The Interpreter Ch. 04

Chapter Four -- Toast and Marmalade

Plaza Hotel, Midtown Manhattan, New York City -- July 1985 -- Day Three of the Convention

Valerie attended the morning and afternoon academic seminars with Professor Mikhail Blavatsky. They ate lunch with the academic contingent and Mikhail had very little opportunity to fondle Valerie so he didn't try.

Mikhail was still stunned by what he had seen the previous evening. The beautiful young interpreter assigned to him was not what she appeared. She had all of the trappings of a pretty girl with her long legs, a great ass, perky tits and a beautiful face but she had the genitalia of a man.

Mikhail had thought long and deep about it overnight. He was a distinguished professor so he was no idiot. He had soon figured out what Valerie was all about or at least he thought he had. Petra Donevski had told Mikhail about how she was going to be used as a honey trap at the Convention by the KGB to ensnare unwitting American men and blackmail them into spying. One of Petra's favourite pastimes was to taunt Mikhail with lurid details as to how she intended to seduce these strangers.

It was obvious to Mikhail that Valerie had been sent on the same mission but her being a transwoman made blackmail more conclusive and inescapable. A wayward husband could fall on his sword and admit that he had been seduced by a beautiful young woman, but when that woman had a cock and balls the wife would be less likely to forgive him and government agencies, especially the military would never forgive him and would drum the gullible fool out of the military or lock him up.

This thing! This violation of nature had taken the place of his beloved Petra. Petra who was beautiful, intelligent and quick witted and always wore those shiny, silky nylons on her long legs that drove Mikhail wild. Petra, who had been cast aside and killed when a better instrument for blackmail had come along. And even worse... he knew that Petra only let Mikhail make love to her to keep him on a leash but this beautiful young transvestite was off limits to him and was treated better than he was by her KGB masters.

But now he knew her secret. What could she do if he fucked her? She had to keep her dirty little secret confidential or else she was useless. If she ran to Yuri Godekin and told him that Mikhail knew her secret she was likely to be punished for giving away her reason for being. Besides, she was a gorgeous young ingénue who Mikhail ached to possess. Why should the fact that she only had one hole between her legs prevent him from using her? It would be the spoiled little transvestite's turn to feel humiliated. Fucking Valerie would not only sake Mikhail's lust; the pleasure he got from debasing her would be priceless. He would have his revenge!

He just needed to pick the right time and the right place.

"Valerie, you have no, shall we say -- extracurricular activities this evening," Mikhail had been uncharacteristically pleasant all day.

"No. I am free to attend the dinner being hosted by the Georgetown University faculty this evening," Valerie replied.

"It is imperative that I continue to present myself as your interpreter and aide throughout the convention, as you know Professor," Valerie added.

Mikhail bristled at Valerie's condescending tone but outwardly he just smiled at her with his yellowed teeth.

"I need to spend some time with Comrade Godekin but I will be ready in plenty of time for the dinner," Valerie smiled at Mikhail and he nodded curtly.

"I'll see you in the lobby at seven," Mikhail stood aside and allowed Valerie to exit the elevator ahead of him.

Valerie was wearing a charcoal skirt-suit and Mikhail's eyes locked on her buttocks and her legs and he inhaled the scent of her perfume that she left trailing behind her. He became semi-tumescent, even though he knew that under that skirt she hid a secret. How could something so beautiful, feminine and sensually provocative be such an abomination? Mikhail had noticed that most of the men attending today's seminars had gawked at Valerie and most of the women seemed more than a little jealous of her when they first met her.

Of course Valerie had been nothing but congenial and had flirted just a little with the men and garnered friendships with the women. She had spent most of the day dutifully interpreting for Mikhail and tending to his needs; anticipating when he might need an academic position paper, a finding or a reference source. She attended to him almost like a faithful servant but all that did was incite Mikhail further. She was what did the Americans say -- Goody Two Shoes, too pretty and too attentive to be credible as far as he was concerned. It was all a charade and he hated her for it.

Valerie ordered coffee when she got to her room. She kicked off her heels and massaged her feet. There was a runner in the heel of her pantyhose and they would need to be replaced. She marvelled at the decadence she had come to accept as commonplace. Not that long ago she would have been thrilled to own pantyhose like these and she would have carefully darned the ladder and coated it with clear nailpolish to stop it from running. Now she was prepared to toss them away and simply open a new package.

