The Interpreter - Chapter Two

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Chapter Two – Your Body Is A Weapon

Novogorbovo, Russia – June 1985

Valerie was required to stay in her room and recover for five days following her breast augmentation surgery but it wasn’t really bed rest. She was tended to by Anya, who encouraged Valerie to get up and walk around as soon as the most severe pain passed which wasn’t long and she was visited daily by Yuri Godekin who began to put together the missing pieces of the puzzle as to why she was here.

“Can I see?” Yuri asked, blushing a little with embarrassment.

Valerie lifted the satin chemise that she had chosen as bed-wear and showed Yuri her new breasts. The bruising was fading and they were perfectly shaped, smooth and proportionally perfect for her slim frame. They were B-cup sized, with perfectly round pink areolas and little nubbin nipples.

Yuri was impressed and gently touched one, teasing the nipple until it hardened and then he lifted her left breast and saw the fading incision in the crease.

It was Valerie’s turn to blush.

“They did a good job. The surgeon says that scar will be almost invisible,” Yuri commented as he withdrew his hand and Valerie covered her breasts.

“I can’t say that I’m disappointed but I thought I might have been consulted before my body was subjected to surgery,” Valerie said petulantly.

Yuri leaned into her and for a moment Valerie thought that he was going to kiss her and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that but his face stopped inches from hers and his hand snapped up and gripped her throat.

“Don’t think for an instant that you are some sort of a princess in a play. You are an abomination. An abomination that belongs to the Soviet state! You are a tool to be used against the West. Tools can easily be replaced. In fact you are only here because you are a better tool than the one you replaced. The one I personally disposed of,” Yuri said through gritted teeth.

“Do you understand?” Yuri tightened his grip on her neck and his face was so close that his lips were almost touching hers.

Valerie wasn’t choking. Yuri didn’t want to hurt her; just frighten her. But she was shivering with fear and she remembered the threats made to her by Ivan Petrov in his office and she nodded her head in acquiescence.

“There’s a good girl,” Yuri released the grip on her throat and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

He leaned in and softly kissed her cheek.

“You told the psychiatrist that you thought that you should have been born a woman and now you are a lot closer to achieving that goal curtesy of the Soviet Republic. We can’t do anything about your undercarriage yet and to be truthful we don’t intend to. You are perfect just the way you are Valerie,” Yuri said in a soothing tone.

He was speaking English and so was Anya. Valerie had been told to speak English from now on unless she was told otherwise or was addressed by anyone who only spoke Russian. She was to practice her English skills to perfect them.

“I have brought you some files to study while you recover from your surgery. The first one I want you to read is a dossier regarding Professor Mikhail Blavatsky. He is the man that you will be interpreting for,” Yuri pointed to the stack of files he had placed on the coffee table.

“The rest of the files are profiles of Americans who will be attending the Convention,” Yuri sat on the edge of the bed and straightened his jacket.

“What Convention?” Valerie asked and immediately regretted asking a question after the warning Anya had given her.

Yuri smiled at her and to her surprise he answered her question.

“Our new President has new ideas regarding how our glorious Republic should function. He is intent on expanding our diplomatic and economic relations with the west,” Yuri stroked Valerie’s hand as if she was a small child.

“The Soviet Union is sending a delegation to the United States ahead of a proposed agreement between the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics on exchanges in cultural, technical, and educational fields. Professor Mikhail Blavatsky is heading up the academic contingent and you are to be his interpreter,” Yuri patted her hand.

“But despite Mister Gorbachev’s proposed changes to our political outlook, the KGB is still functioning as usual and will always function as the sword and shield of the Communist Party and such an exceptional opportunity as this series of conferences, meetings and social events must be mined for every piece of intelligence that can be garnered,” Yuri squeezed Valerie’s hand.

“There will be others conducting intelligence gathering and exploiting situations presented to them but they are of no significance to you,” he squeezed Valerie’s hand a little harder.

“You will be doing the most important work of all. You will be using your great beauty and, shall we say, unique physiology, to help some of the American delegation look on the USSR more favourably,” Yuri stopped squeezing and patted Valerie’s hand gently.

“I’m to be a whore? To be a honey trap?” Valerie whispered.

“Better you be a whore working for the KGB than your sister Valentina being forced to fuck Spetsnaz soldiers in a military brothel. Remember the promise Ivan Petrov made you. When this is over we may even consider further, shall we say, corrective surgery, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yuri leaned into Valerie once more.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just study the dosiers for now. The rest will all be explained before you leave,” Yuri smiled at her.

“Even lying here in bed without the aid of makeup you are a beautiful woman Valerie. It would be a shame for such beauty to go to waste,” Yuri leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

Valerie was stunned and she tingled all over as Yuri held the kiss for what seemed like an eternity. Then he broke the kiss and smiled at her and stroked her cheek once more.

He alighted from the bed and walked to the door and stopped and turned to Valerie and smiled.

Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spat on the floor and looked at Valerie with a spiteful sneer and left the room, locking the door behind him.

Valerie silently sobbed for a while and then she regained her composure and got out of bed and reached for the files.

Novogorbovo, Russia – June 1985

Besides working her way through the personnel files, Valerie was educated in other ways. Anya began by giving her makeup and deportment lessons.

“You have reasonably adept makeup skills but your makeup is a little heavy and although suitable for an evening social event, it needs to be toned down for the daytime when you are presenting professionally,” Anya said, standing behind Valerie who was sitting at the vanity.

They spent some time finding the most flattering palette for Valerie’s face for business meetings and conferences, for social events and to compliment her evening wear.

A hairstylist was brought in to cut and style Valerie's hair.

“I love your hair. It is so black and glossy and it compliments your alabaster skin,” the stylist fussed around Valerie’s hair until she finally went to work with a flurry of scissors and combs and brushes.

