Two Tourists: Tale & Sequel

The senior officer passed down the line, inspecting the women as they held this odd posture. To some he ordered them to pull wider or higher, to some he nodded approval.

Finally, he seemed satisfied. He gave a command. Titania, almost needlessly, translated for Irma. "Pee - let all water out!" The women enthusiastically complied.

Relieved, they were allowed to release their breasts and draw their legs together. They were kept waiting a few more minutes, then they were escorted inside to the room where their ordeal had begun.

The chains were taken off. They waited. From time to time a guard would appear, call a name, and take a woman from the room. Irma just waited.

After a time, a man appeared and motioned to Irma. She was led from the room, back to the office where she had been interrogated by Vassily.

She was ushered into his office, still naked, barefoot, a bit smellier and dirtier than yesterday. He looked up from the desk and greeted her.

"Well. You are back. And how were you treated today?"

"You know how I was treated. I was chained to eight other women, and we were paraded around the streets with no clothes on. Strange men were allowed to handle us, and we were denied use of bathrooms. We had to relieve ourselves, when they allowed us, in front of crowds!"

"And have you learned cooperation?"

"I've learned your people can humiliate and degrade us."

"I see your attitude is a bit calmer. I'm not hearing threats from you. Would you like another day like today?" Vassily's question seemed rhetorical.

"No. I would not." Irma wondered what would be next.

"Would you like to be allowed to wear clothes?"

"Of course. Do you think I enjoy being paraded like cattle?"

"Then I have some news for you. After our little lesson in attitude improvement, I sense you are being more cooperative. We have no wish to hold you beyond what is needed to teach you cooperation with us and respect for our laws. I have been authorized to release you on your own recognizance and send you home, in the custody of your companion, Helen. You will be taken to your cell for tonight. In the morning your friend has been notified she can pick you up here, but she must then take you immediately out of the country."

"And will I be given my clothes back now?"

"In the morning, not now. You will spend the night without them. You can be taken back to your cell, now."

Irma turned to leave. Vassily called to her, "You know, I rather like seeing you naked - it certainly has improved your attitude!"

Irma turned away and left with her escort. Inwardly, she fumed a bit at Vassily's last comment. Then she thought better of it.

PART II

Chapter 6

Return

It was fifteen years after her experience that Irma returned. She was fifty three now, and went by Irma Mitchell, the name she had acquired twelve years earlier at her marriage to James Mitchell. Children had been born to the marriage, but they were now of an age that they could be left to the care of others, and Jim and Irma were able to travel a bit. They had lived a fairly conservative life, and now had amassed enough affluence to be able to see just a bit of the world together - something Irma had largely given up when her children were born.

Jim knew a bit of Irma's unpleasant sojourn in the old Soviet Union, but he had never been there himself. Now, at long last, the two of them were able to have a lengthy holiday in Europe, and Jim had insisted that the countries of the old Soviet Union be part of the itinerary. They had been to Moscow and St. Petersburg, and then had booked a few days in the Ukraine.

Once they had been two days in Kiev, Jim chanced to look over a map posted in their hotel. "The place where you had all the trouble before, can you show it to me here?" he asked of his wife.

Irma studied the map. She could trace the sites of most of her earlier exploits from memory. She pointed out the place where she and Helen had tried to exit the country. Then she frowned a bit.

"The place where we were taken was Novorosk - it's not a very big town, but, let me see if I can find it." She studied the surrounding area of the map carefully. Finally she exclaimed, "Here it is! That's the place! I wasn't quite sure how to find it, but I'll never forget it. We spent several days there, and oh, what an experience!"

"Yes, you've told me a bit about it. In fact, from what you've said, I always wanted a chance to see it myself. You're sure that's it?"

"Yes, indeed. I could never forget the name - or a couple of the town squares! I wonder if they've changed it much?"

They talked a bit of their itinerary. Jim was intensely interested in seeing the place of his wife's misadventures, and she seemed mildly interested in seeing the place again, too. The consulted the hotel concierge. After a couple of hours, they had booked a hotel in Novorosk and a train to take them there the following day.