She looked at her red-lacquered toenails looking for the culprit: a hangnail or a burr, but she couldn't find one.

Room service arrived at the same time as Yuri Godekin who sat patiently while the valet poured coffee. He tipped the valet the equivalent of two day's pay for a Soviet proletariat and waited for her to leave before he spoke.

"A productive day Comrade?" Yuri put cream into the two cups of coffee and offered one to Valerie.

Valerie blew the bangs out of her eyes and smiled wanly.

"Very. Professor Mikhail Blavatsky was pleasant enough and I didn't have to keep slapping his hand away from under my skirt," Valerie sipped her coffee, leaving a red lipstick imprint on the rim.

"Glad to hear our academic illuminatus has finally got the message. Did you study the file I left you?" Yuri looked at Valerie over his coffee cup; she looked tired but still stunningly beautiful.

"Dexter Folger, advisor to several Senate committees, in particular the Congressional Oversight Committee. Secretly has a penchant for cocaine and high-class callgirls," Valerie summarised the contents of the file in one sentence.

"Tomorrow night he is hosting a dinner for select delegates and we have manipulated the guest list to include Professor Mikhail Blavatsky and of course his interpreter," Yuri nodded.

"This fish might not be so easy to catch. He is staying in the Plaza overnight but he is unlikely to accept an invitation to your room. We suggest that you do what you do so well and encourage Mister Folger to invite you up to his room. He will be more comfortable with such an arrangement I'm sure," Yuri put down his cup and poured more coffee but Valerie declined.

"As you say sir, I'm to do what I do so well," Valerie sighed.

"That's what you here for Valerie," Yuri patted her knee, his fingers lingered a little longer than would be considered polite.

Valerie put her fingers over his and leaned into him, her lips almost touching his earlobe.

"I will do my duty Comrade," she whispered and stroked the back of Yuri's hand softly with the tips of her manicured fingernails.

Then she took his hand in hers and firmly removed it from her knee.

Yuri blushed and stood up, adjusting the fall of his jacket to hide his semi-tumescence.

"Enjoy your evening Comrade Sokolova. I will drop by just before midnight to inform you of any updates. Re-familiarise with the Minox. Put in fresh film and make sure the auto-advance and timer are functioning correctly," Yuri said curtly.

"Don't get up; I'll see myself out," Yuri about-turned with almost military precision and walked to the door and let himself out.

Valerie attended to her toilette which had become a routine regimen, a morning and evening ritual ingrained into her at Novogorbovo. Shave (although she had very little facial or body hair), brush her teeth and use mouthwash, douche until the water runs clear, shower, fix hair and makeup, dress and accessorise. This evening she settled on a little black cocktail dress. She tucked and taped because the dress was so short and she was not expected to have sex. As usual she wore her panties over pantyhose: black glossy fifteen denier sheer black nylons and bold red satin panties. She knew that she should really wear black panties but she decided to give anyone who deemed to look up her dress a thrill. It was her way of being a little rebellious.

The dinner was a boring affair but Valerie played her role, sitting beside Professor Blavatsky, embellishing his stories to make him sound witty, enduring the leers of old men and the spiteful looks of their wives and partners. She was glad that the dinner was over early at nine-thirty. The edict that the Soviet delegates were not to leave the hotel meant that the dinner was held in one of the many private dining suites in The Plaza.

Professor Blavatsky behaved himself again but he drank heavily and spent most of the night taking furtive glances at the red V of Valerie's panties because her hem refused to stay put and kept riding up her glossy nylons.

Mikhail once again let Valerie precede him out of the elevator and he watched her walk to room 525, his head swirling with drunken lust.

Valerie had not even had time to take off her heels when she heard a knock on her door. She guessed that it was Yuri Godekin and she was thankful that they could conclude their business early and she could go to bed. She too had been a little overindulgent with the champagne.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Mikhail Blavatsky standing there instead of Yuri.

"May I come in briefly, there are just a few points I want to discuss with you about tomorrow's program," he gave her his best smile.

Valerie was not really in the mood but she couldn't go to bed until after Yuri's final briefing anyway so she swung the door open and turned her back on Mikhail to let him know that she had only let him in begrudgingly.

