Sexpionage ...

[Fossy]

Swallow’s Nest (3)


Momiji Restaurant and Cocktail Bar


Wow, he thought, this place is nice, very nice. He had somehow expected the décor to be reminiscent of a traditional Chinese restaurant, but he was faced with a contemporary looking, minimalist, modern cocktail bar that looked like most of the upmarket ones in downtown-anywhere, with pinpoint lights aimed at the row upon row of alcohol bottles sitting behind the barman.

There was a door to the left which led into the restaurant. Yulia was sitting at the bar, waiting. When she saw him, she smiled, got up and placed her hands on his shoulders as they quickly kissed each other’s cheeks. Stepping back, he stared down at her body, Appraising her from her stunning features to her exposed toes.

“You like it?” She asked with a coyness that belied her dressing style.

Anatol wanted to speak but his throat had dried and so he settled for a definite nod of the head. He sensed that she was wearing a different perfume from yesterday. He didn’t recognise it, but it was explosively sensual; oranges, musk, smokey after-scent, and that’s just for starters. It was simultaneously intoxicating and unsettling for him ... maybe that was her intention.

“You look simply stunning Miss Jelic,” he was finally able to say.

“Cool thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr Radkov. Shall we order some drinks?”

They sat at the bar and took a look at the cocktail menu.



“I’ll have a Moscow Mule,” Anatol said with maybe just a touch of irony.

Yulia ordered a Revolver. The barman smiled making no attempt to cover up where his eyes were roving.

“I simply must ask Yulia, what is that perfume you’re wearing?”

“That’s so cool you ask me. You like?”

“More than that Yulia, I love it. It’s extraordinary.”

The girl smiled and took a drink from the cocktail that had now arrived.

“It really is cool of you to notice Anatol. It’s called My Insolence. Made by Guerlain. Would you like to buy me some?” She giggled as she said this, knowing that the quiet laugh, her dress and her perfume were already delivering the necessary knockout blows to poor Mister Radkov.

“You never know,” he responded with a similar sense of mystery.

“You think it makes me sexy and mysterious Anatol?”

“Without a doubt.” In fact, it made him want to grab her and take her right there and then, but he was far too civilised for that sort of thing.

A young, open neck-shirted man of Asian, maybe Japanese, origin given where they were, walked over to them, rubbing his hands together, ogling the delicious looking girl that had entered his restaurant with an enthusiastic familiarity. His welcoming demeanour turned suddenly serious as he bowed at them, smiled at Yulia and shook Anatol’s hand. “I am very pleased to see you, both of you, but as always especially you Miss Jelic. I hope you will be enjoying your evening here with us and that you will also enjoy our food.”

“Thank you. I’m sure we will.” Anatol replied, and then waited until Mr Han had disappeared back into the restaurant before speaking to Yulia again.

“What was all that about? Does he own this place?”

Yulia smiled. “That was Mr Han. He is the owner and he is so cool! I know him, I use this restaurant quite a lot,” once again the girl smiled with a demure glance through her lashes towards her male dinner companion, “… for takeaways.”

Yulia turned around on her seat to face her date, and crossed her legs. In a mini dress like the one she was wearing; the effect was extremely … stimulating. Anatol tried to avert his gaze from her well-toned thighs and supple but delicate calf muscles, but ended up simply staring at her cleavage. Yulia noticed and tilted her head downwards, once more exuding a modesty that her dress did not suggest she had, her eyelashes fluttered once more.

“So, have you got a wife or a girlfriend, back at home Anatol?”

“Me? No, no most definitely not.”

“Why not?” Yulia pursued the line of questioning with vigour.

“Too busy. What about you, Yulia? Boyfriend?”

She actually blushed. “No. No boyfriend. Too much work, too many coffee shifts,” she laughed kind of nervously, and then leaned forward so that her mouth was about six inches from his ear and she whispered …

“So, maybe, if this is a date for us, you can put your hand on my leg … but only if you like.”

Anatol almost laughed, about the same time as he wondered which planet she was from.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

With a somewhat hesitant movement he rested his right hand on her thigh, about six inches up from her knee. Her skin was soft, and goose-pimpled as soon as he touched it. Yulia wriggled with pleasure and took a sip from her cocktail.

“This is now what I call a proper date,” she said, “Sipping cocktails while a good-looking guy has his hand on my leg. Say things to me like you would normally say to a girl when you were on a date.” She giggled. The delightful sound made him stiffen.

This time, he could not prevent himself from laughing. “Let me think.” Anatol looked into her eyes with mock sincerity. “Yulia, you are almost certainly the most beautiful woman in this bar.”

This got a delicious laugh from her and she looked down at her chest, before looking up again so that he could see her blushing. He already liked her ... a lot. She was so damned cute!

“That’s no good!” She said with mock indignation. “We are the only people in this bar. What sort of love-talk is that?”

He knew that she didn’t really need compliments. He was right.

“Is it always this quiet here?” he said by way of reply.

‘It is very quiet this evening, almost just the two of …”

Before she can finish his sentence, Mr Han appeared again from somewhere.

“Your table is ready. Please come with me, and I hope you will have a delightful evening, the both of you.”

Finishing their drink, they followed Mr Han into the dining area, with Anatol resting his hand in the small of Yulia’s back. As well as the lace frontage, there was a long zip at the back of her dress which he visualised slowly pulling down. The thought stiffened him even more.


To Be Continued …

 

[Fossy]

Swallow’s Nest (4)

Evening at the Momiji Restaurant continues


The restaurant area was bigger than it first seemed and, like the bar, it is slick and modern, with subtle backlighting on the walls and ceiling. The only concession to Asian culture was a row of three big red ceramic pots next to one of the walls, each with a different picture etched in white. Inside each of the pots was a scattering of tall, dried, black bamboo canes. There was a large aquarium at the back of the room containing a dazzling variety of multi-coloured fish.

As they moved from the bar Yulia noticed how Anatol could not keep his eyes averted from the swell of her unfettered breasts. She smiled to herself.



Mr Han directed them to a half circle booth set for two on the right-hand side of the room. They sat opposite each other … the curved sofa seat was in black leather and smelled new. A smiling waiter materialised and handed them the wine menu. Yulia took a quick look and pointed to a twenty-pound bottle of White Zinfandel.

“Is this nice?” Anatol asked.

“Better than what we would get in Belarus …” she grinned.

They took a look at the food menu. Anatol ordered the appetisers for them both. Yulia let him without objection, knowing that was the Belarusian way. He ordered Pork stuffed snail shells with lemongrass and mushroom and chili corn cakes on one plate and chrysanthemum soup buns stuffed with thick crab soup, sprinkled with crystal sugar and powdered star anise on the other. All to share.

“And that’s just the starter Anatol?” She laughed, seemingly relaxed.

“You just wait. I’ve also ordered two main courses, but we can split them between us, so we can both try a little bit of everything.”

Yulia nodded, “Of course Anatol … It is what lovers do on a date," she looked up, her eyes gazing wide at him through the curtain of her long blonde hair.

