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Subject: -Story THE NIGHT IS YOUNG - (mf, cons, pedo, incest)
Date: Mon, 06 Sep 2004 15:51:45 -0700
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-Story THE NIGHT IS YOUNG - (mf, cons, pedo, incest)
( A R U S S I A N S T O R Y, P A R T O N E )
Written by Silvio Stoker
Story_intro: "Karina and Daria had a lot in common. Both women had
gotten married as soon as they'd turned eighteen. Karina's father had
forced her to marry Sergei when he found out she was pregnant. Karina
was twenty-nine and had a boy and a girl - Yelena was eleven and Pavel
was eight. Daria was twenty-seven and had two daughters - Natasha was
almost nine and Svetlana was seven. The children attended the same
school - Svetlana was starting first grade, Pavel and Natasha were both
in second, and Yelena was in fifth."
Karina and Daria had a lot in common. Both women had gotten married as
soon as they'd turned eighteen. Karina's father had forced her to marry
Sergei when he found out she was pregnant. Karina was twenty-nine and
had a boy and a girl - Yelena was eleven and Pavel was eight. Daria was
twenty-seven and had two daughters - Natasha was almost nine and
Svetlana was seven. The children attended the same school - Svetlana was
starting first grade, Pavel and Natasha were both in second, and Yelena
was in fifth.
The first of September - the first day of classes - is quite an
occasion in Russia, with most parents dressing up their kids and taking
them out afterwards. Karina's husband had started drinking in the
morning, and by the time they took Pavel and Yelena to a café for ice
cream he was staggering drunk. Daria's husband was drunk, too, and her
kids had to go without ice cream - he needed the money for more vodka.
Daria and Karina were sipping a kiwi liqueur. Sergei and Dmitri, Daria's
husband, started talking to each other, and Karina and Daria looked each
other over.
Karina didn't have many friends. She was a vaginally virgin when she
met Sergei, and since getting married she'd only been penetrated by one
other man - Sergei's friend Fedya had raped her several times. She
hadn't told her husband - she was afraid he'd say it was her fault.
Maybe it was. She didn't struggle, and the second time he did it she
almost came, crying, opening her crooked mouth and letting him fuck it.
He'd make her suck it and then he would screw her, pulling out to put it
in her mouth. Karina would get sopping wet. She'd always been ashamed of
her wetness, and she hated her own taste. He was a lot bigger than her
husband, and he'd hold her by the hair. She had beautiful hair - wavy
white blond tresses that hung halfway down her back. He masturbated her
while he was using her mouth, rubbing her clit and sticking his fingers
in her fuckhole. He'd touched her shitter, too, teasing it with his
thumb when he fucked her from behind.
Karina had never really been made love to by a man - Sergei was always
rough with her - but she'd been abused and she'd done some very dirty
things before she lost her virginity. Her father was an officer in the
army, and when she was in sixth grade he was stationed in Saxony. She'd
made friends with a girl named Ilse Schumacher. Ilse was almost a year
older - she was thirteen - and sometimes they'd walk in the woods with
her brother. Dieter was only eleven. They built a sort of hut out of
fallen pine branches on the mossy forest floor. Karina had a crush on
Ilse. She was even jealous of how close she was to her brother - the
siblings touched each other a lot, and Ilse would even kiss him on the
lips. One day when they were in the woods, Ilse undid his pants. She'd
obviously done that before. Karina seemed reluctant at first, but she
knelt in front of him. The boy's penis glistened with his sister's
saliva. What excited her was knowing that it had been in the Ilse's
mouth - and then her friend touched her for the first time, running her
fingers through Karina's hair. Seventeen years later, Karina could still
remember Ilse's low whisper as if she had only just heard it. Ilse's
fingers were cool, almost cold. They felt ghostly against Karina's face.
The twelve-year-old tried to imitate her touch, her hand on the older
girl's shoulder. Ilse whispered to her to kiss it - she used the Russian
word for cock, "khui." It was maybe two and a half inches long. Dieter
held it in his delicate hand. Karina's German was poor - she'd only been
living at the base for a couple of months, and she went to a school with
other Russian children - but she knew that the words Ilse used were
dirty, and what they were doing was even worse than what Ilse was
saying. The German girl knew a lot of nasty Russian words, too - words
Karina had heard before. Karina had been with men. Ilse was breathing in
her ear. Karina kissed the boy's "khui," and Dieter took his hand away.
Her mouth was watering, and Ilse's whispers drove her wild. She licked
the underside of the little shaft, and Ilse's cheek brushed against hers
for a second. The boy put it in his sister's mouth, moaning softly at
the familiar sucking. Ilse was playing with herself.
Karina had only started masturbating when they moved to Germany, and
she felt really guilty about it. She did it in the bathroom, and once in
a while she would do things she was terribly ashamed of - she'd put her
toothbrush in her pussy, and when she was bathing she would sometimes
slide a soapy finger into her rectum. Karina was easily aroused. She
barely had hair, but she was already leaky. She thought she was sick,
but she was too embarrassed to talk to a doctor. She'd almost died of
shame the last time she'd visited a clinic. The twelve-year-old's
arousal was obvious. It started when she took off her blouse, and by the
time Dr. Vasilyeva told her to remove her skirt and panties, she was
leaking. Trembling, Karina finished undressing. Naked except for her
socks, she hid her soiled panties under her skirt, on the freshly waxed
floor. Dr. Vasilyeva was a military doctor - the clinic was for soldiers
stationed in Saxony and their families. She told Karina to put her skirt
and panties with her blouse. The girl's face was the color of a beet as
she walked unsteadily to the straight back chair and placed the skirt
and panties with the rest of her things. She was very thin, her fair
skin powder white in the powerful light. She had a hole in her left
sock. The tip of her longest toe peeked out. Her every rib was visible,
and her breasts were no bigger than a hard-boiled egg cut in two. She
didn't wear a bra yet. Dr. Vasilyeva glared at her and told her to lie
down on the padded table. Karina quivered when the doctor touched her,
spreading her skinny legs. From the way the twelve-year-old acted, Dr.
Vasilyeva expected to see signs of abuse. She wasn't wearing gloves. The
girl arched her back when the doctor spread her labia. She'd never been
touched there. Her little clitoris was fully erect, like her nipples.
Dr. Vasilyeva found the hymen intact. She looked at the child's anus,
lifting her leg. It was raw. Karina was crying. Just to be sure, the
doctor asked her if anyone ever made her do things she didn't want to
do. Karina was crying so hard she couldn't answer. She understood what
the doctor meant - Karina had been molested, and her father had warned
her about men.
She'd met a man at Patriarch's Ponds in Moscow before they moved to
Germany, when she was eleven years old. Her friend Alyona had talked to
him before - he lived in her building - and Karina noticed how nice
Alyona looked when she was... she was flirting with the man, drinking in
his compliments and fiddling with her flaxen hair, shifting her weight
from foot to foot, her legs long and skinny like Karina's. Alyona was
only eleven, too - she was several months younger than Karina, in fact -
but she acted almost like a teenager. The man looked old enough to be
her father, but Karina could tell that he enjoyed looking at her pretty
friend. She felt left out at first, but then the man began to ogle
Karina, too, admiring her white blond hair - she wore it in a pair of
thick braids that day - her timid, turquoise eyes and what he could see
of her delicate body. Both girls were wearing their white school blouses
and red kerchiefs, their blue skirts ending just above the knee. They
had undershirts on, but Karina was aware of the little anthills on her
washboard chest - they were growing already, very slowly, and sometimes
she would touch her nipples at night. They'd only stiffened in the cold
so far, never from arousal. She'd never been aroused until the man - his
name was Tovarishch Bakunin - started touching her friend. He ran his
fingers through Alyona's hair, brushing her cheek. Alyona blushed, but
she didn't back away.
The man had been with Alyona's sister. Alyona had seen Tanya leaving
Tovarishch Bakunin's apartment once, and she'd seen the look on her
sister's face. Tanya would tease their mother's boyfriends, and by the
time she turned fourteen she'd spread her legs for two of them. She told
Alyona about the first one - their mother's friend Ruslan - and
sometimes she'd talk about men being in love with her, but Alyona heard
Ruslan talking about her sister on the telephone. He said things that
made Alyona feel awful - Tanya was a tramp, and Ruslan had introduced
her to a Finnish man he'd met in the Arbat. She didn't understand at
first - she was in love with Ruslan then, and she didn't like the Finn.
She started crying when Ruslan lifted her skirt, pulling her panties
aside and showing the foreigner her pussy hole. The Finn took pictures
of her. Ruslan had always been rough with her, and sometimes he'd say
things that made her hurt deep inside. It hurt a lot more that night,
but the fourteen-year-old understood that she had to do what they said.
The foreigner had given Ruslan money. They made her masturbate, forcing
her to stick her fingers in her cunt and suck on her hand. She looked
like a marionette, her adolescent body responding to Ruslan's slaps and
pinches, desperate to avoid the more severe pain she knew was coming.
The Finn took close-ups of her anus. Her peridot eyes were murky with
humiliation when Ruslan said to play with it. He translated for the
Finn, giving her answers to his questions in broken English. How many
cocks had she had in there? Three. Only three? Everyone who'd ever
fucked her had done that. Ruslan made her tell him how many she'd had in
her mouth. Five. They made her speak in full sentences.
"I've had five cocks in my mouth," she whispered in Russian, sobbing.
Are you a whore? "Da." Ruslan slapped her little titties several times,
hard. Tanya's limbs jerked with each slap, her slender fingers balled
into fists. Full sentences. "I'm a whore." The Finn made her say it in
English. "I'm a whore." They made her stand up to undress. She almost
fell, stripping. The Finn's hands felt hot against her soft young skin,
his fingers invading her sweet wet mouth, salty, his other hand
squeezing her tits, caressing her taut stomach, returning to her breasts
to squeeze them harder, too hard, hurting her. She hated him, but she
had to obey him, the forefinger of her left hand in her musky anus. He
had to keep her finger in there. He said to. He kept saying to keep her
finger in her asshole. He didn't let her take it out until after she had
mounted Ruslan, his huge cock filling her cunt. Tanya was wet. She still
had her finger in her butt when he hit her with the belt. He said to
keep it in, but she couldn't. The leather cracked against her skinny
arm, and Tanya took the finger out, howling, shaking like a leaf, and
curling her toes in agony. Ruslan's cock was still in her cunt. She had
to suck on the finger she'd had in her rectum and slip it back in. The
Finn took a few pictures of her, telling her to stick a second finger in
her asshole. Tanya would do anything to avoid the whip. Finally he
squeezed cold lubricant onto her fingers, dangling the belt against her
thigh, threatening her. She couldn't stop crying, working her fingers
into her rectum. By the time he raped her bottom she'd gone limp. She
lost consciousness a couple of times, sandwiched, and after a while they
switched holes, Ruslan slamming her pussy while the Finn held her,
kneading her nipples, his penis deep in her ass.
