The Files of Art. Inc.: Anna Romanova and the Cross of Romanov Chapter 21 (13.09.2023) (M+F/FF)

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

The Files of Art. Inc.: Anna Romanova and the Cross of Romanov Chapter 21 (13.09.2023) (M+F/FF)

Post by Caesar73 »

@GreyLord @Bandit666 @banshee @Beaumains @Bigballgag1 @Trammel @wolfman @mrjones2009 @slackywacky @Nainur @Shotrow @TightsBound @Pantyhose971 @TayDay95 @NotSeen @AlexUSA3





Anna Romanova and the Cross of Romanov


Prologue: Russia, Saint Petersburg, February 1918: Alexander Newsky Monastery


Metropolit Kyril stood under the central cupola of the Holy Trinity Cathedral, the main Church of the Monastery. The vast building was empty. From outside shots could be heard, shouted commandos. Wooden battering rams were hauled against the massive doors of the main entrance.

Still the massive gates held against the onslaught. Kyril turned to the young monk standing before him “Go now my son it is about time, your task is of the utmost importance, may the lord bless you and keep you, do your sacred duty to god and the Tsar. You must not fail!”

“I will not Eminence!” The young dark haired monk, kissed his superiors ring, bowed a final time and vanished into the darkness of the vast church. Kyril strode down the nave. In the same time the massive gates gave way, and were blown out of her hinges. Red Army Soldiers stormed into the Cathedral, led by a tall thin man, wearing the uniform of a Political Commissar, his dark eyes burning fiercely with the zeal of the zealot.

“Stop this, this is a house of worship!” the imperial sounding baritone of the Metropolit gave the pillaging soldiers pause, so great was its authority “Out of my way pope!” Political Commissar Vladimir Samsonov bellowed, his Makarov directly aiming between the priest´s brown eyes. Sansonov was surprised. He saw no fear there, instead the Metropolit projected calmness and authority.

Sansonow mastered his surprise “Where is the treasure of the Romanovs and above all the Cross of Romanov?” he demanded. With an air of regret Kyril shook his head “My son I cannot tell you that. My loyalty belongs to God, the Holy Mother Church and the most noble and ancient House of Romanov” The two men locked eyes. And it was not the Metropolit who broke eye contact first.

The Polit Commissar pulled the trigger. The projectile hit the priest between the eyes, the power of its impact hurled him backwards, his lifeless body crashed to the floor. With unseeing eyes he stared at the vaulted ceiling. Samsonov turned to his men: “I want this monastery searched from the cellars to the attics. Turn every stone!”

“It will be done!” the soldier saluted. The search was long, it was thorough. No proverbial stone was left unturned.

But the treasure of the Romanov and the Cross were never found - to this day.


Day 1: The present, Hamburg, early February,

Parking Garage, Neuer Jungfernstieg 12:

1000 hours:


Chris von der Marwitz, CEO of Art. Incorporated stepped out of her red metallic Mercedes CLA Coupe, locked it and strode to the Elevator. Somehow was wrong with the lights. Normally the parking garage was brightly lit, now certain areas where hidden in shadows. Her blue Gianvito 105 High Heels clicked on the floor.

On her right the blonde spotted a dark van, partly shrouded in shadow. Her neck hairs rose – and so the sudden attack did not met her totally with surprise. A pair of strong arms pressed her arms against her sides, the second one pressed a sweetly smelling cloth on her nose.

Chris stamped one attacker with her left heel forcefully on the foot. A grunt of pain and the grip of her attacker loosened. Her well-aimed head butt hit him fully on the nose the cracking of bones told the blonde his nose was broken. With her left knee she hit the second assailant fully between the legs he crumbled to the floor like a jackknife.

Chris head felt dizzy and so she reacted slower than usual “Watch your back, always!” the blonde admonished herself She wheeled around, a tad too slow. A fist hit her with devastating force right under her left eye, Chris saw stars. She stumbled, still trying to regain her bearings. As she felt a sharp prick between the breasts, everything went black, she crumbled to the floor. On the floor she laid sprawled like a large doll, during the fight she had lost her heels.

Her four attackers stood around her. One of them pressed his hand against his nose, his companion groaned in pain “The bitch hit me fully between the balls” “Stop whining! You two were careless!” The leader obviously a woman chided them “Wait till I have my way with her!” the man, who had been hit right in the balls hissed “If you do that, your balls will be the least of your problems. The boss´ orders were clear. She is not to be touched – not by you anyway! Now stop whining and get her into the van, we are on a tight schedule!” The woman brushed him off.

Five Minutes later the van left the parking garage. Chris had been hogtied with zip ties, ball gagged and blindfolded: Her arms had been welded together at wrists and elbows, her nylon clad legs at the ankles and under the knees. For good measure her big toes had been zipped together too. Chris captors had pulled a dust mask doused with chloroform over her lower face and nose, forcing her to inhale more of the drug.

45 Minutes later, a private jet took off from a small airfield outside Hamburg City.


Russia, Saint Petersburg, Newsky Avenue around 1200:


Grand Duchesse Anna Alexandrovna Romanova strode along the Newsky Avenue. It was a cold sunny day – and Anna glad for her brown fur cap, the thick matching coat – and her warm gloves. Uncle Fyodor had been mysterious at the phone, which was untypical for him.

Normally jolly and warm, he had sounded a bit guarded and insisted that Anna would come over for lunch at 1200. He had called her three days ago out of the blue – and basically summoned her from Hamburg to the City of Peter the Great.

Finally she had reached a three story Palais. She entered the entry code and chose to take the imposing stairwell and not the elevator. The heels of her brown boots clicked eerily on the polished marble stairs.

The violinist had walked these stairs more often than she could remember. Among her relatives Uncle Fyodor had been her favourite. He had been always kind and supported her musical career since her earliest days – he had a heart, contrary to her mother …

Anna pressed the doorbell. A deep gong verberated through the air: Steps came nearer from the other side, the imposing wooden door swung open “Your Grace!” Ivan Mikhailovich greeted her warmly. Ivan Mikhailovich was Butler, Private Secretary – and friend of her Uncle.

He took Anna´s cap, her coat, her shawl and her gloves. The thick carpets swallowed the sounds of her high heeled boots. Ivan bade her into the spacious living room. On the threshold she stopped dead in her tracks, as if she had run in an invisible barrier.

“What is she doing here!” she demanded furiously. Anna confronted her uncle: “If I had known, she would be here, I would not have come!” her eyes were blazing now. “That´s why I did not tell you Anouchka” her uncle smiled warmly “Come, sit down – there is a reason why your mother is here. It is important, that we talk”

Anna stood a moment on the threshold, different emotions crossed her face. Revulsion, Anger, hate? “I am a Romanova!” she told herself, pulled herself together, crossed the distance to her uncle who rose from the chair hugged her tightly and kissed her on the cheeks “Take a seat” he bade her.

Anna acknowledged the presence of her mother with a curt nod “Mother” – then she sat down as far from her mother as possible.

“Tea, Fyodor Alexandrovich?” Boris Mikhailovich inquired politely “Of course Boris” Anna´s uncle nodded. When tea had been served, his Private Secretary retreated. The dark haired violinist took a sip of the hot brew, before she sat her delicate china cup down and looked first at her uncle then at her mother. Elizabetha Romanova, now in her early seventies looked like an older version of her daughter. Anna´s uncle and her mother exchanged a look. Uncle Fyodor nodded subtly.

“Anna, I know, you have good reason to mistrust me” Anna snorted “Mistrust? That is one way to put it “Anna” her mother continued calmly “I will come directly to the point “You remember the story about lost treasure of our family – and the Cross of Romanovs?”

The violinist nodded guardedly “It vanished in February 1918 and has been lost ever since – what has changed?”

“Something quite important” her Uncle added evenly “Credible evidence has come to light that it does still exist” Anna´s eyebrows rose “Certain parties have a keen interest in retrieving the treasure” Elizabetha Romanova continued “That must not happen - it belongs to the family”

“I know that tune” Anna made no effort to hide her sarcasm “Above all the family” “Anouchka” her uncle laid gently a hand on her arm “This is different “This treasure belongs to the Russian People – not to some rich Oligarch who hides in some vault” Grudgingly his niece nodded “Right – and you want me to find it?” “That´s the general idea” her mother nodded – “finding and retrieving lost art is some kind of your speciality” Anna bit down another sarcastic commentary – this was the first time her mother had acknowledged her other line of work.

Her career as a violinist had been one thing, her work as a detective and investigator something entirely different. While the first had been acceptable, the second had been conduct unbecoming for a Grand Grand Niece of Tsar Nicolaus II. At least if Elizabetha Petrovna Romanova was concerned.

Anna fixated her uncle with a long look “I will have to talk with Chris about this – and I need you to get me a historian” Fyodor smiled “You have an appointment with Doctor Anastasia Organossova at 1000 at the Institute of History tomorrow – you will like her” Anna wagged a finger at him “So you assumed I would heed the call of family?” she accused her Uncle almost half in jest.

“Let me put it this way” her Uncle smiled warmly “I assumed you would do the right thing” A polite knock at the door interrupted them, Boris stood on the Threshold “Dinner is served Sir!” Fyodor clapped into his hands “Come Anna, come Elizabetha – let us have Dinner!”