There was a pause between them before he spoke again. “Will we be lovers Yulia?”

“I think we are already lovers, Anatol,” Yulia replied, allowing her gaze to drop. “As my grandmother used to say – it is in the stars … So, what have you ordered for our main course?”

“Steamed whole sea bass with siu haau sauce and sliced sea cucumber. Also goose with ginger and black fungus with four spice. There will be bowls of rice, three types of noodle and various vegetable dishes. It will be too much for the both of us, but that is part of the fun isn’t it Yulia, when lovers dine out together,” he grinned joining in with her teasing theme, feeling like this already had the makings to become one of the best nights of his life!

“I can’t wait.” She responded provocatively while chewing on her bottom lip.

The wine arrived and the waiter poured them a glass each.

Now to work – she thought to herself.

“So, my new lover, you know that I am coffee girl, what exactly is it that you are doing over here in America?”

There is a brief pause before he answered, but it’s enough to tell Yulia’s trained mind that he has just checked himself from speaking too openly.

He smiled knowingly but with more than a hint suggesting that he can’t really say too much. However, sensing his reticence, Yulia fiddled with the lace fastening on her dress, loosening it a little more and ensuring that at the same time her actions had the same effect on his tongue.

“I … I am here on Government business, and that really is all I can say.” He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. Yulia leaned into the table, her ample cleavage spilling over just a little more.

“You mean you’re like a spy or something, that is so cool! And very hot.” She moved her foot up the length of his calf, and watched as he looked at her, eyes wide.

“Well, no, not exactly … more like an official from the Foreign Affairs Department.”

There! She had her first piece of information about him. Time for more distraction.


To Be Continued …

 

[old slave]

Time for more distraction.

And you're distracting us, beautifully Fossy, with just enough background information about the restaurant, meal etc. I must say stuffed snail shells is totally new to me, but then so is Yulia's dress..................

 

[Hugin&Munin]

Evening at the Momiji Restaurant continues

So I've never eaten snail shells stuffed with pork either, but Escargots romains are delicious. The story is interesting, hopefully it continues as well.

 

[Fossy]

Swallow’s Nest (5)


Further Distraction at the Momiji Restaurant …


“You like this dress, Anatol?”

“It looks great. I still don’t believe you’re not a model,” he replied. Yulia laughed and waved both hands at her chest.

“You don’t think it’s too much as I’m not wearing a bra? This is dress where bra would not work. It would look ridiculous, I think. I looked at myself in the mirror for an age before I came out. Maybe it was too much, too impudent. I wasn’t sure if I was showing too much of my breasts. But then I decided it was OK. And anyway, I wanted to look sexy for you as we were going on a date.”

‘You look more than just sexy Yulia …” he paused and just looked at her face. He realised that he could quite easily spend the rest of the night just staring at her beauty. But then he added, “… and you speak excellent English. Almost completely accent-less. Have you been over here for long?”

Yulia smiled. “Maybe a few months. But I guess I learn quickly. I can learn most things very quickly,” She purred leaning into the table. Anatol was sweating now.

“Can I ask you something Anatol? Do you think my breasts are too big?”



If it was possible to become even more flustered, then he just did. “Too big. No, not at all …” His gaze now stared at her chest, this time with an excuse. “… they are just perfect.” He felt his throat drying.

“Size shouldn’t be important,” She said, continuing this very provocative theme, “Mine are maybe a little too big, but they’re a good shape. They are a sexy shape. I know they are.” He needed a drink, and gulped at his Zinfandel. The starters arrived and they ate in silence for a few minutes. The food was delicious.

The main waiter placed the sea bass and goose at the centre of the table, while his colleague arranged the auxiliary dishes around it. Yulia poured the last of the wine and it was instantly replaced with another bottle in a fresh ice bucket.

She kept looking up at Anatol and smiling as she filled her plate. ‘Is she having a good time with me’ Anatol thought to himself, ‘I so hope so.’ It was certainly one of the most delicious meals he had ever eaten, and whilst he continued to ogle her breasts, he began to wonder what it would like to stroke her skin. Having so recently had a very dry throat, his mouth now began to water.

Yulia knew where he was looking and smiled to herself, closing her eyes briefly, as if giving him permission to stare for a little longer, which he unashamedly proceeded to do.

They sit back and drink more wine while the waiters cleared away their plates.

“Do you want to have dessert?” Yulia said.

Anatol was full, but in truth his mind was already on other things.

“I’m fine. Maybe another time.” ‘

“So, you have busy day tomorrow?” Yulia asked, before adding coyly. “I have work, never any time to myself, but tonight I am just for you.” Once again, her foot ran up the back of his leg, and she saw him shudder. Yulia needed to know his schedule if her plan was to succeed.

He sighed, “I have meeting at ten o’clock in the morning.”

“Where and who with?” She asked, deliberately appearing too keen and intrusive. “Oh, I’m sorry Anatol, sometimes I can’t help my nature. I just love getting to know you better, but I know you are a secret spy, and have big, important job. Please … I’m sorry.” She looked away momentarily.

“It’s fine Yulia. And I’m not a spy.” He paused and then added, “… I am meeting two White House Officials at Willard’s Hotel.”

“White House people! Oh my, you are important man, make me feel like my job is so small.”

Once again Anatol found himself wondering why Yulia wasn’t a model, earning a fortune all over the world.

“That is all very cool,” she said in quiet tones, “… but can we stop talking business and continue our date, now?” Yulia changes the mood again.

“Of course.” He was only too keen for that.

“Come on.” She pats the sofa seat. “Come and sit next to me.”

He slid around the seat until he was sitting right next to her. She smiled at him. “Because we’re on a date, you can maybe put your hand on my leg again. But only if you want to.”

Did he ever! In seconds Anatol had complied. Yulia shivered to order as he relished the warmth of her bare flesh to his touch. A grinning waiter pulled the table out to give them more space and then he cleared the meal debris away. Mr Han reappeared and asked if they would like anything else.

“Desserts maybe? Coffee? Liqueurs?” Yulia thanked him and ordered two brandies.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Anatol grinned.

“Would it be problem if I was?” Yulia purred in response. Once the drinks are delivered, Yulia called Mr Han to come closer so that she could whisper into his ear. A few seconds later he bowed, scraped and took his leave.

“What did you say to him?” Anatol quizzed.

“I told him that we needed to be left alone, that we were on a date. You can rub my leg higher now that we’re alone,” Yulia smirked.

“Thank you. I’ve been waiting to do that all evening.”

As Yulia placed one of her hands behind his neck she knew then that she had her man. It looked for all intents and purposes as if she is about to kiss him, but at the last moment, with her lips just inches away from his, she ran a white painted fingernail gently down the side of his face.

It’s a heady experience for Anatol, being so close to that perfume compounded by her beauty. Her touch continued down his right bicep and she gives it a slight squeeze.

