Nordic Bound Read online

  One man in his late fifties sat at a table in a dimly lit booth. Sat with him were three cronies. Occasionally a young man or girl would approach, speak to him and he would nod. That was the signal for one of the other men to hand over a small foil envelope. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to guess what he was peddling.

  ‘Enjoying?’ Catherine was back.

  ‘Sort of,’ said Justin. ‘What are we doing here? Hey…’

  Catherine danced back to the floor, where she was joined by a young man who danced frantically in front of her, running his hands down to her knees and back up her body again. Catherine looked over to Justin and shouted, ‘You enjoy; I will see you later,’ then she grabbed the young man’s head and kissed him strongly on the mouth. A mixture of anger and jealousy washed over Justin. He wondered if Catherine was a user like Sabrina, and he considered leaving, but his thoughts were sidetracked and he was pushed into an adjoining room by two couples. It was unintentional and the four grunted what seemed like an apology, and went off into the gloom.

  When the door closed behind him the room fell into darkness. There were a few small ultra-violet lamps, but it was impossible to make out any features. Justin fumbled into the darkness while the muffled thud of the music trailed behind him to be replaced by whisperings in the gloom.

  Justin stumbled further into the recesses of the room. Now that his eyesight had grown accustomed to the poor light he found he could make out small alcoves in the walls. Inside each he made out shadowy figures. They seemed to be climbing over each other, forming knots and grotesque shapes. Justin stumbled closer to the alcove nearest him. It was full of people; writhing, pulsating people in sexual congress. There was no shape or order to their movements, no control, no expression other than pure lust. He quickly realised there were three males and one female. She lay above a man on top of a table. His solid cock impaled her. She was on her knees leaning forwards, her breasts swinging freely above his chest. Behind her another man was pummelling her arse, his hefty pole reaming her with each thrust of his straining hips. A third man had a knee placed either side of his accomplice’s head so that his balls hung down to almost touch his face, and the girl was sucking hard on the cock that was fucking her face.

  Justin was immediately aroused and watched the scene intently, his cock stiffening inside his trousers, the four participants in front of him oblivious to his presence. Their only consideration was to give and receive pleasure, and Justin sensed from their urgent movements that they were obtaining their wishes. It was too dark to discern features, but he could see the silhouette of the female’s breasts heaving as she lifted her body to meet the twin prongs embedded in her cunt and anus. The man lying on his back must have had more staying power than his comrades, because the others climaxed simultaneously, the man at her head slumping backwards and completely disappearing into the shadows.

  Justin remained motionless. Although he had witnessed and taken part in enough crazy scenes to become indifferent to the morality of such displays, what he hadn’t become accustomed to was the intense feelings such sexual scenes aroused in him. He edged forward, hoping to get a closer view, but stopped when a gaunt face leaned out of the shadows. It was the man who had just finished in the girl’s bottom, and he looked furious. He spat some words and Justin prepared for the worst. Then the gaunt stranger cursed again and rose to his feet, and in response Justin stepped back a little to give himself space while he checked around the room in search of an escape route. There was little point; it was too dark and he had become disoriented by their lascivious performance.

  More angry words issued from the man’s mouth, accompanied by a raised hand. Amazingly he was gesturing towards the girl’s rear, and although his words still sounded harsh he was now smiling, and his offer needed no translation, so Justin took up position behind the girl. He still had little idea of what she looked like, but it was no matter; his libido was fuelled and his prick required the sheath of a female.

  His invading erection appeared not to disturb her; rather she spread herself to accommodate him. Her pursed and pre-oiled sphincter put up little resistance and he found the dome of his cock bullying its way into her back passage. The sensation was incredible, made all the more so by the feeling of the other man’s cock still pounding in the adjacent pouch. It intensified his pleasure and evidently did the same for the girl, because she suddenly began moaning and her buttocks pushed strongly back into his groin, and the reason became evident when the man beneath them let out an anguished yell between clenched teeth and fired his sperm into her. Justin actually felt the swell in the other man’s penis and was well aware that it pulsated with each furious spurt, and within moments he erupted frenziedly too.

