Song of the Volga Boatgirls (Story about slave girls rowing)

[Jones_Tims]

This thread is dedicated for posting a narration about slave girls rowing on a ship. The story is set in an alternate timeline, where at some point in history, the undeveloped regions of some nations make use of primitive technology, combined with more modern one.

Any feedback, comment or critique you may have is gladly welcomed.

In the future, maybe... and there's a big maybe here, I'll take the time to upload some artworks for this story. However, I prioritize working on other projects that don't involve erotica, so I will upload artworks only if I will have the proper time to make them.

For those of you that might find this story familiar, I wrote a very similar story on Literotica, a while back, under the name "Jones Timmy". Of course, this improved story will soon be posted on Literotica on my new account.

That being said, I will leave the first chapter of my narration here. Since there's a text limit, I will post this first chapter in two parts.

Song of The Volga Boatgirls

Chapter I: Aimless Wander

In most places, they imagine the hell as some hot, burning cesspit of torture and sorrow. Hundreds of thousands of souls funneled down into a lake of fire, overwhelmed by the heat of the eternal flames. Everywhere you go, their depictions revolve around this image of fire. Everywhere, but here, in the boreal forests… or taigas, if you prefer. Here, we painted the image of hell with slightly different colors… cold, dark, gloomy colors. In our vision, hell is a frozen wasteland, covered in blinding snow, growing larger and larger everyday, as the blizzard swallows the land, the forests and the villages. Everywhere you turn, you are blinded by the bright, white snow. You don’t know where you should go… since it’s all the same, in every direction. Your legs are numb and won’t listen to you. They’ve been sitting knee-deep in the icy snow for so long that your blood turned hard as the stone. And you just want to run… anywhere… you want to go anywhere but here… you want to find a warm place… a gleam of hope… a flame of life… but in the end, the ice below your feet cracks into small pieces, and the frozen water swallows you whole.

December 1st, 44 A.R.T. (After the Return of the Tsarina)

The river was almost eternally immortalized in the freezing landscape of the taiga. The blizzard has it’s way of setting the elements of the environment into place. The plants are frozen and they ceased to grow due to the cold and the ever fading light. Animals went into hibernation, only daring just now and then to wander outside, to search for some food… that mostly consists of corpses… corpses that won’t decay anytime soon. There’s only two things in the taiga, that still move in an aimless, endless wander.

One of them, is the snow. Endless snowflakes that fall to the ground, with only one purpose: covering this wasteland… this collective grave for so many beings that struggle to stay alive… just to suffer another day. They only do their purpose and they do it well. A lot of snowflakes are different, did you know that? From my knowledge, there are 80 different forms or perhaps, even more. You take a glance anywhere on the sky… and you may observe 80 different snowflakes. Nevertheless, they all fall to the ground in the same manner, and they all serve the same purpose. Just one purpose and nothing more. Or perhaps… there’s no purpose at all. They just fall to the ground in a chaotic manner, aimlessly, with no true goal. They just happen to exist and to merge with each other. I don’t even know which interpretation is more depressing… everything in the universe serves only one purpose… or nothing in the universe matters…

The other element, flowing in this endless wander, is of course, the river. Even in those cold January days, when it’s surface is covered in a thick ice layer, the river is still flowing below. And along with the river, so flow the fishes and the boats. Onward, to the sea. Maybe the river has a true purpose… driving them all to one direction… to their goal. Or maybe… it’s just as pointless and aimless as the snowflakes, and the direction of the flow is just an illusion… an attempt of ours to make some sense out of it.

Among the other bodies that traveled this cold river, is a ship, mostly made out of hardwood. They call it “The Ship of the Terrible”. A decently large boat, traveling up and down on the river. Twenty oars that sweep through the water pushed this ship across the river. Each oar was pulled by two women on the lower deck. The lower deck was home to 40 women, brought there from across the Empire, to pull and push the oars, under the orders of the 7 members of the crew. In and out, they went. Pushing forward, then leaning on our backs, pulling behind. And then, they began once more.

You see, The Ship of the Terrible was a penal cargo boat. The oars were pulled by prisoners. Women who were considered wrongdoers by the Empire, were put to work on this ship, rowing up and down the river, transporting useful resources, fueling the hungry war machine in it’s fight against the Fatherland.

I almost forgot… “Milena” is my name. Forgive me, but serving as a girl at the oars can make you forget the right manners. I was sentenced to 10 years on The Ship of The Terrible, for what they described as “heinous acts of trafficking and smuggling, in defiance of The Empire”. I don’t know… probably, when you’ll read these words, you’ll think of me as the lowest scum that poisoned our society. Nevertheless, I won’t probably be around this cursed Earth by the time you will read this… so you might as well judge me as you see fit… it won’t make a difference to me.

I was a serf, living in the town of Svoboda, a small settlement, with roughly two thousand people. We were a long journey away from Petrograd, the capital of The Empire… at about 400 kilometers north-east. I never met my parents…since they disappeared when I was just a newborn… back in 22 A.R.T. I was raised by my aunt. We had a small income, from selling fruits down at the local market. It wasn’t much, but we pulled through. Since I was little, I was interested in studying… the history and culture of our Empire and of the neighboring nations. I wanted to become a teacher, so I went to a local school. I barely afforded the minimum needed to learn… some notebooks and an old pen I received from my aunt… and I often had to go to school in an old, worn out dress. But, nevertheless, I knew that education was my only way out of the hardships of Svoboda.