“You are strong guy, I think. I like it when a guy has muscles like this. Not too big. I hate bodybuilder guys. You’re more like some sort of athlete. What is your sport, I wonder?”

He says nothing, he cannot, he is transfixed.

Very gently, she moved her fingers around the curve of his chin. “You have very nice face, Anatol. Very good-looking. Women are attracted to you. Very attracted. Attracted despite themselves.” She touched a finger to his lips, and looked straight into his eyes. Yulia adjusted her position slightly, so that she could place both of her hands on his face, then she exhaled slowly and took a hold on the back of his neck once more. This time her mouth closes upon his; small, intense kisses, her tongue flicking softly in and out. His hand is still stroking her thigh, and feeling fuelled by desire he slid it higher up. Yulia pushed herself towards him, opened her legs wide, closed her eyes and groaned.


To Be Continued …

 

[Fossy]

Swallow’s Nest (6)


Closure …


He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back against the seat. “Where did the staff go Yulia?”

“They are still here, but they will not come to our booth,” she gasped. “Do you not find this exciting? Do you think I am bad girl now?”

She picked up his brandy and placed it against his lips so that he can drink.

“I don’t think you’re a bad girl at all, Yulia.” But even as he says this Anatol can feel his heart thumping in his chest.

“Oh, but I am. Come with me back to my apartment and I will tell you how bad I am. I will show you, then you can punish me.”

“What? … Punish you?”

“Would you like to do that Anatol?”

He would like to do it, he would like to do it very, very much!


Yulia’s Apartment, The Aspen Block, 4th Street NW, Washington, DC, - 10:30pm


Yulia’s apartment was nice, of a size that befits a Barista’s wage, but nice nonetheless. However, it is not the size of her home that is uppermost in Anatol’s mind as she took his hand and guided him out of the living room and into her bedroom.

He was fit to burst. His stomach ached, is cock was swollen and he could hardly believe his luck! As they walked the short hallway between the rooms, he didn’t notice the one door that was shut tight. He didn’t actually care!

Yulia dropped his hand and turned to face him. She almost had him where she wanted him, this Belarusian official … almost, but not quite. She turned to face him, her arms wound around his neck, her body pressed against his.

“I’m a bad girl, Anatol. I’ve done very bad things. Do you mind?”

“I don’t mind.” He said confused as to whether this was a role play or not.

“You’re a cool guy, a very nice guy, but as we’re on a date, do you think that you might take off my dress? But I must warn you about something.”

“What’s that?” He managed to say with some difficulty through the dryness of his throat.

Yulia looked down as she blushed. “I might not be wearing anything underneath it.”



“I’ll take my chances with that if you don’t mind,” he almost gasped back, hardly able to wait before unwrapping his prize.

“I like to be naked in front of a guy who’s fully dressed. It makes me feel powerful and submissive at the same time. Does that make sense to you Mister Spy?”

“I understand, but like I already said, I’m not a Spy.”

Yulia nodded and smirked, before purring breathlessly, “I’m so bad, Anatol. Sometimes I am ashamed of the things I’ve done. I wake in the night …” She looked up at him, but didn’t meet his gaze. “I might have to be punished. I want to be punished. I need to be punished. Do you understand? I know you will do it. I know the sort of man you are.”

Her eyes were shining as her fingers found the fastenings at the front of her dress and she pulled the sides apart as slowly as she could. Yulia closed her eyes and licked her lips, then shivered as the dress fell to the floor. She moved closer to him allowing Anatol to place his hands on her hips, then he just watched as her body responded.

She was just as he imagined. Smooth all over and sinuous. She moved herself rhythmically against him, almost as if he wasn’t there, panting softly, lost in the sensations she was giving to herself.

“So, what are you then, my big tough dominant man?” Yulia whispered this with her eyes still closed.

“Huh?”

“Tell me,” She maintained her gyrations while she spoke, “… It turns me on to hear about your work, how important it is for our country …”

Warning bells, red flags and flashing lights should have been going off in his head, but Anatol was lost in the moment, and Yulia knew it.

“Tell me,” she moved her lips to his ear and sensed him shiver as her breath flowed over his skin.

“I … we … are … ohhhhh Yulia …”

“Tell me,” she kissed his neck.

“… we are here to conclude new energy deal with the White House,” he gasped.

“So, we will not need those awful Russians anymore Anatol, is that it?”

“Y … Yes …” As her fingertips fluttered over his groin he had lost complete control of anything that came out of his mouth.

“You are so clever, it makes me very wet. I hope nothing happens to spoil those important talks,” Yulia sighed.

He started to run a hand over her flat, muscled stomach, but Yulia turned away from him and walked over to the wall. he listened to the click of her heels, which were the thing that she still wore on her glorious body. He could see the faint traces of straight-line scars across her back and buttocks. She reached down to her left and without looking slid a drawer smoothly open. Still without averting her gaze from the mint blue painted plaster in front of her, Yulia took out a dark brown bamboo cane. With a gasp of anticipation, she ran her hand down its length, whipped it through the air and returned to Anatol. Her eyes met his as she handed him the cane.

“I’m not made from porcelain Anatol. So, beat me hard and believe me, I will make it worth your while afterwards.”

She turned her back on him once more, flicked her hair over her shoulder and pressed her hands flat against the mint green wall.



Her body was tense and she was trembling … just a little.

“Do it … Now.”


Costa Coffee, F Street, Washington USA


“Yulia, are you actually going to do any work today, or what?” The quiet assertion in her Manager’s voice was enough to take Yulia out of her daytime reverie. She had been thinking about Anatol Radkov. She had liked him, but she knew the job that she was here to do, and what needed to be done had to be done.

“Coming … Sorry,” she beamed a disarming smile at him. But even now, as she picked up the two Latte’s, Yulia was thinking about the way he had laid the bamboo cane across her bare bottom. How she had cried out and begged him to strike her harder, and how he had enthusiastically fucked her, almost all night, afterwards …

Yes, she had liked him, and sometimes the job made her feel sad.

“Your drinks, Sir,” she smiled down at the customer whose drinks she had just delivered. In turn he looked at her, well more like he stared at her breasts. But Yulia was used to that, she knew that she had killer breasts … in her line of work they were a weapon. As she turned, Yulia knew that his eyes would be on her ass, and she smirked to herself.

Fleetingly, her mind’s eye recalled the feel of the rope around her wrists, the spread of her legs, the rub of the thick bamboo in between her labia … her response to being submissive was genuine, it was something she truly adored, and Anatol’s performance as her Dominant had been perfect.

Poor Anatol.

The guys who had been stationed in her second bedroom, the room with the closed door, had made their recordings and left quietly whilst she had kept her lover busy. They had had heard the Belarusian Official describe how he hoped that the meeting he had planned would pave the way for an even more productive relationship with America, and how it would hopefully marginalise those ‘Russian bastards’ who were still all ‘Commies at heart’.

Yulia stopped and looked up at the TV perched high at the back of the Coffee bar. It was CNN.

