Chapter III: 'In the camp'
December 1, 2023 at 9:52 AM
Finally, after five hours of driving, they arrived in the Orel Region. Having reached the settlement of Naryshkino, their bus drove along a concrete road, surrounded on all sides by a solid dense forest, in the direction of the southwest past the small semi-abandoned village with a beautiful and symbolic name 'Pinewood'. On entering the interior, the bus stopped near the gray iron gate, which was tightly locked and above which was the proud wooden sign that read:
SUBURBAN HEALTH SUMMER CAMP 'LIPKI-IVCHEVSKOE' FOR THE MOSCOW ACADEMIC MUSIC SCHOOL AT THE MOSCOW STATE CONSERVATORY NAMED AFTER PETR ILYITCH TCHAIKOVSKY STUDENTS
And a little lower on the fence perched the red sign with this text:PASSAGE OF A TRANSPORT VEHICLES TO THE CAMP TERRITORY IS CARRIED OUT ONLY BY PASSES!
The uniformed security guard came out of the same stupidly gray and nondescript building of the one-story checkpoint. He demanded documents from the bus driver, asked him something and, having received an answer, went into the building, slamming the door. The gate opened automatically, the white rising barrier with a black stripe rose, and the bus drove into the territory. After leaving the rented car, they found theirselves in the familiar surroundings of beloved 'Lipki-Ivchevskoe' summer camp. It occupied a considerable, even vast area of land. Previously, this place was the estate of the privy councilor and chamberlain Alexander Ivanovitch Naryshkin with the same name. However, when the Bolsheviks came to power, it was nationalized and a local sanatorium was organized in it, which then eventually handed over the territory to the Moscow Music School for indefinite use. In addition to the former main landowner’s house, where the directorate and secretariat of the camp are now located, and the side outhouse, which was also given over to administrative needs, ten dormitory houses and also canteen, kitchen, bath, ambulatory infirmary aid station and a couple of wellness facilities with greenhouses are located on the territory. The senior counselor Teryokhin assigned Emil, Masha, Pasha, womanlike four-eyes lad Levchenko and a couple more people to the house No. 7. 'It’s lucky number!' Masha was saying. In addition, the counselor Rumyantseva herself was also quartered there. Having settled in the dormitory building, their group went to the canteen, where selected delicious soup and branded Kiev cutlets were served. As soon as the students sat down at the dining table, Emil laid eyes on the waitress who worked there. It was surprisingly chubby and stocky young girl of quiet appearance with the splendid luxurious bosom and the outstanding convex fatty butt. And not just him, but a lot of other guys cheekily and shamelessly didn’t take their eyes off her, but only the especial scumbags giggled uncontrollably after her. The poor and reserved plumpy girl was so embarrassed that her full and slightly puffy freckled face was flooded with tomato paint, her scarlet lips were pursed, and she was sobbing like a child with the small nose, although she looked about nineteen years old. 'Great Caesar’s ghost, Lyokha, have you seen how excellent her tits are?' one insolent guy asked. 'Hardly the word, Grishka, boobs are gorgeous, ass is superb, she has the whole household with her!' another one answered him. 'I wish to milk this cow for her milkers!' the third guy echoed. 'I would have humped her right here properly!' 'I wanna some fresh milk…' 'But we can pick up to her with chocolates, she definitely eats them…' 'Look at what a croissant!' 'Is she being fed for slaughter here?' One of these jerks even had the audacity and courage to slap the girl’s booty. She gave a startled cry and turned around. 'Hey, beauty, would you like to pour me some milk from your titty in my glass?' nerd Ludwig Schreiber asked her loudly for show, picturesquely burbling words in a deliberate Austrian manner, and he grabbed her breast with all his might, neighing loudly like a stallion. 'Schreiber! Are you dumbhead?!' Rumyantseva screamed at him, unable to stand it. 'Actually, Schreiber, you’re amusing yourself like a child! Aren’t you ashamed? You are adult, you are studying at the Moscow Conservatory, you must have a culture! Eh… As a punishment, I’m depriving you of lunch and a portion of evening compote at evening meal. And now, leave the dining room!' Teryokhin put in a word. Schreiber’s grinning face that was half hidden by greasy and glossy thin black hair of impressive shoulder length and on which the expression of a broken high was clearly read, immediately darkened like a rain cloud and he quickly shuffled out of the room. Everyone immediately forgot about him and continued to eat, and the victim of his harassment continued to deliver provisions as if nothing had happened. 'Bloody austriac… It’s unclear how this idiot got to your school at all…' dumbfounded Mark whispered indignantly. 'Poor girl! I hope she wasn’t hurt?' Masha sighed heavily. Suddenly that girl served them the snack on tray and said kindly with a barely noticeable bow: 'Here is your pea soup with Kiev cutlets and dried fruit compote. Enjoy your meal please…' 'Thanks a lot!' Emil responded enthusiastically. 'Excuse me, how are you?' Masha turned to her. 'Ah? Hm? Who? Me? Well… yeah… I’m OK…' she whispered in confusion. 'Please forgive us for this… narrow-minded person'. 'No problem…' her lips twitched slightly, as if they wanted to curl into a smile. Without saying anything else, she went on to deliver the dishes. 'Poor girl! She’s also shy!' Masha whispered. 'Never mind… After lunch, I’ll talk to this Schreiber, so to speak, face to face!' Emil replied in anticipation.