Russia, unknown Location, a cell underground, 1500:

Chris felt as if someone hammered with a sledgehammer between her temples. Her eyes felt like glued shut. She drifted back into unconsciousness again. When she awoke the next time the hammering in her head had receded to a dull throbbing. Her throat felt dry like sandpaper.

With some effort she opened her eyes and stared at a white ceiling. Groaning she sat up – and waited till her head stopped spinning. She laid on a mattress. The Room, more a suite was windowless: Obviously she was underground. Only in this moment the blonde realized that she had been undressed:

She wore a down filled blue suit with built in feet “I wear at least my own underwear still” Chris surmised, after a closer inspection “How did I land here?” Obviously her mind was working in slow motion still. There had been the attack in the parking garage, she had fended off two attackers, the third had landed at hit under her left eye, then she had been shot, then darkness. The blonde touch her skin under left eye and winced.

She took a closer look at her surroundings: In one corner was a round table with to chairs. On it stood a bottle with mineral water and two glasses: this reminded Chris how thirsty she was, she got up, winced and crossed the distance to the table. The carpet felt soft under her feet. The blonde did not bother to fill a glass, took the bottle and drained it with several large gulps.

Now she felt better, her head was clearer now. She tapped into the tilted bathroom and splashed some water first in her face. The bruise under her left eye looked ugly. Chris used the toilet – that she was under surveillance was a safe assumption.

The blonde walked back into the main room and sat in the lotus seat on the bed, here mind spinning “Where am I? What am I doing here?” were the most pressing questions. How late was it? Her inner clock told her that it had to be afternoon. “For all other questions I have to wait” Chris concluded – and sighed

Her stomach reminded her, that it did want sustenance. For a while she sat on the bed. Eventually Chris jumped from the bed, and made some stretching movements, she felt restless. A soft click interrupted her: The massive door swung open. Four men entered, clad in some sort of combat dresses.

“Military” the blonde assumed automatically. Their bearing, their looks: Two men took positions left and right from the door. The other two rolled a wheelchair in, with leather straps in strategic places. On its seat lay a couple of manacles – and a panel gag, with a large thick foam ball in its centre.

The four covered each other, but if they thought they could intimidate her by this show of force they were wrong “Wow guys, you are really brave, four against one?” She looked the guard at the left side of the door in the eye “I know you, you hit me in the face – in for a rematch?” Chris provoked him “You will follow orders – or we will make you” the man told her in heavily accented English “Then make me” the blonde whispered “you girl!” Chris had obviously struck a nerve, the guard made a move at her – and blocked the line of fire of his comrades.

The blonde attacked with a quick combination, always keeping her attacker between her and the other guards. Chris kick against his chest send him flying against the wall. She felt another prick between her breasts. She crumbled to the floor. The blonde was not unconscious just paralyzed.

Her handlers acted quickly: Not overly gently, one mitted her hands, the other ones shackled her wrists and ankles, gagged her with the large panel gag and hauled her into the wheel chair – and strapped her in, while the man she had bested rose to his feet – and glared at her. A heavily padded sleep mask and ear buds robbed her of most of her senses.

She was wheeled out of her cell. Obviously the rolled her down a floor. Then an elevator: Chris sensed the physical presence of her guards. Her body was still paralyzed, but the effects of the dart where wearing off. Chris felt the elevator moving up, five, 10 seconds? As she was rolled along further, the atmosphere had changed. Deprived of most of her senses she could still feel: A long corridor, the air was cooler. Chris counted. 120 seconds. They stopped. She was wheeled into another room. Here the air was warmer.

Someone fumbled at her mask, while another pair of hands removed her ear buds. It took Chris some seconds till her senses had adjusted: The room she was in reminded her off a movie about Catherine the Great she had seen once.

Her chair stood before a large, impressive writing desk, made of polished red wood: Mahogany? Behind the desk sat a man. His cool grey eyes were gliding over her body, keen intense – for a moment they rested on her full bossom “Men!” He was in his fifties? Chris estimated: Sharp chiselled features, short cropped grey hair. A small smile curled his lips – which did not reach his eyes. Chris did not know his name, but was sure to have seen his face somewhere. The news?

He stood and walked around the desk: He was very tall, probably almost seven feet. He closed the distance till he loomed over Chris forcing her to crane her neck, to look up at him “It is a pleasure to meet you Miss von der Marwitz!” he addressed her, his baritone rich and resonating.

Gently he stroked above the bruise under her left eye “You are real wildcat, you broke Igor´s nose and Piotr´s balls are green and blue I heard” he chuckled “I forgot my manners Miss von der Marwitz, my name is Boris Oblomov” Obviously he saw some recognition in Chris´ bright green eyes.

“What do you think? We all behave like civilized people and have a cup of tea together” Oblomov stressed civilized “Hypocrite” Chris fumed – but she nodded. At a curt nod of her host her guards loosened the straps holding her to the chair. With difficulties, she stood and shuffled along after Oblomov. As she shuffled along Chris registered for the first time the presence of a woman standing in the shadows near the large fireplace. She could not see her clearly though.

The Oligarch bade Chris to take a seat, and at another nod of him, her guards removed the gag and the mittens. She flexed her fingers – and licked her lips. The tea was steaming hot – and strong, but Chris enjoyed it nevertheless. The blonde sat her cup down and looked the Russian directly in the eye “Why am I here?” she addressed him as calmly as she could she was so sick of this mind games. She had been drugged abducted and abused.

“My dear Miss von der Marwitz” Oblomov addressed her, a small smile still curling his lips “You are here, because we have a mutual friend, and I need this friend to do something for me. To ensure she will do what I want from her, you are here.

For the next eight days you will be my guest – and treated as such. If the Grand Duchesse does not accomplish the task I demand of her ….” He let the last sentence hanging in the air. Chris was fuming, being reduced to an object did not sit well with her.

The blonde supressed her anger, took another sip “Your hospitality seems as cold as the weather” The Oligarch chuckled “You have spunk” I must give you that. Believe me Miss von der Marwitz in eight days you will like my hospitality so much you won´t want to leave!” “That” Chris returned calmly “I doubt”

Oblomov looked at his watch “Miss von der Marwitz, as much as I would like to continue our conversations, other matters demand my attention – I will leave you now to Natasha´s most capable hands!” The woman stepped out of the shadows. She was tall. High cheekbones, her dark hair in a severe bun, piercing grey eyes – clad in a black cat suit and high heeled boots “Gag and mitt Miss von der Marwitz!” she ordered Chris´ guards – and the men complied.

Chris winced as the gag was pulled tight, very tight – the mittens too. Her guards pulled her to her feet. Natasha closed the distance. Till her face was only centimetres away from Chris. Green eyes drilled into grey ones.

The hard and precise jab came out of the blue and hit Chris in the stomach, hard and precise. The blonde flinched. But barely so “Impressive” Natasha chuckled “So much self-control” Chris fumed, her nostrils flaring “We will have soo much fun!” her handler grinned “Strap her into the wheelchair and apply blindfold and ear buds!”

Oblomov had followed the scene with much amusement “Miss von der Marwitz I am looking forward to see you again!” This was the last thing Chris heard, before the ear buds robbed her of her hearing and the blindfold of her sight.

She had trouble controlling her emotions. Sensei Nakamura would have reprimanded her sharply. Obviously they took the same way back: The long corridor, the elevator. Chris counted: Not 10 but 15 seconds – obviously another, deeper level. Another corridor, the air felt cooler on her skin.

A short stop – Chris guessed another door was opened – she was rolled forward again, and then they stopped. Blindfold and earbuds were removed: Chris looked around: There was Natasha, obviously enjoying the moment as the blonde was processing what she was seeing:

They were in a large cellar: In a vast furnace raged a fire: Chris saw all the paraphernalia of a torture chamber “Now we will have some fun!” Natasha smiled down at her – and gestured to her guards “Release her of the chair. Soon Chris stood, staring at her handler “We will have to produce a little video Miss von Marwitz, to ensure the cooperation of the Grand Duchess” Natasha told her smiling “You have a choice though: You follow all orders to the letter – or you will be zapped into oblivion – so how will it be?”

Chris was seriously tempted, but what would it get her? She had to conserve her strength. The next eight days would not be a walk in the park, that much was sure “So I will play along” she decided. She nodded her consent. A small smile curled her handler´s lips, as if she had expected that reaction “The guards will release you – and you will strip – all the way!” Chris green eyes conveyed pure hate – but she did comply.

She treated Natasha with a withering glare as she pulled down the zipper of the suit. Without any obvious haste, she pulled first her left then the right arm out the garment and let it with a casual roll of her shoulders glide to the floor.

Chris stepped out of it and on the cold stony floor of the dungeons, arms akimbo. She turned to the guards – and rolled her shoulders “You like what you see?” She teased them, before she unhooked her bra ….

20 Minutes later the blonde found herself balancing on the balls of her feet. Her ankles had been shackled one metre apart. Her arms were shackled high above her head. A large ball gag jacked her jaws apart with glee the Russian had stuffed her panties in her mouth, before she forced the large red ball into Chris´ mouth.

