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The Kitchens, Corporation Safe House, Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 9:50PM
Unaware of the fate that had overtaken their colleagues the remaining members of the Corporate snatch squad waited impatiently in the kitchen.
Anton nursed his injured arm, looked towards the cellar door and frowned wondering where Valeri had got to, the rat faced Russian had been gone for almost fifteen minutes and Alison Michaels could be arriving any moment. Anton took another look at the clock and then started towards the cellar door.....
"It is bad out there, Comrades really bad," Yuri Vasilivich said in English. His hooded eyes looked through the window trying to see through the wall of snow that was falling outside. Periodically he would shake his head and murmur "not good, not good at all."
Anton turned and gave Yuri an irritated look. He had never worked with Vasilivich before but the man's reputation preceded him. It was said that Yuri took Russian fatalism to a new level and that just the drone of his deep laconic voice was enough to inspire some people to suicide. Anton didn't care if the rumors were true or not but Yuri's defeatist tone was starting to get to him. Anton decided that it was best to go and find Valeri now, before he did something Yuri would regret.
"You cannot see nose on face it snows so hard," Yuri continued, "we will be trapped here with girl I can see it. In the morning secret police will dig us out and then sssssluckkkk," he drew his pointed finger dramatically across his throat, "Lubianka for sure."
Anton had heard enough. "I'm going to see what's keeping Valeri," he announced nodding towards the cellar door.
"Tell him we are snowed in," Yuri said forcing a smile onto his thin lips, "tell him we are all doomed. I have no idea how we get the coffin to the station in this."
"On our shoulders if we have to dear boy," said the voice with the English accent. The owner of the voice lay his cards down on the kitchen table. "Gin," he announced quietly with a hint of mock regret. His card partner, a red faced Russian called Viktor Dragamilov snorted and threw his cards on the table. Toby, the Viscount Mountbuffington, smiled at his vanquished opponent and collected his winnings from the table. "Care for another hand dear boy?" he asked, favoring Viktor with a small smile and an upraised eyebrow. "I do believe we have time, all is secure and I'm sure that the weather will delay our quarry a little longer?"
Anton rolled his eyes. To be caught in the same small room as his lordship and the fatalistic Yuri was as close to purgatory as the young German wanted to get. Anton decided that Toby was another good reason to be elsewhere. He took another hobbling step towards the cellar door when suddenly....
Ting...ting.... ting....ting....
All four men looked towards the far wall and the row of little bells used to summon servants to particular rooms in the house. The bell at the end of the row was larger than the others, the small enamel nameplate beneath it carried a word in Cyrillic that only two of them could read but all of them understood, this was the front door bell. As they watched the bell rang again, moving back and forth on its little spiral metal spring as if the person outside was even more desperate to get in. For a second the men just froze, it was Toby who reacted first.
“I do believe you gentlemen have an heiress to abduct,” he said coldly.
Anton cursed. “Everyone in position,” he whispered urgently. “You!” he said pointing at Toby, “answer the door.”
The Englishman wrinkled his nose. “I could never.......”
“We don’t have time to argue, you are the only one dressed for the role. Go now!” Anton snapped. Toby stood, gave Anton a disgusted look, and then followed the others out of the kitchen. Anton hobbled the short distance to the cellar door and opened it, preparing to call down to Valeri. Suddenly, he found himself facing the last person in the world he had expected to see alive.
“Bonjour,” Marie said sweetly as she drove the knife deep into Anton’s belly. The man’s eyes widened as the French girl rotated the blade then pulled up, slicing through his insides.
“Whoops,” she said smiling, “what a careless little whore I am. I didn't mean to do that.” Smiling she slashed the blade across his throat. Anton gargled and fell to his knees choking on his own blood. “That was what I meant to do,” Marie said brightly.
Stepping over the dying man she slipped like a ghost up the kitchen stairs.
Yuri took the drawing room while Viktor waited patiently in the sitting room. The location of the doors left them perfectly positioned either side of the hallway and easily able to ambush anyone that came in though the front door. None of this would be necessary if Alison came alone, one man could easily overpower her, but there had been a risk with Peter’s plan, the possibility that the girl might bring someone else, either a doctor or a servant, to help with Leona. Nervously the men waited while Toby adjusted his tie and stepped towards the door.
It was Yuri who was first to sense that something was wrong. He was waiting by his door, mask in place, gun ready when he heard a light footstep behind him. Acting on instinct he spun around, flailing hand catching Leona’s gun sending it flying from her grasp. Using her surprise he pushed her backwards sending her staggering across the room. Yuri raised his weapon and pointed it at the blonde German girl as she struggled to her feet. He was unsure what to do next. He couldn’t fire, if he did he would scare their victim away. On the other hand he had neither the time nor equipment to bind Miss Graaf. While he was considering what to do the girl raised one of her gloved hands. Yuri smiled, believing that she was putting her hands up. He was about to order her to be quiet when her hand stopped, the open palm level with his chest. Yuri frowned, the hand was empty and she was too far away to hit him. What was she doing? As if to answer that question the blonde’s lips twisted into a dark smile.
“Time to die.......” Leona said.
A ripple of primordial energy cracked between the Gauntlet’s spayed fingers and Leona let her imagination run wild.
Back in the hallway Toby opened the front door and looked out. A dark figure waited patiently outside, cloak flapping in the wind, the leather-covered face looking up at the startled Englishman, dark eyes sparking with cruel amusement.
“Ah Viscount Mountbuffington,” the figure said in perfect English, “so good to meet you at last.” Toby, realizing for the first time that he was without a gun, started to back away. As the fear gripped him he scrambled to close the door.... An unexpected blow knocked him off his feet and sent him sprawling into the hallway.
Momentarily stunned the horrified Englishman realized that leatherface had been nowhere near the door when the invisible force had thrown it open.
At the sound of the door crashing open Viktor jumped out into the corridor with his gun ready. Toby screamed at him to fire but as he scrambled to his feet a startled grunt came from behind him. Turning Toby found Viktor falling to his knees while a half naked, brown haired girl tried desperately to pull a large knife from the dying man’s back.
