Strange Bedfellows Ch. 02

Vlad was tempted to hit her; to punch her, to flail at her and make her beg him to stop but she was worth too much money to him. Despite her cold eyes he knew that she loathed him and that making her fuck him was worse than anything else he could do to her.

Vlad pushed her down onto the bed and stared into her eyes as he jackhammered his cock in and out of her bruised vagina until he could hold back no longer and he fell on her and ejaculated his load deep side her buttery soft cunt. He felt her shudder and he couldn't tell if it was an orgasm or just disgust.

She would never tell him but it was both.

He quickly pulled his cock out of her vagina and scooted up her body so that he could spray the remainder of his seed over her pretty face and her hair. He finally got see the loathing on her face that he wanted to see and he smiled.

Vlad climbed off the bed and left Katya curled up in a ball shivering.

He had his henchmen go through her personal belongings, keeping anything of value and throwing everything else into a pile in the front garden. He had them fill her suitcases with her clothes. They were expensive and she would need them when he prostituted her out.

Vlad dragged her to the window and made her watch as everything she owned went up in smoke. Katya was left with three suitcases full of clothes and nothing else. A single sob wretched from her throat and Vlad threw her back on the bed and went down to drink her liquor cabinet dry with his four colleagues who he sent up one after the other to fuck her.

She didn't fight them. She let them take her, using every orifice in her body.

When Vlad came at her a second time she didn't resist. She welcomed him. She opened her arms and legs and returned his vile kisses and allowed his revolting penis to enter her and evoke wanton feelings of lust. She wrapped her legs around him and rose to meet his thrusts.

His head was buried in her shoulder so he couldn't see her smiling.

There was one secret that she had been able to keep from Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich and Vladimir Volkov. A secret that they could never wrest from her no matter how much they tortured her.

Vlad moved Katya around his brothels across the east coast. During the day she took on walk-in customers and in the evenings she was sent out to service higher end clientele. She was too elegant, sophisticated and intelligent to just be a fuck-puppet.

She brought in more money working the high end trade, and taking walk-in customers, although demeaning, which pleased Vlad, was a waste of her talents and dangerous as she was likely to catch an STI. Katya was just too good a commodity to waste and eventually he made her the Madame of one of his high-class brothels with the caveat that she was to also service any man he sent her way.

Every second Sunday Vlad brought Katya back to her house in Southold on Long Island and fucked her in her old bed. He made her cook him dinner and stay the night, defiling her at his whim. Dmitriy wanted her to feel pain and loss and Vlad enjoyed inflicting it.

Katya made no attempt at escape, even when she was allowed out on her own, because she had nowhere to go and no money to get there. It didn't matter where she ran Dmitriy would find her and she had a secret to protect.

Two tortuous years into her servitude Katya was awakened by the sound of muffled gunshots. Vlad lay asleep beside her in what used to be her own bedroom. Through the gloom she could just make out a petite figure dressed in skin-tight black clothing. The silenced pistol in the figure's hand was still smoking and Katya could smell gunsmoke and blood.

Katya turned her head on the pillow and saw the two holes in Vlad's forehead. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer and waited for the eternal darkness to swallow her up.

Instead she felt soft lips on hers; a fleeting gentle kiss.

"Don't move. Don't turn on any lights. I'll be back soon," the figure whispered.

Jennifer Jones returned with a black body-bag and had Katya help her put Vlad's body and the blood-stained pillow and pillowcase into the bag which they zipped closed and carried down to a black SUV. They hefted the body into the trunk.

Katya was impressed with Jennifer's strength for a woman her size.

"Make breakfast. I'll be back soon. Two eggs, poached, wheat toast and Virginia ham. You know how I take my coffee," Jennifer said before she drove away.

She returned fifteen minutes later in a red BMW sedan.

Dawn's light was creeping across the horizon when Jennifer walked back into the house and sat down at the kitchen-diner. Katya put Jennifer's breakfast in front of her and sat across from Jennifer wearing a chiffon dressing gown.

"What did he do?" Katya asked.

"What they all do. He got greedy," Jennifer said, scooping eggs and ham into her mouth.

"I guess that's it for me then. Make it quick or am I buckwheats?" Katya sipped her coffee.

"If I wanted you dead you would never have woken up," Jennifer crunched toast.

"What then?" Katya was pragmatic.

