Chapter 12
“Breaking Point”
Swiss: Somewhere along the Lake Geneva:
“Breaking Point”
Swiss: Somewhere along the Lake Geneva:
Ekaterina stole a glance at Ragna. Her gaze lingered one moment on the Décolleté of the Islandress and she felt a strong urge to touch it. True to her word the blonde had picked her up at precisely 0300 PM at her apartment.
Now they drove along the Lake Geneva. Their destination was Nyon: “I have booked us a suite at the Hotel Le Rive” Ragna had explained “And tomorrow I have a surprise for you” smiling enigmatically.
Seldom had the Russian felt drawn to another woman like this, she laid her hand on Ragna´s muscular thigh “Don´t touch me, while I am driving” the herculean blonde chuckled “I might lose control!”
Russia: Unknown location, around 0100 PM, the Dungeons:
Chris groaned. She had lost any track of time by now. The stings of the dropping wax she did not feel anymore. The pain in her lower back was excruciating though. The leather straps bit deep into her skin too – and her lower face was compressed by the muzzle gag in a vice, its pressure was immense.
She hovered between phases of clarity and oblivion. Time passed. Sometimes Chris dozed off. Suddenly she felt another sensation: Someone was fumbling at her wrist bonds. Feeling in her hands and fingers Chris had lost long ago.
The pressure loosened significantly, as the straps around her thumbs and her wrists were cut. As the blood rushed back she screamed into her gag “God, this hurts so much!” One strap after another was severed. Her breathing got easier as the straps above and below her breasts were severed. Finally the one that held her big toes came free. Chris was free of bonds now, but she felt unable to move, after the endless hours on the arc of hell. The left ear bud was removed, then she second.
“Chris” she heard Natasha´s voice “I will help you to sit up. Next I will remove your blindfold. The gag stays in place for now – you might scream when I move you” Chris did scream, as Natasha sat her gently up: The pains in her in her tormented back were excruciating. The Russian let her just sit for a spell, to give the blonde time to compose herself.
She was breathing heavily. “I will lift you now” Natasha told the pianist, giving her some time to steady herself. Chris felt that she was lifted up from the rack – once more she was surprised by Natasha´s strength and sat down in the wheelchair – surprisingly gentle again by the Russian.
She screamed again. What would have been a piercing scream was reduced to a low mumble by her heavy gag. She grabbed the armrests of the wheelchair tightly. Slowly the pain subsided.
To her surprise she was not restrained further “Why should they” she mused “I cannot walk one step on my own accord” She felt that her body was covered with some sort of blanket then she was wheeled along.
In her dazed state, she barely registered she was rolled along a floor – the cool air felt refreshing on her hot and sweaty skin. Chris only regained her senses fully when someone fumbled at her sleep mask. The blonde blinked. The many hours of darkness and silence had disoriented her. Only slowly she processed, where she was: In her quarters. Natasha loosened the strap which held the muzzle gag in place.
Chris sighed as the pressure around her lower face receded. As the Russian removed the large gag packing, a filled nylon stocking, filled with two used panties, the blonde felt the urge to scream. As Natasha pressed a water bottle against her paper dry lips, she drank greedily in small sips.
She looked up at her handler “What now?” she whispered hoarsely – but her eyes were clear “Another session in the afternoon?” To her shame Natasha´s cheeks reddened slightly “No” she said simply “I convinced the boss to let you rest” but avoided eye contact. Chris chuckled mirthlessly “So I should thank you then” The sarcasm was not lost on the Russian
The Russian shrugged “You could spend the afternoon at my quarters” The blonde shook her head “Thanks for the offer Natasha, but no, I decline” a weary smile crossed her lips “Please leave me alone, just let me rest. You could do me a favour though: Be so kind and send Yelena and Ivanka over for a massage. I would greatly appreciate that” There had been no jest or scorn in her voice. Just mere exhaustion, the blonde had to muster all strength though not to snap at the Russian – Natasha sensed that.
“I will do that” the Russian agreed calmly “You need anything else?” She looked intently at the blonde. Chris shook her head “No, thank you, I am fine – you could help me to the bathroom though” And Natasha had an idea how hard it must be for the blonde to admit that she needed help. For the proud warrior princess she was, that must have been hard.
