Nordic Bound Read online

  ‘Bend over.’ Sabrina stretched down to display her firm buttocks, bisected as they were by the tiny strip of her G-string. Andrei yanked the material down her thighs, where it tangled into a knot just above her knees, and Sabrina’s prominent sex lips protruded in all their glory. As he marvelled at the girl’s body the gruff middle-aged Russian began to undress. He wore no underclothes and his big gnarled prick jumped into view the moment he unzipped his trousers. He took the angry member in his hand and lowered it in line with Sabrina’s glistening sex, and she felt the bulb of his cock nudge it’s way between her labia. Her moistened cunt offered little resistance to his invading length, her lips widening and contracting as his swollen glans slid into her entrance and began its journey along her sheath. His first thrust threatened to unbalance them as his attempts to steady himself between her legs were blocked by her panties, holding her knees together, but Andrei solved the problem by stretching down and tearing the material in two.

  ‘Over the pelts,’ he ordered.

  Sabrina shuffled forward, never once allowing his cock to slip from her vagina. She took her position on the tiger skins and prepared for the onslaught. Andrei didn’t keep her waiting. Almost immediately he thrust his bulging, throbbing prick, forcing the girl to yelp with pleasure. Justin could see quite clearly that Andrei had embedded his full length inside her, on her knees with her head resting on the furs. The Russian continued to fuck the girl, stopping only to pull up her jumper and unclip her bra. Once her breasts were free Andrei returned to his heavy thrusts while he milked her, his large rough hands squeezing and pulling at the soft orbs. The aggression sent shockwaves through Sabrina’s body and she responded by pushing her hips onto his penis, forcing his heavy rod deeper. His pounding became evermore violent and in his frenzy Andrei snatched up a coil of rope and began beating the girl along her back. The hairy hemp tormented her skin, bringing to it a reddish glow that excited the Russian even further.

  Even though Justin had administered numerous beatings to Sabrina he had never seen her endure such a thrashing. Nonetheless, he remained rooted to his position near the curtain, part of him wanting to intervene but another part knowing only too well how angry she would be if he interrupted her pleasure. And another part recognised that he was also excited by the vision of sex that was taking place just ten feet away, and his penis was swelling accordingly. He pulled back the curtain a little further to afford a better view, in time to see Sabrina collapse in orgasmic exhaustion. She lay face down, her legs bent at the knees and swaying with satisfaction. Andrei was already pulling on his dirty work trousers, his prick half bloated and glistening from the juice Sabrina had released.

  Andrei looked up and saw Justin spying on them. He pulled up his zip, laughed loudly in Justin’s direction, and left the secret storeroom. As he passed Justin he said nonchalantly, ‘I think she needs cleaning up.’

  Justin watched the Russian return to the counter, where he took some towels from a shelf and threw them in his direction. Justin picked them up and took them to her. She didn’t register his presence, but remained motionless on the furs. Andrei returned and dropped a note in front of Sabrina, who read it through half-closed eyes. When she had taken in the words she turned over and sat up, reached out and picked up her tattered knickers, then shook her head and threw them to one side.

  ‘Fetch my skirt,’ she said to Justin, firmly.

  Andrei added in forced upper-class tones, ‘There’s a good chap, what.’

  Justin ignored his jibes and gathered up Sabrina’s clothes. ‘Where is this Ivalo?’ she asked. ‘Is it near Lake Inan?’

  ‘It is in Finland,’ answered Andrei. ‘But there is no trouble getting in and out of the country there. David lives with the Saami.’

  ‘The who?’ asked Justin.

  ‘The Saami. You probably know them as Lapps.’

  ‘What’s he doing with them?’

  Andrei smiled at his question. ‘Well, I used to think he was trading with them and living the life he wanted. Now, maybe, I think he might be hiding from you two.’

  ‘That is rubbish,’ Justin blustered. ‘We just want to—’

  ‘Shut up,’ ordered Sabrina. ‘He’s not stupid.’ She turned to the brutish man. ‘Finland’s a big country. Where exactly is Ivalo?’