What happened afterwards was what Alyona heard Ruslan say on the
telephone. He described it in detail - how she didn't struggle at all,
lying on the floor and fondling the dog's balls, rubbing her sore slit
with the fingers of her other hand. It belonged to Ruslan, part Labrador
retriever, and part Doberman. The Finn shot four rolls of film, stroking
himself while the teenager kissed it, running her tongue around the
knob. She took the dirty animal's dick into her mouth, her green eyes
foggy with shame. It wasn't that different from sucking a man, except
that there was so much more semen. She spat and coughed, her face and
chest dripping with the dog's come when she sat up and gazed at the
camera. The Finn fucked her again, on the floor. He slammed her, and
Ruslan got some shots of her writhing beneath him. He came in her cunt,
and then they told her to get on her hands and knees. Ruslan lubricated
the end of a broom handle. Tanya sniffled when he slid it into her
colon. She had to fuck on it for what seemed like forever. If she
stopped, it went in deeper - so deep she thought she would die. Now and
then they'd put it in her mouth and rape her from behind. It wasn't
really rape anymore - the girl was gone, her adolescent body a
mechanical doll's, her little brain drowned in fuck. She bucked against
the broom because she had to, but after a while they didn't need to tell
her what to do. She sucked on the slimy handle and lifted her ass when
she felt the wet wood against her buttocks, grasping the shaft and
guiding it into her butt, sucking whatever was offered, whimpering,
wide-eyed, licking it clean. She was exhausted, but the threat of the
handle thrusting through the thin intestinal wall extracted her last
strength - Tanya no longer felt pain, only fear, animal fear, Ruslan
translating for the foreigner, telling her to fuck when she couldn't,
the Finn shoving ten or eleven inches of the handle into her shitter,
threatening to push it all the way in, pushing and twisting until she
pushed back against it, begging, fucking the broom with her butt. After
a while they draped her over the bed. The dog's claws dug into her back.
Tanya had to stick the dick in her cunt, lifting her little white butt
until the magenta penis slid into her vagina. She clawed at the
bed-sheets once the thing was inside her, quivering until the beast
emptied its balls and withdrew. The Finn took pictures of her dripping
fuckhole.
Alyona trembled, listening to Ruslan talk on the telephone. Maybe he
was making it up? Why would anyone want to do that to Tanya? Deep down,
Alyona knew why - she'd seen her sister around Ruslan, and she'd heard
them in bed together. Tanya was asking for it. Alyona was afraid of
Ruslan. So was Tanya - but Tanya kept teasing him. Alyona had even seen
him slap her sister. Tanya would cower and cry, but ten minutes later
she'd be rubbing against him again. Alyona had those feelings, too. She
was only eleven when Karina met Tovarishch Bakunin at Patriarch's Ponds,
but she liked men. She didn't want to be like her sister - Tanya had
turned fifteen that fall, and Alyona knew that she was a hooker, hanging
out at Yaroslavsky Station with her friend Vika - but Alyona dreamt
about belonging to a man. She'd done things with boys - her cousin had
taught her how to kiss, and she'd kissed his friend Arkady, trembling
with need. Alyona needed love, but she felt guilty about it. She didn't
love Arkady, but she let him lie on top of her - he took out his penis,
rubbing it between her legs and frenching her little mouth. He even slid
her panties aside and slipped the tip into her twat. She was still
hairless, but the tiny opening was sopping wet. Alyona gasped - and
Arkady came. He was twelve years old and had never gotten that far with
a girl before. He ruined it by telling her cousin. Alyona felt like a
slut. She was technically still a virgin - he hadn't torn her hymen -
but everybody expected her to turn out just like her sister. The girls'
mother was like that, too, and the babushkas who sat on the benches
outside their building glared at them, whispering dirty rumors. Alyona
didn't want to be a whore, but she thought about it when she was playing
with herself - she didn't want bad things to happen to her, but she
fantasized about being kissed by a man like Tovarishch Bakunin. He'd
spoken to her several times, and Alyona could sense that he didn't want
to hurt her. She'd seen his wife, and his wife didn't look like she'd
been hurt. Alyona didn't think Tovarishch Bakunin had hurt her sister,
either - maybe that was why Tanya didn't see him anymore. Maybe he'd
wanted to protect Tanya - he seemed so nice, even though Alyona knew
that he wanted to do things to her... with her, kissing her like Arkady
had kissed her... but Tovarishch Bakunin would never tell anyone like
Arkady had. Alyona didn't remember her father. She didn't even know who
her father was. Tovarishch Bakunin had a daughter - Alyona had seen her
once - but his daughter was studying in Leningrad. Alyona did well in
school and she wanted to be decent - but she didn't feel decent. A lot
of people had heard bad things about her mother and sister, and
sometimes kids would say things. One girl Alyona tried to make friends
with had even heard about her and Arkady. By the time she started fifth
grade, Alyona had given up on making friends - but Karina made friends
with her. Karina was a nice girl. Her father was an officer, and they
lived in one of the nice old buildings near the park.
They weren't close friends, and Alyona was worried that Karina would
hate her when she saw her flirting with Tovarishch Bakunin. Alyona knew
it was obvious. She could always tell when other girls were flirting -
but they were flirting with boys, not men who had daughters older than
they were. When they said goodbye to Tovarishch Bakunin and left
Patriarch's Ponds, Alyona avoided Karina's eyes - until they were at
Alyona's house and Karina started to act strange. Alyona could feel
Karina staring at her when she took off her shoes. It felt funny, not
quite like a man's stare - Karina was a girl, only a few months older
than she was - but Alyona was still thinking about Tovarishch Bakunin...
not thinking, really, more like basking in the afterglow of his
compliments. Men like him made Alyona feel beautiful - but there was
something dirty about it, too, and it made her think about what her
sister did, standing around in Yaroslavsky Station in her little skirt
until she caught someone's eye. Alyona didn't know that a lot of men
didn't know of any places to take her sister and her friends - sometimes
they'd take them into a dark courtyard, and Tanya had done things in
toilets more than once - but Alyona could picture her sister stripping
in some dingy room and sucking on some stranger's cock. Alyona felt
sorry for her sister, and hearing Ruslan describe what they'd done to
her had scared her - really scared her - but she couldn't stop thinking
about some of those things. Alyona had never had anything bigger than
her finger inside her, but she remembered how it had felt when Arkady
put the tip of his penis there. She thought he would fuck her - and she
wanted him to. She knew it would hurt - but she still wanted it.
Afterwards she was glad he hadn't - but some of his semen had gone up
her. She couldn't have a baby yet, but part of her - her body - her
mouth, her vagina, even her anus - needed a boy's - a man's - penis, and
she'd think about Ruslan saying that her sister had lifted her butt to
get the dog's dick into her pussy hole. Alyona didn't want a dog to fuck
her, but when the kids at school made fun of her... she'd think about
it... and she'd touched a dog back there. It had happened twice that
spring. She'd gotten home from school and her mother had sent her down
to the basement to get a jar of marinated mushrooms - the first time -
jam the second time - and she'd taken Chirnish, the neighbors' dog, with
her - because she was scared of the basement, not just of ghosts but the
drunks who drank down there - and both times she'd been picked on at
school and she felt bad - and she felt weird, too, like when lots of
people picked on her and she felt like she was meant to be picked on,
like when her mother hit her - her mother hit her in front of people,
too - and she hugged Chirnish. It was a mutt, big and black except for
his belly, and he belonged to an old lady on the same floor, but she
mostly left him outside and Alyona had made friends with the dog.
Chirnish protected her whenever she had to go down to the basement.
Alyona felt awful afterwards - the first time she'd only felt its balls,
holding her breath - but the second time she did it, its thing came out.
She touched it, tentatively, aware that her mouth was watering. The dog
looked... it looked nervous, and Alyona kept touching it, feeling it
stiffen like Arkady's had - like Ruslan's did when her sister rubbed
against him. Ruslan had lifted Alyona into his lap once. She was
terrified - but he didn't touch her. He didn't get hard, either, but
even so Alyona could feel it - and she'd seen Tovarishch Bakunin get
hard. Tovarishch Bakunin had seen her looking, too. He'd touched her
face and hair like he did in the park - but they were in the stairwell,
talking, and Chirnish wasn't there that day. She thought he was going to
kiss her - and she wanted him to - she wanted him to hold her - but the
front door of the building opened and he backed away. Alyona was about
to kiss the dog when she thought of Tovarishch Bakunin and stopped. He
wouldn't want a girl who did things like that... would he? When Alyona
took the jar of jam to her mother she was wet between the legs - she was
still in her school uniform, and the crotch of her pantyhose was damp.
After that Alyona always wore panties under her pantyhose. She thought
about Tovarishch Bakunin's daughter - Alyona didn't even know her name,
but she wanted to be like her. She couldn't imagine Tovarishch Bakunin
touching his daughter. She'd looked so - smart, a tall brunette in a
fashionable coat, her arm around a man - her husband, probably. Alyona
was just a sick little girl who played with dogs in dirty basements. Her
sister was a whore. When Alyona thought about bad things she would go to
the bathroom and play with the other place, the place she didn't know
was sexual until she heard Ruslan say that her sister liked it that way.