To stand up, to limp the few steps to the bathroom, aided by Natasha, costed Chris the last ounces of energy she could muster “Leave me alone please Natasha!” she bade her Janitor softly but firm, mustering all the little strength she had left to keep herself together. Natasha was moved by that display of discipline, of sheer raw will power.
As Chris heard the door closing, the blonde dragged herself under the shower, set the temperature on high, turned the water on – and sank totally exhausted to the floor. The hot water drummed down on her back. Chris did not heed it.
She just sat there in the shower on the tiles. Her arms slung around her knees, her head bowed down. Her forehead touched her knees. She felt numb and totally exhausted “Sensei” she whispered “Help me” She shivered uncontrollably despite the heat.
The hot steam filled the cabin, filled the room. Chris had no idea how long she sat there, how long the hot water was drumming on her back. Only a gentle knock at the bath room door raised her from her stupor “Are you alright?” she heard a concerned voice: Yelena. So Natasha had been true to her word.
Chris pulled herself upright with a groan, switched the shower off, took the large fluffy towel and dried her body – this simple task was incredibly hard, especially bowing down and rubbing her legs dry. “I am coming Yelena!” she called and looked in the mirror: her body was covered in angry red stripes from her toes to her shoulders above her breasts, the way had left marks on her skin too. Chris put a turban on her head, covered herself in the towel and stepped out of the bathroom, no, she did not step out, she limbed. She looked up – from weary eyes:
Yelena and Ivanka waited for her. The red haired maid looked at her, her eyes full of compassion, “Let me help you Chris, We will give you a good massage, you rest then and later you get dinner” The pianist just nodded and allowed Ivanka to lead her to the bed and to help her to lay down on her front. Yelena kicked off her heels and knelt at Chris feet. Gently she touched the red marks of the leather straps at her insteps and her ankles. Ivanka kicked off her heels too and knelt beside Chris´ back.
Chris sighed as she felt the soft fingers of Yelena massaging the balls of her left foot – and she groaned softly as Ivanka kneaded gently the sore muscles of her upper back. Slowly she relaxed and let the two maids work her magic.
She must have fallen asleep because Yelena touched her gently at her left shoulder “We will let you sleep now – and return with dinner in a few hours “Yes, you do that” Chris sighed drowsily “Just wake me up then” Chris was already asleep when the two maids left her. Yelena covered the sleeping blonde with the blankets, after they had put her green PJ´s gently on – along with two pairs of woollen socks on her feet. Chris had not stirred once.
Natasha had followed the administrations of the maids from the control room. And she had felt pity – as she saw the angry red marks on Chris body. She admired the self-control, her indomitable will. But today the blonde had reached the breaking point – almost. What the blonde had said to her in the dungeons though still lingered with the Russian.
It was painful to accept the pianist had been right. Natasha had used her allegiance to her boss as a shield. And Oblomov had been right too: Natasha felt something for the blonde. But in in the end she was honour bound by oath and custom to be loyal to her boss. Oblomov knew that she would never break that oath. And Chris knew that too.
Russia: Saint Petersburg, Anna´s Apartment: late afternoon
Anna had retreated to her room “I have to make some calls and preparations” she had said curtly after lunch, her dark mood engulfed her like a storm cloud. Anastasia felt, the violinist´s mood had changed dramatically from one moment to the next, after they had watched the live feed from the dungeons.
Anna radiated fury in waves: A white hot, blazing fury, hot like dragonfire. Anastasia had decided to analyse the map and the floor plan further. “You do that” Anna had agreed “We have to be prepared for anything tomorrow” – turned sharply on her heels and closed resolutely the door behind her
The young historian immersed herself into the map and the floor plan. When she looked up again, Anastasia felt as if the plans and sketches were etched into her brains. In disbelief she starred at her clock: hours had passed.
Only then she realized what had raised her attention: the soft, melancholic tones of a violin. It took her a moment to realize, that this was no recording. Someone was playing the violin here, in Anna´s apartment.
Anastasia´s curiosity had been peaked, so she followed the sounds. On her stockinged feet she tapped into the large living room: Anna was standing in the middle of the dimly lit room, with her back to the fireplace, a dark shadow before the bright flames her eyes closed, her body moving in the rhythm with the music:
The historian knew that melody. It was the theme of Schindler´s List. The melody conveyed sadness. Anna´s tone was warm, but bitter sweet. Anastasia felt the tones of the violin reflected the violinist´s state of mind.
