Whole New Slave Game Ch. 11

In the car, were five men; a familiar looking driver whose name I never learned, Fortmanov, Colonel Shurov, Ignat and Vitaly. "Oh shit," was all I could say. Shurov played with a knife while Vitaly did knuckle cracking exercises he must have picked up from some old movie. Fortmanov glared and looked sinister in a way I might have found comical were he not holding a gun.

"We are going to take you to a sort of famous place in modern Bolrian history," Fortmanov stated. "Naturally, several of us will screw you there, but the main purpose is to decide whether great things will go forward with you or without you. We do care what you decide, both because you are so beautiful and charming and because certain assets will be hard to keep intact without your assistance and existence."

We rode for about an hour. Naturally, I was scared shitless. There was much chat in Russian about how unfair the Olympic committee was and how everyone cheats in one-way or another. Shurov out of nowhere and seemingly addressing no one in particular started a speech that shooting was really too good for spies. He could not see how anyone would wish to be associated with Pyotr or Svetlana Tolski. Fortmanov opined that it would be very sad if whores who are nice and comfortable in the Caspian resort would have to be moved to some nasty brothel in Shanghai or on the Reeperbahn. "But sometimes terrible pain happens when it isn't possible to make a smooth transition. Sometimes stubborn people are wedded to an evil past and a smooth transition fails."

We arrived at some sort of old truck repair shop. I thought of Irina's "trance" story about being raped decades ago but there wasn't a historical marker at the shop, just historical truck repair equipment and signs that went back to the cold war era.

They ordered me to take off my clothing. Once I was nude, Fortmanov told me, "Present your tits for torture." There was no point in offering any resistance. I gritted my teeth and placed my breasts in his open motioning hands like I was going for a mammogram. He squeezed harder than any mammogram and bit my left nipple just short of drawing blood. Having definitely made an impression, Fortmanov began another pitch.

"Laurel, we can get you and Ignat on a plane for New York tomorrow. Sunday you can begin to undo your various tricks that would expose the Lottery as a show of good faith. It's not really necessary that you undo them all though. If we can trust you, you are not going to be hurt and all the little things you've set up to happen if you disappear, will never happen. In a week, things will have changed here. All we will require is that you continue to be a valuable sex slave in New York. You need never come back to this brutal ridiculous country."

I just stood there. I did not trust him to keep any promise made to me. I did not want to enable gangsters, bigots and fascists to take over Bolry or the Lottery Resorts. I did want to go back to New York but thought there was about a 95% chance Ignat would put a bullet in my head there if I did anything that would expose problems in Bolry and about a 60% chance he would do so anyway.

I just stood there. Yes, I just stood there. I had nothing to say that would improve on the silence.

After a few minutes, Fortmanov said, "Ok, you can think it over the next few days while we think it over. It does not seem your great brain works anymore. But first, we want to use the parts of your body that still function."

My back was placed on a one of the tracks for a hydraulic truck lift. I was fucked roughly in my pussy by everyone. I don't think any of them wore condoms because afterwards they spoke of how they were eager to take "creampie" photos of their handwork with me on my back on the cold steel. I felt totally used because I had been totally used.

I did have two orgasms during the process. I am not ashamed. Why should I be ashamed even if these assholes were little more human than the fucking machine that had been in the Security Police headquarters? My body had responded in a way that gave me momentary pleasure and I had done my best to imagine again the strong gladiator in place of criminals. But to call this sex fun or joyful would be like saying that men who orgasm while dying on the gallows are having a good time.

I expected them to take me back to the BLC Headquarters or at least back downtown. Instead, Shurov went back to the SUV, came back and tossed me some packs of army rations and a canteen full of water.

"So, cunt," Shurov said, "you can think a couple days and we can think. Decisions will be made whatever you do."

I spent two nights locked in the repair shop. The windows were barred. The toilet did not work, but I used it anyway. The toilet paper was probably of poor quality in 1995 and had not gotten any softer with time. I slept on a wooden desk that was a little more comfortable and warm than the cement floor although I was scared of falling off of the desk in my sleep. There was electricity but the phone did not work. I slept little.

