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Her Cold War

By: krr1957



This story deals with themes of reluctance and coercion in a lesbian setting. If you think that you might be offended please try another story.

Chapter One

If I had to find a few adjectives to describe myself I would use pretty, intelligent, principled; someone guided by a clear moral compass.

Then why was I kneeling on the bed with the headset tight against my ears and the microphone pressed to the wall?

I had spent the afternoon using the monitoring equipment to familiarize myself with the inner workings of the one ton 1963 Model 2 Gerlich safe and it was a simple matter to sneak the kit up to my room.

The muffled noises from Xander's bedroom had intrigued me for the past two days, and a glass against the wall had availed me nothing, but the microphone conferred a frightening clarity.

"Undress me..."

It was Xander's assured voice, her cut-glass English accent the product of a "ruling class" upbringing and the best private education that money could buy. I had always been coy about revealing my body to others but I imagined that Xander had no such qualms.

She was effortlessly beautiful and when three of us had gone to The Curzon to see the newly released "Les Parapluies de Cherbourg" at the weekend we had all remarked on her resemblance to the young French actress who had played the part of Geneviève.

"Please...not tonight."

Since arriving I had wondered if our room pairings were planned or simply random. Clara's pleading voice revealed how much she had in common with me. We were both state educated and the beneficiaries of scholarships which had enabled us to study at Oxford. In short, we were the poor relations in the group and would have made natural roommates.

"Don't disappoint me...take off my dress."

Even now the conversation could be taken as perfectly innocent but my heart was beating faster. A long silence was eventually pierced by the unmistakable rasping of a long zip and I imagined Xander with her expensive underwear revealed.

"I need to sleep. We're being tested tomorrow afternoon."

Clara's tone of voice was enough by itself to express the tiredness that we all felt but Xander was unheeding.

"You can sleep when you're done. Help me out of these."

With every second that passed I expected Clara to rebel. Since day one Xander had regaled us with stories of the string of men that were in thrall to her and I assumed that Clara was not without experience.

She was petite but she had an enviable body and a flawless English rose complexion which set off her striking blue eyes and smiling mouth. She wore very minimal make-up and I saw the way that men looked at her.

Xander's beauty was like a force of nature but Clara had a more subtle appeal that had you questioning just what it was about her that made her stand out.

I tried to imagine what was happening on the other side of the wall but Xander painted the picture with words.

"Down on your knees you little slut."

I had no experience with other women but, having studied at St. Hilda's all-girl college at Oxford, I was no stranger to lesbianism. It was not something that had previously stirred me in any way.

"Xander...this is so wrong"

"Don't pretend you don't want it. Look how wet you've made me."

Her simple statement hit me like a cosh. I had never imagined a man talking this crudely let alone another woman. For a couple of seconds I lifted the microphone from the wall but then quickly set it back in place.

"Gently...just my lips."

The image in my mind sharpened. I was very conscious of my own protuberant labia, and had often wondered if a man would find them off-putting, but now I imagined Xander to be similarly endowed. Those few words, and the confidence with which they were spoken, made me think anew.

"That's a good girl...one at a time."

I brushed my hand down the front of my dress beneath which I could feel the heat radiating through my cotton panties. It had taken me years to overcome my mother's injunction not to touch myself and to rid myself of guilt but to do it whilst eavesdropping in this manner seemed so terribly wrong.

"No hands....just your tongue."

I gave a groan as Xander got inside my head demanding the most intimate of contacts. My eyes closed and my tongue moved in my mouth now awash with saliva.

"Stop for a moment...breathe me in..."

I did as she asked and caught the faintest hint of arousal knowing that it could only be my own.

"Inside now...nice and slowly..."

It was almost more than I could do to keep my tongue in check. Was Clara still reluctant or was she as spellbound as I?

"That's good...now deeper."

I could not help myself. I slipped my hand inside my panties and found myself obscenely wet. I was almost overwhelmed by the urge to strip naked but I feared to miss anything. I thought that I could hear the soft suck of moisture but the microphone was not that sensitive and it could only be my own fingers at work the sound penetrating the soft padding of the headset.