Things were a bit freer now than they had been fifteen years earlier, Irma noted, and she felt more at ease in traveling back to the place she remembered so well, yet with such awful memories to her. The train trip was long and a bit complex, but they arrived at a small, somewhat run-down train station the following evening.

From the station they took a taxi to the small hotel. It was one of the only two in town, she discovered. "Did you stay here before?" Jim asked her, as they approached the hotel entrance.

"I didn't need a hotel. The local police put me up all the time I was here. I hope, though, that these accommodations are a bit better! The station was lacking a few conveniences!"

"Such as? Didn't you have a private room with a bath?" Jim smiled a bit as he tweaked her memory.

"Private room, if you want to call it that! Yes, and a toilet. A personal toilet, but nothing private about it. Anyone who was near was watching when I used it! That is, when they allowed me to use it!" She shook her head at the now distant memory, still vivid in her mind.

They checked into a room and made ready for bed. The next day Irma had promised to take Jim on a tour of the sights she remembered.

Morning came, though they were up none too early. After breakfast, they acquired a rather poor map of the city, and set out on their tour.

The streets were much as Irma recalled them. Little seemed to have changed. "Sure you're not lost?" he asked her. "Are you going by looks of things, smells, or just feeling your way?"

"I ought to take off my shoes," Irma joked. "I never walked on these streets in shoes before. I can still remember how they felt on my bare feet!" She shuddered a moment at the recollection.

"Bare feet? I don't remember that part of the story? Did they keep your shoes too?" Perhaps, Irma thought, Jim was kidding her a bit. "When I walked here before," she went on, emphatically, "I had bare feet, bare legs, and absolutely bare everything. There wasn't one thread of cloth or anything else on my body, except of course for the cords on my hands and that damned chain around my midsection." She shuddered again, her face turning to a frown.

She pointed out to Jim some of the sights she did remember. "After all, you know I spent hours just standing still in the squares - I had lots of time to memorize how things looked!" Suddenly, as they turned a corner, her face lit up, and she exclaimed, "There - right there! That's the square we stood in. I'll never forget it. There were nine of us, all chained in a line, and they stood us right there, against that wall. See? There's the post over there - they fastened an end of the chain to that post! And, behind us," she gestured to the opposite side, as they turned, "there was a crowd of people standing over there - a crowd that got bigger and bigger through the day! They all stared at us! Oh, I wish I could have fallen into the pavement! Ugh! The things they did to us - we were full of water, we weren't allowed to pee, and if we did they let the men come up and put their hands on our - well, all over us!" Her expression was one of great distaste.

"Looks pretty dead, now," Jim observed. There were no crowds, only two or three pedestrians passing through.

"No naked women for them to look at!" Irma noted.

She recounted to Jim more of the events of her first visit, as they found other places she remembered, including the police station and the square with the flower garden.

Later, over lunch, she went again over some of the events now being pulled from her memory. Her husband seemed a bit mystified at her detailed recollections.

"If the memory is so awful, why did you want to come here? I know I wanted to see it, but that's because of your experiences. But you seemed to enjoy going back to these places, and every time you tell me more, you act like the memory is making you sick."

She thought a bit. "I don't know. It was an awful experience. I would never have wished it on anyone. Yet, as I look back on it, in a way I'm rather glad it happened. Now I know that's a strange thing to say. It was horribly humiliating and painful - especially in certain places. But, I wasn't really harmed, I wasn't raped, no one beat me; and I did live through it. In a way, I know I probably deserved some of it. I had been pretty arrogant with the customs and police, and I think I learned to be at least a little more diplomatic. Or, maybe you don't think so!"

Jim said nothing, communicating only in a knowing smile. He well knew his strong willed wife and her occasional hot temper. He knew she could indeed get herself in trouble with her quick tongue.

Irma went on. "In a crazy kind of way, it was one of the most erotic experiences I'd had. You know I don't take off my clothes in public, but here I was paraded all over town with nothing on. Bare feet yet. And going to the bathroom in front of everybody; and them handling me and making fun of my most personal parts. I wouldn't have chosen to do it, but it was done to me! Thank goodness all those people were strangers - I never had to look them in the face again!"