The stylist cut very little but she straightened Valerie’s hair, gave it a centre part and cut a severe straight fringe across her brows. It was full and glossy and when Valerie applied bright red lipstick to her lips she looked stunning. Her heart-shaped face with its flawless alabaster complexion; her red lips and bright emerald-green eyes framed by the black off-the-shoulder bob were strikingly beautiful.

“Ok, you look gorgeous. Now we have to dress you,” Anya threw open the wardrobe.

Valerie had already explored the contents of the wardrobe. Everything was top quality and imported, right down to the lingerie and hosiery. No more mass-produced, cheap white panties and bras, no more Brest Stocking Mill lustreless drab pantyhose. One of the drawers was full of silky, shiny, sheer pantyhose and nylon stockings. The range of lingerie was overwhelming.

Valerie thought briefly about the cheap, mass-manufactured, hand-altered suit and the tatty knock-off high heels she had been wearing when she arrived at Novogorbovo. She never wanted to see them again.

“During the day you will need to dress professionally but stylishly. You need to show the Americans that Russian women are not all frumpy matrons with hairs sticking out of their stockings,” Anya said.

“You need to project respectability and probity but also your sensuality,” Anya began to lay out business suits on the bed.

“Because I am a honey trap who is to seduce stupid American men so they can be blackmailed,” Valerie said petulantly.

Anya took three steps across the room and slapped Valerie across the face.

“Who do think you are? What do you think you’re doing here? Thousands of Soviet women would gladly be in your position. You are not only in a position of privilege; you get to serve the State and undermine the Americans who think the world must bow to their every whim,” Anya said solemnly.

“But I am a prisoner with no control over my life,” Valerie said, holding her scalding cheek.

“Stop whining and look on the bright side. You wanted to be woman! Well now you are one so behave like a true socialist woman and do your duty!” Anya said, turning her back on Valerie and began rummaging through the wardrobe.

Anya matched blouses to suits, tops to skirts, and shoes to the ensembles. Then she opened a large jewellery case and matched accessories.

“Ok. We have daywear, eveningwear, work wear, formal wear and casuals, note which item goes with which. Of course you will be able to use your own discretion but I’m just trying to give you some fashion sense before you leave,” Anya was very pleasant again; as if nothing had happened.

Finally Valerie was allowed to dress in something other than the chemises she wore to bed. Her breasts had healed sufficiently to wear a bra and with Anya’s help she selected a black satin and lace brassiere and matching panties.

Putting on a bra for the first time with real breasts felt amazing; she felt so feminine, so womanly. She guessed that her implants, like everything else, were an import. Soviet factories produced agricultural machinery, munitions, warships, tanks and warplanes. They likely made prosthetic limbs for the poor soldiers being blown apart in Afghanistan but she doubted they made silicone breast implants for cosmetic surgery.

She had felt the heft of her breasts many times since the implant surgery but feeling her breasts being supported by a brassiere was a totally different experience and she liked it. Opening the package of Calvin Klein Daytime sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose nervously, Valerie marvelled at their lustre and silkiness.

“Be careful with your nails. Even with them manicured it’s possible to snag those pantyhose and they are expensive. Here use these hosiery gloves,” Anya handed Valerie a pair of thin cotton gloves.

The pantyhose felt absolutely wonderful as they glided up her freshly shaved legs. Valerie had been instructed in how to properly tuck and had been practicing pushing her testes inside her inguinal canals, then wrapping her penis in her empty scrotum and pushing it between her legs. Taped in place she could endure it for a few hours. Untaped her tuck needed the support of her pantyhose gusset which she now had. She shimmied into her panties and delighted in the feel of them gliding along her legs over her silky pantyhose.

“No need to tell you to always wear your panties over your pantyhose for obvious reasons. When you are wearing stockings and suspenders you will have to rely on wearing your tightest panties to keep everything in place,” Anya said matter-of-factly.

Anya stopped Valerie there and made her walk around the room in high heels. Valerie was very proficient but Anya taught her how to sway her hips seductively and to thrust her buttocks out. Once she had mastered the walk she was allowed to dress in a business suit.

She tried on everything in her wardrobe to ensure it fitted correctly and was delighted with the results and her laughter was like music in the air as she tried on garment after garment. She was taking daily speech lessons, not to improve her English which was perfect, but to help her develop a smoky seductive voice that suited her Russian accented English.

Yuri came in during the fitting session and had Valerie walk around the room for him whilst chatting to an imaginary gentlemen.

“Can you dance?” Yuri asked and Valerie blushed and shook her head.

Yuri looked at Anya and Anya blushed too.

“You should have thought of that Anya. Get her started on dance lessons. Nothing fancy, enough for her to be led around the dance floor whilst some fat American lecher feels her up,” Yuri said offhandedly and Anya nodded.

Dancing was added to Valerie's daily routine of deportment, study of the American delegation and becoming familiar with the Moscow University where she was supposedly employed in the Cultural Development department where she wrote dissertations on western literature for the professors and acted as an interpreter when needed.

During her final weeks Valerie’s routine changed. She was considered absolutely competent at passing as a woman to be employed in the role she had been assigned. It was now time to introduce her to the world of intrigue and espionage. She saw less of Anaya and a lot more of Yuri Godekin who met with her privately.

At their first session Yuri was blunt with her.

“You need to learn how to fuck,” he said quite plainly.

Valerie blushed and couldn’t hold Yuri’s gaze.

“You are a seductress and a spy. I will teach you how to a spy but I have no intention of teaching you the arts of seduction and lovemaking. I’ll bring in someone else to teach you,” Yuri turned down his mouth in disgust.

“During your psychological exam you claimed to be virgin. Is that correct?” Yuri asked directly.

Valerie finally lifted her gaze from the carpet and looked him in the eye.

“I was confused about my sexuality as I was about my gender. I sometimes found myself attracted to women when I presented as Valéry and as Valerie I sometime found myself attracted to men. It was confusing so I never consummated a relationship,” Valerie admitted.