The situation worsened for the people of Svoboda after we entered in the war against The Fatherland, in 39 A.R.T. Our allies in the west, The Crown and The Republic were overwhelmed by the quickly advancing, mechanized monstrosities of the Fatherland. Our ruler, the Tsar, led the troops on the front, and was killed in 41 A.R.T. by the soldiers of the Fatherland. His death was shocking and overwhelming to us all… especially the serfs. He made promises to abolish serfdom once and for all, and rid The Empire of this cruel system that treated so many people like cattle. Once he passed away, the Tsarina took the matters into her own hand. Her priority was to win this war, at any cost. Of course, she didn’t have to pay anything… we did. The government reduced the number of students each year… jeopardizing the future I was fighting for. Then, they confiscated a large amount of wheat, cattle and sheep, in order to feed the soldiers. In the end, they came for our men… who were drafted to serve in the military. My aunt and I knew that we wouldn’t last long with the money we made after an honest work day. We were selling fruits to the local market… plums, apples and rarely… some grapes. We decided to switch to a new trade… alcohol. We had our own recipe for fruit spirit… made mostly out of plums. Of course, it wasn’t by a long shot as good as a glass of Slivovitz, but the people in Svoboda would rarely taste such delights, so they would please themselves with the drinks we made. It ran smooth… and we were so confident, that we expanded our little side-business, inviting a close friend to join us. However, in the summer of 43, our luck ran out. Oprichnina, the secret police of the Empire caught us in the act. I had to take the blame. I wouldn’t allow them to take my aunt. I took full blame for the crime. The matters worsened, when they found out that I sold some alcohol to a man who turned out to be an infiltrator of the Fatherland. They found me guilty of bootlegging, smuggling and collaborating with the enemy. A poor serf like me couldn’t afford me, so I had to defend myself… so much for that. They sentenced me to ten years of hard work… and thus, began my life as a boat girl.

The day they brought me, they removed all my clothes and they gave me the same “uniform” that all girls wore… a dark, gray-brown rag that would cover my buttocks and my genitals. In all days I went to school in my old, worn out dress, I thought I knew what humiliation was. On that day, on May 7th, 45 A.R.T., I was taught a lesson… a lesson about humility and despair. And soon, I would be taught a lesson of pain and sorrow. But then, came the most important lesson… the lesson of obedience and submission. Who taught me this lesson? An ominous figure, that was walking across the aisle of the rowing deck… a woman in her late 20s, with dirty blonde hair, light blue eyes and an imposing posture. She was an attractive woman, but there was one detail of her facial features that always made me shiver… her half-faced smile. She would always raise only her right cheek when smiling. I don’t know for sure if she did that on purpose or she was unable to display a proper smile. Nevertheless, you rarely saw her smiling, because you tried so hard to avoid direct visual contact with her. Ludmila was her name. She was the overseer on the rowing deck and the second in command on the ship. Walking around in her tall army boots, covering herself with a gray coat, keeping her hair tied behind her head. Every detail of her body was pushed aside, so you could only take notice of her eyes… staring directly at you. Most of us knew to avoid eye contact. At the same time, it wasn’t appropriate to show that you are avoiding eye contact on purpose… you had to go for a compromise… keeping your eyes pointed towards her boots. Why all this caution, you may ask. Strapped with a belt around her dark gray coat was her whip. Whenever she felt like one of us was losing the pace or was just thinking about disobedience, she would get the whip out and start administering some quick, selective punishments. Many times, she didn’t even need to hit someone. She’d just crack her whip on the bench, next to a rowing woman’s body, and she would know to fasten the pace out of fear. Ludmila was this menace that lurked in the shadows… the stomping of her boots and the crack of her whip were almost inaudible… for they were covered by the noise made by our voices…

There was a song that kept us going everyday… a traditional song commonly song by our people when they were rowing their boats on the rivers. It goes like this:

Push your oar

Pull your oar

Push again and pull once more

We repeated it again and again, on the rhytm of the rowing. Push once, now pull. Push again, pull once more. The lyrics lined up perfectly with the movement of our bodies. The oars almost became our instruments… in our orchestra of serf girls that sang their song as they crossed the frozen river. Whenever Ludmila cracked her whip and ordered us to fasten the pace, we would sing the next lyrics:

Now we pass the white birch tree

We pull so hard at one, two, three!

Ay-da, da! Ay-da!

Ay-da, da! Ay-da!

Push so hard at one, two, three!

As we switched to these lyrics, we rowed with all our strength, giving everything we had. Our bodies burned like the coals heating up the factories in the western cities of the Empire. We became the coal and we shoveled ourselves in the furnace… turning our heat into energy. Our muscles were sore and hurt, but the rhytm of the song wouldn’t allow us to lose the momentum. We had to keep going… keep the pace of the song. Our feet were almost slipping on the wet planks of the deck, our view was impaired by our unkempt hair falling down on our forehead, with sweat dropping directly into our eyes… but the rhytm of the song had to be sustained by the rhytm of the oars. After a while, Ludmila would tell us to relax and slow the pace. We would continue the song, singing it’s last lyrics:

On the icy water we row along

On this frozen steppe we sing our song

Ay-da, da! Ay-da!

Ay-da, da! Ay-da!

On this frozen steppe we sing our song!

Push your oar

Pull your oar

Push again and pull once more.

Nobody teaches you this song. You learn it on your first day on the ship. You are a new prisoner… you are scared and helpless. You are not sure what to do or what to say, so you just keep quiet. Then, after a few minutes of rowing, as the ship gains some momentum, quickly moving down the river, the women around you start to sing the song. You don’t know the lyrics… but you catch on quickly. After one hour, you already know the lyrics and you sing along with them. The song is now forever written into your memory. It’s the pattern we must follow when working. It’s the sweet comforting sound we use to ease each other’s pain. We were in this together… and this song was our legacy. The song almost became a part of The Ship of the Terrible. It came there when the ship first set sail and would stay there for the rest of the ship’s existence.

The ship set sail for the first time in 39 A.R.T. It was designated as a prison for traitors of the Empire. It would be used to transport components, from the factories of Cherepovets all the way to Petrograd, where they would be used to create the mechanical beasts of war the Empire needed in it’s war against the Fatherland. Many ships in the west of the Empire ran on coal or oil, thus, in order to save resources, this ship used human work as it’s engine. The components it transported were expensive and difficult to fabricate… and the government considered using row boats since they would attract less attention from the metallic monstrosities the Fatherland sent in the sky above. In the western regions of the Empire, we refer to them as “bombers”, although I understand that many of you may not be familiar with these machines. They floated on the sky and dropped explosives on our cities, villages and transports, attempting to wreck havoc and weaken our war effort. The rowing ships were less likely to attract attention… as they appeared as a slow, common transport, used to carry workers or travelers, rather than soldiers or factory materials. Even if the Fatherland figured out the purpose of this ship… the Empire wouldn’t be too bothered if they sunk us. We were just expendable serfs that disobeyed the Tsarina.