"Tell me how much you love the taste..."

Clara's reply was muffled. She could have been expressing adoration or protestation, it was hard to tell.

"Don't dribble...I want to hear you swallow."

I felt a sudden yearning to know that taste and, for the first time, I pressed my fingers deep into my sex and then brought them to my lips. I knew it was terribly wrong but I could not help myself. I was familiar with my own scent but it gave no inkling of the richness that now flooded my mouth.

For a moment I was torn. My sex ached with need but I was reluctant to stop suckling my fingers. I wondered if I could keep the flat microphone pressed to the wall without using my hand but it was not going to work.

With a whimper of frustration I brought my slickened fingers back to my sex and pressed them deep inside whilst, at the same time, I moved the microphone a fraction to try and hear more.

I was startled by a sudden roar in headphones and it took a second or two to make sense of it. Xander's voice was now so clear it was if she were speaking directly into my ear.

She must have backed herself against the wall and I felt a thrill of excitement knowing that we were now separated by just six inches of bricks and plaster.

"Come on, deeper than that, I don't think you're trying."

Whatever Clara did in response elicited a groan of satisfaction from Xander that almost vibrated through the wall. It seemed to be transmitted to my fingers and then throughout my whole body as I was shaken by the unexpected onset of an orgasm which had me biting down on my upper arm to stifle my reaction.

As I recovered it was obvious that Xander had far more self-control than me. Her mesmeric voice slowly seeped back into my consciousness.

"I hope that's not a complaint you ungrateful little slut. You're finished when I say you are. I want to feel that clever little tongue of yours on my clitoris."

I was a grown woman but I had ever heard anyone say that word out loud before. For me it was something almost clandestine, that tiny bud that could instil such pleasurable paroxysms. I looked forward, one day, to being married but I could not imagine a man with the understanding or the delicacy of touch to fulfil me as I could myself.

Xander shattered that illusion of secrecy. I began to visualize her unashamedly opening herself to Clara's gaze putting on display that which I would conceal with bedclothes and the cover of darkness.

In my imagination her clitoris was less discreet than my own, capable of bringing her pleasure beyond mine if such a thing were possible. I tried to calm myself and bring my rapid breathing back under control as I listened for more.

"That's nice...slowly now...there's no hurry."

I do not know how long I knelt there with my eyes closed straining for any sound to feed my fevered imagination. Now and again Xander purred with satisfaction whilst Clara gave a muted moan which might have been an indicator of gratification else a signal that her tongue was beginning to tire.

"You know what I like...suck it for me."

I thought that I heard the pursing of her lips but I certainly caught the drawn out wanton growl that followed.

"Faster now...do it...make me come on your face."

There was no doubting the meaning of her words as she shattered yet another taboo. Sometimes, in the throes of orgasm, I felt a slight gushing which would necessitate a change of bedclothes. I had wondered if this was another secret amongst women but Xander not only embraced it but revelled in it.

She began to groan ever more loudly, exhorting Clara to even greater effort, until a shrill shriek gave way to a plaintive wail as she finally reached her goal.

My heart was hammering in my chest and my arm was numb from holding the microphone so tightly to the wall. I knew I had to pull myself away but after tonight my roommate would be back and there might be no further opportunities.

Such sounds as I could hear were uncertain but I thought there might have been a low sob. When Xander eventually spoke again it was clear that she had moved to the other side of the room and had presumably got into bed

"Don't sit there feeling sorry for yourself. I not tired yet and I want you over here right now."

Chapter Two

The next morning I went down early and took a walk in the grounds of the house. It took twenty minutes to complete a circuit and then I was ready for breakfast.

I was the first to arrive but the two maids, in their crisply starched white blouses, stood ready at the buffet table. I could still not get used to the way that they greeted me with a deference that seemed more in keeping with the occupier of a stately home rather than a scholarship girl from inner London.

I requested tea and cereal and wondered if I ought to try and engage them in conversation but it just seemed easier to hurry through my meagre repast and then head off to the training room.

