Two Tourists: Tale & Sequel

"Helen's not involved - she was only traveling with me! You can't hold her responsible! Everything that was found was in my suitcase- and I paid for every bit of it!"

"In that case", Vassily went on, "it is possible there will not be charges against her. But it is too early to say. We will need some statements from both of you--"

"I've told you enough! I know how you people try to get confessions, and I am not about to do something like that! I want a proper legal defense, and I want to talk to the consulate! And Helen's innocent - you can release her right now! You're nothing but a cheap bureaucrat trying to flout your authority! And I won't put up with it!"

Her harangue went on as she continued to protest. The officer's patience was coming to an end. He was visibly upset.

"Miss Bradley, do you understand your position? You are in serious trouble, and you're going to make it worse! It will be much easier if you will cooperate--"

"Cooperate?" she exploded. "Why should I cooperate? You just want me to confess to something you're going to dream up, so you can make a few points by shoving your stupid laws down the throats of foreign tourists! Your government wants us to come here and spend money, which is what we did! Why should I cooperate with your ridiculous bureaucratic obsessions?"

Vassily had had enough. He summoned an aide, allowing Irma to go on with her tirade.

He spoke to the aide in Russian, then addressed Irma in clear English. "Miss Bradley, I think you are not ready to cooperate with us. We need to allow you some time to consider your position. This man will take you to a place where you may do just that, and we will discuss the matter later. Go - now, with him!" He spoke briefly to the aide, then waved his hand for her to leave.

Irma walked out, her head high and her rage unabated. She had not understood the instructions Vassily had given to his aide. Perhaps it was just as well, for what he had said, roughly translated, was "This woman is becoming haughty and arrogant. I do not like arrogance. Take her away, and bring her back to me in three hours. She is in your care; but when you bring her back, I want her naked and holding a full bladder. We will see how arrogant she is then!"

Chapter 3

Preparation

Irma found herself escorted down a hall and back to the room where she had been earlier held, and where Helen awaited. Her escort motioned for her to enter and be seated. Still furious, her rage evident in her expression, she complied, returning a defiant scowl to her escort.

"What happened?" Helen inquired. "He wouldn't listen to much. But he didn't really do anything, either. Just told the guy in the uniform to bring me back later. Sounds like they're going to make us wait a while, or maybe he's just trying to think up how to handle us. He wouldn't really dare to do anything serious! I'm -" She was cut off, as the man who had escorted Irma now motioned for Helen to come with him.

Helen waited. There was no one around except the female guard, who obviously didn't speak English. Irma helped herself to a bit of the water, and tried to calm herself down. Despite her outward defiance, she was beginning to be concerned over where this might lead. She hope Helen wouldn't be put through anything difficult. She waited.

Nearly an hour later, Helen was returned. "He just asked a lot of questions. He did seem reasonably polite, and said I shouldn't worry - I would probably not be charged with anything serious!" Helen smiled a weak smile.

"Dad he say anything about me?" asked Irma.

"No - except to say he would see you again, later. I don't know if he wants me back."

The uniformed escort disappeared for a time. Irma and Helen both helped themselves to a bit of the water. Then Helen rose and headed for the room which held the toilet. She glanced at the guard, who nodded permission. Irma waited.

In a few minutes, Helen was back. "You want to go? No telling how long we'll be here!" Irma considered her physical needs, then arose moving toward the door.

This time the female guard called to her, saying something she could not understand. She motioned Irma back to the bench on which she had been sitting. "I'm only going to the bathroom", Irma protested, now rather weakly. The guard shook her head. "Nyet!" she intoned. Irma understood at least that word. "Seems like she doesn't want me to get up", Irma said, half to herself, as she sat down again. "Do you really need to go, or were just going because I suggested it?" Helen asked, not too helpfully. "I'm not really needing to go too much, but I wonder why she won't let me", Irma pondered.

They were kept waiting almost another hour. Then the uniformed escort returned. He approached Irma. "Come", he instructed, calmly. Irma looked at him, then at Helen. "Guess this is my time in the ring again. Be back when I can!" Helen grasped her hand briefly. "Good luck", she admonished.