“What about before we left Moscow? The evening in Ivan Petrov’s office? He made me wait outside. I have waited outside Ivan Petrov’s office before while he interrogated young women. I know what he does in there,” Yuri reached for cigarettes.

Valerie’s face blushed scarlet and she turned away and shook her head.

Yuri lit a cigarette and then reached out and gently turned Valerie’s face to his. He studied her. The woman was astoundingly beautiful with her jet black hair, pale flawless skin, full red lips and green eyes; her small breasts heaving as she fought not to cry. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. A single tear escaped and streaked mascara in a thin line down her cheek.

Yuri reached for his handkerchief and reached out to dry her tears and Valerie flinched and turned away expecting a slap. Yuri turned her to face him again and gently dabbed his handkerchief on her cheek. Valerie’s frown turned into a wan smile and her eyes sparkled and in that moment Yuri thought he could actually care for this woman.

He placed the cigarette between her lips and Valerie inhaled the sweet American tobacco.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“He made me fellate him,” Valerie whispered.

“How was it?” Yuri asked nonplussed.

“How do you think it was?” Valerie hissed.

“I mean it in a practical sense. You obviously complied and saw the act through to completion. Just how disgusting was it?” Yuri asked.

Yuri genuinely wanted to know. Valerie’s body and her beauty were weapons and she was going to have to seduce and have sex with strangers. He needed to know that she could deal with the consequences of having detached, emotionless sex with men she despised. She needed to be able to do it remorselessly and resolutely while she used her guile to bring about their downfall or steal their secrets.

Valerie took another drag on the cigarette.

“He made me suck his penis. I had no idea what I was doing so he, shall we say, instructed me. When I finished he seemed satisfied. He told me I wasn’t bad but would get better. Is that what you wanted to hear,” Valerie’s tears had retuned and now both cheeks were streaked with mascara.

Valerie didn’t tell Yuri that she had ejaculated into her panties during the act and that despite being terrified she found it a little empowering.

Yuri pulled Valerie into his arms and hugged her, feeling her small body nestle into his hard muscled frame. He felt her small breasts pressing into him and smelled the shampoo in her hair and her perfume and despite the revulsion he felt for what she was, he found himself becoming concupiscent and he gently disengaged and handed her his handkerchief so she could dry her cheeks.

Valerie was suddenly intrigued by Yuri. She couldn’t work him out. He ran hot and cold. Sometimes displaying affection for her and sometimes unable to hide his disgust. When he had comforted her in his arms she felt safe and secure and something else… affection? She wasn’t sure but she thought she felt a bulge growing in his trousers before he eased her out of his embrace.

“Ok. Let's get to work,” Yuri was all business.

He opened a pelican case and extracted a small camera and showed Valerie how to use it. It was tiny and designed to be hidden in her purse and when an opportunity arose she was to photograph every document she could lay her hands on.

“Don’t worry about whether or not the document is important. Just take the pictures and of course don’t get caught doing so,” Yuri gave her a rare smile.

“Using this button here the camera will take timed still photographs. Place it somewhere unobtrusive and aim it at the bed or wherever you are going to have sex. The aperture will change automatically,” Yuri explained.

“Practice with it tonight,” Yuri said matter-of-factly, which sent a shiver down Valerie’s back.

“In your hotel room in America I will mount a video camera that will be undetectable. It will be aimed at your bed. You must encourage your target to undertake sexual congress on the bed. Try to encourage him to engage in anything that might be considered by some to be deviant,” Yuri said, causing Valerie to blush for the umpteenth time that day.

“How will I know which targets to select?” Valerie asked.

“You have read the dossiers. Every one of those files represents a potential target but also use your intuition. We won’t know every participant at every event. If someone appears to be a suitable target and shows interest in you that way, do what you have to,” Yuri patted Valerie's knee and for a second she was repulsed by him.

The day was spent discussing tradecraft and fieldwork until late afternoon when Anya returned. They had eaten a light lunch together. The food was splendid; far better than her usual diet but the portions were small. Anya told Valerie that she had to watch her diet and keep her figure.

Yuri said a formal goodbye and then said something quite out in left field.

“Good luck tonight Valerie. Learn quickly. I’m sure will enjoy it more than you think,” he gave her a salacious wink which Valerie found disturbing.

“What did Yuri mean by that?” Valerie asked, ignoring Anya’s directive not to ask questions.

“Tonight you are going to a cocktail party here in the facility. Most of the Soviet delegates travelling to USA will be there along with some invited guests,” Anya said and Valerie's smile lit up the room.

She hadn't been outside of the room since she came to the ‘facility’ except to use the gymnasium which was always deserted except for her and Anya when they used it.

“You will be formally introduced to Professor Mikhail Blavatsky as his interpreter and assistant for the cultural exchange conferences and you will be introduced to rest of the delegation. It will be an opportunity for you to test your backstory and to present yourself as a woman in a crowded, formal setting,” Anya continued.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Valerie could not contain her excitement.

“Among the guests will be a KGB agent disguised as an ordinary citizen. He knows who you are but will feign ignorance. Your job is to identify him as a potential source and entice him up this room and set your honey trap,” Anya said brusquely and Valerie paled.

“Don’t be coy. You know why you are here and not in some re-education camp in Siberia,” Anya snapped.

“Ok. I believe I can entice him to my room. Then what? As Yuri so plainly put it; I don’t know how to fuck!” Valerie snapped.

“That’s when the agent will take over. He will teach you the art of seduction and introduce you to the joys of sex,” Anya was her pleasant self again; she sounded almost jealous.

“Now there are some practicalities that you need to take care of. Come with me to the bathroom,” Anya took Valerie by the wrist and let her to the ensuite.

Valerie's head was spinning and she allowed herself to be led along like a rag doll.

“Use this. Keep going until the water runs clear. Another reason for you to limit your food intake in America, the less you eat, the less time you spend doing this,” Anya handed Valerie what appeared to be a pump ball with a spigot attached.

