The plot thickens and the pace quickens!
Tremendous entertain. Even without the added bonus of the strict bondage. Roll on the next update.
The Files of Art. Inc.: Anna Romanova and the Cross of Romanov Chapter 21 (13.09.2023) (M+F/FF)
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mrjones2009
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Grim but very exciting.
She who laughs last, laughs best.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”
A 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
Am i right here, do i detect a little bit of compassion from Natasha here? NO problem with that if so.
You are not wrong. Natasha is a loyal servant of her master - but that does not mean she is beyond compassion.
[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]
Anastasia could not restrain herself any longer “You promised me answers” the words tumbled out of her mouth. Expectantly she looked at Anna. The Russian seemed in no hurry to swallow the fork full of spaghetti al lemone, savoured the taste and took a sip of the fine Frascati “Yes, I promised you answers. You will get them – after dinner” she added calmly and added “Did anybody tell you it is impolite to talk about business at dinner?” and returned to her pasta. Anastasia was simply taken aback – and speechless.
She considered arguing the point, but Anna´s tone and demeanour had made it clear, that she would get her answers after dinner only. The Russian had not been overtly rude, no, the historian had to concede – after they had still made not any headway with their research for any traces of the treasure though, Anna´s mood had turned sour. After the call of the mysterious Sybil she had been elated, relieved. Now? Not so much.
Earlier:
“We have an appointment” Anna had reminded Anastasia, after they had left the archives “Before we return home” she had added, her mouth a thin line, her jaws set. Anastasia´s curiosity had been peaked, when they had driven northwest to the old harbour. The violinist had stopped in the yard of an abandoned factory.
She seemed tense – but relaxed as she discovered a large black van. Its front lights blinked in a certain rhythm – Anastasia watched as Anna responded in the same way.
Three men got out of the van. The one in the middle was very tall, taller than the violinist. As Anastasia could see, he had short black cropped hair. Anna left the car “you stay” she turned to the historian “No, I won´t” the brown haired woman replied firmly – and sounded mutinous, challenging Anna.
The dark haired Russian looked her directly into the eye “I could handcuff you” – the air was tense. Eventually Anna nodded “Okay come with me, but keep in the background – and don´t talk to anybody about this meeting, right?” Anastasia nodded and they left the car, turned around and said “Or I would have to kill you!”
The man in the middle walked at them – they met roughly in the middle between the two cars. “Anna!” a broad smile crossed his chiselled features “Vasyli” the violinist replied warmly – and they hugged.
[...]
Preview
Chapter 5
“On open display”
or:
“To me belongeth vengeance, and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste.”
Deuteronomy 32:35”
Russia, Saint Petersburg, Anna´s apartment, early evening:
Chapter 5
“On open display”
or:
“To me belongeth vengeance, and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste.”
Deuteronomy 32:35”
Russia, Saint Petersburg, Anna´s apartment, early evening:
Anastasia could not restrain herself any longer “You promised me answers” the words tumbled out of her mouth. Expectantly she looked at Anna. The Russian seemed in no hurry to swallow the fork full of spaghetti al lemone, savoured the taste and took a sip of the fine Frascati “Yes, I promised you answers. You will get them – after dinner” she added calmly and added “Did anybody tell you it is impolite to talk about business at dinner?” and returned to her pasta. Anastasia was simply taken aback – and speechless.
She considered arguing the point, but Anna´s tone and demeanour had made it clear, that she would get her answers after dinner only. The Russian had not been overtly rude, no, the historian had to concede – after they had still made not any headway with their research for any traces of the treasure though, Anna´s mood had turned sour. After the call of the mysterious Sybil she had been elated, relieved. Now? Not so much.
Earlier:
“We have an appointment” Anna had reminded Anastasia, after they had left the archives “Before we return home” she had added, her mouth a thin line, her jaws set. Anastasia´s curiosity had been peaked, when they had driven northwest to the old harbour. The violinist had stopped in the yard of an abandoned factory.
She seemed tense – but relaxed as she discovered a large black van. Its front lights blinked in a certain rhythm – Anastasia watched as Anna responded in the same way.
Three men got out of the van. The one in the middle was very tall, taller than the violinist. As Anastasia could see, he had short black cropped hair. Anna left the car “you stay” she turned to the historian “No, I won´t” the brown haired woman replied firmly – and sounded mutinous, challenging Anna.
The dark haired Russian looked her directly into the eye “I could handcuff you” – the air was tense. Eventually Anna nodded “Okay come with me, but keep in the background – and don´t talk to anybody about this meeting, right?” Anastasia nodded and they left the car, turned around and said “Or I would have to kill you!”
The man in the middle walked at them – they met roughly in the middle between the two cars. “Anna!” a broad smile crossed his chiselled features “Vasyli” the violinist replied warmly – and they hugged.
[...]
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
So exciting, so much promise, so well written.
A 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
[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]
Eventually Anastasia could not restrain herself any longer “You promised me answers” the words tumbled out of her mouth – louder than she had intended. Expectantly she looked at Anna. The Russian on the other hand seemed in no hurry to swallow the fork full of spaghetti al lemone, savoured the taste and took a sip of the fine Frascati “Yes, I promised you answers. You will get them – after dinner” she replied calmly and continued “Did anybody tell you it is impolite to talk about business at dinner?” and returned to her pasta. Anastasia was simply taken aback – and speechless.
She considered arguing the point, but Anna´s tone and demeanour had made it clear, that she would get her answers after dinner only. The Russian had not been overtly rude, no, the historian had to concede – but after they had still made not any headway with their research for any traces of the treasure though, Anna´s mood had turned sour. After the call of the mysterious Sybil she had been elated, relieved. That feeling of elation had melted like snow in the sun.
Earlier:
“We have an appointment” Anna had reminded Anastasia, after they had left the archives “Before we return home” she had added, her mouth a thin line, her jaws set. Anastasia´s curiosity had been peaked, when they had driven northwest to the old harbour. The violinist had stopped in the yard of an abandoned factory.
She seemed tense – but relaxed as she discovered a large black van. Its front lights blinked in a certain rhythm – Anastasia watched as Anna responded in the same way.
Three men got out of the van. The one in the middle was very tall, taller than the violinist. As Anastasia could see, he had short black cropped hair. Anna left the car “you stay” she turned to the historian “No, I won´t” the brown haired woman replied firmly – and sounded mutinous, challenging Anna.
The dark haired Russian looked her directly into the eye “I could handcuff you” – the air was tense. The two women locked eyes. Eventually Anna nodded “Okay come with me, but keep in the background – and don´t talk to anybody about this meeting, right?” Anastasia nodded and they left the car, turned around and said “Or I would have to kill you!”
The man in the middle walked at them – they met roughly in the middle between the two cars. “Anna!” a broad smile crossed his chiselled features “Vasyli” the violinist replied warmly – and they hugged.
Vasyli eyed Anna up and down “You look radiant!” Anna cracked a small smile “And you are still the worst liar I know. I look terrible” “A bit worse for wear” Vasyli conceded “It has been a while, the last time we met” I woke up in my own puke and you were gone!”
The violinist grinned “You should not have drunk so much!” Anna grew serious “You got the stuff I asked you for?” The man called Vasyli nodded “That and a few extras for old friendship´s sake “You are on the war path Anna” - the violinist hesitated “You could say that” she replied guardedly “Show me the merchandise”
“All in due time” Vasyli smiled “But you should introduce me to your silent beautiful companion first!” Anastasia blushed and Anna chuckled “And ruin her life? Hell no!” she turned to Anastasia “Anastasia, this is Vasyli, Vasyli this is Anastasia” and added “You should stay away from him: Vasyli has broken more hearts than I can count!”
“My pleasure Anastasia!” and to the historian´s utter surprise Vasyli greeted her with a perfect hand kiss – his lips barely brushed her hand. Anastasia´s cheeks again reddened slightly. “The merchandise Vasyli?” Anna interrupted – only a tad impatient “Excuse me Anastasia” Anna´s acquaintance smiled at her “but when the Grand Duchesse is calling – you should not let her wait, maybe another time!” He followed Anna who strode already to the van.
“I meant it” Vasyli remarked, when he had caught up with her “You are on the war path, Anna Alexandrovna Romanova, I know you” “Not a war I chose” Anna returned curtly “This fight found me – and before you ask I cannot tell you much more. Does the name Boris Oblomov ring a bell?”
Vasyli grew serious “The man is powerful, fabulously rich – and ruthless” Anna chuckled mirthlessly “That we learned already” and made a decision “He has kidnapped my best friend and threatens to kill her, if I don´t do his bidding”
“Then you should hurry Anna” Vasyli remarked, all jest gone “A friend of mine at the police had a case. Several high class prostitutes and powerful beautiful women tortured and killed – the evidence pointed in Oblomov´s direction – and my friend was firmly told to let the matter rest. The women were all tall blondes” Anna´s face grew even more fierce “If he hurts Chris I will cut his balls off, with a blunt bread knife and make him eat them!”
They had reached the back of the van by now and Vasyli´s men opened its backdoors. In the compartment several heavy looking wooden boxes, customary for military gear, Anna inspected the content – and nodded “Thank you Vasyli!” She turned on her heel to leave. Vasyli held her back gentle but firm “Anna, I know you are as tough as nails, but this guy is dangerous – you would never ask for it, so I offer it to you: Call me, whenever you need help”
Anna´s hard expression grew soft “I know Vasyli – and I will” she hugged him tightly while his men loaded the boxes in her car. They parted – and Anna turned abruptly on her heel and strode to her car, straight, head held high.
Vasyli knew why she had turned so swiftly. She didn´t want him seeing the tears in her eyes. Anastasia and Anna did not talk, when they drove back to Anna´s Apartment. Now and then the historian chanced a glance at the violinist: She had gripped the steering wheel tightly, jaws set, her mouth a thin line, her knuckles white.
Anna´s Appartment - the present:
After dinner Anna and Anastasia relocated to the living room. Anastasia felt like sitting on hot coals, but something held her back to approach the violinist a second time. In the large fire place a bright fire burned and filled the room with its warmth.
Anna had dressed into a thick red woollen turtleneck, black leggings and two pairs of thick red woollen socks on her feet, sitting on the couch with her legs folded under her, holding a crystal goblet filled with red wine in her right she starred into the fire, now and then taking a sip of the rich and heavy red wine.
The dark haired violinist seemed to be far away for a while. She let the red wine swirl around in her goblet looked into the swirling flames then at Anastasia “Sybil ….” she began “Who is Sybil? First and foremost she is a very good friend of Chris and me. Besides that? She is our secretary, as I told you – Chris´ and mine. Chris and I are working as investigators, when we are not on the stage”
Anna paused – concentrating - she took another sip of the wine …
“Chris founded Art Incorporated while we studied in Vienna together – and I joined her. Sybil is also one of the most accomplished hackers in the world. She hacked the Pentagon and the FBI during her studies at the MIT” Now Anastasia listened with rapt attention “Art Incorporated is specialized on recovering stolen and lost art” Anna added.
The historian nodded “That is why your family wants you to find the Romanov-Treasure” she concluded” “Among other things” Anna agreed “They know I can handle myself”
“And who is Ragna?” Anastasia pressed on “Ragna ….” a small smile curled Anna´s lips “Ragna is a very good friend too – and Chris´ and my Housekeeper” The Violinist raised her hand, as Anastasia opened her mouth “She insists on that title – and you don´t mess with a 6´8´´ tall blonde Icelandress” she smiled “Sparring with Ragna is a challenge, she is an excellent cook too” Anna paused for a moment – a warm smile crossed her lips, but was gone as quick - “And before you ask? Sybil called because she uncovered information that could prove vital in saving Chris – no, I will not tell more, I have to think things through, then we will talk about that – I promise”
Her tone made it clear, that this was final.