As soon as I walked through the door I saw the change. Over the past weeks I had gotten used to the familiar setting of twelve desks facing front in school room fashion. Now there were just four forming an island in the middle of the room.

I felt a hollow sensation in the pit of my stomach knowing that the cull must have taken place. We all knew that it was coming but we had never been told how many. Now, it seemed, they had dispensed with two-thirds of our number.

My hands were shaking as I moved closer to the desks to check the names on the folders neatly laid out at each place. That Clara's name should be the first that I saw was no great surprise. Linguistically, she was the best of us and, whilst she had not excelled at any of the other new disciplines that we had been taught, neither had she come up short in any particular area.

The second name was unexpected. Lily was probably the least outgoing of our group but she set about everything with a quiet determination and always seemed genuinely surprised when she came out top in any of the many tests we had faced.

The third name was my own and I felt both a huge sigh of relief and a measure of trepidation. I knew that, in coldly analytical terms, I had probably outscored the others overall but I was not sure that I had demonstrated enough character.

I did not even have to look at the next desk but I did anyway. It had been clear to all of us, pretty much from the start, that Xander was going to make the cut even if it was just by sheer force of will.

It looked as if we were not going to get the opportunity to say farewell to our erstwhile colleagues and I felt a momentary pang of regret regarding Sophia. As a roommate her easy going, relaxed, attitude had often helped to calm me down when the stress was beginning to tell.

I was about to leave the room, thinking perhaps that I should not have pre-empted things, when Natherson came through the door. I tried to appear nonchalant but, as always, she gave the impression that she could see right through me. The others had taken to calling her 'Major Margo' behind her back but I remained in awe of her.

I had never heard of her before I was recruited but I had picked up on the whispers. She had served three years of the war behind enemy lines and had been twice decorated for gallantry. She was still in her mid-twenties when the war ended and was rumoured to be the youngest woman ever to have achieved the rank of major.

She was now in her forties but her beauty had matured and not faded. Her make-up was simple but effective and, if she had a mind to, she could pass herself off as an older Elizabeth Taylor. Her only blemish, if it could be called such, was the presence of fine lines at the corners of her eyes which betrayed the stresses of her war years.

"You've stolen a march on the others I see."

I was not sure how I was expected to reply as she approached the bank of desks and picked up the folder with my name on it. She flicked through it and then resumed.

"You came out with the highest scores overall...but then I'm sure you knew that. The question is, have you got what it takes?"

I was not expecting congratulations but nor was I expecting her slightly disparaging tone.

She looked at me fixedly.

"Are you a virgin?"

I was too shocked to answer but the instant flush across my cheeks probably confirmed what she correctly surmised.

"Don't be embarrassed. My point is that there is more to all this than just technical skills. I suspect that Xander and Clara would have no problem in using their natural charms to achieve the necessary ends if it came to it. It might also surprise you to learn that Lily is more mature than she outwardly appears."

I felt a growing sense of indignation.

"Are you saying that I need to compromise myself?"

"That will be up to you if and when the time ever comes. The fact is that you are one of the best natural talents that I have come across. I have no doubts that you can survive on your wits but it may not be enough."

You remind me of myself in some ways; not least because you are a lesbian."

I looked at her unable to form a coherent reply. She, for her part, looked straight into my eyes as if daring me to contradict her. The truth of the matter was that I was unsure of myself. I had spent most of my formative years in all female environments and I convinced myself that it was only natural, in such circumstances, that I should feel drawn to those close to me. I rationalized that I would form a normal relationship when I entered the wider world.

My eyes flitted nervously as I tried to hold her gaze and then I thought I caught the faintest hint of amusement in her expression.

"Well, well, you really are a virgin."

She loomed closer and I could smell the freshness of mint on her breath. I found myself staring at her mouth, her immaculately glossed lips slightly parted. I had the impression that she had never been compromised except on her own terms.

I wanted to draw away from her but I felt detached from my own body. The room suddenly seemed very much warmer and I was conscious of my rising heart rate.