“Make sure you lubricate before you insert it and a take a shower after and make sure there are no errant hairs on your body, you need to be perfect tonight,” Anya handed Valerie a tube of water-based lubricant and Valerie stood there holding the douche in one hand and the lubricant in the other, a stunned look on her face.

“Don’t be coy. You do it or I’ll do it to you and I won’t be gentle!” Anya put her hands on her hips defiantly.

Valerie came out of her reverie and pushed Anya out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

Thirty minutes later she emerged freshly showered and clean inside and out. Anya just nodded and ripped off Valerie's shower cap and tossed it in the bathroom and led Valerie to the vanity to assess Valerie’s makeup skills.

Director of Foreign Operations Office, KGB Headquarters in Lubyanka Square – Two Days Earlier

“Comrade Professor Mikhail Blavatsky, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Ivan Petrov indicated for Mikhail to sit in a chair in front of his desk as he rose to pour vodka.

“Such a senseless waste. I loved her,” Professor Blavatsky began to blubber.

Mikhail had been inconsolable ever since his lover Petra Donevski had been killed in a hit and run outside of his University-provided apartment.

“She was perfect in every way. I don’t know what I will do without her. I know that she was assigned to me by your Directorate and was only doing her job, but I felt so much love for her,” Mikhail put his face in his hands and began to sob loudly.

Ivan put the two glasses of vodka down on his desk and turned to Mikhail Blavatsky and put his arms around him. When Mikhail looked up Ivan took a step back and slapped Mikhail across the face. Then he did it again and again, knocking the Professor out of his chair and then Ivan kicked him in the ribs.

“Get up you blithering fool. Petra Donevski was merely a tool and you were merely the man who was going to take her to the workplace. You were her cover and you knew it. We told her to fuck you so that you would be besotted by her and keep her identity safe,” Ivan leaned down and offered Mikhail a hand.

Mikhail waved the hand away and managed to get his feet and leaned on the back of the chair grimacing with pain.

“I couldn’t help falling in love with her,” Mikhail whimpered.

Ivan handed him the full tumbler of Vodka.

“You are a clerical rat and she was a wolf. Petra would have eaten you eventually,” Ivan looked at Mikhail knowingly.

“You knew her personally?” Mikhail was incredulous.

“I knew Petra. I selected her myself for this assignment and I always taste the wine I am about to serve to others,” Ivan raised his brows and chuckled.

“Anyway; enough of Petra. We have found you a new interpreter even better; even more beautiful but you are not to touch her,” Ivan downed his vodka and poured another.

Suddenly Professor Mikhail Blavatsky had something else on his mind beside the loss of his lover.

“More beautiful? When do I meet her?” he asked petulantly.

“In two days’ time you will be taken to a facility in Novogorbovo which resembles the hotel where the conference will be held in New York; what our American friends call a ‘meet and greet’. Valerie Sokolova will be introduced to you during the event. You will of course claim to be very familiar with Valerie and her work at the University to anyone who asks about her,” Ivan explained.

“As I have said before, she is off limits to you, other than in performing her duties as an interpreter and as your assistant,” Ivan glared at Mikhail who nodded meekly.

“Now go and pack for your journey Mikhail. Don’t mourn Petra any more than you have to. I’m sure there are students at the university who are willing to trade favours for grades, and if not, you are free to sample the delights of the Intourist Hotel. I’m advised by my sources that all of the hookers there favour pantyhose,” Ivan chuckled.

Mikhail’s face burned red. That bitch Petra Donevski had been reporting back to her bosses and told them about Mikhail’s obsession with pantyhose!

Ivan took Mikhail's glass and guided him to the door.

Mikhail stopped and turned as he was about to leave.

“Petra’s death. It was an accident?” Mikhail asked; his face full of scepticism.

“Matters for wolves and bears Mikhail; best that rats like you scurry along and do your duty unknowing of what the wolves and bears have planned,” Ivan patted Mikhail's shoulder and then closed the door on him.

Mikhail stalked away seething but he displayed no emotions to his two KGB chaperones.

Novogorbovo, Russia – June 1985

Valerie’s heart was beating fast. She was alone in her room with the handsome man she had picked up from the party which was still in full swing one floor below them. He had been relatively easy to spot as the KGB plant because he was the youngest and most handsome man there. He had told Valerie that he was part of the security detail and she had pretended to be interested in his work and used the subtle gestures that Anya had taught her to show the man that she was interested in his attention.

He was in the bathroom and Valerie was rummaging in her purse trying to find the miniature camera. She knew exactly where it was but because she was so nervous her long red fingernails kept clicking on everything except what she desperately wanted: the fucking camera!

She found it and clicked the little button that engaged the timed photography mode and set it on the vanity amongst a clutter of makeup and perfume. Valerie was adjusting the camera so that it was aimed directly at the bed when Vlad came out of the bathroom.

He was naked.

Valerie pretended to be looking for perfume and she raised the little bottle of Poison, her favourite, and sprayed herself liberally. She turned to face Vlad and blushed.

“You didn’t waste any time,” she said very nervously.

“You have achieved your objective Valerie Sokolova. You have lured me up to your room. You were a little clumsy but your beauty will make anyone forgive any little transgressions. Also you should be a little more subtle about placing the camera, remember you won’t be in your own room,” Vlad smiled at her and Valerie nearly swooned.

“I’m here to seduce you and show you how to make love so why don’t we start. As you can see I’m more the ready,” Vlad smiled and looked down at his long thick engorged penis.

“Come here,” Vlad reached out and pulled Valerie into his arms.

She was nervous but also very inquisitive and excited. Being amongst the crowd at the cocktail party had boosted her confidence after being confined for so long. Her beauty and poise had made her a popular conversationalist. She put her encounter with Professor Mikhail Blavatsky out of her mind; that had not gone well. Anyway Vlad had just put his lips on hers and all thoughts of anything else faded into oblivion.

