Sparrows Caught and Caged

NOTE: This is a work of original fiction. All names, circumstances, or situations herein are purely fictional. They are not based upon either real people, governments, organizations, places, or real events. Should any parallels to real circumstances be drawn, historical or otherwise, they are purely coincidental.

------------------------------------------------------

"[Y. A.], deputy of the KGB, [.....], was responsible for sex spy operations among the creative intelligentsia. He used [....] ballerinas, as well as cinema and theater actresses [....] to create a Sexpionage school."
---- This is an excerpt taken from the Wikipedia entry: "Sexpionage".

"If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself."
------ George Orwell, 1984.

......

Prologue

(continued from my previous story "Entrapment of a Sparrow")

"Ah. Ms. Petrova, please have a seat," said the man seated behind his desk. He partially stands up from his desk, in an attempt to make a chivalrous gesture showing deference towards this beautiful young woman despite his high rank. His hand makes a short sweeping motion that directs her to sit in the vacant chair just in front of his large mahogany desk.

"Thank you," the woman says elegantly, but with a noticeable tremble in her voice.

"Ms. Petrova...," he begins looking down and adjusting his sleeves, but then pauses, as if to take a different approach. With his head still slightly downward, his eyes look up at her, "May I call you Alexa?"

"Yes, of course, Sir Colonel," Alexa responds in her soft voice. She is seated with her back straight, projecting the air of refinement, carefully indoctrinated during many years of strict education in her youth. Also, her behavior was becoming of her post at the Foreign ministry.

"Excellent!", the Colonel said with an air of comradery. "Well then, let's get on with it... Shall we?".

The Colonel had graying hair, certainly in his late 50s. He has the demeanor of an experienced military officer, perhaps former KGB or from another military intelligence branch. He had a healthy and fit body for his age but was not excessively large. His eyes were gray and sharp, tucked tightly just below his thick black but graying eyebrows. He wore military attire of his rank that was fit perfectly to his frame. Rather than instilling a sense of ease with his cool and gentry-like mannerisms, they made Alexa quite uneasy.

Alexa gazed forward without changing her facial expression - stoic - like a good soldier. She was not military, but belonging to the Foreign ministry she had strict military-like training. During all this, she wondered why she was here. Perhaps, she was to be complimented on the job well done for her part in documenting intelligence in last month's diplomatic mission in Baku, Azerbaijan?

"Alexa," he started, "How long have you been with us?" posing a rhetorical question to which he was fully aware of the answer. "Now over 6 years, no?"

"Yes Sir Colonel," she answers, not knowing where this conversation is going.

"Yes, I know you do good work, and your station chief talks very highly of you," he says in a dry but somewhat relaxing congenial manner.

"Thank you, Sir Colonel."

"You are a very beautiful young woman, Alexa."

She had not expected this comment. She blushes and lets out involuntarily a short subtle gasp that turns into a frown that she quickly tries to control. Despite her efforts, she momentarily looks down to her hands, with a gesture of youthful shyness and embarrassment.

"I, umh...." she begins to muster, but then, as if remembering that she is not a schoolgirl, she rapidly composes herself again. She straightens her back and changes her facial expression to that of a stoic soldier.

"Thank you, Sir Colonel," looking straight ahead, not at his eyes, but as if looking at a distant point past him, as an obedient patriotic salute to his rank. No, as if she is the product of her country and it is her patriotic duty to serve fatherland and be proud, beautiful, and perfect.

He snaps his fingers, and one of the military officers on duty at the door brings over a large cardboard folder used to store documents. The soldier places it on the table in front of the Colonel, and leaves. The Colonel then takes out one of the folders from the box. He removes a gray covered document that is typical of the Intelligence unit with the formal seals of the agency. It has a large red "top secret" mark stamped over the cover. The document is many pages long and stapled at the top.

"Alexa. I have here a dossier." He lifted one of his brows slightly, "A rather interesting dossier, I should say," as he puts on his reading glasses at the end of his nose, and opens the first page to the contents.