“Pardon Monsieur,” Marie said, giving the startled lord a pouty smile, “my knife it is stuck and I am afraid I will be a little delayed getting to you.” She placed one dainty foot against Viktor’s back and pulled again. This time the blade slid from Viktor’s body and the man’s lifeless body fell to the floor. Marie smiled, wickedly. “See that is better non?” Raising the knife above her head she took a step forward.
Panicked, Mountbuffington turned towards the front door just in time to see the figure in black striding purposefully into the house. Terrified, he looked back to see the French girl step over Viktor’s lifeless body. Desperate and with nowhere else to run the Englishman threw himself into the drawing room hoping to put a closed door and an armed man between himself and the horror that pursued him.
Toby never made it, crashing through the drawing room door he slipped and fell in the large pool of blood that was covering the wooden floor. Desperately he tried to scramble to his feet. Looking up he froze at the horrific sight before him.
Leona smiled. Her body, the kinky little outfit she was wearing and most of the room was covered in a fine coating of Yuri’s blood. Dismembered parts of the man where strune across the furnishings and scattered on the floor. Yuri’s blackened skull, with the upper part of his spinal column still attached, was being held in Leona’s gloved hand. Still a little stunned herself Leona smiled down at her unexpected guest and held out the skull.
Leona turned her head to one side and looked down at the panicked Englishman. “Oh dear, I think I broke him,” she said, her bemused voice as dark as midnight. A moment later the dark figure in leather strode into the room. Toby, his mind overloaded, rolled himself into a fetal ball on the floor. As Aleksei stepped towards him Toby shuffled sideways into the pool of drying blood by the side of the door and wept.
Leona offered her dark Master the skull.
“A trophy my Master,” she said, “ from our first hunt on a new world.”
“Not this time,” he said, amused, “but don’t worry my slave, we will have plenty of other opportunities. Aleksei looked down at the sobbing Toby. “A pity. It appears his mind has broken,” he said regretfully, “he cannot be the messenger we were hoping for.”
“No my Master,” Leona said, her voice now back to normal. Reaching down she took the poker from the fireplace. Holding it in her gloved hand she concentrated her will, smiling as the tip of the poker glowed white hot under the influence of the Gauntlet. “However,” she added, “there is more than one way for him to deliver our message.”
Aleksei gave an approving nod. “Finish with him then join us upstairs my pet,” he said, his voice back to being human, “there are things we need to do.”
The Intercontinental Hotel , Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 10:00PM
"Comfy?" Alison asked, favoring her captives with a fake look of concern. Sophie and Olga couldn't answer of course, not with their mouths so well packed. Allison had fed watered and toileted them individually, binding them with sash cords from the windows and gagging them tightly with part of her huge collection of scarves. Now they lay facing each other on the bed, legs pulled back and tied to their wrists in strict hogties.
"Umm," Sophie moaned, her packed mouth allowing only weak sounds. She looked at Olga and wiggled her head slightly. The Russian girl gave the captive maid a wide eyed look and strained against her bonds. Neither was suppressed to find that there was no give. The girls were helpless until Alison decided otherwise.
Their captor smiled. "Our Master will arrive soon," she said, her eyes sparkling with a new fanaticism, "and then you will be given the honor of serving him."
The two captives looked at each other wide eyed. They had no idea just who this "Master" was but they knew that they didn't want the "honor" of service.
Alison smiled and slid her naked body onto the bed between the two bound women. She put her arms around them, drawing their naked tied bodies against her, her hands curved round, each finding a bound breast and an erect nipple to toy with. As she started to roll the nipples her legs started to rub the thighs of her victims, then she moved upwards, stroking the women's freshly shaved pubic mounds with her knees.
As Alison's teasing increased the grunts of despair and disapproval rapidly became moans of forced pleasure. Alison settled back surrounded by captive womanhood, enjoying their writhing bodies as they slid against her.
"We'll have so much fun," she said dreamily, "we will be sisters and serve HIM together." She turned first one way and then the other smiling at the two gagged faces with their looks of helpless lust.
"Won't we have fun?" she asked.
Of course the girls said nothing.....
Master Bedroom, Corporation Safe House, Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 9:51PM
Ariadne was bored, cold and very, very hungry.
Not a good combination in a giant hunting spider.
Impatient she drummed two of her hind legs against Peter's naked chest, amusing herself with his little noises of distress. She could tell that the helpless ape didn't like her presence on his stomach but at the moment there was little he could do about it. Spiders are by nature an industrious species and Ariadne had filled the dead time with make work, most of which involved binding Peter to the bed with her strong, sticky silk webbing.
Ariadne's stomach growled loudly and she blushed green with embarrassment. She should have eaten before they left the Master's nest, she had even put two paralyzed sewer rats to one side as an evening snack, but in the excitement of the imminent hunt it had slipped her mind. Ariadne sighed, the rats would probably be dead by the time she got home. She drummed her back legs in frustration again.
She hated it when her food got cold.
Bored Ariadne scanned the room. Over by the couch Gerber's breathing was getting more labored. The spider turned her head towards the paralyzed man. If the Master wanted this one alive he had better hurry. Her venom had proved very effective on the local amphibian's and reptiles, once paralyzed they normally stayed alive for a few days, mammal's though were different and it seemed that over time their breathing cycle broke down and they suffocated.
Ariadne gave the human she was sitting on a cursory glance. After many years on Earth she found that she quite liked humans -- of course they were so large that she could never hope to eat a whole one. However, in a universe full of big dumb apes at least these apes were quite pleasant. The male that her new nestmate had snared seemed like excellent breeding material, she decided, perhaps now would be the time to teach her new human sister about the importance of the courting ritual?