The first woman the Empire brought on this ship, was Ruslana. A woman in her mid-thirties, with dark, black hair, green eyes and a generous body shape… large breasts and large buttocks… and slightly thick legs. She was condemned to row on the ship for the rest of her life. She always sat at the back of the rowing deck, on the last row, to the right. I could clearly see her… I could see the scars on her back… they were indeed old and they almost faded away. At that time, I had no idea why they arrested her… or what kind of villainous deeds could a woman do to be sentenced to row for the rest of her life. Two other prisoners knew, however. One of them was Irina… a woman roughly the same age as Ruslana, rowing right next to her. A gal with curly, light brown hair, dark brown eyes and quite generous breasts… almost as large as Ruslana’s. Both of them were probably mothers… and both of them were still keeping their beauty and attractiveness, although enduring harsh punishments. Irina came just after Ruslana and ever since, they rowed together. There was just one small detail that ruined Irina’s appearance… whenever she opened her mouth, you could notice her missing tooth. Rumor has it, it was a golden tooth that the captain of the ship removed when she was brought here.

The last woman in this enigmatic triad, was Aleksandra…sitting just in front of Ruslana. A gal who just turned 30 when I was brought on the ship. She was a slim blonde with light colored hair and dark, almost pitch-black eyes. A mysterious contrast, although… I should say… a pitch-black eye. Her right eye was covered by a black patch. Ludmila, the overseer, told her to keep the eye patch on at all times… except when she gets herself cleaned. Whether it was about discipline, or Ludmila was indeed disturbed by what she saw under the eye patch, I may never know. Aleksandra wasn’t a bad fellow, not at all… but there was indeed something eerie and disturbing about her that had my mind asking questions… not that I would get any answers… since Aleksandra barely spoke.

Those three gals knew each other before they arrived on the ship. They must have conspired together in their crimes against the Empire. All three of them were condemned to serve for life. They had a menacing reputation as the worst of the worst… although hardly any of us knew what awful deeds they committed. Personally, I was intrigued, rather than scared. Ten years is a long stay on the ship… I had to keep my mind busy with something, so I would always search for interesting subjects around me. However… I would be an ungrateful brat, not to admit that, the most important thing that kept me going everyday, was neither my endless search for mystery and intrigue, nor the song that synchronized with our rowing. No, the soul that kept me pushing forward was my dear Stanislava. Right next to me… to my left, to be precise, Stanislava was holding to the same oar as I was. A redhead with emerald-green eyes and a tall posture, with long, beautiful legs. Her lips were small and soft and her nose had a slightly broken shape… something that most people found unattractive… but not me… for that little imperfection was just part of who Stanislava was… she wasn’t perfect, but she was my dearest and closest friend… my comrade and my soul.

We knew each other since we were teenagers… we often worked in the fields together. I soon realized that Stanislava was an intelligent gal, so I encouraged her to continue her studies, exactly as I intended. Of course, she was that close friend that I brought in the alcohol trade. Sometimes, I blame myself for dragging my friend in this prison. On the other hand… I know that I couldn’t let my friend struggle and starve, so I had to help her someway or another. She was never mad at me… and never blamed me for this situation. Everyday on the ship, I would think of ways of making it up to her.

 

[Jones_Tims]

Continuation of Chapter I

“I want to see that back sweating, whore!”

My line of thought was interrupted by Oksana… the drum girl. The lowest in rank of all members of the crew. A woman from Petrograd which you would immediately recognize in a large crowd… her straight black hair, her pale white skin and her dark red lips, standing straight with a slim figure. As I have heard, she was once just a serf, like Stanislava and I, although she wasn’t very bright. Although, she knew how to use her body to get what she needed. She slept around with an officer in the army, and he got her this post… to work as the drum girl on the ship. I heard other rumors that she almost got sentenced to rowing for prostitution… and now, this bitch stares at us from above, with pride and confidence, ordering us around. Stanislava wanted to turn around and curse her, but I signaled her not to. She would just attract Ludmila’s whip… and I know for certain that I won’t stand seeing my dear Stanislava’s back turning red again.

I complied… for that moment. I slowly let a slow moan of exhaustion get out of my throat, pleasing Oksana. As the sweat ran down from my neck it spilled between my naked breasts, down to my belly and eventually on the rags that covered my intimate parts. By the end of the day, it would soak in sweat, bringing a chill down my spine. At the moment, I was still two days away from any bath I could get, so I knew I had to deal with the smell. And so, I pushed again and pulled once more, as the song said. So did the other 39 girls on the ship. It was just another day of my sentence… so why did I even bring it up? Well… the day had nothing particularly unique… just the same routine… waking up early in the morning, going to the toilets in the back of the rowing deck. The toilets were in a cramped room… it was four of them… sitting in pairs next to each other. You had to go there together with your oar partner, since each pair of rowing girls had their legs chained together. As soon as we were done we were ordered back to the oars. We would row for a few hours on an empty stomach… easily the worst part of the day. At noon, we would take a short break, when we would each receive a bowl with food… usually fish soup. No spoons. We had to hold the bowl in our hands and slurp the soup. As soon as we were done we would pass the bowl to the overseer and continue rowing for the next hours. In the evening we would be busy with other chores around the deck… cleaning the restrooms, washing and scrubbing the floor of the ship, washing the clothes, cooking and sometimes, other kinds of work, for the people in Petrograd… translating foreign letters, calculating expenses and other kinds of trades… although this kind of work was reserved for prisoners that Ludmila trusted. After all this work, we would eat our dinner… following the same rules as when we ate lunch. After lunch, we were allowed to use the toilet one last time, and then, we would go to sleep.