Alexa cannot make out the contents or subject matter of the document. For a few moments, he acts to be reading so as refreshen his memory of its contents, but it is obvious that he knows what it portends. He then starts to flip page after page very quickly, simply scanning the text with his eyes but not reading. His facial expression does not change during this. At some point in the middle of the document he stops and lifts his eyes to meet hers.

"Do you have any idea what it could be about?" he said calmly without changing his facial expression.

"Why, no," she says, quizzingly, slightly raising her eyebrows and showing a genuine expression of puzzlement, almost worried. This was a curious question, she stammered to herself.

His expression does not change.

"No Sir Colonel. How would I know, Sir?" she answered with all sincerity.

He placed the document face down on his desk and reached into the box from which he removed a folder. It seemed to be filled with many large glossy photos, perhaps the size of A4 paper. It was clear that they were photos, but Alexa could not determine what.

The Colonel took the first photo in his hands to examine it, but still concealing it from Alexa. After a few moments without changing his facial expression, the Colonel placed it on the table for Alexa to see. It was a photo of two naked women in a lurid lesbian act. Their faces were not visible, but one was lying on a bed with her legs open while the other was licking her bald pussy.

The blood rushed from Alexa's face. She was in utter horror. Her gaze remained fixed on the photo. Her mind was in a frenzy. How? Why? It was as if her whole mind stopped. It was as if the universe fractured and time split.

Without lifting her head, the Colonel set another photo on top of the first. In this photo, Alexa's face and naked body were clearly visible. As in the first, the other woman's face was concealed. In the photo, Alexa's facial expression was that of pure ecstasy. The other woman was Kira even though her face could not be seen. The woman that Alexa had secretly fallen in love with.

While she stared at the photo in disbelief, the Colonel removed from the cardboard folder a recording device that looked like a small pen. He turned it on. The recording began with muddled voices. Then, Alexa could clearly discern her own voice.

"Lick my pussy, oh please! Please lick my pussy!" her voice called out.

After this, she could hear herself panting and pleading for more. Asking the men to fuck her harder. She heard herself have an orgasm. All the voices of the others were not on the tape, only hers. How could Kira betray her like this? She thought that she loved her. She thought they were intimate friends.

While the audio emitted the sounds of her sexual experience, reliving her sexual escapade with Kira and the two men, the Colonel placed photo after photo - in rapid succession - onto the growing stack in front of her. Each photo was of her in lurid sexual acts. The faces of the others never appeared in any of the photos. Only hers.

There was one of her licking the other woman's pussy, one with her eating the woman's pussy as she sat on her face, one photo with a man's cock entering her mouth that she knew to be Greg, one with an unknown man mounting her to fuck her she knew to be Dani, one photo with cum all over her face, and the last photo showed her with cum leaking from her pussy as she rubbed herself. He placed the last photo on the table of her in a transparent micro-bikini, with a note given as evidence as to how the prostitute obtained clients. During the time he placed photo after photo, the Colonel said nothing.

Her mind was in a frenzy. How could this be happening? This was all a manipulation of the facts. It was not true! She was not a prostitute. It wasn't like that. She shakes her head back and forth, indicating that it is not true.

"It is not true... it is not true," she repeats over and over again, in a broken whisper, fighting the tears that have now swelled in her eyes.

"Ms. Petrova," as you can see we are fully aware of your...uh-hum", purposefully stammering for theatrical effect, ".. shall we say, overactive sexual drive."

He continued, "Now as you know, many of these acts are illegal in themselves. Ms. Petrova, ours is a serious and conservative society. And, I must say, this agency doesn't permit such....well, behavior. It is,...unbecoming. Besides, there are laws against prostitution and homosexuality."

He stood up. He turned his gaze to the window, overlooked the courtyard briefly. He then turned to look at her again.

"Do you understand Ms. Petrova? The punishment is for several years in prison. And of course, your career here in the Ministry finished," he said as he sat down again.

She was totally flushed. Totally destroyed. She couldn't imagine what could be worse.