Although hardly fit to eat, the rations only lasted about a day. My only amusement was reading truck instruction manuals from the Brezhnev era. I was nude, scared to death and as miserable as I have ever been in my life. I told myself that it was pointless to cry but I cried anyway. I wanted to believe that there was a force in the universe looking over me benevolently but I could not imagine who or what.

Sunday, maybe 10 in the morning, Fortmanov showed up with just a driver. His greeting was, "You stink. I don't want to smell you on the ride back." He had the driver hose me off outside and tossed me a towel and a robe he'd thoughtfully brought.

After about ten minutes into the ride back he asked me if I had decided anything. I said I decided I did not enjoy being locked up in a truck repair shop for two days. He said I was not as cute or smart as I thought. Looking at me sternly, he said, "Tuesday you will receive instructions from someone you know. Follow them to the letter or you and a lot of people you like will be killed. After Tuesday, you won't have to deal with us anymore and your family will not be harmed."

He repeated the same message with slight variations about four times on the way back before letting me off at the BLC headquarters wearing only a cheap terrycloth robe.

I thought that a god, gods or fate owed it to me to leave me alone for a couple days. I went straight from the doorway to my room. I did get two real, if tasteless, meals delivered to my room on Sunday and some troubled sleep filled with horrible memories and fears.

Just before midnight Sunday, I woke and felt a presence in my room. I would have screamed when I saw Pirko Dupov, but he had his hand over my mouth before I could do so and a knife at my chest.

"It would be a pity if I had to harm such perfect breasts," he whispered in English. "Now answer some questions for me if you don't want to die real soon. I strongly suggest you not lie. I know the correct answers to most of these questions and will cut you the first time you tell me that you know something that you don't. I also know that you have met with many people over the past weeks and know the answers to many of my questions. Don't pretend not to know things I know you know."

He started by asking me about what Svetlana was doing. I told him honestly that she had been avoiding me and I did not know why. As to Sofia, I answered that she seems to have flipped out. "I think she is very lonely and just can't take it anymore."

Dupov asked me about Lermanov. I said I had had sex with him and that he'd told me to be a good sex slave, but remained silent about Lermanov's list of assignments and certain things he said. I was pleased not to feel steel in my chest after providing the half-truth. I truthfully could say that I had only been with Pyotr Tolski at cabinet meetings.

"Laurel, what is Fortmanov doing?"

"I think he is involved in plans for a coup that would leave him holding the Bolrian Lottery Corporation." I summarized some of the recent facts about the trips to the BSP and the truck repair shop.

Dupov started slowly to move the knife over my chest so that I could feel the point without him drawing blood. I barely breathed. He asked who else was involved in this so-called coup.

"Ok," I said, "if I am to die here I might as well do so telling the truth. I am sure that Yimofeyvich and Shurov are planning to lead army units in the coup that Sazarbeyev and that some of the Zekezhs think that they will gain independence by supporting the coup. I feel that Vadimovich is one of the plotters."

"Why do you think that?" Dupov said in an almost bemused voice.

"Because he praised Pyotr Tolski too much and I did not like him in bed. "

"That's a stupid answer," Dupov said.

"You said I should be honest, you did not require intelligence," I said without adding that the fact Vadimovich praised Tolski when he knew the room was bugged affected my thinking. I did not mention this because I was sure the room in which we were then speaking was also bugged.

I added that I was pretty sure that Gorsuchin was supporting the coup but perhaps not with the support of his government. I also said that Renin and Babanin were part of the conspiracy because of what I knew of their attitudes and who they had been with when. "One can't prove guilt by association but it is a reasonable basis for suspicion when there is no good reason for the people involved to associate," I added.

"What of Bolontini? Dupov inquired.

"No, no interest in Bolry other than sex."

"Kohl?"

"I think not, he has the heart of a capitalist not a covert criminal. He'll exploit you to your face, work you to death and send flowers to your widow."

"Kurbetski?"

"No, I think he is genuinely loyal to Pyotr Tolski."

There was a pause as Dupov adjusted the location of his knife.