Natasha took in the sight before her “It is incredible hot here” she smiled ominously and took of her uniform jacket and her bra – Chris had to admit that her bossom was impressive she walked to a rack, where all sorts of whips and other instruments of torture laid. She took one, Chris could not see which one till Natasha turned around “You know what a tonfa is right?” The blonde stared just back and steeled herself.

Slowly the Russian strode nearer, till Chris could sense the heat of the other woman. Natasha let the smooth wood glide above her skin, between her breasts, touched her nipples gently, she touched the soft muscular flesh of Chris inner thighs above the knee, glided upwards “You know” Natasha whispered “Tonfa can be pleasure and it can be pain. What will it be?” Her stroke hit the blonde´s inner thigh right under her groin – a sharp pain shot upwards into her brain. Chris steeled herself for the next blow ….
Last edited by Caesar73 6 months ago, edited 26 times in total.
Image
User avatar
algebrauk
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 26
Joined: 1 year ago

Post by algebrauk »

And so it begins.... looking forward to this developing. :)
User avatar
mrjones2009
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 612
Joined: 5 years ago
Contact:

Post by mrjones2009 »

A shocking kidnapping to start this tale!

Looks likes Chris is in for a tough time and Anna will have a decision to make. Friends or family.

Or could she find a way to save her friend and help her family! We shall see. Whatever it will surely be a great ride.
GreyLord
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 2257
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Southern USA

Post by GreyLord »

You have carefully and artistically created your villains,[mention]Caesar73[/mention]. Chris it tied up and helpless in a dungeon by a skilled sadist that will produce clips to influence Anna. As [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] commented, Anna has a most difficult task if finding a way to save Chris and achieve her family mission. So far, I feel that you are on track to create one of your best tales yet.
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
User avatar
Fandango
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 240
Joined: 1 year ago
Location: Western United States

Post by Fandango »

An excellent set-up. I'm looking forward to see how this progresses from both Chris and Anna's storylines. I love the jet setting, open world scope of your stories and it looks like you've got another exciting one developing here.
User avatar
LunaDog
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 640
Joined: 2 years ago
Location: England

Post by LunaDog »

Absolutely FANTASTIC! Right out of the VERY Top Drawer. Looking forward to more of this!
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Caesar73 »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]Shotrow[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention] [mention]Fandango[/mention] [mention]LunaDog[/mention]

Fandango wrote: 1 year ago An excellent set-up. I'm looking forward to see how this progresses from both Chris and Anna's storylines. I love the jet setting, open world scope of your stories and it looks like you've got another exciting one developing here.
Thank you for your most kind words! A thank you goes also to [mention]LunaDog[/mention] [mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] and [mention]algebrauk[/mention]

Chronologically this story plays before the Hunt for the Weinstein-Collection, so you might miss several members of the main cast you already know. On the other hand you get to know two other characters better besides Anna and Chris


Here follows a preview of the next chapter:


Preview


Chapter 2


“A Bargain with the Devil”


Day 1: Russia, Saint Petersburg, 1800 hours:



After Dinner with her Uncle and her Mother Anna had gone for the Eremitage, seeing her mother again had unnerved her – and she had to digest all the informations Uncle Fyodor had provided her with. To her surprise she and her mother almost had a cordial conversation during dinner. Not really surprising: They had not touched any sensitive topic.

On her way to the Eremitage she had tried to call Chris, but the calls had gone straight to voice mail. Now she was on her way to her apartment, near the Fontanka Embankment. The Russian could not shake the feeling that she was followed – and so she was happy when she had closed the door of the Apartment Complex behind her. Her Apartment was on the second floor. Anna entered the entry code and pressed the light switch. Nothing happened. The hit on her head caught her entirely by surprise, she tumbled to the floor.


Around the same time unknown location, the Dungeons:

Chris sweated, her muscles quivered – she had lost any track of time. But she felt the pain only as a distant sensation. The blonde had retreated to her safe haven, when the pain had become excruciating. She had closed her mind, focused, till all other noises had receded to nothingness. And finally she had stepped into the inner courtyard of Himeji Castle. Under a large tree a man was standing who beaconed her to come nearer, he looked like a reincarnation of the character Hikaru Sulu from Star Trek – old and wise.

She smiled, she knew that man Chris walked across the gravel of the courtyard till she stood only two metres away from her Sensei “Nakamura Sama” she bowed “Welcome Christine San, I have waited for you” he greeted her warmly – and scrutinized her with his keen dark eyes “We have not seen each other in a long time, you are hurting” he observed with some concern.

He had ever been so good at reading her “I am Master” Chris acknowledged freely “I needed to retreat from the place where I am right now” Her Sensei nodded “Then come, let us go for a walk and talk about affairs. How are you Chris?”

And the blonde talked while they walked the courtyard. Suddenly Chris was hauled back into the not so pleasant present. Before her stood the smiling Natasha, pushing her chin up with the round end of the Tonfa “I wonder where you have been, your eyes were oddly blank” The blonde just stared back.

And now she felt the many places where here body hurt “I think we have made a real illustrative movie for the Grand Duchesse” her Handler smiled, before continuing “We will let you down now, you will redress – and then it´s back to your quarters.

[....]
Last edited by Caesar73 11 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
Image
GreyLord
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 2257
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Southern USA

Post by GreyLord »

Tantalizing, as expected.
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
User avatar
LunaDog
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 640
Joined: 2 years ago
Location: England

Post by LunaDog »

Caesar73 wrote: 1 year ago Thank you for your most kind words! A thank you goes also to @LunaDog
[....]
It's ME that needs to thank you, for creating this TOTALLY magnificent piece of work for us to enjoy!
User avatar
Fandango
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 240
Joined: 1 year ago
Location: Western United States

Post by Fandango »

Excellent. This preview is a nice little amuse bouche for what looks to be a enjoyable, stirring story.

I thoroughly enjoy the way that you weave history and culture and music and other interests into your stories. I just finished A Gentleman in Moscow not too long ago and I'm excited to get another look into Russia in the wake of the Bolshevik Revolution. And the fact that the history lesson is interspersed with sultry bondage escapades only makes it more enjoyable.

Good luck and keep up the great work.

I do have one question about saga chronology and recommended reading order but I'll ask it in your PMs, if you don't mind.
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Caesar73 »

Fandango wrote: 1 year ago
Good luck and keep up the great work.

I do have one question about saga chronology and recommended reading order but I'll ask it in your PMs, if you don't mind.
Thank you very much [mention]Fandango[/mention]! I will do my very best - ask away freely :)
Image
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Caesar73 »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]Shotrow[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention] [mention]Fandango[/mention] [mention]LunaDog[/mention]

Chapter 2 will bei online later that day!
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
Image
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Caesar73 »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]Shotrow[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention] [mention]Fandango[/mention] [mention]LunaDog[/mention]


Chapter 2


“A Bargain with the Devil”


Day 1: Russia, Saint Petersburg, 1800 hours:




After Dinner with her Uncle and her Mother Anna had gone for the Eremitage, seeing her mother again had unnerved her – and she had to digest all the informations Uncle Fyodor had provided her with. To her surprise she and her mother almost had a cordial conversation during dinner. Not really surprising: They had not touched any sensitive topic.

On her way to the Eremitage she had tried to call Chris, but the calls had gone straight to voice mail. Now she was on her way to her apartment, near the Fontanka Embankment. The Russian could not shake the feeling that she was followed – and so she was happy when she had closed the door of the Apartment Complex behind her. Her Apartment was on the second floor. Anna entered the entry code and pressed the light switch. Nothing happened. The hit on her head caught her entirely by surprise, she tumbled to the floor.


Around the same time unknown location, the Dungeons:

Chris sweated, her muscles quivered – she had lost any track of time. But she felt the pain only as a distant sensation. The blonde had retreated to her safe haven, when the pain had become excruciating. She had closed her mind, focused, till all other noises had receded to nothingness. And finally she had stepped into the inner courtyard of Himeji Castle. Under a large tree a man was standing who bade her to come nearer, he looked like a reincarnation of the character Hikaru Sulu from Star Trek – old and wise.

Notice for the reader: You may know Himeji Castle from the James Bond Movie “You only live twice” – it is one of the largest and most well preserved castles of old Japan. One of only two:

Image




She smiled, the blonde knew that man. Chris walked across the gravel of the courtyard till she stood two metres only away from her Sensei “Nakamura Sama” she bowed “Welcome Christine San, I have waited for you” he greeted her warmly – and scrutinized her with his keen dark eyes “We have not seen each other in a long time - you are hurting” he observed with some concern.

He had ever been so good at reading her “I am Master” Chris acknowledged freely “I needed to retreat from the place where I am right now” Her Sensei nodded “Then come, let us go for a walk and talk about affairs. How are you Chris?”

And the blonde talked while they walked the courtyard. Suddenly Chris was hauled back into the not so pleasant present. Before her stood the smiling Natasha, pushing her chin up with the round end of the Tonfa “I wonder where you have been, your eyes were oddly blank” The blonde just stared back.

And now she felt the many places where here body hurt “I think we have made a real illustrative movie for the Grand Duchesse” her Handler smiled, before continuing “We will let you down now, you will redress – and then it´s back to your quarters.