  Andrei guided them to a large map of the area that hung on a wall. ‘Like I have already said, it is south of lake Inan, between Inari and the river Lotta. The Saami come and go across the borders. No one stops them. They follow the herds.’

  ‘Well how do we get there?’ asked Sabrina.

  ‘You have to live like the Saami, or you will arouse the suspicion of the authorities. There is a road that takes you right to Ivalo, but there are guards at the crossing of the river. You have Russian visas?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sabrina. ‘But they don’t allow us to leave and re-enter the country.’

  ‘Then you must avoid the guards. Do you have money?’

  ‘Some. What will we need for the journey?’

  Andrei busied himself supplying all their requirements for the journey, including food, a tent, a Kalashnikov rifle and a ski sled that he agreed to store for them until they left. Justin weighed the rifle carefully in his hands and turned to Sabrina with a concerned expression, and then the young woman pulled back the firing bar and checked the chamber for debris. It was shining and clean.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Justin.

  ‘A man’s job,’ she replied, and then gestured to the fat Russian for ammunition. ‘And I’ll take that bandoleer.’

  ‘We’re not starting some war,’ groaned Justin. ‘Let’s forget David and go home. We make more money supplying the girls, anyway. Why go through all this for someone who doesn’t even want to come back to Britain?’

  Sabrina forced a single shining brass cartridge into the magazine, and then assembled the weapon with the satisfying snap of precision steel. She pointed the AK47 towards Justin, and without expression made the statement that she was not used to being fucked around with; especially by a man. There was a deafening crack and Justin felt the whoosh of air as the bullet passed by his ear and made a small hole in the head of a stuffed polar bear. Before anyone had time to react Sabrina rolled the rifle in an oilskin, dropped a wad of roubles on the counter and was nearing the door, and then a huge roar of laughter from Andrei broke the stunned silence. He scooped up the mound of notes and thumbed through them.

  ‘Come again!’ he bellowed. ‘If only all my customers were like you; I’d be a rich man.’ As Justin disappeared after his partner into the fading light of a Murmansk evening, a flurry of snowflakes hurried into the shop. Andrei watched the ice turn to water and returned his attention to the wad of money. ‘Perhaps then,’ he grumbled, ‘I can get out of this freezing godforsaken town and move to the Black Sea.’

  Chapter 3

  Daylight had never really arrived, just a grainy twilight that failed even to reflect off the powdery snow that David and the girls were travelling across. The sled had a bright headlamp, but its powerful beam seemed to break up somewhere out in the gloom. It would soon be dark and travelling through the thick forest would become increasingly dangerous. They were still a day out from Murmansk and they needed to make camp.

  David brought the sled to a halt and surveyed the area. To the east were the baroque fjords of Norway’s northern coastline, while the vast Karelian forest lay to the south. David had been forced north to avoid the Russian border guards at Nikel. He had learned early on that while the Saami could come and go, his features picked him out easily, and the guards invariably took half his trade in order to turn a blind eye. He had also learned something else, though. Along this unforgiving coast was a wreck of some Second World War battleship, a tank, and heavy artillery carrier that lay stranded on the beach.

  He edged the sled slowly forward searching for the ship, the darkness closing quickly. For a wh
ile he wondered if the Arctic weather had finally broken the iron hulk to pieces, but it came into view; a huge black mass of tangled metal. The freezing temperatures had preserved the ship well. Rust, the great enemy of all man’s machines, had but a few months, sometimes only weeks during the summer when it could attack the vessel.

  Happy that he would not be forced to pitch camp in the woods, where wolves and bears could quickly pick up the scent of easy human prey, David accelerated his sled towards the ship. The bow of the vessel, which had once unloaded tanks, lay open and he drove his vehicle straight into the belly of the ship. It looked like Jonah entering the whale as the lamp from the sled disappeared into the once great metal beast.

  David dismounted, took up his rifle and motioned for the girls to carry the provisions, then covered the sled with a protective insulation blanket. Light had now all but given way to the inky blackness of an Arctic night. David thrust his hand into the sack over Teena’s back, pulled out a flare and set it aflame. The green phosphor hissed and crackled an angry, extremely bright light.