So, as I said before, no… it wasn’t a different day. Just the same, monotone, aimless wander through life that all boat girls had to deal with. No, it was the night that set things into motion… that brought something different. I was resting my body below the bench where I would usually row… next to Stanislava. We were resting our heads on some sacks filled with corn seeds that were sitting against the walls. They would, at some point be brought to the kitchen and minced to make some flour. However, until then, they would serve as pillows for us. Stanislava fell asleep quickly and I was watching her… she deserved that much… at least when she was unconscious, she wouldn’t have to deal with the burden of everyday life as a boat girl. She would forget everything… every worry… every punishment. She would also forget me… but I was more than willing to make that sacrifice, if it meant that my dear friend would find some rest. As I would later found out, that night, she had a dream. She saw a tall man… in what looked like military clothing… dark, almost black clothing. She was crawling across a snowy plain, helpless and aimless… and that man approached her. He grabbed her, then carried her in his strong arms. Where were they headed? We never found out, since she never remembered the rest of the dream. I, on the other hand, was permanently awake… in my endless search for intrigue and mystery. Funny that… I was always searching, with curiosity and excitement… and that night… intrigue searched for me.

As I was taking another look at Stanislava, I could feel something tickling my leg… a human hand! I immediately turned, ready to charge at whoever was touching me, but in a quick motion, I was immobilized by a stronger body. It was Ruslana… the first prisoner on the ship… she pressed her body against mine and covered my mouth with her right hand. I was grasping for some air, but she told me to keep quiet. Thankfully, I didn’t woke up anyone… or I would have been in so much trouble. What was Ruslana doing? I was so afraid of what she might do to me. However, I knew that she was stronger than me and I wouldn’t be able to win a fight against her. And… in case she would try to do… that… disgusting thing to me… I could just scream and then tell the guards what happened. So, I decided to wait it out. After she looked left and right, making sure that nobody woke up, she approached me and whispered into my ear:

“I noticed that tattoo on your right knee this morning. It is indeed a beautiful one. You probably don’t know what it means, but I do. Tomorrow in the afternoon, we should talk about it. Meet me in the kitchen.”

After that, she slowly crawled back to her sleeping spot. Irina was obviously awake and in on it… since she could feel the movement of Ruslana’s legs. They were chained together, after all. I’m not sure if I misremember it or not, but I think Aleksandra kept her head raised, observing us. The enigmatic triad was in on it again… a new deed. They were a shady group I observed with interest, but I never imagined that they could observe me. How foolish I was… of course, every girl on this ship would indulge in this game of searching for intrigue. Maybe… we were all these snowflakes… sure… we were different, but in the end… we all served the same purpose and were driven by the same mechanisms. That illusion of uniqueness I had… crumbled in mere seconds. And for once, I was the one who knew so much less than those I observed…

Indeed, I did have a tattoo on my right knee… a small black image of a poppy… I never quite knew what it meant, or why I had it. Someone tattooed it on my knee when I was little… I can’t even remember when. My aunt told me that my parents wanted me to bear this symbol on me… to remind me that I was different. I admit, I never gave it any thought… I just presumed it was a symbol my parents would use to recognize me… if they would ever come back.

Such an irony… I spent all those dark days searching for intrigue and fascinating stories…and the ink that would write the story I was searching for was already spilled years ago. The intrigue came searching for me, this time. And I admit, I was overwhelmed by shivers and I was trembling with fear.

 

[Barbaria1]

An intriguing and fresh story. Do continue!

 

[KageKamen]

An intruiging start that sets the scene well.

 

[Jones_Tims]

As @Eulalia pointed out in her post on New Threads, the song that the girls sing is an adaptation of the "Song of the Volga Boatmen".

 

[Jones_Tims]

The second installment in the series.

Song of the Volga Boatgirls

Chapter II: Hunting pack

In moments of fear, our minds run crazy, quickly searching for a solution… a path to escape… a clear direction to follow, so you can put as much distance between you and the menace that threatens you. Every animal in the taiga is just like us… following the same line of action… from bugs to packs of wolves… they all fear death. Do the wolves hunt in packs so they will pose a greater menace? A likely story. However, I think we all know that… deep down… they form packs… because they fear death. They fear the moment when even a greater predator, would have them cornered. And when you are cornered, no matter what you are… wolf, bear, doe… you know that you have nowhere to run. Fear overwhelms you… but fear no longer serves any purpose. Fear is the fuel that pumps into us when we have an open path and a chance to run. It guides us, as we give everything we have, struggling to escape from danger. But when the predator corners you… you can’t use the fear to save you. You must let your fear go. Your new ally… is wrath. You let wrath take over your body… and every single part of your body becomes a murderous tool. Your jaws are ready to bite, your fists are ready to punch, your legs are ready to kick and your whole body is ready to throw it’s weight at your foe. Sitting there, in a stalemate, waiting for your predator to attack, you let a loud growl come out of your throat. You are now a killing machine… just like your foe. Fear forces us to stay away from the unknown… to avoid confusion and the unexpected. Wrath… wrath has no concern for avoiding the unknown. Your confrontation with the foe will clarify who is the hunter and who is hunted.

Well, in those days of early December, I was suddenly forced out of my hibernation, by a menace that discovered my hiding spot… and smoked me out. I knew back then that, at some point my legs would give up and… I wouldn’t be able to run anymore. But until then, I cowered in fear… trying to avoid the danger. But at some point… I’d have to replace fear with wrath.

December 2nd, 45 A.R.T. (After the Return of the Tsarina)

I always woke up early in the morning… at least ten minutes before Ludmila and Oksana would slam the door open. After my first few weeks on the ship, I quickly adapted my sleeping schedule… that sound of the door being slammed open and the sounds of boots stomping drove my insane too many times to bear with it. I simply wasn’t able to put up with it. And thus… I would spend each of my mornings, sitting on the floor, staring at the bench above my head, on which I will toil at the oar for the rest of the day. I wait there, in utter silence… next to my dear Stanislava. My stomach is empty, begging me for some food… but there will be no food for my stomach until noon, so I simply ignore it. I enjoy the last minutes of rest… the last minutes of comforting darkness, feeling the warmth of Stanislava’s body, as she rests her body next to me.