The Russian nodded to one of the guards, who pressed a button – and Chris could stand finally flat footed on the stony floor, which was a blessing. The pulley was further lowered, till her manacled wrists could be released. As the blood streamed back into her fingers, the pianist would have almost screamed, but she composed herself.

Natasha had redressed and watched as Chris´ handlers unshackled her wrists and legs. She would have almost fallen to the floor as she finally could move her legs again. But Chris was determined to show no weakness.

One of her guards handed her the down filled suit. Putting it on costed her all energy she could still muster …. Chris´ Handlers restrained her to the wheelchair, blindfolded her with the heavily padded sleep mask. Ear buds rendered her deaf.

20 Minutes later Chris stood naked in white tilted bathroom and inspected her body in the large mirror: There was the ugly bruise under her left eye, several haematoma. The Russian was an expert with the Tonfa: She had hit precise and hard – to cause maximum pain without damaging the canvas. The blonde stepped under the shower and showered as hot and as long as she could bear it.

As she crossed the threshold to her chamber again, a turban on her head and clad into a dressing gown, she found a surprise waiting for her: On the table stood a tablet, a goblet, a small bottle of red wine and covered by a bell, her dinner. And only in this moment she registered how hungry she was – since the morning had had nothing to eat.

Carefully she sat down at the table and winced. Even the simple task of filling the goblet was difficult. She lifted the bell: It smelled heavenly, some kind of stew and mashed potatoes. Chris dug in. Finally she put the cutlery aside – the stew had been surprisingly good and the wine too. With some difficulties she stood and went into the bathroom, to do her evening routine.

When she returned, the dishes were gone. The bottle of mineral water though had been replaced. Chris pulled the covers aside and lay down. In the same moment she had covered herself with the soft blanket, it was lights out. In the darkness she stared at the ceiling. She listened to the signals her tired and beaten body send her.

Mentally and bodily the blonde was tired beyond belief, but the little wheels in her head where still turning in high gear. From the way her handlers acted, it was unlikely she would get an opening. Her future prospects were bleak – at best: “I have no idea where I am, I don´t know the lay of the land. I have to face the truth: The only thing I can do is to conserve my strength, learn as much as I can –and rely on Anna” With this thought she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.


Russia, Saint Petersburg, 2000 hours:



Anna regained her senses only slowly – and it took her foggy mind several minutes to process the different informations her body and other senses send her: She had entered her apartment as a brutal hit on the back of her head had hit her, then darkness … Anna opened her eyes – she lay on the floor of the soft carpet of the living floor. The Russian wanted to get up – and realised only in this moment that she could not.

She could not because she was tied up and gagged. To be precise she was hogtied. Anna tested her bonds: Her nyloned toes were tightly tied together “You have been relieved of your boots and socks” the functioning part of her brain told her. But it did not stop there: Her long dark hair had been braided and tied to her toes – and elbows.

Which had been tied together as well, the tight crotch rope did not surprise her. And the gag … “You are gagged with your own socks” the small rational voice told her “Your lower face has been shrouded in translucent tape and then covered with a silk scarf” The woollen mass of her brown socks filled her mouth – since she had worn them the whole day, the socks had been very sweaty.

Anna inspected her bonds further: Her attackers had used coarse jute rope to tie her. Her legs had been tied together in five places.

For the first time Anna registered that before her stood a tablet on the floor and next to it laid a knife, a combat knife. In the same moment the screen of the tablet lit. Anna saw a man sitting behind a desk – a man she knew from media reports and the conversation she had today with Uncle Fyodor and her mother: Boris Oblomov. As her Uncle had told her the Oligarch was one of the men, who wanted to lay their hands on the treasure of Romanov – for their own sinister purposes.

“Good evening Your Grace!” the Oligarch greeted her pleasantly “I apologize if my men where a bit rough on you, but so they are at times” his face grew serious “I want you to do something for me: Find the treasure of Romanov and deliver it to me” “In hell” Anna fumed into her gag “I expected that reaction” Oblomov told her pleasantly “So I want to give you a little incentive to do as I say, watch the following movie very closely – you might find it motivating” a malicious chuckle.

The scene changed: A dungeon. In its centre, legs one metre apart, shackled to the floor, stood a naked woman, a blond naked woman. Her manacled hands were held by a pulley hey above her head, so that her body, glistening with sweat, was stretched to the maximum.

An iron fist gripped Anna´s heart, as the Camera zoomed closer: Before the blonde stood a dark haired, bare breasted woman, wielding some sort of baton – a Tonfa! With an almost nonchalantly swing she hit the blonde in the stomach. The Camera zoomed nearer on the face of the blonde. A large red ball gag jacked her jaws apart.

An ugly bruise under her left eye marred her beautiful features. What Anna´s subconscious had known from the moment she saw the blonde on the screen she now realized fully: Chris! Her friend´s normally bright emerald green eyes were oddly blank. They seemed to look right through her.

The perspective of the Camera changed again: Now Anna saw the dark haired woman walking around Chris, hitting her with the baton. The blonde did not struggle though, what Anna surprised – what had they done to her friend? Was she drugged?

Another cut and Boris Oblomov appeared on the screen again “It seems I have your undivided attention know” he chuckled “Listen now very carefully: You will find the treasure for me. Since I am gracious I give you eight days. For eight days Christine von der Marwitz will be my guest. As long as you play ball, nothing serious will happen to her” He stressed “serious” – “Natasha will take good care of her!”

Oblomov´s voice grew cold “If you don´t find the treasure in eight days, or try anything stupid? Consider this, what you just watched as the overture. So do your best – it would be a shame, if your friend loses a finger, or her hand …. The clock is ticking Grand Duchesse!” The screen became blank.

Anna starred at the black screen, still in shock, still trying to comprehend what she had just watched. Minutes passed. Then her gaze fell down onto the combat knife …. “I must get out of this mess!” She began to rock forward to gain traction. It was a tedious and agonizingly slow process. It costed Anna the better part of an hour to get out of the hogtie: Obviously she had been supposed to escape.

With a grown she stood and rubbed her chafed wrists. The lush carpet felt good under her nyloned feet. What now? Getting rid of the gag without losing too much of her long dark hair.

A few minutes later she pulled the soggy wad of her socks out of her mouth. After she had gulped down a glass of water, the violinist pondered her next step. Her first impulse was to call Sybil – but then she stopped in her tracks:

Oblomov´s goons had probably searched the apartment … Anna went in her bed room, and opened the large closet and stepped inside – to return a few minutes later with a strange device in her hand. Thoroughly she searched the apartment, using the device like a scanner. Whenever it emitted a high pitched beep, she stopped. She repeated the procedure three times.


The same time: unknown location: Command Centre


“Sir, you should see this!” One of the technicians pointed to a screen: it showed Anna searching the apartment “She has found all trackers – this is the only one left” as if on cue, the screen went black. Oblomov shrugged “The Grand Duchesse is no fool that was to be expected. And it does not really matter if she disabled the trackers. She will play ball” He was sure of it.

He had seen the shock on Anna´s face. She never would risk the well-being of her best friend. The Grand Duchesse was absolutely loyal to her friends and would even put her own life on the line to safe them.

Yes, Anna Alexandrovna Romanova would play ball. And he would enjoy the company of the blonde pianist …. he had a reputation as host of beautiful women … not that they were able to give testimony how much he cared about his women anymore …


Russia, Saint Petersburg, 2100 hours:


Anna had showered and redressed. From the closet she had retrieved a heavily shielded box: Inside a heavily encrypted phone, her laptop – and her handgun a Glock 17. She powered the laptop up and connected to the net. On the screen appeared the smiling face of Sybil, the resident hacker, the secretary and the good soul of Art. Inc. Her expression grew serious as she studied Anna´s face more closely “What is it Anna? You look terrible!” “Did you have contact with Chris?” the violinist asked in return “No” Sybil replied “Her car is still in the parking garage – and I cannot trace her phone” Anna nodded “It is true then … listen Sybil; Chris had been kidnapped” Deafening Silence greeted that announcement “What is going on Anna, tell me, how do you know?” Sybil could not hide her concert “And Anna told Sybil about the events of the last hours, after the Russian had finished, Sybil nodded “What do you want me to do Anna?” The violinist pulled herself together “There are several things …”

Minutes later after she had finished the call Anna went into the living room, threw herself into an armchair and starred into the flames of the fireplace. For now, there was nothing more she could do, tomorrow she would meet that historian … and had to hope that they could find the trace of the lost treasure of Romanov.

She feared for Chris´ - her friend was strong, she was resilient, but the next eight days would test her to the limit she knew. Anna knew men like Boris Oblomov, powerful men, who valued beautiful women, as long as they did as they say, as beautiful dolls. No, she, Anna would do everything to find the treasure, to save Chris – if he hurt the pianist – then there would be no place on earth where she would not find him.

Anna powered up the laptop again, wrote several mails, and entered a heavily shielded chat room in the dark net.


Day 2: Russia, unknown Location, Chris quarters early morning:



Chris´ inner clock had woken her around 0600 AM. She had slept deep and dreamless. Her body still hurt, but the pain had receded and it did not reach her. The blonde pulled the covers aside and switched on the light. She found the pair of fluffy slippers next to her bed on the floor and tapped into the bathroom.

