Comrade Captain Andreytov walked beside her on the stairs, holding her arm steady, protecting her from stumbling.
“I thought you were my friend,” Ekaterina muttered.
“We are all your friends here,” Andreytov replied. “That is proven by the fact that you are not to be permanently harmed and that Colonel Tretyakov wishes to give you a second chance.”
“But you intend to torture me first.”
“We intend to punish you, and there can be no punishment without pain.”
They had reached the lower floor. Clerks and secretaries looked at them curiously, and then hastily looked away again. And in front of her was another flight of steps, these also leading downwards, to the basement.
She shuddered; she had been here before, if not in this building. The cell floor at the SVR Institute in Moscow was surprisingly similar, save that there were no barred cells here, merely closed doors, although they all had their own sliding inspection hatch.
But the room at the end of the corridor was different, and again Ekaterina’s knees threatened to give way, so much so that Andreytov’s grip tightened and jerked her upright.
“Listen,” he said in a low voice, “let me give you some advice. Do not attempt to resist these people who will carry out the Comrade Colonel’s orders. Submit to everything without a word. But when they hurt you, forget your pride and scream as loudly as you can. This will please them. But if they feel you are defying them, even in your mind, they will wish to hurt you more than ever.”
“But are you not one of them?” Ekaterina replied quietly, “… Will you not be hurting me as well?”
“Yes, I will be hurting you, and I will enjoy doing so, because it is always enjoyable to hurt a beautiful, wilful woman, but that does not mean I wish you to be destroyed.”
Because you are hoping to have the opportunity to work me over again sometime, Ekaterina thought to herself. Andreytov was holding the door for her again, most politely, but inside the room there waited two more men. Both were large, and wore their shirt sleeves rolled up. They had been looking rather bored, but their eyes brightened at the sight of Ekaterina.
She entered the room, and the heavily padded door clicked shut behind her. She waited, keeping absolutely still, trying to convince herself that this was going to be nothing worse than a visit to the dentist.
“Would you undress, please,” Andreytov asked courteously. Ekaterina looked at the Captain.
The Basement of the Russian Federation, Washington DC
“You have made such an effort to impress the Colonel today Agent Novikova, you would not like that lovely skirt or top to be torn, now would you?” Andreytov asked, “… so please, come along, Ekaterina,” Andreytov continued. “You need to take everything off for us. The sooner we get it done the sooner it will be over.”
The two men’s eyes gleamed some more, as did Andreytov’s as he smiled and said simply, “Proceed.”
“You really mean for me to be totally naked?”
“Yes.” Was his unambiguous response.
These men reeked of sexual desire, and even though they were carrying out orders, it was obvious that they clearly intended to enjoy doing so. Ekaterina opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again without speaking; to protest would be a waste of time, and might merely make things worse.
“Do not make them think you are resisting them,” Andreytov had said.
“I will help you.” The Captain’s words were spoken with a smirk.
Shaking her head, “No … thank you,” Ekaterina stepped back and loosened the zipper on the skirt, which, following an unwittingly provocative wiggle of her hips, slipped down her legs to pool at her ankles. She stepped free of it allowing the garment to be picked up by Andreytov. The Captain stood smiling at her, and the beautiful Agent, standing only in her tight red sweater, white panties and matching hold up stockings, knew what was expected of her.
“Panties.”
“Comrade Captain, please …”
“Every lost second increases your punishment Agent Novikova.”
With a whimper she tugged the skimpy white underwear free from her sticky mound, and, after pulling the panties away from her feet, she threw them at her voyeuristic colleague, who simply nodded in response as he caught them.
Without any further unnecessary delay, Ekaterina gripped the red top at either side before pulling upwards.
Her fingers were nimble, and drew a deep breath, knowing that she wore no bra (she had not been expected to be ordered to strip), and that, in addition to her denuded pussy, her naked breasts were now also about to be exposed. She stood momentarily with her arms covering her exposed flesh. A simple nod from the Comrade Captain and her arms were dropped so that her nudity was completely exposed.
With the red sweater pooled around Ekaterina’s ankles, stockings too, all eyes were now very much on her, as she stood naked before them, embarrassed and humiliated.
“I will take care of the garments for you,” Andreytov offered as he collected everything together and folded her clothing neatly. Ekaterina endeavoured not to meet anyone’s eye; she had never felt so vulnerable.
Then the cold of the stone floor struck upwards through her body and she could feel her nipples hardening.
Don’t think, she told herself. Don’t think about anything.
“Now use the toilet,” Andreytov commanded.
Ekaterina looked from him to the open toilet against the far wall in consternation. She had never done that before another person in her life, not her adult life at least.
“We don’t want a mess, do we?” Andreytov asked.
She stood up uncertainly, crossed the floor, and obeyed the command; it actually was very necessary and a considerable relief.
“Now stand against the bar,” Andreytov commanded.
Ekaterina had not noticed the bar before; she had been too busy trying not to look at any of her surroundings. The bar, a rounded steel tube, was positioned to one side of the room, raised horizontally some three feet from the floor upon two other rounded steel tubes. These had grooves into which the parallel bar fitted, and handles by which it could be raised and lowered as required.
She drew a deep breath, then stood up and slowly crossed the floor. Her knees felt weak and she almost fell. This time no one assisted her.
But she had no doubt that if she did fall she would be dragged to her feet, and the thought of them touching her was unbearable. She reached the bar and stood against it; the steel pressed against her thighs.
“Bend over,” Andreytov commanded.
Ekaterina obeyed, bending from the waist, every muscle tensed, because now she knew she was going to be touched, as intimately and indecently as it was possible to imagine. One of the men came into view as he stood in front of her, grasped her right arm, and pulled it down, so that she all but toppled over, prevented from actually falling only by the bar. Then Ekaterina saw the handcuffs attached to a ring in the floor.
He did the same to her left wrist. Before he had finished, she felt other hands on her legs, as they were pulled apart and each ankle in turn attached to another pair of handcuffs.