Cruel Choices

Authors notes -- I've made quite a few little edits. The general gist of the story is the same but I've edited the feel of it a bit. I also changed the ending of this section so that I'd have more freedom should I go back to it again. It's not a big change, but it is at least a merciful one. Oh and disclaimer; this is all a fictional fantasy, I wouldn't ever condone this sort of behaviour. But consensual fantasies on the other hand...

1

Nikki's lashes flickered as her eyes struggled to remain open. As she lost the fight to remain conscious she clenched her delicate jaw, thinking back over the last few hours that had led her to this point.

****

Having just graduated she had been looking forward to spending a summer in Europe. She'd planned to meet up with a friend who was already out there and the two of them were meant to backpack around and spend lots of time relaxing, sun bathing and flirting at clubs. It wasn't like she needed to backpack; in fact, her father was almost completely against the idea. He was wealthy and didn't like the idea of his daughter spending time in less reputable parts of the city. But she wanted to relax, enjoy the 'real world' for a few weeks and he had reluctantly agreed; he had never been able to refuse her big blue eyes, when she pouted and batted her long dark lashes.

So she had flown out of Newark airport, having checked away her luggage, she'd been told by her friend to pack light and make the most of the good weather: small shorts, tank tops, bikini's and a few small slinky dresses for nights out. She had always been athletic and looked good in all of them. She was cursed by some of her friends who'd say she could look good wearing a potato sack. She had a nice body, nothing exceedingly exceptional, but she did take care of herself. Her figure had filled out more in the last couple of years as she had hit adulthood, her hips gaining some width that gave her toned rear an almost upside down heart shaped curve. She wasn't vain, but she had looked at herself in the mirror on occasion. Her breasts had settled at somewhere between a C and a D cup, and hardly hung at all, the pertness of youth keeping her small pink nipples pointing slight upwards. She knew she had a good body and as such she dressed to compliment it; though on the plane she had dressed modestly. A ribbed white tank top that hugged her figure, a pair of army green shorts cut mid-thigh that left her slender legs bare and a pair of walking boots that she couldn't fit in her luggage properly and had chosen to wear instead.

She had flown first class and her father had requested she fly under her mother's maiden name, Smith. She did things like that, now and again, since she was little and thought nothing of it. Her father had told her stories whilst she was growing up about secret agents and spies. When she was little she had enjoyed pretending she was someone else and that she had been on a top secret mission, so that now it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. She relaxed back into the large comfy seat and had put on a movie, resting her eyes and drifting into the awkward, uncomfortable place between being awake and asleep.

As the plane lurched and sunk in altitude she jumped, feeling like she had woken from a falling dream, she glanced about trying to regain her senses as panic erupting from people around her, the lights on the overhead dash flashing and pinging through the noise of people yelling. She pulled out the earphones that played the music of the ending credits to some foreign film and sat up, just as the emergency breathing mask fell down in front of her. Still blinking her eyes clear of the mugginess of sleep, she wasn't sure if she was truly awake. The voice of the pilot came out of the crackling sound of the tannoy, she wasn't sure if it was just interference, but it sounded like his voice was shaking,

"Th-this is your pilot. Please remain calm. There is a fault with the ventilation system. Calmly place the emergency oxygen supply masks on and then help others who may need it. On-board security officers will be moving through the plane, p-please cooperate with them-"

The tannoy cut out with a small thudding sound and the plane hit a patch of turbulence at the same moment, shaking slightly in the air.

Nikki grabbed the mask and rushed to put it on, not sure what was wrong with the air in the plane but she didn't want to find out. Having been half awake she realised she was the last one around her to be putting it on, the others having put their own masks on before the pilot had finished talking. She didn't bother to curse herself for lack of initiative; this wasn't the time, besides she hardly had chance as a large man came through the curtain from the back into first class. Wearing a gas mask and holding a silenced pistol. She felt her heart jump and it took her a moment to remember that the pilot had said that there were officers on board. She still felt uneasy though, and he looked like a thug from a mobster movie. Trying to reassure herself that officers went undercover all the time, it did little to help her and she froze like a rabbit in headlights, holding her breath as his gaze swept over her. She relaxed a little as his eyes moved past her without stopping and over the others in first class before he stepped back out. She blinked and looked around, everyone had fallen asleep; at a time like this?! Wait... that didn't make sense she realised. She felt woozy as the reality of the situation hit her like a strike to the chest, sending her heart racing as she ripped the mask from her face.

