Nordic Bound

by Henry Morgan

  Justin waved away the suggestion, his face contorted by the pleasure of his impending release. ‘She’s going to swallow my spunk before I fuck her,’ he groaned.

  As David’s cock slipped smoothly between the girl’s well oiled lips Justin fired his jism into her mouth. She struggled to manage it all while behind her David pumped furiously, his pounding hips urged on ever more cruelly with strokes from Sabrina’s sjambok.

  ‘Ride her harder,’ she ordered coldly. ‘You fuck her good and hard or you’ll feel this whip across your back. Do you here me? Good and hard… Hard…’

  ‘Hard. You are hard.’

  David woke from his dream into a bright sunny cabin to find Mishka’s head bobbing in his lap and his erect prick embedded between her lips. The sunlight brought a sense of super-reality that dispersed his dream and calmed his overwrought mind. Mishka’s slavering tongue soothed him further and he flopped back down into a somnolent state to enjoy the warmth of her mouth. Outside his dreamworld he was the master, and his was the controlling word.

  Despite the approaching summer, daylight was still short and therefore the time available for travel was minimal. The trip to Murmansk for the Festival of the North would take two days at least, and an early start was important. Because of that, David forewent the added pleasure he usually derived from delaying his morning orgasm and ejaculated straight down the Lapp girl’s throat. His shudder woke the sleeping Teena.

  ‘Fire,’ he grunted as his orgasm subsided. Teena blinked lazily and turned as if to go back to sleep, when David’s hand connected with her bottom to emit a sharp slap. ‘Fire,’ he repeated.

  The girl rose and wobbled unsteadily towards the hearth where she prodded and studied the ash in the hope that it was still alight. David smiled at the handprint that stood out as clear as a tattoo on the young girl’s behind, and then he administered a similar slap to Mishka’s bottom and ordered breakfast.

  By the time he had dressed the fire was blazing once more and the table was laden with food. The girls had prepared a fish soup to provide instant internal warmth, along with lightly roasted caribou cubes. They speared the meat on long tines and dipped them in melted reindeer cheese to supply the energy and sustenance for the long journey ahead. The girls drank milk from wooden bowls while David fortified his with a large shot of vodka.

  When he had finished eating the girls were then allowed to dress. Although thick furs were required to combat the cold, beneath them David insisted on leather and silver jewellery studded with his favourite amber. Leather strips criss-crossed the length of their legs – from ankles to thighs. Bottoms and vaginas were left without any form of covering for easy access, but tummies and breasts were also constrained beneath tight thongs. Necks were concealed under heavy collars and across their forehead each girl wore a band adorned with a large amber bulb, which held back their black hair.

  The fire was allowed to fade and die while the snowmobile was prepared. A trailer loaded with supplies was hooked up and David’s rifle was stored within easy reach – an insurance policy against curious and peckish polar bears.

  Although the festival was mainly a celebration of the forthcoming summer it brought thousands of revellers to the town, which made for profitable trading. It was here that David made most of his money, and this season looked to be a profitable one. The summer months were spent on the Baltic coast searching for amber, which the girls polished throughout the winter. While they prepared the semi-precious stones David spent his time hunting the migrating caribou, the Arctic fox and other animals – their flesh to eat, their glorious winter coats to trade.

  With the girls seated behind him he gave the cabin one last look, and headed into the forest.

  Chapter 2

  Room eleven of the Hotel Romanov resounded to the swish of a cane being applied to the flawless brown skin of a Pakistani girl.

  Sabrina lay face down, spread-eagled and tethered on the high bed, each wrist and ankle held firmly by a silk scarf to a respective post. Justin unleashed another stroke and a stinging red line jumped immediately to view on the girl’s taut buttocks. As her body jerked and writhed on the bed, wracked with delicious pain, her moist sex came into view, and Justin tapped it with the tip of the rod. The thin cane parted the puffy lips and slipped easily between the shaven curtains.

  ‘Leave my cunt alone!’ barked Sabrina. ‘I told you to stripe my bottom.’