Her first impulse was to lay down again and pull the covers over her head again. Resolutely she pushed that notion away – and her ingrained self-discipline took hold. She walked to the large closet across the bed and skimmed through its contents – and found some clothing suitable for exercise: Chris selected a black sports bra and white leggings.

She dressed and then she willed her still aching body to do her usual morning routine: The blonde warmed up – and began with Tai Chi. Chris knew perfectly well, Sensei Nakamura would have chided her, for the sloppy execution of some moves.

But her Sensei, who had been a father surrogate to her, would have understood why she was not at her level best, he would expect though, she would give the best she could – and that she did.

After her Tai Chi exercises Chris executed some martial arts kata. None of that as fluent and perfect as usual – but the pianist knew she had to stay in shape, if she wanted to get through these eight days and so she continued. Eventually she bowed before an invisible opponent, held the position for a spell, stood straight – and walked into the bathroom. She felt better now – and somewhat ready for things to come.

Her breakfast was of the continental variety. She would have preferred green tea, but the black Russian was just as well. As she had been ordered she dressed again into another one of the down suits, a red one this time. Chris sat down at the table – and waited for her handlers ….


Russia, Saint Petersburg, 1000 hours PM:


Anna had not slept really well. The pictures of the tormented Chris´ had haunted her. At 0600 AM she had got up, put on her running gear and jogged 10 miles: To the Eremitage, along the Admiralty Prospect and back. The exercise had helped to regain her composure. Now she stood before the Institute of History, asked the concierge for directions, walked the long corridors: Students hurried along, staff members stood in corners in animated discussions.

Anastasia Organossova´s office was located on the second floor. The building had been erected in the late 19th Century. The institute itself had been founded in 1934. The wooden floors creaked under her heels. Anna walked down the floor and stood finally before Room Number 234: Doctor Anastasia Organossova, Assistant Professor. She knocked.

Doctor Anastasia Organossova was grading some papers. But her mind was elsewhere. Her benefactor had called her yesterday. She should meet at 1000 AM today with a close relative of him who needed her expertise in a certain matter of the utmost urgency. He had said no more. And now she waited: Intrigued and curious. She had researched the genealogical tree of her benefactor …

A knock at the door interrupted her musings “Enter” she called, the door opened and a very tall woman entered. Dark haired, on her had a sable fur cap she wore a thick stylish brown coat, jeans and knee high sturdy brown boots with a thick rubber sole. The woman closed the distance. She smiled warmly “Doctor Organossova?”

And now Anastasia recognized her, she had seen her on many photos “Your Grace, Grand Duchesse Romanova?” she stuttered. The smile of her visitor broadened “Anna is perfectly fine. Do you mind if I take a seat?” “Of course, of course, please do sit your Grace!” Anastasia´s cheeks turned red. Anna sat down and took of her cap and crossed her long legs.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice” she smiled “No problem at all” her host hesitated “Anna” “What did my Uncle tell you?” the Grand Duchesse asked “That you need my expertise in a matter of utmost urgency” Anastasia ventured “I see” the dark haired woman nodded – obviously pondering something “What do you think we go out for walk? It is a bit stuffy here and it is such a lovely day!” Again she smiled her dazzling smile. Anastasia had the feeling that this what not just a proposal – and she had registered behind the friendly façade an underlying tension.

10 Minutes later they were walking side by side the Mendeleyevskaja. It was indeed a cold and sunny day. Anna´s senses were on high alert, unobtrusively checking for any surveillance. So far she had sensed none. She turned to the historian “There are a few things you must know before you decide to help me”

Anastasia noticed that the Grand Duchesse still smiled but the she sounded very serious now “We have to deal with people who are dangerous and absolutely ruthless” Anastasia nodded “Who?” Anna sensed a vibration of her smartphone, took it out, looking on the screen for seconds. The historian saw the expression of Anna´s face changing quickly. Gone was all joviality, replaced by rage “People who do this” she snapped and gave Anastasia the phone, her voice quivering with anger.

Anastasia took the phone and swiped across the screen and watched a video clip: She saw a naked blonde woman, a large harness ball gag in her mouth. Her body contorted in a cruel hogtie. She rocked slightly forwards and backwards. Her big toes had bound to the d-ring on the crown of her head, her braided hair had obviously been tied to her toes too.

With quivering hands she gave Anna the phone back “Who does that? And who is that woman?” Anna smiled grimly “Let me tell you!” and began to explain.
Image
User avatar
Nainur
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 643
Joined: 4 years ago
Location: Germany

Post by Nainur »

ooooohhhhh, again tension and suspense galore!
GreyLord
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 2257
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Southern USA

Post by GreyLord »

Intrigue, high adventure, mystery, beautiful women tied up. What else could one want? Well, I would want for Chris not to be tortured. But tying her up is great. Oligarchs, like our Captains of Industry, have egos that far outshine their actual capabilities. Will that be the downfall of Boris?
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Caesar73 »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]Shotrow[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention] [mention]Fandango[/mention] [mention]LunaDog[/mention]

GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago Intrigue, high adventure, mystery, beautiful women tied up. What else could one want? Well, I would want for Chris not to be tortured. But tying her up is great. Oligarchs, like our Captains of Industry, have egos that far outshine their actual capabilities. Will that be the downfall of Boris?
If Boris Oblomov will lay his greedy hands on the treasure of the Romanovs? Future will tell. Surely he has a very high opinion of himself - and is convinced that his plan is foulproof. And for now he has little reason to believe otherwise: Anna will do anything to save Chris.

Chapter 3


“Courage is found in unlikely places.”


Day 2: Russia, unknown Location, the Dungeons – around the same time:



Chris hovered on the threshold of a trancelike state. Slowly she rocked backwards and forwards. Around 0800 AM the door of her quarters had opened. Again four guards, again the wheelchair. She had stood and presented her arms to her handlers. They had shot her nevertheless with a tranquiliser gun: they had gagged her, blindfolded her, manacled her stuffed her ears – and strapped her to the wheelchair.

In the dungeons her earbuds, her blindfold – and the straps that held her to the chair had been removed. Natasha smiled down at her “Get up lazy bones” Chris did not move “Up!” Natasha demanded, she was about to deliver a backhand stroke at the blonde´s face as one of her guards interrupted her, a bit sheepishly “We stunned her, before we tied her up” “Men” Natasha muttered, then smiled at Chris “You have left quite the impression Chris!” “Okay boys!” she turned to the guards “I can handle it from here”

Chris could still not move a muscle, but her handler was surprisingly strong: She manhandled Chris´ unresisting body on a large table in the centre on the chamber and stripped her out of the down-filled suit and her underwear – and removed even the gag. Still paralyzed she laid on her stomach – and drooled.

Natasha had inspected her body “Remarkable, the bruises have almost faded” her hands glided above the blonde´s soft skin, the soft soles of her feet “Such beautiful strong feet” her voice a tad huskier – and those exquisite toe rings. Chris fumed inwardly “If could move, I would so kick your ass!” Obviously her handlers had overdosed the drug paralyzing her. She could still not move even a toe, or a finger.

“You know” she heard Natasha speaking “I prefer 550 parachute cord to tie someone up properly, only the best for you!” The blonde cursed inwardly if they talked about this cord? Escape would be impossible – and improperly used, this stuff could cause abrasions and rope burns:

One-hundred percent nylon, 550 was comprised of seven core strands surrounded by a braided sheath, and was about 1/8-inch in diameter. It was used for parachute shrouds, and by the military as a general utility cord.

Chris´ handler set to work: She began with tying her wrists palm to palm: A dozen neat and symmetric close loops, cinched. Same went for her ankles. But Natasha had been far from finished:

It was nearly an hour before Natasha had exhausted her supply of cord. Chris had found herself in an incredibly strict, incredibly tight hogtie. Her heels were resting on her hands, and her hands were on her rump. Multiple bands of cord bound her legs together, above and below the knees.

More neat bands bound her elbows together, pinned her arms to her sides, and lashed her thighs to her ankles. Additional cord linked everything together with horizontal, vertical, and diagonal strands; and flat, rosette knots or elegant hitches were tied wherever cord crossed cord.

Before she had ball gagged Chris´ she had stuffed two pairs of used panties in her mouth. Natasha had delivered a firm slap on her rump and tickled her feet – till she had howled into her gag – before she left her: The Russian had dug her long nails with relish in the soft flesh of Chris´ feet, raked her nails across the soles of her victim, from the heels to the tips of her toes: Natasha had not tied only the blonde´s big toes together but all ten.

Since then roughly an hour had passed: The blonde had tested her bonds – but Natasha´s knots where inescapable. Chris concentrated and her eyes became blank again … Sensei Nakamura was waiting …



Russia, Saint Petersburg, 1100 hours PM:


“And this is, why we need to find the treasure in eight days from now” Anna concluded “Will you help me? As you see this can be dangerous, and I understand if you have second thoughts”

Anastasia looked straight at her “I will help you” she said firmly “Think again” the violinist pressed on “It can be very well be, that you have to leave Russia, when all of this is over” The historian sounded a little impatient as she replied “I know that – and believe me, Russia these days is not a paradise to life in”

“I know” Anna responded calmly “But I wanted you to be sure. So how are we are proceeding from here?” Anastasia smiled “Searching the archives – as any Historian does! Back to the sources! We are going to the RGIA!” The younger woman sounded almost euphoric “RGIA?” Anna was at a loss “The Russian State Historical Archive!” Anastasia exclaimed “This is where we must go!” Anna shrugged “Then lead the way!”



