The Interpreter Ch. 04

He snatched it, releasing her throat. His cock felt like it was fucking sandpaper because Valerie's anus was so dry.

"You do it!" he rolled Valerie over so that she was facing him and handed her the lubricant, tearing his cock out of her as he did so, causing nearly as much pain as he did when he pushed it inside her.

Valerie unscrewed the cap of the KY-Jelly with shaky fingers and squeezed a dollop of the cool, slippery gel on her fingertips. She placed a gobbet of the gel in her puckered bud and smeared the remainder on Mikhail's thick tool.

Then to Mikhail's surprise she thrust two pillows under the arch of her back, lifted her legs and opened them wide and took Mikhail's rampant penis in her hand. If she was going to be violated she might as well be violated with as little pain as possible. Valerie guided Mikhail's prong to her glistening aperture and tried as hard as she could to relax her sphincter.

Mikhail's cock slid slowly into her rectum until he had her fully impaled.

She suddenly wished that it did hurt. She wished that she had fought harder. She wished that she was not conditioned to be a slattern.

Although she detested the man lying on top of her, his glans pressed on her prostate and the girth of his shaft stimulated the sensitive nerves in her sphincter and she couldn't suppress a groan of lusty pleasure. Having this repulsive man violate her had somehow triggered something suppressed deep inside of her that she had no control over.

She clung to Mikhail and crossed her ankles behind his back and rose up to meet his thrusts. She opened her mouth and welcomed his vile kisses as he fucked her hard, slamming her into the mattress, pounding his cock in and out of her tight channel. The more it hurt, the more Valerie loved it. She moaned like a slattern, dragging her fingernails across Mikhail's back, digging her high heels into his flanks, encouraging him to fuck her harder.

The bedsprings protested and the headboard shook as Mikhail's cock jackhammered in and out Valerie's anus. Mikhail marvelled at the tight velvety duct clinging to his cock as he fucked her, it seemed to be gently squeezing his cock; milking it almost. The sensation was amazing and he drove his tongue into Valerie's mouth, tasting her, smelling her perfume, feeling her soft body under him, her nipples hard against his flesh.

He couldn't see it, which was just as well, but Valerie's cock had sprung free from her tuck and was rock hard. Unbeknownst to Mikhail every time he thrust into Valerie his fat belly rubbed on Valerie's cock through her satin panties which were saturated with lubricant and pre-seminal fluid.

Mikhail drove Valerie into the bed and roared as his scalding semen erupted from his rampant cock and filled her void. Valerie released into her panties, her orgasm wracking her body, causing her to shiver and shake as she moaned around Mikhail's slobbering kisses. She clung to him, holding him tight, feeling his cock quiver in her anus as he deposited his vile load deep in her bowel. She felt disgusted with herself but the pleasure she felt was almost unimaginable and she just surrendered to it. She continued to ejaculate into her panties, spurting her issue as Mikhail's issue filled her anus.

She lay under Mikhail, his weight crushing her, his sweat dripping on her face, his foul breath almost making her gag. She felt his cock slide out of her anus and his semen dribble between her legs. Her arms and legs were spread wide on the bed. She no longer wanted to hold him, she no longer wanted to kiss him; she felt disgusted with herself as the afterglow of her orgasm diminished.

Mikhail too was feeling post-coital regret. Yes he had accomplished what he set out to do: he had fucked his pretty assistant but the reality of what she was and what he had done to her made him feel dirty and depraved.

He climbed off Valerie without saying a word and she lay there silently staring at the ceiling while he dressed.

"See you tomorrow at breakfast. Don't be late and don't say a word about this," he poked her in the ribs and smiled when she winced.

When Valerie heard the door close she ran to it and locked it and then raced into the bathroom and ripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower turning the water on full and as scalding hot as she could stand it.

FBI Field Office, New York City -- July 1985

FBI Special Agents Vince Gruffalo and Bob Munsen and MI6 Agent Brice Bronson sat around the conference table talking intensely.

"So London and Washington have agreed to conduct this as a joint operation?" Bob Munson ruminated, swirling coffee grounds around the bottom of his cup.

"Yes, although I don't know why. She's operating on our turf," Vince Gruffalo growled.