She brought her mouth to my ear and whispered almost inaudibly.

"Would you like to kiss me?"

I wanted to tell her no but the words would not come. The urge to flee was overwhelming but my limbs were not my own to command. As I looked into her eyes once again I could hear echoes of Xander's coaxing from the night before and I began to get some sense of how Clara had been affected.

Reality seemed suspended leaving just the two of us alone in time and making all things seem possible.

I do not know if it was she or I who closed the space between us. Her lips touched mine with a barely credible softness and our mouths melded together as if it were their destiny. For long seconds neither of us moved, as our breathing began to harmonize, but then I felt the fleeting touch of her tongue gently moistening.

I surrendered to her as her lips parted easing my mouth open to allow an intimate intrusion. She took the lead as our tongues played together and a thrill shivered through my whole body.

Guiding my hand she pressed it to her chest and I felt the strength of her heartbeat which was calm and sure when compared to mine. Lost in the spell of her kiss I was dimly aware of the movement of her fingers but I was unprepared when she eased my hand within the confines of her opened blouse pushing her bra aside.

She kept her mouth pressed to mine as I drew a sharp breath. I could feel the fullness of her breast beneath my fingers and then the implausibility of her engorged nipple. The excited areola was much larger than mine crowned with an arrogant teat.

Her fingers encouraged me to squeeze and I was surprised and thrilled when she groaned softly. Without breaking our embrace she unfastened her blouse altogether and, as if by magic, her bra fell away.

Some part of my mind registered that the door was unlocked, and that we could be found out at any moment, but I could not stop. She broke away from me and my eyes were drawn to her bared breasts. They were larger than I imagined with a beautiful under curve.

Her skin was honey tinged, making me feel pallid by comparison, and her fiercely erect nipples were almost chocolate brown.

Having allowed me the privilege of gazing upon her she put her hand to the back of my head. I resisted for a second or two but her fingers twined in my hair and dispelled the tension from my tautened muscles.

I felt limp as she drew me down upon her breast where I rested mutely frozen with my lips pressed closed. Still holding my head she patiently teased the firmed tip of her nipple across my mouth knowing that I was powerless to refuse.

My lips, still wet from her kiss, were slowly parted and some instinct began to guide my tongue. I could feel every dimple of her excited flesh as her nipple swelled to even greater prominence within my mouth.

I had to fight the urge to touch myself but I was forestalled as she encouraged me to explore her body. With one hand I followed the curve of her hip whilst the other caressed the bare skin of her back.

I knew that it had to stop, else both of our careers were in jeopardy, but I felt frustrated as she took my face in her hands and eased me away.

Even now, I found myself averting my eyes to allow her to adjust her clothing but I had badly misjudged. I caught a glimpse as she reached beneath her skirt and then a flash of white as she quickly removed her pants.

She still held them in her hand as she reached forward and pressed down on my shoulders. She had a latent strength and I felt like a child as I went to my knees to prevent myself from stumbling.

Her movements were urgent and purposeful as she lifted her skirt and pressed herself closer to me. The next I knew I was shrouded in darkness as she enveloped me with the heavy woollen fabric.

In the interval of a few heartbeats I went from near panic to an eerie sense of repose. It had the quality of hiding myself beneath the covers where no harm could come to me. I could feel the heat from her skin and I breathed in the smell of fresh laundry but my nostrils twitched as they were teased by a something more primal.

There could be no doubting what she expected of me and the anticipation of it had obviously had an effect on her.

As my eyes accustomed to the enclosing gloom I could see a distinct area of darkness contrasting with the paleness of her thighs and I was taken back to the shock of my initiation.

Whilst undergoing our medicals we were told that the area in which we would be operating had been subject to infestation. As a result, the local women had taken to denuding themselves of all body hair and it would be necessary for us to do the same.

I was really uncomfortable with the idea, and it was still taking some getting used to, but it was clear that Natherson was not practising what she preached.