From what she's seen of it so far human courting seemed to involve one sex or the other attacking and completely immobilizing the other with artificial webbing. While Ariadne didn't begrudge the apes their fun it did seem awfully silly and inefficient. The Master must have thought so too, using her implant Ariadne had scanned the Master's cultural database for Earth and the odd binding ritual wasn't even mentioned. The confused spider could only conclude that the Master too thought the binding practice too silly for inclusion.
Of course human's and spiders were very different in the way they mated, but it seemed to Ariadne that the spider way was far more sensible. In spider mating the male would always bring the female a gift, usually a nicely wrapped and paralyzed bug for her to snack on while he sang a ballad of his deeds and her beauty. If his tale was good then she should allow him to couple with her. Afterwards he would have to compose a song to her beauty if he wanted to escape unmolested. If his song was not good enough then it was customary for the female to eat him. The Master had said that the ritual had helped her species become intelligent since only the most intelligent males survived to mate with more than one female.
Ariadne wasn't sure about that but she felt sure she could sell Leona on the superiority of spider courtship. After all, not only was it crushingly romantic (if you where a spider) it also had the advantage for the female that even a disappointing date ended with a good meal.
Just then Peter made a loud grunting sound and wiggled his abdomen. Ariadne gave him a quizzical look. Did he really think he could scare her off like that? Apparently so, it seemed that Peter was equating Ariadne's small head with a small brain and a small brain with low intelligence. Ariadne had used the Master's database to learn more about herself and her kind, she knew that her species had six times the neural density of a human.
Dispite her small size Ariadne had almost double Peter's brainpower.
Not all that power was directed to problem solving though, on Ariadne's planet psionic ability had evolved early and a psionic war between hunter and prey had accelerated that evolution over the last twenty million years. Idly Ariadne drove a mental probe deep into Peter's soft and unprotected mind. She started to peel away the layers of his consciousness like an onion. Occasionally she met with a little resistance but that soon faded. It became clear that as a species these apes had enormous untapped psionic potential. However, the talent had been unused and had withered away. Ariadne probed a little longer and then discovered the area she had been looking for.
The center of Peter’s perceptions was open to her. She drove the probe in deeper, rapidly sorting the few things she would need to bend his world to her will. Satisfied that she had what she needed she tore his world asunder.
Peter arched against the bonds, biting down on the gag. The headache had been so intense, almost as if his head was exploding. Moaning he opened his eyes.
What the...?
The bedroom was gone, and instead Peter found himself secured against the wall of a cave. The cave was dark and dank, the smell of death and decay all round him. As his eyes became accustomed to the gloom a grizzly sight confronted him. The cave was full of bodies, some suspended by webs from the ceiling, some stuck firmly to the walls. Most where dead, their bodies eaten and decayed, some of the skeletons where only held together by the webs that had bound them in life. There were spiders crawling all over the decaying corpses. Small spiders just millimeters across picked their way though the bones while their larger brethren, some as large as dinner plates, fed on the white bloated corpses of the recently dead. In places the density of the insects was so great that small spiders where crawling on the bodies of larger ones. Peter cringed as he felt a thousand little legs scuttling across his body. He shook his head to one side and saw....
Anna was naked, her body glued to the wall opposite by thick filaments of sticky web that passed across her torso and limbs. Her eyes were wide and panicked above a blob of webbing that sealed her little mouth closed. As Peter watched horrified two small spiders attacked the woman's erect nipples, their wide jaws chewing on the flesh, teasing her helpless body. A pair of slightly larger spiders appeared, one running up each of her spayed legs. When they reached the apex of her thighs the spider on the right paused, gripping the girl's pussy lips with it's mandibles and pulling them to one side. Its companion didn't hesitate, sliding in through the opening the other spider had created. As Anna arched her back and screamed into the gag the second spider fought its way inside her. Finally its rear legs disappeared inside and Anna started to buck against the webbing, fighting and moaning as her skin flushed with horror and arousal. The spider that had remained outside had moved her clit hood back with one of its legs and was using its mouth on her erect bud. The girl writhed and moaned, looking at Peter with wide begging eyes as the exquisite torture continued. Her hips quaked against the bonds, a steady trickle of juices flowed down her thighs as she arched and bucked. Some smaller spiders crawled up the girl's bound legs and clustered round her thighs lapping up the girl's spilt juices as the bug's combined attentions forced the helpless Anna into orgasm after orgasm.
"I see my babies are having fun." The voice was rich and vibrant and very, very female. Peter somehow dragged his eyes from Anna's ravishment and turned in the direction of the sound.
The woman was tall and shapely with ivory skin and midnight black hair. The hair had been pulled back into a sever bun and held in place by two chopsticks, her body has been squeezed into a black leather sleath dress that clung to her curves from her breast to just beneath her knees. Here a small decorative section extended down to her calves, in the shape of a decorative spiders web design in leather and lace.
As the woman stepped closer Peter could make out more detail. Silver threads decorated the sheer leather, a web design around her breasts and a chain of interlocked spiders around the top of her full length black leather gloves. Peter could now she the details of her face, the blood red babydoll lips, thin nose and the curve of her plucked eyebrows. It was her eyes that fascinated him though. They were a deep sea green, the iris a vertical slit like the eyes of a cat.
Ariadne grinned revealing her pearl white teeth and her two enlarged canines. Laughing at Peter's reaction of horror she ran a dexterous black tongue over her exposed fangs.
"My, my," She laughed as she looked down at his erect cock, "what a confused creature you are, fear and arousal at the same time."
She smiled a wicked smile. "My children hunger," she said, gloved hand sweeping over the scene with its hundreds of writhing insects. "I have decided to give them one of you and to let the other go. Now the only question is which should live and which should die. I wish that I could offer the loser a painless death but as you can see my children prefer live food and being eaten alive is extremely unpleasant."
Reaching up she tore the webbing from Anna's mouth. "What do you say," she asked the helpless blonde, "who should live and who should die?"
Anna moaned as the insect's stimulation increased. She orgasmed again then glanced over at Peter with the same look of love she had given him in the hotel in Berlin so long ago.
"P....please miss," Anna stammered, "l..let Erik go I ..beg you."