The escort, who seemed to go by the name or nickname of Durv, took Irma down a hall and up a flight of stairs. She was taken into a room where there were some chairs, some shelves holding books and an assortment of objects, and two desks. The floor was a bit dirty, and on the wall were pictures which appeared to be representative of revolutionary heroes. Durv ordered her to sit in his broken, limited, and heavily accented English,

He handed her a sheaf of papers, in Russian. "You - case - charge. Read!" he pointed to the papers. Irma returned a blank look after she thumbed through the documents, all in cyrillic print which she couldn't decipher.

They exchanged words in their limited command of each other's language. She gathered the papers were the charges against her, but she had no clear idea what the papers meant.

Next, Durv presented her with a large glass of water. He told her to drink it. "Why?" she demanded. "I'm not thirsty!"

"You drink. Drink all of it. Then photo."

She figured out that she was to drink the water, and they were going to photograph her. Standard mug shot, she assumed. Inwardly she felt defiant, but she was wondering where all this was leading. She couldn't see the harm in the water, so perhaps it was a gesture of hospitality after the long wait she had been through. She disliked the idea of a mug shot, but she knew to herself that it was probably inevitable. The picture would undoubtedly be unflattering, but why fight it? Perhaps it would be better to save her energies for later.

Irma downed the water. She reflected that she would be more comfortable if the female guard had allowed her to use the bathroom, but maybe, she hoped, there would be another chance soon. She hoped the wait wouldn't be too long.

The water downed, Durv directed her across the hall to a room that was obviously where they did the mug shots. A camera was at one side of the room, facing a wall with a large white rectangle painted on it, obviously as a background for photographs. Markings along the edge of the rectangle appeared to be dimensions. As she entered, two men stood up, looking at her rather curiously.

She was positioned in front of the camera, her back to the wall. Something in Russian was exchanged among the two men and Durv. The camera was focused on her, and a quick picture was taken of her, apparently head and shoulders only. It was repeated in profile.

Irma thought she was through. She was in error. Durv escorted her out of the room. He tried to explain to her. "Photo must have no make-up. You must wash face - no lipstick, no - no eye black, no nothing. Then we come back!"

She understood they wanted to photograph her with no make-up. She was wearing a bit of lipstick, a touch of eye shadow. She didn't think it made that much difference. Anyway, he took her into a lavatory. There was a sink and a toilet. He stood behind her.

She took a paper towel, and the bar of soap she found on the sink, and began to clean her face. Once she had finished the task, she turned to face him. He looked her over, nodding approval. "OK", he responded. "Take out clamps on hair!" She hesitated, then realized he was referring to two clips that held her hair. She removed them. Her hair fell, a bit tousled. She wanted to comb it, but there was no comb. He seemed to approve her appearance, and motioned her to leave.

Irma tried to stall. She indicated the toilet. "May I? Would you give me a minute?"

He clearly understood, but he gave her an immediate and quite negative response. "No - Nyet! Not now. Do photos!"

She was ushered back into the photo room. They took two more head shots, full face and profile.

Then she was positioned against the wall, her back to it, as the camera was readjusted for what obviously was to be a full length photograph. The men checked her height, then communicated among themselves for a moment. Durv was apparently chosen to give her the next instruction.

He pointed to a cardboard box laid on a table, as he addressed her. "We must have photo of all body. No clothes. You must put clothes in the box. Now!" He was emphatic.

She was totally unprepared for this. "You want me to undress?" she asked, incredulous. "Here?"

He repeated the command, firmly. "You must take off clothes. We must make photo of all body - with no clothes on. You get ready!"

She looked at the three men who stood watching her calmly. Clearly they were expecting her to obey. She had never in her wildest dreams expected this. This was outrageous. Thy wanted to photograph her in the nude. In her mind she wrestled with how to resist.

"I don't see why- this is unnecessary! You can't make me! You have no right to!" Her face reddened with restrained fury. She wanted to run, to escape, to show defiance - but she knew she had little hope. Clearly she was outnumbered. Physically she had no chance of overpowering the men.