The adrenaline shot through her as fear tried to take over, this wasn't a plane fault and there was no ventilation failure. She sucked in a few lungs worth of clean air, but her head was still dizzy, the gas she'd breathed in having started to take hold. She forced herself out of her seat, her body telling her to run, struggling with the belt she managed to stand and she started to make her way drunkenly to the front of the plane, away from the man she'd seen earlier.

She'd been drunk once or twice before with friends at house parties, but only just being 18 she hadn't had that many chances. The most drunk she'd been had been at her best friend's house party. She'd bet she could beat her friend's brother at beer pong, the loser having to spend the night naked. She had lost the bet. However he had gone easy on her, he wasn't a total jerk and had seen how petrified she had been about the idea of remove her clothes in front of all those drunk people, especially as a crowd of boys had started to swarm around them. Instead he'd let her have an easier forfeit at the jeers and booing of all his friends. She'd given him a private show of changing into a bikini that she had to wear all night instead. She'd had her ass grabbed a few times that night and someone had tried to undo the knot that had held her top up, but he had kept an eye on her and stopped anyone getting too forward. Later that night he would have been her first and the two had sort of been seeing each other since then. Right now however, she felt a thousand times worse than she had that night.

Struggling to the front of the plane she slapped her hand on the door a few times. Waiting she wondered if they'd heard her. She hit it again harder and tried to call out, just as a man opened the door. She was relatively tall for a girl, a few inches short of six foot, in a pair of heels she could tell you she was a model and you'd not be inclined to disagree. However this man seemed to tower over her, light brown hair touched with grey, and a hard, rough face. It wasn't just his height that made him seem so large, the look in his eyes could drill through you. He seemed a little startled as her hand slapped him on the chest where the door had been moment earlier. He looked at the hand and then back up at the girl, he raised an eyebrow and grinned, a shark's grin.

"Hello little kitten."

He said it in an unmistakably Russian accent. She stood there staring, the drugs having dulled her senses considerably. As he pulled out and jabbed a small needle into her arm, she just looked at it, feeling the sting a second later. Ouch. She let out a small cry of fear at the situation a few tears of fear coming to her eyes as she fell. He caught her and as her eyes started to close she saw the pilot on the floor looking at her. Why was he just lying there with that stupid look on his face, not doing anything? She thought to herself, until she saw the hole in his head and blood seeping out onto the floor. She shivered as she slipped into unconsciousness.

2

She awoke slowly, her head fuzzy, though clarity returned with shocking speed, the world focusing rapidly around her as she felt a sharp stinging sensation in her nose, she breathed in smelling something potent that stung her nasal cavity. She felt a rough hand, fingers on either side of her chin holding her head up. She shook her head free and the hand moved away, taking the smell with it, she blinked seeing the bottle of whatever they'd used to rouse her being closed and taken away by a man wearing a balaclava. She didn't start screaming, she felt like it, she felt more terrified than she ever had before. She lifted her hand to her face- or at least tried to. Finding that it was pinned to the arm of a cold metallic chair, her other arm was held the same way by what looked like a thick leather belt lined with some sort of fur to stop it rubbing. As she shifted she could feel that her ankles were held the same way and another belt was around her waist keeping her seated firmly. Looking down she could see the chair was bolted to the ground. She swallowed, holding back a scream of fear, her eyes watered a little but she didn't let herself cry. Her father had somewhat prepared her for difficult situations and all the times she'd chastised him for being over protective or lecturing seemed foolish.

