Abuse of Power - Taken by the Karinovs (Dark BDSM Erotica) (8 page)

The dashing young lieutenant with the comforting hand told
Natalie that she would be free if only Vicky were to confess.
Unfortunately her sister was sticking to the ridiculous story that
Sergio Markov had supplied her with the drugs, and was being very
uncooperative. Her obstinacy was bringing this misfortune on poor
Natalie.

Natalie found it difficult to accept that Vicky was guilty,
but the lieutenant was very convincing - his hand so reassuring as
it rested on her thigh. And it did seem strange that Sergio had
planted the drugs – a fact the lieutenant was keen to
emphasise.

“For what reason would he do this?” the handsome young officer
had asked. “Hand over a fortune in narcotics to a woman he barely
knew without any means to recover it at the other end. Sergio
Markov hasn’t the resources to conspire in such an act. He has no
influence beyond the hotel he manages. It was insane to suggest he
was trafficking drugs. And now your sister is making wild
accusations of mistreatment. She is playing a very dangerous game.
It will not count in her favour when the case comes to court...
whereas a confession would almost certainly save her
life.”

He had let Natalie ponder this for a few moments then carried
on with his carefully worded speech.

“Have we mistreated you?” he quizzed sounded offended by the
suggestion. “A search was essential – you were found carrying
drugs. Did the chief of police violate you in any way? No! I was
there. I saw what he did. He treated you with the respect you
deserved. It grieves him that you are here, in a prison cell - but
sadly your sister has left him with no choice. Perhaps you might
have a word with her tomorrow. Try to make her see
sense.”

Then with a squeeze and pat at Natalie’s thigh, the lieutenant
took his leave having given Natalie plenty to think about – as if
she hadn’t already enough.

Natalie was fed reasonably well during the course of the day
and allowed to go out into a courtyard for a walk. Then she curled
up on the prison cell cot and cried herself to sleep. She was
nineteen, but she felt like a little girl – scared and alone in a
foreign land. She wished there was someone to cuddle up to – her
mum or her dad – her sister Vicky – or perhaps the handsome young
lieutenant who had stroked her thigh and made her pussy tingle
despite her fears and woes.

Yes – it was the lieutenant who dominated Natalie’s thoughts
as she finally drifted off to sleep – her head resting on an
imaginary broad chest and her body cradled by strong imaginary
arms.

‘
If only, if only, if only...’

In the morning Natalie felt much more optimistic. There was
hope – the embassy official was coming to see them - surely
everything would then be sorted out.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon when she was eventually
fetched from her cell and taken to a room. Vicky was already there,
sitting alone at a table.

They ran to each other and hugged with all their might,
relieved that if nothing else, the other was still alive. Natalie
cried into Vicky’s shoulder. She felt Vicky patting her back,
comforting her, though perhaps it should have been the other way
round.

“Are you all right,” Natalie finally managed to
ask.

Vicky tactfully declined to answer. She had very mixed
feelings about what had happened – the behaviour of the policemen
and her own reactions – her shocking degree of complicity towards
the end.

They were still wrapped in each others arms when the door to
the room opened and a flustered middle-aged man in a rather shabby
suit walked in. He was clutching a tatty old briefcase nervously in
his hand. This was their knight in shining armour – the
representative of Her Majesty’s government, who had come to sort
everything out.

“Miss Fullerton and Miss Fullerton, I believe. David Flashman,
assistant to the ambassador.”

He walked over to the women and put out his hand. The sisters
gripped each other tighter for a second then released their hold.
Each limply shook David Flashman’s hand – it was cold and clammy,
as unappealing as the rest of the man.

David Flashman registered their distaste with ease - it was a
reaction he was used to when confronted with attractive young
women. He hid his own feelings much better, a skill he had mastered
as a youth and had served him well in the diplomatic service. He
tried to put the women at ease.

“Yes, I know. Bloody silly name for a chap who looks like me,
but what can one do. It’s my name and I have no intention of
changing it. Now, shall we sit down? I think you had best tell me
what this is all about.”

It was Vicky who did all the talking. Natalie had little to
say other than confirm a few of the facts and state she had not
been ill-treated – something she felt guilty of when put beside
Vicky’s tale of abuse.

Vicky spilled it all out, or at least a version that suited
her, from the planting of the drugs to the slaps across the cheeks
and the gratuitous fingering of her sex (although she omitted the
orgasm the chief had given her, which in her view was of no
consequence at all). Then she recounted in graphic detail the
horror of her oral violation – the device which had been used to
keep her mouth open and the size of each cock which had fucked her
throat. Again she did not think it necessary to add that she was
freed from the device early on in the process and had thoroughly
enjoyed the deep-throating each man had given her. She also omitted
the second orgasm that Dimitri brought her to, feasting on her cunt
with his devilish tongue whilst ploughing her mouth with his
beautiful cock which was a perfect size for the job.

David Flashman raised an eyebrow on hearing all of this.
Natalie looked at her sister stunned and hurt: it all sounded a
little far fetched – surely her handsome young lieutenant would
have had no part in that!

“Animals! Bloody animals!” screamed Vicky as she ended her
tale of woe. “So what are you going to do about it? I demand those
bastards be brought to trial.”

David Flashman clucked his teeth before delivering his answer.
“That could be a little difficult, Miss Fullerton. It’s the chief
of police who brings people to trial in this country, not the other
way round. Obviously I will report your accusations to the
ambassador who will raise the matter with the foreign secretary,
but...”

“But what!” yelled Vicky.

“But you must appreciate, and I am making no judgement, this
is the same story we get all the time from women caught smuggling
drugs. The drugs are always planted and the nasty foreign men are
always abusers who take advantage of their unwilling victims. I
suppose it’s true in some instances, but...”

