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Fossy

Tribune
Well, we got past 2020, our Annus Horribilis - and so let me first of all wish you all a hopeful, happy and healthy 2021. For the past few months, I have been working on a new story (hopefully to become a series) about a young, female Russian spy in present day USA. I have attempted to build background in order to the set the scene as opposed to hitting the erotica head on, but there will always be a sexual undercurrent … have no doubts on that score. My intention is that our beautiful heroine (not Charlotte this time, she is taking a well-earned rest) will ‘enjoy’ a number of adventures, and although there will be a fundamental element of continuity, each adventure will stand-alone.

Ekaterina Novikova is an agent with Foreign Intelligence Service of the Russian Federation (SVR).

Name – Ekaterina Novikova aka Yulia Jelic

Hair – Blonde

Height – 5 feet 6 inches

Weight – 55kgs

Measurements – 34-26-34

Bio Pic.jpeg








She is 21 years old, a tall, beautiful girl who attended a Convent school, proving to be very intelligent and not a little troublesome for the nuns. She had enjoyed a very happy childhood with a stable family background. Ekaterina had lots of her own plans for the future but, being beautiful, free-spirited and fluent in English, Ekaterina was recruited by the SVR when she was only 18 years old, and when the SVR comes recruiting Ekaterina soon realised that you always say yes.

This thread is dedicated to the intriguing and dangerous tales of Ekaterina’s life with the service.

Tomorrow her first serialised adventure, ‘SWALLOW’S NEST’, will begin exclusively here in this thread, so make sure to join us then …

I have taken the liberty of tagging the following CF’ers because you have all either shown interest in supporting my previous works, or shared active CF role-play with me recently. I hope that you don’t mind.
@Barabbas @Barbaria1 @Beate @bkcharmer @bobinder @crumera @cruxlover @ctcua @ERIN the Brave @Eulalia @Eva Inanna @Gibbs505 @Heineudo @Jackie1111 @jacksjg89 @Jon Smithie @Kathy @Kuba @Madiosi @Marcella @messaline @MJMcHugh @montycrusto @nicole @old slave @Peony @phlebas @Puritan @Quiet Paul @RacingRodent @Rias @thehangingtree @toxidomaskjr @twonines @wildsouthman @windar @Wragg @StarbuckSlut @shredword @The Beast @thommorr @elephas @malins @fallenmystic @Loxuru @Harsh Martinet @RedOrc @Grab @firstout0 @bleater @Ozz @Boris Spider @Dalriada @TheLimey @KurvyKate @Vindex @piraland @fat slave girl @Praefectus Praetorio @Roberta
 

Fossy

Tribune
Swallow’s Nest (1)

As the old year became the New Year, and the snow lie thick on the ground, U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo visited Belarus for the first time in 26 years, to offer American aid after Russian decision to cut off energy supplies. Later in the same year, when the snow had cleared and given way to sunshine and flowers, Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Oleg Kravchenko was appointed the Belarusian Ambassador to America.

As the Belarusian elections drew near Russia intensified its efforts to turn the wheel once more and destroy the bridges that had been built between its border sharing neighbour Belarus and the Soviet’s eternal enemy, the United States of America. New infiltrators were surreptitiously sent into the States to seditiously spy and subvert …

Costa Coffee, F Street, Washington USA

He walked into Costa, the one on F Street North-West near to Ford’s Theatre, and ordered a macchiato. The July day was warm and pleasant and so he headed outside while they prepared his drink. He wasn’t used to such agreeable service … but the barista offered assurance that the drink would be brought out to him.

He sat at a table and stared blankly at the ten-storey office building being constructed across the road. There was an appetising aroma of deep fried something coming from somewhere, but he couldn’t work out what or where from. There was also a thick powdery smell of crushed concrete floating across from the construction site. Mixed with the diesel fumes from the yellow, black and orange cabs, he was feeling the beginnings of a headache. He needed the caffeine.

A pretty waitress in a tight fitting white ribbed sweater placed his macchiato in front of him. He took a sip and could see her looking at him as she cleared away coffee trash from one of the adjacent tables.

“Hangover cure?” she said, smiling at the man. Despite his best efforts he could not take his gaze away from the name badge fastened over her ample breast.

The way she spoke English was with a very familiar accent.

“Do I look like I’ve got a hangover?” He replied, with a slight smile. She was pretty and, though he knew that he shouldn’t, he liked the attention.

