by Dan Bruce
‘If only...’ Natalie had thought once Dimitri had gone. ‘Another time, another place - perhaps you could have been the one.’
Then Natalie dismissed such foolishness from her mind. She had a mission which involved Dimitri’s uncle. How could anything between them be possible after such an immodest act? Little did she know Dimitri Karinov, who frequently enjoyed women after his uncle was finished with them, and was very much looking forward to enjoying Natalie, time and time again!
By nine thirty, Natalie was waiting to be collected. She wanted to be ready well in advance of the appointed time just in case the chief could see her earlier. She was wearing a light summer satin dress which showed off her bare shoulders and slender arms, and her shapely legs as far as her knees. She had tried to dress as seductively as possible so she wore no bra, allowing her small nipples to prod through the fabric, which she hoped would do the trick without making her look like a total slut. But she didn’t look seductive at all, for that was a game Natalie had never played – she looked like a lost little girl with no idea what she was doing.
She looked perfect!
Yuri Karinov would be delighted when he saw her.
It wasn’t until after eleven that the officer arrived and escorted Natalie to Chief Karinov’s quarters, one of several residences he made use of. By this time Natalie had become increasingly nervous, wondering if she was making a huge mistake. She had listened with fascinated horror to Vicky’s description of oral violation by the chief. Of course that story was an invention, or so Natalie now believed, but the impression Vicky gave of the chief’s prodigious size was still firmly fixed in Natalie’s brain. She could visualise its enormity – a phallus bigger than any normal man would have – certainly bigger than the lieutenant, who according to Vicky was also very blessed – a fact which seemed confirmed during their earlier hug. The feel of the lieutenant’s stiffening sex had been thrilling for Natalie. And if the chief was bigger, what a sight his manhood would be – although something that size would not be the easiest thing to take into your pussy, especially if you were a virgin.
The thought both excited and terrified Natalie. It was a sacrifice she wished she could be making to another Karinov. But Vicky might be saved! Surely that had to be worth the sacrifice –what was the loss of her virginity when put against a sister’s life?
Then the officer arrived. There could be no more debate. The dice were cast and Natalie could not back out. She would play it by ear, see how receptive the chief was to her pleas, and then, and only as a last resort, she would make the sacrifice to save her sister’s life.
She was escorted out of her cell and into the menacing atmosphere beyond. At night the prison was even scarier than by day. Natalie was shown along the dark, stale smelling corridors, past the dozing inmates behind the bars. She was taken to the courtyard then into another ancient building which had a closer resemblance to a castle than a jail. Eventually they arrived at a door on which the officer deferentially knocked.
A barked voice came from within. The chief, it would appear, was ready to see her.
The officer opened the door and bid Natalie enter. He did not go through himself, however, he simply closed the door behind her.
The chief, it would appear, would see her alone.
Yuri Karinov was sitting at his desk in the room which Natalie took to be his office. It was dark and foreboding - the only illumination coming from the lamp on the chief’s desk which allowed him to read the papers he seemed to be working on.
Natalie stood by the door, her stomach was churning, all the arguments she had practiced seemed to be drying up in her mouth. She waited and waited, the chief taking no notice of her; then she let out a muffled cough.
Yuri Karinov raised his eyes an inch and looked at the figure standing before him, lurking in the shadows. For a moment he looked puzzled as to who she might be then he raised his eyebrows in startled recognition. He was hamming up his performance even better than Dimitri.
“Ah yes, Miss Fullerton. The other... Miss Fullerton. I understand you wish to speak to me.”
“Yes, sir, I do,” stated Natalie, her voice quivering with fear, but she steeled herself and pressed on. “Thank you for allowing me some of your valuable time. I wish to speak to you about my sister...”
“I have had my fill of your sister, Miss Fullerton,” growled Yuri.
“But, sir...”
“But enough!” the chief yelled, and he raised his hand to silence any further talk on the subject. “Now tell me - have you been treated well during your unfortunate stay with us?”