Ariadne looked at Peter and licked her fangs. "You understand that you will be eaten? That your body will be dissolved and consumed from within? It could take hours for you to die, hours of agony?"
Anna shivered with fear and arousal, fat tears streaming down her face. She sniffed. "Y...yes miss. I..I understand but I love him you see. I..... I wouldn't want to live without him even if you did let me go. If I can buy his life with mine..." she started to cry, harsh sobs racking her bound body.
Ariadne nodded and a large spider scuttled over Anna's face. As Peter watched horrified it began to sew the helpless girl's lips together with fine filaments of web. In moments Anna was silenced again, her mouth sealed so tightly that only the barest of whimpers escaped.
Ariadne slinked towards the helpless Peter. As she approached his naked body responded despite his horror and revulsion. Soon he was trembling, quaking with fear and a strange intense arousal. She sensed this, smiling as she ran a gloved hand across his naked chest. Peter whimpered and looked at her with wide, begging eyes. Ariadne laughed coldly then reached up to pull the silk gag from his mouth.
"And what is your choice?" she purred, her gloved hands playing down towards his erect and vulnerable cock.
Peter looked over at Anna and swallowed. She was beautiful, just as he remembered her. The elements of her bondage though disturbing where an intense turn on for him, he could imagine walking over to her, impaling her helpless body on his cock, claiming her. Closing his eyes he swallowed then looked back at Anna and her wide, begging blue eyes. Silenced, she looked back, eyes asking what her silk gagged mouth could not. She had been his love, the girl Erik had dreamed of spending eternity with.
Peter licked his lips. "Take her," he said nodding towards the startled Anna, "you heard her, she would rather die than live without me. She volunteered..." Anna looked down and sobbed, nodding she closed her eyes, awaiting her fate.
Peter turned his head towards the spider woman but Ariadne had already turned away. The girl Anna had been the only other person in Peter’s memory that he had ever seemed to care for. Ariadne had tested his love and found it wanting. Regretfully she raised a hand and gave a signal.
Almost at once countless tiny insects swarmed over Peter’s body, legs scratching at his skin even as their tiny mandibles tore into his flesh. Peter opened his mouth to scream and they pored inside, tearing at his tongue, at the soft flesh of his throat, eating him alive. As the pain increased, Peter's mind descended into madness. Thankfully the inky blackness of unconsciousness claimed him.
Master Bedroom, Corporation Safe House, Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 10:02PM
"How are you my little slave?" Aleksei asked. Ariadne scuttled around so that she could face her beloved Master. Aleksei stood in the doorway next to a small, dark haired human female whose body seemed to be covered with silver cobwebs.
"I am happy to be of service as always my Master," Ariadne whispered reverentially through the link.
"Good, good," Aleksei said looking at the unconscious Peter. "Did you discover what you wanted to know?" he asked lightly.
Ariadne nodded. "Yes my Master," she said turning and looking at Peter, "This human has no redeeming qualities at all. He does not feel love or true remorse, he is unwilling to sacrifice himself for another." She looked at Peter's quaking body. "My people have a saying," she said sadly, "he walks with us but he is dead inside."
Aleksei nodded. "Continue to guard him my pet. I have something to attend to."
Reaching up Aleksei removed the leather hood. The result was only a marginal improvement. Though he did look a little more human, the limp white flesh of his face had a disturbing quality. Silently Aleksei walked to the couch. Pausing, he hauled up the paralyzed Gerber. "Come to me girl," he ordered. Marie, who was looking fascinated at Ariadne looked his way and then trotted obediently forward.
"Sit on my knee girl."
Marie complied, her near naked ass resting on the smooth, cold leather of his pants.
Aleksei frowned as he stroked the girl's tortured breasts, the scars that laced her pale flesh where deep and clearly visible. Frowning he examined her nipples. They seemed to have been clamped, pierced and burnt until they were just a mass of reddened scar tissue. Gently, he brought his gloved hand to a nipple and stroked it.
"Do you feel anything my slave?" he asked, his voice full of a gentle concern.
Sobbing, Marie shook her bowed head. "No Master. This slave has felt nothing for many years."
He nodded, smiled and then......
It was the tingle Marie noticed first. It seemed to engulf her entire breast, ten thousand pins and needles played across the inside and outside of her tortured tit. There was pain too, an odd pain that was intense and oddly exquisite at the same time. Biting her lip she arched her back, riding the sensation until suddenly it ceased.
"You may look now," he said.
Blinking and confused Marie looked down. The right tit was the same as it had been for years; covered by the deep welts and horrid scars of the tortured slave. She turned her head and looked at the left tit.... Eyes wide in amazement she stroked her left breast, the skin was smooth and unblemished, as soft to her touch as baby skin, the nipple was small but perfect. As her fingers brushed over the sensitive bud she felt the exquisite sensation of an erect nipple. She played with it for a moment as her body rediscovered what it was to have sensitive nipples. She looked up into his black and gold eyes, wanting to ask him how but afraid that if she did she would somehow break the spell.
"Ready for the other," he asked. Marie nodded silently, arching her back and biting down as the tingle claimed her right breast. Oddly the pain was easier to take this time. Soon it was over and she looked down at her perfect breasts for the first time in ten long years.
Aleksei ran his gloved fingers over her shaved and scared cunt. "Now this," he said gently.
"P....please gag me Master," Marie begged. She looked down and flushed, hardly believing that she genuinely wanted a man to gag her. She knew however just how badly damaged her tortured sex was and that she would not be able to bear the pain in silence.
Aleksei nodded, reaching down to pick up the scarf and packing that had formed Leona's gag. Gently, he packed Marie’s mouth and then turned his attention to the girl's ruined pussy. Marie bit down and screamed into the gag as the tingling throbbing pain went on an on. Finally she could bare no more and blackness swallowed her.