  Even before he recovered his senses the Russian who had motioned for him to mount the girl was slapping his back and shouting encouraging words. Unable to understand and answer Justin simply smiled. The man’s appetite had returned and he was gesturing for Justin to pull out and stand aside, and the moment he did so the man took up the familiar position and started on the girl again.

  Now replete, Justin watched the others in a detached, dispassionate manner. He noticed how the girl willingly gave her body to them. She received another face full of sperm and gratefully lapped up the laces that missed her gaping mouth. That was right, thought Justin. The girl was right; Sabrina had become bossy, arrogant, and dominant. Although she obsessed him, he wished life could return to how it was when he had rescued her from Camelot, David’s training centre in England. Although David was now on the run from Sabrina, at least he was free. Justin pushed past the bucking hips of the Russian, who by now was racing to another orgasm.

  He wasn’t free, he recognised. Sabrina had hooked him and possessed him until he was obsessed with her.

  Another couple entered the dingy backroom so Justin saw the light and headed for it. Passing back into the main room he wondered if he possessed the strength to take his manhood back from Sabrina, before she totally emasculated him.

  ‘Hey English, where have you been?’ Catherine gave him a playful pinch on the cheek. ‘Have you been watching the people? Naughty boy.’

  Justin moved with her towards the bar. ‘Are you going to run off again?’

  The girl circled him as he walked, running her hands over his face and chest. She was flushed and glowing with perspiration, and she panted with exhaustion. ‘Buy me a drink.’

  ‘Why should I?’

  ‘Because,’ she said. ‘You are an Englishman. And it is right.’

  Justin gave an amused grunt.

  ‘And,’ she stepped back. ‘Because you want to know what my Russian cunt looks like.’ The long leather coat opened to reveal her parted legs – long leather-booted legs that vanished beneath a short leather skirt. Justin stared at her erotic pose as she sexily lifted the front of the skimpy leather. Her eyes were fixed on his, but then she didn’t need to see what she was doing, just what the effect was having on him.

  When the skirt was just an inch above the delicious V of where her shapely thighs met, she stopped. A delicate bulge filled the shiny black patent material, and he could just make out a tiny crease. His breathing became shallow and he watched her watching him. Her eyes never left his, even when several men walked by and took in the sight. It was like there were only two real people in the whole room; others became shadows, voices dimmed, lights faded. Justin simply wanted that cunt.

  ‘Naughty boy.’ She released the skirt and the beautifully alluring valley disappeared from sight. ‘Now, buy me a drink.’

  Catherine called for the drinks and the barman banged two bottles down in front of them. They were tall, elegant bottles filled with a lime-green drink that Justin assumed to be vodka. Catherine clinked her bottle to his and they drank. He was right, but then again, every drink was vodka. This though, had a remarkably fresh, sharp taste, like licking limejuice off a frozen razorblade.

 
‘Good, yes?’

  Justin nodded. ‘Very good. What is it? It tastes of lemons or limes. I can never tell which is which.’

  ‘They put vodka in a special tub. It is made from arctic pine. Then they put in some polar moss.’

  ‘Is that what gives it the taste?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Catherine. ‘I like to drink it because it makes me want to dance.’

  Justin took another sip and smiled, and nodding towards the dance floor he added, ‘I can see you like to dance.’

  Catherine dipped her tongue into the long neck of the bottle. ‘I prefer to fuck,’ she said, and gave him that piercing stare that made him nervous. ‘First I like to drink, then I like to dance, then I like to fuck. What about you?’

  ‘I’m not too great on the dancing part.’

  ‘You should try it. I will show you.’

  Justin took a sip and raised the bottle in a negative gesture. ‘It’s not for me, thanks. But I enjoyed watching you. You are very good at it.’