Anna changed the subject “How are you Anastasia? I don´t think it happens every day that you are assailed and tied up and gagged …”
Slowly at first, haltingly – then even more fluently, Anastasia began to talk … and the more she talked the easier it felt. And Anna was a good listener as she found out.
Day 3: Russia, unknown Location, hours before:
“Frau von der Marwitz you do look radiant!” The voice of Yelena, one of the maids assigned to her, making her presentable, interrupted Chris´ line of thought. She eyed herself critically in the large mirror “I do look perfect from the tips of my toes to the hips of my hose – and the crown of my head” a sarcastic little smile crossed her lips. Yelena and Ivanka had done a perfect job:
The makeup high lightened her classical features – and covered the still ugly bruise under her left eye. The two young women had massaged away most of the pains in her arms and legs – and her back. Chris had in fact enjoyed the massage of her feet, the pedicure – having her Brazilian landing strip trimmed by another woman had been a peculiar, but not unpleasant sensation.
Outdone themselves the two maids had with Chris´ blond mane. It resembled now a crown woven of braids. One large diamond rested on her breast bone. On her feet she wore a pair of stylish black Aquazura Mules with a medium block heel. Black hose, black bra and black panties completed her “attire”.
“I do look like a vamp or like an over prized whore” Chris mused darkly. After being released from the Pillar she had spent the time resting and meditating. Preparing for what would be coming her way. The blonde was resolved not to give her captor the pleasure to lose control. This was about the only thing she could do – for now. Her time would come. Chris focused on that moment.
Absentmindedly she donned the silken black dressing gown Yelena gently laid over her bare shoulders “Thank you Yelena” Chris smiled at the younger woman, who blushed slightly. They were interrupted by her “honour guard” Natasha gave Chris the once over “You did a perfect job Yelena and Ivanka, the Boss will be pleased” the two maids curtsied.
She turned to the pianist “The Boss seems to be in a good mood today, if you behave, we can forego the gag and the wheelchair – and you can walk on your own accord. Blindfold, handcuffs and earbuds are mandatory though” Chris nodded “I will comply” – even those small favours would be a blessing!
Five minutes later they walked along a long corridor, after Chris and her “honour guard” had left the elevator. The air felt cool on Chris hot skin – not cool enough to cause goose bumps. Her guards guided her – surprisingly gentle: A short stop, a turn to the left. She crossed a threshold. They were in a smaller room now. She felt that someone fumbled at the blindfold, while another pair of hands removed her ear buds.
Chris looked around: They were indeed in a rectangular room, in its centre stood a polished round stone table, in its centre a metal post. “Not the fitting location for a festive dinner” the blond thought “We are on the level below the dining hall” – as if Natasha had her thoughts read again – “this table can be elevated to the dining hall ….”
Only slowly Chris realized the meaning behind the words “I will be sitting on that table” her pulse accelerated, she tensed – she felt a firm grip at her shoulder – “Remember what we talked about” Natasha had spoken perfectly calm, but this was enough: Chris composed herself – even if her instincts told her to fight – it costed her an enormous effort to withstand that instinct.
“Let us get you ready!” Natasha spoke – almost gently “It is time”
30 Minutes later Chris was in a murderous mood. With all the strength she could muster she tried to control her raging fury: She sat on the cold stone table: Chris´ back was pressed firmly against the pole her arms were welded together behind the metal post at wrists, elbows: under – and above the joint. A tight figure eight breast harness compressed and enhanced her breasts from above and below. She wore her bra – still.
At one point while Natasha had restrained her Chris almost had lost control: when the Russian had inserted a vibrator in her pussy and crotch roped her. Thankfully the blonde had already been gagged with a very large harness ball gag, which hid the substantial packing of two panties – her own.
Surprisingly gentle the Russian had calmed her “You are strong, you will get through this” Chris eyes had blazed with supressed fury, but she had relented and allowed her Handler to restrain her further.
Now Chris sat on the table. Her legs had been frog tied first, the nyloned soles of her feet her big toes had been tied together afterwards. Natasha had taken pleasure in caressing her soft soles before she tied them together – this position made Chris as vulnerable as she could possibly be. She was still fighting her emotions, the blonde had to fight hard to supress the hot hanger.
But she would get through this. Her handler had encouraged her in a peculiar way - Natasha had gripped her head with both hands and kissed her fully on her ball gagged lips “Stay strong!” Chris had been surprised how fiercely her handler had kissed her. There was more to the Russian than met the eye.
Now she was alone in the chamber. Natasha and her guards had left some time ago. Chris tested her ropes – not that she expected to find any weak spot: It kept her mind occupied. And she could not help it, the crotch rope and the vibrator did their work – and her body reacted. The blonde hated herself for that.
A while later her perfect pitch detected dimmed sounds above her: Voices, steps, laughter. Suddenly the floor plates above her moved, the sounds were clearer now, a spotlight covered her in light.
The table began to move upwards – Chris steeled herself, her face an inscrutable mask, like that of an ancient Greek marble goddess: Unearthly beautiful, smooth and pale and bare of any emotion.
Minutes earlier: Dinner Hall:
Boris Oblomov was in high spirits. Natasha had informed him, that the blonde pianist had yielded. His friends would be delighted. And this evening´s main exhibit would serve his ambitions and his prestige. He observed his guests: The vodka was already flowing freely. The dinner table had been formed in a u-shape. In the empty space between the stone table would appear soon.
The Oligarchs booming voice rang through the hall “Friends, Comrades – I am so delighted that you have followed my invitation!” Loud Cheers “Today I have a surprise for you, a special guest, as you may say!” More cheers “But let us take a seat first!” When all the powerful and wealthy men had taken their places Oblomov rose again “Allow me to present to you Christine von der Marwitz!” The table had risen fully by now – and what the men saw was this: A tall beautiful blonde woman, tied and gagged to a pole, clad just in black bra black panties and black hose. Stunned silence for one moment, then screams and shouts, hoots.
Chris just stared ahead, the air in the hall was cooler, so goose bumps formed on her skin “Gods give me strength” she prayed – and the vibrator between her legs began to buzz again – on a medium setting. “Boris Jossifovitch” one of Oblomov´s guests shouted “Are we allowed to inspect the merchandise?” Oblomov smiled “Be my guest, my friends!” Chris steeled herself.
Greedy hands touched her, squeezed her breasts, pinched her nipples, felt her up … this went on for a while till the first course was served. The table had begun to turn, Chris had lost her bra soon, it had not taken long, the first of her host´s guests had threw a gnawed off bone at her – and hit her on her forehead – Chris did not flinch - it got worse as the vodka flowed freely.
Just now the table had turned so that she faced Oblomov. It stopped. Her green drilled eyes into his black. Oblomov was fascinated by the intense hate in these eyes. He smiled maliciously – and the table made another turn. A piece of greasy meat hit Chris squarely in the face.
The hours passed: By now Chris had lost any track of time … she was a quivering, shivering dirty, slimy mess by now. She had orgasmed before those animals – more than once. Greasy fingers had touched her, pinched her nipples had smeared tiramisu on her body and in her face one man had put ice cubes in her panties.
Only her burning hate had helped her to get through this, without losing control. And she would remember every face: The one who had squeezed her breasts so tightly, she would have screamed, the one who had pinched her nipples simultaneously, the one who had slapped her in the face, the one who had kissed her on her gagged lips, the one who had tugged rhythmically at her crotch rope and pinched her nose – till she had the feeling to suffocate.
At some point Oblomov had gotten up. Chris had not noticed that in the ball of the harness gag a small tube had been installed “Friends! Surely the Lady is thirsty!” Cheers erupted. He took a goblet filled with vodka and pressed it against the tube of the gag “I want you to suck Christine!” he whispered “You will suck - now!” Chris swallowed her pride and did her best to suck.
The potent liquor doused the gag packing and Oblomov did not stop before the alcohol trickled down her throat burning hot – till the goblet was empty. Greedily the blonde sucked air through her nose. Chris felt slightly dizzy. Her eyes radiated bloodlust though “Such spirit!” Oblomov chuckled “I love that in a woman!”
His “friends” cheered – and another load of tiramisu hit Chris fully in the face, and obscured her sight.
Then it was over “Friends!” Oblomov had shouted, why don´t we continue this tremendous evening with some willing ladies!”
“Let us play with this blonde! Boris Jossifovitch!” one of his guests had shouted “No, I know your way to play Igor!” Oblomov smiled “And I have plans for my special guest!” As his guests filed out, Oblomov had come to Chris, forced her to look into his eyes “You did well today Frau von der Marwitz” he paused “And I will keep my word” he stroke her gently above her left cheek. Chris burned with revulsion.
She would have screamed if she had not been gagged so tightly. But her face betrayed nothing. Oblomov patted her on her forehead “We will see again soon!” He turned on his heels and left. Chris looked after him, breathing healthily. She was alone.
The pianist was spent, but an all-consuming hate blazed in her she strained against her bonds – but they held her fast. At some point she must have dozed off though – a hand touched her gently at her shoulder, Chris looked up and stared with bleary eyes at the Russian: It was Natasha, accompanied by Yelena and Ivanka and her guards – and the wheelchair “Release her, clean her up and bring her to my quarters” she turned on her heels – but turned around to the blonde “you look delicious!” The pianist was too tired to glare back.
Chris did not offer any resistance as she was released from the table, as her bonds were cut. Gently Yelena and Ivanka covered her body before she was helped into the wheelchair. She hated that device, at this moment though she was grateful: She could not have moved one metre under her own steam. Chris did not mind that she was blindfolded again – and that earbuds were applied.
She was in a trance like state, so Chris was only half aware of what happened to her. Afterwards she remembered soft hands caressing her, massaging her, cleaning her up. Another trip in the wheelchair … Slowly her foggy mind cleared, she took in her surroundings …. a voice interrupted her musings “You are in my quarters Chris” the blonde turned her head: before her stood Natasha, clad in comfortable lounge wear. Only slowly Chris processed that she was clad in comfortable lounge wear too – her wrists and ankles were manacled though, not that she did mind that at the moment.
Her mind told Chris “I sit at a dinner table: before me a well laid table, wine” She nodded at the table “those are the compensations?” “She sounds not angry, just tired” Natasha thought “Not only” she smiled “but for starters” Chris eyebrow´s rose “and?” The Russian chuckled
“Don´t get greedy” her face grew serious “The Boss was impressed by your performance – so you will get a day of rest tomorrow!” “Small favours” the blonde muttered “Don´t be such a spoil sport!” Natasha scolded her “Let us have dinner!”
Chris hated to admit it, but she was really hungry. Yelena and Ivanka rolled a trolley in: The scents told the blonde that Vietnamese Cuisine was on the menu “Yelena is a very good cook” Natasha smiled “and I heard you love Vietnamese Cuisine” Chris first impulse was to tell her host to f*ck herself, but she was hungry and the food smelled delicious. The Russian was amused by the conflicting emotions on her face “Let me tell you something, if you promise to behave, Ivanka will remove the manacles at your wrists, makes eating easier”
The blonde hesitated the fraction of a second only “I have been thoroughly humiliated enough today so it won´t hurt my pride to comply” So she nodded “You have my word” At a sign of Natasha Ivanka removed her manacles. The Russian had not lied: The menu was excellent and Chris tugged in – and enjoyed the exquisite white wine: ironically a German pinot blanc from the Palatinate.