"I think MI6 are being very generous old chap. If not for us you Americans would have no idea that the Soviets were running an operative at your little Convention," Brice sniffed.

"There was supposed be détente during the Conference. No defections and no covert operations from either side. Spirit of cooperation and all that bullshit," Vince's distaste for such an arrangement was evident in his tone.

"You never can trust the Ruskies. Now look here; we need to turn her. Find out who she has already lured into her honey trap and then get her working for us. If she's still employed as an analyst in KGB Directorate Five, when she returns to Moscow she'll be an invaluable source of information," Brice said smugly.

"And if the Rooskies continue to run her as a field operative she will be just as valuable," Vince countered.

"It's win/win. We just have to nab her and turn her," Bob Munsen piped in.

"I think it's a job for the Limey; she'll have seen you and I around the hotel conducting our security detail and the KGB know who we are too," Bob continued.

"I hate to say it but you're right Bob. Don't forget Agent Bronson, she's a shared asset once she's turned," Vince turned to Brice Bronson and pointed an accusatory finger at him

"Oh, of course old chap. That's the agreement. Now let's figure out how we are going to lure the spider out of her web," Brice replied and three men got down to business.

Room 525 Plaza Hotel, New York City -- July 1985

Valerie spent as much time in the shower as she dared. Her fingers and toes were starting to prune when she finally stepped out. She used her douche and squirted Professor Mikhail Blavatsky's seed out of her body. She looked at herself critically in the mirror.

Most of the blows to her face had been slaps and the flushing on her cheeks was dissipating but the front of her lower lip was a little swollen and she had a small bruise under her left eye. Her ribs still ached and there were purple bruises on her abdomen and her nipples were still tender.

She got to work with her makeup and covered up the damage to her face. There was nothing she could do about the bruises on her body. She stepped into fresh pantyhose and pulled on a pair of high-waisted nylon panties to cover her belly, tucking herself but not taping.

She picked up the pantyhose and panties that she had been wearing when Mikhail Blavatsky violated her and threw them in the trash. She was ashamed that her own semen was comingled with the Professor's but recriminations would have to wait until after Yuri Godekin's visit. The black cocktail dress followed. It was a shame because she really liked the dress but if she kept it, it would forever remind her of the evening's events.

She slipped into a silk nightgown and brushed her hair and examined her face in the mirror. Her makeup was heavier than usual to disguise her swollen lip and the bruise under her eye but she always wore heavy makeup so no one was likely to think anything was wrong.

Valerie looked at the mantle clock and saw that it was just after eleven. She opened the minibar and poured two miniature vodkas over ice and drank them. Then she started on the scotch. She hoped that alcohol would numb the pain, both physical and psychological.

She was dozing when Yuri tapped politely on the door before letting himself in.

"How was the dinner?" Yuri asked as he entered, waking Valerie from her slumber.

"Boring but mercifully over quickly," Valerie forced a smile.

"You should have called my room. I could have come earlier and you could have gone to bed early and rested up. You'll be busy again tomorrow," Yuri placed a file down on the side table and then he noticed the empty vodka and scotch bottles.

"You were having a party?" Yuri frowned at the miniatures and the empty glass in front of her.

Valerie recalled the Professor lying on top of her, pounding her into the mattress and she winced.

"Hardly," she replied.

Yuri had seen her wince and his sixth sense kicked in. He strode over to Valerie and helped her to her feet. She wobbled a little and flinched at the pain in her ribs.

"Are you drunk?" Yuri searched her face.

Valerie shook her head.

"I might have had one drink too many," she corrected herself.

Yuri studied her face and then he tenderly reached out and touched her cheek and try as she might Valerie couldn't help wincing when his finger touched the contusion under her eye. He gently wiped at the concealer, foundation and powder and revealed the mauve bruise. Then he wiped her lipstick with the back of his hand and revealed the swelling on her bottom lip.

"I'm sorry. It was my fault. I can still complete the mission. Please don't beat me," Valerie lifted her chin stoically.

Yuri took a step back and Valerie braced herself for the blow but instead Yuri opened her nightgown and gasped when he saw the yellowing bruises on her ribs and belly.

"I'm sorry. I deserved it. I should have just given him what he wanted," Valerie tried her hardest to supress a sob.

"Given who?" Yuri looked perplexed.