Valerie was stunned when Mikhail kicked the door closed and propelled her into the room, pushing her in the back, making her stagger on her high heels.

"Get in the bedroom you whore!" Mikhail hissed, pushing her though the door leading to her bedroom.

She fell on the bed and Mikhail jumped on top of her, pinning her down. He might be a gangly old man with a pot belly but he was far stronger than Valerie and she struggled beneath him, whimpering with frustration when she couldn't fight him off.

He punched her once in the ribs and knocked the air out of her.

"Shut up and stop struggling you transvestite whore," Mikhail hissed into her ear.

Valerie froze when she heard the word transvestite.

"Yes, I know your dirty little secret. You will be useless to Comrades Petrov and Godekin if I expose you. You will be of no further use to them and they will dispose of you as they disposed of my Petra," he growled.

"They will dispose of you too!" Valerie said petulantly and hated the sound of her whiny powerless voice.

"Don't be stupid you shlyukha. I am a preeminent academic and if anything was to happen to me it would raise brows in the hallowed halls of the Party room. Even the KGB are not immune from oversight under General Secretary Gorbachev's newly revised Communist Party. The KGB has only limited freedom to act as they wish," Mikhail sounded like he was lecturing a student.

In fact Mikhail Blavatsky was bluffing but he sounded convincing and Valerie was terrified because he knew her secret.

Lying on top of Valerie Mikhail had already become erect, feeling her body beneath him; her buttocks pressing into his groin, her pretty face inches from his; the feel of her body and the smell of her perfume were overwhelming.

"What do you want?" Valerie spat into the pillow, already stained by her colourful makeup.

"You know what I want. I've made it quite clear. Of course I didn't know that you were a transvestite before; but now that I do it changes nothing," Mikhail felt Valerie relax and used the opportunity to flip her over on her back so that she was facing him.

"No!" Valerie cried.

"You deny me what you give away so freely to the Americans and God knows who else!" Mikhail slapped Valerie across the face.

"Not my face Comrade Professor. You can't mark my face!" Valerie cried.

Valerie might be in the direst of situations but she knew that no matter what happened she needed to keep her pretty face unmarked for her to be an effective operative.

"Ok, I won't mark your face. But I need you to cooperate," Mikhail knew that he had Valerie's full compliance if she was still worried about her looks.

Valerie issued a sigh of relief and that angered Mikhail. He tore open the top of Valerie's dress and pulled her breasts from her brassiere and twisted a nipple cruelly.

"But there is nothing to stop me hurting you elsewhere," Mikhail growled.

Valerie stifled a scream.

"I've told you what I want. Give it up and your secret remains safe with me. Comrade Godekin need not know that I know about you," Mikhail leered at Valerie and twisted her nipple again.

"Of course Professor; just don't hurt me," Valerie surrendered.

Mikhail ripped off his shirt and lowered his face to Valerie's and she turned away. Mikhail punched her in the ribs again and Valerie grunted and turned to face him. He looked down into her beautiful face, if anything made more beautiful by her smeared makeup. It made her look vulnerable... fuckable.

He put his liver-lips on her plump lipsticked lips and kissed her. Valerie did not respond but she did not turn away either. She simply surrendered and allowed Mikhail to ravish her. He unzipped his fly and Valerie felt his cock pressing into her belly through the slinky material of her cocktail dress. His cock was hot and pulsing and alive and felt as evil and terrifying as the Professor himself.

Mikhail rubbed himself against Valerie, crushing her lips with his, pawing at her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she winced but he was astute enough to realise that her ripe berry-like nipples had hardened and he attempted to thrust his tongue into her mouth, slapping her face when she refused to open her lips. Valerie whined and complied.

"Not my face!" she whimpered again as she opened her mouth wide and allowed Mikhail to slide his slithering eel-like tongue into her mouth.

He covered her mouth with his and waggled his tongue whilst still molesting her breasts and rubbing his rampant cock on her belly. Valerie felt helpless and debased.

But she also felt something else. She felt that she deserved it.

She was a whore, a slattern, a transvestite, an abomination of nature that no man could ever love. She had been fabricated and trained to be a common harlot, to entice men into her bed and lead them to their doom. She knew the effect that she had been having on Professor Blavatsky and she had done nothing but tease him and provoke him and now she was getting what she deserved.