“Wake up, prisoners!”

Ludmila’s shout echoed across the room, making all of us to jump on our two feet. A girl or two bumped their heads into the benches, but still stood up in a matter of seconds. Two by two, we would each head for the toilets in the back and get out in only two minutes. After we emptied our guts of any traces of our food from yesterday, we would sit on the benches, and once Ludmila cracked her whip into the wooden planks of the deck, we would start rowing… singing our song… pushing our oars… pulling our oars… pushing again and pulling once more.

The morning was all the same as usual. The same work we had to do on an empty stomach. However, I remember that during the second shift, after we ate the lunch, I stumbled into an interesting set of circumstances. As we were pushing forward and leaning back, among all the sounds of wooden oars swinging, benches screeching and bodies moving, I could still hear Ludmila’s voice. After a few months of work on the ship, your senses adjust to this lifestyle… you begin to make up whole conversation, even when they are blurred by the clinging sounds of the human engine running The Ship of The Terrible. Ludmila was telling Oksana something. I figured out the subject was pretty important, since Oksana ceased to hit the drums, leaving us to row by ourselves for a short while.

“There is this document from the Republic that we got in the capital. We have to get it translated before we return.” explained Ludmila, still keeping her firm, serious voice.

“Let me have a look… I still remember some of it from school…” answered Oksana. She continued to read something, with a broken pronunciation: “Demande. Fusils à longue portée”. She paused for a few seconds then she assured Ludmila: “Oh, that’s pretty simple… It’s a… demand… Yes, a demand from the Republic.”

“Yes, I figured out that much, I wasn’t born yesterday!” mumbled Ludmila, with a slightly aggressive tone. “A demand for what?”

“Well… wait, I know this one… it’s a demand for food, I think. You know, in the… Consulate… the fusils are a traditional dish. It says they want them long…”

Oksana had no idea what she was talking about. Yes, once again, she proved that she was just as stupid as we thought she was. Ludmila was visibly annoyed by the situation… she didn’t know what the document said, but she suspected that Oksana was clueless. The second in command was always concerned with translating documents. It wasn’t part of her attributions… since she was the overseer, not some editor for the Empire. But as always, the bureaucracy had it’s ways of turning everyone in the machine they needed for each task. The same way Stanislava and I, two serf girls were considered more useful at the oar, rather than providing food and liquor for their home village. Guard or prisoner, all women on The Ship of The Terrible felt the same pain and sorrow… that exhaustion of aimlessly wandering through the wild… traveling the river up and down for a seemingly endless mission. Sure, they said it was very important… delivering mechanical parts to Petrograd. What for? Building machines of war. Machines of war… that will do what? They would wreck havoc on the fronts near Kiev and Minsk, stomping the advancing platoons of the Fatherland. And we often asked ourselves… what should we win this war for? For our Tsarina? For the upcoming years of sorrow, hard toil, starvation and poverty? For the liberties and promises that were taken away from us when the Tsar died? For what we knew, the armies of the Fatherland could bring us something we expected. Not comfort… neither hope. They would bring us change. A change for the better, most likely. There was only one thing they could bring that would make our situation worse… and that was death. Although, very often, I doubted that death was a worse alternative than what we already had. Even death was a gift to be considered… bittersweet death, bringing us eternal rest… turning us into the frozen corpses that would eternally rest at the bottom of this frozen river. That was of course, if their beasts in the sky would pick us as their targets. But what if their soldiers raised their red, white and black flags in Petrograd? What would be the fate of a serf girl once her homeland became a dominion of the expansionist Fatherland? Some nights, we dreamt of men in dark military uniforms slamming the door of the rowing room wide open, breaking our chains and telling us: “Ihr seid alle frei!”… Telling us that we are free… finally free… to wander the streets of Petrograd… to work in one of the pubs or the taverns of the capital… earning our money that we would carelessly spend on booze, tasty food and even some beautiful new clothes. We would sit in the bars until morning, singing songs together with the soldiers, chatting and hearing all kinds of stories and gossips… perhaps even meeting some handsome men. The officers of the Fatherland were mannered and elegant gentlemen… they always knew their manners… and they always had something fascinating to say… something a woman like me could listen to night after night. Some of us dreamt of even greater fates… that some officers and soldiers would take some serf girls to Berlin… they would settle together in a beautiful house. The women of the Fatherland knew riches and luxuries that a serf girl couldn’t even dream of. A serf girl would be so easily impressed by an officer or soldier giving her some small delights. Then again, we may have been desperate and dreamful, but we weren’t foolish enough not to consider less delightful fates. They could just as well load us in trucks… you know… those machines that walk on four wheels and carry the burden across the land… they would load us and send us to the factories… putting us to work… mincing meat and making sausages in those smelly sweatshops. But even that fate, would be much preferred to those years that awaited us at the oar.

I snapped out of my delirium… out of that pointless fantasy and remembered about Ludmila’s dilemma and Oksana’s lack of help. I remembered the title that Oksana failed to translate. I don’t know exactly what made me do it… but I said it out loud:

“Long range rifles!”

Ludmila turned towards me in an instant. I couldn’t see it, since I was still rowing with all my strength. But I could hear the wooden planks below creaking. As I said before, after serving at the oar for months, my senses sharpened. Sharp, like Ludmila’s nails, that stung my left shoulder like the claws of a wild beast, holding the prey in its paws. She grabbed my head with her right hand, squeezing my cheeks firmly. I stopped rowing, having to leave Stanislava to bear the burden of the oar by herself for a few minutes.

“What did you just say?” said Ludmila in her usual cold tone. She didn’t seem that angry… just perplexed that I dared to yap in the middle of a work shift. Nevertheless, I continued:

“What madam Oksana just read… it’s about long range rifles.”

