Shadows of Power Pt. 01

Author's Note: This series is somewhat different to my usual storylines and is in response to a request from a reader. This series will explore the ethics of politics and personal gain and will have a number of darker themes than my usual stories.

This story is set in the fictional country of Nordland, a small island nation in the North Sea between the UK, Norway and Denmark.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All comments and feedback is welcome.

HF

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"Fuck!" Helga Svensdotter spat as she watched the television in her bedroom. That bastard, she thought. Bjorn Magnusson, the current Nordland Finance Minister, was on television talking about how the latest finance package would benefit all Nordlanders. Flanking him was his wife, Ingrid, and two daughters, Solveig and Linnea: the image of a perfect Nordic family. That will be another hundred thousand votes right there, she thought bitterly.

Bjorn was her main rival for the recently vacated role of Justice Minister in the Nordland government with the previous minister, Lars Willensen, having just announced his retirement due to health issues. Good riddance to the crotchety old bastard, Helga thought to herself. She'd never liked him at all. As one of the younger, up and coming politicians in Nordland, she was positioning herself to become a key member of the Nordland First party, the right-wing conservative party that had romped home in the recent elections to form government in the small Nordic Island nation.

Her current role in the new government, Assistant Foreign Minister, was just a stepping stone for Helga. Not content with leading trade delegations, Helga had her eyes on the top job one day and the role of Justice Minister was a key step on this path. Unfortunately, Bjorn too had dreams of being Prime Minister and also saw the Justice Ministry as an ideal path to this role. Axel Olsen, the Prime Minister, hadn't made a decision yet but Helga knew that both her and Bjorn were the leading contenders for the role. If only she could get him to withdraw from the race.

"What's the matter, Helga?" a voice asked from the bed. Lying languidly on the sheets of her marital bed was not her husband, but her chief of staff, Anders Karlsen. The tall, blonde-haired man was propped up against the headboard, watching his boss as she dried herself after her quick shower. Fucking his attractive boss was one of the many perks of the job, but listening to her continually moan on about Bjorn was starting to grow tiresome.

Anders admired her drive and tenacity to gain the top job in the country and, with an eye on the main chance, he'd hitched his cart to her horse, hoping to ride her coat tails to the top. Working for someone like Helga was both demanding and rewarding. An intense person, she was also quite attractive. Younger than most other politicians in the government at 42 years of age, Helga carried herself with a degree of athleticism and grace, no doubt a throwback to her time as a reporter for the right-wing tabloid, Nordland Daily, before entering politics.

With Helga drying herself with her towel, Anders was able to admire her body. She had auburn hair that fell in loose waves just past her shoulders, framing her angular face. Though not classically attractive, her face was certainly pretty enough to warrant a second look from most men. Her piercing blue-green eyes reflected her sharp intellect and determination to succeed in the cut-throat world of politics. His gaze travelled down her pale body towards her chest, and it fell onto her elegantly proportioned C-cup breasts. They had a subtle perkiness that was accentuated by the areolae that capped each mound, their soft pink hue contrasting with her rosy-pink nipples at the center of each disc.

His gaze continued down her body towards the junction of her thighs, an area of her body he knew well. Her pubic mound was covered with a delicate layer of neatly trimmed auburn curls and he knew from close, personal observation that her neatly tucked and concealed labia were delicate and symmetrical, with a gentle pink hue that contrasted beautifully against her fair skin. His cock twitched at the memory of those pink labial lips wrapped around his white shaft.

"That fucker, Bjorn...look at him with his perfect little family...I bet Axel is just drooling at how many more votes this will win the party..." Helga said with a scowl as she turned to look at her handsome chief of staff. He was a good fuck, she thought, better than her corporate CEO husband, Markus, who seemed to be more interested in spending time with his own personal assistant than with her. No matter, their marriage was just part of her public persona and as long as Markus dutifully trotted himself out to stand next to her when she was campaigning, she didn't care who he fucked.

Anders grinned. "Maybe...maybe not..." he said with a little chuckle. Her expression changed into a puzzled frown. "What do you mean?" she asked.

