in fact if the state of her snatch was anything to go by. But looking over to her sister, she could see that poor Natalie was terrified - tears were welling in her pretty blue eyes. No man had ever touched her inappropriately - Vicky knew that as a fact. It was too awful to contemplate that a strip search would be her first sexual experience. Vicky then looked in appeal to the handsome young officer who seemed most sympathetic to their cause. He looked away as if embarrassed by what was happening, but obviously powerless to prevent what was unfolding. Then Vicky glared at Yuri Karinov who was still pointing his gun at her, and she quickly weighed up her options. There didn’t seem to be many. “Please. Don’t do this,” she entreated.
“Take off your clothes!” Yuri snarled then turning to Natalie he snarled again. “You do the same! Strip! Now!”
The sisters looked at each other, a new layer of panic setting in. Then deciding that there was little point in protesting any further, Vicky reached for her dress and peeled it off. Natalie started crying: a nineteen year old youth who suddenly felt like a little girl, in desperate need of her mother – a big sister would no longer do.
“You too!!! Strip!” screeched Yuri into Natalie’s face, flecking her prettiness with Mordavian spit.
Natalie went rigid with fear then slowly she started to undress. Whimpering throughout, she joined her sister and stripped down to her bra and panties. Both women halted, looking pleadingly at the chief and in desperation at the other two officers, searching for some morsel of compassion which would spare any further hurt and humiliation, but nothing was on offer. The chief of police and his young lieutenant, his nephew whom he was nurturing and advancing through the ranks, both looked at the women with impassive blank faces, concealing the burning desire they both felt. The third officer, an idiotic thug who had little value to the State Police other than his brawn, leered at the women, making no attempt to disguise his lust or the rampant erection that bulged out the front of his uniform trousers – there certainly would be no sympathy from him.
“Please,” Vicky entreated, directing her words to Yuri Karinov, the man who had the power to end their ordeal. “Please don’t do this. At least let my sister go. She has done nothing wrong. The mistake was mine. Or if she must be searched, then let it be by a woman.”
“This search will happen,” replied Yuri coldly. “It will happen with your co-operation, or it will happen by force. And it will happen in the next few minutes conducted by me. Now remove the rest of your clothing. It will be searched whilst I search you.”
The certainty of his words was like a hammer driving a stake into their hearts. There was no doubt in either woman’s mind that he would hold true to his threat. Without needing to consult each other with words or looks, they both removed their bra then their panties and stood naked before the three men.
Natalie stood trembling in her nudity, hiding her modesty - one hand covering her pussy with its little bush of silky fair pubes, and the other hand and arm clinging to her small breasts.
Vicky, however, made no such attempts. She stood proud, giving them a clear view of her treasures: her fabulous big breasts with their coral pink nipples, and her clean-shaven pussy that was embarrassingly puffy. If some sort of violation was on the agenda, and she reckoned it was highly likely, then it should be her body that was debased, not poor innocent Natalie’s. If need be, Vicky would offer herself up to save her sister. It was her fault that they were in this mess and she should be the one to pay for her mistake. Noble reasoning... but then again, it did occur to Vicky that it would hardly be a trial given who was involved, as long as the policemen weren’t too rough with her.
Having savoured the sight of both women for a few moments, Yuri barked a command at the junior officer. The brute was dragged out of his lusting and sprang to attention, picking up the women’s clothing which he gleefully searched, spending an inordinate amount of time over their panties, which for some odd reason he felt compelled to sniff. Cocaine perhaps was the reason he would give – though no one would really believe it.
Yuri left him to his fun and nodded at his nephew – it was time to begin the body search.
“Over the table - both of you,” commanded Dimitri, keeping the calmness to his voice that his uncle had instructed. “Bend over the table and spread your legs.”
Vicky did so, and Natalie followed her lead. Dimitri came behind them and forced their legs further apart, shunting them with his booted feet. Vicky watched him in the mirror, morbidly transfixed, scandalously aroused, hypnotised by the scene which she could see reflected. Natalie, however, had elected to close her eyes, too terrified to watch. She was sobbing silently in her own little world, regretting ever having heard of Mordavia.