She might as well use her skills to give him what he wanted; the sooner the better. Let him use her as a vessel for his lust and send the repugnant man away satisfied and he would leave her alone. At least until next time.

Valerie offered Mikhail her tongue and he smiled around his lewd wet kisses. The bitch had given in! But he would not make it easy for her.

Valerie put her arms around Mikhail and lifted her legs so that her nylon-sheathed thighs pressed on his pale skin. She knew that men liked the feel of soft silky stockings caressing their flesh. She got the result she wanted when the Professor began to hump her belly faster and his tongue wriggled in her mouth. Could she make him come this way?

No.

The Professor was wise to Valerie's ruse. Petra Donevski had used similar tactics when she wanted to make him come without entering her but with this transvestite whore he would have none of it.

Just when Valerie thought that she would be able to escape any further intimacy with the Professor he rolled off her and lay back with his head on the pillows and entwined his bony fingers in Valerie's head and dragged her face to his groin. His gnarly cock stood erect, poking out of his flies. Valerie swallowed her bile and lowered her mouth to it. Best to get it over with. She was an accomplished fellatrix and she knew that she could make him blow his load quickly.

Mikhail slapped her face again.

"Undo my trousers you useless bitch, I want you to suck my balls," he shook Valerie's head, holding her by the roots of her hair, making her feel a little dizzy.

She unbuckled Mikhail's belt and opened his pants. Although he had showered before dinner he had been sweating all evening and the reek from his groin was bilious, made worse by his cloying cheap cologne. Valerie took a deep breath and lowered her face to his pubis and lapped at his furry scrotum which was covered in grey wiry hairs. She began to gag but she used her tongue to slurp up the sweat and swallowed it until his ballsack was clean enough for her to suckle without gagging.

"Be careful you bitch... oh my god!" Mikhail moaned as Valerie expertly took his scrotum in her mouth and softly suckled it whilst using the tip of her tongue to tease his testes.

Mikhail pawed at Valerie's breasts while she suckled his balls. He tweaked her nipples and fondled her baps and Valerie suddenly became aware that she liked what the Professor was doing to her. The self-loathing, shame and humiliation that she instilled in herself fostered a mindset that she deserved to be used this way and that thinking somehow dissolved her revulsion. She was getting what she deserved so she might as well enjoy it.

No! She couldn't think that way surely? Her face still stung from Mikhail's blows, her ribs ached from his punches. She would not take a scintilla of pleasure from what he was forcing her to do.

But her body betrayed her. She sensed Mikhail's hard penis looming over her face as she sucked his scrotum. She opened her eyes and saw his nodulous manhood, painfully erect, pre-ejaculate running freely from the eye and down the throbbing shaft.

She engulfed it and sucked it, swallowing the sweet nectar of his pre-seminal fluid which washed away the lingering fetid taste of his ballsack. She heard him moan and his fingers twisted tighter in her hair, guiding her bruised lipsticked lips up and down his proud erection.

Mikhail felt Valerie using her tongue on his glans and circling his fraenulum while her lips undulated back and forth along his shaft. He nearly surrendered. Valerie was stoking his scrotum with her fingertip while her mouth suckled his phallus bringing him close to the point of no return but he saw through her ruse.

He ripped her face away from his groin and threw her down on the bed, pushing her face into the pillows.

"I don't want to see that filthy organ while I'm fucking your ass you whore," Mikhail put his hand around Valerie's neck and held her down while he pawed at her panties.

He hooked them aside exposing her sphincter than then he tore out the crotch of her pantyhose with a snaggled yellowed fingernail. Valerie was choking, fighting to breathe as Mikhail prodded at her sphincter with his distended cock and finally he forced his glans into her puckered bud.

Valerie squealed when Mikhail pushed himself inside her. She was raw and unlubricated and it felt like a red hot poker had been pushed into her bowels. She reached out her fingers and found the bedside table and was able to open the drawer. She scrambled blindly until her fingers found the tube of KY-Jelly. She took a deep breath and tried to talk.

"Here, use this. It will be better for us both," Valerie waved the tube of lubricant in front of the professor's eyes.