She laughed. “Yes actually, yes, you do.”

1 - Hangover Cure?.jpeg

She was blonde, somewhat statuesque and very pretty. Early-twenties. Long hair hanging loose, very white teeth and a lovely smile. Her giggling laugh was exquisite …

“You’re from Belarus?” he asked, believing that he had recognised the accent.

She looked amazed at his words.

“Hey Mister, that’s so cool! It’s incredible. No one ever can work out where it is that I am from. Have you been to there?”

“Yes. It is where I am from too.” He responded.

“Really?” She continued with her ‘amazed’ reaction. “Where, which town?”

“Minsk.” He replied.

“Wow! That’s amazing, and here we both are in Washington at the same time. I’m from Zhodzina.”

He nodded, “I know it. Very near to Minsk.”

“Yes. Hey.” She gives him a curious look. “Sorry for being so forward, but can I ask you out for a drink or something? I haven’t met anyone who’s even been to my country since I’ve been here, never mind another person who is actually from there.”

He knew that to encourage her offer was wrong, very wrong. But she was so pretty, no, not pretty … she was beautiful. And that laugh … the need to feed his ego overwhelmed him.

“Of course.” He replied with an accompanying smile.

She produced a pen and scribbled a mobile telephone number on a paper serviette.

“My name’s Yulia Jelic.”

He reached out and took her hand in his.

“Please to meet you, Yulia,” he glanced at her name tag and smiled, I’m Anatol. Anatol Radkov.”

She rolls her eyes. “Wow! I still can’t believe it.”

Anatol could not stop his smile from forming. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but it was more than her enthusiasm that he wanted form her. Damn she was gorgeous.

“Cool. You will call me, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“OK. Cool.” She laughed, “Sorry, I say cool quite a lot.”

Yulia walked back towards the entrance of the Pret. Just before she disappeared inside, she turned around to face him.

“Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.”

He took a sip of his coffee and watched a group of tourists walking towards theCostafrom across the road. They stopped as two of the younger kids broke away and started to point at the toy store that marked the very edge of Downtown.

Two Oriental girls, probably in their late teens, walked past and looked at him, giggling. As they moved away, one of them looked back over her shoulder at him and smiled.

Anatol knew that he was attractive. In his early thirties, he kept himself in shape and he had always managed to diffuse many a provocative situation with his smile. It was why he was so good at his job.

‘Hi, girls.’ He said in his head, letting his outward smirk do the talking for him.

A little while later, as he sipped the last drops of his coffee, he caught Yulia’s attention as she sashayed by and he asked her for a pastry in a takeaway bag. She was back with it in just a few minutes and then, much to his delight, she hung around to watch what he was doing as he took out his wallet to pay, but she held up her hand.

“It is free … Anatol, no charge.” The way she said his name indicated that she enjoyed saying it. He felt pleased … no, actually, he felt elated.

“Thank you, Yulia.” He replied with equal delectation.


To Be Continued …
 

bobinder

ARTISAN
“Hey Mister, that’s so cool! It’s incredible. No one ever can work out where it is that I am from. Have you been to there?”

“Yes. It is where I am from too.” He responded.
Is this the point at which they start conversing in Russian, or do they actually continue speaking in English?
Ekaterina is using her alias and I do not get the impression that she has given up her day job.
An intriguing start, Fossy. :)
 

Fossy

Tribune
Is this the point at which they start conversing in Russian, or do they actually continue speaking in English?
Ekaterina is using her alias and I do not get the impression that she has given up her day job.
An intriguing start, Fossy. :)
Thank you BB. In order to aid the flow I have kept the dialogue in English - occasionally it is broken by design in order to retain an element of linguistic authenticity via an accent, otherwise English will remain the spoken word of choice.
 

Fossy

Tribune
Swallow’s Nest (2)


SVR Headquarters, Moscow
, Russia

Despite being Summer, the weather outside was bleak. It always seemed to be bleak even in July. In the third-floor conference room at the SVR HQ in Moscow, Sergei Tretyakov found himself thinking of warmer places that he would rather be this time of year … Kaprino Bay or the Radisson at Zavidovo, where he and his family had spent a wonderful few days last Summer. But there would be no rounds of Summertime golf for Colonel Tretyakov just yet. PROJEKT AKTIV was making sure of that.