They were covering their faces. That was good, it meant that they meant to keep her alive and didn't want her to identify them, important as she knew they were willing to kill; the thought of the pilot nearly bringing her to tears again. They held her in a small room alone, there couldn't be a room like this for every passenger or this building would be enormous. Perhaps they'd only taken people from first class, people who might make good hostages? She thought and put out of her mind what that could mean for everyone else on the plane. She was still wearing her clothes, something she was very thankful for. Her thought was cut off by the man picking something up off a tray and turning around. She looked half in curiosity and half in fear as a flash of light caused her to blink. Photos. So she was a hostage then? She opened her mouth,

"Wh-where am-"

She was cut off by him raising his hand and narrowing his eyes. He didn't need to say a word; she closed her mouth as he moved around her taking some more pictures. She wondered why they'd need some from all angles and some taken close up of her arms, legs and chest made her shudder with fear as her mind couldn't figure out why he might be doing this. He left, closing the door and the room went black.

3

Left alone for hours or even days, she had no idea anymore, the light finally switched back on the buzzing sound of the light bulb was the first noise she'd heard since she'd stopped sobbing. She felt like she couldn't cry anymore, even the tears long since dry. She shifted awkwardly; she'd wet herself during the time and felt extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed by that even as it had now mostly dried. A man walked back in and she started to beg,

"Please, I'll do anything; just let me out of this chair."

He looked annoyed as he walked over towards her, she flinched a little, and felt only a sting in her arm and glancing down she saw the syringe pull away. She tried to plead some more but the noise trailed off into slurs as her eyes fell closed and her head slumped forwards, her long hair cascading down around her face.

The man in the balaclava was joined by another. They moved swiftly without speaking showing they'd worked together before and that they knew what they were doing. He checked her pulse against his watch before giving a nod. They removed her straps and lifted her with ease onto a metal trolley. They secured her wrists and ankles with metal cuffs as a precaution and then they wheeled her out to the corridor and to another room, tiled with a drain in the middle of the slopped floor. One man pulled out a sharp knife and with a cut at the waist, down one side and then along the front of the other leg he was able to pull off her shorts and throw them into a bin. A cut at each strap of her top and down the side and it quickly followed her shorts. They were professional and moved quickly, but he took a moment to appreciate her body. Toned abs with the slight dimple of definition, slender legs with a hint of muscle in the calves that ran up to her slightly softer thighs and wide hips. Her breasts were supported by the black lace trimmed bra emphasising their size and the small black triangle of fabric connecting to a lace band around her waist were the only things covering her flawless skin...

The other man cleared his throat and gave him a look, saying something in a Slavic sounding language. He nodded and with a slice of the fabric between her breasts and another two at the straps he removed her bra, her breasts flattening out a little moving apart somewhat as they were freed from the bra. Her pink nipples peaked her large breasts and as the cold air touched them they shrunk to small nubs surrounded by a 'quarter' sized circle of pink skin. The men tried not to let distractions slow their work, two slices to the band of her thong and a tug left her naked, except for the boots on her feet. A small landing strip of hair between her legs, was the only hair she had from the neck down, freshly waxed for her holiday she was as smooth as silk. The rest of her garments joined the other as the unarmed man lifted up a hose from the wall and turned it on.

He began washing her, he'd put on a glove with a slightly abrasive looking sponge on the palm. The other man picked up a bottle of what looked like an expensive soap and liberally drizzled it over her before picking up another hose and glove. They made sure she was thoroughly clean, though they paid more attention to her breasts and between her legs, being gentle with the pink folds of her womanhood at least. They unlocked the cuffs, tuned her over, and relocked them. Revealing her back, that led down to her narrow waist before curving back out to her hips and rounded rear. They washed her again, making sure to get every crevice.