Her Cold War



She gently pulled her skirt, drawing me closer in the process, until my nose brushed against the soft covering of her pubis. I was shocked by the telling dampness but my senses were overwhelmed by the sudden richness of her scent.

It may have been the claustrophobic restraint but there was a depth to it that seemed to speak both of mystery and maturity. I was frightened both of her and the prospect of opening a Pandora's box but my tongue was already preparing to turn traitor.

I felt my face flush and a pounding in my temples as I began to awkwardly nuzzle her before attempting a first tentative lick.

The texture of the silken dressing felt unnatural but it afforded me a first fleeting taste of her. It had an unexpected edge to it but as it spread across my tongue I reflexively licked a second time.

As I did so I am sure that I felt her labia swell and I became more positive. The pliant folds were so smooth it was as if they were oiled and they yielded up a taste like nothing I had experienced before.

I licked more greedily, filling my mouth, and a delicious tingling sensation rolled over me

making me acutely aware of my own sex.

She submitted slowly to my tongue, which was drawn ever inwards, and then, with a final application of pressure, I was deeply lodged.

I was startled by her inner heat but this was the wellspring of her liquid desire and I felt as if I had overdosed on the amphetamines we had been given to keep us awake through extended periods.

Every nuance of her seemed amplified. My nose was pressed to her warm wetness adding to the pleasure that my tongue was transmitting. Her skilled muscles held me in place and I felt perfectly fitted to her. I could even feel her pulse and I was pleased to find that it was beginning to race.

I was under no illusions. I was a mere ingénue and it was simply the fact of bringing me to this that was exciting her but, right then, there was no place I would rather have been. I began to feel a series of contractions and the significance was not lost on me.

I tried to move inside her but the best I could do was to swell my tongue pressing back against her ever more urgent need.

In final confirmation her hands found the back of my head holding me firmly in place and then her body stiffened and my tongue was squeezed almost to the point of discomfort. She rocked her hips gently as she succumbed to her climax but I was unprepared for the sudden flood of moisture that accompanied it.

For a second or two it felt as if I was drowning but her hold on me was unremitting and I regained control and let my mouth be filled. As I swallowed her offering I felt an incredible sense of wellbeing and it took a second or two to recognize that I had melted into a climax of my own.

Finally, the pressure on my tongue slowly eased allowing me to slip free but her hand stroked my head through the material of her dress and, so comforted, I gently licked the residue from her skin.

When I emerged my face was hot and wet but she brought me to my feet and kissed me on the lips.

"Sadly, this has to be goodbye."

Chapter Three

She left me standing there shocked and bemused but, in the days that followed, I had little time for contemplation. Our induction process, already intense, was ratcheted up another notch. All of our tutors were replaced and every lesson was conducted in German.

Now that there were just four of us everything became more personal and seemingly more brutal. Deprived of sleep we were endlessly tested and any shortcomings were met with disparaging abuse.

More than once I thought about quitting but it felt like a betrayal of our little group which became more tight-knit day by day.

I began to suspect that they wanted to form two operational pairs and they were looking for the optimal partnerships. In my own mind I already had Xander and Clara as a team which left me with Lily.

Since the cull she had grown in confidence. She was more obviously competitive and was prepared to take the lead where once she might have deferred the responsibility. She even held herself differently. Her previously drab wardrobe now yielded up some more flattering outfits and she proved very adept at applying make-up.

She was not a classic beauty but she had regular features and long dark hair which conferred a certain mystique and I was reminded of what Natherson had said about her.

I was sure that she had reached the same conclusion that I had about pairings and I sensed that she was positioning herself. With the other two Xander was obviously the controlling influence but, if it was to be Lily and me, were they looking for the natural leader?

In any event we were reaching a critical stage. Things were happening quickly and I got the impression that corners were being cut in order to speed things along. It was at 1.00 a.m., after an already stressful day, that we were roused from our beds. I was told to dress quickly and to report outside.

The night was cold and I donned the warmest clothes I could lay my hands on along with a pair of heavy boots. The others were waiting for me, similarly attired, but even now Xander looked as if she had had time to take pains with her appearance.