Alyona masturbated her anus a lot, teasing it with the tip of her middle
finger, her moans masked by the water running into the tub. She played
with her cunny, too, but if anyone had seen her it would have been
obvious that she wanted anal sex - she was usually on her knees, bent
over the tub, focused on the need she felt back there, and the more she
did that the more she thought about it other times. Whenever anyone
admired her derriere, Alyona would think about what she did in the
bathroom. She thought about her sister when she did it - about being her
sister, bending over and begging someone to fuck her. She didn't want to
be hurt - but she wanted... she wanted to feel a penis sliding into her,
into her asshole, grasping it like Tanya had grasped the broom. Alyona
did it with two fingers - sometimes three. Her rosette would be visibly
aroused before she slipped her middle finger in, slowly, slipping it in
and out until she felt like she wouldn't care if somebody did it with a
broom. She knew she was pretty, but she didn't know how pretty she was
back there - the girl had a beautiful bottom, and more and more boys
would stare at it when she went by. Men did, too, and she felt like they
could see what she was thinking - and maybe some of them could, like
Oleg, one of her mother's boyfriends. Oleg had stayed over several
times, staring at her, and one morning when her mother was hung over he
petted Alyona a little. He asked her if it felt good. She couldn't say
anything - she couldn't breathe - but she managed to nod, dying of
shame, letting him touch her tush. She was wearing pants - and panties -
but nobody had ever touched her like that, and he seemed to know exactly
what she wanted... what she needed, lying on her belly on the couch,
burying her embarrassed face in the crocheted pillow and feeling his
hand slip between her legs, gently stroking her there, coaxing her legs
apart but focusing on her butt, telling her how nice it was while his
fingers crept into her crack. Alyona clenched her cheeks at first, then
dropped her leg over the edge of the couch, her entire body as tense as
a high wire when he fondled her there, feeling for her poophole through
her polyester pants and the cotton panties underneath. His voice was
hoarse, and she knew he was hard - and then her sister woke up, opening
the bedroom door to go to the bathroom. He stopped, and after a while
Alyona slinked off, sulky and awkward - it was so stupid, stopping
because of her whore sister, and she was already having second thoughts,
like when she was glad that Arkady hadn't fucked her... but Alyona kept
hoping her mother would bring Oleg home again. It wasn't just her butt -
it, was her mouth, too, her knowing that if Tanya hadn't interrupted
them, the man would have undone his trousers. She hadn't sucked Arkady -
she hardly even touched it - but that was because Arkady wasn't a man.
He was only a boy. He didn't know what she wanted. Alyona didn't know
what she wanted, either, not anymore - part of her wanted to be somebody
else, somebody like Karina, somebody with a daddy, somebody with a mommy
who didn't hit her and didn't bring men home. She wanted to be somebody
who'd grow up to be like Tovarishch Bakunin's daughter looked - somebody
smart, somebody in control of herself... but even people like her had...
they had sex, and even if it wasn't sex like Alyona's mother and sister
had, sex with anybody who wanted them, they still had bad dreams, didn't
they? Alyona wasn't sure if they did or not. She couldn't imagine a girl
like Karina needing to do the things she did in the bathroom or lying
around looking like she wanted her mother's boyfriend to pet her. Alyona
knew that she should have stayed in her room when Oleg was around - the
room she shared with her slut sister - but part of her liked the way he
looked at her. Part of her wished it would stop there, with staring, but
she'd put on her tightest pair of pants that morning - she didn't have
titties like Tanya, but she had a tight butt and a beautiful face with
foxy eyes the color of kiwi and coral lips. Maybe she didn't want it to
stop there - she acted coy, and she didn't dare rub against him like her
sister would have - she was shy - but she wiggled a little, lying on her
belly and pretending to read a book, deliberately drawing attention to
her tush. The black polyester pants were tight enough for him to see her
panty lines, and she kept looking at him - coy, but very obviously aware
of what she was doing. What was she doing? She knew that looking at him
like that made him... she made him want her, and he wasn't a stranger -
they weren't in the park or on the street where she could escape, and
she wouldn't be able to call her mommy - she couldn't, 'cause her mommy
hit her - and he knew that her sister was a slut (Tanya had come home
late one night when their mother was asleep, and Alyona had heard her
sister seduce him). Alyona knew that she ought to stop looking, and he
didn't say anything - he just looked at her - but she couldn't stop. She
tried to pretend that he wouldn't touch her - she was only reading a
book, glancing at him now and then because he was there, it's hard to
read when someone is looking at you - but she knew she should leave the
room if she didn't want him... want him to touch her, but she didn't -
she couldn't - and then he was coming towards her, smiling, the inviting
look on her face suffused with fear - or was it only apprehension? He
knelt next to the couch and asked her what she was reading - and then he
was touching her, touching her exactly where she wanted to be touched
and telling her how nice it was - her butt - and asking her if it felt
nice - and Alyona nodded. He asked her if she had a boyfriend, fondling
her - Alyona didn't answer, burying her face in the pillow. She was only
eleven years old - she wasn't a whore like her sister. Oleg could feel
the confusion in the kid's body - he'd seen the strange, sick look on
Alyona's face when she caught him staring and wondered whether any of
the men her mother brought home had done things to her. He didn't want
to hurt her - but he could tell that Alyona would do what she was told,
and he could picture her sucking on his cock like her sister had - only
Alyona was still innocent-looking, too - she wasn't trash like Tanya. He
felt sorry for her - but her reaction to getting petted gave him a
raging hard-on. She was too scared to say anything, but he kept talking,
asking her if she'd ever seen a penis... if she'd ever kissed one. He
didn't sound mean - he sounded excited, and Alyona thought about what
Ruslan had said about her sister sucking whatever she was offered. Oleg
had his finger by her anal opening - he was rubbing her there, teasing
the tiny entrance through her pants - the exit, the baby rosebud nobody
was supposed to touch. He touched her pee place, too, but the little wet
tube would be for making babies one day - soon, in a year or two. The
other place was where her poop came out, and even though she kept it
clean... it wasn't clean - she'd sniffed her fingers after masturbating
- and it wasn't meant for that... for fucking, was it? If she wasn't
wearing pants, he would have put his finger in there - even with her
pants and panties between him and her rosette, it felt really different
from... from doing it herself. Even when she needed something in there,
when she did it... when she did it, she... she could stop - couldn't
she? Alyona didn't like it - she didn't want him touching her there -
but she did - it did - it didn't hurt - he wasn't hurting her - she
wanted his finger - she wanted him in her mouth - she wanted to put his
penis in her mouth - she'd put it in - if it was by her face she would
open her mouth for him and put it in and suck...
Karina didn't know any of those things. She hadn't even heard about
Alyona's sister - she only knew that kids made fun of her friend
sometimes, and she'd made friends with her... she'd made friends with
her because there was something weird about Alyona, something
intriguing. Alyona was still doing well in school when Karina met
Tovarishch Bakunin in Patriarch's Ponds - nothing terrible had happened
to her, after all; two boys had kissed her and one of them had nearly
taken her virginity - but he hadn't - and her mother's friend had
molested her, but he hadn't even taken off her clothes. Her mother hit
her, but it didn't happen often, she'd fondled the genitals of a
neighbor's dog, and she masturbated a lot. What was terrible was what
she thought about - she knew too much for a girl of her age. Still,
Alyona didn't seem to be abnormal, and she was beautiful - and her
perversity only added to her beauty. Karina had picked up on it somehow.
Karina was beautiful, too, but she'd only just begun to realize how
extraordinarily beautiful she was. She looked at other girls to see if
they were as pretty as she was, and Alyona was unbelievably beautiful
when they were talking to the man in the park - extraordinary. Karina
hadn't even flirted with boys, really, and watching Alyona flirt with a
grownup made her friend seem even more mysterious somehow. When they got
to Alyona's house and took off their shoes, she couldn't help noticing
how pretty her feet were - Alyona was wearing white pantyhose, and
Karina had never really seen her feet before. Alyona saw her looking and
looked at hers - Karina's pantyhose were beige, but other than that
their uniforms were exactly alike - and when their eyes met Karina felt
something she'd never felt before. The feeling was totally unfamiliar -
it wasn't even fully formed; Karina didn't even know that she felt like
kissing her friend, not consciously, but by the time they got to the
couch - the same couch Alyona had been on when Oleg touched her - Karina
felt dizzy, thinking things she'd never thought before. She kept looking
at Alyona's feet and legs, looking away when Alyona looked at her. The
air in the small apartment seemed to thicken like syrup. Alyona's mother
and sister weren't home, and the girls ended up in the bedroom Alyona
shared with Tanya, sitting around and talking about school and what they
were going to do in the summer. They sat on Tanya's bed, and Karina
picked up the faint, unfamiliar scent of sex from the bedding - Alyona's
sister had never fucked there, but she didn't change the sheets very
often and the room was suffused with her odor, the smell she dragged
home from Yaroslavsky Voksal and the men she met there, her nocturnal
moisture and even the musk of her rectum, the pillow redolent of her
dirty little mouth. Alyona was too accustomed to it to notice, but
seeing Karina where her sister slept made her uncomfortable - she'd
always thought of her friend as pure, but Karina's turquoise eyes were
foggy with desire, and the fresh scent of her slit - it was the very
first time she'd been turned on down there - was as strong as Tanya's
residue. Karina was aware of the weird wetness, and she got goose
pimples, fidgeting, feeling Alyona's gaze wander over her body like
Tovarishch Bakunin's had, only girlish - girlish but shadowy, making her
shiver despite the warmth between her thighs. Alyona drew her legs up
into the bed, letting Karina look up her skirt for a second. The air
felt heavier than syrup, like wet cement - Karina looked, and Alyona
pretended to yawn, stretching, letting Karina see more of her body. She
pulled the tails of her blouse out of her skirt when she stretched,
exposing part of her pallid belly.
Karina and Alyona never even kissed each other on the lips, but they
talked about sex sometimes - about the boys at school, mostly - and now
and then they'd hold hands or hug. Karina was completely obsessed with
her friend. She tried to think about boys, but she always ended up
thinking about Alyona - her body, her beautiful little butt and budding
breasts. Karina dreamt about kissing her - kissing her mouth and neck,
her feet, taking her toes into her mouth and nuzzling her... nuzzling
her fragrant crotch, pressing her lips to the little cleft covered by
pantyhose or baby blue or pink panties, burying her face between the
eleven-year-old's legs. Karina didn't masturbate yet, but she daydreamed
about Alyona constantly - she even fantasized about being a boy
sometimes. Karina was extremely feminine - fragile, a wisp of a girl -
but she often wondered what it would be like to have a boy's thing. She
didn't see a boy's for another year - Ilse's brother's - but she'd seen
reproductions of paintings and naked statues at the museum. She even
wished that Alyona had one - a little one, a girlish penis she could
suck on like a finger. Karina sucked her thumb sometimes, at night,
caressing herself but never masturbating. Alyona had told her about
sucking - Alyona had never done it, but she said boys liked to be sucked
on and asked Karina if she ever thought about doing that. Karina had
heard kids make comments about sucking, but that was only when they were
being nasty - she didn't think anybody actually did it until Alyona
started talking about it. Alyona told her about making out with Arkady.