For a while they ate in silence. Chris was not interested in a conversation and way too hungry. She felt the eyes of her host resting on her. The blonde looked up. Natasha did not look away, and a small smile curled her lips “I really would like to know what you are thinking right now”
Chris was too tired for any games, so she minced no words “You mean besides kicking your ass to hell and back again?” And for a moment her anger flared up, but she got a grip quickly “Discipline Christine San, discipline” Sensei Nakamura whispered.
She composed herself, swallowed a fork of the very hot and spicy Ga nuong sa, savoured the aroma of lemongrass, chili and other herbs and took a sip of the cool white wine “I am puzzled” she admitted frankly. “You had no problem to beat me thoroughly with the Tonfa and today you care for me, I noticed the undertones when you talked about your master and his guests. He is any not better than them, he is worse” Chris had spoken as calmly as she could and looked the Russian straight in the eye.
Natasha seemed not to be angry “From your perspective it must look that way, I understand that. But Boris Oblomov is my liege lord you may say, I owe him my allegiance and my life. I serve him, but that does not rule out that I have feelings. Believe me I know exactly what kind of man Boris Oblomov is”
Chris just nodded – she returned nothing and concentrated on her plate. Debating with Natasha would get her nothing and she was just not in the mood for a discourse about the Ethics of thieves in law, the Russian Mafia. For a while they ate in silence till the last course had been served.
Natasha smiled “Now Chris, Yelena and Ivanka will help you with your bathing room routine and making you ready for bed!”
Chris decided to just let it happen - whatever lay in store for her … things could not get any worse …. or so she hoped.
Anna´s Apartment – late night:
Anna still sat before the fire and stared into the flames. Anastasia had gone to bed a while ago. The day had not been a total waste. True, they had still not make a breakthrough but the historian had told Anna, she was sure they would get there. She knew it in her guts.
Meeting Vasyli again had been good – and who knew? – maybe she would take him up on his offer. He surely would be an asset. He was reliable, dependable, had nerves of steel – and was one of the best marksmen she knew.
Sybil´s call had been a sunray: Anna had given Anastasia a garbled version of the truth only – but the historian did not need to know all the details – yet. It was safer that way: Safer for Anastasia. Anna looked at her watch.
Probably Ragna had landed in Geneva already …. This plan could actually work … it would change the game. But till all pieces were in place Chris had to keep strong, and Anna and Anastasia had to find the damned treasure ….
Thank you very much [mention]GreyLord[/mention] ! I revised the preview a last time - so you may notice the one or the other change.
Chapter 5
“On open display”
or:
“To me belongeth vengeance, and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste.”
Deuteronomy 32:35
Russia, Saint Petersburg, Anna´s apartment, early evening:
“On open display”
or:
“To me belongeth vengeance, and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste.”
Deuteronomy 32:35
Russia, Saint Petersburg, Anna´s apartment, early evening:
Eventually Anastasia could not restrain herself any longer “You promised me answers” the words tumbled out of her mouth – louder than she had intended. Expectantly she looked at Anna. The Russian on the other hand seemed in no hurry to swallow the fork full of spaghetti al lemone, savoured the taste and took a sip of the fine Frascati “Yes, I promised you answers. You will get them – after dinner” she replied calmly and continued “Did anybody tell you it is impolite to talk about business at dinner?” and returned to her pasta. Anastasia was simply taken aback – and speechless.
She considered arguing the point, but Anna´s tone and demeanour had made it clear, that she would get her answers after dinner only. The Russian had not been overtly rude, no, the historian had to concede – but after they had still made not any headway with their research for any traces of the treasure though, Anna´s mood had turned sour. After the call of the mysterious Sybil she had been elated, relieved. That feeling of elation had melted like snow in the sun.
Earlier:
“We have an appointment” Anna had reminded Anastasia, after they had left the archives “Before we return home” she had added, her mouth a thin line, her jaws set. Anastasia´s curiosity had been peaked, when they had driven northwest to the old harbour. The violinist had stopped in the yard of an abandoned factory.
She seemed tense – but relaxed as she discovered a large black van. Its front lights blinked in a certain rhythm – Anastasia watched as Anna responded in the same way.
Three men got out of the van. The one in the middle was very tall, taller than the violinist. As Anastasia could see, he had short black cropped hair. Anna left the car “you stay” she turned to the historian “No, I won´t” the brown haired woman replied firmly – and sounded mutinous, challenging Anna.
The dark haired Russian looked her directly into the eye “I could handcuff you” – the air was tense. The two women locked eyes. Eventually Anna nodded “Okay come with me, but keep in the background – and don´t talk to anybody about this meeting, right?” Anastasia nodded and they left the car, turned around and said “Or I would have to kill you!”
The man in the middle walked at them – they met roughly in the middle between the two cars. “Anna!” a broad smile crossed his chiselled features “Vasyli” the violinist replied warmly – and they hugged.
Vasyli eyed Anna up and down “You look radiant!” Anna cracked a small smile “And you are still the worst liar I know. I look terrible” “A bit worse for wear” Vasyli conceded “It has been a while, the last time we met” I woke up in my own puke and you were gone!”
The violinist grinned “You should not have drunk so much!” Anna grew serious “You got the stuff I asked you for?” The man called Vasyli nodded “That and a few extras for old friendship´s sake “You are on the war path Anna” - the violinist hesitated “You could say that” she replied guardedly “Show me the merchandise”
“All in due time” Vasyli smiled “But you should introduce me to your silent beautiful companion first!” Anastasia blushed and Anna chuckled “And ruin her life? Hell no!” she turned to Anastasia “Anastasia, this is Vasyli, Vasyli this is Anastasia” and added “You should stay away from him: Vasyli has broken more hearts than I can count!”
“My pleasure Anastasia!” and to the historian´s utter surprise Vasyli greeted her with a perfect hand kiss – his lips barely brushed her hand. Anastasia´s cheeks again reddened slightly. “The merchandise Vasyli?” Anna interrupted – only a tad impatient “Excuse me Anastasia” Anna´s acquaintance smiled at her “but when the Grand Duchesse is calling – you should not let her wait, maybe another time!” He followed Anna who strode already to the van.
“I meant it” Vasyli remarked, when he had caught up with her “You are on the war path, Anna Alexandrovna Romanova, I know you” “Not a war I chose” Anna returned curtly “This fight found me – and before you ask I cannot tell you much more. Does the name Boris Oblomov ring a bell?”
Vasyli grew serious “The man is powerful, fabulously rich – and ruthless” Anna chuckled mirthlessly “That we learned already” and made a decision “He has kidnapped my best friend and threatens to kill her, if I don´t do his bidding”
“Then you should hurry Anna” Vasyli remarked, all jest gone “A friend of mine at the police had a case. Several high class prostitutes and powerful beautiful women tortured and killed – the evidence pointed in Oblomov´s direction – and my friend was firmly told to let the matter rest. The women were all tall blondes” Anna´s face grew even more fierce “If he hurts Chris I will cut his balls off, with a blunt bread knife and make him eat them!”
They had reached the back of the van by now and Vasyli´s men opened its backdoors. In the compartment several heavy looking wooden boxes, customary for military gear, Anna inspected the content – and nodded “Thank you Vasyli!” She turned on her heel to leave. Vasyli held her back gentle but firm “Anna, I know you are as tough as nails, but this guy is dangerous – you would never ask for it, so I offer it to you: Call me, whenever you need help”
Anna´s hard expression grew soft “I know Vasyli – and I will” she hugged him tightly while his men loaded the boxes in her car. They parted – and Anna turned abruptly on her heel and strode to her car, straight, head held high.
Vasyli knew why she had turned so swiftly. She didn´t want him seeing the tears in her eyes. Anastasia and Anna did not talk, when they drove back to Anna´s Apartment. Now and then the historian chanced a glance at the violinist: She had gripped the steering wheel tightly, jaws set, her mouth a thin line, her knuckles white.
Anna´s Appartment - the present:
After dinner Anna and Anastasia relocated to the living room. Anastasia felt like sitting on hot coals, but something held her back to approach the violinist a second time. In the large fire place a bright fire burned and filled the room with its warmth.
Anna had dressed into a thick red woollen turtleneck, black leggings and two pairs of thick red woollen socks on her feet, sitting on the couch with her legs folded under her, holding a crystal goblet filled with red wine in her right she starred into the fire, now and then taking a sip of the rich and heavy red wine.
The dark haired violinist seemed to be far away for a while. She let the red wine swirl around in her goblet looked into the swirling flames then at Anastasia “Sybil ….” she began “Who is Sybil? First and foremost she is a very good friend of Chris and me. Besides that? She is our secretary, as I told you – Chris´ and mine. Chris and I are working as investigators, when we are not on the stage”
Anna paused – concentrating - she took another sip of the wine …
“Chris founded Art Incorporated while we studied in Vienna together – and I joined her. Sybil is also one of the most accomplished hackers in the world. She hacked the Pentagon and the FBI during her studies at the MIT” Now Anastasia listened with rapt attention “Art Incorporated is specialized on recovering stolen and lost art” Anna added.
The historian nodded “That is why your family wants you to find the Romanov-Treasure” she concluded” “Among other things” Anna agreed “They know I can handle myself”
“And who is Ragna?” Anastasia pressed on “Ragna ….” a small smile curled Anna´s lips “Ragna is a very good friend too – and Chris´ and my Housekeeper” The Violinist raised her hand, as Anastasia opened her mouth “She insists on that title – and you don´t mess with a 6´8´´ tall blonde Icelandress” she smiled “Sparring with Ragna is a challenge, she is an excellent cook too” Anna paused for a moment – a warm smile crossed her lips, but was gone as quick - “And before you ask? Sybil called because she uncovered information that could prove vital in saving Chris – no, I will not tell more, I have to think things through, then we will talk about that – I promise”
Her tone made it clear, that this was final.
Anna changed the subject “How are you Anastasia? I don´t think it happens every day that you are assailed and tied up and gagged …”
Slowly at first, haltingly – then even more fluently, Anastasia began to talk … and the more she talked the easier it felt. And Anna was a good listener as she found out.
Day 3: Russia, unknown Location, hours before:
“Frau von der Marwitz you do look radiant!” The voice of Yelena, one of the maids assigned to her, making her presentable, interrupted Chris´ line of thought. She eyed herself critically in the large mirror “I do look perfect from the tips of my toes to the hips of my hose – and the crown of my head” a sarcastic little smile crossed her lips. Yelena and Ivanka had done a perfect job:
The makeup high lightened her classical features – and covered the still ugly bruise under her left eye. The two young women had massaged away most of the pains in her arms and legs – and her back. Chris had in fact enjoyed the massage of her feet, the pedicure – having her Brazilian landing strip trimmed by another woman had been a peculiar, but not unpleasant sensation.
Outdone themselves the two maids had with Chris´ blond mane. It resembled now a crown woven of braids. One large diamond rested on her breast bone. On her feet she wore a pair of stylish black Aquazura Mules with a medium block heel. Black hose, black bra and black panties completed her “attire”.
“I do look like a vamp or like an over prized whore” Chris mused darkly. After being released from the Pillar she had spent the time resting and meditating. Preparing for what would be coming her way. The blonde was resolved not to give her captor the pleasure to lose control. This was about the only thing she could do – for now. Her time would come. Chris focused on that moment.
Absentmindedly she donned the silken black dressing gown Yelena gently laid over her bare shoulders “Thank you Yelena” Chris smiled at the younger woman, who blushed slightly. They were interrupted by her “honour guard” Natasha gave Chris the once over “You did a perfect job Yelena and Ivanka, the Boss will be pleased” the two maids curtsied.
She turned to the pianist “The Boss seems to be in a good mood today, if you behave, we can forego the gag and the wheelchair – and you can walk on your own accord. Blindfold, handcuffs and earbuds are mandatory though” Chris nodded “I will comply” – even those small favours would be a blessing!