Day 2: Russia, unknown Location, the Dungeons around midday



Chris was roused from her trance induced day dream: Natasha was severing her bonds with some sort of bolt cutter. Her gag had remained in place. As her sore and aching muscles told Chris, some hours must have passed. Finally the last of her bonds had been severed.

Exhausted she laid face down on the stone table, the stone felt cool on the left side of her face. Intrigued Natasha saw that after two or three minutes the blonde marshalled her strength, pushed herself upright and sat up, her legs dangling down. Her whole body was covered in rope marks from neck to toe.

“Want to get rid of the gag?” Natasha asked. Chris nodded carefully her neck still felt like a column of cement, there was an audible “crack” when she moved it “Hold still” her handler admonished her as she loosened one strap of the harness gag after the other. The large ball came free – but Chris did not try to move her jaws.

Patiently she waited till her handler plucked first one, then the other pair of soggy panties out of her gaping mouth. She did not resist in any way as Natasha pressed a water bottle against her dry lips. Chris drank in slow sips, and slowly the feeling returned into her numb jaws. She looked her captor in the eye “Thank you!” she whispered.

The two women exchanged a look, they measured each other up “Get dressed” Natasha handed the down filled suit over to the blonde who put it on with some difficulty “You have two hours rest and for dinner – use it well” the Russian said “Then it will be time for the afternoon session!” The following drill was the usual: Chris dressed, was shackled, mitted, blindfolded and gagged and strapped to the wheelchair.

In her quarters she undressed, showered, put on a fresh suit and enjoyed dinner, some sort of boeuf bourgeon, then she rested – she fell at sleep almost at once. When here handlers came next for her, she felt as if she had barely closed her eyes – she struggled to her feet, this time she was not stunned at least.


Russia, Saint Petersburg, RGIA, 1400:


The Russian State Historical Archive, or Rossiyskiy Gosudarstvennyy Istoricheskiy Arkhiv, was an imposing modern complex Anna found. As Anastasia had explained to her it was the largest archive in Europe and one of the largest in the world with over seven million items in store.

Anna and her guide had taken the Metro. Anna loved this Metro and using it had the additional advantage to detect and shake any unwanted shadows. So far she had not noticed any obvious followers, but once or twice her neck hairs rose. There were other competitors in play not just Oblomov.

As they walked up the stairs to the imposing main entrance of the RGIA she was sure: They were followed “Anna did you notice the pair behind us?” Anastasia inquired “Don´t turn around” the violinist hissed “Act perfectly normal” The Historian wondered about Anna´s sharp reaction – but after what had happened to her friend, her reaction was quite understandable.

They entered the vast entrance hall. As Anna noticed, her shadows did not follow them “They are probably waiting outside” she mused as she followed Anastasia who had taken the lead. As it turned out the Historian was well known and knew her way around the system. The first thing they did was checking the database for documents who might prove useful. Anastasias fingers danced above the keyboard like Anna´s when she played her Stradivarius.

As it happened they were lucky: Many of the documents in questions had been already digitalized. They profited now from the fact that the RGIA was a pet project of the current inhabitant of the Kremlin. And so they delved into the depths of the archives. They spent hours there.

Anna´s eyes were burning, but she was not ready to quit – Chris life was on the line. And so they continued. Anna was used to read old scriptures, autographs – but this was terra incognita for her. Finally Anastasia leaned back from the screen and rubbed her eyes “I propose we are calling it a day and continue it tomorrow – the letters are dancing before my eyes!”

Anna nodded and stretched and winced “Alright” she conceding grudgingly. Anastasia had noticed the shadow that crossed the violinist´s face “It is this just this way: Often you work for days, for weeks, to find the document you are looking for” Anna shook her head “We are on a deadline here, we only have an limited amount of time, and the clock is ticking” The Historian touched her left hand gently “You care very much for her, do you?” The Russian sighed “Chris is my best friend” Then Anna straightened herself “Let us go now – and give it another try tomorrow”

As they left the RGIA and walked to next Metro Station Anna checked for their shadows, but they were gone – or had been replaced by another pair “Wouldn´t you want to stay with me Anastasia? It is safer – and you might be a target now” Anastasia shrugged “I can take care of myself” Anna mustered her sceptically “You can handle a gun?” The Historian shook her head “No, but I took self-defence courses” The Violinist looked at her - long “Anastasia, do me one favour, watch your back – and if there is the slightest sign of trouble, call me!” “Sure” the Historian smiled “I will! Have a good night – and she vanished into the night.

Anna looked after her, thinking. She liked the young Historian – “And I have just to be patient” she thought to herself as she waited for her train at the station. Her neck hairs rose – she was shadowed, but Anna vowed to herself: Anybody who would try to ambush her, was in for a surprise. She had taken precautions. And a small smile crossed her lips.






Day 2: Russia, unknown Location: Hours before

Chris was surprised as she could take in her surroundings: She was not in the dungeons where she had been the previous evening and this day till midday. This time she was in some kind of Spa? Chris had counted ten seconds till the elevator had stopped, so they were a level deeper than the dungeons. The air was humid and warm

There was a pool – and there was some sort of tank … Chris had no good feeling “Time to take a bath Chris!” Natasha greeted them the Russian was barefoot and wore a one piece black bathing suit which enhanced her trained physique.

Two of Chris handlers rolled a trolley to them: On it some items made of neoprene? When she was ordered to undress, Chris thought for a second about resisting but discarded the idea: She was still tired from the hog tie: Her body was still covered in rope marks.

So she complied and offered no resistance was she was manhandled into the full neoprene body sheath. Her arms were pressed against her body. Several straps from her insteps above her breasts enhanced her restraints.

And there were some additional features: A vibrator and a butt plug. The helmet did deprive her of more senses: Chris was blind, deaf and mute: A very large plug filled her mouth. Ear buds robbed her of her hearing sense and the lenses of the helmet were dampened. So she was condemned to darkness and silence. Chris tried to control her breathing: In through the nose. Out through the nose. In through the nose. Out through the nose.

She felt that her body was lifted up, she was carried some stairs up – and plunged into the water. But she did not drown. She floated. The tank was an isolation tank. Natasha´s voice rang into her ears “Enjoy the quiet time and rest!” Silence followed. Darkness and silence:

The sheath compressed her body, aided by the straps –and there were the vibrators. They buzzed on medium level. She was aroused, but frustrated. Quickly she lost sense of time, the total silence wore her down over the course of the next few hours. In some ways this torture was worse than corporeal punishment.

Chris willed herself to concentrate to focus – to no avail. For a short moment she was on the verge of panic, but the blonde fought against it, focused on her breath. Taking slow and deep breaths … and the panic subsided slowly.

Chris concentrated – she had to smile under the mask – in some ways this predicament made it easier to reach the trancelike state she needed to enter her safe place: Himeji Castle. She entered the inner courtyard and smiled. Sensei Nakamura was waiting for her under the large tree.
Last edited by Caesar73 11 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
Image
wolfman
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1176
Joined: 4 years ago

Post by wolfman »

Wow!!! You are really putting Chris through her paces with this tale. She is lucky to have both meditation training to fall back on and Anna on her side.
Awesome as always
Bravo
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
GreyLord
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 2257
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Southern USA

Post by GreyLord »

The [mention]wolfman[/mention] is correct, you are putting Chris through her paces. Your detailed descriptions are marvelous. The parachute chord hogtie was most impressive.
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
User avatar
mrjones2009
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 612
Joined: 5 years ago
Contact:

Post by mrjones2009 »

Poor Chris. Will she ever get payback? Will Anna save her?

Hopefully both! Look forward to the next installment.
User avatar
LunaDog
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 640
Joined: 2 years ago
Location: England

Post by LunaDog »

Guilty pleasure time. I KNOW i shouldn't, i mean Chris and Anna are the 'good girls' but i'm finding it's Natasha who REALLY excites me!
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Caesar73 »

LunaDog wrote: 11 months ago Guilty pleasure time. I KNOW i shouldn't, i mean Chris and Anna are the 'good girls' but i'm finding it's Natasha who REALLY excites me!
There is nothing wrong with that :) Natasha sends her best! And truth to be told? I do love inventing bad guys :)
Image
User avatar
LunaDog
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 640
Joined: 2 years ago
Location: England

Post by LunaDog »

Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago Natasha sends her best!
Could you please thank her for me? For you see, she's inspired me to create a Russian 'villainess' of my own, and i've started work on a story that i'll start posting after i've finished with 'biker' Gail.