She was wearing a low-cut red satin evening gown split to the waist on one side. It showed off her creamy décolletage and her long legs clad in shimmering flesh-toned thigh-high stockings.

Valerie could feel Vlad’s cock pressing on her leg as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. It was all happening so fast, the feel of Vlad’s muscular body pressing against her satin-clad body was so sensual, his tongue in her mouth so insistent and his cock rubbing on her leg was exciting.

Once again those feelings of being desired, being wanted, being feminine and being powerful coursed through Valerie's psyche. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue into his and mimicked the movements he was doing to her. His lips pressing on hers felt deliriously wonderful and his tongue was doing things she couldn’t explain but it felt lovely.

She was experiencing pleasure returning his kisses and instinctively she pressed her body against his a little firmer and shimmied, reaching for his cock and feeling the girth of it.

Valerie knew where that cock was going and it frightened the hell out of her but it also excited her. She could feel the pulse of it, the silkiness of the flesh, the power of it and she knew subconsciously that she wanted it.

Vlad broke the kiss and was panting with desire.

“I have so much to teach you Valerie but first I want to pleasure myself with your body. Lessons will come later,” Vlad said breathlessly and pushed Valerie onto the bed where she lay shocked with her legs akimbo.

Vlad fell on her, crushing his mouth against hers, his hands roaming freely over her body. He was insistent, almost frantic the way he pawed at her.

He pulled down the neckline of her dress and freed her breasts from the strapless bra, tearing it from her body and casting it aside. He tweaked a nipple between his fingers and Valerie gasped as freshets of pleasure radiated from the sensitive nubbin. Vlad moved his head down to her breasts and suckled them, stroking the smooth soft globes with his fingers while his lips and tongue alternated between her nipples. He nipped them softly with his teeth and Valerie hissed, but with pleasure not pain.

Having Vlad suckling on her brand new bosom validated Valerie's femininity and she was thoroughly enjoying being kissed and caressed but when Vlad’s hand drifted down inside her dress she began to feel a little perturbed. She was uncomfortably tumescent inside her panties. Because she was wearing stockings rather than pantyhose her tuck was held in place by a pair of tight red almost transparent nylon full-cut panties which kept her tuck tight but didn’t spoil the lines of her sheath dress.

Those panties were in danger of being breached because Valerie had become aroused by Vlad's ministrations and her testes had descended and filled her scrotum and her penis had become engorged.

Her cock became harder as Vlad began to stroke her legs, his fingers caressing her silky nylons sending wavelets of intense pleasure up her thighs. He stroked her thighs softly then firmly, alternating between soft caresses and insistent squeezes. Valerie was overcome with lust and desire but when Vlad peeled her out of satin sheath she felt vulnerable lying on the bed dressed only in her panties, stockings and heels.

She cupped her genitals to hide them as Vlad knelt on the bed and gazed at her magnificence. He started at her heart-shaped face with its flawless alabaster complexion; her bright emerald-green eyes highlighted by black eyeliner and mascara and mauve eyeshadow, her perfect cheekbones subtly highlighted with rouge, those full sensuous lips red lips; all framed by her strikingly glossy black bob.

His eyes roamed down her petite body, her prominent clavicles above her small but exquisite breasts, the areola pink and her nipples like berries, her flat belly and slim waist, her legs long, well-turned, swathed in glossy tan stockings, the dark welts contrasting with the milky flesh of her thighs and finally those sexy red four-inch stiletto heels.

“Move your hands,” Vlad whispered.

Valerie froze, unable to move.

“I can’t. I’m embarrassed,” she whispered.

“You can’t be. Your uniqueness is what makes you a weapon. Some men will be repelled by what you have between your legs and some will be attracted. You are so gorgeous and sexy that some who initially find you repellent will change their minds,” Vlad said softly, tracing a fingertip along the length of her right leg.

“I have been sent to train you. I know what is there. I will admit to you that I am usually only attracted to women but you beguile me and all I see is a woman. A special woman,” Vlad leaned down and kissed her softly as his finger stroked the welt of her stoking and then moved along her creamy thigh until it came to her pubis where Valerie’s hands cupped her genitals.

He hooked his finger under her hands and prised them open and then moved them away. He lay down on top of her and kissed her passionately and stroked her hard penis through her transparent nylon panties and Valerie moaned like a slattern.

Frissons of intense pleasure radiated from her cock as Vlad softly caressed it through her slinky panties. She felt droplets of pre-ejaculate begin to leak from the eye and soak into her panties. She kissed him harder and reached for his manhood; it was hard, throbbing and hot and felt both magnificent and dangerous in her hand.

Vlad lifted her legs and put them over his shoulders and searched under the pillows for the tube of lubricant that Valerie had placed there as instructed by Anya.

Valerie knew what was coming and was filled with trepidation.

“Let me suck it! I’m good at that I’ve been told,” she looked up into Vlad’s handsome face pleadingly.

“Oh you will; but later. I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you,” Vlad grinned down at her.

Valerie began to struggle but she was no match for Vlad’s strength. He held onto her legs and allowed her to writhe on the bed while his fingers reached for the tube of lubricant. He unscrewed the cap with his teeth. Holding Valerie’s calves either side of his neck with one arm, he squeezed a dollop the slippery lubricant onto the fingers of his free hand and hooked aside the gusset of her panties with his thumb and smeared the emollient on her puckered sphincter.

Valerie wriggled like a stuck fish, no longer filled with desire; she was instead full of dread. She wondered why she had agreed to this, why she had allowed them to mutilate her body and turn her into a freak. She wasn’t a woman and she wasn’t a man. In that moment she felt despair.

“If you keep fighting me it’s going to hurt. I know what I'm doing so just relax,” Vlad said in a soothing tone.

He dropped Valerie's legs and lay down beside her and pulled her to him. He held her tight and kissed her.

