Gregor absorbed the news that his parents had moved without even telling him. Apparently, they left soon after committing him to the Order and told no one what they had done. Ivan had no idea. His cousin listened to the story Gregor told over his bowl of hot cereal. He perked up a little after eating, but his tale was one that could not be told in a few short sentences. As Ivan learned what his aunt and drunken uncle had done to his little cousin, he became angry. Ten years Gregor rotted away inside the walls of that cult. That’s what everyone in town thought of that place. They all knew it to be an extremist sect that most suspected was responsible for many a missing teenager; especially young girls.
“Those bastards!” Ivan’s fist hit the tabletop causing everything sitting on it to rattle. Gregor jumped, as did Ivan’s wife, Nina. Gregor stole looks at her, noting how lovely she was with her curly black hair and big brown eyes. His cousin was very lucky to have a woman of his own, one he could experience the pleasures of the flesh with as he pleased.
However, Gregor couldn’t disagree. He’d long ago let go of any feelings he had for his parents, good or bad. He barely remembered them except for odds and ends memories of hard times. “It’s in the past, cousin. What matters is now.” He’d cleaned his bowl and consumed two hot rolls slathered in butter. Nina refilled his cup with the fresh milk collected from their dairy cow.
“Da, I know this, but I’m still angry. What they did to you was not right. Not right at all.” He sighed. “Well, you’ve had one hell of a journey to get here. And I’m glad you did. I just wish you’d come to me sooner.” Ivan stood up, his chair scraping the floor as he pushed it backwards. “Let us just get you clean and into bed. Today, you rest. Tomorrow, I show you my farm, and we begin to build you a new life. I can always use help here, and you are welcome for as long as you need me, cousin.”
Gregor had to hold back the tears his cousin’s words brought to his eyes. It had been a very long time since he felt the love of family. In fact, besides one or two very early memories of his mother, and summers with his cousin’s family, he’d barely experienced it at all. “I’m ever grateful to hear that, Ivan. I won’t let you down, and you’ll not be sorry for taking me in. I’m a hard worker.” Gregor stood, and followed Ivan as he led the way to the back of the house, and into a guest room.
“I’m sure you are, Gregor. You’ve grown into a strong and fine young man despite your circumstances. Here, let me get you some things to wear. They may be a bit large, but that should be okay until Nina and I can take you into town for a little shopping.” Ivan left Gregor standing in the middle of the cheerful room. A large bed with a colorful quilt dominated the center space. A window with bright curtains let the morning sunshine in bouncing off the shiny wood surfaces of the dresser and chest of drawers. A rug ran along the side of the bed covering the wood floors. It was warm and inviting, and finer than anything he’d ever had before. A tear ran down his cheek.
“Here. Try these after your shower. It’s right across the hall. You remember.” Gregor thanked his cousin as he took the stack of clothes into his arms.
“Spasiba, Ivan.” He could barely get the words out. Ivan stood there and watched as his cousin, who used to spend summers with him here when his parents ran the farm, walked across the hall and looked around the bathroom like he’d never seen one before. He couldn’t fathom parents who would put their child into some lunatic religious sect, giving him up. Why had they not simply sent Gregor to his parents? The life he must’ve led could not have been easy.
Gregor dropped the clothes onto the countertop and started pulling his robe up over his head. It was then that Ivan saw the macabre mapping of scars on his cousin’s back. His mouth fell open in shock. Unaware, Gregor reached into the shower and found the handle to turn on the water. He shed his dirty underwear and stepped in. The offensive scars were no longer in view.
Rage bubbled up inside Ivan and he walked straight out into the kitchen and hugged his wife. He wanted to cry for his cousin but grown men didn’t cry. He wanted to punch something, anything, but that would not help. He vowed he would do everything he could to help him. Nina waited patiently for her usually happy husband to calm down, and when he told her what he’d seen, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and said, “we will help him, my darling. He’s home now.”