“Talks between the Belarusian Government and the White House have broken down when the planned historic meeting between the two countries was cancelled at the last minute. It is further reported that the Official Party from the small European nation had left the United States without their formally appointed Official Anatol Radkov, who, it is alleged, seems to have disappeared …”

Yulia smiled to herself. Did Anatol decide to defect? Was he harmed in any way? Was he even still alive? No one would ever know because no one would ever find him.

FIN

​

I hope you enjoyed the inaugural adventure of Agent Ekaterina Novikova aka Yulia Jelic. Another tale from her escapades will be serialised here from Monday, so join us then to enjoy "A Friendly Hell".

​

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

the swell of her unfettered breasts.

Wonderful phrase!

twenty-pound bottle of White Zinfandel.

God, that's a big bottle! I'm used to most wine bottles being 3 lbs, 5 oz. Are we talking 5 liters here? Quite an evening ahead

“Of course Anatol … It is what lovers do on a date," she looked up, her eyes gazing wide at him through the curtain of her long hair.

Lord! Has @Barbaria1 snuck in here?

Sorry to run so far behind. However, I am enjoying it immensely.

 

[Barbaria1]

Lord! Has @Barbaria1 snuck in here?

What??? I never sneak anywhere.

 

[Fossy]

Wonderful phrase!

God, that's a big bottle! I'm used to most wine bottles being 3 lbs, 5 oz. Are we talking 5 liters here? Quite an evening ahead

Lord! Has @Barbaria1 snuck in here?

Sorry to run so far behind. However, I am enjoying it immensely.

Good spot PrPr - should be $ not £ ... damn what-a-mistaka-to make!

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

I must apologize for so many long comments. I don't want to highjack the thread, but this post was extraordinary in the skillfulness of the writer!

“You don’t think it’s too much as I’m not wearing a bra?

And how would 99 men out of 100 answer that! Even though we already know that, it still sparks some action in my loins.

Anatol was sweating now.

Well, YEAH! So are we all!

Do you think my breasts are too big?”

Another hot phrase to get the reader aroused and hooked. Also, a question without the minefields of "Does my butt look big in this dress?"

Size shouldn’t be important

All women say that. Usually to men much less endowed than me.

It was certainly one of the most delicious meals he had ever eaten, and whilst he continued to ogle her breasts, he began to wonder what it would like to stroke her skin.

Having nibbled on the food, now he wants to nipple on her tits? Good Boy!

“Of course.” He was only too keen for that.

Duh!!!

 

[Fossy]

Friends, we are told, are good things ... but sometimes they can be HELL!

A Friendly Hell (1)


Embassy of the Russian Federation, 2650 Wisconsin Avenue, Washington DC


“Why, Ekaterina,” Sergei Tretyakov held his beautiful Agent’s hands to draw her forward for a kiss on the cheek, “How very pretty you look, the United States certainly agrees with you. As for that red sweater …”



“Thank you, Comrade Colonel.” Agent Novikova felt a little uneasy at the way the Colonel was ogling her body. She knew that her tight red top, which exposed her shoulders, was provocative, that was the intention, to help her grasp any upper hand that was there to be retained, it was what she had been trained to do, but the way he looked at her …

Kat had been called to the Embassy to meet with her superior on his review visit from Moscow. She assumed he wanted to check on her, see how she was and if she needed anything other than what she already had … she could not have been more wrong!

“Sit down, please.” Tretyakov returned behind the desk. “In fact, it seems to agree with you so much that you have forgotten our existence.”

For no specific reason Ekaterina felt a twinge of something a little sickening in her stomach. “How could I ever do that, Comrade Colonel? It has taken time for me to set things up, and also there have been just a few problems. However, …” she hurried on, watching his expression, “… it is all in place now. In fact, I have brought some photographs with me."

She opened her purse. Tretyakov took a look at the pictures and frowned. “These are sensitive images Agent?” He stated.

“Yes. The Senator brought them home to read, and then he locked them in his safe.”

“And you have got to know him well enough to have access?”

“I have obtained the combination, yes,” Ekaterina said proudly, and took out the small card upon which the images were stored.

“And you’ve brought that, and the printed pictures, with you, here, in your purse, just like that. Do you realise what would have happened had you been stopped and searched?”

“With respect, Comrade Colonel, no one is going to stop and search a young blonde coffee house waitress who is simply minding her own business …”, then, without thinking, Kat added, “They do not do that sort of thing over here.

“What they do, or do not do, in the United States is not relevant. The Motherland has spent a great deal of time, and money, making you what you are. Tell me what was the most important thing you were taught at the Institute?”

Ekaterina drew a deep breath. “To obey any order immediately and without question.”

Tretyakov frowned and then looked up at his young Agent. “That also means following procedural rules to the letter, as I remember explaining to you before you began this assignment. It is neither your duty nor your prerogative to change the rules to please yourself. Why did you not use our procedures to get these photographs to me, as you have been instructed to do?”

Ekaterina licked her lips; this was the first time she had encountered any hostility from her employers since leaving the training school. “I knew I was coming here personally, to meet with you Comrade Colonel.”

Tretyakov gazed at her for several seconds, then nodded. “You said you have had problems?”

The girl sighed with relief; the crisis seemed to be over. “It’s to do with the man Kyle O’Dell. I spoke to you of him in my reports”

“So, you did. And?”

Ekaterina outlined what had happened on the subway.

“And you still think he is after you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You flatter yourself Agent. As a matter of fact, he is travelling to Moscow at this very moment.”

“You mean he is …”

“Working for the Motherland too? Yes, he is …”

Ekaterina flushed. “Yet you did not tell me …”

“… Agent Novikova, you do not know everything and it must stay that way both for your own good and the good of the Motherland. O’Dell cannot be tampered with. And so, please take note, he is not after you … he is simply following orders, our orders, and you will not get in his way again. Do you understand Agent?”

Ekaterina swallowed at the implied threat.

“So, all that we really have to consider today, Agent Novikova,” Tretyakov said genially, “… is your ignoring of regulations and your undisciplined behaviour.”

“I …” She began, but Tretyakov raised a finger.

“I know you are going to say that no harm has been done. This time. But put yourself in the position of a Comrade General, who issues his plans for a campaign and then discovers that one of his subordinates has completely ignored those plans and followed his or her own ideas, and then claim that they should not be punished because the Campaign was not lost. That subordinate would be shot, would she not?”

Ekaterina swallowed, the subject in his example was, latterly, referred to as a ‘she’, surely he couldn’t mean …

“I understand, Comrade Colonel. It will not happen again.”

“It must not happen again Agent Novikova. It cannot happen again. Perhaps you have forgotten that when you agreed to work for us …”

Ekaterina stared at him, afraid now to even move her lips.

“… You were given a set of rules that had to be obeyed, and informed of the consequences if any of those rules were disobeyed in the slightest degree.”