Karina loved it when Alyona talked about naughty things - Alyona didn't
tell her about Oleg, but they went to the park together now and then,
and a couple of times they chatted with Tovarishch Bakunin. Alyona acted
really sexy the second time, rubbing up against him. They went to
Alyona's house afterwards, and Alyona asked Karina if she liked him.
They were holding hands, and Karina could feel her friend's heat, as if
her breath was on fire. Her hand was hot, and the air had turned to soup
again. Karina said that Tovarishch Bakunin seemed nice. Alyona told her
that her sister had been to his apartment. She'd never talked about
Tanya before.
"My sister does things with men," Alyona whispered - in Russian, of
course. "She meets men - her and her friend Vika."
Karina had seen Alyona's sister several times, but they hadn't talked.
She'd seen Vika once, too - they were both fifteen, but even though that
was only four years older, they seemed far away to Karina; not yet
grownups, but already in a grownup world. Karina didn't really realize
that there were girls their age who did things with older men - men old
enough to be their fathers. She'd never thought about it that way. She
knew that Alyona flirted with Tovarishch Bakunin - and she'd flirted
with him a little, too - but it was almost innocent. When Karina thought
about penises, they were small ones - she'd never seen a boy's, but
she'd seen her father's. It wasn't hard when she saw it - she'd seen it
when they were at a lake in the country, changing into their swimsuits
behind some bushes, and once when she walked in on him putting on his
uniform in the morning - and she didn't think about it much. She was
just embarrassed and a little ashamed that he'd seen her see it. She
didn't think about doing things with Tovarishch Bakunin - she just liked
being looked at, and the way Alyona acted around him excited her. Karina
had never met Arkady, but she liked to picture Alyona playing with a boy.
"What do you mean?" Karina was always nervous when Alyona talked about
forbidden things - she sounded nervous, and sounding nervous made her
even more nervous. She sort of knew what Alyona meant - "blyad," bitch
or whore, is almost like punctuation when some people speak. "Suka
blyad." Karina could tell that Tanya and Vika were not nice girls. She
didn't really know what "blyadstvo" - prostitution - was, and
"blyadovat" - to whore - also means to have sex with anybody who wants it.
"They give her things." Alyona let go of Karina's hand and took off
her shoes. She knew that Karina liked looking at her. She let Karina see
up her skirt a lot. Alyona wasn't really attracted to girls - she
thought about men most of the time, men like Tovarishch Bakunin - but
she was glad that she'd finally found a friend and she'd figured out
that Karina worshipped her. It was really obvious, and it made Alyona
feel better about herself. "They give her money for sex."
Alyona stretched her legs, wiggling her toes. Karina watched them
wiggle through the white nylon, swallowing. Alyona stood up and walked
across the room, opening a drawer and fishing out an outfit - her black
polyester pants and a striped T-shirt. She felt weird about the way
Karina stared at her - she knew enough about sex to think that girls
were meant for boys, and maybe men - but she'd done things she was
terribly ashamed of. She played with a dog. She liked Karina a lot -
Karina came from a different world, from a normal home - and Alyona
wanted her to see her if that was what she wanted. Alyona wanted to
please. She pretended not to find her panties and started to undress,
slowly, keeping her back to Karina. It was kind of exciting. She took
her time, and for maybe five minutes she was completely naked,
pretending to hunt for her panties, giving Karina a show. Then she got
dressed and returned to Tanya's bed, barefoot.
A week later she even turned around. Karina could hardly breathe when
Alyona stripped. They didn't talk about it, but Karina knew that Alyona
was doing it for her. She even seemed to know that Karina liked her feet
- she'd sit around barefoot, and one day when they were holding hands,
Alyona put Karina's hand on her leg - her calf, just above the ankle.
Karina found the guts to say that she was pretty. Alyona would let her
caress her feet, and a week later she got into bed in just a T-shirt and
panties. Karina was nervous to the point of trembling. She wanted to do
all kinds of things, but she was still afraid that Alyona would reject
her - Karina could tell that her friend wasn't really interested in her.
Alyona wasn't in love with her. They were only playing - Alyona was
letting her play, teasing her, turning her on. Karina caressed her feet,
and Alyona lay back on her sister's bed, staring at the ceiling. Holding
her breath, Karina leaned forward and kissed her left ankle. She felt
silly. She'd fantasized about kissing Alyona for weeks - about kissing
her feet and making her feel good. But Karina had no idea if it made her
friend feel good - it was humiliating, too, licking between her toes,
tasting her sweat, and letting her know how much she loved her. They
didn't love each other - Karina was in love with her. Alyona never even
looked at her the way... the way boys did when they liked her, the way
Tovarishch Bakunin stared at her, eager to see her secret places,
undressing her with his smoldering eyes. Karina whimpered, sucking
Alyona's toes. She didn't know what she'd do afterwards - she felt like
running away. She wouldn't be able to look her friend in the eye ever
again.
All of a sudden Alyona moaned, softly. Karina wanted to embrace her,
but she knew that Alyona didn't want that. She wasn't a boy. They
weren't lovers. She was only a kid who liked girls - a girl who did bad
things. She couldn't stop. Alyona lifted her hips and took off her
panties. Karina felt like she was sinking, drowning in dirty water,
slithering between her friend's legs and kissing the little opening,
licking it, whimpering when Alyona grabbed her head. "Zhopoliza."
Ass-licker. Alyona pushed her mouth to the puckered hole, and Karina
sucked on it. She'd dreamt about doing that - it was instinctive to her.
Alyona let go of her head and held it open, letting her lap at the
little rosette. Alyona was moaning - it gave her pleasure. Karina was
giving her pleasure. She lapped at it, slobbering, sucking her spit in
and out of Alyona's anus, stabbing at it with her tongue. Alyona started
playing with her slit, her middle finger flickering at her vaginal
opening, her sphincter twitching, the tip of Karina's tongue penetrating
her bottom hole. She touched her clitoris and squealed, quivering,
pulling Karina's face to her pussy for a second, jerking, and pushing
her away.
Karina withdrew, shivering. She stared at the wall, dying of shame.
Alyona got up and put on her panties and pants. She tried to think of
something to say, but thanks sounded dumb. Finally she just hugged her,
clumsily. Karina hugged her back, blushing.
"You're getting my shirt dirty," Alyona said, giggling awkwardly.
Karina's chin was wet with saliva and juices. "I'll get a towel."
Two days later they did it again. Alyona asked her if she liked it.
Karina didn't say anything. Alyona started talking to her when they did
it, telling her to lie down and straddling her face, rubbing against her
nose and mouth. She wasn't mean, exactly, but she was using Karina to
masturbate. One afternoon when Karina was leaving, she ran into
Tovarishch Bakunin on the stairs. He invited her in. Karina was dazed
from what she'd been doing for her friend - she was almost in a trance -
and it happened so fast that it felt like diving, sobbing, kneeling,
opening her mouth for the man's penis, sucking, his semen scalding her
throat, spitting and coughing. She didn't desire men, but she went back
to see Tovarishch Bakunin again and again. She felt empty inside,
lifting her skirt and letting him touch her. Later a man in the park
took her into the bushes - he was a stranger, but he could tell that
Karina sucked cock. Part of her liked sucking men, and part of her was
simply paralyzed. She was utterly helpless when men wanted her - she
would try to avoid them, but she'd begun to behave like a little
marionette, wandering around Patriarch's Ponds after school, nervously
returning men's stares until they made friends with her, taking her to a
secluded corner of the park and undoing their pants. She felt awful
afterwards. She'd learned to swallow, learning "to play the leather
flute" as some called it. She didn't see Alyona very often anymore - her
friend's mother had married and they'd moved to the October District, on
the other side of the city.
A few days after Karina's twelfth birthday, her father announced that
he was being transferred to Germany. About a week before they left, he
saw his daughter walking next to a man, holding hands - she'd been in
the bushes with him. He didn't know that, but he knew there was
something wrong with her. She'd been avoiding her father for months.
When he got home that night he told her he'd seen her with a man. Karina
started crying when he told her to take off her clothes - to show daddy
that she was still a virgin. She didn't realize that he was aroused
until she felt his penis push against her anal opening. It was always
punishment - stripping, pulling her labia apart to prove that she still
had her cherry, bending over like a dog to let him rape her asshole,
hard, howling, waiting for him to grab her hips and growl and come,
emptying his balls in her skinny little butt. Sometimes he hit her with
his belt. He called her a whore, and for the next five years he would
hurt her like that, dry holing his daughter's shitter and whipping her
back and buttocks. Karina thought she deserved it. She'd disappointed
him. Except for what she did with Ilse and her brother Dieter, she
stopped having sex with anyone other than her father until she met
Sergei - and she didn't really think of what her daddy did as sex, not
then. She was still a virgin in front. He was punishing her, and it was
always very painful. Her mother didn't know about it, and Karina lied to
Dr. Vasilyeva. It didn't happen often - once a month or so - and she
never hated her father. The pain was mixed with physical pleasure -
she'd get wet, and when she was fourteen she came for the first time,
screaming, his come flooding her colon. He'd slap her and leave the
room, and Karina would crawl off to the bathroom. She touched it
sometimes, climbing onto the toilet, crying, fingering the wounded
opening and wincing when her father's semen spurted out. The sound it
made was obscene. She farted it out. Karina knew that she had a nice
tush - a lot of boys stared at it, and sometimes older men did - but her
asshole looked like she let guys fuck her there, and she'd heard that
girls who did that were filthy whores. She felt filthy - she felt like a
whore. Her father called her a filthy whore. When she was seventeen she
met Sergei at a party. He was a twenty-eight-year-old mechanic. Karina
let him kiss her. She got drunk and passed out, and she woke up with
blood between her legs. She didn't love him, but at first she loved what
he did to her in bed - he beat her and called her nasty names, and he
wanted her to have his babies. The next time her father told her to take
off her clothes, Karina had to show him that she'd lost her cherry.