Ivan buried his face in his wife’s hair and inhaled. He knew how lucky he was, but in that moment, he truly appreciated just how fortunate he’d been being his parents’ son and being Nina’s husband. Gregor never knew these things. Well, maybe briefly when he’d visit each summer as a kid. His parents loved him. Gregor’s mother was his own father’s only sister. She’d married a worthless man. Everyone in the family knew he was a drunkard, but Emily would not listen to reason. She thought herself in love back then. She suffered for her mistake in judgment thereafter. Boris Koslov was a no-good fool. His name should have given it away if his aunt Emily had been a little smarter; Koslov was Slavic for goat or goat herder. Hell, if only he’d even worked doing that instead of living life as an unskilled, lazy bastard, he would not have been so bad, even as a drunk. Being a drunkard could be forgiven if that man at least worked and took care of his family. Every summer they would come stay with Ivan’s family and help work the fields. For this, his papa would give them some money, and load his little sister down with vegetables and preserves she helped pick and prepare. He would slaughter a pig and offer, also, a goat that they could keep for fresh milk, and to send to slaughter later in winter when the weather turned for the worse. Sadly, it was later learned that Boris, the selfish Slav, would sell the goat and the pig meat and then drink the money away. Emily had to take in laundry to make ends meet, and they still didn’t. Sometimes, when Boris was really pissed, he would take Gregor into the village and make him beg for coins. If he refused or didn’t collect enough, Boris would beat his son bloody. It really should not have been so surprising that he handed Gregor off to that damn sect. Ivan figured he probably sold the boy. Boris never ‘gave’ anything away.
He could not erase the past, but he was determined to help his cousin build a better future. No one should grow up feeling unloved. He hoped to set the proper example for his own children someday. He and Nina had been trying for the past six months, but nothing yet. He knew, though, that God would see his good deeds, offered out of love and duty, and would reward him soon with a son or daughter of his own. It was certainly no coincidence that Gregor had come to him, the one person in the world he remembered with love. So it would be in love in which he would help him.
“I’ll be back.” Ivan let go of Nina and headed toward the front door.
“Where are you going, moя lyubovyu?” (my love) She turned and inquired of his sudden departure.
“To the church to give thanks to God for sending Gregor home, and to light a candle and make an offering.”
He grabbed his coat and threw it on as he walked out, closing the door behind him. Nina smiled. She was proud to be Ivan’s wife, but at this moment, she wished she could shout it from the rooftops. He never hesitated to help someone in need, and family was a priority for him. He would make a wonderful father – very soon. She simply wished to wait a little while longer to tell him...just to be sure.
IVAN ENTERED THE CHURCH three blocks away. Inside, it was far warmer, and a few faithful were kneeling in prayer in the pews closest to the altar. He stepped over to the side wall altar and placed a few coins in the offerings box. Feeling it wasn’t quite adequate, he pulled some bills out and stuffed those in, too. Then he lit a candle and knelt in prayer. He thanked God for Gregor’s homecoming, and also for the opportunity to do His work. He prayed for his parents who were now old and living in a small apartment in the center of town where they could get around easily. He thanked God for the harvest he brought in over the summer, and for Nina. He prayed she would finally conceive so that he might fulfill the Almighty’s command to be fruitful and multiply. He remembered to also thank his heavenly father for everythi
ng he did not grant Ivan because it was not part of His plan for his faithful son. He made the sign of the cross, and stood, backing away from the mini altar respectfully before turning around and leaving the church.
Thinking of his parents, he decided to visit them and share the wonderful news about their nephew. He headed north toward town center, stopping along the way to pick up some bread and beef and cabbage stew from the Inn across the street. It was his mother’s favorite, and he never came to visit empty-handed. He felt so happy, he asked that they add a few slices of chocolate cake, and a bottle of Vodka - the cake for his mother (who had a sweet-tooth), and the Vodka for the men to make a toast to family. His spirits were high, and happiness occupied his gentle heart.