  As the three sole occupants of the ship made their way up steps and along corridors three eerie shadows followed. Eventually David came to the door for which he was searching. It was mahogany panelled, although the veneer that still held some polish hid a heavy steel door behind. A copper plate that had turned green stated simply, Captain. David leant his shoulder against it, and the door swung open surprisingly easily.

  It wasn’t a big cabin, though it clearly reflected the distance between captain and rating. The walls were panelled and a heavy leather chair squatted behind a large desk suitable for the reading of maps. There were none on there now. Not because they had been destroyed or removed after the ship had been crippled – they hadn’t – but because David had collected them on his very first visit, along with jewellery and other artefacts of the long dead sailors. He sold them all at Gorky’s trading post and Andrei had given him a good price. There was time later, David thought, for more treasure hunting, but his first concern was to light a fire and eat. The girls had already begun filling the stove; evidently the ship still had ample supplies of coal onboard when the steel tip of a torpedo had struck her propeller and she was run aground and abandoned.

  The satisfying crackle of wood assured the three that the fire was underway, and David was able to light some candles before the flare gave a final desperate flicker and went out. Through the porthole a single shooting star scratched its path across the sky, and all was silent until David heard the sound of liquid tumbling into his cup. He turned to see Mishka holding out his antler horn, brimming with vodka.

  ‘Sit,’ she said, and pointed to the captain’s chair. David took a sip and slumped into the red leather seat. Near the stove and in the light from the candle Teena was preparing a pipe of loki for her master. While she prepared his smoke her sister threw a slab of harp seal meat on top of the stove. That was for David; the two girls had never been able to eat seal meat cooked.

  The small room soon grew warm and the smell of the cooking mingled with the aroma of loki to give the atmosphere a snug and pleasant air. Warm on the outside, the vodka now did the same for his insides. Unusually for him he poured both girls a drink, and then leant back in his chair and smoked his pipe.

  David ate his meal off the captain’s pewter plates and washed it down with another horn of vodka, and as it was still only mid-afternoon and tiredness had not yet arrived, David tapped the desk and pushed back his chair. In a snowbound country that spent half its time in darkness there were few diversions other than sex. That was why David loved it so much. The two girls stood next to each other at the side of the desk.

  ‘Teena,’ he said, his voice breaking the silence like cracking ice. ‘Up on the desk.’

  She began to obey him immediately, but he stopped her with another order. ‘Strip first.’

  Teena looked back, unsure of the language until her older sister tugged at her furs and the words registered. With Mishka’s help Teena removed her thick silver fox fur trousers and cape. David admired her firm young body adorned with a lattice of leather straps, silver buckles and amber jewellery. When he had satisfied his eyes he motioned with his head to the desk, and Teena compliantly climbed on it on hands and knees.

  He turned to Mishka. ‘Cunt,’ he declared. ‘Lick.’

  The girl bent forward and dipped her tongue into her sister’s vulva, while David took out his prick and stroked it. He timed his movements to coincide with Teena’s swinging breasts and was occasionally forced to press his thumb down hard onto his piss hole to prevent himself firing too early, and when his orgasm came too close for comfort he released his prick and leant over to fetch something from his bag.

  It was a brass telescope he had salvaged from the wreck on a previous visit. Out here it was an important piece of kit, so David refused to trade it. Along with its magnifying properties it had other uses. Mishka took it off him and knew instinctively what to do, and Teena knew exactly where it was going. The young Lapp parted her knees and her vagina spread accordingly. The cold metal touched the girl’s bottom and she withdrew automatically. David pointed towards his mouth, gesturing for Mishka to warm the metal. The girl sucked the instrument like it was a lover’s cock, before again trying to insert it inside her sister. This time her bottom didn’t flinch and her softening vagina was more accommodating. Mishka pushed in the fat objective lens end, stretching Teena’s hole so it could accept the main tube towards the eyepiece. After around six inches had become embedded she looked to David for instructions, so he gripped his cock again and nodded, and at once the Lapp girl began grinding the telescope in and out of her sister. It wasn’t a matter of degrading her, for both girls had long since passed the stage of sexual embarrassment. She wanted sex and her sister’s actions on the desk indicated she was of the same mind.