She'd thought about suicide, terrified of what would happen when he saw.
Nothing terrible happened. He called her a slut and slapped her around,
asking her whom she'd been fucking. He didn't rape her. He didn't tell
Sergei about what they'd done. He never reamed again. He ordered her to
marry the man, and they were wed on her eighteenth birthday.
When Karina met Daria she'd been with Sergei for eleven years. Karina
was almost thirty, but she looked younger - she was tall and slender,
and her white blond hair hadn't been cut since she was a child. She wore
it pinned up that day, and Daria complimented her coiffure. Daria was a
brunette, and her breasts weren't much bigger than Karina's. Karina
often felt inadequate - she was almost flat, and her husband's friend
Fedya had made fun of her when she took off her top. Fedya had been
raping her since the middle of the summer, coming over when Sergei was
at work and fucking her mouth before he put it in her pussy. Karina took
Postinor afterwards, but even so she was scared that he'd get her
pregnant somehow. She'd never been unfaithful before, but she had a lot
of fantasies. Mostly she fantasized about women - women like Daria. Her
new friend was almost as tall as she was, taller than Dmitri but not as
tall as Sergei - Karina was exactly her husband's height, just shy of
two meters - but Daria was wearing heels. Sergei didn't let Karina wear
heels - he didn't like it if she looked taller than he was. Daria's
daughters were beautiful, too - especially the nine-year-old, Natasha.
It turned out that she knew Pavel - they were both in second grade.
Karina liked kids. She still thought about Ilse and Alyona sometimes,
masturbating, and now and then she thought about her daughter. Yelena
was eleven; the same age Karina had been when she made friends with
Alyona. She was pretty, too, a gray-eyed platinum blonde, and Karina
tried to buy her nice clothes despite their meager budget. Karina still
caught glimpses of Yelena naked - and she still bathed her son. Pavel
was eight, a little younger than Daria's daughter. Yelena took baths by
herself - she was shy about her body even though it hadn't yet begun to
develop, and she'd said she could wash herself when she was nine. Karina
didn't really abuse them, but washing Pavel's little penis aroused her.
She'd only kissed it once, a week before school started. She didn't put
it in her mouth, but she almost came without touching herself, watching
it stiffen.
Sergei bought Dmitri a drink - a hundred grams of vodka (for some
reason Russians reckon alcohol in grams rather than milliliters). Karina
and Daria talked about the teachers their children would have that year
- but Daria kept looking at Karina's chest. Her gaze made Karina
uncomfortable - her breasts were still no bigger than a hard-boiled egg
sliced in two. The aureoles of her nipples were rather large. They'd
turned sepia when she had her first child, and they were extremely
sensitive. Sergei liked to pull on them when he screwed her, pinching
them and twisting them, ramming his cock into her cunt until he came.
Karina liked to be hurt like that - she pulled on them when she
masturbated, and she masturbated a lot. She didn't come when he fucked
her - and she couldn't come when Fedya raped her, either. Sergei had
never put it in her ass. Karina used a candle in there, but he'd never
remarked on it being sore. She hadn't been buttfucked since she was
seventeen, but almost every orgasm she'd ever had was anal. She was
passive in bed, lying there and crying when hurt her nipples and hit
her, dripping, turning around when he told her to, praying he'd do it in
her dirthole for once - but he didn't. He called her names - slut,
whore, useless cunt - but Karina never said anything during sex.
Daria's breasts were small - A-cups, probably, maybe B - but at least
she had breasts. Her husband was very drunk - shitfaced compared to
Sergei, and she was obviously scared of him. So were their daughters -
Karina noticed that Natasha shrank back whenever he reached for a napkin
or had has hands near her. She found out why when the seven-year-old
started playing with the salt. Dmitri grabbed the salt shaker and
slapped Svetlana, and when Daria pulled her youngest daughter to her,
protecting her, he told her to let her go and grabbed his wife by the
hair. Everyone stared. Daria had tears in her deep blue eyes. Dmitri
smacked her across the mouth and said something about not interfering
with discipline. The stunning brunette choked back a sob and stared at
the salt that Sveta had spilled on the table.
Karina felt sorry for Daria - and she liked Daria right away. She
liked her a lot. It wasn't just her beauty - Karina loved the way Daria
reacted to her husband's slap, the way she shuddered. She could picture
Daria in bed with Dmitri. At twenty-nine, Karina still wasn't sure if
anyone else at all like her. She knew that a lot of men hit women - but
she didn't think there were other women who... who needed it. If they
existed at all, they were probably prostitutes. Karina didn't go out
much, but she'd seen women who seemed to be hookers. Even reading about
prostitution in books or newspapers aroused her. Karina was a housewife
and a mother - but deep down she still felt like a whore, especially
since Fedya had started raping her. She even fantasized about hooking -
about putting on a short skirt and high-heeled sandals and standing on
some street corner until some fat, ugly stranger picked her up and took
her to a seedy hotel, the sort full of pomegranate merchants from the
Caucasus. The other whores would beat her up and piss on her.
Dmitri suggested that they get a bottle and go to their place - but
Dmitri didn't have the money for a bottle, and Sergei was running low.
They parted, and Daria and Karina exchanged phone numbers. Daria had
avoided Karina's gaze after her husband slapped her, but their eyes met
for a moment when they said goodbye - Daria's deep blue and suffused
with sexual misery, Karina's turquoise and unbelievably desirous, unlike
any eyes Daria had ever seen before.
Daria and Karina had a lot in common, but Daria's darkest secrets were
almost all of recent vintage. Her adolescence was very nearly normal -
except that her father kept spanking her into her teens. He never abused
her sexually, but exposing her bottom to him after she'd reached puberty
was horribly humiliating to her - she knew that her father could see her
pussy, and she knew that he liked her body. He didn't spank her very
often - two or three times a year, when her grades were poor or she
disobeyed him - and most of the time he was nice to her. She loved to
please him, cooking him his favorite foods and saving her allowance to
buy him presents - ties, a new umbrella. Daria was seventeen when she
met Dmitri. He was twenty-eight, and she'd never even been kissed. He
was a plumber - her father was the director of the local council that
maintained apartment buildings (or didn't maintain them, in the Brezhnev
years). Her father was having a talk with him when Daria came into his
office - she often went to see her father on the way home from school.
She acted like Dmitri wasn't there, glowing with love for her dad. She
was very obviously a virgin and extraordinarily beautiful, and Dmitri
was surprised that no one had taken her. She seemed to be utterly
submissive - and he wasn't mistaken. She whimpered like a little girl
when he cornered her in the corridor and took her into a storeroom. She
hated his stinking breath and smoky tongue, but she didn't struggle -
part of her was relieved that he wasn't going to rape her. She didn't
even cry, kneeling and taking his dirty cock into her mouth. She cried
when she got home, brushing her teeth again and again. She'd thought
about doing those things - about kneeling in front of her father. Her
father was clean and respectable. Dmitri was a fat slob, a filthy
plumber - and she didn't try to stop him. The worst part was what he
said - he said to suck daddy's cock. It was a lot smaller than she
thought it would be - she'd never seen one, but she'd noticed the bulges
in men's pants. Dmitri had a little penis - more like a boy's than a
man's. He found out where she lived - he asked a co-worker for her
father's address - and Daria went to his apartment. She didn't want to -
but she felt she had to obey him. She would have obeyed anyone, but no
one had ever been forceful with her. She was tall, but she had the
figure of an adolescent, with slender hips and long, thin legs, small
breasts and soft skin the color of fresh horseradish.
"Take your shirt off for daddy." She felt nauseous, letting him
undress her - but she was physically aroused, too, her gash glistening
with excitement when he put her on her hands and knees to deflower her.
He held her afterwards, and he brought her roses the next day. Daria had
become Dmitri's girlfriend - she didn't like him, but she knew deep down
that she'd have to marry him. She'd always expected to marry the first
man who did things to her - things she didn't like to think about until
after he'd corrupted her, getting her off with his fingers and pushing
his little penis into her anus. Daria had never thought about
buttfucking until Dmitri put it in her shitter. She'd never even heard
of it, and she was ashamed of it... of liking it, of him telling her how
much she liked it, of licking his cock afterwards. Like Karina, Daria
was anal - but unlike Sergei, Dmitri was into that. Her father hit her
when she told him whom she planned to marry, and they'd hardly seen each
other since. He didn't attend the wedding, but he came to see his
grandchildren now and then. Daria knew that he'd wanted a better life
for her - Dmitri was a drunk, and he was often out of work. He beat her,
too - it started in the first month of their marriage, and for almost a
decade she'd lived in fear of his big, hairy hands. She almost lost
their second child because he hurt her during her pregnancy.
"Are you feeling better?" He'd leave her alone after hitting her, and
she had to beg him for forgiveness. "Suck daddy's cock." Daria was even
more ashamed of having to call him daddy than she was of having anal
sex. But those things only happened in the bedroom - most of the time
she was a housewife, and when she was twenty-three she started working,
getting a secretarial job with the city administration. The more she
worked, the less Dmitri worked. One day when he'd given her a black eye,
her boss spoke to her in private. She'd never been with anyone except
Dmitri. Tovarishch Karimov didn't make her call him daddy, but she felt
like a little girl when she did things for him. He made her tell him
about Dmitri hurting her - he'd lock the office door and ask her to sit
in his lap. She had to show him her bruises and describe how she felt
when he told her to get on her hands and knees - "like a dog,"
Tovarishch Karimov called it - and her boss would touch her there,
lifting her dress and fingering her anal opening while she told him
about what she did for her husband. Mostly it ended with her blowing her
boss, but sometimes he'd lubricate his penis and slide it into her
rectum, slowly reaming her until he ejaculated. He was much bigger than
Dmitri, but it didn't hurt that much - he was gentle with her, and she
was very needy in there. She was ashamed of her need, and she felt
guilty about being unfaithful. Her co-workers whispered about her. Like
Karina, she didn't have any friends.