She guessed she would be passed onto another of Dmitriy's lieutenants to keep working as a Madame and a prostitute.

"You're mine now," Jennifer said matter-of-factly.

"You're going to manage all of the brothels in the tri-state area and go back to your old job finding girls for the trade," Jennifer helped herself to more toast and ham.

"Okay..." Katya sounded sceptical.

Jennifer stood up, her black lycra catsuit trilling on the leather seat.

She walked around the table and helped Katya to her feet.

"You treated me well at the safe house. I know that you loved Uri, even though your love was misplaced. You should never have betrayed Dmitriy. I'm sure you know that now. You are Dmitriy's gift to me on the proviso that I never let you go," Jennifer reached out and stroked Katya's face.

"You were just a naïve young girl. Look at you now... still a girl but far from naïve," Katya returned the gesture and stroked Jennifer's face.

"I'm going to let you live here in your house. I'll have the deeds sent to you but they are worthless really because you can never leave but at least you will have somewhere to call home that really is your own home," Jennifer said.

Katya leaned in and kissed Jennifer and Jennifer returned the kiss but there was little passion in it.

"Your daughter can join you here," Jennifer said coldly and Katya froze.

She had to sit down or else she would fall down.

"Did you really think you could hide her from me Katya?" Jennifer remained standing.

"Does he know?" Katya was shaking.

"Of course he doesn't know. If he knew there is no way that she would be joining you here," Jennifer said.

"Then how..." Katya's question trailed off.

"I have my ways and I don't tell Dmitriy everything. Some things are best kept just to myself," Jennifer said quietly.

"He'll kill you if he finds out that you are keeping secrets," Katya said coldly.

"He'll kill us both if he finds out," Jennifer replied.

"You went to Europe eighteen years ago, ostensibly to audit Dmitriy's employment agencies but you were gone nearly three months. Dmitriy didn't care because he was already looking to replace you as his Girl Friday," Jennifer sat down and was drinking coffee.

"You gave birth to his daughter in Switzerland and had her raised in France and then she attended a British boarding school. She's been attending Rutgers here for nearly a year. You could have her here on weekends, it's only a three hour drive," Jennifer buttered more toast.

"Why?" Katya looked at Jennifer.

She had genuine tears streaking down her cheeks leaving tracks of mascara.

"Some people like to tell me that I am not a real woman and could never understand motherhood but I know what it's like to be a daughter," Jennifer pulled the fading photograph of her mother from a pocket inside the catsuit and looked at it lovingly then she put it away.

"Does she know who her father is?" Jennifer asked.

"She thinks he's dead. I told her that because of my work and special circumstances that we could never live together. Children are resilient. She has been brought up that way since birth, moving from place to place, always well cared for but only seeing her mother sporadically," Katya dried her eyes with a napkin.

"When I brought her to the US I was able to see her more often but you can imagine the difficulties... the secrecy," Katya sighed.

"Dmitriy no longer has you under surveillance. Once he gave you to Vlad it was no longer necessary and now you belong to me," Jennifer wiped crumbs from her mouth with her napkin.

"Dmitriy told me I was soft when I asked if I could have you if I dispatched Vlad personally. I told him that you would still live in servitude, would still be selling your body, still hating every day that you were alive," Jennifer looked at Katya's cigarettes on the breakfast bar and then at Katya questioningly.

Katya nodded and got up to get her cigarettes and her lighter.

"I had asked myself why you didn't just kill yourself when Dmitriy gave you to Vlad. It piqued my interest because I knew you and I knew how proud and independent you were. I used my considerable resources to find out all about your past and of course I eventually found out about Katerina," Jennifer took the proffered cigarette and saw Katya flinch when Jennifer mentioned her daughter's name.

"She's beautiful and intelligent just like her mother," Jennifer drew smoke into her lungs and then exhaled.

She seldom smoked and when she did she took full enjoyment.

"So... your secret is safe... for now. You work for me but you no longer sell your body; that is not appropriate for a woman of your class. You will live here and if you want, Katerina can live here with you," Jennifer took another drag of her cigarette.

"And in return?" Katya breathed her own smoke deep into her lungs.

"I already own you. There is nothing more you can give me," Jennifer smiled at Katya.

"YA ubezhal ot volka, no natknulsya na medvedya," Katya whispered, her icy-blue eyes locked on Jennifer's face.