  This time David measured his strokes, pacing them against Mishka’s pumping arm. Teena lifted her head from its submissive low position and looked at him. She was already in the throes of a forthcoming orgasm and grimaced with pleasure.

  ‘Stop,’ said David. ‘Mishka, strip.’

  The older Lapp girl had learned far more English than her sister, and obeyed. Now both girls were wearing nothing but leather, silver and amber. David took Teena by the arm and guided her down from the desk, only to have her bend over it. He took Mishka a step or two away and forced her to bend forward so that both girls now had their bottom’s facing each other. He judged the distance almost to perfection, because when he extended the telescope by pulling on the eyepiece, it reached to within an inch or two of Mishka’s taut rear.

  He returned to his chair and pointed at the older sister, who then reached behind to grasp the now warm brass tube. She held it firmly and slowly shuffled backwards, until she too was impaled upon it. David gave the signal for the two to start fucking, and in perfect synchronism the girls began moving towards each other, stopping only when they were filled, at which point about four inches of brass connected their cunts. David returned to his cock and massaged himself to a full erection while the girls continued their rude display. Teena, who had been close to an orgasm only moments before, released a flow of juice that smeared along the telescope, and the sight of her rapture almost pushed him over the edge.

  He stood up and pulled the telescope from Teena’s sex and ordered her onto the desk with knees pulled up and apart. The girl’s excitement was evident as she continually clenched her vagina, almost as if trying to ensnare any cock that dared come too close. David watched her, and pressed her sister’s head down.

  Mishka licked the moment she was faced with her younger sister’s slick sex. Behind her he closed the telescope but left it deep inside Mishka, and looked at the glorious sight in front of him; Mishka’s unblemished back, her glorious black hair tumbling over her face onto her sister’s thighs.

  ‘No wonder they call you Lapps,’ he said, but the girls didn’t respo
nd until Mishka felt his rigid manhood push past her tight sphincter. It complemented the metal in her vagina and she welcomed the extra squeeze, and when David emptied his balls inside her warm arse she had already beaten him by two orgasms, and the sensation of the hot spurting fluid inside her bottom took her to another.

  All three required further sustenance to replace the energy lost during sex, so David pulled out three strips of deer jerky from his rucksack. Being freeze-dried it was the Arctic equivalent of the sun-dried favourite of American westerns. It was chewy and rather tasteless, but along with the vodka it refuelled the body.

  Once revitalised David motioned for the girls to follow him, and made for the door and a search of the ship. Tomorrow he would be in Murmansk and anything more he could find to trade would give him more money for the needs of next winter.

  The ship was in total darkness, and David took up a length of wood dipped in pitch and set it on fire to act as a torch. He then led the girls down into the bowels of the ship. As the three descended Mishka clung tightly to her sister and both girls stayed close to their master. After three flights of stairs they had travelled lower than David had ventured on any of his previous visits. The temperature plummeted and the sound of slushy iced water slopping lazily against the ship’s side informed them that they were below the water level.

  Carefully they made their way between bulkheads, and the dancing light of the torch illuminated increasing signs of damage. Pieces of twisted metal occasionally blocked their path, and they had to bend down to pass some ducting that had fallen from the deckhead during the ship’s battle for survival. David tried to force some of the hatches, but they were stuck firm. One particular hatch was buckled, and though it would not budge there were some gaps around its edges. He handed the torch to Teena and she held it above his head while he peered through the opening.

  The light gave tantalising glimpses of utter carnage. The chamber had been hit badly during the fighting, and there was little salvage to be expected from it. They moved on, surprised to find that the corridor appeared to be rising. It finally terminated in a heavy metal hatch built into the bulkhead. David pushed against it, but it would not budge.