Five minutes later they walked along a long corridor, after Chris and her “honour guard” had left the elevator. The air felt cool on Chris hot skin – not cool enough to cause goose bumps. Her guards guided her – surprisingly gentle: A short stop, a turn to the left. She crossed a threshold. They were in a smaller room now. She felt that someone fumbled at the blindfold, while another pair of hands removed her ear buds.
Chris looked around: They were indeed in a rectangular room, in its centre stood a polished round stone table, in its centre a metal post. “Not the fitting location for a festive dinner” the blond thought “We are on the level below the dining hall” – as if Natasha had her thoughts read again – “this table can be elevated to the dining hall ….”
Only slowly Chris realized the meaning behind the words “I will be sitting on that table” her pulse accelerated, she tensed – she felt a firm grip at her shoulder – “Remember what we talked about” Natasha had spoken perfectly calm, but this was enough: Chris composed herself – even if her instincts told her to fight – it costed her an enormous effort to withstand that instinct.
“Let us get you ready!” Natasha spoke – almost gently “It is time”
30 Minutes later Chris was in a murderous mood. With all the strength she could muster she tried to control her raging fury: She sat on the cold stone table: Chris´ back was pressed firmly against the pole her arms were welded together behind the metal post at wrists, elbows: under – and above the joint. A tight figure eight breast harness compressed and enhanced her breasts from above and below. She wore her bra – still.
At one point while Natasha had restrained her Chris almost had lost control: when the Russian had inserted a vibrator in her pussy and crotch roped her. Thankfully the blonde had already been gagged with a very large harness ball gag, which hid the substantial packing of two panties – her own.
Surprisingly gentle the Russian had calmed her “You are strong, you will get through this” Chris eyes had blazed with supressed fury, but she had relented and allowed her Handler to restrain her further.
Now Chris sat on the table. Her legs had been frog tied first, the nyloned soles of her feet her big toes had been tied together afterwards. Natasha had taken pleasure in caressing her soft soles before she tied them together – this position made Chris as vulnerable as she could possibly be. She was still fighting her emotions, the blonde had to fight hard to supress the hot hanger.
But she would get through this. Her handler had encouraged her in a peculiar way - Natasha had gripped her head with both hands and kissed her fully on her ball gagged lips “Stay strong!” Chris had been surprised how fiercely her handler had kissed her. There was more to the Russian than met the eye.
Now she was alone in the chamber. Natasha and her guards had left some time ago. Chris tested her ropes – not that she expected to find any weak spot: It kept her mind occupied. And she could not help it, the crotch rope and the vibrator did their work – and her body reacted. The blonde hated herself for that.
A while later her perfect pitch detected dimmed sounds above her: Voices, steps, laughter. Suddenly the floor plates above her moved, the sounds were clearer now, a spotlight covered her in light.
The table began to move upwards – Chris steeled herself, her face an inscrutable mask, like that of an ancient Greek marble goddess: Unearthly beautiful, smooth and pale and bare of any emotion.
Minutes earlier: Dinner Hall:
Boris Oblomov was in high spirits. Natasha had informed him, that the blonde pianist had yielded. His friends would be delighted. And this evening´s main exhibit would serve his ambitions and his prestige. He observed his guests: The vodka was already flowing freely. The dinner table had been formed in a u-shape. In the empty space between the stone table would appear soon.
The Oligarchs booming voice rang through the hall “Friends, Comrades – I am so delighted that you have followed my invitation!” Loud Cheers “Today I have a surprise for you, a special guest, as you may say!” More cheers “But let us take a seat first!” When all the powerful and wealthy men had taken their places Oblomov rose again “Allow me to present to you Christine von der Marwitz!” The table had risen fully by now – and what the men saw was this: A tall beautiful blonde woman, tied and gagged to a pole, clad just in black bra black panties and black hose. Stunned silence for one moment, then screams and shouts, hoots.
Chris just stared ahead, the air in the hall was cooler, so goose bumps formed on her skin “Gods give me strength” she prayed – and the vibrator between her legs began to buzz again – on a medium setting. “Boris Jossifovitch” one of Oblomov´s guests shouted “Are we allowed to inspect the merchandise?” Oblomov smiled “Be my guest, my friends!” Chris steeled herself.
Greedy hands touched her, squeezed her breasts, pinched her nipples, felt her up … this went on for a while till the first course was served. The table had begun to turn, Chris had lost her bra soon, it had not taken long, the first of her host´s guests had threw a gnawed off bone at her – and hit her on her forehead – Chris did not flinch - it got worse as the vodka flowed freely.
Just now the table had turned so that she faced Oblomov. It stopped. Her green drilled eyes into his black. Oblomov was fascinated by the intense hate in these eyes. He smiled maliciously – and the table made another turn. A piece of greasy meat hit Chris squarely in the face.
The hours passed: By now Chris had lost any track of time … she was a quivering, shivering dirty, slimy mess by now. She had orgasmed before those animals – more than once. Greasy fingers had touched her, pinched her nipples had smeared tiramisu on her body and in her face one man had put ice cubes in her panties.
Only her burning hate had helped her to get through this, without losing control. And she would remember every face: The one who had squeezed her breasts so tightly, she would have screamed, the one who had pinched her nipples simultaneously, the one who had slapped her in the face, the one who had kissed her on her gagged lips, the one who had tugged rhythmically at her crotch rope and pinched her nose – till she had the feeling to suffocate.
At some point Oblomov had gotten up. Chris had not noticed that in the ball of the harness gag a small tube had been installed “Friends! Surely the Lady is thirsty!” Cheers erupted. He took a goblet filled with vodka and pressed it against the tube of the gag “I want you to suck Christine!” he whispered “You will suck - now!” Chris swallowed her pride and did her best to suck.
The potent liquor doused the gag packing and Oblomov did not stop before the alcohol trickled down her throat burning hot – till the goblet was empty. Greedily the blonde sucked air through her nose. Chris felt slightly dizzy. Her eyes radiated bloodlust though “Such spirit!” Oblomov chuckled “I love that in a woman!”
His “friends” cheered – and another load of tiramisu hit Chris fully in the face, and obscured her sight.
Then it was over “Friends!” Oblomov had shouted, why don´t we continue this tremendous evening with some willing ladies!”
“Let us play with this blonde! Boris Jossifovitch!” one of his guests had shouted “No, I know your way to play Igor!” Oblomov smiled “And I have plans for my special guest!” As his guests filed out, Oblomov had come to Chris, forced her to look into his eyes “You did well today Frau von der Marwitz” he paused “And I will keep my word” he stroke her gently above her left cheek. Chris burned with revulsion.
She would have screamed if she had not been gagged so tightly. But her face betrayed nothing. Oblomov patted her on her forehead “We will see again soon!” He turned on his heels and left. Chris looked after him, breathing healthily. She was alone.
The pianist was spent, but an all-consuming hate blazed in her she strained against her bonds – but they held her fast. At some point she must have dozed off though – a hand touched her gently at her shoulder, Chris looked up and stared with bleary eyes at the Russian: It was Natasha, accompanied by Yelena and Ivanka and her guards – and the wheelchair “Release her, clean her up and bring her to my quarters” she turned on her heels – but turned around to the blonde “you look delicious!” The pianist was too tired to glare back.
Chris did not offer any resistance as she was released from the table, as her bonds were cut. Gently Yelena and Ivanka covered her body before she was helped into the wheelchair. She hated that device, at this moment though she was grateful: She could not have moved one metre under her own steam. Chris did not mind that she was blindfolded again – and that earbuds were applied.
She was in a trance like state, so Chris was only half aware of what happened to her. Afterwards she remembered soft hands caressing her, massaging her, cleaning her up. Another trip in the wheelchair … Slowly her foggy mind cleared, she took in her surroundings …. a voice interrupted her musings “You are in my quarters Chris” the blonde turned her head: before her stood Natasha, clad in comfortable lounge wear. Only slowly Chris processed that she was clad in comfortable lounge wear too – her wrists and ankles were manacled though, not that she did mind that at the moment.
Her mind told Chris “I sit at a dinner table: before me a well laid table, wine” She nodded at the table “those are the compensations?” “She sounds not angry, just tired” Natasha thought “Not only” she smiled “but for starters” Chris eyebrow´s rose “and?” The Russian chuckled
“Don´t get greedy” her face grew serious “The Boss was impressed by your performance – so you will get a day of rest tomorrow!” “Small favours” the blonde muttered “Don´t be such a spoil sport!” Natasha scolded her “Let us have dinner!”
Chris hated to admit it, but she was really hungry. Yelena and Ivanka rolled a trolley in: The scents told the blonde that Vietnamese Cuisine was on the menu “Yelena is a very good cook” Natasha smiled “and I heard you love Vietnamese Cuisine” Chris first impulse was to tell her host to f*ck herself, but she was hungry and the food smelled delicious. The Russian was amused by the conflicting emotions on her face “Let me tell you something, if you promise to behave, Ivanka will remove the manacles at your wrists, makes eating easier”
The blonde hesitated the fraction of a second only “I have been thoroughly humiliated enough today so it won´t hurt my pride to comply” So she nodded “You have my word” At a sign of Natasha Ivanka removed her manacles. The Russian had not lied: The menu was excellent and Chris tugged in – and enjoyed the exquisite white wine: ironically a German pinot blanc from the Palatinate.
For a while they ate in silence. Chris was not interested in a conversation and way too hungry. She felt the eyes of her host resting on her. The blonde looked up. Natasha did not look away, and a small smile curled her lips “I really would like to know what you are thinking right now”
Chris was too tired for any games, so she minced no words “You mean besides kicking your ass to hell and back again?” And for a moment her anger flared up, but she got a grip quickly “Discipline Christine San, discipline” Sensei Nakamura whispered.
She composed herself, swallowed a fork of the very hot and spicy Ga nuong sa, savoured the aroma of lemongrass, chili and other herbs and took a sip of the cool white wine “I am puzzled” she admitted frankly. “You had no problem to beat me thoroughly with the Tonfa and today you care for me, I noticed the undertones when you talked about your master and his guests. He is any not better than them, he is worse” Chris had spoken as calmly as she could and looked the Russian straight in the eye.
Natasha seemed not to be angry “From your perspective it must look that way, I understand that. But Boris Oblomov is my liege lord you may say, I owe him my allegiance and my life. I serve him, but that does not rule out that I have feelings. Believe me I know exactly what kind of man Boris Oblomov is”
Chris just nodded – she returned nothing and concentrated on her plate. Debating with Natasha would get her nothing and she was just not in the mood for a discourse about the Ethics of thieves in law, the Russian Mafia. For a while they ate in silence till the last course had been served.
Natasha smiled “Now Chris, Yelena and Ivanka will help you with your bathing room routine and making you ready for bed!”
Chris decided to just let it happen - whatever lay in store for her … things could not get any worse …. or so she hoped.
Anna´s Apartment – late night:
Anna still sat before the fire and stared into the flames. Anastasia had gone to bed a while ago. The day had not been a total waste. True, they had still not make a breakthrough but the historian had told Anna, she was sure they would get there. She knew it in her guts.
Meeting Vasyli again had been good – and who knew? – maybe she would take him up on his offer. He surely would be an asset. He was reliable, dependable, had nerves of steel – and was one of the best marksmen she knew.
Sybil´s call had been a sunray: Anna had given Anastasia a garbled version of the truth only – but the historian did not need to know all the details – yet. It was safer that way: Safer for Anastasia. Anna looked at her watch.