Before Valerie could answer storm clouds brewed in Yuri's eyes and he clenched his fists.

"Professor Blavatsky!" Yuri hissed.

Valerie lowered her head and said nothing.

Yuri turned on his heels and stormed out of the room.

He returned half an hour later and found Valerie curled up on the bed quietly sobbing. He took off his jacket and shoes and climbed on the bed and cuddled her, spooning her tiny body into his. He stroked her hair and whispered to her.

"Nothing was your fault. No one should ever harm you. I am so sorry that this happened to you; I blame myself," he murmured and pulled her closer.

He stroked her hair and her cheeks. Just before she fell asleep, finally feeling safe, she noticed that Yuri's knuckles were skinned and bleeding.

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

When Valerie awoke Yuri was already up and about. He had returned to his own room, showered and changed into a fresh suit. A full breakfast awaited Valerie on a room service trolley.

"I am sorry that I allowed myself to be damaged. I can still perform my mission. You saw last night that if I apply my cosmetics carefully I can conceal the wounds to my face. I'll wear a corset or a chemise to hide the bruises on my body," Valery said, her voice sounded like she was pleading.

"Please don't send me back to Russia until after the Convention. Until after I have completed my mission. I must save my family," she whispered.

"Come and have some breakfast," Yuri held out a hand and helped Valerie off the bed.

She winced a little but was steady on her feet. Yuri held her at arm's length. The bruising under her eye was almost purple but a little concealer would take care of that. The swelling on her bottom lip was not as bad. Valerie's lips had been injected with collagen before she left Russia to plump them so the wound was hardly noticeable unless you looked for it. Astute application of lipliner and lipstick would hide what swelling remained.

"I'm sorry Yuri," Valerie apologised for what seemed to be the hundredth time and tears ran down her face.

Yuri pulled her into his arms and held her close, feeling her heart beating against his chest and her soft breath on his neck. He lifted her face and saw fear, anxiety and helplessness.

He lowered his face to hers and kissed her softly, acutely aware of her bruised lip. Valerie stiffened and then she melted in his arms. For the first time since she had been marched out of her dingy apartment by the State Security goons Valerie felt safe.

Yuri felt Valerie tense up and then relax. She put her arms around his broad shoulders and clung to him and returned his kiss. The kiss was soft, warm and tender without a hint of salaciousness. Yuri could hardly believe that he held this woman in his embrace knowing what he knew about her. He had tried his best to despise her, to detest her for what she was but his hatred had worked against him. Valerie's true nature had overcome his animosity towards her.

She clung to him and he felt her helplessness and he wanted to protect her. He had taken revenge for her; probably at the expense of his career and possibly his life.

He kissed her a little more ardently and despite the sting, Valerie returned the kiss and opened her mouth a little. Yuri slipped the tip of his tongue inside her lips and tickled her mouth with it. Valerie sighed. She could feel herself becoming aroused and she was untucked but luckily was still wearing her pantyhose and high-waited panties. She thought that Yuri would find her repugnant if he felt her genitals becoming engorged.

She could feel that Yuri was becoming aroused too. She could feel the girth of him though her diaphanous nightgown.

Yuri knew that he could take Valerie whenever he wanted and part of him wanted to. But that would make him no better than Ivan Petrov and Professor Mikhail Blavatsky both of whom had taken advantage of Valerie's vulnerability. Yuri would be committing exactly the same sins because there was no doubt that Valerie was feeling the most vulnerable she had ever felt.

Instead Yuri gently eased Valerie out of his embrace and led her to a comfortable chair next to the little dinette and rolled the room service trolley over and placed the breakfast tray on the table in front of her.

"Eat. You will need your strength," Yuri said, his voice choked a little with unstated emotions.

"Are you having some?" Valerie lifted the lid off a plate loaded with a full American breakfast.

A rack of toast and pot of coffee accompanied the feast.

"I'll take some coffee," Yuri pulled up a chair and sat down beside her.

Valerie thought that she would be unable to eat but once she started eating she realised that she was ravenous. She'd hardly eaten the night before, substituting champagne for sustenance.

Yuri drank coffee and watched her eat amusingly. He knew that Valerie had been told to limit her food intake to ensure that she kept her figure and for the practicalities of anal sex. A thousand thoughts bounced around inside his head and eventually he decided what he must do.