She gasped as his intentions became more clear. At the training camp she had carefully avoided breaking any rules, save for perhaps over-reacting to one Comrade Officer’s advances. Now this situation had to be retrieved, and immediately, otherwise ...


To Be Continued …

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

Yulia looked down as she blushed. “I might not be wearing anything underneath it.”

Blushed? Seriously? I must say I like a girl who cums prepared.

Anatol was lost in the moment,

Oh, come on now! Do you really think a man could be so aroused as to lose all judgment and self-control? Never happens! Fake News!

So, beat me hard and believe me, I will make it worth your while afterwards.”

A true gentlemen would, of course, respect a lady's desires.

Fun Story. Thank you so much.

 

[Fossy]

Blushed? Seriously? I must say I like a girl who cums prepared.

Oh, come on now! Do you really think a man could be so aroused as to lose all judgment and self-control? Never happens! Fake News!

A true gentlemen would, of course, respect a lady's desires.

Fun Story. Thank you so much.

Thank you PrPr always a labour of love!

 

[Fossy]

A Friendly Hell (2)


Embassy of the Russian Federation, 2650 Wisconsin Avenue, Washington DC


“I understand what you are saying, Comrade Colonel. And I have promised that it will not happen again. I think my judgement was distorted because I recently came into possession of a most important piece of news, which I felt it was necessary to tell you personally.”

“What news?”

“It is that the recent protests in Duma over the arrest of the Anti-corruption reporter were organised and funded from over here in Washington.”

Tretyakov stared at her for several seconds. “And you did not think to mention this in your last report Agent Novikova?”



“But that was last week and I needed to be certain. The Americans did not believe what President Xyulo - wanted by criminal international court in The Hague told them about his diplomatic intentions following the suspicions surrounding the disappearance of Anatol Radkov, the Belarusian attaché, and so … now, feel betrayed.” (See Swallow’s Nest).

“But it was you who arranged the ‘disappearance’ of Radkov. Are you calling the President a liar Agent Novikova?”

“Of course I am not, Comrade Colonel. I am reporting what the Americans are saying, as you are employing me to do.”

Tretyakov paused in ponderous silence once again, before speaking. “And I say again, you are only telling me this now?”

“I only knew for sure two days ago, Comrade Colonel. And as, by then, as I have said already, I knew I was meeting you in any event, and so I thought it best to bring the news myself, with everything else I had for you.”

“You thought it best!” Tretyakov scoffed. “When I wish you to think about ‘what is best’ Novikova, I will inform you. I think being given so much responsibility has gone to your head. You need to remember that being over here is a façade, a cover story. You are employed by the Motherland.”

“I have said I will not forget that again, sir.” Ekaterina could not prevent her voice from rising an octave as she realized that she might have dug herself into a deeper hole than the one she had previously been in.

“Oh, I intend to make sure of that, Ekaterina.” Reaching forward across the shining walnut surface of the office desk, he pressed the intercom.

“Is Comrade Captain Andreytov in the building?”

“Yes, Comrade Colonel sir,” the woman’s voice replied and then added, “He is with Comrade General Belshev.”

Elena Belshev was a Major-General in the Russian Armed Forces, and she was Tretykov’s superior. The Comrade General had accompanied Colonel Tretykov on his visit to Washington.

“Excellent. Ask them both to come in here, please, if they would be so kind.”

Ekaterina drew a deep breath, before letting the disconcertion manifest in her voice. “What … I mean …”

“You see, Ekaterina, when a young girl wishes to remember something, she maybe ties a knot in her handkerchief, does she not?”

I make a note in my mobile phone, Ekaterina reflected on the Colonel’s outdated reference … but now was not the time for whimsical reflections.

“So, we are going to tie such a knot in your brain, to make sure that you never again forget who you are working for, and the rules you have to follow.”

Ekaterina gasped, she knew only too well how punishment could be inflicted by targeting someone close, her sister, her mother ... now she really did feel sick.

“Not my family … please Comrade Colonel” Did it sound like she was begging?

“Ah, yes, your family. That is an interesting point Agent Novikova. Would you rather your family was punished for your errors? Or would you prefer to suffer that punishment yourself?”

Another deep breath. But she still had a weapon left. “I would prefer you to punish me.”

“Oh, good. I had intended to do that anyway, but it makes it so much simpler if you are in agreement.”

Ekaterina moistened her lips, as they were drying rapidly, she needed to think fast.

“There are people expecting me back at work tomorrow, we mustn’t alarm them, must we? I must be able to return …”

Tretykov smiled. “I would expect you to go back, Ekaterina, but you will be a wiser and more compliant girl. Come.”

The doors to the office were opened, and the two officers came in. Both wore uniform, and both stood straight in a very military style manner.

“General Belshev, you remember Ekaterina Novikova?”

The commanding officer looked at Ekaterina. “I do, Comrade Colonel. She is looking well.”

“And, we don’t want to interfere with that, do we?” Tretykov interjected, “… Her looks are one of the Motherland’s most potent weapons. However, she also seems to have forgotten who and what she really is, and must be reminded of this.”

Ekaterina closed her eyes and whimpered just a little as the Colonel now looked across at Captain Andreytov. “Comrade Captain, I would like you to remind the Agent of her primary duty and responsibilities.”

“Of course, Comrade Colonel. I shall enjoy doing so.”


To Be Continued …

 

[Kathy]

A Friendly Hell (2)


Embassy of the Russian Federation, 2650 Wisconsin Avenue, Washington DC


“I understand what you are saying, Comrade Colonel. And I have promised that it will not happen again. I think my judgement was distorted because I recently came into possession of a most important piece of news, which I felt it was necessary to tell you personally.”

“What news?”

“It is that the recent protests in Duma over the arrest of the Anti-corruption reporter were organised and funded from over here in Washington.”

Tretyakov stared at her for several seconds. “And you did not think to mention this in your last report Agent Novikova?”

View attachment 954704

“But that was last week and I needed to be certain. The Americans did not believe what President Xyulo - wanted by criminal international court in The Hague told them about his diplomatic intentions following the suspicions surrounding the disappearance of Anatol Radkov, the Belarusian attaché, and so … now, feel betrayed.” (See Swallow’s Nest).

“But it was you who arranged the ‘disappearance’ of Radkov. Are you calling the President a liar Agent Novikova?”

“Of course I am not, Comrade Colonel. I am reporting what the Americans are saying, as you are employing me to do.”

Tretyakov paused in ponderous silence once again, before speaking. “And I say again, you are only telling me this now?”

“I only knew for sure two days ago, Comrade Colonel. And as, by then, as I have said already, I knew I was meeting you in any event, and so I thought it best to bring the news myself, with everything else I had for you.”

“You thought it best!” Tretyakov scoffed. “When I wish you to think about ‘what is best’ Novikova, I will inform you. I think being given so much responsibility has gone to your head. You need to remember that being over here is a façade, a cover story. You are employed by the Motherland.”

“I have said I will not forget that again, sir.” Ekaterina could not prevent her voice from rising an octave as she realized that she might have dug herself into a deeper hole than the one she had previously been in.