He gave her a little shrug. "Rumor has it that it's not the perfect little family they pretend it to be...something about using appearances for political gain..." he said. Helga allowed the subtle dig to slide and asked, "Is there something more there?"

"From what I've heard, there's trouble in paradise. His oldest daughter, Solveig, isn't the apple in her father's eye. Apparently, she hates his guts..." Anders told her. "Really?" Helga said turning to look at the television, this time focusing on Bjorn's oldest daughter. Now that Anders had mentioned it, the 20-year-old didn't look completely comfortable standing there next to her father. Helga, with an eye for detail, started to pick up on subtle clues.

Solveig's clothing was far more masculine than what her mother and younger sister were wearing, a pant suit instead of dresses. Her auburn hair had red highlights through it and her makeup looked a little more garish than the subdued palettes worn by her mother and sister. Helga turned to look back at Anders. "Lesbian?" she inquired.

Anders chuckled. "From what the staffers in Bjorn's office say, completely the opposite, apparently she loves the cock...she's also a bit of a party girl...her parents have had to collect her a few times when she's been passed out drunk or on drugs..."

Helga's expression took on a contemplative look. "Really? That's interesting...so how come she's up there on stage next to him?"

"She and Daddy might not see eye to eye on most things...she's a political science student at Nordland University so she's about as left as they come...but he gives her a big enough allowance so that she dresses up and appears on stage whenever he calls."

Helga tapped her chin for a moment with her finger. "That's all well and good...but she's still got a clean image, at least in the eyes of the public and that means votes for Bjorn..."

"What if she didn't have such a clean image?" Anders asked. Helga looked at his quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if she wasn't such a clean-cut girl...if the public knew the truth about her...well...that would be worth something to Bjorn, don't you think?"

Anders could see the gears spinning in Helga's mind. Digging up dirt on the family of a political rival wasn't something normally done in Nordland politics, she thought. Perhaps it was time to change the political landscape.

"She would have to be compromised in a way that Bjorn wouldn't be able to come back from...her having a couple of friends with benefits and dropping some acid at a rave wouldn't really be enough..." she observed.

"I agree...it would need to be something more than that, something that would really tarnish her reputation...and force Bjorn to reconsider his nomination..." Anders replied.

Helga thought for a moment and then turned to looked back at the television where Bjorn was still parroting on about welfare for all Nordlanders. Her eyes fell on Solveig, taking in her slim figure and pale skin as a plan started to form in her mind.

"I've got an idea..." she said after a moment. "And I think I know someone who can help..."

*****

Helga's official car was parked in a deserted backstreet in one of Nordhaven's industrial districts, the dimly lit street hiding the identity of the occupants from any observers. Jabari Okafor raised his eyebrows in surprise when Helga explained the plan she wanted him to execute.

At 45 years old, Jabari was a solidly built African man; an immigrant from Nigeria, he'd come to Nordland nearly ten years earlier and had rapidly risen the ranks of the African Kings criminal gang, building it from a small street gang of migrants to a major criminal organization in Nordland. He'd been surprised when Helga had reached out through her old journalism contacts, wanting to speak to him in private. If he'd been surprised by that, he was even more surprised when he heard what she wanted from him and his organization.

"You want us to fuck Bjorn Magnusson's daughter?" he asked in surprise and suspicion. Helga regarded him with an intense gaze. "I never told you to do that...but if one of your...associates...were to...engage in a sexual relationship with her...and evidence of this was obtained and provided to me...then I would be very grateful..."

Jabari's eyes narrowed. "This sounds like a set up..." he said. Helga shook her head. "Nothing of the sort...it's just a conversation. What you choose to do about it is up to you...but if this evidence was provided to me...well...I'd be inclined to look very favorably upon our relationship if I were to become Justice Minister."

Jabari's mouth curved into a little sneer. "Yeah...I see where you're going with this..." He paused for a moment and then nodded. "Ok...we'll get you some evidence...I'm guessing you came to us for a reason...and that you want it dirty..."

She nodded. "The dirtier the better..." she confirmed with a nod. Jabari chuckled. "Yeah...we can do this...I have a couple of guys in mind that would fit the bill for what you need...real black brothers..."