She'll be a high ranking K.G.B. officer from the Soviet Union era who uses, and quite frankly abuses, that position!
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Caesar73 »

LunaDog wrote: 11 months ago
Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago Natasha sends her best!
Could you please thank her for me? For you see, she's inspired me to create a Russian 'villainess' of my own [...]
I will do so :) She is happy that she spurred your imagination! I am looking forward to this story!
Image
Caesar73
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 4739
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Caesar73 »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]Shotrow[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention] [mention]Fandango[/mention] [mention]LunaDog[/mention]


Chapter 4


“Challenges”


Russia, Saint Petersburg, Anna´s apartment, after midnight




Anna had gone to bed early. She was frustrated. Her rational self always had known, that it had been unlikely to find any important information today – but the pictures of the tormented Chris were haunting here. What was her best friend going through right now? Sleep did not come. Now and then she dozed off, but not for long. It must have been after midnight:

A low buzz on her nightstand alarmed her. The silent Alarm which informed her someone was trying to break in …. As silently as she could, she got up set her bare feet on the floor, but not before she had grabbed her tranquilizer gun. It had four shots and a taser. Gone was all tiredness.

Whoever it was, he or she was in for an ugly surprise. Stealthily as a ghost Anna hushed into the living room and hid behind a couch – and waited. Judging by the barely audible noises the intruders made, the violinist was sure that she had to deal with two attackers.

They were professionals: Slowly and carefully they moved forward, checking each room. In situations like these the dark haired woman was thankful for her perfect pitch, which allowed her to hear things “normal” people could not.

Anna waited patiently. The room of the living door opened. Two black shadows sneaked in, covering each other. Now! She switched the light on. The sudden brightness blinded the intruders made her night vision googles useless.

Anna pulled the trigger two times once, switched the target and fired twice a second time. Her attackers crumbled to the floor. One bolt had enough juice to paralyze an elephant, two a dinosaur. They were out stone cold. Quickly she checked her two attackers: Both wore combat gear, helmet – and were undoubtedly female. She frisked them – and set to work. A grim smile crossed her lips.


30 Minutes later:

Olga Denissowa groaned as she slowly came to her senses. Her employer had ordered them to search the Apartment of Anna Romanova – and interrogate her if she was present. She and her partner had entered the apartment and searched every room. Suddenly in the living room, a sudden brightness two sharp pricks in her breast, then darkness.

She was hogtied, tightly. Wrists and elbows, her finger tips touched the nyloned soles of her feet. Nyloned soles? Her socks! Her socks filled her mouth and where held there by a tight cleave gag, which cut deep in the corners of her mouth. The crotch rope was very very tight. A low groan told her that Masha was regaining her faculties too.

They lay on the carpet of the living room. Olga craned her neck and saw before her a pair of beautiful bare feet – she failed not to notice the perfect pedicure: perfect ruby red nail polish and two exquisite golden toe rings “I feared you wouldn´t wake up, a melodious alto voice announced.

Olga craned her neck some more: The pair of feet belonged to Anna Romanova, who sat in an arm chair in front of them “You can consider yourself lucky” Romanova told them pleasantly “I could have just put a bullet in your heads and called the police” The Grand Duchesse paused “But I am in a gracious mood today – and I don´t want to ruin the carpet, all the blood you know” Another pause “So listen very carefully” Now Anna´s voice sounded cold as ice “I want to know who sent you and I want you to send him a message from me. Then I let you go! She paused “Maybe!” So: Who do you work for?” Olga and Masha just stared the violinist.

Anna sighed “You know that this is pointless, right? Playing the strong and silent types?” You will talk in the end – and we have the whole night …. for starters: Let us have a little fun!”

The violinist lifted her right foot and squeezed Olga´s nose shut with her big toe and the index toe. Olga´s face turned red soon, before Anna loosened her grip. Masha got the same treatment …. The violinist turned to Olga again - the latter had just recovered, when Anna pinched her nose shut again. The violinist smiled as she pinched Olga´s and Masha´s noses shut simultaneously “An impressive feature of coordination and control, don´t you think?” Her two “guests” struggled. Obviously they did not share her point of view.


Day 3: Anna´s apartment: Early, the next morning:



Anna looked down at the street: Two women entirely clad in black were just crossing the street. They wore no shoes and had to tap through the snow covered ground on their nyloned soles. Olga and Masha – she knew her names by now – limped more as they walked. Anna watched as the two women got in a black nondescript car and drove away.

In the end, they had not needed the whole night, so Anna had gotten five hours of sleep: The unlucky duo had spilled the beans. Her two guests had spent the night on the cold floor of her bathroom, tightly hogtied to each other and very well gagged. Anna had blindfolded them and stuffed ear buds in their ears – and provided them with some entertainment for the night: She tied one additional crotch rope from Olga´s to Masha´s …

Anna chuckled mirthlessly “I have not been entirely heartless: I crotch roped them and put vibrators in their pussies, I taped vibrating eggs to their soles. I even changed the gags to those heavily padded panel gags” A devious smile crossed her lips: the small devil on her left shoulder had whispered in her ear “Why don´t you douse the foam balls with Tabasco?” And even the angel on her right shoulder had not voiced any objections – and so Anna had spent the whole bottle ….

The crotchropes and the vibrators she had left in place when she had released Olga and Masha “The batteries will last a while Ladies” she had told them gleefully.

They would find sitting difficult in the next days, and wearing high heels would be not a good idea. Truth to be told Anna had vented some steam. But Anna knew now what she needed to know. The message she had sent had been clear. Hopefully Olga´s and Masha´s employer would understand it. She had no time for this. And the next goon who attacked her would get not away that easily.

Anna took her phone and called Anastasia. The call went straight to voice mail. She waited a few minutes and tried it a second time … nothing. The violinist cursed loudly in Russian – roughly translated? “Hell and damnation!” The curse lost much of its colour in translation though. A grim smile crossed the dark haired woman´s lips “Lost in translation”

Anna weighed her options for a moment then she had made up her mind: She changed quickly, grabbed her gear and left her Apartment. Better to look after Anastasia for herself … “Maybe I am just paranoid, but after the last 48 hours, better paranoid than dead!” Anna thought, as she hurried down the steps, into the parking garage. She took the time though to search her BMW carefully for any trackers, but found none. Five minutes later she was on her way ….


Day 3: Russia, unknown Location, Chris quarters, around 0730 AM

Chris had to force herself to do her usual morning regimen. In some ways the long hours of total sensory deprivation had worn her more down, than the brutal bondage in the morning “They want to test my limits – and keep me in good health” she mused darkly “by mixing physical and psychological torment” After completing her exercise she had showered and dressed and had breakfast – the excellent Sencha Tea she had enjoyed.

Now she waited: Her handlers would come for her soon, for the next round. The blonde had not long to wait. A click and the door opened, and the usual procession entered: Two guards took position left and right to the door, the third rolled the wheelchair in, the fourth carried her restraints.

Chris avoided eye contact and presented her arms to her handlers “Hopefully they don´t stun me again” They did not. After she had been restrained – she was wheeled down to the dungeons.


The dungeons:

Chris found herself in the vast dungeon again, after her blindfold had been removed. Before her stood Natasha smiling down at her “I hope you slept well?” The blonde just stared back “Obviously you are a bit grumpy” her handler teased her, she turned to Chris´ guards wheel her to the rack, then release her from the chair and remove her restraints – and the gag!”

“The Rack?” Chris wondered. Minutes later she stood naked before the strange apparatus – it did not look like a normal rack … Natasha could barely hide her amusement “Your face is priceless!” she baited Chris, but the blonde kept her silence “May I present the Anaconda Rack!” the dark haired Russian announced grandiosely. She definitely enjoyed that moment, taunted Chris – but the blonde composed herself and kept her mouth shut. She felt Natasha´s dark eyes eying her up and down – clearly enjoying what she saw.

Chris eyed the contraption wearily. She had not much time for deliberations. On a wink of Natasha, her guards manhandled Chris on the rack and began to restrain her.

It was a rack. Like all such devices it was designed to stretch its victim, but this one was a little... unusual.

Its bed was a single, very long plank—thick, wide, and lightly padded with brown leather. It was supported at waist height by posts and diagonal braces of heavy iron pipe, solidly bolted to the stony floor. Compact, stainless steel electric winches and drums wound with nylon rope were bolted to the head and foot of the plank and at several points on either side of its length.

Soon Chris found herself stretched, full length, on the rack: her ankles in padded suspension cuffs linked to the lower winch, and her wrists in similar cuffs to the upper winch. Her fingers and hands were encased in padded bondage mitts. Her big toes were tied together and connected to rings in the ankle cuffs. The taut cords pulled her feet up and held them in the flexed position, the opposite of en pointe.

Finally—and this was what made the rack unusual—nylon rope was wound around Chris´ body and onto the drums of the side winches. The pattern was complex. Some of the ropes were linked together to form a Karada or diamond-hitch net that embraced her body from shoulders to shins. Others were looped around and around her arms, torso, and legs, each starting at a pad eye on one side of the rack and ending at a winch on the opposite.

Chris looked up at her jailor: Her mouth had been fully stuffed with three pairs of panties - a complete Ace bandage compressed her lower face.

The blonde starred angrily up at her smugly grinning handler, and mumbled something not very polite into the gag … which amused Natasha even more “Let me explain how this machine works!”

"The 'Anaconda Rack' stretches and crushes at the same time," she explained loftily "The winches at the top and bottom do the stretching, and the side winches tighten the ropes." She reached out and traced a length of nylon passing between Chris breasts, one of several ropes framing and squeezing the firm globes. "There are tension meters built into all the winches," she continued, "and everything is under computer control."

