Natalie came to a halt a few feet away and stared at the instrument before her.

"It is a Saint Andrew's Cross," said Yuri. "You no doubt recognise it from your national flag."

It was nothing like the cross Natalie was familiar with, the white on blue Saltire she was so proud of. She looked at the one before her with huge apprehension, guessing that the chief was intent on extracting his price in an ironic way - a crucified sacrifice on her national symbol.

Natalie tried to shy away, but Yuri took hold of her slender wrist and placed her right hand on the wood. He guided her to trace the grain with her palms, moving from one arm of the cross to the other.

"Flesh has yielded here, Miss Fullerton - this wood has been drenched by sweat and blood. And your Celtic race has sacrificed its youth to defend its own version of this cross - this symbol of your nation. Tolerance, Miss Fullerton - you came here to offer me your flesh. But the price of my tolerance is a lot higher than you might have thought."

A moment later, Yuri spun her around by the wrist and pressed her against the cross on the wall. He pinned her against the wood with his massive bulk and bent down to whisper in her ear.

"You came here as the sacrificial lamb, intent on bartering your virginity to save your slut of a sister. But I could have taken your virginity at any time - it is not something to be bartered - it is already mine. But I want more than your precious virginity, Miss Fullerton. I want a lot more - your sincerity for one thing."

"I... I don't know what you mean," she gasped, struggling to take in what was happening. This had been part of her plan, but she now realised that her plan was merely a component of a much grander scheme where she had no control at all.

"Yes you do," hissed Yuri Karinov. "Flesh for tolerance, Miss Fullerton - willingly given - not grudgingly sacrificed, but happily offered, time and time again. I want your total surrender to my will. Do we have a deal?"

"No!" blurted Natalie, fear winning over her determination to save her sister. "Look, this was a mistake. I didn't expect it to be like this. Please, you're scaring me. I can't go through with this. Please, let me go."

Yuri laughed in her face, his aromatic breath hinting of whisky - another little irony he had consumed with much pleasure, forsaking his usual cognac. "Did you expect a soft feathered bed - the gratitude of an older man - to lie back and think of some handsome young Romeo as I caringly took your offering - a quick fuck then off you go, your noble duty done? My tolerance does not come so cheap, Miss Fullerton... But you may still earn it. Between now and ten o'clock tomorrow morning, you will give yourself to me in whatever manner I choose, and please me with your efforts, otherwise I wash my hands of you and your sister. We'll let the court decide her fate."

Natalie gazed at him terrified, too afraid to say anything in reply. But was there any point in resisting, even if she could? He had her in his grasp. She had come here willingly. She could only hope the chief would be gentle and his appetite would be weak.

Naive or what!

Sadly, Yuri was feeling ravenously hungry, and his feast the previous day had put him in the mood for more Fullerton flesh. Yuri took one of Natalie's hands and raised it above her head - she offered no resistance. He slipped it into one of the leather cuffs on the cross and buckled it in, doing the same to the other so that both of her arms were pinned over her head. Then Yuri knelt, his face directly in front of her crotch, the pussy hidden behind the dress. Gently, like a caring lover that was sensitive to her state, Yuri reached out and touched Natalie's legs with both hands. He caressed the back of her silky calves then ran up past her thighs till he felt the swell of her pert little ass which was covered modestly by a pair of panties.

He heard her whimper as he gathered the material and pulled it tight then ripped the cotton apart so her panties fell as a tattered rag on the floor. Having bared them beneath the dress, Yuri massaged her ass cheeks; they felt almost boyish when compared to her sister's much fuller and riper buns. He centred a finger over her tight little pucker, it yielded not a fraction. Yuri let out a grunt full of self-satisfaction.

Returning his hands down the back of Natalie's legs, Yuri edged them further and further apart until he reached the ankles. By now they were perfectly positioned on the cross and he buckled each ankle into the cuffs at the bottom, securing his sacrificial virgin into a taut spread-eagled position.

The job done, Yuri stood up and took a step back to admire the bound vision. Natalie's youthful body with its slender limbs so elegantly spread - her face a picture of terrified innocence, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders to fall onto her small but perfect breasts which were contoured by her satin dress.

"So, Miss Fullerton, you wished to plea for your sister. Then I bid you begin."

Natalie was too terrified to respond, she just gazed at the chief wondering what he had in mind for her. Her vague notion of having sex with him, much as he had teasingly described, a quick deflowering on a comfortable bed, was like a mist that had evaporated with the dawn.

"You seem to have lost the power of speech, Miss Fullerton. I want to hear you beg."

"Please, please, spare my sister."

"I told you before - no argument will win me over. I want you to beg me sincerely to take you and make you mine. I suggest you start with the removal of your dress."

Natalie just gazed at him as the reality sunk in. She was going to be deflowered, and she must welcome the act - but how could that be when she hated the man for contriving the situation. And what did he mean by making her his? How far would this go? How much must she sacrifice to save Vicky's life?