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Sexpionage ...

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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
They had provided her with ‘cover’ as a stripper, and she could imagine the grins on the faces of her colleagues at the Centre as they were establishing her ID and backstory.
Sorry, Fossy. You've lost me as a reader! Her handlers must be morons. This is totally unbelievable as a plot device!

Who could ever accept a story with Yulia as a stripper?
But, she reasoned, existing as a disreputable dancer might mean that she would stand less chance of being discovered for who she really was.
But Yulia could never be a disreputable dancer - damn sexy, yes, but disreputable? Never!
recalling where in her brief it had described the brutality of the torture that she may encounter if she was discovered.
OMG. We have to pray that never happens! :icon_popcorn:
Yulia laughed, “Yes I’m trained as a dancer, but what you really mean is can I take my clothes off while I’m doing it?”

Enrique nodded.

“I guess we’ll find out tonight.” Yulia replied.
I realize the others already know - but I can't wait to find out!:babeando:

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
amazed and awed at her physical strength and seductiveness as she slowly lowered herself to the stage as the song ended.
As was I! Again :babeando::babeando:
She was well trained and soon discovered that lap dancing and stripping was just another form what she was trained to do.
We need more of those trainers around! Was @Jackie1111 trained by them?
Even from his angle Valdez could tell Yulia was turned on. When the guy held up a finger to his and his buddies' noses, Valdez could see it glistening with Yulia’s juices – he had to have her!
Valdez wasn't alone! :babeando::babeando::babeando:

Very hot episode, Fossy! Excellent description of the strip! Reminds me of my younger days watching the Canadian National Ballet in Fort Erie, Ontario. Those bi-lingual strippers were so talented!:naughty:

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
But when it came, there was no knock, the door was simply kicked in. A scream was all she had time for as the bag was thrust over her head and Yulia was bundled out of the building … the cyanide pill was still in its small metal tin by her bedside.
No! No! Just as I feared! And without her pill! No! :rolleyes:
“You move this way little Puta, now it is time for us to begin again.”
Please not! :babeando::icon_popcorn::very_hot::babeando::icon_popcorn::clapping:

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
She wasn't a good liar at all.
That's strange. Most of the strippers I've known are excellent liers. "You are the most handsome man, I've ever met! I'd love to give you a private lapdance for free - but my boss won't allow, ne sais pas!":oops:
But the effect of her pulling the cotton fabric over her head to expose her fully naked body underneath was a statement on the part of Valdez and one that was compelling in its eroticism to every last man in the room … and there were six of them.
Not to mention several more here on CF!:clapping:
"Yes, please, Valdez, very much so."
Teacher's Pet! I had my hand up first!:neng2kb:
“Call Manuel, it’s time to move the interrogation up a gear.”
No! God forbid, No! :icon_popcorn:
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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Experienced in these matters, he would begin on her stomach building up to the breasts, so that he could savour her agony. Unlike the thin leather whips that could rip the flesh, this implement with the wider surface would impart a bitter sting without breaking the fragile skin. There were several small holes drilled through the savage length, and so not only would it fly faster through the air, increasing the impact of every blow, the gaps would cause small painful blood blisters to rise up on Yulia’s nubile body.
Wonderful description. Suitably evil instrument!:devil-flip:
He usually spent more time on the anticipation of his lashes, but the girl's bare breasts were just too inviting to delay any longer.
Who can blame him!:very_hot:

A fine episode.

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
But all that was in her mind was to buy Enrique and his contacts another 24 hours to move elsewhere. They would know she couldn’t hold our forever. Yulia believed that just a little longer and they would be safe …
It's amazing after the way Yulia has been treated by her handlers and colleagues, that she still endures unimaginable pain to protect them!
So, relax, my pretty pussy. I won't torture you to death today.
That's a relief. I was hoping he would be able to torture her for several days before killing her! :icon_popcorn:
Yulia knew that her ordeal was far from over!
We can hope.:clapping:

Keep up the good work.


Sexpionage in the Archive

I have taken the time during this short break from the series to compile to full stories and have them posted in the archive. Thanks to @Madiosi for his expedient work in posting them live. If you get chance please take a look. The actual links are below;

Swallow’s Nest - Sexpionage 1

A Friendly Hell - Sexpionage 2

Blowback - Sexpionage 3

An Interrogation Enhanced - Sexpionage 4

Infiltration - Sexpionage 5

A Suffusion of Yellow - Sexpionage 6

Tea Time of the Soul - Sexpionage 7
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It is almost two weeks (in real time - potentially many months in 'Sexpionage' time) since we saw SVR Agent Ekaterina Novikova, aka Yulia Jelic, rescued from the brutal clutches of the Chilean Terrorists known as 'A Suffusion of Yellow'. But what became of her? We know that she was cared for but was she passed fit for duty once more, or did her nightmare experience in the dungeons of the Villa Grimaldi break her for good?