They had another thing in common - Daria liked women, too. Unlike
Karina, she'd never been with one. Most of her fantasies were about
being a little girl again - she often played with her daughters, putting
aside money to buy them the pretty dolls that she liked just as much as
they did. But Daria had never done anything sexual with her children
until she met Gustav, in mid-August, just before the unsuccessful coup
against Gorbachev, two weeks before she first met Karina.
Gustav Meyer was from Munich - he was in Moscow on business, trying to
negotiate an agreement to export cheap cigarettes to the Soviet Union, a
market that Philip Morris already had close to a lock on. He'd never
been to Russia before, but he quickly discovered that he could easily
indulge in his passion for teenage girls. He was forty-eight years old,
and he liked nothing better than to ball schoolgirls. He had another,
more dangerous passion - ever since he was in his teens, he'd often been
attracted to even younger girls - preteens. This attraction grew
stronger as he grew older, but he rarely crossed the line - he tried to
talk to little girls now and then, in the Englischer Garten, and then
he'd go home and masturbate. He'd never married, and most of his
experience was with prostitutes. The youngest whore he'd ever had was
sixteen, a Polish girl in Berlin, but he'd found a fourteen-year-old in
Moscow. Gustav was afraid of getting into trouble or catching a disease,
but he found that he didn't need to hunt for hookers - young teenagers
interested in a man from the West weren't a rarity. He wasn't exactly
ugly, though he had a beer belly, and at the time it was easy to spot a
foreigner. What frightened him most was taking them to his hotel - he
didn't go in with them; he'd give them the room number and hope that no
one noticed his nocturnal visitors. He gave them gifts and persuaded
them to pose for him, besides fucking them - he was an avid amateur
photographer, and he could develop black-and-white film himself. He was
in paradise - enjoying himself more than he ever had in his lonely life,
and looking forward to returning to Bavaria to develop his souvenirs -
shot after shot of precocious young teens spreading their legs on his
hotel bed.
He was taking a stroll through Lefortovo Park when he saw Daria and
her daughters. Gustav's interests weren't restricted to young girls - he
liked pretty women, too, and Daria was drop-dead gorgeous. He didn't
really think anything, sitting down on the bench opposite the one they
were sitting on - he would have a cigarette and admire the trio. Daria
was feeling lonely - a year had gone by since her boss had been
promoted, and she didn't see him anymore. Her husband was working for a
change, and she'd been at work all day. She'd just picked the children
up at the state day care center near the park.
Gustav smiled at her, and Daria smiled back. She didn't usually smile
at strangers - but he was obviously a foreigner, and foreigners were
still fairly rare then. Her smile wasn't exactly inviting - she'd never
even been seduced. The two men she'd been with had forced themselves on
her. Gustav was surprised to find that she spoke some English - she'd
studied it in secondary school, before she met Dmitri. Daria was a
little taken aback when he asked if she would meet him for a drink - she
was wearing her wedding ring. She shocked herself by saying yes - she'd
never met anyone from the West, and he fascinated her. He was extremely
polite and came from another world, one she'd always wondered about -
she loved to dream of the exotic places she'd seen in movies, places
full of fabulous homes and beautiful people.
It all happened so fast - she took her kids home and took the metro to
a stop near the hotel, and an hour later her cheap dress was bunched up
around her hips and his penis was in her mouth. He pulled her panties
down and left them around her left ankle, slowly fucking her willing
mouth and slapping her between the legs, lightly, playing with her.
Dmitri had never done that - she whimpered a little, opening her thighs.
It was the closest she'd ever come to making love - usually she was
passive. Her husband hit her, but he'd never hurt her carefully like the
foreigner did, toying with her clit until she came, squirting. Gustav
had only been with hookers and the three teenagers he'd met that week -
he'd never slept with a woman who wanted him like Daria did. Desperate,
she got into doggy position, offering him her ass - if that was what
Dmitri and Tovarishch Karimov wanted, maybe all men wanted it. He
entered her vagina instead - but she slid forward and moaned, obviously
eager to take him in her tush. Gustav groaned when he pushed his cock
into her asshole. Daria pushed back against it, dripping, her sphincter
taking him in like a tiny mouth. He wasn't quite as big as her boss had
been - but he wasn't gentle. Dmitri did it hard - but his dick was
small. Gustav grabbed her hips and thrust it in to the root again and
again, hurting her. Daria came when he did, quivering and grunting.
She met him again the next day. She was in love with him - but she
didn't think anything would come of it. Daria suffered from low
self-esteem, like Karina. They _liked_ each other, and that was the main
thing. They talked, despite her poor English. They drank wine together.
Daria had never really been with a man except for sex, and with Dmitri
as a housewife. When Gustav wasn't fucking her, he was wining and dining
her and buying her clothes at the hard currency store - clothes she had
to hide so that her husband wouldn't see them. Then Gustav had to fly
back to Germany - he was supposed to be back three days later, but the
coup kept him from returning until almost the end of August.
Gustav hinted at things that upset her - he was careful because he was
nervous, but he finally asked her if he could take pictures of Sveta and
Natasha. He'd already taken pictures of Daria - dirty pictures - and
they'd had lunch with the kids... and Daria had noticed how eager he'd
been to see her daughters again. If he wanted her... if he wanted her to
be his lover, he wouldn't want to get together with her daughters in
tow, would he? Or maybe he would - maybe he wanted to show her that he
liked her children, too? Maybe he was serious about her! Then she saw
how he looked at them, especially Natasha. She'd asked the
eight-year-old to put on her nicest dress when she took the kids to
lunch with him. It wasn't that nice of a dress - she didn't have the
money to dress them the way she would have liked to. Natasha was a
lovely child - her hair was darker than Daria's, almost black, but she
had the same azure eyes. Daria had caught men staring at her daughters
before. It was scary. Sveta was only seven, almost two years younger -
she had chestnut hair like her mother, but her eyes were grayish-green.
Did men ever think about doing things with girls their age? Daria had
never really thought about it. Then Gustav asked if he could take
pictures of them - it would have been okay if she hadn't already posed
for him. He didn't mean dirty pictures - did he? She was afraid to ask.
He was such a gentleman... except when he was fucking her. He was German
and rich and educated and worked for an important company...
She took the kids to his hotel on the last day of August - the day
before she met Karina. They were both wearing their best dresses. Gustav
shot several rolls of film - color film, ordinary shots of two sisters
who might be his grandchildren. They liked to be photographed - but
Daria was still apprehensive. He switched to black-and-white film he
could develop in his darkroom and handed Daria the camera, standing
behind her and showing her how to focus it. He asked the girls to take
off their shoes and get on the bed, his arms around their mother - she
translated for him, her voice shaking. He told them to hold hands,
whispering in Daria's ear and stroking her belly through her frilly
white top. She didn't understand some of what he said - her English was
bad, and his German accent made it harder to catch his words. Daria
could hardly breathe, translating his instructions - telling her
daughters to hug each other. He was touching her in front of them,
fondling her belly and breasts, whispering to her to concentrate on
taking the pictures. Svetlana was giggling, but Natasha was definitely
nervous. Daria had told them not to say anything about visiting a man,
and the eight-year-old was confused. Finally Gustav let Daria go. He
poured some wine he'd bought at the hard currency store and they talked
- for the first time he suggested visiting him in Germany. He didn't
need to say that he meant the three of them - Daria understood. She
understood, and it terrified her - she knew she could never say no to
him. She'd hardly ever said no to a man - and she'd never known anyone
like him. It wasn't just that she loved him - he opened her up, and
she'd never felt as sexy as she felt since they'd met - she already had
visions of him taking her away to a world where everything would be like
in a fairy tale... a fairy tale, only so many fairy tales had monsters
in them. What if he was a monster?
Daria didn't see Gustav on the First of September - she had to take
the kids to school and explained how it was like a holiday in Russia.
Dmitri went out when they got home - he went to see his friend Fedya,
hoping to borrow money and continue drinking - and Daria spent the
evening alone with the kids, thinking. Wasn't she _married_ to a
monster? Dmitri hit the kids sometimes, especially Natasha. Gustav...
Gustav liked them, didn't he? She wished she had someone to talk to - a
friend - and thought of Karina. Daria didn't have any friends because
she was ashamed of her husband - of what happened with her husband. He'd
humiliate her in front of people, like he'd already done in front of and
Sergei and Karina, when Sveta spilled the salt. She'd avoided Karina's
gaze afterwards - but their eyes met when they parted, and the way
Karina had looked at her made her feel warm. Daria had always wanted a
friend - more than a friend; she often wished she had a sister, someone
she could share everything with. Someone who knew what she was like...
who knew how she felt... who knew she could spend hours playing with her
daughters' dolls. She'd tried to make friends at work, but the other
women despised her because they knew that she... she took care of
Tovarishch Karimov, kneeling on the floor and sucking his penis for him,
swallowing his semen. She never meant anything to him - he treated her
like a stupid little girl. Daria dropped the doll she was playing with
and went to the bathroom to masturbate - thinking about Gustav and
Tovarishch Karimov and Dmitri smacking her in front of Karina, replaying
the scene again and again in her mind, Karina seeing her disgrace -
sobbing, Daria fingered her cunt until she came.
Daria was in the tub when the telephone rang - she wrapped herself in
a towel and went to answer. The connection was poor, as it so often was
in the Soviet Union, but she recognized Karina's voice immediately.
Daria would never have called her - she would have wanted to, but she
wouldn't have - and Karina was calling her only hours after they'd met!
Daria had always been ashamed of her attraction to women - even more
ashamed than she was about how she felt around men. She knew that Karina
had noticed her looking at her chest - she'd had too much liqueur, or
she wouldn't have been so obvious about it. Daria had been embarrassed
about the size of her tits since she was in ninth or tenth grade - but
Karina's were even smaller. She hardly had breasts at all, and Daria
could imagine how inadequate she'd felt in high school. Maybe she still
felt inadequate - but she was beautiful, Daria thought, so tall and
slender and with such unusual eyes and terrific hair! Daria knew that
she was pretty, too - being so pretty had always set her apart, and part
of her was still ashamed of the way she'd behaved as an adolescent. She
wasn't sure if her father had ever seen the wetness between her legs
when she lifted her skirt and he pulled down her panties for the
spankings, but Dmitri had caught on to her perversity immediately. "Kiss
daddy's dick, honey..." It wasn't her daddy's dick - it was less than
half the size, a smelly little stick she'd sucked on for almost ten
years. He even mistreated her in public - his prick was small, but he
had hands like hams and his voice was gravelly, gruff - and Daria would
sometimes have to accompany him to the dives he drank in. "Suka."