Durv became impatient. "Now! You must take off clothes for photo! You not be hurt! No harm! Just photo! You must do! If you do not, we must take off - by us! Maybe - clothes get torn! You do - we - not hurt you!" He was trying to be reassuring, but nonetheless was firm.

She stalled a moment more, looking at the three men, all standing, patiently waiting for her compliance. She looked at the large box on the table. She started to slip her jacket from her shoulders. Carefully, she folded it and placed it in the box. She unfastened her belt, and slipped it from her pants, rolling it then placing it in the box. She pointed to her feet. "Shoes?" she asked.

"Off. Everything off." Durv responded. His instruction, she reflected, was clear enough.

She sat on a chair, removing her shoes and socks. She took off the bracelet and necklace she had on, along with her wrist watch. She hoped they would allow her to put these on again after the photos, though she was harboring a bit of doubt.

She stood, unfastening the pants of her pantsuit, then stepping out of them. Her blouse was white and long enough to cover her almost to her thighs. Small comfort, she thought - it would have to be next. She stalled as long as possible, carefully folding the pants as she placed them in the box.

Then she unbuttoned the blouse, trying to turn from the men as she did so. Slipping the blouse off, she folded it carefully, as she stood in her white bra and underpants. She knew she was blushing, and she averted the men's eyes as she positioned herself for the next move. Reaching behind her, she unfastened the bra, then quickly drew it from her shoulders, exposing her white breasts. She felt embarrassed at displaying her breasts bare, but even more so because she was withdrawing their support. She hated being braless, knowing her breasts drooped a bit. She thought the droop was sloppy, and she felt the humiliation intensely as her breasts shook a bit with her movements. Trying hard to keep them still, she knew she could not. As she folded the bra into the box, she became aware of her nipples, quite erect, though whether from the exposure or the coolness of the room she could not tell. She just wished the erections weren't so obvious.

Facing the men, yet averting their eyes, she grasped the top of her panties with both hands and then drew them down in a single quick stroke, then stepped out of them. She dropped them roughly into the box, then stepped back against the wall, in the position she assumed was required.

The two photographers looked at her for a moment before acting. Then one approached her, moving her arms and legs into the position they wanted. They took one full frontal photo of her standing stiffly, legs together. Then they moved into a large "X" position, her legs spread apart, her arms stretched upward and outward.

She was then put in a profile position, with her arms behind her back. They took another photo of her from the rear. Finally they had her stand in profile, hands behind her back, but bending over from the waist almost ninety degrees. She couldn't figure out why they wanted this, unless it was to show how far her unsupported breasts would hang.

Finally, they seemed finished. She had expected they would now return her clothes to her. Instead, she was startled to see one of the men close up the box containing her clothes, tape it shut, and then call for her to write across the tape. She assumed this was a way of guaranteeing that she had witnessed the sealing of her belongings.

Durv now opened the door and told her to come back across the hall. Again, she was incredulous. He was asking her to step out into the hall naked. She had not a stitch on, not even her watch or her hair clips. Even her make-up had been washed off. She felt not only unclothed, but vulnerable and a real mess with her hair falling about, uncombed and unclipped.

Durv told her to stand, her hands behind her. She saw him reach into the desk and take out a pair of handcuffs. He walked behind her and cuffed her hands together. Then he sat back down behind the desk, leaving her standing, hands cuffed behind her, as she faced him. For several minutes he said nothing, just sat there looking at her from time to time as he occasionally glanced at papers on his desk.

Irma stood, almost motionless. She was stark naked, barefoot, unable to use her hands to cover herself. She wanted to sit, to try to keep just a little of her modesty, but she was not permitted. Now she was becoming even more uncomfortable from her full bladder she had been unable to relieve.

Chapter 4

Interrogation

It had been nearly three hours since Irma had been in Vassily's office. Since leaving there earlier, she had been allowed drinks of water, even told to consume a large glass. She had been given no food, not that she was hungry. Now she was naked, her clothes in a sealed box somewhere, her face cleaned of make-up, her hair in disarray, her hands in handcuffs behind her back, as she stood waiting in a policeman's office. She felt terribly exposed and humiliated, she was getting tired of standing, and her full bladder was crying for the relief she had been denied.