“Does this whore need to be reminded to keep her mouth shut? I think I know better that this letter is obviously about food!” Oksana yelled, cutting me short. Ludmila immediately turned her head towards her, indicating her that she should keep it quiet. Even if Ludmila spoke to the lowest scum of the Empire, you had to stay out of it. Oksana swallowed her words, gulping and sealing her mouth. For once, it almost felt like she was struck by Ludmila’s whip. It was indeed a satisfying moment. For a second, I forgot about everything… the ship, Stanislava, my sentence, the war. The only thing that mattered was that I knocked that smug whore a few steps behind. I might have been a slave to the Empire, but Oksana was Ludmila’s bitch… and she just accepted her role, running back with her tail between her legs.

“So… you speak the tongue of the Republic?” Ludmila continued, focusing all her attention on me.

Stanislava was working for us both for now… but I barely managed to catch a glimpse of her smiling… she knew that my careless wonder in places where I don’t belong was finally showing some payoff. Confidently, I continued:

“Yes, madam Ludmila. I know the tongue of the Republic… and… I also know the tongue of the Fatherland very well.”

“Is that so? And how did you happen to learn these two languages?”

“Madam… I… I was a student… and I learned these languages in school. I also read books written in the Republic and the Fatherland… about history… and I always wanted to learn more and more.”

Ludmila stared at me with interest and burning passion. She grabbed the letter and shoved it in front of me. She told me to translate it. I grabbed the letter… my hand was shaking like hell… I almost dropped the letter when I grabbed it. I could only imagine what would have happened if I dropped it and it fell between two of the planks of our deck, heading straight for the lowest deck. Ludmila would disfigure me with her whip. I held the letter firmly… almost as if I was a mortal that received a heavenly gift from a goddess… I opened it and I slowly approached Stanislava.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” yelled Ludmila, her enthusiasm fading away in a mere second, immediately being replaced by her strange, cold stare that I knew.

“Forgive me, madam. Stanislava… also knows the tongue of the Republic. I am actually doing better understanding the language of the Fatherland… but for a text like this, I would always read it together with Stanislava… we would understand it better.”

Ludmila nodded, understanding the situation. She told Stanislava to leave the oar for a moment and take a look at the letter. We both held the letter, with one hand each. After taking a look at the text, we figured out that the Republic demanded ten, high quality long range rifles, engraved with the royal symbols, to be assembled at a factory in Cherepovets for some soldiers and officers that distinguished themselves in combat, through heroic deeds. Those weapons were meant to be offered as gifts for their bravery and valor. Ludmila smiled approvingly, with her notorious, half-faced smile. But this time… it was different. It wasn’t creeping me… and I didn’t feel the shivers anymore. This time… it was warm. It was pleasing to see her smile. I wanted to offer a smile as well, but Ludmila immediately switched back to her cold, blank expression. She told me that she’ll talk with Stanislava and I at a later time. For now, we had work to do.

I immediately resumed my work. I already felt guilty for letting Stanislava bear the burden. Not only that, but our pause made it harder for the girls on our side of the ship as well. I could already feel them despising us. Of course, they couldn’t turn around, but I knew for sure that I would be greeted by cold stares as soon as diner time would come. However, for now, I was comforted by Stanislava’s warm, approving smile. She forgave me for leaving her behind. She was probably even more excited than I was. For once… after months of humiliation… we got into that whore’s face. We did it together.

As I was enjoying our sweet victory, I couldn’t help but notice that someone else was showing her appreciation. I turned my head to the right and I saw her. Ruslana was staring at me… and she was smiling. I almost forgot about her and what happened during the night. What was it about me or this situation that she found so satisfying? For a moment, I felt that her smile is more disturbing than Ludmila’s. She was staring at me… almost with a perverted look on her face… and she was almost grinning. I kept a straight face… almost frowning, for a few seconds, trying to make her turn her head away. It didn’t work so I figured out I’d have to turn my head and keep rowing. She would lose interest after a while and let me be. But she didn’t… after half a minute, I turned my head towards right, and she was still observing me. Less enthusiastic and joyfully, but she was still looking at me. I couldn’t bear it any longer. What was the meaning of this? I tried, so hardly, to just face forward and pretend I don’t care for the time being. I don’t even know when she stopped looking, since I didn’t take a second look to my right until our work shift was over.

I was too anxious about the whole situation to meet her in the kitchen, as she proposed. After that intrusion the night before, and her creeping stare during that afternoon, I wouldn’t dare come near her. I felt like a pray being stalked by her hungry, growling predator. For the moment, all I could do, was run away from danger. I would keep the distance, hoping that this predator would lose it’s interest. I went through the rest of the day… slurping that foul smelling fish soup from my bowl, not even feeling the taste anymore. I almost funneled the whole soup down my throat in a matter of seconds, almost as if I had to drink the poison that would bring my demise… I didn’t want to feel it’s taste… I didn’t want it to choke me… I just wanted it to be over, as soon as possible.

Before going to sleep, I headed for the toilets, with Stanislava, as Ludmila ordered us. I should have known that my predator would corner me in that tight spot. Just as we sat on the toilets, Ruslana and Irina came in, sitting on the opposite toilets, right in front of us.

“You didn’t come. Why?” Ruslana asked me… almost with a condemning tone.

I didn’t say anything. I froze. I wanted to pretend I didn’t hear her or that… I didn’t remember what she was talking about… but she knew better. She continued her monologue.

“Don’t you want to find out about your tattoo? I heard stories about you… about your hunger for knowledge… your burning passion for intrigue and mystery. I thought you were the curious kind.”

 

[Jones_Tims]

Continuation of Chapter II

Those words ran in my mind for the hours that followed. While sitting in my sleeping spot, Stanislava kept guard, comforting me, holding me in her arms and caressing me. I had to tell her about what happened last night. I told her the story about Ruslana. She was slightly distressed by what she heard… but also enraged. She wanted to get up and head to Ruslana, to bite one of her fingers for touching me. She kept guard for the night… although I encouraged her to go to sleep. I pleaded with her to go to sleep, but the more I tried, the harder it became to keep my eyes open… until I fell asleep, with the memory of my dear Stanislava guarding me.

December 3rd, 45 A.R.T.