Find out next week by joining us here on Monday where the serialisation of 'Sensual Siren', the next part in the adventures of Agent Novikova, will begin ...




For those of you that wish to continue following the exploits of our gorgeous SVT Agent, Ekaterina Novikova, aka Yulia Jelic, then join us here tomorrow for the serialisation of "Sensual Siren".

Here is, what is hopefully, an appetite wetting excerpt from tomorrow's instalment ...

“Take off your clothes.”

The girl stood staring, glassy eyed, disbelieving almost …

“Agent Novikova, do you wish to serve your country?”

“Yes, Comrade Colonel.”

“Then remove your clothes.”

With a resigned sigh Ekaterina took hold of the grey SVR sweat top and pulled it over her head.

Colonel Tretykov nodded. The rest needed to follow.

Sexpionage is back.jpeg



Sensual Siren (1)

An SVR Facility somewhere in Moscow

“Take off your clothes.”

The girl stood staring, glassy eyed, disbelieving almost …

“Agent Novikova, do you wish to serve your country?”

“Yes, Comrade Colonel.”

“Then remove your clothes.”

With a resigned sigh Ekaterina took hold of the grey SVR sweat top and pulled it over her head.

Colonel Tretykov nodded. The rest needed to follow.

With a barely discernible gulp, the girl pulled at the matching, shapeless bottoms until they slipped down her legs allowing her to kick them off. Topless she placed her arm across her nudity, hiding the scars that now adorned her body along with the erect state of her nipples.

Still the Comrade Colonel stared at her.

With her gaze downcast, Ekaterina hooked fingers into either side of the thin waistband of her State issued panties and slid them down over her slender thighs.

Looking around the circle of chairs that surrounded her, the naked Agent saw familiar faces. Uniformed men … the Comrade Colonel, Comrade Captain Andreytov, Comrade General Belshev – they were all here waiting expectantly.

“Please …” was all the naked Agent could muster. The word was lacking in clarity but her intonation implied that she meant ‘please don’t do this’.

“The first one if you will Agent.”

It took Ekaterina only three paces before she was positioned between the elderly Comrade General’s open thighs. A nod from him, number one, prompted her to fall to her knees in submission. Trembling fingers worked at his zipper until she was able to grip his flaccid shaft.

Knowing that she shouldn’t, but unable to stop herself, Ekaterina turned to look at her one-time mentor, Colonel Tretykov, but all she saw was an earnest expression and a demeanour that said, ‘continue’.

Choking back a slight whimper, Ekaterina knew that this was all she was now good for. An R and R girl serving the Motherland, an SVR whore …

The room filled with eager candidates for her services stared at her naked body. The scars on her back were evident for all to see, reminders of her time in the Cells of Santiago’s worst torture house. Similar light hued, welted markings adorned her breasts, thighs and pubic mound …

She looked at the penis in her hand, and could see, as well as feel, the life infusing its girth. Slowly but very surely it hardened as the erection developed.

“Сделай это”, ‘do it’, came the simple unambiguous words.

With a resigned reluctance Ekaterina moved her mouth to the swollen head. As she let the smooth, glistening flesh slip between her soft, undamaged lips she heard a chuckle which became a cackle before turning quickly into full blown laughter …

“Suck my cock you filthy fucking whore, it’s all you’re good for …”

It was Manuel Contreras’ knees that she was now kneeling between, the dead terrorist who plagued her dreams turning them into nightmares.

“Take me deep bitch!”

As Ekaterina felt her hair gripped and her throat filled, she awoke with a start!

Slowly reality dawned, and, as her vision became adjusted to the darkness of the room, she gradually calmed her desperate breathing, relaxed and flopped her head back down onto the pillow with a groan …

01a - Dreaming.jpg

The Реабилитационный центр – SVR (SVR Rehabilitation Centre), Central Moscow.

It had been six months since SVR Agent Ekaterina Novikova was rescued from the horrors inflicted upon her at the Villa Grimaldi, the resurrected home of the Terrorist Group known as ‘A Suffusion of Yellow’. Long enough for her to stop sobbing every day, but not so long that she had been fully pieced back together.

Kat had done the rounds of several hospitals whilst her needs were medical in a physical sense, and one by one the skill of the surgeons and doctors and the care of the nursing staff repaired her broken body. But once her needs had become psychological then she had been transferred to an SVR Care facility where the powers-that-be could keep more than one eye on her.

The location was more than acceptable, on the banks of the Moskva River at the edge of the City Centre. The ‘Managed’ Apartment they had provided for her was a small two-room shell, with a sitting room, an attached kitchen with curtained lavatory, and a tiny bedroom. The carpet was threadbare, the wallpaper faded and bubbled with age. A battered teapot on a single-element propane stove was too old to whistle. It was small and dingy, but a Moscow apartment of any sort, not shared with relatives or work colleagues, was still a sought after luxury.