Helga smiled. "That would be perfect," she said as she held out her hand. "I trust you'll be in touch when you have something for me..."

Jabari shook her hand. "Yeah, we'll be in touch..."

*****

Solveig stood in the darkness of the underground club, Revolt Underground, as the loud punk music blared from the speakers. She rocked backwards and forwards in time to the beat, the lyrics striking a chord inside of her. With her long, wild auburn hair carelessly brushed around her head, her garish makeup and dressed in ripped jeans, combat boots, punk t-shirt and leather jacket, she was far from the image of a conversative politician's daughter she'd presented on the television several days earlier.

She had always hated her father's politics, the conservative views that permeated their household as she was growing up. The moralizing that her parents had preached in both public and private had driven her to despair. Unlike her younger sister, who idolized their parents, Solveig had rejected these philosophies and adopted a harder, left-leaning approach, selecting political science at university when she finished school. She hoped to be able to right some of the wrongs her parents were inflicting on the world.

To further spite her parents, she had adopted a casual, laid-back attitude to sex. Her current boyfriend, Leif, was more of a campus thinker than a lover, but he was good enough for the moment. Besides, she had several other male 'friends' that she could call on if she needed something more energetic than what Leif could provide. However, her casual attitude didn't extend to birth-control, and she always ensured Leif and her other partners were clad in a condom before entering her; she didn't want to take any chances with an unwanted pregnancy at this stage of her life.

Standing in front of her in the back hallway near the toilets was a tall, black man who'd introduced himself as Jamal. From the discussions with other patrons in the club, he was the man to see if you wanted to score. He was flanked by another black man, equally well-built, who's gaze was on the other patrons in the club, obviously there to protect Jamal while he made his deals.

"How do I know this is good?" she asked, holding the small plastic bag of tablets as Jamal counted the money. He looked up at her. "What the fuck? Are you saying I'm slinging bad product?" he asked with an angry expression.

"No...no..." she said hurriedly. She was looking forward to getting back to her boyfriend's apartment with the drugs. Leif and some of their friends were waiting for her to return so they could party in the privacy of the apartment.

Jamal's expression softened somewhat. "Look...this is good stuff, trust me..." he told her. "Take one...see what you think..."

Solveig shook her head. "Nah...it's ok..." she replied. Jamal's expression hardened again. "The fuck! You think my shit's not good enough for you?"

Solveig's eyes widened in surprise. "No...I...I didn't mean that..."

"Then take some...see what you think..." he told her in a low, dangerous voice. Swallowing nervously, Solveig opened the bag and extracted a tablet. Quickly swallowing one, she looked at Jamal. He nodded approvingly. "Yeah, I only sell the good shit...and that shit will hit you fast, girl..." he told her.

"O...ok...thanks..." she replied as he finished counting the money. Jamal grinned to himself, he loved selling to cashed up white kids, spending daddy's money to get high on the weekend. "Yeah, this is good," he told her as she pocketed the money. Solveig nodded and turned to make her way from the club, tucking the plastic bag into her pocket.

As she walked towards the exit, she started to feel a tingling through her body. Wow, that was fast, she thought. She couldn't wait to get home to share it with Leif and the others. She was looking forward to fucking her boyfriend tonight and nothing was better than fucking on ecstasy, she thought.

By the time she reached the top of the stairs and the exit, she was really starting to feel the effects of the ecstasy. It had never hit her this fast before as a warm rush seemed to fill every pore of her body. "Whoa..." she said to herself as she exited the door and felt the cold night air wash over her. The doormen looked at her in suspicion as she steadied herself on the doorframe. The last thing they wanted was another kid overdosing on the premises.

"Hey...get moving..." one of them said. Solveig nodded, making her way unsteadily down the footpath, unaware that the two black men had exited the club and were following her. Jamal grinned to himself, this was going to be fun night. When Jabari had told him to be on the lookout for a young Nordic girl, he'd laughed at first. But when Jabari had outlined the plan, his cock started to twitch in anticipation.