“Oh, I intend to make sure of that, Ekaterina.” Reaching forward across the shining walnut surface of the office desk, he pressed the intercom.

“Is Comrade Captain Andreytov in the building?”

“Yes, Comrade Colonel sir,” the woman’s voice replied and then added, “He is with Comrade General Belshev.”

Elena Belshev was a Major-General in the Russian Armed Forces, and she was Tretykov’s superior. The Comrade General had accompanied Colonel Tretykov on his visit to Washington.

“Excellent. Ask them both to come in here, please, if they would be so kind.”

Ekaterina drew a deep breath, before letting the disconcertion manifest in her voice. “What … I mean …”

“You see, Ekaterina, when a young girl wishes to remember something, she maybe ties a knot in her handkerchief, does she not?”

I make a note in my mobile phone, Ekaterina reflected on the Colonel’s outdated reference … but now was not the time for whimsical reflections.

“So, we are going to tie such a knot in your brain, to make sure that you never again forget who you are working for, and the rules you have to follow.”

Ekaterina gasped, she knew only too well how punishment could be inflicted by targeting someone close, her sister, her mother ... now she really did feel sick.

“Not my family … please Comrade Colonel” Did it sound like she was begging?

“Ah, yes, your family. That is an interesting point Agent Novikova. Would you rather your family was punished for your errors? Or would you prefer to suffer that punishment yourself?”

Another deep breath. But she still had a weapon left. “I would prefer you to punish me.”

“Oh, good. I had intended to do that anyway, but it makes it so much simpler if you are in agreement.”

Ekaterina moistened her lips, as they were drying rapidly, she needed to think fast.

“There are people expecting me back at work tomorrow, we mustn’t alarm them, must we? I must be able to return …”

Tretykov smiled. “I would expect you to go back, Ekaterina, but you will be a wiser and more compliant girl. Come.”

The doors to the office were opened, and the two officers came in. Both wore uniform, and both stood straight in a very military style manner.

“General Belshev, you remember Ekaterina Novikova?”

The commanding officer looked at Ekaterina. “I do, Comrade Colonel. She is looking well.”

“And, we don’t want to interfere with that, do we?” Tretykov interjected, “… Her looks are one of the Motherland’s most potent weapons. However, she also seems to have forgotten who and what she really is, and must be reminded of this.”

Ekaterina closed her eyes and whimpered just a little as the Colonel now looked across at Captain Andreytov. “Comrade Captain, I would like you to remind the Agent of her primary duty and responsibilities.”

“Of course, Comrade Colonel. I shall enjoy doing so.”


To Be Continued …

Well written chapter

 

[Fossy]

Well written chapter

Thank you Kathy

 

[Kathy]

Thank you Kathy

Your welcome

 

[Fossy]

A Friendly Hell (3)


Embassy of the Russian Federation, 2650 Wisconsin Avenue, Washington DC


Ekaterina tried to catch his eye; this man had almost been a friend when last she had seen him in Moscow before she left for Washington.

“May I ask exactly what you have in mind, Comrade Colonel?” Comrade Captain Andreytov enquired.

“She is to be punished for disobeying orders,” Tretyakov replied. “It is neither necessary nor desirable for you to know what those orders were. However, it is essential, as I have said, that she should suffer no permanent injury, or that any mark be left on her body that will not fade within forty-eight hours. For this reason, she should be caned, not whipped, and the blows should be strictly on her buttocks.”

Ekaterina’s head jerked. My God! she thought. He is talking about me! She remembered seeing colleagues at training school being punished for failure and screaming for mercy. Am I going to scream for mercy? Never. But she could not stop herself saying, in a voice she hardly recognized as her own, “I have done everything you required of me, Comrade Colonel. I have committed no …”

Tretyakov laid his finger on his lips. “Do not reveal your secrets to anyone, Ekaterina. You will remain silent. The betrayal of State secrets is a very serious breach of rules, and your punishment will be at least doubled.”

Ekaterina found that she was gasping for breath.

“Apart from the caning, Comrade Colonel,” Captain Andreytov said, “… what else is to be done to her?”

“Anything you like, within the parameters I have outlined. Your business is to make her feel pain to the extent that she will never wish to suffer such a punishment again. What did you have in mind, Comrade Captain?”

“Is he going to rape me,” Ekaterina whispered quietly, as her downcast eyes gazed at the carpeted floor.

Tretyakov looked at Andreytov, who grinned and replied, “Well, sir, it would seem a pity to …”

The Colonel returned his smiled, and finished off the Captain’s sentence “… Pass up the opportunity to have sex with a beautiful woman? I have said that you may do what you wish, as long as she finds it unpleasant and is not marked.”

These people are talking about me, Ekaterina thought again. And it is going to happen! Now she did have an urgent desire to scream. She was entirely at the mercy of this monstrous lout.

But the Captain was still speaking. “I was wondering, sir, if we might use electricity on her?”

“No, Comrade Captain, I do not wish her to be electrocuted. It could kill her, and will almost certainly mark her beautiful body.” ‘

“No, no, sir. The emissions are strictly controlled. But attached to certain selected parts of the body, they will inflict exquisite pain. The technique is often used in interrogation, but of course it can be used for other purposes as well. The important point is that, however severe the pain, no mark is left upon the body.”

Oh my God! Ekaterina thought. Oh, my God! But God could not possibly come to her rescue; she had forsaken God when she had taken this job … spying and killing, if necessary, for the Motherland.

“Okay, we will proceed as you suggest,” Tretyakov said. “Call me when you are ready to commence, and both myself and Comrade General Belshev will come down to observe.”

He turned with a smirk to the beautiful, young Agent. “Off you go, now, Ekaterina. We will talk again later.”


In the Basement at the Embassy of the Russian Federation


“Come along, Agent Novikova,” Comrade Captain Andreytov said kindly. Ekaterina stood up, but her knees gave way and she sat down again.

“You don’t really want to be carried downstairs, do you?” Andreytov asked. Ekaterina held the arms of her chair and pushed herself up. Andreytov was actually holding the door for her. This can’t be happening, she told herself. But it was.

Comrade Captain Andreytov walked beside her on the stairs, holding her arm steady, protecting her from stumbling.

“I thought you were my friend,” Ekaterina muttered.

“We are all your friends here,” Andreytov replied. “That is proven by the fact that you are not to be permanently harmed and that Colonel Tretyakov wishes to give you a second chance.”

“But you intend to torture me first.”

“We intend to punish you, and there can be no punishment without pain.”

They had reached the lower floor. Clerks and secretaries looked at them curiously, and then hastily looked away again. And in front of her was another flight of steps, these also leading downwards, to the basement.

She shuddered; she had been here before, if not in this building. The cell floor at the SVR Institute in Moscow was surprisingly similar, save that there were no barred cells here, merely closed doors, although they all had their own sliding inspection hatch.