  Justin brought the tip of the cane to his face and examined the secretion that coated it. It was the result of her excitement and Justin smeared the slick cream on her backside before bringing the cane down once more. She managed to endure two more strokes before shouting, ‘Iceberg!’ which was the control word for him to stop, so he placed the cane on a sideboard and released her bonds.

  She remained in position, her body gently gyrating and pressing into the bed, while he went into the bathroom to relieve himself, and the sound of his piss hitting the porcelain was joined by Sabrina’s muffled cry of orgasm.

  He zipped his fly and entered the bedroom, to see the girl relaxed almost to sleep on the bed, her hips still rising and falling gently as if she were milking the last droplets of sperm from a lover’s cock. He threw the towel with which he was drying his hands and face onto a tall, almost throne-like chair. ‘Why do you do it?’

  She ignored his question and continued her movements. Justin sat on the edge of the bed, and took a jar of cream from the bedside cabinet. It contained a soothing balm, which he applied to her throbbing wounds. ‘Is it the pain?’

  She nodded. ‘It’s the pain.’ After a moment she added, ‘but not just the pain.’

  ‘Then what?’ he asked. ‘What makes you put yourself through that?’

  The girl reached out for a bottle of vodka, realised it was out of reach and snapped her fingers and pointed for Justin to get it. He poured a large measure onto several ice cubes, added some tonic, and dropped in a slice of lime. She took it from him and quenched the thirst the beating had induced.

  ‘You should know,’ she answered. She took another drink, waved away his hand and turned over to sit up. The balm had not taken away all the sting, and the pretty girl winced when her tender bottom pressed into the bedclothes. ‘Don’t you remember my first night at Camelot, after you’d shaved me?’

  Justin looked down to see her sex, which she still kept smooth. Two tigers rampant guarded the exclamation mark that was her vagina, one facing the other on either side of her lips. Justin still remembered David’s rendering of Blake’s poem as he tattooed her bare mound. ‘Tiger, Tiger, burning bright,’ he had recited, and all the time the hum of the pneumatic tattooing pump accompanied his words.

  ‘I remember,’ he said. ‘I was very nervous.’

  Sabrina laughed. ‘You were nervous? I was stripped in front of two men I didn’t know. I was shaved, and I was beaten. It was so humiliating.’ She looked down ruefully at her quim. ‘You even tattooed my cunt.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Justin defensively. ‘David did the tattooing.’

  ‘And you let him,’ she countered forcefully.

  Justin resented the way Sabrina spoke to him. After all, without him David would have finished her training and she would now be living in Rawalpindi, married to Sunil. Since he had rescued her she’d grown very confident, so much so, she was becoming arrogant and bossy. Nonetheless, he knew she liked the humiliation as much as the pain, and that’s why he asked her why she liked being caned.

  ‘From the first stroke of that sjambok,’ Sabrina whispered, ‘I was hooked. The humiliation of being naked and caned. The way I had no choice but to suck David’s cock.’

  ‘I knew you liked it,’ said Justin. ‘The first time I rubbed the cooling cream into your bottom I noticed you shiver with pleasure.’

  The girl shuffled off the bed and jiggled to the bathroom. At the door she bent over, grabbed her ankles and peered at Justin between her leg
s. He marvelled at her lithe body.

  ‘I never thought I could feel so good,’ she said. ‘Whether I’m giving it or taking it, I just fucking love it.’ With her head still between her legs she blew him a kiss, then stood up straight and carried on into the bathroom where she squatted on the toilet to piss.

  Justin was rummaging through his wardrobe when a knock came at the door. Despite the naked Sabrina being clearly visible in the bathroom he called for whomever it was to enter. A young waiter came in carrying two breakfasts on a silver tray, and without being directed he placed it on a table by the large window that looked out over Mandelstam Square.

  Sabrina trotted out and snatched a piece of toast, looked down on a fur-clad queue outside a butcher’s shop, and turned to the waiter, uncaring of her naked state. ‘Do you know where we can find amber to buy?’ she asked.

  If the waiter enjoyed the sight of the naked girl he didn’t show it. ‘Amber?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, amber,’ Sabrina replied curtly. ‘You know, precious stones, Baltic gold, that sort of thing.’