--------
Central Station, Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 10:05PM
Dimitri Casparov looked down from the iron footbridge and checked the lines for the tenth time that night. Once again he found the lines clear, the snow though falling as heavily as it was elsewhere did not seem to want to settle on the tracks. Dimitri took of his cap and smoothed his thinning gray hair. In almost forty years on the railroads he had never seen weather like this. It was as if the very elements had some evil agenda of their own.
Putting his cap back on Dimitri wondered towards the far end of the footbridge, heading down onto the platform before making his way deeper into the station. It was a little warmer here and the floor was less slippery. Thankful to be back under the protection of the great glass roof Dimitri made his way down platform twenty two. The light was still on in the small brick built waiting room about halfway down the platform and the sound of singing made its way though the closed door. Dimitri checked his watch. The Leningrad train had left over an hour ago and the worsening conditions meant that there would be no others until morning. The stranded passengers had stayed in the waiting room unable or unwilling to go anywhere else. The Station Master hurried to the door, pausing outside to dust the snow from his shoulders and to adjust his cap so that the hammer and sickle badge was more visible.
Taking a deep breath Dimitri opened the door. As expected most of the passengers in the cramped room were sailors on their way back to port. To a man they were drunk, a condition not improved by the bottles of cheap vodka being passed from hand to hand. The men were singing an old Ukrainian folk song accompanied by two sailors who were cranking out the melody on a penny whistle and a small accordion.
"Comrades!" Dimitri called. Getting no answer he shouted louder. "Comrades, your attention please!" The music stopped, all eyes turning his way. Dimitri cleared his throat. "Comrades, due to the shortage of fuel we are closing this waiting room and moving everyone to the main building."
There were a few grumbles from some of the men, Dimitri held his hands up again. "The situation is this," he said, "we only have enough coal to keep one fire burning through the night, for your comfort comrades we would prefer that you move to the waiting room that has that fire. As you know it is bitterly cold tonight and this room will be very uncomfortable once the fire burns down."
There were still a lot of grumbles but Dimitri had an ace left to play. "Comrades, those of us in the Railway Workers Soviet understand the sacrifices of our brave sailors, we have provided some hot soup for you in the main building." He paused. “We also have need of your help,” he added, “small jobs to help your Comrades though this crisis. Any man that agrees to help will get double rations and a shot or two of vodka to keep out the cold.”
That seemed to decide things, the sailors cheered, packing away the instruments and the vodka into kit bags and shuffling towards the door. Dimitri turned and watched them go, giving each an encouraging word as they passed him. As the last sailor headed towards the door a timid female voice spoke.
"P...please sir, c..could my mother have a bowl of that soup?"
Dimitri turned. In the far corner of the waiting room a small group of women sat huddled together for warmth. The two younger women where in their early twenties, fair with blue eyes and delicate features. One look told Dimitri that they were sisters and their presence explained the cluster of young sailors he had seen in that corner earlier. Both girls were dressed in threadbare peasant clothes which were completely inadequate for the bitter weather. In fact their clothes were so thin that even in the warm waiting room they were shivering. Dimitri could see from the grayness of their cheeks and the bags under their eyes the telltale signs of malnutrition. The older woman who sat with them seemed even further gone, a bag of bones with graying hair and black rings around her eyes. Again the family resemblance was strong and Dimitri decided that this must be the mother.
"Do you have tickets?" he asked suspiciously. A lot of homeless people tried to sleep in his warm station and much as he felt sympathy for them Dimitri was under strict orders to move them on.
"Oh yes," the older of the two girls said holding up five cardboard tickets. Dimitri took the tickets and checked them. Frowning he checked again. Despite appearances the family has five valid tickets on the Leningrad Express.
"There was a cancellation, I’m afraid you missed the last train tonight Comrade," he said a little more kindly.
The blonde girl nodded. "Yes sir," she said, "we are taking a dead relative home for burial but his hearse was delayed, my father and sister are trying to find out what happened to it."
"The weather I expect," Dimitri said, his voice softening a little more. He looked the two girls over. They seemed very weak but he was sure that they could be of some help with the Commissar’s train. "It is highly unusual,” Dimitri said, rubbing his chin as if he were trying to make up his mind, “but if you were willing to do a little job for me I think that we could find you ladies some soup.”
The two girls smiled and even the mother managed a small grin. Hurriedly the young women collected the family's scant possessions and helped their mother to her feet. "Here," Dimitri said, offering the older woman his arm, "allow me to help you." Olga's mother gratefully accepted the help. Dimitri lead the way guiding the older woman from the room while her daughters and baggage following on behind.
"Ilyana," Mrs Cromencov croaked, "after the soup you must go find your father, tell him where we have moved to."
The older of the two girls bowed her head reverently. "Yes Mother," she said.
As the small group made its way slowly towards the central concourse Mrs Cromencov scanned the waiting passengers. "I wonder where that lazy Olga is," she grumbled, "knowing that girl she is probably lying down somewhere."
The daughters looked at each other but said nothing. Mother was always hardest on the youngest sister even though Olga was as hard working as the others. Dragging their bags behind them the small group headed towards the central waiting room and the promise of a hot meal.
Master Bedroom Corporation Safe House, Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 10:30PM
Leona looked down at the sleeping Marie.
"Master," she breathed, "she's beautiful."
Aleksei had done more than just repair Marie's torture damage, he had given the young slave the past ten years of life back. Gone was the tired, abused thirty year old that Leona had seen earlier and in her place was a strong and healthy girl of around Leona's own age. The girl's body was fit and exquisitely sculptured. Her skin shone with a new vitality as did her long dark hair. She seemed taller too, Leona thought, all in all the new Marie was one of the most delicious and perfect females the young German girl had ever seen.
"Do you think she'll like it," Aleksei asked. He was sitting in the chair Leona had been bound to with the desiccated body of Gerber at his feet. Leona looked down at the withered husk and gave an involuntary shiver. The body was shriveled and dry like a thousand year old mummy. It was hard to imagine that this man had been alive only an hour before.