As Anna had finished she opened her eyes and saw Anastasia standing on the threshold “I had to do something to get those horrible pictures out of my system. Playing the violin usually does the trick, but this time it is different I fear – Oblomov will rue the day he laid hands on Chris – and anybody who had part in this!”
“What will we do?” Anastasia inquired “We will prepare a nice surprise for him – and no, I will not tell you now. It is better that way. And that is final” Anna´s tone and demeanour dissuaded the historian from posing another question. She knew the violinist well enough by now, to know, that Anna would not answer. When she had called Vasyli she had left dining room and retreated to her room.
Since that call from Sybil Anastasia sensed Anna´s grim determination. Obviously Anna had felt that she had been too hard on the historian “Why don´t you get yourself something to drink and join me, I will play some more” The violinist took the bow of her violin and continued to play.
As silently as she could Anastasia helped herself to a goblet of red wine, sat on the couch across Anna, her legs folded under her and listened. There were only the sounds of wood cackling in the fire place and Anna´s violin now … and the soft tones of the Lord-Dunn-Raven ensnared her – the historian felt like being in a dream.
The immensely difficult Sonata for Violin solo in d-minor by Eugene Ysaye fitted Anna´s mood perfectly ….it demanded utmost concentration and focus:
Swiss: Nyon, Hotel La Rive: Late Afternoon:
Ekaterina clapped into her hands as she stepped on the Balcony of their Double Chamber Deluxe. It was a cold, clear sunny day and they had an unobstructed view across the Lake Geneva. In the distance, Ragna had explained, Ekaterina could see the Montblanc. The Icelandress had to smile as the saw the child like enthusiasm of her younger companion.
“What do you think about this Kata?” “I go for a long nice jog, you treat yourself at the Spa – and in the evening we have a candle light dinner? The Restaurant is famous for its cuisine. A lot of the fish comes direct from local fishermen”
“Sounds good” the blonde smiled “But don´t let you wait me too long!” Ekaterina admonished her lover “Of course not!” Ragna whispered hoarsely pulled the Russian into a bear like hug and kissed her fully on the mouth - hard. Ekaterina returned it with gusto.
Thirty minutes later Ragna jogged along the Rue de Lausanne. Her Mobile signalled an incoming call. It was Anna. For a few minutes the Icelandress listened only, jogging on the spot, without interrupting the Russian “I see” she finally said “Things are going pretty much according to plan, tomorrow we will proceed as planned.
Ragna continued jogging her pace accelerating.
“Tell Sybil she should send me the material” the Icelandress said “it will come in handy, I am sure. Anna listen! We will get Chris out of that hellhole in one piece” In an afterthought she added “Why don´t you let Sybil compile a list of those Dickheads who participated in that little party – it might prove useful”
The Icelandress listened minutes longer – and ended the call. Ekaterina wouldn´t have recognized the stern expression of her face. It was the face of a Valkyrie: A Valkyrie ready for war, ready for death and ruin, ready for the worlds ending.
Russia: Unknown location, Chris´ Quarters: early evening:
Chris awoke from a long and dreamless slumber. She felt a bit rested, mentally – the pains in her body had receded to a dull throbbing. It took some forceful persuasion though to convince her body to move, her back especially voiced strong objections. She was moving in slow motion – a thought crossed her mind “Now I know how I feel in fifty years” and groaned.
After a trip to the loo - to get there had been quite the challenge, – as she sat down, her back complained loudly - she drank greedily from the water bottle on the table – the painkillers she ignored.
Only now she registered how hungry she really was, hopefully Yelena and Ivanka would soon show up with dinner. Very carefully she sat on the bed – and winced – and waited for the pains to recede. She was too tired to block them out, as she normally would have done.
“I have to keep my mind occupied” she mused “If want to get sane through this, I have to stay focused” With some effort she managed to manoeuver her aching limbs into the lotus seat. She closed her eyes concentrated and began to play the piano: Bach´s Goldberg-Variations. Chris found that playing Bach helped clearing her mind.
She considered her latest vinyl recording as one of her finest performances. It had been a live recording at the Elbphilharmonie, last summer. Chris had not done any additional takes at the studio – but insisted that the Deutsche Grammophon published exactly the Variations the way the blonde had played the Goldberg Variations this evening on stage.