  ‘This is not the Baltic, madam. This is the Barents Sea.’

  ‘Spare me the geography lesson. Is there a place here that sells amber?’

  This time the waiter took a long look at Sabrina’s body in an attempt to embarrass her for the way she had spoken to him. He allowed his eyes to dwell between her legs for several seconds, but his efforts failed and after a pause he answered her question. ‘There is a Gorky’s Trading Post near the port. You can catch the tram. It will take you there.’

  Sabrina dropped the toast and picked up a pair of knickers to put on. The waiter left.

  ‘What now?’ asked Justin.

  Gorky’s Trading Post leant lazily against its neighbours in a rundown street heading to the main port. It possessed a window on either side of the entrance, but if they were intended to offer a tantalising glimpse of the goods inside then an occasional clean was desperately in order. Even the snow that gathered in the corners of the frames was covered in the inescapable grime of the industrial town.

  Justin pushed at the door and he and Sabrina entered into a large dimly lit shop. Its main function was as a chandler and the whole interior – walls, floors and shelves – were laden with goods required by the northern seafarers. The pair ambled amongst the ropes, oars and electronic gadgetry searching for signs that David had been in to trade.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Justin, ‘just bits for boats. I reckon he must have gone south, maybe Moscow. After all, that’s where you saw the amber jewellery.’

  ‘That’s just where it ended up. It’s probably on sale all over the place. But that man in the store knew it came from the north.’

  ‘So what?’ Justin put in. ‘How do you know it was from him?’

  Sabrina pulled the bag off her shoulder, opened the zipper and pulled out the largest piece of amber Justin had ever seen. Light seemed to glow from inside it, sending golden rays against the dim walls. It wasn’t just a bulb or cut into a diamond shape; it was worked into the most intricate design and one that Justin recognised instantly; it was two rampant tigers. A perfect facsimile of the two animals Justin had watched his friend tattoo on Sabrina’s shaven sex.

  ‘Where did you get that?’ he asked.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ She held it up to an oil lamp and admired the swirl of light as the precious stone bent and twisted the soft flame. As her gaze narrowed she smiled faintly and added, ‘and accurate.’

  Justin repeated his question, disturbed and a little angry that she hadn’t confided in him.

  ‘I bought it in GUM’s. The moment I saw it my heart missed a beat. I knew David had made it; it’s so obvious; as clear as the stone itself. He might as well have left his photograph with the price tag.’

  Still put out Justin added, ‘So where was I? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Sorry?’ she bit back. ‘And there is some rule written somewhere which says I have to tell you anything? Some rule I don’t know about?’

  Justin backed down and said no more.

  ‘I thought not.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘Not when I make the rules.’

  An uncomfortable silence descended, to be broken by Andrei Gorky, the proprietor. ‘So, you have the tigers,’ he smiled. ‘I never thought I would see them again. May I?’ He took the golden sculpture and held it up. ‘It is so beautiful I could have sold it a thousand times over, but he would only make the one—’

  ‘Who would?’ interrupted Sabrina.

  Andrei handed back the tigers and threw back a tarpaulin that hung against one wall. It revealed another room stuffed to the rafters with furs, ivories and jewels.

  Sabrina entered the Aladdin’s cave and ran her hands over a Siberian tiger pelt, while Justin let out a long appreciative whistle. ‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘Where did all this stuff come from?’

  ‘It’s a trading post,’ grinned Andrei. ‘You work it out.’

  Sabrina was rubbing her face into the albino tiger fur looking very pleased with herself. She felt her prey was within her grasp; sooner rather than later David Harper would again be shackled at the end of a leash. ‘Who sells the amber?’ she asked.

  The Russian walked across to a glass cabinet that contained a large display of the golden stones. ‘I don’t have just one supplier,’ he said. ‘But I know the man you are talking about.’ He picked up a large piece of red amber shaped like a pineapple. ‘He supplies me with the best amber I have seen.’ He held out the piece for them to admire.

  ‘David, is that his name?’ asked Sabrina.