Through the implant Leona's dark Master sensed her unspoken question. "Energy cannot be created or destroyed little one," he said, "a law of creation so fundamental that even we cannot disobey it. The life energy to repair your damaged sister and to give her the years of life that had been stolen from her had to come from somewhere. Mr. Gerber here paid that price and his very soul was consumed to give her life."
Leona shivered and watched silently as a moment later Marie moaned and started to come around.
Leona smiled down at her new sister. Marie initially seemed confused, then her hands flew down to her breasts reassuring herself that the miracle was indeed real. Next a hand continued down to her shaved sex. Trembling, she parted the folds of her pussy, the tip of one finger probing and discovering smooth healthy flesh rather than the scar tissue she had known for so long. When her fingertip touched the warm pink bud of her restored clit she came immediately, moaning and writhing as the orgasm claimed her. Trembling she stood and staggered to the wardrobe. Opening it she looked at the mirror that hung on the back of the door. What she saw made her cry.
"Does it not please you slave?" Aleksei asked, a little confused by her reaction.
Marie smiled. "Oh..oh yes Master, very much so." She brought her hands to the smooth skin of her face. She looked nineteen again, like the fresh faced young girl who had set out from Paris all those years ago. She felt young as well, her body strong and vibrant.
"Come to me girl," Aleksei ordered.
Head bowed Marie started over, walking the slow, sexy, submissive walk that the Corporation had beaten into her. When she reached him she sank smoothly to her knees, breasts thrust out, legs parted to show her new damp pussy. Once, long ago, she had told the slavers that she would never willingly kneel or call a man "Master." They had laughed and locked her in a steel footlocker until her will was broken. From that time on she had lived like an animal, her disgust and shame losing the battle with the terror of what they would do to her if she disobeyed. In all her years of slavery she had never once said the word Master and truly meant it.
Until now.
"What is thy bidding my Master?" she breathed, her body unexpectedly sensitized by his dark presence. He was her Master now not just by right of conquest but by Marie's own will. Of all the men she had ever known only he had ever shown her any kindness. She would happily kill or die for him.
"Hold up your hands little one," Aleksei prompted. With head bowed Marie raised her hands upwards with palms open and ready. A moment later he pressed something cold and hard into her hands and gently closed her fingers around it.
"Go my child," Aleksei said, the darkness returning to his voice, "take the revenge I promised you."
Marie blinked, hardly knowing what to say. She nodded, rose smoothly to her feet, bowed to her Master, then turned and walking towards the bed.
Peter was waking from his nightmare. Terrified and confused he tugged ineffectively against the ropes and webbing that bound him. He looked up as he felt Marie's weight on the bed.
"Allo Peter," Marie said sweetly. She smiled at the man's shocked and bewildered look.
"Oui Peter," she said as she took his limp cock in her hand, "my new Master has given me back the years you stole from me." She smiled and started to gently massage his sex. "You did not expect to be in such a position did you Peter?" she said as she tugged on the webbing with her free hand. She gave him a cute grin. "What is it they say?” She thought a moment then smiled. “Oui!” she said, the delight evident on her face, “The tables they have been turned nes pa?"
"Ummmmmm!" Peter moaned, he looked up, begging, then looked over at the cords and webs that tied him to the bed.
Marie ignored him and instead bent down, her soft mouth wrapping itself around his cock. She slurped twice, using suction and gentle tongue movements to tease him closer and closer to full erection. A second later she straightened, her hand still playing up and down his manhood. She turned her head to one side and gave him a curious look.
"Remember Peter? Ow’you said you expected better next time? Does this meet your expectation?" she turned her head on one side and blinked innocently. The helpless man moaned.
Smiling, Marie bent down and licked his cock like a lollipop, her tongue twirling around the head at the end of each lingering stroke. "You took my virginity Peter," she said conversationally as she kissed her way up his throbbing shaft, "do you remember that? You lured me from my mistress' side telling me that I must ‘elp you with our escape. Then your men tied me Peter, spread me like you are now. You stuffed my mouth, cut my clothes from me despite my begging. Then you took me. You were my first Peter, you betrayed me, stole my innocence from me. Remember how I fought Peter? Remember how I begged you? How you delighted in telling me that you would sell me as a whore?"
She sucked again, keeping him erect and ready, hand stroking his balls.
"Now I will return the favor Peter," she said between licks, "I'll tell you what will happen to you now. I plan to cut out your heart Peter, just as I felt you have done to me a thousand times.” Her eyes sparkled, “and then I will offer it to my new Master."
Peter squealed, eyes wide, begging. Marie sucked deep on his throbbing erection. "But first I intend to rape you Peter," she said lightly, "I do not believe you could feel the pain as I did but I can at least make sure you don't enjoy the experience." She took the knife from the bed and ran the tip of the blade along his cock, letting him feel the cold steel. "You will die when you cum Peter," Marie said smiling brightly, "when I feel you twitch inside me I will take your ‘eart. If by some chance you don't orgasm I will let you go free." She smiled at the look of hope in his eyes. "Do not be so hopeful Peter," said as she massaged his cock again, " you will not be able to resist, I am very good at pleasuring men..... you ensured I was very well trained."
Peter squealed as she sucked on him again. Then she straddled him, feeding his erection into her rebuilt sex, thrilling at the sensation and the tightness of her new pussy. She thrust down, feeling the power of her situation.
Peter's look of horror increased as she rode him harder. She could feel him try to shift his weight, trying to deny her, but his helpless bound position made it as impossible for him as it had been for Marie all those years before. As she felt his cock start to twitch she raised the knife above her head, holding it in both hands ready to drive it deep into his chest. Peter, eyes wide, shook his head, a moaning "no, no" coming from behind the gag as she forced him closer to the edge. Her new pussy clamped down hard, pumping and milking him as he bucked beneath her. Peter screamed as he felt his balls boil over. At that moment her orgasm hit hard and fast, ten long years of denied sexual pleasure boiling up in one explosion of sensation. Gasping and squealing Marie drove the knife downwards into Peter's chest.