"What did you say?" Jennifer furrowed her brow.

"I ran from the wolf but ran into a bear," Katya said softly.

"I need a shower and some sleep. Come join me in the shower and then we can go to bed," Jennifer crushed out her cigarette.

"Fuck me on the same side of the bed where you executed Vlad. I want to laugh at his ghost while we make love," Katya put out her own cigarette and took Jennifer's hand and led her upstairs.

*****

The Special Task Force met downtown at Police Plaza, some of them looking a little the worse for wear and Alice Leasingham was absent. The late night at The Longhorn had taken its toll.

Penelope was wearing one of her charcoal skirt-suits and Gary, Dan and Tim appreciated the legs show. She was wearing sheer grey nylons which appeared to be holdups as the welt kept creeping into view as she reached up to point to her crime wall.

"We know that the truck carrying the can crossed the border into Brownsville Texas at the U.S. Customs and Border Protection station Los Indios Free Trade Bridge. We know that the paperwork associated with the can listed antique furniture and that it was checked through US customs," Penelope reviewed what they already knew.

"I saw that can. Efforts had been made to conceal the trapdoor but the deckhands had been in and out of the container, fucking the girls as it turns out. The door would have been found during any routine inspection."

"Tim I want you down in Brownsville putting pressure on those Customs guys. Use your FBI credentials to scare the shit out of them. I know security has relaxed a little since Bin Laden got the chop but I bet someone down there greased that can through the system," Penelope looked over at Jennifer for confirmation.

"Alexi Reznik likes to work in the shadows. He prefers to use silver rather than lead. You can bet he's got people at the border crossings on his payroll," Jennifer backed up Penelope's assumption.

"Dan, Katya has provided us with a list of local women who were recruited by Belarus International Services. Some of them are working legitimately as domestics and some of them are working out of a strip club down in the Bridge Street free zone," Penelope held out a sheet of paper.

Gary Rasmussen bristled and interjected.

"There is no free zone! It's just our red light district," he fixed his gaze on Dan Murphy and Tim Morrow, the State and Federal law enforcement operatives.

Penelope shrugged her shoulders.

Bridge Street was unofficially known as the Bridge Street free zone. The street was lined with titty bars, adult stores and greasy spoons. Visitors and locals alike cruised the street looking for something spicy. The police deliberately kept a low profile on Bridge Street but diligently patrolled the adjacent streets and were intolerant of any miscreants who attempted to bring their unsavoury behaviours outside of the delineated area. Silvia Bickle called Bridge Street an island of crud in a sea of resplendence.

Dan Murphy took the list and scanned it.

"Katya will accompany you. She accumulated the information on these women, she knows where they come from and she speaks their language. She's acting as your interpreter if anyone questions her legitimacy," Penelope nodded at Katya Kuznetsova who was also wearing a fitted business suit, heels and hose.

Dan seemed more than happy to be spending the day with Katya.

Gary took Penelope by the elbow and whispered something in her ear and Penelope frowned at him and shook off his grip.

"After my briefing Gary!" she whispered tersely.

"I let Alice work out of the CSI office today. Katya has given her access to some of the sex trafficking sites on the dark web and she's searching to see if there was any reference to the four younger girls who were in the container as it's assumed they would have been sold on the web," Penelope explained.

"What is she doing?" Dan Murphy pointed at Jennifer Jones.

It was as if Jennifer had got the memo as she too was wearing a skirt-suit. It was dark with charcoal pinstripes, her heels were either Louboutin or Jimmy Choo and her nylons were gossamer sheer. Her makeup as usual was perfect as was her red hair. She could have passed for Penelope Bishop's younger sister, Gary Rasmussen thought to himself.

"Good question," Penelope glared at Jennifer who offered a bemused smile.

"I have a lead on the truck driver. He tried to cross the border back into Mexico. My operatives are bringing him here so that you can talk to him," Jennifer offered a smirk.

"Your operatives? The same people who questioned the Pakistani deckhand in Altamira?" Tim Morrow bristled.

"They were not responsible for the consequences after the deckhands were released from prison. Reznik was going to find and silence them regardless. Who do you think paid for their Mexican lawyers?" Jennifer said offhandedly.

"I don't like working with criminals," Tim spat.

"My operatives are licenced private investigators. The truck driver is in their company willingly because he knows the alternative. Neither I nor Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich have been convicted of any crime nor do I need to remind you that the United States Attorney General himself has appointed me to this task force," Jennifer replied flippantly.