“Yes, sir. I have no complaints. Your nephew in particular has been most kind.”
Yuri let out a derisory grunt. “Kindness will be his undoing. He needs to harden himself up! I am too tolerant of his weakness.”
Natalie seized upon his words, sensing that the chief might have a chink in his gruff armour. “It is a strong man that knows tolerance,” she meekly said, “a strong man that can show compassion. Your nephew is of your flesh. He deserves your tolerance... My sister is of my flesh. Please show her the same.”
Yuri stared at her for a few moments, genuinely impressed by her words. She was frailer that her sister, but there was spirit there as well. She deserved the element of respect he had decided to show her.
“Step forward! Let me look at you,” said Yuri beckoning her towards him with his hand.
On trembling legs, Natalie inched closer until she fell within the glow of the lamp.
“Tolerance, you say!” said Yuri Karinov, his words coming slow and deliberately. “Our two countries have shown little tolerance for each other in the past... And you mention flesh!” Yuri paused to allow the words to sink in. He gazed at Natalie, searched her beautiful face and saw what she could not hide – the sacrifice that weighed heavy on her mind. “Tolerance! Will you buy my tolerance with an offering of flesh, Miss Fullerton - is that why you have come here to see me? There is no verbal argument you can construct that will convince me to show the clemency you seek. But flesh... especially young innocent flesh can be very persuasive.”
Natalie’s legs almost gave out on her. She could scarcely believe what the chief was saying. He had arrived at the nub so effortlessly, and made it perfectly clear he was open to negotiation - that he wanted what Natalie had come here to offer if all other approaches failed. It now was abundantly clear that nothing else would do – and in her heart Natalie had known this all along. It was time to offer it up, though her modesty demanded it was suitably paraphrased.
“If my... flesh will win your favour then I will freely give it to you,” she answered in a whisper, her head dropping to avoid his gaze and to conceal the flush that coloured her cheeks.
Yuri Karinov clasped his hands together and rested his chin on the double fist. He waited until she had raised her head then looked pensively at Natalie as if weighing her offer up.
“Let us take a walk,” he announced after an agonising couple of minutes.
“Where to?”
“There is a room I would like you to see, a room where flesh has been offered up for centuries - a room where tolerance has been tested to the full but has rarely been shown by me. Come, Miss Fullerton, let me show you where flesh may buy tolerance and we shall see if you are still prepared to pay.”
The chief stood up and took Natalie by the wrist. He led her out of his office and down a corridor until they came to a staircase. When they reached the bottom, they came to an oak door which was studded with wrought iron nails. It looked like something that belonged in a medieval fortress, and in reality that’s what this building was – a castle that now served as the police headquarters – the most suitable place for a king to reign from. The chief took a large key which hung on a ring to the side and unlocked the door. It squeaked as he forced it open.
The lighting was low, flaming torches on the walls like the day before when Natalie’s sister had been the guest of honour and had amused the chief with her stubbornness
of will before she eventually surrendered and got thoroughly fucked. Now Natalie was coaxed though into the same room, intent on buying something that her sister had already paid for.
She gazed around the room in wonderment, her eyes bulging out, and her mouth agape - her heart fluttering in her girlish chest like a captured bird in a cage.
All the equipment was still in place from the previous day and Natalie looked at it as if in a dream, or more like some hideous nightmare. The torture chamber air was thick with the smells of leather and wood, the scents of human suffering coated with sex, and the burning of the kerosene torches which added some heat. Natalie shivered none the less as she took in the scene – the benches and the racks and the stocks. She gazed in trepidation at the padded bondage table, and the medieval wheel that she feared was more than just an ornament.
Natalie’s eyes drifted upwards and took in the ceiling with all the adornments her sister had seen and the one she had been cruelly suspended from. She looked at the three walls with their instruments of torture and then she looked at the forth which was even scarier in appearance, and it was to there that Natalie was gently ushered, Yuri’s hand on her back, guiding her to her fate.