Covered in sexual juices and Peter's blood Marie knelt naked at Aleksei’s feet. Her legs were parted, her head bowed and her hands offered upwards as she had been taught. There on her upturned palms lay Peter's heart, still trembling from post mortem nervous spasms. Back on the bed Peter's corpse continued to gaze at the ceiling with a look of pain and horror on it's wide sightless eyes.
"For you my Master," Marie said reverentially.
Aleksei smiled. "A suitable trophy for our first hunt together." He looked at the shivering girl. "What is your name little one?" he asked even though he knew the answer.
"M...Marie my Lord," she said, trembling.
"Such a name is unsuitable for one of your spirit," he said grandly. For a moment his dark eyes were clouded with grief. "I will call you Uni,” he said at last, “it was the name of my fallen child and it means "fierce one" in my language."
The girl took a deep panting breath. "Thank you Master," Uni said happily, “I will try to bare it with honor.” Bending down, Uni kissed his boots.
Outside the Corporation Safe House, Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 10:50PM
Karl felt the heat first washing over his body in fierce waves. Groaning he sighed relieved that the coldness was gone. Temporarily confused he tried to open his eyes.... and saw nothing. Suddenly the horror of his situation came to him snapping him fully awake. Staggering, he stood on the melting snow. He could hear the panicked whiney of horses, hear the crackle of a fire, feel the heat, smell the smoke. On instinct he struggled to his feet and blindly stepped backwards only to discover that the heat behind him increased. Unable to see it took his horrified mind several moments to make sense of this. There were two separate fires, one in front and one behind him. There seemed to be an area to his left that seemed cooler, the slush and melting snow at his feet convincing him that he was still outside.
Desperate he scrambled in the direction of the cool zone away from the fire, his hands held out in front of him as sobbing he stumbled on.
“Hello? Hello?”
There was a voice ahead of him crying with relief Karl croaked out an answer. “Here,” he gasped, “over here!”
There came the sound of splashing footfalls and then just as suddenly there were hands on his shoulders.
“K...Karl? What happened?” there was a pause and then the speaker suddenly whimpered. “Oh my God Karl.... You... You’re blind.”
It was a Russian voice though it was speaking German. It took Karl’s panic filled mind a moment to recognize it.
“Serge,” Karl said, “Serge, is that you?” Serge had been the second lookout they had posted that night the one that should have been guarding the alleyway with Andreas. “A..Andreas is dead, where were you?”
“No time,” Serge said, “the house is on fire, the stables too, come with me we need to hitch the horses.” The Russian placed Karl’s hands on his shoulders leading him back towards the heat and the sound of panicked animals. Karl shuffled behind, remembering the lines of gas blinded soldiers he had once passed on his way to the front.
Soon Karl sensed the presence of a panicked horse nearby. Serge pressed a leather strap into one of his hands, guiding the other to the cold metal of a buckle. “Tighten this now,” the Russian said kindly. “Be quick though, we have to get the cart through the alley before that part of the house catches fire.”
Blindly, Karl did as he was told. “Where were you?” he asked again as his fingers fumbled the strap closed.
“Valeri sent me to the main street with young Gregor,” Serge said as he helped the blind man up into the cart. “I got back just in time to find the house on fire.” Grabbing the reins the Russian lead the reluctant horse forward towards the burning house and the alleyway that linked the yard to the road.
Shivering with shock Karl held on tight. The heat and the noise of fire increased as did the horse’s panic, then the sounds changed, becoming muffled and echoed before he felt the warmth of the fire again. This time however the sounds were different, the air less full of smoke, Karl assumed they had now passed though the alley. The cart moved forward a few more meters and then paused. Karl was about to ask what was going on when something warm and breathing landed by his side. Confused he reached down only to discover the shivering body of a man.
“Who?” he asked.
“The Englishman,” Serge said as he climbed up onto the cart. Snapping the reins he coaxed the horse forward.
“Does he know what happened to the others,” Karl asked, though in truth he had a good idea what had happened to the men in the house.
“Well if he does then he won’t be telling anyone,” Serge said as they pulled away, “The man’s mind is ruined. I found him gibbering in the street when I got back. That was why I needed the cart, if it wasn’t for him I doubt I would have found you Comrade.”
That was a sobering thought.
For a moment neither of them said anything and the only sound was the snow muffled clip of hooves and Toby’s mad gibbering murmurs. In an attempt to calm the man Karl laid a hand on his shoulder only to feel the madman wince. Confused the German slid a hand into the man’s clothes feeling the body quiver as his exploring fingers touched groves and ridges.
“Help me get his jacket off,” Karl said.
“But Comrade he will freeze...”
“It will be for but a second,” Karl insisted and started to strip the Englishman himself.
He heard Serge gasp.....
“Comrade... there... there is a message, burnt into his back...... I think it’s in English.”
Karl knew that Serge couldn’t read English. “Spell it out for me,” he ordered.
Central Station, Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 11:00PM
“All is in readiness,” Aleksei asked.
Station Master Casparov trembled. “Your personal train has been prepared Comrade,” he said, “as you ordered it has supplies and railway authority to Prague.”
“Excellent,” Aleksei said, favoring the man with a rare smile. “You have done well, your loyalty to the party will be noted.”
“Yes Commissar, thank you Commissar,” Dimitri mumbled.
Aleksei gave an expansive gesture. “This is Miss Alison Michaels of New York and her party. She is the personal guest of Comrade Secretary Stalin and it is important that she starts for home immediately. I have assured the Comrade Secretary that our glorious state railways are more than capable of this task.”
There was an implied threat there, a small inflection in his tone that warned Dimitri that disappointing Comrades Rostov and Stalin was not a good idea.
“Thank you Comrade,” Dimitri said, “assure Comrade Stalin that it will be done.” He glanced over his shoulder as the Michaels party, which seemed to consist of three women. The tall redhead must be the American, Dimitri decided, and the blonde girl with her was some wealthy friend. However, the one that worried him was the intense dark haired girl who was dressed as a servant. When he looked at her she met his gaze and held it, Dimitri shivered at the look of driven fanaticism he found there. More than anything Dimitri wouldn’t want to make her his enemy.