Probably Ragna had landed in Geneva already …. This plan could actually work … it would change the game. But till all pieces were in place Chris had to keep strong, and Anna and Anastasia had to find the damned treasure ….
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
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mrjones2009
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I sense something happening with Natasha and Chris. Feelings bubbling under the surface...
And what plan has Anna put in place. One thing is for sure. I can't wait to find out!
And what plan has Anna put in place. One thing is for sure. I can't wait to find out!
Well already five chapters in before I get a chance to turn around and catch up with all that’s happening, but yet again you have the makings of a major success right here. I always like the way you split each part, the whole sometime earlier sections etc. what a fun, tantalising and tempting read
Indeed, I too, think that you are just starting to let us know the depths of Natasha. Picturing Chris, frogtied on the table, hands and elbows tied tightly behind the post, I think that her knees must have been pulled flat to the tabletop. And I wonder, sometimes, why do we even bother to start with a bra that's sure to be lost?
A 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
That one is simple enough I think [mention]GreyLord[/mention]
Who does not like it to unwrap presents? Especially a pair of breasts like Chris´?It took me half an evening, but I caught up with this story. Still the same old gang, but it all seems a little darker, and I have to say, the smaller cast (only two perspectives) seems to work out well. Lots of tension!
I gotta admit I am a little scared for Chris. As she is not freed soon, the torture will only increase in severity. How could you possibly top this and a humiliating party? Anyway, good stuff.
I gotta admit I am a little scared for Chris. As she is not freed soon, the torture will only increase in severity. How could you possibly top this and a humiliating party? Anyway, good stuff.
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared April 8
Spy Camp March 19
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared April 8
Spy Camp March 19
All My Stories On This Site
Absolutely SUPERB! You're definitely keeping up the VERY high standard. Natasha is still my favourite, btw.
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]LunaDog[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention]
Thank you all for your comments and the interest in this adventure! I will respond in more detail to your comments in due course.
Thank you all for your comments and the interest in this adventure! I will respond in more detail to your comments in due course.
Thank you for your insightful comments [mention]Beaumains[/mention] - the smaller cast has definitely its advantages. Concentrating on a few characters only makes the job easier. A large cast is harder to manage. And I enjoy it to explore Annas and Chris past before the Hunts. Especially Annas past. Since I always had an interest in Russian History this story is a welcome opportunity to follow both roads.
Chris has earned herself at least a day of rest - so she has some time time to recharge her batteries and conserve her strength. But there is indeed a Damocles Sword hanging above Chris´ head. But be assured that Anna does her best to save her friend. A rescue plan is already set in motion - in Chapter 5, due today, we will learn more.
[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]
Ragna Sigurdsdottir (imagine: Ragga Ragnars “Vikings”) stood in a doorway. From her hiding spot she kept the entrance of the modern apartment block across the other side of the street firmly in sight. If her informations were correct, her target should appear any minute for her morning run.
Ragna herself looked like any other jogger, in her running attire. Only one thing stood out: Her stature. With 6´ 2´´ Ragna resembled the proverbial Valkyrie perfectly. At Valhalla she would have sat at Odin´s table. It was easy to imagine her fighting in the thickest of melees, wielding her sword with skill and precision.
The entrance doors on the other side opened, a tall young woman of lithe built stepped on the street, her long blond hair hidden under a pink woollen cap. Pink seemed to be her favourite colour anyway:
A pink fleece jacket, black leggings with pink stripes and pink running shoes – she made a few stretching moves and started to jog in an even pace. Ragna followed her in a safe distance, but never leaving her out of her sights.
She would shadow her target for the next three days. Then Ragna would strike. She would have wished for more time, but time was of the essence: they had only these three days. What made her task easier: The Islandress had not spotted any personal security.
Ragna accelerated her tempo closing the distance. The target was fit, that was for sure. The blonde followed it through a green park. Later in the day she would pay the apartment of her target a visit ….
Day 4: Saint Petersburg, Anna´s Apartment, around the same time:
Carefully Anna tapped on her stockinged feet through the corridor, her running shoes in her left hand. Gently she pushed the door to the guestroom where Anastasia was sleeping open. The Russian listened to the deep and regular breaths of the young historian and decided to let her sleep. Anastasia could use the rest.
Yesterday and the day before had to be rough on her. Anna had to clear her head though. They had made no progress – and hell knew what torture Chris would have to endure today. A brisk run along the Fontanka Embankment and back would do the trick.
Stealthily Anna tapped to the Entrance door, put her running shoes on and checked her gear for a final time: Her phone her taser gun and a few other things. The Russian closed the door behind her – and made her descent to the street. A short while later Anna stepped onto the street. It was another cold and clear morning. Anna took a deep breath and started running.
One hour later she had reached her starting point again. The Run had cleared her mind, now she was ready for the day! For another foray into the depths of the Archives! Anna was in good spirits – and hungry.
Hopefully Anastasia had prepared breakfast: Hot strong coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon … She typed in the security code to her apartment and pushed the door gently open. The violinist was greeted by silence, not the heavenly smells of strong black coffee, sizzling, crispy bacon.
Anna took off her running shoes and tapped on her stockinged feet into the kitchen: It was empty. Grudgingly the Russian prepared the coffee machine. Caffeine was vital, without it, she would not get through the day.
Anastasia obviously slept soundly still – Anna could hear nothing as she stood before the door of the guestroom. Gently she knocked. Nothing. The Russian knocked again – and opened the door. She stepped into room and found – nothing. The bed was empty. Anna cursed under her breath. Where the hell was Anastasia? Carefully she searched every room. Nothing – one room left, the living room.
The violinist returned to Anastasia´s room. Anna was fuming. The historian would rue this day.
Anna skimmed the room – till her eyes rested on a piece paper on the large wooden table, made from polished Cherrywood. She walked to the table, grabbed the paper – and read:
Dear Anna,
I am sorry but I have to follow a hunch – I think I know now where we find the beginning of the trail which will lead us to the treasure. Don´t worry! Everything will be fine!
Anastasia
Anna read the letter once, read it a second time – first in disbelief, than in anger, her face turned pale and her body tensed “You will be sorry, that is for sure, after I spanked your butt, and chained you to the bed” the Russian fumed “Don´t worry!” Is this bookworm out of her mind?” She threw her arms in the air in exasperation in the air - Anna paced the floor back and forth, muttering under her breath. After a few minutes she calmed down – and began to search Anastasia´s belongings and her room “Of course laptop and phone are missing!” Anna hit the wall with her right fist – and cursed “Ouch!”
What now? The violinist focused: She dialled the historian´s number: the call went straight to voice mail. Anna was just about to abandon the search, when the violinist spotted a post it on the working desk, partially hidden by other papers “A-N!!! Samsonova!!” she read. Anna racked her brain: “Samsonova” did strike a bell, she knew that name from somewhere … and A-N? Suddenly a small smile curled her lips “A-N as in Alexander Newsky” But what did Anastasia mean by that? The Alexander-Newsky-Prospect? Unlikely.
Suddenly she hit herself with her left palm on the forehead hard “You are a complete idiot Anna Romanova!” she chided herself: The Alexander-Newsky-Monastery! That made perfect sense: The famous monastery was closely connected to the House of Romanov since the days of Peter the Great. And Anastasia had mentioned that the Monastery housed an extended Archive, which might be worth a closer looking into ….
Anna made up her mind: Coffee! A shower! A call to Sybil: The hacker had to find out all about Samsonova. And then she would check out the Monastery herself …
Unknown Location, around the same time: Natasha´s bedroom:
Chris awoke from a deep and dreamless sleep abruptly. She kept her eyes closed, listened to the signals her body sent her: She lay on something soft, her body covered by smooth silken sheets. Obviously she wore silken PJ´s: That her wrists and ankles were shackled with the heavily padded manacles again, did not really surprise her, nor that her ankles were chained to the bedframe.
Her body ached still in many places, nothing big, but lots of small bruises and such. The blonde felt surprisingly well rested though. Still tired, but better. Her thoughts wandered back to the late evening: Ivanka and Yelena had indeed helped her with her bathing room routine. The two young maids were very skilled – as Chris had learned already. They had treated her gentle and with respect – and took some liberties with her body. Which the pianist let happen – there was no need to fight it.
In the end that meant, that she found herself afterwards loosely but firmly spread-eagled with silk scarves to Natasha´s bed. Chris had been gagged with two panties. A two times folded silk scarf covered her lower face from nose to chin. The Scarf covered her nose. But that had not been all: Under her nose a wad of gauze had been packed: It had been doused with a substance which Chris was forced to inhale. It made her lightheaded, a bit dizzy – and heightened her arousal. A dark fire was smouldering between her loins.
She had been blindfolded with another scarf. And the maids had applied a crotch scarf too. That one was tied tightly. Tighter than her other bonds.
The blonde did not really fight her bonds, she was simply too tired, she just lay on the soft mattress and enjoyed the rest – at last Chris heard someone singing to herself in Russian in the bathroom – minutes passed. Minutes later she heard soft barefoot footfalls on the carpeted floor. Someone climbed on the mattress between her splayed legs, her body tensed “Shhh” she heard a silken dark voice speaking softly “No need to get anxious Chris I will not harm you – on the contrary.
Natasha´s voice was dark with desire, dark with longing. Chris shuddered as she felt hot warm lips kissing her on the balls of her left foot … she shuddered again as those hot lips placed another kiss next to the other a third one. Soft moist lips closed around her left big toe – and winced: The Russian had bitten her.
The blonde had to giggle though as the hot tongue explored the sensitive skin between the big and the next toe. Slowly, gently. The Russian bade her time, worshipping the toes of her left foot. Each one. Her tongue had caressed each toe of her right foot too. Now and then, seemingly without rhythm Natasha bit her. Not hard, but so that Chris felt it keenly.
But Natasha had not stopped there. Chris shuddered as she felt a soft kiss above her tied left ankle. With utmost care, her captor placed one kiss to the next, slowly, very slowly upwards. Natasha felt the quivering of Chris muscular thigh under her soft caresses.
The blonde groaned softly, she balled her hands to fists, flexed her feet. It was a slow, endless, gentle assault on her already overloaded and tired senses. The Russian caressed every square inch of Chris´ hot skin, stroked her gently kissed her hard on her gagged mouth. Even through the silk she felt the heat of Natasha´s lips.
She could not see it, but at some point Natasha had taken a bottle of oil and poured it on her palms and began to massage, her feet her legs – gently. Chris groaned softly, strained against her bonds “Ouch!” the blonde cursed. Natasha had taken her left nipple between her lips, sucked at it – and bit her, her tongue explored her left breast, glided around her nipple, down, around the base of her breasts:
The Russian turned to her right breast. Chris moaned and strained against her silken restraints “Shhh ….” Natasha whispered “Relax and enjoy” The Russian planted one kiss between her heaving breasts. It felt like fire on Chris´ hot skin. It seemed to burn through the layers of her skin to her core.
Natasha planted one kiss to the next, her hot tongue explored Chris´ navel. Further down south the devilish tongue and lips went … and the blonde did just let it go. Resistance – after all – was futile.
What she not could see? Natasha slipped her violet panties of – and pressed them on Chris´ nose. The blonde struggled. The Russian took the panties away, repeated the procedure. Once. Twice – before she pulled the used garment over the blonde´s head. It´s moist crotch panel rested firmly above Chris´ silk covered flaring nostrils. The pianist found the scent intoxicating “Breath in Chris” Natasha whispered “Just breath – do not fight it!” Chris did breath. Did breath through her silk covered nose and the pair of panties. No, she did not fight it. Her body had taken control.
