Someone Elses Daughter (6 page)

Chapter Two

Borzov’s Daughter

I

Later that same night, in the early hours of the morning, Anna Borzov and her friends Nina and Renata were at a house party in one of Moscow’s smart new apartment blocks. The three girls had been celebrating Renata’s 23rd birthday in Moscow’s clubs, and they had met Raisa Poda in a bar. Raisa was a lecturer at Moscow University where Anna, Nina and Renata were students, and she had been lively company all night, cheerfully buying round after round of drinks. Her idea of a house party seemed to round the night off nicely. So they had all climbed into a cab and gone off in a tipsily good mood to fashionable Kropotkin Street.

The foyer of the building had been guarded by quite the most brutish concierge Anna had ever seen. That was quite something, considering some of the thugs her father employed. However, the door of the 5
^th
floor apartment door opened by a trim and handsome woman in her forties, fashionably clad and smoking a long black cheroot. “Hey, so you’ve arrived!” the woman said over the pounding music, kissing Raisa on both cheeks.

“Some more new friends for you, Tara,” Raisa said with a smile. “This is Anna, Renata and Nina. They’re a bit drunk.”

“All the better,” Tara said with a smile, exhaling pungent smoke and glancing at Anna. She pointed to an area beyond a low wall it the main lounge. “The drink is over there, and some pills too. Help yourselves.”

“I need to use the bathroom,” Nina said, and her eyes followed Tara’s pointing gesture towards a corridor on the opposite side of the room.

“There are only half a dozen other girls here,” Anna whispered to Renata as soon as they were out of earshot of the woman. “And I can see just four men.”

“It’s still early for a party like this,” Renata said with a shrug. “Get a drink.”

“This apartment won’t hold many more people.”

A man and two of the women were dancing on the polished parquet area beyond the seating. The lounge was already untidily littered with bottles, ashtrays and general detritus and, although the room was relatively large it was hardly a major party venue. The apartment was certainly expensively-appointed, though, with red, white and black decor in a trendy jazz theme: the mainly white walls were discreetly lit, with several black wall panels backing the white silhouettes of musical instruments - guitars, saxophone, trombone, a piano keyboard - and very trendy black and red furniture. Raisa was wandering round the room, kissing and greeting the women in turn and pausing to exchange banter with the men.

“Oh don’t worry, Anna. Raisa seems to know most people here,” Renata said, pouring a stiff vodka and surreptitiously slipping the nearly-full bottle into her coat.

Meanwhile, Nina was in the corridor looking for the bathroom. A door opened and a young man stepped out. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her. She recognised him immediately - Vadim Kasharin, a childhood friend and some time lover.

“Nina Vitsin? What the hell are you doing here?” Before she could answer, he dragged her into a bedroom and closed the door. “You know what kind of party this is?”

“What’s going on, Vadim?”

“The drinks are drugged, you stupid bitch. Later on, we’ll release canisters of knock-out gas in the main room. It’s a heist.”

Nina blinked in horror. She glanced round like a frightened rabbit. The room seemed just an ordinary bedroom, if rather more tastefully and expensively decorated than most. It was far better and more stylish than Vadim Kasharin’s apartment when she had known him before. “What’s a heist?” she asked weakly.

“For fuck’s sake. I could draw you a diagram, but it would be a very simple one. You girls have been lured here to be snatched and sold as whores. It happens all the time. Within a couple of days you’ll all be miles away from here, perhaps shipped to another country, working your butts off in brothels. Europe, Israel, Turkey... it’s anyone’s guess.”

“My God! Anna and Renata...” She tried to open the door but he pulled her way.

“No! The entrance door is guarded. I might just be able to get you out of here, but you’ll have to cooperate and I’ll need to get someone to help. Only you, not your friends.”

He reached for his cell phone and made a quick call. Nina watched as he spoke quietly into the phone, with one hand cupped around it: “In a couple of hours, come to the underground car park at 230 Kropotkin Street to collect a girl. I must finish my job here, so you take her and keep her for me. Okay?”

“Who was that?”

Kasharin turned to Nina and smiled slightly. “It’s all arranged,” he said. “You now just have to do as I tell you. And afterwards, we can be good friends again, uh?”

At that point the door handle turned with a rattle and Nina stifled a startled yelp. A man called: “Kasharin, are you in there?”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Kasharin put his finger to his lips to hush Nina to silence and then called: “I’m fucking one of the new cunts. Is there no privacy anywhere?”

The man cursed gruffly but he went away.

“Get your clothes off,” Kasharin said urgently. “If anyone comes into the room they’ll need to see me fucking you. They’d expect that.”

Nina fumbled for her handbag, reaching for her mobile phone. “I’ll ring Anna and warn her.”

“No!” Kasharin leaned over and took the handset from her, slipping into his pocket. “We’d both be dead. You can’t help your friends, Nina. Now strip.”