Everyone would stare at "suka" - and Daria couldn't leave, because she
was scared of him and because... because she felt like "suka," a stupid
slut some drunk would drag into a dirty alley and screw. Daria knew that
some people felt sorry for her, but they didn't understand - they didn't
know that "suka" was sick between the legs. Dmitri did - and so did her
boss, inspecting her bruises and making her describe how she got them.
Even in high school, her teachers had sometimes aroused Daria when they
berated her. Respectable people didn't go to her husband's watering
holes, and another part of Daria dreamt of a better life - the part that
was aware of how beautiful she could be if she belonged to a man like
Gustav. But Daria didn't think she was good enough for Gustav. He was so
nice to her! He was rough in bed, but he held her afterwards. He'd
bought her clothes - the kinds of clothes she'd always wanted, for hard
currency - and he'd taken her to one of the fanciest restaurants in
Moscow. She'd felt out of place, though, pretending to be... to be
respectable. She wasn't respectable. One of the other diners at the
Metropol had stared her down, sneering, and Daria felt as if though knew
where she'd been an hour before that fancy dinner - upstairs in the
hotel, spreading her legs for Gustav's Leica. He hadn't shown her the
pictures, but Daria knew what she would see - "suka" with her freshly
fucked asshole on display. She even had a nightmare about being in the
opulent restaurant with her husband - she was naked and he was calling
her names. Did Gustav know that he didn't have to be nice to her? She
couldn't stop thinking about photographing her daughters - those
pictures weren't dirty, but she'd felt his cock pressing against her
bottom when he embraced her, fondling her breasts in front of Sveta and
Natasha. What if he'd gone further?
Karina and Daria made small talk on the crackling line. Daria kept
remembering what Karina had seen - the slap, and Dmitri grabbing her by
the hair. Daria wondered what Karina's marriage was like - whether her
husband ever hit her. One of the women Daria worked with had gotten a
divorce the year before, and Daria had overheard her co-workers'
conversations about how terrible most men were - none of them understood
her, especially since they knew what she did when Tovarishch Karimov
locked the door to his office. Karina was different. Daria could picture
men slamming into her slender body and maybe beating her. They arranged
to meet the next day after Daria finished work, and when they ended the
call Daria went back to the bathroom. It was probably only projection -
Daria often fantasized about women that way. When she was fifteen one of
her classmates, a gorgeous girl named Galina, had gotten raped. Daria
still thought about Galina. She'd even gone to the building where Galina
lived to stand in the stairwell where it happened, her heart pounding,
picturing the virginal girl half naked, kicking and crying and trying to
scream, too scared to - only in Daria's fantasy it wouldn't really be
rape. It couldn't be, because the kid's cunt would be wet - as wet as
Daria's was when she heard footsteps behind her late at night and
imagined a man lifting her little skirt and pulling her panties aside,
holding her down and forcing his cock into her fuck tube. Daria was
devoted to her daddy then - but deep inside she was already "suka." When
it finally happened - when Dmitri took her into the storeroom - Daria
had been dreaming about getting taken for about two years. The only
difference was that in real life her rapist had a four-inch dick and
gave her flowers after deflowering her.
Karina and Daria had a lot in common - they were almost reflections of
each other, and most men wouldn't have seen much difference between them
except that Daria was a blue-eyed brunette and Karina was a blonde with
unusual eyes, like milky turquoise. But Karina had gone further than
Daria had - her father had taken her further, dry holing her tush from
the age of twelve. It would have been different if she hadn't already
been dirty - giving blow jobs in the bushes and licking girls' butts -
or if her father had made her a woman. But he didn't even use her mouth
- he only beat her and abused her anally until Karina came like that,
crying, needing the pain as much as she needed love. She needed love,
and she was in love with Ilse Schumacher. Like Alyona, Ilse didn't do
much for Karina - but Karina loved helping her friend get off.
"Zhopoliza." Ass-licker. Ilse liked it when Karina licked her there, but
she didn't let her brother fuck her butt. Ilse had boyfriends - she gave
head and got fucked - but she'd only taken cock in her asshole once. She
told Karina about it, and listening to her talk about how horrible it
was made Karina realize how different she was - she wasn't supposed to
get excited when she bent over and heard her father remove his belt.
Karina didn't tell Ilse about what her daddy did. Karina kept her
clothes on, so Ilse never saw the welts across her otherwise flawless
buttocks or the raw skin around her anal opening. Ilse had been blowing
a Russian soldier when his friends came in and raped her, popping her
cherry and ripping her tiny rosette. Her anus still bore the scar. All
four of them had fucked her up the ass. Karina kissed it, and a couple
of times she fingered it, gingerly - but Ilse would tell her to stop,
remembering the rape. Ilse hadn't been with a man since it happened -
she played with her little brother, and Karina learned to make the boy
happy. Dieter didn't like licking his sister - mostly Ilse would suck
him and play with herself - and when he turned twelve, he began to get
mean. He called Ilse names, and he tried to rape Karina. Terrified that
her father would find out she'd lost her virginity, Karina begged him to
do it in her butt. For about a year - until her father was transferred
to what was then East Berlin - Karina had anal intercourse with Dieter.
He didn't like her - he even spat in her face sometimes - but Karina
fell in love with him. She sucked him after he fucked her shitter - she
didn't like the taste, but she liked the feeling, and he could tell. His
sister had found a real boyfriend - a fat East German lieutenant - and
Dieter had discovered a girl who wouldn't control him like she had. He
controlled her despite her being older, and just before Karina left for
Berlin he did a terrible thing, straddling her chest and pissing. Karina
cried the first time, but before her departure she was drinking it. He
threatened to take her cherry if she didn't. She was almost fourteen,
going into the forest with a boy almost two years younger and letting
him urinate in her mouth. She licked his shithole, too, naked and
quivering, waiting for him to fuck her face and come and tell her she
was a toilet before opening wide for the warm pee. Now and then she
would puke. Watching her humiliation got him hard again, and Karina
would get on her hands and knees or lie on her back and hold her feet
while he fucked her butt, moaning.
Nobody else had ever pissed in her mouth, and Sergei didn't even have
anal sex with her. Like Daria, Karina hid her depravity behind her
beauty most of the time - but Karina had been with females, even if she
hadn't done anything kinky for a very long time. Her father had
penetrated her - even though it was always in her rectum, he'd been
inside her. He was still inside her, hurting her, just as part of her
was still in the woods drinking a young boy's urine. High school had
been a nightmare for her, listening to girls talk about guys and
thinking she was the only one to get naked for daddy. Really there were
other girls who shared her misery - she even knew one slightly, a
slender redhead named Natasha Fyodorova. Karina was attracted to her,
but Natasha never told her about not being able to sleep until the
middle of the night unless papa came to her, smothering her with kisses
and fingering her cunt before he raped her. Natasha felt like she was
suffocating when he slid into her slippery hole, and when she was
fifteen she had to have an abortion. Karina thought nobody else suffered
like she did - and the pleasure she felt magnified her suffering. She
needed the pain. She couldn't block out the memories - even at
twenty-nine, she still thought about everything she'd done, especially
with Dieter Schumacher. "Bist du meine Toilette, Karina?" "Da... ja..."
She remembered trying not to come when her father reamed her, and
wandering around Patriarch's Ponds looking for "friends" - men who could
tell that the tall blonde schoolgirl would lick and suck and swallow
their come. She still had visions of seeing Dr. Vasilyeva after her
father had started raping her, her buttocks and even her back striped
with telltale welts. "Who did this?" "A boy," Karina had said. "I... I
did it with a boy, and my father beat me..."
At twenty-nine, Karina was the mother of two children - a lonely
housewife. Despite the stranger experiences of her youth - or perhaps
because of them - she was timid, and unlike Daria she wouldn't have
spoken to a foreigner in a park. She wanted to be a good wife and mother
- but even then, some men saw through the fa?ade, like Sergei's friend
Fedya. She didn't think she'd given him the eye, but somehow Fedya knew
that she wouldn't tell her husband about getting raped. She didn't tell
anyone anything, and Fedya rekindled the crazy feelings she'd lately
only had when bathing her little boy. A week had gone by since she
kissed Pavel's penis for the first time, and she couldn't stop thinking
about his tiny pee-pee. The eight-year-old went to the toilet by
himself, of course, but Karina still thought about helping him when he
was younger. She thought about drinking Dieter's urine. She never told
anybody anything. Dieter never knew about what her father did - he saw
the marks from the whippings, but he thought that the bruise around her
anus was from other boys, or men. Her daddy had no idea that his
daughter still sucked cock, slinking off to the woods - he thought he'd
fixed her by punishing her, and after they moved to Berlin she didn't do
anything with anyone other than him until she passed out the party where
she met Sergei. Karina was glad she'd passed out, or she never would
have gotten away from her father - she remembered letting Sergei kiss
her before she lost consciousness, shaking, terrified because her body
belonged to her daddy - because another man would know it did. But
Sergei never asked her about her past. He didn't even notice that her
nether opening looked almost like a little pussy, the moist orifice
meant for a man's penis as much as it was meant for defecation. Karina
expected him to fuck it, and when a year had passed and he hadn't, she
started playing with candles. Fedya had touched it, teasing it with his
thumb when he raped her from behind. Karina wondered whether her
husband's friend could tell that she'd taken cock there - but he didn't
stick his dick in it despite the telltale way she squirmed. She couldn't
help squirming like that - but her hubby was a meat and potatoes man,
poking her snatch and pulling on her nipples until she squealed and her
vaginal muscles tightened around his rod. He didn't even realize that
she needed to be hurt more - she was afraid of him at first, especially
when he hit her, but after a few years she understood that he wasn't
taking her anywhere. He wasn't pushing her to the forest floor, making
her feel like the marionette who kept going to the park because of how
her body felt when men abused her. Karina put the candle in her mouth
after pushing it in and out of her tush. She needed that feeling, but
she was too timid to find another man.