"Now, here are the big bonus questions, what of Daria?" Dupov said while using the very tip of the blade to outline my right areola.

"No, ridiculous. He's got all he wants now," I said very slowly holding my breath.

"Dvorzhinski?"

"I'd really like you to put that knife away," I croaked out. After Dupov moved the knife a bit from my body, I said, "I don't know about Dvorzhinski. He does not like Svetlana but I don't know what he wants. He is playing some game but I don't know which side he's on."

Dupov moved the knife to my throat and asked, "What of Pirko Dupov?"

I inhaled slightly through my nose and said, "I don't know," although I felt somehow that I did know.

Dupov finally put the knife away and pulled down his pants. "Might as well screw you. Might be the last chance."

Most women would probably not like the long jackhammer coitus that followed, particularly under the circumstances of the death threats, but it was just what I needed at the time, particularly under the circumstances. If someone was listening in, he or she got quite an earful of my enjoying what I feared was the last sex of my life.

I slept a few hours before waking up terrified.

THE SECOND SHADES OF PAIN LOTTERY

This morning, I followed my usual Monday routine except with little human interaction. I got my usual healthy breakfast except that it seemed a bit small and soggy. I read while doing exercises but decided to go for a swim in the special BLC pool used by BLC executive employees and Lottery participants. Off in a corner of the pool I saw the Danish BDSM model, Freya, alone, sitting nude with her legs in the water. I decided to see if she could tell me anything of what I'd missed the last few days while locked in the shed.

"You really don't know?" Freya said answering in English better than mine.

"No, I was literally locked up from Friday night until yesterday. Except for one visitor last night who only wanted to get information and have sex, I have been totally isolated from everyone since the end of the business day Friday," I answered.

"Well," Freya started, "as you would know, we started topless Saturday evening with 12 women. Svetlana did the program again. She was nearly topless herself in an almost transparent blouse and a tight leather skirt. She welcomed Brigit as the new participant in the Shades of Pain Lottery replacing Megan McCampbell who lost two weeks ago."

"Stop," I said, "I do want to hear all about the Lottery on Saturday, but first can you tell me what got you to participate again after seven years. I last saw you during the Lottery in which I became a sex slave. You were doing live sex on stage after the Lottery Machine named you as the woman to put on a sex show while those of us going on to the semi-final got set up. That sure seems like a long time ago. I've spent all those years as a sex slave."

"I spent all those years less profitably than you in many ways. At least from what I have heard you have done a lot more as a sex slave than I have done as a free woman.

"After the sex show you mentioned, which I have to admit I enjoyed a lot, I watched your initiation as a sex slave. I had the strangest feeling, Laurel. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was terribly envious of you. Despite all your pain and humiliation, or maybe because of all the pain and humiliation, it was obvious that you were in ecstasy most of the time. I thought that you were one sick lady but that I was just as sick.

"I went back to being a model for BDSM clothing and devices and arty photos when I got back to Copenhagen. It was fun in some ways but it wasn't real. It wasn't even real pretend. It was pictures of pretend.

"I got into the BDSM scene in Copenhagen but it wasn't rough enough. Everyone treated me like some type of princess when I wanted real pain. When I got down to Berlin, it was better. The Kraftwerks didn't care who I was. I got off from the whippings and toys. I was devoted for almost a year to one guy who lived in Rostock, which was right off the ferry from Denmark. The sex was great. Towards the end, though, I just wanted more and different men. Also, it seemed like he wanted to own my mind when I only wanted to give my body. I liked him as a dick. Wasn't that good enough?

"The modeling jobs became harder to find. It was not that I looked worse at 29 than I did at 24, but the world had so many pictures of Freya in bondage there just wasn't much more demand for new pictures. The clothing lines still wanted me in their corsets and ropes but how many new mesh bodysuits and leather bikinis come out each year? My efforts to go into mainstream modeling had mixed results.

"I got lots of offers of a lot of money to do porn films but I did not want to see movies of me in the middle of a gangbang on an internet site where my friends in Kolding could see them. I don't know why I cared. I rarely saw those friends.