"I am late already. I must get dressed and join the Professor for today's activities," Valerie said once she was sated.

"The Professor will no longer be participating in the Convention," Yuri said sombrely.

"I have rearranged your schedule with our organising committee. Mishka Malkovsky will undertake interpreter duties today. Professor Ukoff will take over as head of the academic contingent," Yuri added.

"Then where is Professor Blavatsky? What am I to do for the remainder of the Convention?" Valerie sounded panicked.

Yuri held out a hand to Valerie and once again she noticed the skinned knuckles. She stood up and searched his eyes and saw that the coldness that she usually saw there was gone. The coldness had been replaced with something softer but she was not sure what it was until he leaned in and kissed her again. This time he made no attempt to hide his passion for her. He held her tight and pressed himself into her and kissed with ardour and desire. He had one hand on her buttock and another around her waist and Valerie fitted against him like she was made for the purpose.

Valerie imagined that she was dreaming. What had brought about this change in Yuri Godekin?

Yuri broke the kiss and looked into Valerie's emerald green eyes; his face as serious as she had ever seen it.

"I have done something that has placed us both in grave danger. You have a small window of opportunity to save yourself at my expense. Go and see the head of the delegation and tell him that I and Professor Blavatsky fought over you and that I killed the Professor," Yuri breathed.

"Tell him that I was jealous and became enraged when I found you both together. You have the bruises to show him where I beat you before I went to the Professor's room and beat him to death," Yuri sighed and lowered his head.

The enormity of what Yuri had done washed over Valerie like an arctic wave; chilling her to the bone.

Valerie put her fingers under Yuri's chin and lifted his head. She traced the fine scar down the side of his face with her fingertip and then lifted her face and kissed him softly.

"Whatever you have done, we are in this together," Valerie whispered.

"Are you sure?" Yuri searched her face.

Valerie did not reply verbally. She simply kissed him again and nodded.

"The convention committee is easily fooled and they will not miss Professor Blavatsky for a day or two but the KGB will become suspicious unless you continue with your mission which is all they care about," Yuri said.

Valerie nodded again.

"I hate to ask you to do this but you must keep your assignation with Dexter Folger this evening," Yuri said gravely.

"You don't have to ask me; just tell me," Valerie replied.

"You are not my chattel any longer Valerie. I have broken that bond," Yuri said.

"Then I will do it for you. It is only you that can save us now but I have every faith in you Yuri," Valerie gave him a wry smile and pecked his cheek.

"Maybe you have too much faith in me. Stay in your room until I return. I have much to do before tonight's festivity," Yuri was suddenly all business and he released Valerie and strode to the door.

He turned back to Valerie and saw her looking after him with both vulnerability and hope on her face. He strode back into the room and kissed her passionately, taking her breath away.

"Now I really have to go," Yuri said and this time he did not look back.

Yuri had been a field officer for many years and disposing of body was an easy task for him, although this time it was made a little more difficult because he was in the Plaza Hotel in the middle of Manhattan. Yuri cleaned Mikhail Blavatsky's room of all evidence of the battering Yuri inflicted on the Professor and packed up the Professor's clothing and personal affects. He put Mikhail Blavatsky's body in a laundry cart and used the service elevator to take it down to the basement and then went back for the suitcases. The hotel's parking facilities were off-site but Yuri had acquired a nondescript looking van and to anyone looking on it would appear that Yuri was loading laundry; he was wearing coveralls and a watch cap.

Mikhail Blavatsky's naked battered body would be fished from the Hudson River the next day. He was never properly identified and assumed to be a vagrant or a tourist who had been robbed and beaten to death. Either way, with nearly nine hundred murders to solve that year, Mikhail Blavatsky was quickly designated a John Doe and his murder stacked in the cold case files.

Yuri's possessions went into a dumpster and ended up at Fresh Kills Landfill on Staten Island. Yuri would have been amused by the irony if he knew.

Yuri hung a do not disturb sign on the Professor's door and directed the switchboard not to disturb the Professor. The story that Mikhail Blavatsky had taken ill was accepted graciously by the head of the delegation. Nobody like the arrogant, angry buffoon anyway so his absence from the Convention was considered a blessing.