I would easily wake up from sudden noises, even if those noises were muffled. The door to our rowing room was opened. How could this be? I would always wake up before Ludmila and Oksana descended on our deck. It wasn’t morning just yet… it was just past midnight time. Oksana came on our deck… all alone. What was she doing here? I couldn’t see much, since the lights were out, but I could hear the sound of small pieces of metal clinging against a hardwood surface. Chains. Chains that were dragged by moving legs. Two women in the front rows got up on their feet and stepped outside of the room, waiting in front of the doorway. Oksana slowly approached the back of the room, her feet making a small creak each time she would step on the wooden planks of the deck. I pretended I was asleep, and I signaled Stanislava to do the same. She approached me and squatted, pulling out what looked like a key. She approached my leg, unlocking the shackle that held me chained to Stanislava. She grabbed me by my arm, holding it firmly and told me to get up. She pushed me forward and told me to walk faster. Stanislava got up, looking desperately after me… trying to reach me. She knew something was up.

Oksana locked the door behind us and told me to head downstairs, as the two other women were also descending the stairs. Still slightly blinded by the intensity of the light, I tried to take a better look at them. They were two brown haired women… I think they were called “Bianca” and “Kristina”. I didn’t know much about Bianca, but Kristina was a convicted murderer. She killed her older husband while he was asleep, hoping that she could pin the murder on the housemaid and then inherit all her husband’s fortunes. Unfortunately for her, a butler caught her in the middle of the act and immediately announced the police. The case was taken up by the Oprichnina, and they sentenced her to 40 years at the oar. I began to wonder… if a gruesome murderer like her would only get 40 years, what could a woman like Ruslana do to receive the life sentence? A shiver ran down my spine, as I processed this thought, and then realized that, we were heading for the lower deck storage. That place was restricted to prisoners. What was Oksana planning?

As my mind was racing with questions, she unlocked the door to the storage and shoved me inside, Bianca and Kristina following soon after. Oksana slowly closed the door behind her. I felt it was all about to go down… something bad was about to happen. Once again, I felt like a prey… surrounded by hungry predators… and their growls were louder and louder. I took a few steps behind, breathing heavily, searching desperately for an object that I could use as a weapon.

“Think you’re so smart, isn’t that right, whore?”

Oksana yapped those words, taking me by surprise. She was smiling at me, in a taunting manner. She continued:

“You will not embarrass me in front of Ludmila ever again. I will make sure of that. Get her!”

As soon as she gave the order, Bianca and Kristina came charging at me, pumping their fists forward. I immediately turned away from them, running for a table. I grabbed a potato from an opened sack and immediately threw it at Bianca. She raised her arms and blocked the incoming projectile. I followed it by a second and a third one. I knew it wouldn’t work, so I had to quickly adapt my strategy. I immediately grabbed the whole sack and threw all the potatoes on the ground, making a mess in front of me. Bianca slipped on one of the potatoes, almost falling to the ground. She stumbled and managed to hold herself onto a shelf at the last moment. In the meantime, Kristina was coming from me on the other side of the table. I kicked the table towards her, hoping it would startle her. She anticipated my move and she dodged it.

I ran behind a shelf holding some wooden crates. I was desperately searching through the shelves for a sharp or a blunt object that I could use to defend myself. I didn’t even know what I would do next. Oksana blocked the door, so I wouldn’t be able to make it out of the storage. But at the moment, this wasn’t a fact to be considered. My instincts kicked in… and the only thing that mattered, was to buy just another few seconds to survive… again and again. I managed to get my hands on a metallic can. Just before taking a defensive stance, Kristina grabbed my right foot and dragged me down. I stumbled and hit the ground, my bare back feeling the wooden splinters of the deck scratching and impaling me. I immediately smashed Kristina’s head with the can, causing her to step back. I got back up on my feet and tried to punch her in her left breast, but she dodged it, and grabbed my arm. She threw me to the floor again. This time, I fell straight down on my chest, hurting my breasts and my belly. The impact made me drop the can and let it roll across the floor. Kristina came from behind and grabbed my legs, holding them firmly, while Bianca came from the front and held my arms.

Oksana approached us, ordering them to hold me tight. She pulled something out of her coat… a long wooden stick and a rag. She forced me to open my mouth and she stuffed the whole rag inside my mouth, filling it completely. Bianca was sitting with her buttocks on my shoulders, her legs facing forward, while Kristina was pressing her knees over my legs, as I felt the splinters on the floor entering deeper and deeper into my belly and my breasts. Oksana ordered Kristina to lower my cloth. She grabbed the rag covering my buttocks and dragged it down, to reveal my bare bottom. Oksana readied her stick and told me:

“Let’s see if you will still want to sit by Ludmila’s side when you won’t even be able to sit at all, chattering whore!”

As I was struggling to set myself free, Oksana raised the stick, and slammed it against my buttocks with all her strength. I wanted to yell… to growl like a wild animal, unable to bear the pain that ran through my body. I began shaking violently, struggling to free myself, but both Bianca and Kristina were holding me firmly. Oksana raised her stick again and she struck me a second time. This time, the first wound still fresh on my skin, it almost felt as if my very own flesh was cut open. I yelled so hard, I could swear my vocal chords would break.

“We’re just getting started, bitch! Just wait until I’ll bring the salt!” Oksana yelled from behind.

I knew I had to get out of there, or they would skin me alive. I was struck a third and a fourth time, while I was desperately searching for a way of escaping. I clenched my teeth… as much as the rag in my mouth would allow me, and I endured it. And then, I figured out a way of breaking free. I shook left and right, in short, quick motions, making Bianca that was sitting on my shoulders, to lose some of her grasp. I managed to free my left arm, and I removed the rag that was stuffed in my mouth. Bianca grabbed my arm, trying to twist it, but it was too late for her. I immediately tilted my head to the right and bit her leg with all my strength. Bianca yelled loudly, as I clenched my teeth into her flesh, opening some small wounds and causing her to bleed. I slammed my fists into the ground and pumped myself upwards, forcing Bianca to get off me. I shook my legs, as Kristina was pressing harder against me and Oksana was flogging me hysterically, trying to subdue me. I managed to free my right leg and kick Kristina in the face. I got up on my feet and caught Oksana’s stick in my hands. My palms felt the pain, but now I was wrestling with my enemy for that weapon. Bianca was still struggling to get up, but Kristina managed to get back into the fight and tried to attack me from my left side. I swiftly kicked her in the stomach with my left elbow and then I punched her in the left eye with my right fist. Oksana used this opportunity to flog me once more. I immediately jumped her and bit her right shoulder. Oksana flogged me two more times, trying to get her revenge for the wound I inflicted upon her.