  ‘Well,’ said Catherine, ‘if you will not dance then we must get our fun elsewhere.’ She picked up her bottle and headed for the mêlée that were still writhing to the heavy music.

  ‘I told you, I don’t dance,’ but Justin followed her through the crowd.

  ‘I want you to meet someone,’ she told him.

  In front of them was the booth with the man Justin had earlier seen peddling drugs. ‘This isn’t a good idea,’ he told her, but Catherine took no notice and sat next to the main man. She patted the seat and called Justin over.

  ‘English, this is Viktor. He sells dreams.’

  Justin looked at her sternly. ‘I know what he sells.’

  Catherine gave him a look of mock hurt. ‘Oh, English,’ she said. ‘Don’t be so stuffy.’ She turned to the man and spoke in Russian, then turned back to Justin. ‘I need twenty-five dollars.’

  ‘I won’t give it to you. Not for that.’

  The feigned look of hurt returned. ‘Come on, English. It feels good. We will get a whole gram for that.’

  Catherine turned to the man, and this time spoke in English for Justin’s benefit. ‘No, the English will not give me the money. What is that?’ She turned to Justin, and then panned her gaze across Viktor’s three cronies before speaking again. ‘You will give me the dragon if I do what?’ Again she looked Justin in the eye. ‘If English will not give me money, then I have no choice.’

  ‘What are you going on about?’ Justin demanded.

  Catherine began shifting in the seat. ‘I want the dragon,’ she replied. ‘Viktor will give me the dragon even if English gives me no money.’ She moved down under the table and Justin saw Viktor move slightly as Catherine unbuckled his trousers, and all four men sat in silence while under the table she gobbled on Viktor’s prick. Occasionally Justin felt her body move against his leg as she adjusted her position, and it drove him wild to know what she was doing.

  Several uneasy minutes passed until Viktor stiffened and signalled that he was pumping into the girl’s throat, and a moment later she climbed back up from beneath the table. She took a swig from her bottle as Viktor spoke to her, and she spoke angrily back.

  ‘See,’ she said to Justin. ‘You don’t give me the money, now I have to suck them all.’

  ‘It’s not my fault,’ he said defensively. ‘You want the dragon, or whatever it is, not me.’

  The girl shimmied back under the table and began giving the man next to Viktor the same treat. He either had better control than his gangster friend or was having difficulty coming in front of an audience, for Justin watched his blank face. Despite the raucous activity in the club the dim booth was eerily tense, but the sound of Catherine’s head bumping up against the underside of the table broke the suspense. She cried out in Russian and for a moment Justin was alarmed, but she reappeared looking more dishevelled than before and sat up next to him. For a short period she was silent, then Justin saw her swallow what was the last of the man’s spunk and give a little shudder.

  Viktor spoke again and pointed to the next man in line. Catherine smiled and nodded, and told Justin she wanted a drink. Viktor pointed aggressively towards the other man and she nodded again, and was about to slip under the table when Justin interrupted. ‘All right,’ he hissed. ‘I’ll give you the money.’

  Catherine smiled and reached out to kiss him, but he pulled away, amusing the thugs.

  Viktor produced a small silver packet from a pocket, and immediately she pulled over a small candle that had been burning in the centre of the table and unwrapped the package.

  As Justin knew it would, the silver wrap contained a white powder, though he didn’t know what the substance was. To Catherine it was clearly very precious. She flattened the silver foil in a reverent, almost religious manner, and then pulled a cutthroat razor from her cleavage, Justin making a mental note to remember that.

  With the edge of the razor she separated the powder into two uneven mounds. The largest mound she wrapped up again, but with the smaller she made a kind of boat out of the foil. Turning to Justin she licked both sides of the blade to remove some grains that had become stuck to it, then put the larger foil wrap in her pocket. ‘For later,’ she said.