Natalie came to a halt a few feet away and stared at the instrument before her.
“It is a Saint Andrew’s Cross,” said Yuri. “You no doubt recognise it from your national flag.”
It was nothing like the cross Natalie was familiar with, the white on blue Saltire she was so proud of. She looked at the one before her with huge apprehension, guessing that the chief was intent on extracting his price in an ironic way – a crucified sacrifice on her national symbol.
Natalie tried to shy away, but Yuri took hold of her slender wrist and placed her right hand on the wood. He guided her to trace the grain with her palms, moving from one arm of the cross to the other.
“Flesh has yielded here, Miss Fullerton – this wood has been drenched by sweat and blood. And your Celtic race has sacrificed its youth to defend its own version of this cross – this symbol of your nation. Tolerance, Miss Fullerton – you came here to offer me your flesh. But the price of my tolerance is a lot higher than you might have thought.”
A moment later, Yuri spun her around by the wrist and pressed her against the cross on the wall. He pinned her against the wood with his massive bulk and bent down to whisper in her ear.
“You came here as the sacrificial lamb, intent on bartering your virginity to save your slut of a sister. But I could have taken your virginity at any time – it is not something to be bartered - it is already mine. But I want more than your precious virginity, Miss Fullerton. I want a lot more - your sincerity for one thing.”
“I... I don’t know what you mean,” she gasped, struggling to take in what was happening. This had been part of her plan, but she now realised that her plan was merely a component of a much grander scheme where she had no control at all.
“Yes you do,” hissed Yuri Karinov. “Flesh for tolerance, Miss Fullerton - willingly given – not grudgingly sacrificed, but happily offered, time and time again. I want your total surrender to my will. Do we have a deal?”
“No!” blurted Natalie, fear winning over her determination to save her sister. “Look, this was a mistake. I didn’t expect it to be like this. Please, you’re scaring me. I can’t go through with this. Please, let me go.”
Yuri laughed in her face, his aromatic breath hinting of whisky – another little irony he had consumed with much pleasure, forsaking his usual cognac. “Did you expect a soft feathered bed - the gratitude of an older man - to lie back and think of some handsome young Romeo as I caringly took your offering – a quick fuck then off you go, your noble duty done? My tolerance does not come so cheap, Miss Fullerton... But you may still earn it. Between now and ten o’clock tomorrow morning, you will give yourself to me in whatever manner I choose, and please me with your efforts, otherwise I wash my hands of you and your sister. We’ll let the court decide her fate.”
Natalie gazed at him terrified, too afraid to say anything in reply. But was there any point in resisting, even if she could? He had her in his grasp. She had come here willingly. She could only hope the chief would be gentle and his appetite would be weak.
Naive or what!
Sadly, Yuri was feeling ravenously hungry, and his feast the previous day had put him in the mood for more Fullerton flesh. Yuri took one of Natalie’s hands and raised it above her head – she offered no resistance. He slipped it into one of the leather cuffs on the cross and buckled it in, doing the same to the other so that both of her arms were pinned over her head. Then Yuri knelt, his face directly in front of her crotch, the pussy hidden behind the dress. Gently, like a caring lover that was sensitive to her state, Yuri reached out and touched Natalie’s legs with both hands. He caressed the back of her silky calves then ran up past her thighs till he felt the swell of her pert little ass which was covered modestly by a pair of panties.
He heard her whimper as he gathered the material and pulled it tight then ripped the cotton apart so her panties fell as a tattered rag on the floor. Having bared them beneath the dress, Yuri massaged her ass cheeks; they felt almost boyish when compared to her sister’s much fuller and riper buns. He centred a finger over her tight little pucker, it yielded not a fraction. Yuri let out a grunt full of self-satisfaction.