Solveig steadied herself on the building next to the club; she had a bit of a walk to get back to Leif's apartment and was about to keep moving when she heard a voice call out from behind her. "Hey girl, you ok?"

She turned to see Jamal and his compatriot standing there. She gazed at him with glassy eyes as a warm rush of euphoria washed over her. "Y...yeah...I'm fine..."

"You sure...you're not looking too good...that shit too strong for you?"

"No...not at all..." Solveig replied indignantly, or as best she could as she felt a warm tingling in her loins as she gazed at the handsome young black man. She'd never really associated with many black men before, having spoken to a few of them at university. Despite her left-leaning attitude, her friend group was completely white, her pussy having never experienced the joy or pleasure of a black cock. Little did she know, that was all about to change.

"Yeah...you're all fucked up...last thing I need is you falling over in the street with my product in your pocket..." he told her. "We'll give you a lift, ok?"

To Solveig, that sounded like the best idea in the world at that point in time. "S...sure..." she said with a happy smile. "That would be great..."

*****

"Uh...uh...uh...uh..." Solveig moaned in time to each of Jamal's powerful thrusts as she lay on the dirty mattress. She was so far gone from the drugs that she hadn't even realized that the two black men were taking her to a different location. The small apartment they were in was a great deal dingier than her boyfriend's apartment but right now she didn't care as Jamal's long black cock continued to rearrange her internal organs.

Jamal's face was clenched in an expression of lust as he thrust hard in and out of her tight Nordic pussy. It hadn't taken much to get her into their SUV and by the time they had arrived at the apartment, he was already kissing her passionately in the backseat. Stumbling through the door, he'd pushed her towards the bedroom, peeling off her clothing as they went. Kwasi, his companion had gone to get a drink while Jamal warmed the hot little Nordic slut up for the main event.

Jamal glanced down at Solveig's modest ivory breasts that were shaking backwards and forwards in time with his thrusts. The mounds were capped with pinkish-brown discs and hard erect nubs at the center. Perfect to suck on, he thought with a grin.

Meanwhile, as Solveig lay there lost in pleasure, she felt every thrust from Jamal's strong body. His dark skin glistened as sweat dripped down his face and back, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He was completely focused on pleasuring Solveig, who moaned loudly beneath him. She couldn't believe she was here, on her back, being fucked by a strange black man but right now this felt so wonderful, so right, so perfect.

Jamal delivered a series of short, sharp thrusts that caused Solveig to scream loudly in pleasure and pain as his black cock delved into the depths of her tight Nordic pussy. Each thrust slammed the head of his cock against her cervix, generating a delicious and intoxicating blend of pleasure and pain that spread throughout her body. "Oh...fuck...yes...yes..." she babbled loudly in Nordic, unaware that Kwasi was standing in the corner of the room, his phone capturing all of her reactions to the thick, black cock buried inside her Nordic cunt.

Jamal gritted his teeth as he pounded into Solveig's tight pussy, feeling her walls clenching around his cock with each surge forward. "Fuck...you feel so good," he groaned, his eyes locked onto hers.

Solveig breathed heavily, biting her lip as Jamal hit just the right spot inside her. "Yes, yes, don't stop," she urged, arching her back to meet his every move. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge. Oh, God, she thought, this felt so good, much better than Leif had ever fucked her.

"I'm not...gonna fuck your pussy all night..." Jamal promised, picking up the pace even more. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he drove himself deeper and harder into her pink depths.

In response, Solveig let out a loud cry as she came undone, writhing beneath Jamal as waves of ecstasy washed over her. Her nails dug into his flesh as she held onto him tightly, not wanting the blissful moment to end. His size, sexual prowess and the ecstasy flowing through her body had culminated in an incredible climax for her; however, she was unaware that the night was far from over.

"Yeah...that's it...cum for me..." he said with a grin as he glanced at Kwasi in the corner, still filming. Solveig lay on the mattress, dazed from her climax, and didn't object to Jamal lifting her pale legs and draping them over his dark shoulders to obtain a deeper penetration. She did react to his first thrust in this new position as the head of his black cock slammed hard against her cervix.