"Think they'd recognize you with clothes on? Some of them may be around now!"

"Would you want me to give them a chance to recognize me like they saw me before?" Irma asked, jokingly.

"Never can tell. Someone might remember you then. Who knows?" Now Jim was joking.

"Nonetheless, it was a strange experience. But I have to admit, it wasn't all terrible. It was scary, but in a way, some it was - well, not really fun, you could never call it that, but a bizarre kind of experience that wasn't quite all unpleasant. At least, now that I'm looking back on it and know I came out of it OK!"

Once again they passed the police station. Irma mused, "I wonder if they still have those photos they took of me in there". She shivered in disgust. "I'd never been photographed naked! Not even for baby pictures. But they took those shots of me, well, all over, and in the most revealing poses! Jim, can you imagine how I felt?"

"I'm trying to put myself in your shoes, but no one really can. If I had seen it, I would have felt awful for you - sympathy, anyway; but no, unless it happened to you, you can't really know how it felt. In a way, I wish I could share it with you!"

They walked back to the square that had the flower bed. It was now mid afternoon, and they saw a small crowd congregated at one point in the square. The went over to see what was the object of interest.

They found an artist at work, an older man, perhaps sixty, with a cap, and old suit, and graying black hair. He sat on a chair in the square at an easel, making a sketch of a girl who was posing in front of him. The girl was standing behind a chair, leaning over it slightly. Her blouse was slightly unbuttoned, and she was showing considerable cleavage. Irma looked at the artist's rendition of the scene.

"You know, he's quite good. Some of these street artists have real talent!"

"Here's some of his work," Jim observed, seeing a group of sketches and portraits set up beside his chair. Several were of young women, and two were nudes. There were also depictions of children and older men.

"Would you like him to do you?" Jim asked, "Really, he seems to do good work. Couldn't be too expensive, and it looks like he works fast!"

"No", Irma replied, deep in thought as she looked over the sample portraits. She studied them carefully, then suddenly her face brightened. "Yes! Yes! I'd like him to do one of me - but I want it in a very special setting! Let's see if he'll do it!"

Jim had learned not to be surprised as what his wife did. He wondered what she had in mind, suspecting it would be something radical. His suspicions proved correct.

Once the artist had finished the girl's portrait, Irma and Jim approached him. He could manage only a few words of English, but they went to work with gestures, facial expressions, and markings on their town map.

Irma managed to get across to him that she wanted a portrait of herself, to be done at the other square; the one at which she had first been chained to the post. She indicated with the help of her watch that she would need to get ready for the portrait, and they agreed it could be started there in about an hour. Irma indicated she would go to the hotel to prepare herself and then return; Jim would stay with the artist as a guarantee of payment and to direct him to the right place.

The artist seemed to want to know if Irma would be sitting for her portrait, or with her husband, or how she would be. Irma immediately stood straight up, pointing to herself, and stood with her feet apart, her hands behind her, and again indicated herself, nodding. Then she motioned to Jim, and indicated "no". Then she pointed to one of the portraits the artist had on display. She indicated it, and then pointed to herself, nodding affirmatively.

Jim stood in shock as he realized the picture she had indicated for a sample was one of the two nudes.

"What are you going to do?" He asked, a bit worried.

"Jim, you stay with him. Be sure he gets there. Look, I know you'll think I'm crazy, but I want to do this. It's my only chance, and I want to pose the way I was those fifteen years ago. Right where it happened. I know it sounds absurd, but I just want to live through a little part of that experience again, to stand there the way it happened, naked and with a belly full of water I'm trying to hold - I want to live that part of it again, but this time on my terms. I want you to see it, and then you can share the memory with me!"

Jim stood, a bit perplexed. "Are you trying to wind up in jail? This isn't the police doing it - it's you. Irma, you just don't do things like this - it's not you!"

"Watch me. And I don't think anything will happen from the police. Jim, I just have an inner urge- I can't really explain, but I want to do it. Indulge me a bit!"