“I really don’t want to fuck you Valerie. I want to make love to you. I have never been with a woman as beautiful as you. I have made love to many women because I desired them and I have made love to a few men because I was ordered to do so but you are different,” Vlad stroked her cheek.

“You have such radiant beauty and you exude sensuality and sexuality. You don’t even understand how desirable you are and your naïveté makes you all the more adorable and irresistible. Did you see the way that all the men were looking at you at the cocktail party? They were coveting you and all the women were jealous of you,” Vlad kissed Valerie softly.

“But none of them know how unique you are; how special. That is what draws me to you and makes me want to possess you,” Vlad kissed her harder and stroked her nipples which became hard again as did her penis.

Valerie stroked Vlad’s muscled chest and then moved her hand down to his hip and finally she found his rampant penis. Vlad had quelled her terror and once again she was feeling lascivious and powerful. When Vlad stoked her penis through her panties it quivered with expectation.

“Let me take you before you make me orgasm in your hand,” Vlad eased Valerie's hand off his penis and rolled her onto her back.

She looked up at his powerful body as he loomed over her and lifted her legs, resting her ankles on his shoulders. Valerie closed her eyes and quivered in expectation of intense pain as Vlad eased aside the gusset of her panties.

She felt him nestle his glans in her tight bud.

“Relax,” Vlad whispered and lowered his face to hers and kissed her as he slid his glans inside her.

Fire! That’s what it felt like at first when the bulbous head of Vlad’s cock pierced her sphincter. But not for long. Vlad rained kissed down on her face and stroked her milky breasts leaving just the tip of his penis inside her anus.

Then something wonderful happened.

Instead of fire, the pain became a dull throb and then it transformed into ringlets of intense delight that radiated from her tight sphincter. Vlad felt Valerie relax a little and she sought his mouth and kissed him. She began to lift her legs off his shoulders and he tried to hold them there.

“Let me,” she whispered softly and longingly and Vlad understood.

He let go of her legs and Valerie wrapped them around his waist and he gasped at the feel of her diaphanous stockings on his tender flesh.

She smiled up at him and he lowered his face to hers so he could kiss her and she kissed him back, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his strong back and he felt her grimace as she slowly impaled herself on his long thick cock.

There was some pain but not as much as Valerie expected and once he was fully inside her Valerie relaxed and kissed Vlad and stroked his face and shoulders and rubbed her legs on flanks, the feel of her cool slinky stockings giving her as much pleasure as she was giving her lover. She felt full and stretched but her anus had lit up like a dim bulb that gradually became brighter which was what the indescribable but delightful feelings felt like.

Vlad knew better than to move. He knew that Valerie was taking her time accommodating his hard cock and he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Valerie’s anus was so tight, velvety and slick that he knew that he would orgasm within seconds if he began thrusting.

But he needn’t to worry because after what seemed like an eternity of soft kisses and caresses, Valerie smiled up at him impishly and slowly began to buck her hips, easing his cock almost all of the way out of her tight crevasse and then pushing it all the way back inside her so that his scrotum slapped on her soft pretty ass.

“This is good,” Valerie sighed.

“No, it’s not, it’s wonderful,” she smiled at him and pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply and scissored her legs on his body to encourage him.

Vlad needed no encouragement; he began to fuck Valerie with long slow strokes which were all he could manage without inducing an orgasm. He could feel her cock pressing into his belly, swathed in her nylon panties. When this happened with men he was repulsed but with Valerie it excited him even more.

Valerie was delirious with pleasure: wave after wave of delectation radiated from deep inside her anus as Vlad fucked her, his glans nudging her prostate and the girth of his shaft massaged her tight sphincter. Her cock was pressing against Vlad’s tight belly and her silky nylon panties rubbed on the underside of it and it quivered as it came close to exploding.

Vlad sensed Valerie's urgency as she began to buck underneath him and rise off the bed to meet his thrusts as she clung to him and whimpered and moaned with desire.

She felt Vlad’s cock balloon to full girth and shudder as he ejaculated deep inside her tight anus and her own penis quivered as she released and the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced wracked her body.

They clung to each other, thrusting, and mewling, moaning and nipping; Vlad's cock filling her with his hot load as he jackhammered it in and out of Valerie’s tight hole. He was almost overcome with the pleasure of it as he felt Valerie’s anus squeeze his rampant cock and milk every drop of his issue. He felt her slippery semen spread across his belly when Valerie filled her panties with her searing load.

They lay in each other’s arms afterward without speaking, just kissing and canoodling for about thirty minutes until Vlad’s refractory period expired and Valerie felt him becoming tumescent again. She made her way down his body and began to suckle him and Vlad gave her directions on how to do it better, with variations of technique.

The final instalment of Valerie’s education had begun.

Novogorbovo, Russia – June 1985

Valerie fell asleep that night, her anus a little sore and her jaw aching but fully satiated and content, cuddled up in the arms of Vladimir Golubev and dreamt of the cocktail party she had attended as her first night as a woman, interacting with other people without the constant fear and shame hanging over her head.

Vlad was correct about all the men looking at her at the cocktail party and some of the women did stare at her with open jealousy. Valerie had been terrified but she was accompanied by Yuri Godekin who told her to relax and to try to enjoy herself. They drank champagne and Yuri led her around the room introducing her to the other members of the delegation and eventually Valerie became more confident.

“Remember your backstory. Practice it with them. Also try to identify the man I have planted here as your target and use your skills to entice him up to your room,” Yuri whispered in her ear and sent her on her way.

Valerie chatted with as many members of the delegation as she could. It was relatively easy because most of the unaccompanied men formed a circle around her and competed with each other to talk to her. It was good to be using her native tongue again and she was genuinely interested in what some of the men had to say.