"Understand me, Ms. Petrova, if it were only your sexual "escapades", that was at issue," he paused then, ... well, you know ..., we could - perhaps, given your service to your country - look the other way," he said coyly, "turn a blind eye, ...as they say." He looked at her glaringly in the eyes with a cold heartless expression.

He shifted his position in the chair, and collected photos into a neat stack and pushed them aside. He reached into the box for a folder that was filled with documents. He then placed this on the table in front of her. He moved forward and opened the folder filled with looked to be bank transactions, official documents, receipts of transfers, and documents signed with her name and those of her husband.

"However," he began, "Embezzlement and stealing highly sensitive state secrets and selling them to our enemy?" he added inflection and then paused. "Well, Ms. Petrova, that is quite another thing. Do you understand me, Ms. Petrova?"

"But, Sir....I..."

He interrupted her and put on his reading glasses, "We have here receipts of transfer of 10M Euros from the Foreign office to a bank account in Dubai that belongs to a Sven M."

He removed his reading glasses and looked into her eyes. "Ms. Petrova, these are serious offenses. I hope you understand".

She was on the verge of crying.

"But, Sir..."

"How can you deny this?" he asked almost incredulously. He accelerated the pace of his accusations, which had an unnerving effect. "Ms. Petrova, this money was withdrawn by you. It required your approval with an eye scan and fingerprints," his voice quickened even more and raised in a more excited tone, placing evidence in rapid-fire succession against her. "Here is another transfer into your account from ...; and there is this .... , and another from....," the Colonel went on like this one after another.

During this barrage of what she knew to be fabricated evidence, she was silently sobbing, knowing full well what was happening. What they were doing. She simply didn't know why.

"No ... no... no, it is not true," she repeated shaking her head and sniffling. "Please Sir Colonel, please ... please don't do this to me! I beg you," she implored but in whispered underneath his talking. He continued to lay the evidence, during her futile denials.

He finally paused this rapidly heated monologue of accusations. During this whole time that he laid out the evidence, Alexa was shaking her head, her tearful eyes fighting.

"So you see, Ms. Petrova, your situation is very serious, indeed."

He continued with the evidence against her.

"The system shows that you accessed the state secrets documents with an eye scanning. There are photos (in which her face was not clearly visible) are of you removing the documents and giving them to your husband. There are photos of him giving them to a secret agent here Berlin whom we know works for the government of the United Emirates."

"Ms. Petrova, both you and your husband are in serious trouble with our government," he looked at her coldly and heartless for her situation.

Alexa's face was red and her eyes were swollen from her tears that she could not help.

"These charges of embezzlement carry a penalty of life in prison," he said looking at the embezzlement papers. "However this," he said pointing to the stolen secrets. "This is treason. The penalty, Ms. Petrova, is death." He looked up at her from the papers, "Do you understand Ms. Petrova? For you and your husband. There is no escape."

Her body was shaking nearly uncontrollably. How and why would they destroy her like this? What did she do to deserve this? She was in a state of complete panic.

At this moment, the military officer pushed aside all the documents on his large desk, leaving the area in front of her clean of papers and lurid photos. He placed his arms on the desk, outstretched, and clasped his hands together, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Now,..." he said in a calm voice, making a subtle sardonic smirk, but then returned to a serious demeanor. He paused, staring at her for several moments. The intention was to unnerve her. For her to have time to fathom the gravity of her predicament.

She did not commit these crimes. They were fabrications. But, she also knew that it didn't matter. It was futile to seek justice from them. The keys to law and justice were theirs to give and take for their purpose, at any moment, and from anybody.

After what seemed like several minutes, but was really only seconds, the Colonel continued to speak very slowly and in a relaxed, but a cold voice.

"We can make all this evidence disappear, Ms. Petrova," he paused again to heighten the impact of his next statement.

She cleared the mucus from her nose and looked at him with imploring eyes, seeking mercy.

"If ...," there was a long pause. "If, you are willing to cooperate."

Alexa tried to clear her throat. She raised her hand to her eyes, to wipe away some of her tears with the back of her hand. She held her head down as if looking at her hands, but not seeing anything.

These words from the Colonel fell hard on her. Very hard, indeed. She knew what could lurk behind such treatise.