GREGOR DRESSED IN THE clothes Ivan provided, feeling over-dressed after so many years of wearing nothing but the woolen robes. For the first time in as many years, he felt warm. The jeans were a bit big, but with the belt, were fine. The dungaree T-shirt and flannel shirt embraced him like a warm hug. They even smelled like his cousin making him smile. Socks on his feet were also a luxury he hadn’t experienced since he was a child. The Order members wore work boots purchased from a second-hand shop near town, and socks were never part of their wardrobe. New underwear was not provided, either. The clean white cotton covering was like the most valuable of gifts. He put on his old work boots since they were the only shoes he owned and walked out into the living room.
Nina was cleaning. He saw her bent over dusting the tabletops. That was why everything shone to a high gloss. She was a good homemaker. Her hips wiggled in her jeans as she hummed a tune to herself. Her rounded derriere swayed. Gregor felt the crotch of his jeans tighten as he grew hard. His eyes glazed over as he recalled the feeling of a woman’s flesh against his own. He imagined her breasts bouncing around, also, as she rubbed the tabletop in circular motions. The idea caused him to reach down and place a hand over his burgeoning tent. Bad idea. His hand there felt good. Feeling ashamed for reacting this way over his cousin’s wife, he turned and walked swiftly to his room, shutting the door. Inside, he sat on the side of the bed trying to calm down. His cousin had been nothing but kind to him, and he would not reward that kindness by turning into an animal and harming Nina. He picked up one of his robes that was still folded from being packed and carried on his ten-mile journey and ripped it into strips. He braided them together and tied knots at the end. Then he removed his new shirts, his pants, and even his nice new underwear and kneeled down on the wood floors, careful to avoid the carpet runner, wearing only his socks. He offered Supplication for his sins and began flagellating himself. The wool was not as heavy as his old rope, but if he swung hard enough, the scratchy material began to do its duty. Like before, he could not clear his mind, and like before, the more he beat his back, the more pleasure he experienced. He made a mess on Nina’s clean floor. After using the rest of the ripped robe to mop up, he snuck across the hall and back into the shower. Afterwards, he stuffed the dirty robe and the evidence of his sin into the bathroom trash pushing it to the bottom. He decided to wait in his room until Ivan came to get him. That would be safest. And as soon as he could manage it, when he had enough money to begin a new life, he would leave.
He didn’t want to leave his cousin, but until he could get himself under control, he was a danger to Nina. Perhaps Ivan could help him get some kind of job where he would not have much contact with women, just until he could get it together. He lay back and thought about what kind of job that might be. Maybe as a sailor on a fishing boat. Women didn’t go out on those, only men. Yes. That would work. He’d ask Ivan when he came to get him. Relieving his mind of worries for the moment, Gregor fell asleep still bleeding a little, the red droplets staining his new dungaree T-shirt.
Chapter Three
BERLIN, GERMANY
Rain poured down washing the street clean along Tiergartenstrasse. Tourists ran for cover while native Berliners simply popped open umbrellas they carried with them knowing how the weather faired in September. It was cold and wet, and Elsa Kreiss shivered inside her police-issue dark blue jacket. She was assigned to patrol the streets after two and a half years of law enforcement classes and on-the-job training. She was one of the oldest rookies in the group having entered into this career path at the age of twenty-three. Most candidates began straight out of school, but Elsa had been busy caring for her younger brother, Anno, after the untimely death of their parents in an auto accident.
This meant providing for them both since there wasn’t much in the way of savings in their parents’ bank account, and funeral services weren’t cheap. It was left to Elsa, who was almost nine years older than her brother, to find a way to pay rent, utilities, and put food on the table. There weren’t many options open for a young girl of eighteen to make that kind of money, at least, not completely legally. Her friend, Hans, who graduated a year ahead of her, suggested she audition for the father of his lover at the time. He owned a club that catered to men who enjoyed bondage, games of dominance and submission. It wasn’t technically prostitution, which was legal, but it did involve some sick shit sometimes. The owner, Herr Arnold Hausmann, a German Jew, took one look at Elsa and immediately said no.
“She’s too young and inexperienced. I don’t have time for that.” He started to dismiss them, but Hans tugged at his lover’s hand forcing David to speak up.