“You really intend to─”

“Either strip and fuck, or go out there and join your friends. They’ll make you a sex slave, a whore. Make a fuss, and they’ll kill you all, believe me. These people don’t leave tracks. Only I can get you out of here.”

Nina hesitated.

“Vadim?” There was a sharp rap on the door and a man’s voice in the corridor, different from the first.

“Yeah? I’m here, man,” Vadim called, reaching out grasp the low neckline of Nina’s top and simultaneously hooking his fingers into the front of her bra, and yanking hard to almost pull her from her feet as he tore both garments.

The door opened and a man looked in, looking first to Kasharin and then to Nina, who was cringing back in shock with her arms across her bare breasts. He said: “Just thinking of your cock, as usual. Don’t mess this one up. You’d better be ready to do some work when I give the word.”

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

The man looked once more to Nina, with her torn top and bra hanging uselessly, and he shook his head. “Don’t let her go back to the party like that and spread alarm to the others. Bring her out later.”

With that, the man closed the door. After a few seconds, Kasharin said quietly to Nina: “These are seriously nasty bastards. You must do as I say.”

“My blouse and bra...”

“You won’t need them. Trust me.”

Kasharin smiled grimly and went to the
en suite
bathroom. Nina heard water running, reminding her of her urgent need to use the lavatory. Kasharin returned with a wet towel and laid it on the floor at the foot of the door, sealing the gap. “This should stop the gas getting in here. Take your clothes off. We have to be ready.”

“How do I know I can trust you, if you work with such people?” she said, stepping from her short skirt.

Kasharin shrugged, eying her appraisingly as she stood in opaque tights, knickers and with the tattered top and bra hanging aside from her shoulders. He said: “What more have you got to lose? This is your one chance. Are you still living at the same place, by the way?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Take off the rest...”

She sighed and shrugged off her the torn and bra, walking towards the bathroom as she tossed the ruined garments aside. “I need to pee,” she said.

In the bathroom, Nina removed her tights and panties, and then sat on the lavatory basin. She ran a hand through her blonde hair, trying to make some sense of the situation. There had to be some other way out of this! When she returned naked to the bedroom, Kasharin was naked too. He stood in the centre of the room, holding his erect cock in his hand. He glanced at her naked body. “I see you’ve still got a full bush,” he said.

Nina glanced down at the thick thatch of dark blonde pubic hair at her groin. How was she to answer a comment like that?

“Come and suck my cock,” he said.

“No!”

“Do it,” Kasharin said.

Nina gulped and hesitated, but she eventually stepped forward and sank to her knees in front of him. She had sucked his cock before, after all, when they had a short but intense fling as young teenagers. Tentatively licking at the long, turgid cock, she reached to wrap her hand around its base. No stranger to cocksucking, and not averse to it either in normal circumstances, she opened her mouth and took the cock into her mouth. As she pressed her tongue up under the shaft, she could hear the relentless beat of the bass of the music from the main room. There was nothing she could do to help or even warn Anna and Renata. Furthermore, she was by no means certain that she was herself safe from abduction. Vadim Kasharin’s hands were holding her head, pulling her onto his cock. So she applied herself assiduously to sucking Kasharin’s cock. He pushed himself deeper, all the way to the back of her throat. Nina resisted the instinct to gag even though bile rose in her throat. However, he pushed on until her nose nuzzled the wiry hair that covered his belly. Nina consciously relaxed and fought to maintain some control over her senses. His cock was plugging her throat and she could no longer breathe. He held that position for longer than she would have wished. Then he pulled back out of her throat and back into her mouth.

“Suck me, Nina,” he said with a strained gasp. She complied, using her lips and her tongue, bobbing her head back and forth, her lips tight around his shaft. “Yeah, that’s nice... you always were a good cocksucker,” he said contentedly.

After some minutes, Kasharin withdrew his cock from her mouth, obviously needing a respite. Nina wiped the back of her hand across her lips and looked up at him, half-hoping that this had satisfied him. It was all so surreal. Anyway, she had no choice in the matter, for he was dragging her to the bed. Nina squealed. For a so-called saviour, he was certainly rough and uncompromising with her as he thrust her face down over the foot of the bed. His fingers thrust inside her cunt, and she rocked back and forward on them, forcing away the feelings of guilt at her abject cooperation. He pulled out from her sodden flesh and she waited, her head in the coverlet of the bed, expecting his cock to replace the fingers in her cunt. Then, though, she felt the cheeks of her arse prized apart. She heard Kasharin spit and felt the saliva dripping on her anus, and his hard fingers were rubbing it round the swirl of the tiny mouth.

“No,” she said. “Not there.”

His hand dipped to her sex again, and she shuddered.

“This is how new whores are usually fucked,” Kasharin said. “It lets them know they are owned.”