“So,” The Colonel brought himself out of his daytime reverie, “She has made contact, yes?”

The green uniformed man to his left looked up from gazing down at the polished table top against which they both stood.

“Yes Comrade Colonel, she has, and her apartment is being prepared for tomorrow evening.”

“Radkov suspects nothing?”

“No Comrade Colonel, he thinks he is on a date with a Belarusian Beauty, and so can hardly believe his luck, or so Miss Novikova would have us believe. She reports that she gave him her number and he had called her within the hour to arrange the rendezvous.”

Tretyakov grinned. “She is very clever, and having a Belarusian mother makes the girl ideal for this job.” He paused reflectively before adding with a satisfied intonation, “… and so now Radkov thinks this is all his idea.”

The Colonel had hand-picked Ekaterina Novikova from the Institute himself, knowing that she was always destined for success.

2 - Always destined - Ekat at the Institute.jpeg

She was suitably trained and expertly so, he had made sure to get first-hand experience of that fact before she was sent over to Washington. To say he thought of her as a daughter would be wrong on so many levels given what he had her ‘do’ for him, but he knew that she was destined for success and thought benevolently towards his young protégé, that was for sure.

“Good, that is very good, you may go …”

The Senior SVR Officer dismissed his subordinate and returned to his daytime dreaming of warmer places and an idyllic golf course.

High Street North West, Washington, DC, - 7:20pm

He arrived at the corner of High St NW and 6th at twenty past seven and stood in the shadows. This was across the road from the Momiji Restaurant and allowed him to see Yulia arriving for their seven-thirty date.

He had to be a little suspicious of her, he could not afford to trust anyone, and so he wanted to see if she arrived alone. He stared across at the door and the large glass frontage. The restaurant was her recommendation and so he was happy to go along with it. There was a door to the left of the Momiji, which seems to lead to a separate part of the building. He assumed it was the way upstairs into the second building story.

Actually, this would be quite a cool place to live, walking distance of Washington’s Chinatown and a few blocks from Ford’s Theatre. If you liked Chinese food and the theatre, spiced with a little history, you’d be in heaven. Very cool.

As those words entered Anatol’s head he smiled. Yulia said ‘cool’ a lot, or so she had said. As her smile came into his mind’s eye he began to relax. “You’re here to enjoy yourself Anatol, forget business just for a few hours,” he muttered to himself.

Across the street a group of three young guys walked by, all laughing at something and talking animatedly. They kept turning and glancing behind them, and one of them almost fell over his own feet. Anatol checked the time: seven twenty-five. Somehow, he just knew what they were staring at.

He was right. Yulia looked spectacular.

2a - She looked spectacular.jpeg

She was wearing a tight black, leather-look mini dress. This in itself would be outstanding enough, but from the top of her left thigh, where, incidentally the dress hemline stopped, there was a length of ever-widening lace that exposed her hidden nudity all the way to where the leather stopped to reveal her ample cleavage. The widest stretch of lace held the dress front apart clearly exposing the swell of her braless breasts and encouraged the suggestion that quite possibly Yulia wore absolutely nothing at all underneath this provocative garment! Would Anatol find out … with all thoughts of caution gone, he now hoped so more than ever.

He had no doubt that the sensual lattice work was the focus of those guy’s attention, and to complete the look, Yulia wore a pair of four-inch black heels. Ostentatious restaurant-wear for sure, but she looked a million dollars. She needed to hook this man, and Yulia knew that this dress on its own pretty much achieved her goal.

Anatol looked over the road, from left to right, and while several heads were turned looking at his gorgeous date, it didn’t seem as if she had any specific company, intentional or otherwise. Yulia approached the door and headed inside the restaurant.

He stood on the street for a little while longer, enabling him to see if anything or anyone caught his attention. Nothing. He crossed over the road, walked up to the door and exchanged a pleasantry or two with the doorman who stood to one side so that he could enter.


To Be Continued …
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Swallow’s Nest (1)

As the old year became the New Year, and the snow lie thick on the ground, U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo visited Belarus for the first time in 26 years, to offer American aid after Russian decision to cut off energy supplies. Later in the same year, when the snow had cleared and given way to sunshine and flowers, Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Oleg Kravchenko was appointed the Belarusian Ambassador to America.