And soon she had delved into Bach´s complex universe, there was nothing else. Fascinated Natasha watched as Chris sat in the Lotus Seat on her bed, eyes closed – and a look of deep concentration on her face.
Her beautiful features were calm now and relaxed. She moved her body in the rhythm of something only she could hear. The resilience of the pianist was impressive “If I could only hear what she is playing” Natasha sighed: hopefully the Grand Duchesse found that cursed treasure. The sooner the pianist left the better. The Russian did not know how long she could resist the temptation.
She did hope that her Boss would keep his promise to let Chris go, when Anna had kept her part of the bargain. But she was not sure: Natasha knew that Oblomov felt attracted to beautiful and strong women like Christine. He wanted to possess them. As security chief she was well aware of the series of unsolved murders in Saint Petersburg district.
The victims all had something in common: They were powerful, beautiful influential women. Natasha had connected the dots after the latest murder. The last days, she had thought about a contingency plan, to get Chris away from here, if her Boss would not keep his side of his trade.
Chris played the last note of the Gold Variations. She opened her eyes and returned to the present. She felt mentally relaxed, focused. The same moment the door opened and Jelena and Ivanka rolled a Trolley in. It smelled delicious. Obviously Jelena had made a foray into the Indian Cuisine.
“Did you sleep well Chris?” The young woman inquired politely “Thank you” the pianist smiled back “I feel relaxed”
With some difficulty she got up from the bed and took in the delicious scents of Indian Cuisine. Her face brightened up “This smells heavenly! Chicken Vindaloo?” the blonde exclaimed “You like that?” Yelena smiled back “I love it!” Chris grinned “The hotter, the better!” “Then enjoy!” Yelena bowed.
The Russian smiled and left with Ivanka. As the two maids had left the pianist inspected the goodies: Several Indian starters and indeed Chicken Vindaloo as main course – and a bottle of a German Chardonnay. A fine one as a look on the bottle told her.
Carefully Chris sat down and began to eat – this simple task did distract her. To concentrate on the many nuances of the dishes helped her. She made it a mental exercise to find out which spices Yelena had used and enjoyed the meal. And it was really hot.
Any distraction was welcome.
Swiss: Nyon, Hotel La Rive: Restaurant
Ekaterina could not take her eyes of Ragna, as the Icelandress cut her “Filets de perches du Lac Leman” methodically in pieces. Her eyes rested on the large diamond which rested on the blonde´s breastbone – and on the tops of her breasts: The blonde wore a shimmering silvery evening gown,-
Lots of heads had turned as the two tall blonde women had entered the restaurant: Ekaterina had chosen a deep red gown. Her Aquazura Platform Sandals matched the colour of the dress, as well as the nail polish. The long slit on the right graced the observer with a look at her long muscular leg from ankle to midthigh.
Ragna´s silvery gown enhanced her athletic figure. The blonde was very tall in her stockinged feet – in her Gianvito Rossi Platform Sandals she was a giantess. Not for the first time the Russian felt herself reminded of the descriptions of Valkyries in the Sagas she had read as a child, when she looked at the Icelandress.
Her size, her athletic physique drew the attention of the male audience on her. But today Ekaterina noticed the commanding presence of her lover for the very first time. Ekaterina could imagine the Icelandress in full armour, wielding her sword and charging in the battle at Odin´s side.
Ragna felt Ekaterina´s grey eyes resting on her. She looked up – and two pairs of eyes met: One piercing blue, one grey. The air was cackling with electricity. Both women felt that. Ragna´s warm dry right hand found her way on Ekaterina´s left.
Another sensation sent showers of elation through her body – more exactly its lush southern fields: Ragna´s left nyloned foot touched her toes, the foot wandered slowly upward and rested finally between Ekaterina´s thighs. The tips of Ragna´s toes touched her crotch, teasing her.
Not that the Islandress had stopped eating her Fish. Now she took a sip of her wine looked up again – smiled coyly at the younger woman and continued to tease the Russian “You like that, do you” she purred
Ekaterina grinned “What, the fish?”
“I think we skip dessert” the Icelandress announced resolutely, after they had finished the main course and signalled the waiter imperiously for the bill. She left a generous tip “Come” she said simply. Giggling like two besotted teenagers they left the restaurant.