The blonde felt Natasha fumbling at the crotch scarf – removing it. Chris did not know how many times she had been forced to orgasm this day and in the evening. A jolt of electricity shot through her body as the devilish hot tongue explored her outer Labia, gently and thoroughly. Oh that tongue! The blonde hated herself for it, but it felt so good! She grated her rips, she moaned – and she let go ….. then? Sweet oblivion.
“Morning sleepyhead!” her captor´s way too cheerful voice brought Chris´s back to the present. With a sigh she opened her eyes and looked at a beaming Natasha, already dressed for work, which meant, a black leather suit and knee high high-heeled boots “You looked so innocent when you were sleeping!” the Russian teased her.
Expectantly Chris looked at her “I guess you are not having breakfast with me then – I really looked forward to that!” the blonde´s tone harboured on the fine line between irony and insult.
“No, I won´t!” Natasha returned cheerily “No rest for the wicked you know!” She grew serious “Ivanka and Yelena will take good care of you: They will serve your breakfast and after that you will be transferred to the Spa – you understand that there will be certain security measures in place” The blonde nodded “Yes, because I am such a threat right now. I have no idea where I am, I am barely dressed and shackled hand and foot – so I really pose a threat”
This time Chris did not made any effort to hide the sarcasm “My, my” her captor chuckled “You are really grumpy this morning!” The blonde shook her head “No, not grumpy, I am tired, that´s all – and I do know that I sound like an old Gramophone!”
“Then use this day to rest” Natasha smiled “Enjoy being pampered in the Spa and the afternoon! You will like it! We will see each other in the evening!” turned on her heels and left – Chris looked after her and sighed. Something told her, that she should use this day as best as she could.
She had to conserve her strength and mentally she had to be ready for anything “Even if Anna finds the treasure …” she mused “I doubt that Oblomov will keep his end of the bargain”
Chris had seen the look in his eyes yesterday: The man was a predator, a sadist. So far he had not touched her but he would surely enjoy breaking her. The dinner yesterday evening was just the overture.
And Natasha had made clear where her loyalties lay. In the end she would obey her master, even if she felt attracted to Chris “The sad truth is: I am alone” The arrival of Yelena and Ivanka interrupted these dark thoughts ….
St. Petersburg: Alexander Newsky Monastery around 1000 AM:
Anna entered the Courtyard of the Monastery Complex through the southern Entrance. Several times she had tried to reach Anastasia, but every time the call had gone straight to voice mail. The Russian didn´t like the implications of this silence at all. She crossed the southern courtyard and strode to the entrance in the southern wing. She stepped through the entrance door and followed the signs that lead the way to the Archives.
The violinist passed the entrance and strode to the service point where a blonde young woman in a grey business costume was busy gossiping with someone at the phone – and polishing her red nails. The blonde did not even look up as Anna stood right before the desk.
Anna already fumed, but she kept her temperament in check – for now. The violinist cleared her throat - the blonde looked briefly up, not interrupting her call “Yes?” Anna produced her smartphone and showed the accountant Anastasia´s picture “Did you see this woman today?” She spoke clear and firm.
The blonde barely looked at the picture “No” and returned to her caller “You know Ivan is sooo cute! He made me the sweetest compliments! she cooed “He is …” Whatever he was? The person on the other end would never learn. Anna wrenched the phone out of the blonde´s hand and slammed it on the table.
Aghast the blonde stared up at her, Anna was towering over her, eyes blazing “Do I have your attention now?” she spoke in a dangerous low voice “Who are you!” the receptionist demanded defensively “How do you dare!” The violinist straightened herself to her full height of 186 centimetres“I am Grand Duchesse Anna Alexandra Romanova and you will address me as Your Grace! My family donates a substantial amount of money every year to the Monastery – and I am pretty sure, the Metropolit will not be very pleased if my family stops these donations. So Lady: Get me someone with less beauty and more brains!” The blonde stared at her “Now!” Anna bellowed.
The receptionist looked in disbelief at Anna, before she stammered “Yes your Grace, I will get you Father Ismail at once!” She grabbed the phone and dialled - Anna supressed a smile “I do love custom oriented service!”
Geneva, around the same time:
Ragna followed the target to the university. The young woman was totally oblivious to the fact that she was shadowed “Her bad” Ragna thought. The target was amiably chatting at the phone as she strode across the campus. The Icelandress knew the timetable of her target – Sybil had been most helpful: The target would be attending tutorials and lectures – so she had enough time to check out her apartment.
30 minutes later Ragna stood before an apartment door on the 8th floor. The floor was empty. She was surprised how easy the lock was to pick. She entered the apartment and closed the door behind her.
Quickly she searched the apartment to be sure that nobody would disturb her. From her backpack she produced several items and set to work. As she left the apartment 30 minutes had passed.
Ragna would have wished for more time, but they were on a tight schedule. She had three days only to make all the necessary preparations. It would be a tight fit. But Chris´ life was on the line. A thought crossed her mind:
This evening the target was to go to the opera: Dimitri Shostakovich´s opera Lady Macbeth of Minsk. Ragna decided she would go to the opera too. Who knew? Maybe an opening would present itself to make close contact with the target – the herculean blonde smiled and she had just the idea …
Saint Petersburg: Early Afternoon: Villa of Olga Samsonova around 0200 PM:
Anna stood before the massive front gate of the Samsonova estate. The impressive Villa itself had been built at the end of the 19th century. The Samsonovs had “acquired” it during the fogs of the Revolution – and owned it ever since.
Why was Anna here? Father Ismail had been most helpful. He did not only remember Anastasia, but he could tell Anna what she had been looking for. And that information had energized the dark haired Russian. Could this be the break through? For the first time in these turbulent days she felt hope, hope that she might really find the treasure.
Her enthusiasm had not lasted long though. One of the items Anastasia had researched was gone. Father Ismail had been sure, that it been among the documents the young historian had demanded to see. Anna had a shrewd idea what had happened. Anastasia had simply “borrowed” it.
The violinist had promised the Monastery another sizable donation to keep this incident under wraps. What had intrigued Anna even more: The Samsonovs had always shown a great interest in the Archives of the Monastery – and Father Ismael had told Anna a most intriguing story, this was the reason why she waited now before the Entrance gates of the Samsonov-Estate.
Anna pressed the bell button. Seconds passed “Yes?” a husky alto voice demanded “This is Grand Duchesse Anna Alexandrovna Romanova. I have an appointment with Olga Samsonova” Anna responded “Wait!” the voice told her curtly. Anna shifted impatiently from one feet to the other - eventually almost noiselessly the massive gates swung open “About time” she huffed. The violinist followed the curved, paved pathway upwards with long strides.
At the entrance door a tall, brown haired woman in her forties was awaiting her. She wore her hair in a severe bun and a classic grey business costume and medium heels “I am Jelena Issinbajewa, Personal Secretary of Miss Samsonova, if you would follow me Your Grace!” she addressed Anna sourly “As if I am some pushy saleswoman selling buttons at the door” The dark haired Aristocrat had taken an instant dislike to that Issinbajewa Woman.
She followed Issinbajewa through the imposing entrance hall. They entered another room, which Anna recognized as Samsonova´s private study. Behind a large polished wooden desk sat a black haired woman in her early fifties.
She rose as Issinbajewa entered. Samsonova was tall, and curvaceously build. Her black power suit fit perfectly “My dear Grand Duchesse it is such a pleasure to meet you!” They exchanged pecks on the cheeks – and Anna got a fair whiff of her heavy perfume. Her host was polite enough, but her smile did not reach her eyes – Anna noticed.
“Why don´t you have a seat” she bade Anna graciously to sit “Bring us some tea Jelena please!” Her PA nodded curtly “Of course Madam” Anna and her host engaged in small talk, till tea was served. The violinist had to admit, the tea was excellent “Dear Grand Duchesse” Samsonova smiled “I am a great admirer of your art!
Your last concert at the Bolshoi was fantastic!” Anna returned the smiled politely, personally she considered her performance this evening as good, but not brilliant. Samsonova continued to heap praise on Anna´s play: How well she had played, how brilliant her tone had been, how well she had met the composers intentions.
It costed the violinist much, not to snap “The composer’s intentions?” As if anybody knew those at all … Finally Anna got an opening to ask the question she was here for “You are too kind Miss Samsonova, but I am looking for a friend of mine. I was told she wanted to meet you, a young historian Anastasia Organossova is her name”
Samsonova still smiled “Yes, she was here” Now Anna listened with rapt attention “but she left, about two hours ago, Jelena had to help her: Her car did not start properly” Anna nodded “I know” she smiled “I wonder why she is driving this old junk car still” Samsonova agreed “Jelena solved the problem though – she is a skilled mechanic” Anna sighed “Too bad – but it was worth a try. She got probably lost again, her orientation is terrible!”
10 minutes later Anna was walking down the curved pathway. Jelena Issinbajewa followed her every move till the massive gates had closed behind the Grand Duchesse. Samsonova walked down in the cellar.
Before a massive door she stood. She punched in the entry code. It swung open. From red rimmed eyes Anastasia Organossova looked up at Samsonova. Anastasia had been tied tightly to a massive chair, which was bolted to the floor.
Her lower face was obscured by a wall of translucent tape. The historian´s jaws stood ajar. Her mouth had been packed fully with used underwear – and her own socks. The sitting hogtie was brutal and efficient:
Anastasia´s Arms had been welded together behind the chair´s back at wrists, below and above the elbows her thumbs had been tied together too. More ropes held her on the chair. The historian´s nyloned toes did not scratch the floor:
They were tied to her wrists and thumbs. The tight crotch rope was tied to wrist bonds – so every movement of her wrists made her feel the knotted rope. Anastasia had learned much about crotch ropes in the last two days. This one was tight. Her legs had been tied at the ankles, around the calves, under the knees, above the joint and midthigh.
Coldly Samsonova smiled down at the captive: “You won´t believe, who just visited me” Anastasia just stared back “How could you?” Samsonova gloated “The Grand Duchesse! And she has no idea that you are here – she swallowed every dim witted lie I told her! Can´t you believe it? That arrogant aristocratic bitch thinks herself soo clever!” she gloated.
Anastasia just stared back “Will you tell me what I know?” her captor demanded. Anastasia shook her head “Have it your way then” Samsonova shrugged “I give you some more time to think – and then we will have a talk!” An evil smile crossed the black woman´s face: “I think, we should improve your gag though – I hate screamers!” The historian stared in disbelief at her captor. She found out soon enough what Samsonova meant by improving: First the older woman had tied two more silk scarves over her already well gagged mouth.
Anastasia had watched then as Samsonova had walked to a table with binding materials and returned with a pair of large black panties. She had balled it up and pressed it on her victim´s nose “You like the scent?” Anastasias captor grinned “I masturbated three times on it” Finally she let go, so that the young historian could breathe freely.
But her respite was short lived: Samsonova hooded her victim with the soiled garment, so that its crotch panel rested firmly above Anastasia´s nose. Still the Russian was not finished: She pulled a stocking cap above the brown haired woman´s head “And now the final touch!” the curvaceous black-haired woman grinned diabolically: Soon Anastasia´s already hooded head was mummified in tape.
She heard Samsonova’s voice near her left ear: “I am not entirely heartless and leave you something to help you think!” Anastasia gasped as something was pressed between her bound thighs – and against her crotch: A vibrator! As Samsonova had left, the device sprung into high gear …. That was bad enough already, a cramp was building in her soles … - how should Anna find her. Anastasia was in her own small world of darkness and silence. Tears formed under the hood. Why didn´t she heed Anna´s advice?
Not far from the Samsonova Estate:
Anna parked her car one Kilometre away from the Samsonov Estate. A grim smile cursed her lips “Did the b*tch think she can lie to my face?” She was sure Anastasia was in the Villa. She possessed no car. Anna made a call “Hello, it´s me!”