She identified Vladimir Golubev as the KGB plant early on because he stood out like a sore thumb amongst the middle aged besuited Russian delegates. When he came over and introduced himself as a member of the security detail that would be accompanying the delegates, Valerie used her new-found feminine wiles to engage with him, leaning in to listen to him so he could look down her décolletage and smell her perfume, standing with one foot forward so the split in her dress remained open showing off the acres of nylon-sheathed perfect leg and her apple-bottom, touching him gently and smiling when he made a witty comment.

Valerie doubted it would be this easy in the field but she had to admit to herself that it was fun. When she leaned into him conspiratorially and whispered in his ear that he was welcome to come upstairs and join her in her room she knew she had the right man but she was suddenly filled with dread. She was actually relieved when Yuri Godekin came over and interrupted them.

Yuri was with a bespectacled man wearing an ill-fitting suit whom she guessed was nearly twice her age. He was gangly-tall and balding but with a protruding pot belly; his teeth were yellow and there were tiny food stains on his shirt. He was quite repugnant and he glared openly at Valerie’s legs making her feel uncomfortable and causing her to self-consciously put her feet together and close the split in her dress.

“Valerie Sokolova, this is Professor Mikhail Blavatsky but of course you know each other because you work together,” Yuri said winking conspiratorially, grinning at the entendre he had made.

“Follow me both of you,” Yuri took on a serious tone and led them both to a small ante room off the main hall and closed and locked the door.

Valerie could feel Mikhail Blavatsky’s eyes on her legs and her ass during the short walk and even thought she had just met the man she felt revolted by him but decided then and there that she would force herself to be pleasant and accommodating to him because that was her job. Well to be entirely accurate it was her cover; her job was to be a seductress.

When the three of them were alone in the room Mikhail approached Yuri and glared at him.

“I am Professor Mikhail Blavatsky head of Moscow University’s Cultural Development and leader of the academic contingent of our glorious leader’s cultural exchange delegation to the United States of America and I will not be ordered around by an underling,” Mikhail spat.

“This tchotchke in a red dress cannot hold a candle to Petra Donevski. I can tell that she doesn’t have the intellect or the experience for the position in which she has been placed,” Mikhail pointed a dirty fingernail at Valerie who just stood there saying nothing.

Yuri grabbed Mikhail's outstretched finger and bent it back. The pain was excruciating and Mikhail fell to his knees begging Yuri to stop but he didn’t. He bent it further and Valerie watched, cringing and waiting for the finger to snap but it didn’t. Yuri stopped when Mikhail began to cry.

“Get up you buffoon!” Yuri yelped.

“The only reason you are going to America is as a ruse for our agent provocateur. It was to be Petra Donevski but as you know she met with an unfortunate accident so we have replaced her with Valerie Sokolova. Unlike Petra, Valerie has not been tasked with seducing you to keep you trained and under control. There will be no need. Despite your peacocking you know that you are a mere foil. Valerie is an officer in the KGB’s Fifth Directorate and you will respect her authority,” Yuri's face was so close to Mikhail’s that his spit flecked Mikhail’s glasses.

“Valerie will play her role in public pretending to be your aide and interpreting for you but if you so much as try to touch her I will cut off your dick and shove it down your throat you puffed-up baboon,” Yuri took a step back from Mikhail, repelled by his rancid breath.

“We leave in three days. The two of you will spend two hours a day getting to know each other better so you can both play your parts and so Valerie can better understand her duties,” Yuri straightened his jacket and glared at Mikhail.

“You may return to the party Professor,” Yuri unlocked and opened the door and indicated for Mikhail to leave.

Yuri and Valerie could feel the resentment radiating off Mikhail like a heat lamp. Yuri closed the door and turned to Valerie.

“You have identified your mark?” Yuri asked her.

“It was easy. It’s Vladimir Golubev who claims he is providing security for the delegation. I doubt it will be that easy in America,” Valerie said.

“Of course not and Vlad’s role was not to make it difficult for you. It was for you to practice your skills on an easy target. Just pretend he is some American who is taken by your beauty. Set the honey trap. Use the camera to take incriminating pictures of you both together. Just remember this is just a practice run,” Yuri took out cigarettes and offered her one and lit it before lighting his own.

“There is only one problem,” Valerie took a long drag on her cigarette.

“Your seductress doesn’t know how to seduce,” Valerie blew smoke from her nostrils.

“Don’t do that, it isn’t ladylike,” Yuri said, and reached out playfully tweaked Valerie’s pretty nose.

“Vlad will take over once you have lured him to your room. His job is to teach you how to… how to…” Yuri seemed lost for words.

“How to fuck?” Valerie said coldly but couldn’t help breaking into a grin.

Yuri said nothing so Valerie broke the silence.

“You told the Professor that we leave in three days. Am I to take it that you are coming with us?” Valerie asked.

Yuri did not reply. He opened the door for her and stood aside.

“Thank you,” Valerie whispered as she slid past him.

Yuri looked around the room and saw that no one was watching. He playfully slapped Valerie on her behind.

“Go get him you vixen,” he whispered and quickly closed the door.

Valerie’s confusion mounted. Sometimes Yuri treated her like dirt and other times he was pleasant, almost playful with her. She couldn’t work him out. She saw Vlad smiling at her from across the room and put Yuri out of her mind and concentrated on the task in hand. She was about to be deflowered and she had to go over and lure the man who would do the deflowering up to her room.

J. Edgar Hoover Building, 935 Pennsylvania Avenue NW in Washington, D.C. – June 1985

Special Agent Vince Gruffalo sat at his desk. He was bored. He had reviewed the files on all of the members of the Soviet academic contingent and with the exception of the file on Petra Donevski, whom he found fascinating, they were boring. They were as likely to be spies as his lunch in the cafeteria was likely to be appetising.

“Enjoying your work?” the Special Agent in Charge, Mike Shilling, parked his ass on the corner of Vince's desk.

“A babysitting shit sandwich. Just like I thought it would be,” Vince looked up at his boss.