Three sailors appeared at the doors wheeling large luggage trolleys that contained a variety of trunks, cases and other containers. Aleksei glanced at the baggage with little interest. “I suggest that you get the train loaded without delay,” he said coldly, “I want to take advantage of the current good weather.”
“At once Commissar,” Dimitri burbled. Quickly he signaled the Cromencov sisters over. He had discovered, during a brief conversation over the soup, that the two girls were educated and able to read and write several languages. With no shipping clerks available they would have to be responsible for the Michaels girl’s manifest.
The sisters hurried over and Dimitri pointed them towards the worrying dark haired servant. “Assist that one with the baggage,” he ordered. Curtsying as they had been taught the girl’s hurried over.
Satisfied Aleksei turned his attention to other things. “Now Comrade,” he said, putting a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, “about the replacement locomotives?”
Platform 8, Central Station, Moscow
Tuesday January 1st 1929 11:15PM
“Halt,” Alison shouted as the two sailors started to manhandle one of her trunks from the trolley. The men stopped and looked at her confused.
“What are you doing?” the American girl asked in perfect Russian, “fools!” She pointed to a sign on the side of the trunk that said clearly in Cyrillic “fragile.”
The men cursed. “its heavy miss,” one of them said looking sheepish.
Alison fumed. “It is also delicate,” she stamped her foot, “go over there, move those trunks we will handle this.” Turning she spotted the Cromencov sisters who were comparing inventory lists. I look of recognition flickered across her face then a brief wicked grin.
“You, you two girls, come over here.”
Dutifully the sisters walked over. Alison smiled at them broadly. “I want you to help me get this trunk onboard,” she said in a tone that indicated that there was no room for discussion.
“But Miss,” Ilyana started, looking at the huge box.
“No arguments,” Alison said, all you have to do is steady the trunk as it’s lifted into the carriage, I wouldn’t trust these men to be gentle enough.”
Turning she smiled at the dark haired girl who was overseeing some of the other loading.
“Oh Uni?” Alison warbled.
Uni stiffened and frowned a little, she had known Alison only a few hours but she already knew that tone. The heiress wanted something.
Alison smiled as her new slave sister came over. “Uni sweetie do be a dear and help these two girls with my special trunk?” Alison smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Thankies.”
Uni sighed and grabbed the trunk. It seemed that when the Master had given his new slave her makeover he’d taken the time to make a few improvements. Grunting slightly Uni shifted her weight, lifting the heavy trunk easily from the trolley. The Cromencov sisters gasped for a moment but the Lady had demanded that they should help and they did their best, grabbing the trunk and helping to guide it into the sleeping carriage.
Smiling at a private joke Alison settled back to watch.
Inside the trunk the two captives sensed the movement but could do little to alert those outside to their fate. Olga and Sofia were naked, bound together face to face, arms and legs wrapped around each other like lovers. Rope bound their wrists, then the area from forearms to fingertips had been encased in spider silk and adhered to their partner’s back. A similar arrangement imprisoned their feet, while a nest of webbing held them firmly in the center of the box and eliminated any possibility that they could somehow pound on the side. However, Alison had reserved her most devious ideas for last. Between the girls and running the whole distance from their asses to the tops of their heads was the black symbiont. The alien machine covered the girl’s heads entirely, forming a black skintight hood that cut them off from all sight, sound and smell. The device had slid two tubes down each girl’s throat, one to carry air to her lungs the other to keep her supplied with liquid for the journey. As a bonus the breathing tube effectively bypassed the voice box rendering them mute and completely gagged. Continuing down the symbiont glued their naked bodies together. The coverage of the black mass varied as it went down, the girl’s breasts for example were completely covered, while only a thin line spread over their stomachs. At crotch level though the device really went to town. Both girls had their cunts filled with the warm vibrating black mass which teased clit and womb mercilessly. Another thinner tube took care of liquid waste allowing the symbiont to recycle the water content and keep the two hydrated.
Olga felt Sophia tremble against her as the box moved again. Completely helpless there was little the girls could do. In fact it was hard enough to keep their thoughts organized. The sexual teasing of the symbiont at breasts and cunt was sapping their willpower at the same time as a recording of Alison’s voice played in their ears, telling them to surrender, to serve their new master. As time went on Olga was finding it hard to resist the message.
She felt the black mass withdraw from her ear canals. Suddenly able to hear Olga renewed her feeble struggles. Then she clearly heard her sister Ilyana say “Now push.”
-----
Somehow the three girls got the big trunk in position. Once she was finished Uni gave Alison a dark look and headed off to supervise the sailors. The Cromencov girls leant back against the trunk and caught their breath.
“Thank you so much,” Alison gushed, “my you railway girls are so strong.”
“We’re not railway girls,” Ilyana said, fighting for breath, “we are just waiting for a train when they asked if we could help out.”
Alison nodded. “Where were you going,” she asked kindly.
“We will be taking a dead relative home for burial,” Ilyana said, sticking to the story Valeri had told them. “My father and sister will be here with the body soon.”
“Sister?” Alison asked, “don’t tell me there is another girl as pretty as you two?”
Inside the trunk the helpless Olga wept into her hood as she heard her sisters tell Alison all about her. Unable to move or even make a sound she listened as the heiress rested her purse on the trunk.
Alison counted out two piles of English silver Florins. “Here we go my dears,” Alison said as she counted the coins into each delighted girl’s hand, “thank you again for all your help.”
The girl’s eyes widened. They had been given three pounds each! That was a fortune in Russia, equal to almost 3 years pay for a skilled worker. In one day they had been given enough to rescue them from starvation and save their family from the cold weather. Happy they turned away unknowingly leaving their youngest sister to her fate.
As they hurried to show their mother their riches only Anna, second youngest and always the worrier in the family wondered why the rich American had given each girl exactly thirty silver coins.
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