Instead, she daydreamed about children. Unlike Daria, Karina knew that
some men were attracted to girls her daughter's age - she'd even noticed
that now and then men would even stare at her son. Karina knew that
Yelena wasn't interested in boys yet, except maybe in a childishly
romantic way. The eleven-year-old was very pretty, though, with her big
gray eyes and long, straight, platinum hair, clear skin and lips the
color of a watermelon's flesh. During the summer, Karina had bought
Yelena a sable skirt and taken it to the atelier to be shortened. She
would be tall, like her mother, and Karina liked her coltish legs - and
now and then men would look at her in the way they'd looked at Karina
when she was her age, before she began to do bad things. Karina couldn't
really remember what she was like before Alyona introduced her to
Tovarishch Bakunin at Patriarch's Ponds. She didn't remember ever being
innocent.
Daria had arranged to meet Gustav for lunch the next day, at the
Metropol - she took the clothes he'd bought her with her that morning,
hidden in a plain bag, stopping the elevator of the building she lived
in between floors to change. Everybody she worked with stared at her -
the blue silk dress was very obviously from a hard currency store. Daria
knew they were wondering how she got it - and she knew that at least
Lyuba probably thought she had prostituted herself. She tried to think
about how nice Gustav was to her - but whenever her co-workers looked at
her, she felt like she did in the dream about being naked in the hotel
restaurant. "Suka." At eleven o'clock Tovarishch Karimov called her into
his office. Lyuba sniggered. Daria had tears in her eyes when her boss
told her to lock the door behind her. She wanted to think about Gustav
and how kind he was - even if it wasn't true, even if she knew he was
only using her. Everybody used her. Daria sniffled and sat in Tovarishch
Karimov's lap.
"This is such a pretty dress, darling," he said, his Russian tinged
with a Central Asian accent. Daria tensed, wishing he would just tell
her to make him feel good. She wanted to get it over with, but
Tovarishch Karimov always wanted to talk. "Very pretty." He undid two of
the buttons and discovered the lacy black brassiere Gustav had gotten
for her diminutive breasts. "Very nice! Are you being a good girl, Daria?"
"Yes," Daria whispered, staring into what was called the "red corner,"
the part of offices reserved for Communist propaganda.
"But you haven't been, have you?" His voice took on a fatherly tone.
"Where did you get these pretty clothes, darling?" She began to sob, and
Tovarishch Karimov held her tightly, lifting her dress and fondling her
firm buttocks through the expensive silk of her brand new panties, his
fingers creeping into her crack. "Did a man buy them for you? Tell
daddy." He'd never asked her to call him daddy before. Daria couldn't
stop crying. "It's okay, honey. Daddy still loves you. Tell daddy about
the man."
He pulled her underwear aside and pushed his index finger into her
butt, slowly, getting her used to the familiar burning sensation. Daria
whimpered, the word "daddy" ringing in her ears. Tovarishch Karimov
withdrew the finger and brought it to her trembling lips. He'd never
done anything like that before, either. He usually took Soviet Vaseline
out of his desk drawer and lubricated her, or made her suck him.
Instead, she had to suck the finger. "Nyet..."
"Suck it," her boss said, his voice taking on a tone she'd never heard
in it before. He usually comforted her when he wasn't having anal
intercourse with her. Unlike Karina, she'd never tasted her own musk.
Squirming, she sucked on the dirty finger. "Do you like that, suka?"
Daria held his hand and sucked his forefinger like a little penis,
drooling. She did like it. Her twat was sopping wet. "Daddy" - everybody
was daddy to her then, her father and Dmitri, her boss and even Gustav -
told her to bend over the desk like he always did when he put his dick
in her ass, only he moistened it in her muff instead of using Vaseline.
He wasn't gentle like he usually was, and Daria made noise despite the
thinness of the office walls, gripping the edge of the desk and keening.
"Suka" did what she never had to do for her husband, grasping his prick
when he pulled it out and again demanded her mouth, kneeling, opening
wide and feeling it against her tongue, the shaft still filthy from her
rectum. He fucked her face, holding her by the hair and withdrawing long
enough to let her gasp for breath, saliva and bile staining the front of
her dress. Daria shuddered and shut her mouth. "Open it," he insisted,
and shoved it back in, making her gag again and again until he exploded.
She crumpled to the floor, crying.
He always kept a wet towel handy when he called her in, but he'd never
been brutal with her before. She was a mess, the dress soaked with
fluids. Stuffing his prick back into his pants, he sat down and lit a
Kosmos. He made her tell him about Gustav. Daria stayed on the floor,
racked with sobs, describing how Gustav fucked what Tovarishch Karimov
now called her "filthy little tailpipe." She didn't tell him about
posing for pictures - and she didn't mention her daughters. He didn't
know enough to ferret it out. After a while she whispered that she had
her other clothes with her, and he brought the bag from the outer
office. Daria changed into her cheap Soviet clothes, stuffing the
expensive dress back into the bag. She'd missed her lunch with Gustav,
but she couldn't have gone. She felt like a sewer - a manhole, her mouth
redolent of her anus for the rest of the workday, staggering out to
where her co-workers looked at her like she was garbage - she was
garbage, and she almost forgot her date with Karina until she left the
building. Her new friend was waiting for her by the main doors.
Karina could tell that something bad had happened to the strange
brunette, taking her to a nearby traktir. Daria wanted to dig a hole in
the ground and disappear, but a hundred grams of vodka revived her.
Without their families - both women had left notes for their husbands,
asking them to pick up their children at their schools and the day care
center - Karina and Daria were more relaxed, though neither of them went
to bars without their husbands. Daria's condition drew Karina to her,
and the vodka made her daring. She didn't cringe when Daria looked at
her chest like she had when they met. Instead, Karina looked at Daria's
little breasts - and Daria had taken off the bra because it had been
dirty, too. Karina could see her nipples, and Daria's deep blue eyes
were as aroused as they were. It was unmistakable - Daria was nervous,
but she was definitely turned on. Their faces were close enough for
Karina to smell the traces of what Tovarishch Karimov had done. Karina
had never really seduced anyone - she'd always let others make the
moves. Another vodka and she found her liquid courage.
"Your breasts are so nice," she whispered, touching Daria's shoulder.
Daria didn't know what to do. She'd never even fantasized about
actually doing something about the desire she sometimes felt for
attractive females - it was a terrible secret to her, like letting
Gustav take pictures of her and her daughters. She remembered trying to
talk to Galina, the classmate in high school who'd gotten raped. Karina
was different, and she wanted to be friends with her more than she
wanted anything in the world just then - she needed a friend, and she'd
never had a friend.
"Thank you," Daria said. "Yours, too." She blushed as she realized
that Karina hardly had any, even compared to hers. "I - I like small
breasts." That sounded stupid. "I mean, mine are small, too." That
sounded even more stupid. She took another swallow of Stolichnaya and a
sip of cranberry juice, flustered.
"You're beautiful, Daria," Karina said. "You must have many men after
you." It was easier to talk about men - Karina was terrified of losing
her. "I - I'm not faithful, either." It was true - but she'd never
thought of Fedya except as a rapist. She wanted to get personal with
Daria, and for some reason she felt a sense of urgency. There was
nowhere private they could go. They both had husbands and kids. Karina
knew that Sergei would beat her when she returned. She'd never gone out
without him in the evening before.
"I - there's - there's a man at work," Daria said, at a loss for words
but wanting to spill her guts. To her, Karina seemed strong and candid.
She took a deep breath. "He - my boss - he does things." She sounded
like her co-workers, complaining about men. Daria knew somehow that
Karina wouldn't see it like they did. "I do things with him."
"I do, too, with Sergei's friend," Karina said. It was easy to talk to
Daria. She felt like she was floating. "I like you so much," she
whispered, looking into her eyes.
Maybe they would have kissed if there hadn't been other people in the
traktir. Instead, Karina felt her friend's hand snake across her back to
her left hip.
"I like you, too," Daria answered, her voice low and inviting,
unfamiliar to her. "I - I like you a lot."
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
Daria was glad she asked. She'd wanted to ask, but it sounded too much
like what a boy would ask a girl, and she still wasn't sure if it was
really true - if Karina felt like she did. Ten minutes later they were
in a dark corner of a courtyard off the Arbat, smoking. Karina had never
taken the initiative, and for the first time in her life she couldn't
predict what would happen - her instinct was to submit to Daria, but the
kiss decided it. Karina would be the boy, at least for a while - Daria
would never have made a move, and when Karina kissed her she responded
like a kid sucking cock for the first time, trembling, her wet mouth
still filthy from what she'd done only a few hours earlier. Daria almost
wished that Karina were a man - only for an instant, until the thrill of
finally feeling someone like her set in, someone soft and leaky and
sick. They were both scared that someone would come, but they kissed for
a long time and felt each other up, fumbling under their skirts to touch
each other's crotches. Karina was wearing pantyhose, but only the little
black panties Gustav had given her covered Daria's cunt. Karina actually
slipped her finger into Daria's vagina. The place was too public, but
they almost lost control.
"Can we go somewhere?"
"Where?"
They didn't realize that they were both friendless. Fixing her skirt,
Daria tried to think of where she could borrow money to get a hotel
room, anything - and then she thought of Gustav. She didn't care about
him anymore - she didn't care about anybody except Karina - but she
blurted it out anyway. They were back on the Arbat, dazed, walking.
"I was supposed to meet someone," Daria said. "A man - maybe - he's a
German - he - maybe we could visit him?" She felt wild. Daria didn't
visit anyone. "But I ruined my dress!" She laughed, showing Karina the
bag. "Tovarishch Karimov - my boss - he ruined my dress!"
They were both drunk. Karina found some kopecks in her purse and they
searched for a pay phone that hadn't been vandalized. Daria dialed the
Metropol and asked for Gustav. She wasn't even afraid of what he would
say about her standing him up. She felt such confidence, as she'd never
felt before.
Gustav Meyer was in bed with a prostitute. He felt a flash of anger
when he heard Daria's drunken voice - but her apologies and the
realization that she wanted to come to the hotel, and with a friend,
soon soothed him. He liked Daria, he admitted to himself. She wasn't
just a screw, like the seventeen-year-old sprawled across the bed. Let
her sprawl, he thought - let Daria have a little shock, and who knew how
the evening might turn out? He lit a Davidoff and told the whore to stay
put, calling down to the desk to order more wine from the lugubrious
staff.
The night was young.