I charged for the exit, grabbing my rag and raising it to cover my buttocks as I was running. Just as I was approaching the exit, Kristina got her hands on a chain and threw it towards me. The chain tied itself around my ankle and caught me. Kristina dragged the chain, forcing me back to the ground. I immediately turned and began wrestling for that chain, as Bianca and Oksana were approaching, armed with a metal can and a wooden stick. I got up on my feet and managed to get the chain out of Kristina’s hands. I swinged the chain, whipping Bianca’s belly, forcing her to back down. Oksana still managed to hit me with her stick again. I wrapped the chain around her body and dragged her towards me, as I raised my knee. I kicked her in the belly with my right knee, forcing her to grasp for air. She fell to the ground, but she also made me fall, dragging me down and forcing me to release the chain from my hands. Oksana immediately grabbed my arms and aided by Bianca, forced me to the ground.

Oksana was now sitting on top of me, with Bianca sitting on my legs and Kristina preparing to sit with her buttocks on my head. I knew that there was no way of escaping out of that one… if all three of them would sit on me, I’d be done for. Oksana managed to swing her chain once, whipping my breasts, opening a small wound. Thankfully, in the time she went for the chain, she had to let my arm go, and I scratched her left cheek. Then, I punched her in the belly and forced her to get off me. Just then, Kristina grabbed me from behind, squeezing me firmly. I stomped onto her right foot repeatedly, forcing her to let me go. In all the commotion going on, Bianca went for the chain, but she didn’t expect I would do the same. I swinged my leg, kicking Bianca’s pelvis, causing her to lose balance and take a few steps back. I had the chain in my hands and I began swinging it around hysterically, maniacally threatening all three of them to stay back. It became a mad game for taking control of the chain. Oksana and Bianca were trying to approach me from the front, to distract me, while Kristina, the strongest of the three, would flank me from behind. To avoid this, I headed for a corner of the room, so I wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

We stood in a stalemate for a few seconds. I knew this wouldn’t last forever… since I would feel the exhaustion from swinging the chain at some point, and they would get the jump on me. I had to make my move… I intended to taunt Kristina, and as she would come charging at me, I would just pretend to attack her with my chain, causing her to take a step back. I would then kick her in the belly with my left foot, then swing my chain to the right, injuring Bianca. Eventually, I would throw myself at Oksana, causing her to fall to the ground. The plan was set up and ready to be executed. However, I pulled out a trick that I never knew I had up my sleeve.

Just as I was preparing to execute my strategy, the storage door slammed open. I couldn’t believe it… Stanislava ran inside, followed by Irina, Aleksandra and Ruslana. They made a circle around the three aggressors that had me cornered. As I would later find out, Ruslana, Irina and Aleksandra had an improvised lock pick hidden in the toilets on the rowing deck. They figured out Oksana was going to hurt me and they descended downstairs.

“Oksana… I warn you now… this won’t end well for you. Ludmila won’t like it.” Ruslana told to the main agitator, trying to talk some sense into her.

Irina and Aleksandra were approaching Kristina. Irina took a defensive stance, keeping her left hand raised at an angle that would protect her face… hiding her missing tooth. Aleksandra took a similar stance, however her left arm was raised slightly higher, in order to defend her only healthy eye. Let me tell you… one day, when we were washing ourselves, Aleksandra had her eye patch removed. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of her injured eye. In an instant, she covered the injured eye with her hand, and her healthy eye had me in the crosshairs. That lone eye, almost spoke to me… it condemned me for daring to peek at her injured eye. And at that moment, in the storage, Aleksandra had the exact same look in her eye. She would murder Kristina right there if she dared to blind her.

As Irina and Aleksandra were ganging up on the strongest one in the group, Stanislava was angrily approaching Bianca. I… found myself approaching Oksana… accompanied by… Ruslana. I still had a chain in my hands and now we were the majority… The thirst for vengeance was taking over me, every muscle in my body impatiently waiting for the moment when I will swing my chain and open a flesh wound on Oksana’s chest. Just as I was struggling to control myself, Oksana brought it to an end:

“That’s enough! You’ve proven your point. Head upstairs now whores! Now, before Ludmila comes here!”

As much as my animalistic instincts wanted to chew hard from Oksana’s flesh… Ludmila’s name still bared some weight into my thoughts. I dropped the chain and approached Stanislava, looking for my closest ally. All eight of us kept staring at each other for a while… then, after a short stand-off, Oksana, Bianca and Kristina took a few steps back, in order to allow us to retreat. I didn’t know what happened back then… but at the moment, I was overwhelmed by the situation… the adrenaline was still pumping… and I was struggling to comprehend the facts that hit me like Oksana’s wooden instrument of torture… Oksana could corner me at anypoint, and unleash her wrath upon me. Bianca and Kristina were here faithful dogs, following her commands. Ruslana, Irina and Aleksandra had the resources to leave the rowing room at night, as they pleased. But most importantly… I was now caught up between two predators, that were ready to kill each other. I had to choose my pack and stick to it. My legs simply gave up on me, and I fell down, dizzy and helpless. Stanislava and Alekskandra managed to catch me before I hit the ground. The last thing I remember from that night… was Stanislava’s concerned expression, accompanied by Aleksandra’s lone eye, staring at me wide open.

At the moment… I still had many unanswered questions… but I knew one thing for certain. I didn’t fear Oksana as much at the moment. At that moment, I knew that there is only one way to no longer fear my predator. I needed to join my pack of predators and let any other pack know… this is our taiga.