"Nor do I need remind you that I have provided most of the useful information to this task force while the rest of you have run up against bureaucratic roadblocks or have been chasing your own tails," Jennifer barked.

"Ok enough!" Gary slammed his fist down on the lectern.

"We appreciate your efforts Ms Jones. The rest of you have assignments given to you by Lieutenant Benson, who may I remind you, is in charge of this task force. I suggest you get on with them," Gary cooled things down.

As the team stood and began to go about their assigned tasks Katya Kuznetsova mumbled something under her breath that only Dan Murphy caught.

"Lozhis' s sobakoy i poluchayesh' blokh"

"What was that?" his excitement at having Katya assigned to assist him was evident.

"It goes something like if lie down with dogs, you get fleas," Katya smiled at him.

As Dan escorted Katya to his car she asked if they could stop at the smoking area and he agreed. They were alone and Katya smoked while Dan pretended to study his phone but really studied the tall, elegant, mature woman with the jet-black hair cut into a severe bob which accentuated her deep blue expressive eyes.

"You hate Jennifer but you are delighted to be in my company," Katya said suddenly.

Dan Murphy blushed.

"She's young, arrogant, a failed law enforcement officer, and she works for a criminal," Dan hissed.

"What about me?" Katya gave him a beguiling smile.

"You're mature, intelligent and sophisticated. You were forced to work for Dmitriy Yakovich; you had no choice," Dan rationalised.

"We all make choices. Did you notice the scorpion tattoo above Jennifer's left ankle?" Katya stubbed out her cigarette.

"Well, yeah," Dan blushed.

All of the men had been checking out the women's legs.

"Then you notice I have the same tattoo," Katya turned her calf so that Dan could see better and he appreciated the view.

"Yeah, I saw it. I figured it was some Russian mobster shit; that Dmitriy guy is covered in tattoos," Dan said by way of explanation.

"It means something that you could never understand. The bond between Jennifer and I is unbreakable," Katya began to walk towards the car pool.

"You're older than she is and appear to be just as smart. I don't understand why she's your boss," Dan caught up with her.

"Jennifer has been underestimated by many men but not many of them are still around to regret that they underestimated her," Katya leaned in and whispered in Dan's ear.

The closeness of her body, her sweet breath on his face and the scent of her Poison perfume had the effect that Katya knew it would.

"You both wear the same perfume," Dan swallowed as he searched for his car keys in his front pockets, using it as an excuse to hide his erection.

"We share a lot of things," Katya deliberately let her short skirt open wide as she slid into the passenger seat.

The image of Katya's pink nylon panties burned into Dan's brain and kept recurring throughout the day.

Back in the office Gary had taken Penelope aside.

"How you holding up?" Gary searched Penelope's eyes.

Gary Rasmussen had stood by Penelope Bishop during the good times and bad and genuinely cared for her almost like a father. Gary had actually been a street cop at the same time Penelope's father had walked the beat in Balwyn.

"I'm fine," Penelope gave him a grim smile.

"You and Jaylene seem to be getting along. I notice she got in the bag a little last night," Gary was careful how he broached the subject.

"I'm still sober Gary. Jaylene and I have one cheat night a week. I get to eat hamburgers and she gets to drink or smoke a little weed. You want I should start writing up reports on my personal life?" Penelope instantly regretted snapping at Gary and she reached out and stroked his arm soothingly as an apology.

"How you getting on with Ms Jones? It's obvious you don't like her. I mean how are you getting on professionally?" Gary changed the subject.

"What she said to Tim Morrow is true. We couldn't find our ass with both hands without her help. This Russian mafia shit is complicated and runs deep," Penelope admitted.

"That older skinny broad she brought in is a piece of work," Gary commented.

"You mean Natasha Fatale," Penelope chuckled.

"All the men want to ride her and Alice Leasingham wants to be her. She may look like a cartoon caricature but I bet that bitch can bite," Penelope sighed.

"Remember what I said about playing nice. It's been reported up as far as the AG that we figure this Reznik guy is behind the girls in the can and now he has a hardon for us to get a pinch. He wants arrests made so that he, the Governor and the Director of the FBI can go on TV and brag about what a great job their combined task force is doing," Gary rubbed his fingers through his thinning hair.