In From the Cold
by Eternuer
The
Vladimir Doestokiev opened the door of his apartment and stood face-to-face with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
She was the archetypal Russian beauty, with deep brown eyes and flowing dark hair, her skin between the milky whiteness of the West and the exotic darkness of the East. He had asked for the loveliest girl Dimitriov could find, and knew his “provider” had provided.
Had Doestokiev been dissatisfied, he would have made sure Dimitriov never saw the light of day again.
The girl greeted him in a professional manner and followed him inside. She seemed relaxed, and was content to stand in the middle of the room, smiling faintly, without asking questions.
Of course, she had no reason to be suspicious. If she had talked to the apartment block’s other residents, they would have repeated the lie he had told them: that he was an office clerk. And if he ever had cause to think one of them did not believe him, he could easily have that individual silenced. Anonymity was essential in his business.
But the
girl’s inscrutable smile hid secrets of her own. She knew his real occupation,
and she was as impressed with Doestokiev as he was
with her. He was the classic tall, dark, handsome man. A young forty, he was
not the ageing scientist she had expected.
Doestokiev was a truly brilliant man, the KGB’s foremost
expert in biological weaponry and the mastermind behind a top-secret plan to
unleash a deadly virus on the West. The Soviets had all been immunised – through the state-controlled media, the
nation’s populace had been led to believe that the massive vaccination programme was needed to protect them from a more common and
less deadly disease.
The lethal virus was to be released in the West a few days
from now. After it had taken effect, the
In the
meantime, Doestokiev was free to enjoy leisure
activities. And his privileged position meant he was able to entertain
delightful creatures like the one now in his apartment.
He smiled
at her. “Your name is?”
“Tania.”
“I'm
Experienced
as she was in these matters, the lovely Tania felt a shiver of pleasure run
through her.
They made
polite conversation as
“My father
used to tell me – never mix business with pleasure,” said
Without
further preliminaries, they went to the bedroom, stripped and admired each
other’s nakedness. Then they made fierce love, limbs tangling in the most
intense sexual passion either had experienced. They seemed perfectly matched.
He was
enchanted by the exquisite beauty and youthful zest of the girl; she was
exhilarated by the passion, strength and tenderness of this experienced lover
fifteen years her senior.
“What is
your deepest desire?” she asked breathlessly.
He
whispered in her ear; she smiled warmly.
“Let me
see, then, if I can satisfy you.”
She took a
tress of her flowing hair and began to caress the tip of her delicate nose,
letting a few silky strands wander up her nostrils to tickle sensitive
membranes.
“AHH...AHHH...AHHHH...” And no more.
Doestokiev’s face sagged with disappointment.
“'Please...please...”
“I…um…ah…I
don’t think so.” Tania was restraining the strong sneeze building inside her
nose, her head, her whole body.
“I beg you!
I beg you!” Even as he pleaded, he thought: I
am a fool; I am playing her game. But he couldn’t help himself; she must continue.
“No,” she
replied.
“What!”
“Not unless
you tell me what I want to know.”
What could
she mean? He could give her almost anything she desired. Certainly, if it was
wealth she wanted, he could supply it. He could give her power as well,
providing it did not rival his own. If she was more “romantically inclined”, he
could satisfy her in this regard too. And he was good with words. If she wanted
poetry, praise or erotica, she could have them.
He would do
anything to hear this beautiful woman release the delicious power building
inside her. It would be a priceless treasure!
“Anything
you want. Ask it!”
Tania felt
she was about to explode into a sneeze. But it was imperative that she kept the
urge in check.
She whispered
into his ear her request. The scientist, driven insane by desire, lost in a fog
of unreasoning passion, blurted out the information she needed.
And Tania
finally released an earth-shattering: “AAAAAAHHHHHHCHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
The two
came as she sneezed. Both were satisfied.
Doestokiev breathed out in relief. When he opened his eyes,
the girl had gone, her presence – her scent – like a
fading dream...
A
day later. The office of the
head of MI5,
“Excellent work, Agent 700. With your information, our
scientists have already duplicated the antidote and an immunisation
programme is underway. Her Majesty the Queen has
personally sent a message of gratitude, and I should think you’re up for a
medal. You’ve saved the West from the most deadly threat our Russian enemies
have yet posed. No need to say it again, but I will anyway: top stuff.”
“Thank-you,
Sir. I was only doing my duty."
Agent 700,
Sarah Smith, a dark-haired English beauty and First Class Oxford graduate, had
been the ideal choice for this mission: worm her way into Doestokiev's
affections in the guise of a high-class Russian prostitute, and use her
considerable charms to learn the antidote’s formula.
Sir Spencer
Smythe, head of MI5, had to restrain an urge to gape lustfully
at Agent 700, as did all her male colleagues. He knew she had used some
devilishly cunning sexual techniques to trick the KGB boffin,
and he couldn't help wondering about the details.
“Um, off
the record, Agent 700, just exactly how did you manage it? I once met
“Sir! With all due respect, you should know that a field
operative never reveals their methods! Not even to someone such as yourself.”
Sir Spencer
cleared his throat. “Of course. Quite
correct, Agent 700.” Damn, he
thought. “Um, would you do me the honour of joining
me for dinner tonight?”
“I’d love
to, Sir, but I…I…ah…” The lovely agent’s features became positively orgasmic.
Sir Spencer raised an eyebrow as Sarah flung back her head. “AHH...AHH...AHHCHOOOOO!!!!
Oh dear…Excuse me. As I was saying, I’d love to, Sir, but the Russian climate
seems to have given me a really nasty cold.”
“God bless
you, Agent 700. Actually, you do look a bit peaky. I suppose you had better get
home to bed. Can’t be helped.”
“Thank you,
Sir."
He watched
her leave. Double damn! He’d have to get out his Bananarama
video tonight instead. His mind returned, not surprisingly, to the matter of
how she had made Doestokiev talk. He must have been a
tough nut to crack.
“I suppose
sometimes only a woman has a nose for these things,” he muttered to himself as
he opened a file and continued the laborious paperwork generated by the
superpowers' ceaseless espionage. Blast this Cold War! It was nothing to be
sneezed at.