  She then began sailing the silver boat an inch or two over the candle flame, and in a few seconds a white cloud began to lift from the powder, curling upwards. ‘See,’ she said. ‘The dragon.’ She leant forward and breathed in deeply, inhaling the dragon’s tail and the whole beast into her nostrils. A few claws of smoke escaped, only to be captured by the lungs of the other men. ‘Breathe,’ Catherine whispered. ‘Become the dragon.’

  Justin meant to turn away but the dragon caught him. It clawed its way into his head, drying his nose with its vapours. Then it scraped out his brain, leaving only an empty cavity. He felt nothing but the chill of numbness, his mind being cleaned of any thoughts and replaced with a clean white slate.

  ‘I told you I would show you snow,’ Catherine whispered into his ear. It took several minutes but the words eventually registered. Justin was beginning to feel again. His eyes flickered and she saw it. ‘He comes back,’ she gushed. ‘The dragon comes back.’

  Suddenly Justin’s mind exploded into a frenzy of thought and knowledge, of sensation beyond sensation, smells overpowered him, dim lights burned his eyes, and the music smashed his ears. Catherine pushed past him, grabbed his wrist and dragged him to meet other worshippers. Together they twirled, twisted, bumped and swayed in frenzied honour of the all powerful dragon.

  Several hundred pairs of gloved hands gave a strangely muffled applause as the players of Uncle Vanya took their final bow. The curtain fell and the noise of glove against glove diminished to be replaced by the general bustle of people preparing to leave the theatre. In a box off stage right Vasili Leskov was holding up Sabrina’s coat for her to put on.

  ‘Did you like it?’

  ‘Very much,’ answered Sabrina. ‘Though I don’t claim I understood it all.’

  ‘That is what plays are for. To make you think. There is always more to understand.’

  ‘I couldn’t make out who Sonja was.’

  The captain opened the door for them to make their way out. ‘She is the professor’s daughter by his first wife, and also Vanya’s niece. It is about devotion. To the professor or to whatever. We are all devoted to something; our country, our religion, something.’

  Outside the huge soldier was waiting patiently by the car, and within a few moments they were travelling through the streets of Murmansk. When Sabrina saw the Hotel Romanov she thought the evening was at an end, but the car kept going.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked.

  The captain offered her a drink. ‘I want to show you something,’ he said. ‘Something special. Do you mind? Is there somewhere you must be?’

  Sabrina relaxed into her seat and sipped her d
rink. ‘No,’ she answered. ‘I have plenty of time.’

  The car made a few turns and went on its way. Along one street Sabrina saw a crowd of people climbing into the back of a lorry. Others appeared to be loading it up with boxes and crates. Helping them was Justin. She sat up in her seat, intrigued at what he was doing, but the car turned onto Chelyuskintsev and they headed into the countryside.

  Within half a mile the road closed in with pines on either side, and the car was forced to slow down to contend with the heavy snow. The car’s headlights tried in vain to punch a hole in the darkness, but were stopped almost immediately by heavy white flakes seemingly intent on blocking their path. Vasili seemed unconcerned, which relaxed Sabrina, so she accepted two more drinks and basked in the warmth of the car’s luxurious interior. If she had known she was in a three ton, bombproof military transport she may have felt even safer.

  The atmosphere had grown very comfortable and Sabrina couldn’t help snatching glances at the handsome captain, replete in his green uniform with red and gold epaulettes. He was quiet and understated, confident and dignified. He caught her looking at him and smiled. ‘So,’ he said before she had a chance to be embarrassed, ‘are you enjoying your stay in my country?’

  ‘Very much,’ she said truthfully. ‘It is very beautiful.’

  ‘But you are not a tourist.’

  She grew alarmed. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘What tourist comes this far north? Besides, you travel alone. No, I think you are here on business.’

  There was no underlying tone to his questions, but Sabrina was cautious. ‘A little bit of both,’ she ventured.