Her innocence was of no importance. It was irrelevant. What mattered was what they wanted from her. What mattered was that she knew they could obtain it.

It was checkmate!

Cleaning the tears from her eyes, and making a stoic effort to compose herself as a valiant soldier. She sat up straight and slightly pushed her chest out. She looked straight ahead, as before, as if towards an abstract distance, without making eye contact with her accuser. With her commanding officer.

With all the courage she could muster, she responded to him with a defeated and capitulating voice.

"What is it that you want me to do, Sir Colonel?"

***********

1 Training a bird to fly

From that fateful moment in the Colonel office, Alexa had been "encouraged" to cooperate in the Program. During several weeks, Alexa had been undergoing conditioning in the "agency". Sven had thought that each day she was going to work as usual, to her typical job. In reality, she was in training in the agency's Sparrow Program. Each day, she was forced into innumerable sex acts. Innumerable humiliations. And in training to be a Mistress as well as a Sub; whatever and whenever the "agency" required.

The many details of her training shall be the subject of another story, my dear reader....

For now, we jump ahead to when Sven returns from his Dubai trip, where he was overseeing the start of a hotel. A very interesting hotel. One that the "agency" will use to its full advantage with their collection of beautiful little birds.

We are getting ahead of ourselves. For now, all you need to know is our something about our next little bird and how he ends up flying into his birdcage.

Are you ready, dear reader? I hope so. Here we go.

********

2 A birdcage for a little swallow

Four weeks have passed and Sven had finally returned home. Alexa went and picked him up at the airport. After all of their online "games", even though it was his wife, he was a bit apprehensive and didn't know what to expect. He wasn't sure if their relationship had changed or it was simply because they had been so far apart. Maybe they would be more intimate.

On the ride back home, his fears were allayed since their relationship seemed like it always had been. She was her typical kind, loving and compassionate self to him. She listened to the details of his trip with interest and had long conversations.

When they finally arrived home, Sven brought his suitcases into the house. Before unpacking, they decided to have something glass of wine in order to settle in and celebrate his arrival back home.

When they entered the kitchen, there was a wrapped gift box on the dining room table addressed to Sven. He gave her a kiss.

"Oh Alexa, you didn't have to give me a gift."

"Your welcome, honey. You know how much I love you and miss you." After a brief pause, while he grabbed for the box, she said coyly with a suspicious grin, "But, before you thank me, let's see if you like it first."

"I am sure I will."

"Wait. Before you open it, let's first have that glass of wine," Alexa said, grabbing his hands affectionately, and bringing him into the living room.

After they poured their glasses, she made a toast. "For being back home. I missed you so much," she said. "And to a new life together."

He wasn't too sure what she meant by the last comment, but they drank anyway. They sat on the couch and continued talking. He told her about the hotel project, and she listened genuinely interested and enjoying the different anecdotes of life in Dubai. Before long they had already almost finished the bottle.

"Well, aren't you going to open your gift?" she asked.

He got up, and as a little kid, he started to undo the wrapping. It was a pure white box, but just underneath the wrapping there was a large white envelope, with the letters, stating "Open first." He loved how she was so mysterious and thoughtful!

When he opened the card, he was immediately perplexed and then shocked. Inside was a formal letter, drafted in a calligraphy script, with the large words at the top:

A Contract for Feminized Sissy Slave.

He looked up at her with a look of disbelief.

She remained composed with a smile, hiding the true nervousness that she actually felt. Coaxing him, as if he were reading the results of a prize, instead of a slave contract, she tugged on his arm affectionately.

"Well, aren't you going read more, silly?" she said with a loving smile.

He looked down at the contract, and with his hands beginning to tremble, began to read:

-----------------------------xxxxx ---------------------

AGREEMENT: (legal binding contract for sissy feminized slave)

I SVEN Miers (M.), submit, of my own free will, to my wife and Mistress ALEXA PETROVA., and agree to the following terms and conditions as stated in this slave contract.

1) I am the subject and the property of my Mistress Alexa

2) I agree to cede my whole being to my Mistress Alexa