“Vader, look again. She’s quite lovely. Surely there is something we can use her for. The women are always complaining about having to clean up their equipment. Hans and I can show her how to use the autoclave, and how to clean the instruments. It would get the dommes off your back about coming in on their days off to clean up.”
Herr Hausmann looked at his son. He sighed for the thousandth time thinking “Where did I go wrong to have such a woman for a son?” He loved his child. He was, after all, physically fit, handsome, intelligent, and seemed to have a knack for business, which boded well for the future of his enterprise, but he would never have grandchildren from David. He glanced at Hans who stood to the side, and behind his son. Hans was even more of a conundrum for Hausmann because the young man looked like some huge Gestapo agent until he opened his mouth, or walked, or even smiled. Then it was painfully obvious that he was a female trapped inside the body of a man. He could not, for the life of him understand the attraction men had for other men. In his day, gay people didn’t exist. If they did, they hid it well for fear of being ostracized by family and friends, by society in general. Not so, today. Today, being gay was like some badge of honor. Supporting gays had become a near-global trend. Men married men. Women married women. Herr Hausmann wept for the decline of traditional marriages when a penis was a penis and it went only into a vagina, and no one even mentioned those words. Shaking his head, he sighed, again.
He looked at Elsa. She was very pretty, and very young. Some men liked that. Still, he couldn’t turn her loose on any of his highbrow clientele. She wouldn’t know what she was doing, and it took a very strong level of confidence and knowledge to know how to inflict pain without harm. She’d be a liability as a dominatrix, but as basically a maid, she’d do. And the dommes would stop complaining to him all the time.
“All right. But she starts at the bottom, and you and Hans are responsible for her. She must learn to clean every single piece of equipment properly and quickly, and if she messes up, if even one of the dommes complains about her, that’s it. No job!”
He walked out and left them standing there. After the door closed, Hans grabbed Elsa up in his muscular arms and swung her around. “You got the job! Fantastische, mein Liebling!”
Smiling hugely and feeling as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, Elsa laughed, then kissed Hans on his cheek. “Danke, mein Freund! Danke, David!” Hans set her down and she hugged David, too.
“Don’t thank me yet. We have to work hard to make you the best maid these dommes have ever seen. And in between, we’re going to teach you the art of dominance and submission. It’s really t
he only way you’ll be able to make any real money to survive.” Hans was so happy to hear his lover say this that he kissed him full on the lips. It turned a little sloppy as they momentarily forgot Elsa was in the room.
“Geez, guys. Cool it down!” She laughed at their antics. Her friend was so in love with David, and so happy to be working with him at Club Sexo as a ticket agent, and now his best girlfriend would be working there, too. Hans was over the moon.
That’s how it began. She’d worked hard and listened to everything the guys taught her. David showed her how to hog-tie a man in a way that was painful and pleasurable, but not permanently damaging. He also secured Mistress Lena’s cooperation to allow Elsa to observe her work so she could learn how it’s done firsthand. In two years, she’d gone from maid to dominatrix. In another year, she was a top-draw attraction at the club and in high demand. Two years after that, she’d quit at the top of her game in the BDSM business after a life-changing event. Her brother, who meant everything to her, had been kidnapped by a known sex trafficking criminal and taken out of Germany to Amsterdam at the whim of a sick pedophile named Peter Knudson.
Everything changed then. The true miracle, however, was that they got Anno back before any harm could come to him. That never happens, according to Kriminalkommissar Joseph Heinz who was the lead detective on the case. Heinz used his connections through Interpol to help get Anno back. They wouldn’t have even known where to find him had it not been for new friends she’d made at the time, Sarah Brown and Paul Christiansen. Actually, it was because of the latter that Anno had been taken to begin with. The pedo was Paul’s uncle who’d sexually abused him as a child. It turned out that Knudson had targeted Anno on a recruiting mission in Berlin, and he blamed his nephew for causing him to lose out on gaining Elsa as an employee, a ruse he invented to get his hands-on Anno.
The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 23