Durv left the room for a moment, closing the door. He had instructed her to stay in position. Within a minute he was back. He left the door open, and through it two other men outside peered in at her. "Now", he commanded her, "We go!" He indicated the door, and ushered her through it.

She was led back down the hall, the stairs, the hall downstairs, all the way to the office where Vassily had earlier questioned her. She was having to walk barefoot, naked, exposed to the view of numerous people who stood about. Finally she was escorted into Vassily's office. Durv came in with her, and closed the door behind her. Vassily sat behind his large wooden desk, and a uniformed aide sat nearby. Irma was made to stand in front of the desk.

Vassily conversed briefly with Durv, in Russian. He looked at Irma's naked body, missing absolutely nothing. For a minute or two he kept her standing there while he just looked, in silence.

Then he spoke to her, in his best English. "Miss Bradley, you do look a bit different from your appearance in our earlier visit. I hope you have not been treated too harshly."

There were traces of tears in her eyes, eyes that still projected a somewhat subdued defiance. "Why have you done this to me? You made me take my clothes off, your men took pictures of me with no clothes on, and now you keep me naked! And they haven't let me use a bathroom! Are you trying to torture me? You have absolutely no right! I'm American--"

Vassily cut her off. "We know who you are, Miss Bradley. The photographs are customary when charges are brought. We must be able to positively identify you for any future proceedings. I am sorry if you find it unpleasant, but we find it necessary. The photos will show whether you have any physical markings or signs of injury. We intend to make it very clear that you have not been harmed."

"Why am I not allowed to use a bathroom? I have asked and your guards won't allow me!"

"Are you telling me you feel a need for physical relief?" Vassily asked, as though unaware of her condition.

"Yes! I am very uncomfortable. Will you allow me?" Irma asked, nervously and hurriedly.

"Allow you what?" asked Vassily.

"Allow me to use a bathroom - a toilet!"

"Exactly what do you need to do?" Vassily inquired, obviously prolonging the matter.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? What do think I need?" Irma was indignant and increasingly irritated. Vassily gave her no answer. He waited for her next comment.

"I need to urinate! I have a full bladder! They made me drink water. Is that what you wanted to hear me say?"

Vassily smiled. "It is helpful when you are honest with us. I understand what you want. There are some things we want, too, and I hope you will continue to be honest and open. If you are ready to discuss the matters we had on the table earlier, we can proceed. I find that sometimes it is helpful if we clearly understand each other's needs and are open to each other. I know you have some needs, but I must ask you to restrain those needs a bit longer while we go into other matters. You are, I might observe, a bit more open, so to speak. Your clothes will be returned to you at the proper time. At the moment we are keeping you without clothing, so you are not concealing any of your physical self from us. Perhaps this will encourage you not to attempt to conceal any of the other matters, either. If you will be as open in our discussion as you are in your physical state, we should be able to clear up these things rather soon. Your physical relief must wait, also; but we will allow you relief at the appropriate time."

Irma squirmed noticeably. She was sweating, just a bit. Her discomfort was obvious and growing. Her full bladder was more than just uncomfortable, it was beginning to be painful. She attempted to squeeze her legs together, but it was little help. She desperately needed to relieve herself.

Vassily went on to ask her about transactions she might have had with the money she had brought in. He probed carefully, seeking to know where she acquired the icons. Irma was inwardly furious; outwardly defiant. She wanted desperately to cover herself from the gaze of the men questioning her, but even more she wanted relief for her aching bladder.

After a few minutes she blurted out, "If you don't allow me to use a toilet, you're going to have a puddle on your floor! I can't hold myself any longer!"

Vassily simply stopped his questions and stared at her for a moment in silence. "I think, Miss Bradley, that would be most unwise. If you are unable to properly control your body functions, we can have you taken out in the street, where you can display your body and its functioning in front of all those who care to watch, until you develop the proper amount of discipline and self restraint."

"You wouldn't dare!" Irma lashed back.