  ‘Yes it is,’ said Andrei, surprised. ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘We’re old friends who lost touch. That’s why we’re trying to track him down.’

  Andrei laughed. ‘I hope you are not going to buy his amber. That’s my biggest earner.’

  ‘It’s not the amber,’ put in Justin. ‘We want him.’

  Sabrina quickly added that they wanted just to see him – to renew old friendships.

  ‘Then I can’t help you,’ said Andrei.

  ‘We can pay.’

  Andrei replaced the pineapple piece. ‘I am sure you can, but I simply don’t know where he lives.’

  ‘Then how do you do business?’ asked Sabrina.

  ‘Whenever he is in town he comes to see me. Otherwise…’ he shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Otherwise what?’ Sabrina’s short temper was beginning to reveal itself.

  ‘Otherwise, I guess he must be in his place near Lake Inan.’

  ‘Lake Inan?’ asked Justin. ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Isn’t this amber lovely?’ said Andrei.

  Sabrina recognised his game. ‘That’s a nice piece,’ she said. ‘How much is it?’

  ‘In dollars? Two hundred.’ He pointed further back in the cabinet and added, ‘but that one is an even better piece. Less flaws.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Three hundred.’

  Justin took Sabrina by the arm and took her aside. ‘We’ve found out what we want to know. He’s around that lake he said – Lake Inan.’

  ‘This isn’t sunny Derbyshire,’ said Sabrina sharply. ‘They’ve got lakes the size of Britain, let alone Derbyshire. What do you expect us to do, walk around the lake in an afternoon looking for him?’ She turned back to the Russian. ‘That is a nice stone. I think I will buy it after all.’

  The exchange was made, and as Andrei handed over the jewel he added, ‘maybe you want to find your friend more then I realised.’

  ‘I’ve paid the money,’ said Sabrina.

  ‘And you have the stone.’

  Sabrina sighed. ‘What more do you want?’

  The Russian looked her up and down but said nothing, until Sabrina opened her fur coat, rested her hands on her hips and pushed her breasts forward. Andrei moved to stand squarely in front of
her, a hand rose and rested gently on her left breast, his breathing becoming heavy and laboured. ‘Amber is so cold and hard to the touch,’ he rasped, and then squeezed the soft flesh of her breast hard enough to make her flinch with the pain. ‘Flesh is much softer and warmer.’

  ‘Now wait a minute,’ warned Justin. ‘What the hell do you think—?’

  ‘Quiet,’ ordered Sabrina, the discomfort in her breast stirring up familiar urges. ‘Andrei and I have things to discuss. Wait outside.’

  ‘I know exactly what he wants,’ said Justin. ‘And he probably doesn’t even know where David is.’

  Andrei’s gaze remained firmly fixed on Sabrina’s eyes, but he spoke to Justin. ‘You can stay if you want, but you won’t put me off this bitch. She needs a good leathering.’

  ‘Get your hand—’

  ‘Out!’ shouted Sabrina. ‘You can wait behind the curtain.’

  As Justin, sulking, made his way out of the alcove Andrei called after him, and with a sarcastic tone said he could look after the shop while he was busy.

  The curtain dropped, leaving a small gap that Justin felt compelled to peer through. Sabrina’s brown suede skirt was already removed and hung from the antlers of a stuffed reindeer, and she was still stood with hands on hips, golden thighs stretching up from knee length boots. A tiny triangle of white knickers covered what Justin had no doubt, was a sodden sex. Above her briefs a small area of flat tummy was visible before it disappeared beneath a fluffy white mohair top.

  Andrei hooked a finger into the top of the cotton knickers and pulled the material out an inch or two, then leant forward slightly and peered inside the girl’s underwear. ‘Oh,’ he said, smiling at her tattoo. ‘I see you know David very well indeed.’

  ‘Much better then you could imagine,’ she answered.

  Andrei stepped back and motioned for Sabrina to remove her coat. She did as he instructed before striking the same pose for him to enjoy, and behind the curtain Justin’s breathing matched the rasp of the man about to have sex with his partner.