Chapter 6
“The gods may throw a dice
Their minds as cold as ice”
“The gods may throw a dice
Their minds as cold as ice”
Day 4: Geneva, Swiss, early morning:
Ragna Sigurdsdottir (imagine: Ragga Ragnars “Vikings”) stood in a doorway. From her hiding spot she kept the entrance of the modern apartment block across the other side of the street firmly in sight. If her informations were correct, her target should appear any minute for her morning run.
Ragna herself looked like any other jogger, in her running attire. Only one thing stood out: Her stature. With 6´ 2´´ Ragna resembled the proverbial Valkyrie perfectly. At Valhalla she would have sat at Odin´s table. It was easy to imagine her fighting in the thickest of melees, wielding her sword with skill and precision.
The entrance doors on the other side opened, a tall young woman of lithe built stepped on the street, her long blond hair hidden under a pink woollen cap. Pink seemed to be her favourite colour anyway:
A pink fleece jacket, black leggings with pink stripes and pink running shoes – she made a few stretching moves and started to jog in an even pace. Ragna followed her in a safe distance, but never leaving her out of her sights.
She would shadow her target for the next three days. Then Ragna would strike. She would have wished for more time, but time was of the essence: they had only these three days. What made her task easier: The Islandress had not spotted any personal security.
Ragna accelerated her tempo closing the distance. The target was fit, that was for sure. The blonde followed it through a green park. Later in the day she would pay the apartment of her target a visit ….
Day 4: Saint Petersburg, Anna´s Apartment, around the same time:
Carefully Anna tapped on her stockinged feet through the corridor, her running shoes in her left hand. Gently she pushed the door to the guestroom where Anastasia was sleeping open. The Russian listened to the deep and regular breaths of the young historian and decided to let her sleep. Anastasia could use the rest.
Yesterday and the day before had to be rough on her. Anna had to clear her head though. They had made no progress – and hell knew what torture Chris would have to endure today. A brisk run along the Fontanka Embankment and back would do the trick.
Stealthily Anna tapped to the Entrance door, put her running shoes on and checked her gear for a final time: Her phone her taser gun and a few other things. The Russian closed the door behind her – and made her descent to the street. A short while later Anna stepped onto the street. It was another cold and clear morning. Anna took a deep breath and started running.
One hour later she had reached her starting point again. The Run had cleared her mind, now she was ready for the day! For another foray into the depths of the Archives! Anna was in good spirits – and hungry.
Hopefully Anastasia had prepared breakfast: Hot strong coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon … She typed in the security code to her apartment and pushed the door gently open. The violinist was greeted by silence, not the heavenly smells of strong black coffee, sizzling, crispy bacon.
Anna took off her running shoes and tapped on her stockinged feet into the kitchen: It was empty. Grudgingly the Russian prepared the coffee machine. Caffeine was vital, without it, she would not get through the day.
Anastasia obviously slept soundly still – Anna could hear nothing as she stood before the door of the guestroom. Gently she knocked. Nothing. The Russian knocked again – and opened the door. She stepped into room and found – nothing. The bed was empty. Anna cursed under her breath. Where the hell was Anastasia? Carefully she searched every room. Nothing – one room left, the living room.
The violinist returned to Anastasia´s room. Anna was fuming. The historian would rue this day.
Anna skimmed the room – till her eyes rested on a piece paper on the large wooden table, made from polished Cherrywood. She walked to the table, grabbed the paper – and read:
Dear Anna,
I am sorry but I have to follow a hunch – I think I know now where we find the beginning of the trail which will lead us to the treasure. Don´t worry! Everything will be fine!
Anastasia
Anna read the letter once, read it a second time – first in disbelief, than in anger, her face turned pale and her body tensed “You will be sorry, that is for sure, after I spanked your butt, and chained you to the bed” the Russian fumed “Don´t worry!” Is this bookworm out of her mind?” She threw her arms in the air in exasperation in the air - Anna paced the floor back and forth, muttering under her breath. After a few minutes she calmed down – and began to search Anastasia´s belongings and her room “Of course laptop and phone are missing!” Anna hit the wall with her right fist – and cursed “Ouch!”
What now? The violinist focused: She dialled the historian´s number: the call went straight to voice mail. Anna was just about to abandon the search, when the violinist spotted a post it on the working desk, partially hidden by other papers “A-N!!! Samsonova!!” she read. Anna racked her brain: “Samsonova” did strike a bell, she knew that name from somewhere … and A-N? Suddenly a small smile curled her lips “A-N as in Alexander Newsky” But what did Anastasia mean by that? The Alexander-Newsky-Prospect? Unlikely.
Suddenly she hit herself with her left palm on the forehead hard “You are a complete idiot Anna Romanova!” she chided herself: The Alexander-Newsky-Monastery! That made perfect sense: The famous monastery was closely connected to the House of Romanov since the days of Peter the Great. And Anastasia had mentioned that the Monastery housed an extended Archive, which might be worth a closer looking into ….
Anna made up her mind: Coffee! A shower! A call to Sybil: The hacker had to find out all about Samsonova. And then she would check out the Monastery herself …
Unknown Location, around the same time: Natasha´s bedroom:
Chris awoke from a deep and dreamless sleep abruptly. She kept her eyes closed, listened to the signals her body sent her: She lay on something soft, her body covered by smooth silken sheets. Obviously she wore silken PJ´s: That her wrists and ankles were shackled with the heavily padded manacles again, did not really surprise her, nor that her ankles were chained to the bedframe.
Her body ached still in many places, nothing big, but lots of small bruises and such. The blonde felt surprisingly well rested though. Still tired, but better. Her thoughts wandered back to the late evening: Ivanka and Yelena had indeed helped her with her bathing room routine. The two young maids were very skilled – as Chris had learned already. They had treated her gentle and with respect – and took some liberties with her body. Which the pianist let happen – there was no need to fight it.
In the end that meant, that she found herself afterwards loosely but firmly spread-eagled with silk scarves to Natasha´s bed. Chris had been gagged with two panties. A two times folded silk scarf covered her lower face from nose to chin. The Scarf covered her nose. But that had not been all: Under her nose a wad of gauze had been packed: It had been doused with a substance which Chris was forced to inhale. It made her lightheaded, a bit dizzy – and heightened her arousal. A dark fire was smouldering between her loins.
She had been blindfolded with another scarf. And the maids had applied a crotch scarf too. That one was tied tightly. Tighter than her other bonds.
The blonde did not really fight her bonds, she was simply too tired, she just lay on the soft mattress and enjoyed the rest – at last Chris heard someone singing to herself in Russian in the bathroom – minutes passed. Minutes later she heard soft barefoot footfalls on the carpeted floor. Someone climbed on the mattress between her splayed legs, her body tensed “Shhh” she heard a silken dark voice speaking softly “No need to get anxious Chris I will not harm you – on the contrary.
Natasha´s voice was dark with desire, dark with longing. Chris shuddered as she felt hot warm lips kissing her on the balls of her left foot … she shuddered again as those hot lips placed another kiss next to the other a third one. Soft moist lips closed around her left big toe – and winced: The Russian had bitten her.
The blonde had to giggle though as the hot tongue explored the sensitive skin between the big and the next toe. Slowly, gently. The Russian bade her time, worshipping the toes of her left foot. Each one. Her tongue had caressed each toe of her right foot too. Now and then, seemingly without rhythm Natasha bit her. Not hard, but so that Chris felt it keenly.
But Natasha had not stopped there. Chris shuddered as she felt a soft kiss above her tied left ankle. With utmost care, her captor placed one kiss to the next, slowly, very slowly upwards. Natasha felt the quivering of Chris muscular thigh under her soft caresses.
The blonde groaned softly, she balled her hands to fists, flexed her feet. It was a slow, endless, gentle assault on her already overloaded and tired senses. The Russian caressed every square inch of Chris´ hot skin, stroked her gently kissed her hard on her gagged mouth. Even through the silk she felt the heat of Natasha´s lips.
She could not see it, but at some point Natasha had taken a bottle of oil and poured it on her palms and began to massage, her feet her legs – gently. Chris groaned softly, strained against her bonds “Ouch!” the blonde cursed. Natasha had taken her left nipple between her lips, sucked at it – and bit her, her tongue explored her left breast, glided around her nipple, down, around the base of her breasts:
The Russian turned to her right breast. Chris moaned and strained against her silken restraints “Shhh ….” Natasha whispered “Relax and enjoy” The Russian planted one kiss between her heaving breasts. It felt like fire on Chris´ hot skin. It seemed to burn through the layers of her skin to her core.
Natasha planted one kiss to the next, her hot tongue explored Chris´ navel. Further down south the devilish tongue and lips went … and the blonde did just let it go. Resistance – after all – was futile.
What she not could see? Natasha slipped her violet panties of – and pressed them on Chris´ nose. The blonde struggled. The Russian took the panties away, repeated the procedure. Once. Twice – before she pulled the used garment over the blonde´s head. It´s moist crotch panel rested firmly above Chris´ silk covered flaring nostrils. The pianist found the scent intoxicating “Breath in Chris” Natasha whispered “Just breath – do not fight it!” Chris did breath. Did breath through her silk covered nose and the pair of panties. No, she did not fight it. Her body had taken control.
The blonde felt Natasha fumbling at the crotch scarf – removing it. Chris did not know how many times she had been forced to orgasm this day and in the evening. A jolt of electricity shot through her body as the devilish hot tongue explored her outer Labia, gently and thoroughly. Oh that tongue! The blonde hated herself for it, but it felt so good! She grated her rips, she moaned – and she let go ….. then? Sweet oblivion.
“Morning sleepyhead!” her captor´s way too cheerful voice brought Chris´s back to the present. With a sigh she opened her eyes and looked at a beaming Natasha, already dressed for work, which meant, a black leather suit and knee high high-heeled boots “You looked so innocent when you were sleeping!” the Russian teased her.
Expectantly Chris looked at her “I guess you are not having breakfast with me then – I really looked forward to that!” the blonde´s tone harboured on the fine line between irony and insult.
“No, I won´t!” Natasha returned cheerily “No rest for the wicked you know!” She grew serious “Ivanka and Yelena will take good care of you: They will serve your breakfast and after that you will be transferred to the Spa – you understand that there will be certain security measures in place” The blonde nodded “Yes, because I am such a threat right now. I have no idea where I am, I am barely dressed and shackled hand and foot – so I really pose a threat”
This time Chris did not made any effort to hide the sarcasm “My, my” her captor chuckled “You are really grumpy this morning!” The blonde shook her head “No, not grumpy, I am tired, that´s all – and I do know that I sound like an old Gramophone!”
“Then use this day to rest” Natasha smiled “Enjoy being pampered in the Spa and the afternoon! You will like it! We will see each other in the evening!” turned on her heels and left – Chris looked after her and sighed. Something told her, that she should use this day as best as she could.
She had to conserve her strength and mentally she had to be ready for anything “Even if Anna finds the treasure …” she mused “I doubt that Oblomov will keep his end of the bargain”
Chris had seen the look in his eyes yesterday: The man was a predator, a sadist. So far he had not touched her but he would surely enjoy breaking her. The dinner yesterday evening was just the overture.
And Natasha had made clear where her loyalties lay. In the end she would obey her master, even if she felt attracted to Chris “The sad truth is: I am alone” The arrival of Yelena and Ivanka interrupted these dark thoughts ….