Another aspect of her sojourn here was that the walls, ceilings, and fixtures were peppered with lenses and microphones. The entire block of living quarters consisted of nothing but SVR-controlled units. The energy needs to keep the monitoring going was huge and sometimes, late at night, she could hear the transformers humming in the basement.

But it all meant that Kat had nothing to think about other than getting through life one day at a time. She knew not what the future held, and quite frankly had no mind to even think about it. Her meds and supervision were tightly controlled and slowly but surely, she could feel a semblance of normality returning to her demeanour, and for that she was very grateful.

01b - Plagued by thoughts of the Villa Grimaldi.jpeg

Kat’s mind was plagued by thoughts of the Villa Grimaldi, in her bed, sitting in a chair in the living room or while she washed bedsheets sour from the secretive poison that was still oozing from parts of her body. Often, she would back herself into the hall closet and close the door on, simply to stand wedged in the dark and try to relive her time incarcerated inside the small, dark, damp Santiago cells. Then she would enjoy the pleasure of knowing she could come out into the light whenever she liked.

Kat tied her wrists together with bindings, anything she could find. Stockings, curtain ties, old rope … and strained the knots tight with her teeth, to feel her pulse swell. Sometimes she needed this and the re-enactment of her captivity made her thighs moisten … it scared her, but to do it was compelling, addictive almost.

After all the edgy urges left her, she cried silently, tears wetting her cheeks. Kat sat on the wooden floor and stretched, lifted her legs until her stomach screamed, and pushed up from the floor until her arms shook.

She stood in the bath alone, touching the marks as they gradually faded, watching herself heal. Kat nodded to herself in the mirror. She was getting better, and with the feeling of redemption came a red fury, repetitively welling up around her. It was a deep rage, one that could be controlled, one that would last, one upon which she would have to feed if she was resurrect her career.

When the buzzer on her door sounded Kat looked at the clock and smiled. Midday, it was time for her daily session with Doctor Belshev, one of the resident Psycho-Analysts. She didn’t much care for him, especially when his questions and so-called counselling, focused in on the horrors she had experienced at the hands of those Chilean bastards. He excused his need for detail by hiding behind his professional capacity – ‘The more I know the more I can help you –‘, he said. Yeah right!

Kat knew that Belshev was simply getting his rocks off by having her give such lurid descriptions of her incarceration …

With a sigh she moved to the door, but when she opened it, she was taken aback. Instead of the low-level orderly who would ordinarily appear to take her to her session, today she was faced by a senior officer and two flanking guards. The sight of such relative power shocked her.

“Comrade Captain, what …?” was all she could say. It was all she needed to say, because the rest of the sentence was completed for her.

“Agent Novikova you are to accompany us to the Assessment Centre.”

“But it’s the time I have my session with Doctor Belshev, I have it every day at …”

“Not today Agent. Today you will come with us.”

Psycho-Analytical Suite - SVR (SVR Rehabilitation Centre), Central Moscow.

The small group of senior SVR officers gathered before the large window and, as one, peered through the glass. In the room before them was a girl, a very beautiful girl, and she had been strapped into a chair.

On her head was a helmet-like structure that consisted of wires, electrodes and circuits held together by a fibre-glass frame. Black sticky sensor pads were attached to her temples, chest and inner thighs, each one with a thin cable slipped inside the material of her SVR sweats to attach to her skin, before running back to a monitoring station. A large set of Virtual Reality goggles with ear pad extensions monopolised her hearing and vision, sealing Kat off completely from the real world.

“So, explain Doctor …” Doctor Belshev was amongst the group, evident by his long white coat which contrasted against the darker SVR uniforms of the officers.

“Comrade Colonel …” Tretykov had made the journey from the Centre to assess the condition of his one-time prodigy for himself. Belshev continued. “… Agent Novikova is strapped into the VR seat so that we can carry out the required tests.”

Tretykov nodded, but his expression demanded that the Doctor go further with his narrative.

“… when we begin the programme, she will be immersed in the Virtual Reality of whatever scene we wish to place her, and in the surroundings of our choice. We will begin by having her seduced in a sensual, loving manner so that we can see her response on the Analysis terminal just here.” All heads turned towards screen that contained moving charts, lines and blocks.

“And this display screen here tells us what Doctor?”

“We can see how stimulated Agent Novikova becomes, whether she reaches climax at all, her rates of breathing and stress …”

“Good, good and so we can assess her overall response to such a situation?”

“Yes, Comrade Colonel that is exactly right. And then, once we have the data we require from that scene, we will switch to something altogether more … how shall we say, domineering and disciplined so that we can collect the same data from the second scenario for comparison.”

Colonel Tretykov turned to his colleagues with a smile, before addressing Belshev once again. “That is good Doctor, precisely the reason we are all here. Please proceed.”

To Be Continued …
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