“BUT WHAT!!!” screeched Vicky, rising out of her chair,
hysteria now setting in as she conveniently forgot about her own
whorish part in the events of yesterday.

“...But the chief of police! Really, Miss Fullerton!”
exclaimed David Flashman. “Chief Karinov is a well respected man,
not just in Mordavia where he is revered for his fight against
crime, but across the international stage. I’m afraid your
accusations would have had a little more credibility if you had not
chosen to include him in your lurid tale.”

“You bastard!”

“Calling me names will hardly help!” responded David Flashman
with a surprising degree of authority. Enough to shut Vicky up and
return her bottom to the chair. “Now you asked what will happen and
I will tell you plainly... I will make my report, and include what
you have told me. The wheels will then go into motion, but I fear
they will not be well oiled by your accusation of violation in the
most bizarre of forms. In the meantime, due process will take place
here. You are both under arrest – you, Miss Fullerton, face the
death penalty - the other Miss Fullerton could spend up to twelve
years in jail. We will question this man, Sergio Markov, but I do
not see there will be much to gain. He has no motive - he gave you
no contact in Britain to pass the package on to. It was for you
apparently – a very odd, but valuable gift. I suggest you take time
to consider. I’m sure the Mordavian police are not really
interested in you. They want the man behind the supply.”

“There is no man. It was Sergio.”

“Then you will be at the mercy of the Mordavian Court. We are
powerless to intervene in the legal system of another
country.”

“You will report this, though, won’t you?” pleaded Vicky.
“People in Britain will believe me. My parents, my friends, my
tutors – none of them will doubt I’m telling the truth. We must
fight this!”

“
I will submit my report, Miss Fullerton, and I will visit
again in a few days time. Good day to you both.”

David Flashman was met a few minutes later by Dimitri Karinov
who escorted him to his uncle’s office in the Police Headquarters
which also acted as a holding prison.

“Mr. Flashman, a pleasure to meet you again...” said Yuri as
he rose from his desk to shake David Flashman’s hand and slap him
heartily on the back. “...And under such regretful circumstances.
How did you find the two women?”

“As expected - they appear physically well. There was some
bruising on the older one’s face which would be cause for concern
if the press were to get hold of a snap, and some very disturbing
accusations concerning an outrageous contraption and penises of
extraordinary size. Naturally I will be submitting a report to the
ambassador. He may wish to come and see them for himself... the
girls that is, not the penises... as might a delegation from the
United Kingdom. Brussels may even elect to get involved, especially
in view of your application to join our illustrious European
Union.”

“I fail to see why that would be necessary,” Yuri gruffly
replied. “It is an open and shut case. She was carrying drugs – she
admits this. Our laws are very simple where such a crime is
concerned. She was responsible for her luggage – end of story. And
as for these minor bruises which she obtained whilst resisting
arrest – hardly a cause for international concern.”

“A report must be submitted, you know that Chief Karinov. I
have my duty, as do you.”

“Of course, my dear friend, of course - I fully understand.
Now, before you leave and compile this report, there is something I
would like you to see. A new punishment we are experimenting with,
in the never ending battle against crime.”

“Really. I’m not sure if I can spare the time... What sort of
punishment?”

“The sort that prevents young women from ever offending again.
There is a delectable young trollop who was caught begging from a
tourist. I was just about to witness her flogging.”

“Oh! Well... I’m sure I could squeeze a few minutes. How old
did you say the wench was?”

“How old would you like her to be, Mr. Flashman?”

“I always thought that eighteen was a perfect age for the
correction of wayward girls.”

“
Dimitri! You heard our guest - delectable and eighteen. We
will be there in ten minutes. Make sure everything is in order for
our honourable representative of Her Britannic Majesty’s
government.

Twenty minutes later, David Flashman was sitting in an armless
easy chair beside his good friend, Yuri Karinov. Between them was a
table with two glasses filled with generous measures of cognac; a
couple of Havana cigars lay smoking in an ashtray. In front of them
stood a girl who looked a youthful eighteen, she was naked and
undeniably delectable. Dark skinned like all her compatriots, she
had shoulder length black hair and a pair of perky little breasts,
her figure was trim, and her cunt was framed by a silky black bush.
David wondered if she was still a virgin – not very likely was his
conclusion if she was under Yuri’s care.

The girl was shivering - she had just been doused by a bucket
of icy water. She stood shaking with cold and fear – her dark
nipples looking very erect.

“Part of the treatment,” Yuri explained. “We think the cold
heightens the senses, makes her all the more aware of her crime and
her punishment.”

‘Makes her look vulnerable and very enticing,’ thought David,
but he knew better than to say such things aloud in the presence of
the chief of police.

“We are now going to test out which instrument is the most
effective. The European Union is fanatical about standardisation,
so I thought that we should have a standard for corporal
punishment. It is an onerous task. Thankfully my nephew Dimitri has
shown a special interest - his devotion to duty is to be
commended.”

“Indeed!” replied David Flashman, tearing his eyes away from
the shivering girl to glance at the subject of Yuri’s admiration.
The young man was most certainly taking his duty very seriously. He
had stripped down to the waist, revealing a remarkable physique of
chiselled muscle which many of David’s colleagues in the British
diplomatic service would have found even more appealing than he did
the girl. He was arranging the equipment to be tested – an array of
spanking devices which David found fascinating – it was going to be
a very thorough test.

David took a sip of Cognac then placed his glass back on the
table, his eyes returning to the shivering girl before him. Then
his attention was taken when Yuri reached over and tapped his
arm.