"I should have developed some healthy hobbies or gone back to school. I think I was just too used to having things easy. I did not want to be healthy or learn anything.

"Through my agent, I learned that there was a growing Freya fan club with Chapters in Warsaw and Berlin. The Chapter in Warsaw offered me 8000 Euros to visit. When I inquired what would happen if I went, the agent grinned and became short on details.

"The Lottery had never forgotten me and kept sending offers for me to participate again. I wrote back that I was not interested but asked if I could have access to certain tapes. The BLC sent me passwords that allowed me access too much of the archive. I have to admit that certain tapes of you, Margaret, Lena, Ashley, Irina and Crystal having your brains fucked out were my favorites. Laurel, you are amazing in your ability to give and take so much from every partner no matter who they are.

"The Lottery has gotten increasingly sophisticated with their website. One thing I could see was a video about how you have continued your legal career and promoted Bolry. The BLC seemed to be almost promoting you as a model of how happy one can be as a sex slave. They haven't been running that video for a few months though.

"Also, if a former participant wants to be contacted by sex slaves or other former participants, she can get on an extremely private list. I did want to be contacted. I learned that Elizabeth the Polish Doctor is wondering if it would be so bad to lose. She said that from what she saw of the medical facilities at the resorts, they were a lot better than what she can now use in Lublin. That crazy German mountain climbing woman, who kept trying to kill herself through sport, is also thinking about the Lottery again after getting out of the hospital from her latest racing accident. In fact, I think all of the women who participated in the Lotteries in which you became a slave who have not become slaves, are interested in taking the risk again.

"I did not need the money," Freya said. "I have a lot of savings from my work as a model, but a few months ago I told the BLC I was seriously considering doing it again. Svetlana immediately flew out. We had lunch. She was dressed sexier than me. When I said I often felt that you, Crystal and Chiara had been the winners of the Lotteries in which I participated, she said she often wished she were a sex slave. She said it was true that one could not easily form a long-term romantic relationship as a sex slave but that romantic relationships are way overrated. I agreed. She suggested that becoming a Bolrian sex slave is like being a nun in a very safe and beautiful convent except that instead of praying eight hours a day, there is eight hours of sex. Sounded like a good religion to me.

"Six weeks ago, I agreed to do it again. I have to say that when I got to Bolry three weeks ago, I was almost as afraid of not becoming a BDSM sex slave as becoming one. I knew I needed something new in my life even if it was insane."

After a pause, Freya added, "Do you want to hear what happened Saturday?"

"Of course," I said.

Freya told the whole story, "We were all naturally tense standing there with our breasts on view for hundreds in the audience and thousands on the internet. I felt like the whole world wanted me screwed publicly. Yegor gave a long speech with the rules and a pitch for guys to sign up to sleep with the loser as soon as possible. I went into heat.

"Svetlana, as I mentioned, was dressed with little more than what we had on. I think she's not lying about having submissive feelings herself. She asked polite questions of Brigit and made small talk with me. She again lit into Sofia for no apparent reason.

"Sofia seemed particularly unapologetic. I did not understand what she and Svetlana hissed at each other in Russian but they stopped just short of spitting.

"The big red button was pushed. I was happy to see that I would not be the seventh woman this time that put on the sex show."

"You watched the rest from the booth?"

"No, no, I was one of the six in the nude round. The seventh woman was the Security Police agent, Toma. She went at it with a passion. It seemed she was happy to be out of risk of becoming a slave and gave the stage sex all she could give it. I think she copied her screams from what she'd heard during the Security Police interrogations. I'm kidding, I don't know. You'd know all about that."

"Yes," I said, "I know too much about the Security Police and even what Toma sounds like when she comes. She did not need our help to learn how to scream. Who else was in the final?"

"Me, Sofia, Sarah, Brigit, Larisa and Beatrix, the member of parliament. We all stood around nude until Toma had gotten done screaming whatever she was screaming in Russian. Yegor babbled a while again about how good we'd all be in bed. I worried that I was going to die of waiting for Yegor to push the button again. But the tension was not relieved after the numbers were flashed by the machine. It was me and Sofia."