She leaned even closer. "The process takes a very long time—millimetre by millimetre—hour after hour—each of the winches clicking in turn, one ratchet tooth at a time." She kissed the blonde on her gagged mouth. "The rope is waxed, so it will slide over your skin as it tightens. I've never been on this ride... but I heard it is the hell of a ride! Bye bye!”

Chris heard as her guards left the chamber. She was alone. She was already stretched pretty much – and the process had not even begun. Even now she found breathing difficult. A click, and the apparatus started its cycle …. The blonde groaned.



Russia, Saint Petersburg, modern Apartment Complex in Kirovsky district.



Anna parked her car, not far from the modern apartment complex, which had been built in the 2010´s. That a young historian, a junior professor only, could afford housing here, told the violinist one thing: Anastasia´s family had money, Anna kicked herself mentally that she had not asked Sybil to do a thorough background check. Not that she distrusted her uncle´s judgment or the historian – but she hated surprises, now more than ever.

She entered the complex and took the stairwell: Anastasia lived on the 8th floor “But hey!” Anna thought “Walking stairs is good exercise, especially in the morning!” The violinist was no morning person at all.

As she left the stairwell on the 8th floor she closed the heavy metal door, carefully. The violinist walked down the corridor to Apartment 8-23. Anna just wanted to press the bell button as she noticed that the door stood slightly ajar.

She drew her gun, listened and gave the door a gentle push – almost noiselessly it swung open. Anna stepped over the threshold. The long floor was dark and silence. Her heels clicked on the expensive wooden floor. Carefully she searched every room. Obviously the apartment had been ransacked; Cupboards had been emptied, Cushions had been slashed.

So far not a sign of Anastasia … only one room was left: the sleeping room … Anna listened, and stopped. Soft noises, muffled noises … decisively the Russian kicked the door open, ready to shoot. But no assailant waited for her. On the bed laid a hogtied woman. It had to be Anastasia. Anna could not be sure, because the head of the woman was hooded.

Except her underwear, black bra and panties, the woman was naked. Whoever had tied her up had done a truly professional job: Wrists and elbows were crushed together. Her heels rested on her butt, she could have grabbed her ankles with her tied wrist´s – if her hands had not been enshrouded in tape.

At closer inspection Anna found out that Anastasia had also been crotch roped – and tightly: The rope vanished between her butt cheeks. The black spandex hood had been connected to her tied, elbows, crotch rope and toes.

The Russian produced her tanto and cut the hog tie ropes first: Anastasia´s legs flopped down on the mattress like dead wood. As Anna found out the black hood was pulled tight around the historian´s neck, not tight enough to strangle her, but tight enough to make it impossible to dislodge on her own accord, the violinist loosened the strap and pulled the hood of Anastasia´s head.

Her shoulder length brown hair was damp and matted and plastered against her head. From read rimmed eyes she stared up at Anna. The historian´s lower face was enshrouded in what looked to Anna like a complete role of duct tape, obviously hiding a substantial gag packing. As the violinist had suspected the younger woman´s ears had been stuffed with voice cancelling ear buds. She removed first the left, then the right one.

“Listen” Anna spoke gently “I will cut your other bonds first – and remove the gag at last” Anastasia protested in her gag. “Shhhh ...” the Russian calmed her “When the blood rushes back in your arms and legs and your muscle s uncramp, you will scream, believe me – and that would alarm the neighbours, you understand that?” The historian looked at her, but nodded finally.

“Right then, let us get you out of this” Anna took her tanto and cut the ropes which lashed Anastasia´s arms together … she did scream, she did scream even more, when Anna removed the crotch rope, tears streamed down her cheeks.

Finally the deed was done and the violinist pulled the last piece of soggy underwear out of the brown haired woman´s mouth. Anna gave her a bottle of water “drink slowly” she advised her.

“Thank you” Anastasia crooked “And you seem to know a lot about being tied up …” she added. Anna´s face was unreadable “You could say that” she just said “Freshen up and dress and pack a few things – you can tell me what happened here on the way”

The historian wanted obviously argue that point, Anna cut across her “This place is no longer save, for the time being you will stay with me, where I can protect you – and no this is not open to debate. If you think that was bad? It was not, believe me!” Anna´s dark eyes were blazing she had risen her voice, more than she had wanted to.

“Listen” she added more calmly “the same guys who attacked you, came for me, or their boss dispatched second a second team – I taught them a lesson though, they will not forget so soon. A grim smile crossed Anna´s lips “And now do as I say Anastasia, the clock is ticking”

For a moment Anastasia fixated the Russian, seemed to search for something in her face. That this was all a bad dream, that someone would shout “April fool!” – but the call never came. “Right” she muttered and nodded, got up and tapped gingerly into her bathroom”


30 Minutes later in Anna´s car:


“And then they left me” Anastasia concluded her story. They were on the way to the Archives. Anna was impressed. The historian had shown a remarkable resilience. This – and the violinist suspected, that Anastasia would only realize later what had happened fully. But for now Anna was sure, that concentrating on their work would be best to deal with the experience, to keep her mind occupied – and she desperately needed Anastasia focused and concentrated.

The signal of an incoming call interrupted her musings, it was Sybil, she took the call “What is it Sybil?” Anna sounded more curtly than she had wanted “A good morning to you too!” the hacker smiled unabashed, she knew the violinist “I have news!” Sybil sounded almost enthusiastic “Shoot!” Anna listened, and out of nowhere a warm smile curled her lips “Inform Ragna!” the Russian told Sybil – and listened again “Perfect! Sybil you are the best! We talk this evening – and thank you!” Anna ended the call.

Anastasia had followed the conversation with keen interest she had sensed the violinist´s mood change during the call “Who is Sybil? Who is Ragna? And what was this call about?” she fired a salvo of questions. Anna had to smile “Sybil is our Secretary, Ragna is mine and Chris´ Housekeeper – and I will answer all your questions later, when we are in a secure environment and no unwanted listeners might overhear us”

Anastasia was clearly not satisfied with the explanation, but obviously sensed that she would get not any other explanation at that point.


Day 3: Russia, unknown Location, the dungeons early afternoon:



“We have to talk” Natasha told Chris. Chris just stared back, her green eyes betraying no emotion, almost. The Russian sensed something in those green pools of light. Hate? Anger? She would have understood both.

Chris could just only stare back because she was tied up and gagged again – after the embrace of the Anaconda rack, this predicament was almost comfortable. She had been tied with leather straps first, arms pressed at her sides. The first strap was tied above her breasts, the last around her big toes.

Then she had been welded against a stone pillar with another set of straps, almost in the same places. Only that another strap across her forehead fixated her head against the pillar too. Of course she was crotch roped – and of course she was heavily gagged.

In fact a slight variation of her previous gag, but now three layers of scarfs compressed her lower face even more.

“We need to talk” Natasha continued “Comedian” Chris fumed “You talk and I have to listen”
“The Boss hosts a party tonight for his friends, wealthy men, powerful men” her host explained –and Chris was sure to detect some disgust in her alto voice.

The Russian paused “And he wants you to attend” Now Chris eyes narrowed, her heavily muffled retort conveyed her standpoint clear enough. Patiently Natasha waited till the blonde had calmed down, breasts still heaving.

“You have no choice” Natasha explained calmly “You will attend, one way or the other. And the boss has it made very clear to me that he expects you to behave at your level best. Any disobedience by you would mean a loss of face for him in front of his friends. He cannot have that. The consequences would be most severe, the consequences for you” She paused to give Chris time to process that information.

“If you play ball today though, there will be compensations” Chris snorted but kept her temperament in check “I will not lie to you” Now Chris was sure to detect an ounce of empathy in her enemies voice “These are rich powerful men, you can imagine how they are when they are drunk” Chris could imagine but did not want to “They will do, what men do: They will touch you, feel you up, molest you. So your endurance, your self-control will be tested to the limit” Chris eyes radiated pure hate, being subjected to a plaything for rich perverts was horrendous a thought.

Natasha seemed to have read her mind though “Don´t worry, for the kind of games you are thinking off right now? The Boss has hired ladies. You are his price possession after all. He wants to boast with you, but he wants you undamaged, humiliated maybe, but undamaged – you are valuable to him after all – for now” She added “If you comply”

The two women looked each other in the eye – neither the dark haired not the blonde blinked “Think about what I said” Natasha said finally and use the next two hours to think things through. The Russian turned and left the cell, without turning back.

Chris stared at the stone wall across her, tried to control her conflicting emotions – she screamed her frustration into her gag, and strained against her bonds. She racked her brain – again and again. And reached the same conclusion every time: Natasha had been right: If she wanted to survive this, she had no choice.

Two hours later Natasha returned. She released the strap fixating Chris´ had against the pillar “Did you make your choice?” the Russian asked calmly. Chris nodded. And the ghost of a smile crossed Natasha´s lips “For a blonde you are really clever”
Image
User avatar
Nainur
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 643
Joined: 4 years ago
Location: Germany

Post by Nainur »

Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago Both wore combat gear, helmet – and were undoubtedly female. She frisked them – and set to work. A grim smile crossed her lips.
a peerfectly foreboding line of another nice chapter full of F/F bondage-predicament - so very well done!
Post Reply Previous topicNext topic