4

When she awoke for the second time she was at least feeling clean. She was lying comfortably on a bed and it took her a few moments to realise that the rough woollen sheets were not hers. She sat up suddenly and looked around with fear in her eyes. 'A different room,' she realised. She noticed also that aside from her walking boots, she was completely naked. Standing up with some effort as her head spun, the bed was a metal frame bolted to the ground with a small mattress and a rough cover and thin pillow. There was a mirror across the side of one wall and a chair, not dissimilar to the one she'd been in before, that made her shudder at the sight of it. She crossed her arms over her chest seeing herself naked in the mirror; she looked a little more obscene at wearing the boots with nothing else and with a small frown at the thought of someone stripping her. Had those men taken her clothes? She noticed a pile of fabric on the chair.

She quickly moved over to it and picked it up, confusion and some fear went through her as she realised that the small pair of underwear, a light blue G-string and the black dress were hers and had been in the luggage that she had thought were in the hold of the plane. That they were here confused her, she couldn't think of a sensible way in which they could be. She quickly struggled to put them on, stepping her walking boots through the circles of string that made up the small piece of underwear. Pulling them up and slipping into the black dress she saw herself in the mirror. She'd been washed, she could tell that, but didn't want to think about it. She noticed also that her hair had been dried and straightened and she was wearing a small amount of makeup, she recognised it as her own and the way it was applied was strikingly similar to how she put her own on, somehow that scared her more than anything. That they knew things about her that they shouldn't know, and had gotten her clothes that should have been locked away with the rest of the luggage. She realised then that this was all too focused on her, that she must have been the target on the plane and she shuddered, pushing down thoughts of what that meant.

The dress was a halter neck with a low hanging scooping neckline that revealed her cleavage, stopping at about her sternum. Her back, shoulders and arms were left bare. The bottom half hugged her hips, rear and legs tightly coming down to mid-thigh. In a club it would be striking, here, in the boots and the cell it made her feel very uncomfortable to be so exposed.

The mirror changed in a blink to a screen with people staring at her. Until she realised that it wasn't a screen but a one-way mirror. The lights had just been off in the room on the other side. A few men sat in what was like a small home cinema type room looking in at her. She opened her mouth in horror at the situation and thought of how long they been looking in at her, naked, lying there on the bed. She saw a couple of women sitting around too and a couple of young girls, around her own age stood around looking uncomfortable in skimpier outfits than her. It did nothing to make her feel any less comfortable seeing them.

5

The man sat, watching Nikki wake up and look around, she was scared and confused. Another man leaned over to him and spoke to him in Russian, "The cameras are on sir."

He nodded and grinned, "Hmm good." He watched her whilst he spoke, "Her father took someone very special from me many years ago. I want him to know the pain of loss... and so much more..."

"What will you do with her... afterwards sir?"

He turned to his subordinate and grinned, flashing teeth, though the grin did nothing but instil fear. "Afterwards? What do you take me for, a monster? I don't mean to kill her, no that would be too easy. I've waited too long, longer still since his betrayal." He shook his head "I had some of my men take some photos to send to a business associate of mine, I plan on using what we learnt from the facility in Naukograd to make her more... interesting." He frowned a little, "To his specifications of course."

The other man gave a concerned look. "I thought those projects were banned? Discontinued after the fall of the USSR?"

He shook his head and smiled again, "I wish you wouldn't say 'fall of the USSR', it sort of implies that I've given up, which I very much have not. Do you think I spent so long solidifying my power across the world, giving up a chance at a normal life and revenge against the men who wronged me for so long for nothing? No. An old friend of mine has seen our progress and is willing to join me; I will give him this girl as a present when she is done. He was a friend of Vladimirovich and will allow us to gain the legitimacy we've sought for so long."

He saw that Nikki was dressed, he held up a hand dismissing the other man before flicking a switch that lit their room and pressing a button on a microphone, speaking in English, "Hello Nikki."

6

A small crackle of static followed by a voice,

"Hello Nikki."

She glanced about nervously before noticing that the voice came out of a speaker in the top corner of the room. She let out a small whimper at her first attempt to speak before regaining her composure enough to talk. "W-ho are you? I'll do what you ask, just plea-"