Returning his hands down the back of Natalie’s legs, Yuri edged them further and further apart until he reached the ankles. By now they were perfectly positioned on the cross and he buckled each ankle into the cuffs at the bottom, securing his sacrificial virgin into a taut spread-eagled position.
The job done, Yuri stood up and took a step back to admire the bound vision. Natalie’s youthful body with its slender limbs so elegantly spread - her face a picture of terrified innocence, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders to fall onto her small but perfect breasts which were contoured by her satin dress.
“So, Miss Fullerton, you wished to plea for your sister. Then I bid you begin.”
Natalie was too terrified to respond, she just gazed at the chief wondering what he had in mind for her. Her vague notion of having sex with him, much as he had teasingly described, a quick deflowering on a comfortable bed, was like a mist that had evaporated with the dawn.
“You seem to have lost the power of speech, Miss Fullerton. I want to hear you beg.”
“Please, please, spare my sister.”
“I told you before - no argument will win me over. I want you to beg me sincerely to take you and make you mine. I suggest you start with the removal of your dress.”
Natalie just gazed at him as the reality sunk in. She was going to be deflowered, and she must welcome the act – but how could that be when she hated the man for contriving the situation. And what did he mean by making her his? How far would this go? How much must she sacrifice to save Vicky’s life?
“The sands of time are running fast, Miss Fullerton - and my tolerance is wearing thin.”
“Please, please take off my dress,” she bleated, seeing no other option but to give the chief what he wanted – at least in body if not in soul.
Yuri noted the compliance – another step towards surrender. But more would be needed before she was properly enslaved like her sister now was. He took another small one, electing to fall short of being named her master, for the moment at least. “From now on your will refer to me as ‘sir’. Is that clear?”
Natalie gulped. “Yes, sir,” she answered, which came surprisingly easy – certainly a lot easier than the words that followed. “Please, sir, remove my dress.”
Chief Karinov smiled at her progress then he walked away into the shadows of the chamber. He returned carrying an enormous steel knife.
Natalie went rigid; her breath tearing in and out of her in broken gasps. She stared at the knife with wide frightened eyes, but Yuri only smiled in response, teasingly stroking the blade with his fingers to heighten her distress. Then he stepped closer and held t
he blade before her liquid eyes. He ran it flat across her moistened cheek then dragged it down before inserting it into the low neckline of her dress. Natalie’s breath froze with the cold metal against her skin, and she trembled as Yuri drew the blade slowly down the centre of the thin satin garment. The fabric tore easily, slicing through the middle, the end of the blade only millimetres from her skin. She sensed its deathly presence as it passed between her breasts, over her stomach and the slit of her pussy, then quickly flicked between her legs to complete the dastardly deed. She was left semi-clad with two flaps of satin barely covering her modesty. Yuri took them in his hands and pulled them gently apart, exposing Natalie’s naked body.
Yuri stood back again and purred at the sight. Her helplessness was intoxicating. He devoured her with his coal black eyes - her long flowing blonde hair, her petite girlish breasts with their coral coloured nipples, identical in shade to her sister’s, the plane of her golden tanned stomach and the little thatch of fair hair at the top of her thighs which was surrounded by a triangle of white to highlight her sex. How could he resist such a treasure for long? But he forced a restraint, relishing this game that could only have one winner.
“I believe it is customary in your country to say something when a request has been met,” mocked Yuri. “You British are forever gushing with them.”
Natalie swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. To be naked and helpless before him was galling enough. This was excruciating for her pride, yet she forced out the words.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you for removing my dress and exposing me.”
“And what would you like me to do now, Miss Fullerton?”
Natalie let out a little sob. The humiliation was almost unbearable, but she saw no alternative. “Please touch me, sir.”
“Where?”
Natalie shivered again. The indignity of the situation was insufferable. She was being forced to guide her seducer, to ask him to pleasure her as if it was her own true will – which in an odd warped way it was. She wanted this trade off - but by God was he extracting his pound of flesh!