But the room at the end of the corridor was different, and again Ekaterina’s knees threatened to give way, so much so that Andreytov’s grip tightened and jerked her upright.

“Listen,” he said in a low voice, “let me give you some advice. Do not attempt to resist these people who will carry out the Comrade Colonel’s orders. Submit to everything without a word. But when they hurt you, forget your pride and scream as loudly as you can. This will please them. But if they feel you are defying them, even in your mind, they will wish to hurt you more than ever.”

“But are you not one of them?” Ekaterina replied quietly, “… Will you not be hurting me as well?”

“Yes, I will be hurting you, and I will enjoy doing so, because it is always enjoyable to hurt a beautiful, wilful woman, but that does not mean I wish you to be destroyed.”

Because you are hoping to have the opportunity to work me over again sometime, Ekaterina thought to herself. Andreytov was holding the door for her again, most politely, but inside the room there waited two more men. Both were large, and wore their shirt sleeves rolled up. They had been looking rather bored, but their eyes brightened at the sight of Ekaterina.

She entered the room, and the heavily padded door clicked shut behind her. She waited, keeping absolutely still, trying to convince herself that this was going to be nothing worse than a visit to the dentist.

“Would you undress, please,” Andreytov asked courteously. Ekaterina looked at the Captain.




To Be Continued …

 

[Fossy]

A Friendly Hell (4)


The Basement of the Russian Federation, Washington DC


“You have made such an effort to impress the Colonel today Agent Novikova, you would not like that lovely skirt or top to be torn, now would you?” Andreytov asked, “… so please, come along, Ekaterina,” Andreytov continued. “You need to take everything off for us. The sooner we get it done the sooner it will be over.”

The two men’s eyes gleamed some more, as did Andreytov’s as he smiled and said simply, “Proceed.”

“You really mean for me to be totally naked?”

“Yes.” Was his unambiguous response.

These men reeked of sexual desire, and even though they were carrying out orders, it was obvious that they clearly intended to enjoy doing so. Ekaterina opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again without speaking; to protest would be a waste of time, and might merely make things worse.

“Do not make them think you are resisting them,” Andreytov had said.

“I will help you.” The Captain’s words were spoken with a smirk.

Shaking her head, “No … thank you,” Ekaterina stepped back and loosened the zipper on the skirt, which, following an unwittingly provocative wiggle of her hips, slipped down her legs to pool at her ankles. She stepped free of it allowing the garment to be picked up by Andreytov. The Captain stood smiling at her, and the beautiful Agent, standing only in her tight red sweater, white panties and matching hold up stockings, knew what was expected of her.



“Panties.”

“Comrade Captain, please …”

“Every lost second increases your punishment Agent Novikova.”

With a whimper she tugged the skimpy white underwear free from her sticky mound, and, after pulling the panties away from her feet, she threw them at her voyeuristic colleague, who simply nodded in response as he caught them.

Without any further unnecessary delay, Ekaterina gripped the red top at either side before pulling upwards.



Her fingers were nimble, and drew a deep breath, knowing that she wore no bra (she had not been expected to be ordered to strip), and that, in addition to her denuded pussy, her naked breasts were now also about to be exposed. She stood momentarily with her arms covering her exposed flesh. A simple nod from the Comrade Captain and her arms were dropped so that her nudity was completely exposed.



With the red sweater pooled around Ekaterina’s ankles, stockings too, all eyes were now very much on her, as she stood naked before them, embarrassed and humiliated.

“I will take care of the garments for you,” Andreytov offered as he collected everything together and folded her clothing neatly. Ekaterina endeavoured not to meet anyone’s eye; she had never felt so vulnerable.

Then the cold of the stone floor struck upwards through her body and she could feel her nipples hardening.

Don’t think, she told herself. Don’t think about anything.

“Now use the toilet,” Andreytov commanded.

Ekaterina looked from him to the open toilet against the far wall in consternation. She had never done that before another person in her life, not her adult life at least.

“We don’t want a mess, do we?” Andreytov asked.

She stood up uncertainly, crossed the floor, and obeyed the command; it actually was very necessary and a considerable relief.



“Now stand against the bar,” Andreytov commanded.

Ekaterina had not noticed the bar before; she had been too busy trying not to look at any of her surroundings. The bar, a rounded steel tube, was positioned to one side of the room, raised horizontally some three feet from the floor upon two other rounded steel tubes. These had grooves into which the parallel bar fitted, and handles by which it could be raised and lowered as required.

She drew a deep breath, then stood up and slowly crossed the floor. Her knees felt weak and she almost fell. This time no one assisted her.



But she had no doubt that if she did fall she would be dragged to her feet, and the thought of them touching her was unbearable. She reached the bar and stood against it; the steel pressed against her thighs.

“Bend over,” Andreytov commanded.

Ekaterina obeyed, bending from the waist, every muscle tensed, because now she knew she was going to be touched, as intimately and indecently as it was possible to imagine. One of the men came into view as he stood in front of her, grasped her right arm, and pulled it down, so that she all but toppled over, prevented from actually falling only by the bar. Then Ekaterina saw the handcuffs attached to a ring in the floor.



He did the same to her left wrist. Before he had finished, she felt other hands on her legs, as they were pulled apart and each ankle in turn attached to another pair of handcuffs.

“Spread her and make her tight,” Andreytov instructed. “She must not be able to move.”

The men cranked the handles, and the bar came up until it fitted into her groin, stretching her away from her wrists and ankles, leaving her both helpless and utterly exposed, buttocks highest.

Andreytov stood in front of her. She could see the bulge in his pants. “If one is allowed to move when being caned,” he said, “one runs the risk of suffering serious harm, or permanent scarring. And we wouldn’t want that, would we? You are such a beautiful creature.”

He reached under Ekaterina’s arms and gently caressed her breasts. “There is no aspect of you that is not superb.” Ekaterina stared at her legs, feeling tears running down her cheeks she watched them drip onto the hard floor.

“You may commence. The cane, remember. Not the whip.” Andreytov’s voice was clear.

“Comrade Captain …” said one of the men.

“What is it?”

“We have our perks.” The man looked at Andreytov as he continued. “It is boring work being confined down here, and there is so seldom anything … shall I say … worth handling.”

They are talking about me as if I were a piece of furniture, Ekaterina thought as she desperately tried to raise her head far enough to catch Andreytov’s eye. And in fact, the commandant did return her desperate gaze, but he merely shrugged in response to the eye contact.

“If that is the custom, I will allow one touch each. Colonel Tretyakov is waiting to be called, so that he and the Comrade General can observe, so be quick, there will be no raping of this Agent today.”

Ekaterina closed her eyes and felt hands on her buttocks. Then other hands passed between her spread legs to close on her groin. Was she supposed to feel grateful … no raping ‘today’, what did that even mean?

Then Andreytov moved to her and Ekaterina felt his hands on her bottom, kneading the flesh, which she tried to keep as tensed as possible … a difficult task when she had been tightened so much as to be standing on tiptoe. Then his fingers opened her, penetrating, working there way inside her slit.