Nina squealed, but he pressed her face into the yielding mattress to stifle her cries. She felt the head of his cock pushing against the tight opening, and she tensed the muscle there, trying to resist him. However, he merely increased the pressure, nuzzling hard, and then easing back and ramming forward. Nina groaned. It was no use; the sphincter gave way and his cock slid inside her, too strong for her to resist. He reached around and touched her cunt, his fingers probing for the clitoris that had begun to throb. The walls seemed to shudder with the loud music. He started to ease smoothly back and forth, keeping time with the thudding beat of the bass music, thoroughly defiling her arse, stretching and filling her anal canal with fiery but erotic pain until she could only squeak with each thrust. Ultimately, Nina felt his body go rigid, and she fancied that she could feel him empty himself deep inside her. When he finally withdrew, she remained kneeling at the foot of the bed, feeling the searing pain in her arse. However, he roughly grasped her arm and hauled her onto the bed.

“You’ve never been fucked there before?”

“No,” she said, keeping her head buried in the covers.

“Good,” he said.

She remained thus for a few minutes, aware that Vadim was dressing behind her. Suddenly, the music stopped. The abrupt silence was so marked that it made Nina look up. Then she could hear other movements outside. “What’s happening?”

“Feign unconsciousness,” he whispered urgently. “And don’t show any sign of life until I get you out of here. Don’t ring the police when you get away, or it’ll end in everyone getting killed. Someone will come and collect you from the car park.”

“Vadim, have you finished fucking that slut?” a man called as the bedroom door opened, pushing aside the wet towel. When the man looked in, he pushed aside the gas mark he was wearing and said: “It’s time.”

Kasharin laughed and sat up on the bed. Nina felt him lift her arm and she kept it limp when he dropped it back on the bed. “She’s out from the drugged drinks, Yuri. I’ve made sure with an extra dose. What about the rest?”

“A couple of the cunts caused some problems when they realised what was happening. The gas soon got them, though. Everyone is knocked out for an hour or more.”

“I’ll bring this one,” Vadim said, pulling on a gas mask.

Nina allowed Kasharin to hoist her naked body over his shoulder and carry her from the room. Her head hung down behind his back as he carried her into the lounge, but she dared a peek. The horrifying scene ensured that she remain still and pretending to be out cold. It was carnage in the lounge, with comatose young women littered all over the room. Most of the unconscious girls were already naked and the others were being roughly stripped. Tara and three men wore gas masks, just like Kasharin. Nina’s lungs were almost bursting, but when she did try to suck in some air, acrid fumes caught at her throat.

Three large laundry trolleys had been wheeled into the room, and four men were working to dump the women into the plastic bins. Anna was being grasped by the hair and hoisted into a sitting position as Kasharin stepped over her and flipped open the lid to the laundry bin nearest to the door. He dumped Nina unceremoniously into the bin.

“Wait, put this one in there too,” one of the other men said, pulling the prone body of a small red-haired girl. Kasharin nodded. He stooped to grasp the girl by her ankles and helped the man to lower her into the bin on top of Nina. “Two more for the circus,” the man said, throwing discarded clothing on top of them before flipping the lid shut.

Lying in the bin, afraid to breathe, Nina waited blue in the face until the lid closed above her before squirming under the dead weight of the unconscious nude girl and trying to get some ease. She felt the lurch of the trolley and knew that it was moving. Then the forward movement of the trolley halted for long seconds before Nina experienced being spun around and moved in the other direction. It stopped with a jolt. Only when she heard the familiar hum of an elevator mechanism did she dare to suck in air. After more lurching movement, the lid was flipped open again and Kasharin peered into the bin. “Quickly,” he said. “Get out of there.”

Nina struggled to push the unconscious girl aside, standing on her to clamber over the high sides of the bin. She looked round and found herself in a large underground car park. Two large black vans stood nearby, their rear doors wide open with ramps in place.

“Where can I go? I’m naked.”

“Hide somewhere down here until everyone has gone. Someone will come to collect you,” he said, closing the lid and pushing the trolley to the nearest van. “Don’t try to leave before then. It’s the best I can do.”

“What about my friends?”

He paused to give her a quizzical look and then pushed the trolley up the ramp into the van. “Hurry and hide, the elevator is coming down again,” he said.

Nina dashed as far away from the lifts as she could before the lift doors opened. She dived behind a concrete pillar shielded from view by an old Zil sedan, and peeked over as the men loaded the laundry trolleys into the black vans. Her knuckles flew to her mouth as she realised that the trolleys contained her two unconscious friends and the other unwitting women. After a while the vans were driven away, sweeping out of the underground car park, one behind the other. Vadim Kasharin, Nina noted, was actually driving one of the vehicles. Then some of the other men returned to the elevator, presumably to go back up to the apartment, and it seemed an age before they returned with Tara. Nina’s flesh was thoroughly chilled by the cold night air and her teeth were chattering by the time that Tara and the remaining men climbed into their cars. She scurried to hide behind another car when one of the men headed for the battered Zil. Then they left in convoy, three cars together, nose to tail, and Nina was left alone, naked, in the car underground park.