It happened on the corridor to the elevators: two young men in their early twenties blocked their way. Ragna knew the type: Rich, spoiled members of the local Jeunesse Dorée. They weren´t obviously entirely sober, the bolder of the duo, a tall blonde fellow, wearing an expensive grey suit leered openly at Ragna´s décolleté “Why don´t you try it with a real man blondie” The Icelandress gave him the once over and chuckled “A real man? I don´t play with children – and now be so kind and get out of our way” She smiled condescendingly.
“Jean” his brown haired companion smiled disdainfully “She just called you a child” “Please let us pass” Ekaterina pleaded “We will” the brown haired man smiled arrogantly “If you dykes are nice to us” Ragna sighed “Children get out of our way, why don´t you go back to the kinder garden you came from” Jean grinned ominously “And if not?” challenging the Icelandress.
The blonde sighed exasperatedly and turned to Ekaterina “Children” In the aftermath the Russian could not tell what had happened, so fast the blonde had moved: Jean and his companion were writhing and moaning on the floor:
Ragna had gripped the blonde by the throat with her left hand, banged him against the wall with tremendous force, slowly he glided to the floor, dazed. His companion she hit with her right fist on the nose - hard: It broke with a sickening crunch. The Icelandress kneed him between the legs. Like a jack knife he crumbled to the floor too.
“Come” Ragna bade Ekaterina and stepped over the moaning two young men, stepping purposefully on Jean´s right hand with her left heel.
After hesitating a second, the Russian followed her companion.
As soon as the door of their room closed behind them Ekaterina slipped of her sandals. Ragna chuckled “The eternal curse of stylish footwear!” and slipped off her sandals too – and pulled the Russian with her “I can´t wait to ravish you” Ragna whispered huskily. She withstood the impulse to rip open Ekaterina´s dress. Instead she gently unzipped Ekaterina. The red garment swirled to the floor. The Russian smiled and whispered “Your turn!”
A short while later Ekaterina looked up at Ragna towering over her. The Russian tugged at her silken bonds and grated her hips. The Icelandress had spread eagled her with silk scarves on the bed, blindfolded her with another – and had gagged her with two pairs of panties. A beautiful paisley shawl held the substantial packing in her mouth. Ragna straddled her prey and cupped Ekaterina´s full breasts with her hands, massaged them, kneaded them.
Ekaterina groaned as the Icelandress hot moist lips closed around her left nipple. Playfully the blonde sucked at her nipple and bit her. Ekaterina felt the blonde´s tongue caressing the areola. The Russian groaned in her gag and moaned ….
Much later in the night Ragna quietly slipped out of bed – opened the large double door and went on the balcony. The stone felt cold under her bare feet but she did not heed the cold: It was a clear and cold night. The cold light of the full moon shone on the calm Lake Geneva. Ragna looked across the Lake, deep in thought. Arms folded under her chest. Her expression was hard. Hard and stern.
What Anna had told her had strengthened her steely resolve to follow through with the plan. Tomorrow was the day. She went back into the room, closed the doors, slipped under the covers – and cuddled against Ekaterina´s warm body. The Russian shuddered in her sleep as Ragna´s cold feet touched her legs – but continued to snore softly. For a long moment she looked down at Ekaterina, whispered a word in her mother language and kissed her softly on her brow - Minutes later she was asleep.
Russia: Unknown location, Chris´ Quarters:
Chris body was tired. She could not count all the places where her muscles hurt, or the marks of the drops of wax. Chris mind though was racing. The calm she had felt after playing Bach had dissolved into mist.
Almost one week had passed since her abduction. Since one week she had seen no daylight, nor breathed fresh air. Each morning it felt a bit more difficult to rise to the challenge to get up.
She tried not to think too much, about the torture that would await her tomorrow. That Natasha had convinced Oblomov to give her more rest had been a blessing – and as much as she hated the Woman, the Oligarch she hated more.
On the plus side? If – and it was a big if –Oblomov kept his word she would have to endure just one more day of torture. Sleep did not come easily soon though, but finally she drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Of course the ladies are the heroes, after all. Still, it would be odd if Natasha would turn on her boss, knowing the consequences for her own life and having done some bad stuff herself.
There might be complications along the way ... I agree with you, that the basic conception on the story has indeed some parallels with previous adventures, but there are differences as well - you will see 