Kat groaned and could not stop herself from begging. “Pl … pl … please Comrade Captain, ohhhhh please noooo …”

But he continued until she was trembling and her thighs wet with signs of her release …

“That will heighten the pain of what we are about to do Agent Novikova,” he spoke in a matter of fact kind of way, as Kat gasped for breath.

With the mauling over, Andreytov picked up the phone on the desk. “Colonel Tretyakov,” he said. Ekaterina felt the hands move, and heard a swishing sound as a cane swing was practiced through the air. She turned her head, and one of the men grinned at her.

“Comrade Colonel?” Andreytov said again, “… We are about to commence the punishment. Very good, sir.” He replaced the receiver.


To Be Continued …

 

[Fossy]

A Friendly Hell (5)


The Basement of the Russian Federation, Washington DC


“They are on their way, but the Comrade Colonel says to continue. It is the electrical treatment he is really interested in. Remember, she is to be struck only there.” He touched Ekaterina’s ass causing the naked, bound Agent to draw a deep breath.

The commandant had said not to attempt to defy them, to scream as loudly as she could. But she wanted to defy them. They could not destroy her. She was Ekaterina Novikova, and she was a girl who had been trained to fight, and to kill, and to survive. Perhaps these morons had forgotten that, or considered her no more than a lump of meat, to be chewed up and then spat out, when they were tired of the taste of her.

But one day, she told herself, one day …

It seemed as if a knife blade had been drawn across her flesh.

Ekaterina gasped, and her mouth sagged open, even as her body drooped, to be held only by the bar pressing into her groin, still stretched taut so that she could not twist. But before she could draw a breath, Kat was struck a second time, making her body stiff once more.

There seemed to be nothing in her lungs, she was choking, or so she thought, but when the third blow came, Kat involuntarily sucked at the air.

At the fourth blow she couldn’t stop a whimper from sounding, and her eyes were burning as the tears started again. Now Ekaterina’s whole body seemed to be in pain, penetrating her brain, puncturing her mind, and she hardly felt the last two blows. But between the strikes, and even above the pounding in her ears, she heard the door opening and closing and realised that Tretyakov and Comrade General Belshev had joined them.

The blows ceased, and Ekaterina hung, panting and gasping, across the bar, feeling her ass cheeks suffuse as the blood rushed into them. The room was rotating about her, but she refused to open her eyes. I did not scream, she told herself. They could not make me scream.

“Is she all right?” Tretyakov asked.

Andreytov stooped beside her, held her wrist and felt her pulse. “She is all right. But perhaps we should wait a few minutes … before …”

“I am a busy man, and the Comrade General is impatient,” Tretyakov pointed out, “So please proceed.”

“Of course, Comrade Colonel.”

Tretyakov was leering at Ekaterina’s firm, peachy ass. “You are sure there will be no permanent marks?”

“None,” Andreytov assured him, ‘That is the beauty of the cane. Those marks look harsh, but will fade within forty-eight hours. She will remember the beating.”

“She will remember what’s coming more,” The General commented enthusiastically.

“Now, Comrades, let me explain.”

Andreytov’s began to detail the electrode procedure, which Ekaterina knew was as much to heighten her fear as it was to explain matters to the superior officers.

“You see this box. It is the generator, which is activated simply by flicking the switch and moving the dial. The further it is turned, the more current is delivered, so that the interrogator can control the strength of the charge according to the mental and physical strength of the subject.”

There was a pause whilst this information was digested.

“Now, these two wires, each ending in a sharp-toothed alligator clip, are attached to whatever part of the subject’s body the interrogator wishes to use. One is negative and the other is positive. The charge will flow from one to the other, causing the severest discomfort to the part of the subject’s body through which it travels. Favourite places are the big toe, on each foot, so that the current passes up one leg, across the groin, and down the other, or the ears, in which case the current passes through the head. But I would not recommend that in this case, if it is your wish that the subject be, shall I say, preserved intact. The current passing through the brain can induce permanent damage.”

A further pause.

“However, there are other useful places. The nipples, for example. This is especially useful for women, who, if you will forgive me, Comrade General, have more … how shall I put it … flesh for the interrogator to play with. But, of course the most efficacious of all are the genitals. One of these clips inserted into the anus, and the other clipped to the male penis can rob a man of any ability to resist further. A woman of course is even more susceptible, as she possesses two orifices, the invasion of which by steel and then electricity is both humiliating and agonising.”

“But you say it does no permanent damage?” Tretyakov asked.

“None at all, Comrade Colonel. We coat the clips in grease, you see, to ease the entry. This in no way interferes with the flow of current. But it does prevent any tissue damage, or even permanent marking. Once the current is switched off, the pain soon subsides. There is continuing discomfort for a few hours, but then that too wears off, and the subject is, we could say, as good as new. Although the memory remains intact, to be sure.”

“Then that is what we wish to see,” Tretyakov said.

“Very good, Comrade Colonel. Now, the first thing to do is pull her swollen lips wide apart, and insert the alligator clips like this.”



Ekaterina screamed.


A Private Upstairs Room at the Embassy of the Russian Federation


She understood very well that she was having a form of mental breakdown.

Ekaterina was still naked, she had received no clothing after they had brought her here, to … recover.

There were so many things to think about; what she was, what she was being required to do not to mention the punishment she had received. She had been assaulted, fingers deep inside her body and of all the things Kat had to consider the most important one was her own health.

She had no idea what this punishment had done to her, to her essentially private persona, and perhaps even to her character.

To have to strip naked in front of those men, and be seen by the Comrade General and ogled by her so-called mentor, Comrade Colonel Tretyakov. To be touched by them, and beaten by them, and then to feel their fingers, followed by those dreadful clips …

She shuddered. Even now that the discomfort had almost entirely faded, she could still feel the clip being closed on her clitoris, still feel fingers deep inside her body, penetrating, lubricating …

She found that she was holding herself tightly, and could not let go. Ekaterina gasped, and shuddered … she was exhausted.

Had she climaxed when they had been torturing her? She couldn’t believe that was possible. But she didn’t know for sure. Perhaps she had given them the pleasure of ripping an unwanted orgasm from her bound and broken body.

So, what sort of girl was going to be sent back out into the big wide world? Someone who would scream in horror when faced with the need or craving to have sex? Or someone who would reveal a voracious appetite, a screaming desire to be satisfied, when she could never be satisfied again?

Ekaterina did not know, just as she did not know whether this frightening mood was to be with her for the rest of her life, or was it merely a temporary result of her ordeal.

Her eyes closed, as a welcome sleep consumed her. She would be back.

FIN.

​

Thank you all for staying with this during this past week. We now know how the Russians responded to Ekaterina's brave efforts on behalf of the Motherland, but what about the Belarusians? Our gorgeous heroine is heading back out into the field, and the Belarusians are more than concerned about the disappearance of their Senior Official. Join me here next week for the serialisation of "Blowback".