As the Belarusian elections drew near Russia intensified its efforts to turn the wheel once more and destroy the bridges that had been built between its border sharing neighbour Belarus and the Soviet’s eternal enemy, the United States of America. New infiltrators were surreptitiously sent into the States to seditiously spy and subvert …

Costa Coffee, F Street, Washington USA

He walked into Costa, the one on F Street North-West near to Ford’s Theatre, and ordered a macchiato. The July day was warm and pleasant and so he headed outside while they prepared his drink. He wasn’t used to such agreeable service … but the barista offered assurance that the drink would be brought out to him.

He sat at a table and stared blankly at the ten-storey office building being constructed across the road. There was an appetising aroma of deep fried something coming from somewhere, but he couldn’t work out what or where from. There was also a thick powdery smell of crushed concrete floating across from the construction site. Mixed with the diesel fumes from the yellow, black and orange cabs, he was feeling the beginnings of a headache. He needed the caffeine.

A pretty waitress in a tight fitting white ribbed sweater placed his macchiato in front of him. He took a sip and could see her looking at him as she cleared away coffee trash from one of the adjacent tables.

“Hangover cure?” she said, smiling at the man. Despite his best efforts he could not take his gaze away from the name badge fastened over her ample breast.

The way she spoke English was with a very familiar accent.

“Do I look like I’ve got a hangover?” He replied, with a slight smile. She was pretty and, though he knew that he shouldn’t, he liked the attention.

She laughed. “Yes actually, yes, you do.”

View attachment 950118

She was blonde, somewhat statuesque and very pretty. Early-twenties. Long hair hanging loose, very white teeth and a lovely smile. Her giggling laugh was exquisite …

“You’re from Belarus?” he asked, believing that he had recognised the accent.

She looked amazed at his words.

“Hey Mister, that’s so cool! It’s incredible. No one ever can work out where it is that I am from. Have you been to there?”

“Yes. It is where I am from too.” He responded.

“Really?” She continued with her ‘amazed’ reaction. “Where, which town?”

“Minsk.” He replied.

“Wow! That’s amazing, and here we both are in Washington at the same time. I’m from Zhodzina.”

He nodded, “I know it. Very near to Minsk.”

“Yes. Hey.” She gives him a curious look. “Sorry for being so forward, but can I ask you out for a drink or something? I haven’t met anyone who’s even been to my country since I’ve been here, never mind another person who is actually from there.”

He knew that to encourage her offer was wrong, very wrong. But she was so pretty, no, not pretty … she was beautiful. And that laugh … the need to feed his ego overwhelmed him.

“Of course.” He replied with an accompanying smile.

She produced a pen and scribbled a mobile telephone number on a paper serviette.

“My name’s Yulia Jelic.”

He reached out and took her hand in his.

“Please to meet you, Yulia,” he glanced at her name tag and smiled, I’m Anatol. Anatol Radkov.”

She rolls her eyes. “Wow! I still can’t believe it.”

Anatol could not stop his smile from forming. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but it was more than her enthusiasm that he wanted form her. Damn she was gorgeous.

“Cool. You will call me, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“OK. Cool.” She laughed, “Sorry, I say cool quite a lot.”

Yulia walked back towards the entrance of the Pret. Just before she disappeared inside, she turned around to face him.

“Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.”

He took a sip of his coffee and watched a group of tourists walking towards theCostafrom across the road. They stopped as two of the younger kids broke away and started to point at the toy store that marked the very edge of Downtown.

Two Oriental girls, probably in their late teens, walked past and looked at him, giggling. As they moved away, one of them looked back over her shoulder at him and smiled.

Anatol knew that he was attractive. In his early thirties, he kept himself in shape and he had always managed to diffuse many a provocative situation with his smile. It was why he was so good at his job.

‘Hi, girls.’ He said in his head, letting his outward smirk do the talking for him.

A little while later, as he sipped the last drops of his coffee, he caught Yulia’s attention as she sashayed by and he asked her for a pastry in a takeaway bag. She was back with it in just a few minutes and then, much to his delight, she hung around to watch what he was doing as he took out his wallet to pay, but she held up her hand.

“It is free … Anatol, no charge.” The way she said his name indicated that she enjoyed saying it. He felt pleased … no, actually, he felt elated.

“Thank you, Yulia.” He replied with equal delectation.


To Be Continued …
A very intriguing (double meaning intended) start. I like not being overwhelmed with action and complexity. It allows me to dip my toe in the water and then wish to read more.
 
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