When ready, Yuri replaced his gun in his holster and came over to the naked women. Vicky watched his approach, again impressed by his physique, and even more so by the huge bulge that now filled out his trousers. A groan escaped her as she registered the size - the package was complete, this fantasy come nightmare depending on perspective, for the man was hung like a horse!
Casting aside her lust, Vicky glanced again at Natalie who continued to sob – the weeping eyes tightly closed and oblivious to the extent of the chief’s fleshy threat. Then Vicky looked back to the reflected man who was now directly behind her – a tower of raw masculinity with a tower of manhood straining in his trousers – terrifying, yet magnetically alluring.
Yuri let Vicky watch, amused by her conflicting emotions that he could see waging war in her mind and body. Staring at her reflection, he allowed his cock to twitch as he thought about the joy he would have in taming this beautiful woman and claiming her as his own And as he stood there teasing and tormenting with his body, Yuri caught Vicky’s eye in the mirror. She held his gaze for a moment then looked away, leaving Yuri smirking for he saw where her eyes went. Again his cock twitched, mocking her with its allure, causing Vicky to jerk her look away from the reflection she saw, furious with herself and even more so with the chief for seeing through her so easily. She resolved to toughen up and not act like a slut – let defiance win for a change.
No chance! Not with Yuri Karinov supporting the other side.
With a damning chortle that heralded the next battle, Yuri proceeded with the charade he had so easily contrived. The chief of police performed his duty and knelt behind Vicky to inspect the body orifices that might contain some crime – knowing fine well that the crime was his, but who would have the nerve or the stupidity to accuse.
Chief Karinov was mightily impressed, and a little bit amused, as he examined at close quarters the triangle of white flesh which the sun had not tanned on Vicky’s sexy rear. It set the flesh apart and drew the eye to the young woman’s ass, giving the buttocks an added eroticism. The spread of her legs meant the asshole could just be seen. It was lusciously pink, not at all like the assholes of Mordavian women which were purplish in colouration. Wanting to see better - and anxious to touch what he effectively now owned - Yuri placed his hands on Vicky’s buttocks and wallow
ed in the soft yet firm rubbery texture that spoke so loudly of youth. He filled his palms with these sensuous wonders then slowly pulled them apart so he could examine Vicky’s anus in more detail. Yuri drew a breath of utter delight as he gazed on the tightly clenched rosebud of pink skin. He blew on it then blew again. It clenched even more, refusing to submit; then with the third soft blow, Vicky’s pink puckered hole finally succumbed and relaxed to form a little gaping slit.
‘Yes,’ thought Yuri, an expert in such things, “this asshole has known what it is to be stretched, so I’ll wager it’s no stranger to cocks. And soon it will be no stranger to mine! I shall be buggering the bitch time after time and washing her guts with my spunk!’
Delighted with his catch, Yuri barked at his nephew and some lubrication was handed to him. He smeared the cool gel over Vicky’s asshole and coated his index finger as well. Forcing a restraint, he teased her for a few moments, sensuously rubbing the puckered flesh, coaxing it to relax and welcome him in. He took his time, making the process as sensual as possible, interested to see how the woman would react.
Vicky reacted in a maelstrom of confusion – her body wanting the attention, enjoying the sensual play; her mind screaming in indignation and fear for her poor sister whose turn was next. Fighting the nobler cause, she tried to tighten up, protecting her anal honour that was long since lost. If she had been on her own, she might have acted differently and accepted the probing, perhaps even allowing some pleasure to be taken. But she couldn’t do that with Natalie here in the room beside her. The poor girl was suffering enough without having to witness her sister acting like a slut. So Vicky fought back her yearning and made a token resistance.
It was a resistance that amused Yuri for a few minutes as he toyed with the woman; then he pressed his finger in, forcing the invasion – a slow steady progression all the way up Vicky’s ass till it was fully encased by her warm rectal flesh. He wriggled it around, felt the silky lining of her succulent chute and confirmed what he already knew: of course she was no drug mule, there was nothing in there; and yes she’d been buggered, his finger wasn’t the first piece of male flesh up her ass.