St. Petersburg: Alexander Newsky Monastery around 1000 AM:
Anna entered the Courtyard of the Monastery Complex through the southern Entrance. Several times she had tried to reach Anastasia, but every time the call had gone straight to voice mail. The Russian didn´t like the implications of this silence at all. She crossed the southern courtyard and strode to the entrance in the southern wing. She stepped through the entrance door and followed the signs that lead the way to the Archives.
The violinist passed the entrance and strode to the service point where a blonde young woman in a grey business costume was busy gossiping with someone at the phone – and polishing her red nails. The blonde did not even look up as Anna stood right before the desk.
Anna already fumed, but she kept her temperament in check – for now. The violinist cleared her throat - the blonde looked briefly up, not interrupting her call “Yes?” Anna produced her smartphone and showed the accountant Anastasia´s picture “Did you see this woman today?” She spoke clear and firm.
The blonde barely looked at the picture “No” and returned to her caller “You know Ivan is sooo cute! He made me the sweetest compliments! she cooed “He is …” Whatever he was? The person on the other end would never learn. Anna wrenched the phone out of the blonde´s hand and slammed it on the table.
Aghast the blonde stared up at her, Anna was towering over her, eyes blazing “Do I have your attention now?” she spoke in a dangerous low voice “Who are you!” the receptionist demanded defensively “How do you dare!” The violinist straightened herself to her full height of 186 centimetres“I am Grand Duchesse Anna Alexandra Romanova and you will address me as Your Grace! My family donates a substantial amount of money every year to the Monastery – and I am pretty sure, the Metropolit will not be very pleased if my family stops these donations. So Lady: Get me someone with less beauty and more brains!” The blonde stared at her “Now!” Anna bellowed.
The receptionist looked in disbelief at Anna, before she stammered “Yes your Grace, I will get you Father Ismail at once!” She grabbed the phone and dialled - Anna supressed a smile “I do love custom oriented service!”
Geneva, around the same time:
Ragna followed the target to the university. The young woman was totally oblivious to the fact that she was shadowed “Her bad” Ragna thought. The target was amiably chatting at the phone as she strode across the campus. The Icelandress knew the timetable of her target – Sybil had been most helpful: The target would be attending tutorials and lectures – so she had enough time to check out her apartment.
30 minutes later Ragna stood before an apartment door on the 8th floor. The floor was empty. She was surprised how easy the lock was to pick. She entered the apartment and closed the door behind her.
Quickly she searched the apartment to be sure that nobody would disturb her. From her backpack she produced several items and set to work. As she left the apartment 30 minutes had passed.
Ragna would have wished for more time, but they were on a tight schedule. She had three days only to make all the necessary preparations. It would be a tight fit. But Chris´ life was on the line. A thought crossed her mind:
This evening the target was to go to the opera: Dimitri Shostakovich´s opera Lady Macbeth of Minsk. Ragna decided she would go to the opera too. Who knew? Maybe an opening would present itself to make close contact with the target – the herculean blonde smiled and she had just the idea …
Saint Petersburg: Early Afternoon: Villa of Olga Samsonova around 0200 PM:
Anna stood before the massive front gate of the Samsonova estate. The impressive Villa itself had been built at the end of the 19th century. The Samsonovs had “acquired” it during the fogs of the Revolution – and owned it ever since.
Why was Anna here? Father Ismail had been most helpful. He did not only remember Anastasia, but he could tell Anna what she had been looking for. And that information had energized the dark haired Russian. Could this be the break through? For the first time in these turbulent days she felt hope, hope that she might really find the treasure.
Her enthusiasm had not lasted long though. One of the items Anastasia had researched was gone. Father Ismail had been sure, that it been among the documents the young historian had demanded to see. Anna had a shrewd idea what had happened. Anastasia had simply “borrowed” it.
The violinist had promised the Monastery another sizable donation to keep this incident under wraps. What had intrigued Anna even more: The Samsonovs had always shown a great interest in the Archives of the Monastery – and Father Ismael had told Anna a most intriguing story, this was the reason why she waited now before the Entrance gates of the Samsonov-Estate.
Anna pressed the bell button. Seconds passed “Yes?” a husky alto voice demanded “This is Grand Duchesse Anna Alexandrovna Romanova. I have an appointment with Olga Samsonova” Anna responded “Wait!” the voice told her curtly. Anna shifted impatiently from one feet to the other - eventually almost noiselessly the massive gates swung open “About time” she huffed. The violinist followed the curved, paved pathway upwards with long strides.
At the entrance door a tall, brown haired woman in her forties was awaiting her. She wore her hair in a severe bun and a classic grey business costume and medium heels “I am Jelena Issinbajewa, Personal Secretary of Miss Samsonova, if you would follow me Your Grace!” she addressed Anna sourly “As if I am some pushy saleswoman selling buttons at the door” The dark haired Aristocrat had taken an instant dislike to that Issinbajewa Woman.
She followed Issinbajewa through the imposing entrance hall. They entered another room, which Anna recognized as Samsonova´s private study. Behind a large polished wooden desk sat a black haired woman in her early fifties.
She rose as Issinbajewa entered. Samsonova was tall, and curvaceously build. Her black power suit fit perfectly “My dear Grand Duchesse it is such a pleasure to meet you!” They exchanged pecks on the cheeks – and Anna got a fair whiff of her heavy perfume. Her host was polite enough, but her smile did not reach her eyes – Anna noticed.
“Why don´t you have a seat” she bade Anna graciously to sit “Bring us some tea Jelena please!” Her PA nodded curtly “Of course Madam” Anna and her host engaged in small talk, till tea was served. The violinist had to admit, the tea was excellent “Dear Grand Duchesse” Samsonova smiled “I am a great admirer of your art!
Your last concert at the Bolshoi was fantastic!” Anna returned the smiled politely, personally she considered her performance this evening as good, but not brilliant. Samsonova continued to heap praise on Anna´s play: How well she had played, how brilliant her tone had been, how well she had met the composers intentions.
It costed the violinist much, not to snap “The composer’s intentions?” As if anybody knew those at all … Finally Anna got an opening to ask the question she was here for “You are too kind Miss Samsonova, but I am looking for a friend of mine. I was told she wanted to meet you, a young historian Anastasia Organossova is her name”
Samsonova still smiled “Yes, she was here” Now Anna listened with rapt attention “but she left, about two hours ago, Jelena had to help her: Her car did not start properly” Anna nodded “I know” she smiled “I wonder why she is driving this old junk car still” Samsonova agreed “Jelena solved the problem though – she is a skilled mechanic” Anna sighed “Too bad – but it was worth a try. She got probably lost again, her orientation is terrible!”
10 minutes later Anna was walking down the curved pathway. Jelena Issinbajewa followed her every move till the massive gates had closed behind the Grand Duchesse. Samsonova walked down in the cellar.
Before a massive door she stood. She punched in the entry code. It swung open. From red rimmed eyes Anastasia Organossova looked up at Samsonova. Anastasia had been tied tightly to a massive chair, which was bolted to the floor.
Her lower face was obscured by a wall of translucent tape. The historian´s jaws stood ajar. Her mouth had been packed fully with used underwear – and her own socks. The sitting hogtie was brutal and efficient:
Anastasia´s Arms had been welded together behind the chair´s back at wrists, below and above the elbows her thumbs had been tied together too. More ropes held her on the chair. The historian´s nyloned toes did not scratch the floor:
They were tied to her wrists and thumbs. The tight crotch rope was tied to wrist bonds – so every movement of her wrists made her feel the knotted rope. Anastasia had learned much about crotch ropes in the last two days. This one was tight. Her legs had been tied at the ankles, around the calves, under the knees, above the joint and midthigh.
Coldly Samsonova smiled down at the captive: “You won´t believe, who just visited me” Anastasia just stared back “How could you?” Samsonova gloated “The Grand Duchesse! And she has no idea that you are here – she swallowed every dim witted lie I told her! Can´t you believe it? That arrogant aristocratic bitch thinks herself soo clever!” she gloated.
Anastasia just stared back “Will you tell me what I know?” her captor demanded. Anastasia shook her head “Have it your way then” Samsonova shrugged “I give you some more time to think – and then we will have a talk!” An evil smile crossed the black woman´s face: “I think, we should improve your gag though – I hate screamers!” The historian stared in disbelief at her captor. She found out soon enough what Samsonova meant by improving: First the older woman had tied two more silk scarves over her already well gagged mouth.
Anastasia had watched then as Samsonova had walked to a table with binding materials and returned with a pair of large black panties. She had balled it up and pressed it on her victim´s nose “You like the scent?” Anastasias captor grinned “I masturbated three times on it” Finally she let go, so that the young historian could breathe freely.
But her respite was short lived: Samsonova hooded her victim with the soiled garment, so that its crotch panel rested firmly above Anastasia´s nose. Still the Russian was not finished: She pulled a stocking cap above the brown haired woman´s head “And now the final touch!” the curvaceous black-haired woman grinned diabolically: Soon Anastasia´s already hooded head was mummified in tape.
She heard Samsonova’s voice near her left ear: “I am not entirely heartless and leave you something to help you think!” Anastasia gasped as something was pressed between her bound thighs – and against her crotch: A vibrator! As Samsonova had left, the device sprung into high gear …. That was bad enough already, a cramp was building in her soles … - how should Anna find her. Anastasia was in her own small world of darkness and silence. Tears formed under the hood. Why didn´t she heed Anna´s advice?
Not far from the Samsonova Estate:
Anna parked her car one Kilometre away from the Samsonov Estate. A grim smile cursed her lips “Did the b*tch think she can lie to my face?” She was sure Anastasia was in the Villa. She possessed no car. Anna made a call “Hello, it´s me!”
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
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mrjones2009
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Another great chapter. I knew that they hadn't pulled the wool (or should that be blindfold) over Anna's eyes. I can't want to find out what happens next.
Ragna's role in the plan also interests me
Ragna's role in the plan also interests me
It's not unusual for me to, how shall we put it, almost develop emotional 'feelings' towards some of the characters i create. But it doesn't often happen for those created by others. But, oh, your Natasha! Just goes to show the skill of your writing, Sir.
I feel honoured [mention]LunaDog[/mention] - and I can promise that Natasha has a special surprise for Chris in mind on her Spa Day
[mention]Caesar73[/mention], I am very sure that nasty Natasha has a special surprise for Chris in mind on her Spa Day. Is Chris receiving proof that all torture is not bad?
It does appear that Anastasia is in much over her head. How many times does she have to learn the same lesson. At least we readers can enjoy her being tied up some more.
Great work, as usual.
It does appear that Anastasia is in much over her head. How many times does she have to learn the same lesson. At least we readers can enjoy her being tied up some more.
Great work, as usual.
A 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
Oh well, It does not seem fortune favors Anna and Chris at the present moment. Too many enemies, too few allies, too little time.
Also, it is funny that again a female head captor of Chris develops feelings for her. Let's see how it ends this time...
Also, it is funny that again a female head captor of Chris develops feelings for her. Let's see how it ends this time...
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared April 8
Spy Camp March 19
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared April 8
Spy Camp March 19
All My Stories On This Site
Yes, at the moment the enemy holds most of the Aces. Regarding Chris and Natasha? Let me put it this way: Natasha is no Sieglinde Gablenz .... the next chapters will show that.
Well what can I say, but yet again an amazing chapter, even now, after so many adventures, it still feels like we’re learning more about each and every character. It’s simply fascinating to see where you take things every time, as just when, as a reader I’m thinking one thing you do another
I am honoured by your praise [mention]Bandit666[/mention] - and developing the characters is something I enjoy. We learn much about Anna and Chris in this story - and is a story I like to tell.
[mention]Caesar73[/mention], you are as always both welcome and deserving of my words, and it’s clearly a story you like to tell, while one we all like to read