Assuring him she would be all right, she left him with the artist as she headed the short distance back to the hotel. Jim was filled with trepidation - he had no idea what to expect of her. He tried to settle the deal with the artist, observing that the day was drawing late, and in another couple of hours the light might be fading.

Back at the hotel, Irma hurriedly went up to their room. Once inside, she picked up two large bottles of drinking water provided for them, and put the first to her lips, gulping it rapidly. She kicked off her shoes, and began discarding her clothes into a pile on the bed. She searched through her suitcase for a small package containing a carefully folder plastic raincoat, which she kept for weather emergencies.

Having consumed the first bottle of water, she started on the second. She slipped her feet into a pair of sandals, replacing the walking shoes she had kicked off. "I suppose it should be barefoot" she mused to herself, "but I'm not going to risk my bare feet on that rough pavement when it may get dark. These will give me a little protection."

She slipped on the raincoat, having stripped off all of her clothing, and turned to the mirror to tidy up her hair and make-up. Satisfied with her appearance, she picked up a large shopping bag and dropped into it the case for the raincoat. Carrying nothing else, she took the bag and left the room, going down to the reception desk.

At reception she requested two more bottles of drinking water, then signed for the charges to their room account, and put the bottles into her shopping bag. She drew some stares from the reception clerk as he perceived her odd attire, a raincoat on a dry day, with no signs of other clothing under it.

Irma headed for the square she had selected as the scene for her portrait. Arriving there, she found Jim awaiting her. Several bystanders had accompanied him, evidently curious as to what was going to occur. The artist had not yet arrived, but Jim indicated he was coming.

"Great," said Irma. Let's get ready. I want to be facing the square, standing close to that post - because that's the way it was. I want you to watch while he does the portrait. And there's one thing more - you wanted to know how I felt, so I'm going to help you. I have two liters of water here - I just drank that much in the hotel, and I want you to drink the same amount here. When you have a belly full of water and it starts going through you, you'll soon know how I felt."

"Why did you have to drink it now? For the portrait?"

"I want to look the way I did. Well - I can't do anything about the damage fifteen years have done, but I want to feel and pose the way I was. And I was full of water - to the brim. I am now - and I know what it's going to do to me in a little while. It's part of the experience I want to relive, and let him record what he sees of it!"

Jim had great difficulty understanding his wife's intentions. However, he wanted to please her, and he began to drink the water while he waited for the artist. Irma stood by, in her raincoat, a gathering crowd looking at her in wonder.

After half an hour or so, the artist arrived and began to set up his equipment. Irma was standing in the place she wanted to pose, and she waited for him to arrange his easel and tools. Eventually he seemed to have everything in order. He sat beside the easel and looked to Irma. His look and gesture asked if she was ready. In answer, she removed her sandals and passed them to her husband.

Irma quickly unfastened the raincoat, dropped it off in one sweeping gesture, and passed it quickly to Jim. Then she resumed her pose, now completely naked, full face to the artist, her legs slightly spread, her hands clasped behind her.

A gasp went up from some of the onlookers. There was now a crowd of perhaps twenty people, both men and women, watching the proceedings.

Irma held her pose, standing motionless, not speaking. While her hands were untied, she held them behind her as they had been once bound. The lowering sun streamed into the square, lighting her brilliantly. Her breasts faced the crowd, sagging a bit, and, Jim noticed, quivering a little from her apparent nervousness. Below, her full belly protruded somewhat over a bit of paunch in her lower parts. Her pubic hair, somewhat trimmed but not shaved, was prominently displayed. Her spread legs clearly revealed her genital area.

Jim watched as he kept guard over the bag containing her sandals and raincoat. Evidently she had not brought any other clothing with her. He stared at his wife, publicly displayed as he had never seen her. While she was obviously not a young girl, she was still in good shape, and Jim felt his own body responding to the arousing sight of the spectacle before him.

Irma's facial expression was not a smile. She didn't want to reflect any enjoyment of this situation anyway, but the water was doing its job. She was feeling a need to urinate, which she knew was going to get a lot worse before this was over. She wondered if her bladder was still able to hold as well it had fifteen years earlier. She would find out. Her face reflected the tension and growing discomfort.