“The Russian’s have made a change to the delegation. The Donevski broad isn’t coming. She’s been replaced,” the SAC dropped a slim file in front of Vince.

“Jesus, she was the only person in the delegation that tickled my toes,” Vince whined.

“Never mind Vince. The new broad is a looker too. We haven’t got any surveillance footage of her because she’s a last minute replacement but if the picture the Rooskies supplied is anything to go by she’s a stunner. Far out of your league,” the SAC chuckled and lifted his ass off Vince’s desk and walked away.

Valerie Sokolova’s CV read pretty much the same as Petra Donevski’s had. Sokolova was also employed at the Moscow University in the Cultural Development department and was to be Professor Mikhail Blavatsky’s assistant and interpreter. The CIA and FBI had, just like they did with Petra Donevski, assessed Valerie as low risk.

Vince carefully studied the portrait provided by the Soviet Embassy. The woman was indeed stunning. The Rooskies, through the Soviet Embassy in Washington, had provided a colour photograph of Valerie Sokolova to the US State Department who was responsible for convening the conference.

Vince stared at Valerie’s heart-shaped face with its flawless alabaster complexion; her bright emerald-green eyes, her perfect cheekbones and full sensuous lips red lips. Her jet-black hair was striking: worn off-the-shoulder centre parted with severe straight bangs cut across her brows.

Ok squirrel – where is moose?” a voice from behind Vince said in a pitifully bad Russian accent.

Vince tuned around and saw Bob Munsen, another agent assigned to the conference, looking over his shoulder at the picture of Valerie Sokolova.

“What the fuck?” Vince looked up at Bob like he was insane.

“The chick in the photograph,” Bob pointed to Valerie Sokolova's portrait.

“She looks like the chick in that old cartoon ‘The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle’. What was her name? Natasha Fatale! Not quite Betty Rubble in my ‘chicks in cartoons who I’d fuck’ spank bank, but right up there,” Bob chuckled.

“Let me get this right. You keep a list of female cartoon characters who you’d fuck if they were real and you rate them?” Vince said incredulously.

“A threesome with Jane and Judy Jetson is currently on top of the list but I’m thinking of moving up Betty Boop because she’s got great legs,” Bob Munson chuckled.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Vince grunted and turned back to the picture of Valerie.

But Bob was right. Valerie did kinda look like Natasha Fatale but this girl was no cartoon. In the portrait he could just make out her tits in the tight suit jacket she was wearing. They looked small but perky. Vince was a leg and ass man but he liked perky tits too. Maybe this detail wouldn’t be too bad if he could make an excuse to follow this chick around?

Novogorbovo, Russia – July 1985

For Valerie, the next three days seemed to race by. Most of the day was spent with Yuri Godekin, fine tuning her tradecraft or in the facilities conference room where the delegation was briefed on travel and accommodation arrangements, the cultural exchange programme and of course security. She sat beside Professor Mikhail Blavatsky throughout the briefings and had lunch with rest of the delegates sitting beside him in her role as his aide. She spent most of the meal slapping away his hand as he tried to fondle her legs under the table.

Valerie knew that if she told Yuri he would take retribution on Mikhail but she was smart enough to know that whatever Mikhail did he would still get to attend the conference because they needed him to give Valerie validity. As she had to work with Mikhail every day she put up with his persistent groping.

Valerie and Mikhail spent two hours together every day away from the other delegates so that Mikhail could explain to her the intricacies of the Cultural Development Department at Moscow University and provide insight that was not available to her through the dossiers that she had read.

She was always in the company of Anya or Yuri during those sessions so Mikhail had little opportunity to try to grope her but when they sat together he seldom looked her in the eyes but allowed his eyes to wander over her body, lingering on her breasts and gazing for long periods at her legs.

It was uncomfortable for Valerie because she was now wearing the wardrobe that she would take to America and the business suits she would wear to the conferences and meetings during the day had been deliberately tailored to show off her assets. They were tight-fitting with the blouses cut low and the hems of her skirt cut high.

As much as Valerie tried, it was difficult to keep her skirt down and Mikhail spent most of the their time together staring at her thighs, making no attempt to hide the erection in his trousers, adjusting his pants to hide it only when Yuri or Anya were near.

Evenings were spent with Vladimir Golubev who educated her in the delights of uninhibited sex. He taught her every perversion that he knew and if Valerie was honest with herself there weren't many that she didn’t like. She was a quick learner and after three evenings with Vlad she was an accomplished fellatrix and an even better practitioner of coitus.

On the final day Anya helped her pack. Valerie was both nervous and excited and she was a little surprised when Anya took her in her arms and hugged and kissed her and wished her luck.

Yuri came to her room to escort her to the waiting convoy of vehicles that would be taking them to the airport where an Ilyushin Il-62 long-range jetliner, specially fitted out for the delegation, was waiting on the tarmac. Her suitcases would be looked after by a valet.

Professor Mikhail Blavatsky had carried his own suitcases downstairs to the lobby and then humped them out to the truck that would deliver them to the airport. He stood at the door to the bus he would be boarding, crowded with other delegates and watched Yuri escort Valerie to a black GAZ Volga sedan where he helped her into the back seat. His anger seethed.

His beautiful Petra had been taken away from him. Yes, he knew that Petra despised him and only tolerated him because it was her duty to do so but this bitch Valerie behaved as if she was his superior rather than a mere underling. She was being given preferential treatment and Yuri Godekin had belittled him in front of her. He would have his revenge!

To be continued

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Sounds like the Prof is going to be……

D. Eden's picture

Trouble. Methinks he will get himself in deep shit. The question is whether or not he will throw Valerie under the bus first or not.

I still think she ends up with our FBI agent.

A threesome with the Jetson girls? Really? That’s just twisted, lol.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Honey Traps

joannebarbarella's picture

Have been mentioned in connection with certain US businessmen/politicians who were trying to do deals with the Russians.

Perhaps Valerie will get the chance to use her expertise on some of them.