We were ushered into the back of a Bedford truck and then blindfolded. As best I could judge the journey took about ninety minutes but we were told to put all of our personal belongings, including watches, into a paper bag before they were taken from us.

We travelled in silence but then he truck began to stop at intervals and each time one of us was told to get out.

I was the last. I reckoned that the interval was about five minutes and the truck was probably travelling at about thirty miles per hour over rough terrain. That put us at least two and a half miles apart.

I took off my blindfold and watched the truck disappear into the night. I was on open moorland and the chill suggested that we had climbed some way. From our base, outside Keswick, we could have been anywhere in the national parkland but the rocky terrain suggested that we had travelled west towards the bleaker landscape of the coast.

If that was the case I was a long way from civilization and there was a real risk of exposure. The sensible option, given that there was no moonlight, was to hunker down and wait for daylight.

My immediate instinct was to follow the gradient downwards, following the track that the truck had taken, to get out of the increasing wind and to find some shelter but I decided against it. The truck had extinguished its lights as it drove away but the sound carried for some time and it was still not on a made up road.

I was convinced that the truck was driving further into the wilderness and so I revised my strategy. I began to climb in the hope that I was on one of the higher peaks. It must have taken me fifteen freezing minutes to hit upon the stony track but then I began to ascend quickly.

A little later I began to think I had made a serious mistake. The wind was biting through my clothes and there was rain in the air. I looked for anything that might offer shelter and then I heard the noise.

I headed quickly towards it and began to make out the outline of the hut. I almost cried with relief on seeing the mountain rescue insignia and blessed the ingenuity of the wind horn which sat atop the pole. This was a new, and welcome, enhancement since I had walked the fells as a teenager.

Sadly, there were no supplies in the hut except for candles and matches but at least it was weather tight. I struck a light and looked at the laminated map on the wall. My guess had been good. I was not far from Cross Fell and, better still, there was a farm marked about a quarter of a mile to the south.

Rather than wait for daylight I decided to take a chance and head downhill. It was almost pitch black but the path leading south was well maintained and I was relieved when I reached a boundary fence. I climbed over and, minutes later, I saw the farm itself.

It was in darkness except for a single light in the yard but I had no intention of waking anyone at this hour. As I had hoped, given that this was high pasture, there was a sturdy barn abutting the farmhouse and I wasted no time in creeping inside.

It felt much warmer out of the wind and a single window let in some of the light from the yard making it feel almost cosy. It illuminated some bales of hay along the rear wall and, better still, laying on top were some horse blankets.

I was soaked through and, after a moment's hesitancy, I stripped altogether and spread my clothes to dry.

I quickly reached for a blanket and, as I did so my heart almost stopped. Laying beneath it, serenely naked, lay Xander.

"You took your time."

I had imagined her naked, as I listened at the wall, but nothing could prepare me for the reality. Her breasts were more fulsome and her nipples more discrete. They formed two neat roundels which, even now, were reacting to the chill to which they were suddenly exposed.

It may have been the arrogant way in which she lay but the curve of her hips was made more obvious leading my eyes down to the perfection of her toned legs.

I guiltily brought me eyes back to her face but not before noticing that she had scrupulously adhered to the guidance on depilation.

She looked at me with mild amusement and said simply.

"Rule 3"

As she said it the acronym that I had devised for rule 3 of our survival training jumped into my head and I involuntarily whispered the word.

"Boothill...."

It was not perfect but enough to trigger the instructor's doctrine ...body heat and lots of loose layers. Xander was inviting me to join her and I was shocked to immobility.

"For God's sake get in!"

Profoundly conscious of my own nakedness I turned around and backed onto the blanket beside her. She immediately threw the remaining blankets over me and then I stopped breathing as she nestled her body into mine.

All of my senses seemed heightened. I could smell the sweetness of the hay but there was also the unmistakable redolence of the exotic perfume that Xander favoured and I wondered that she had found time to apply it as we were dragged from our beds.

My eyes, now accustomed to the gloom, took in Xander's clothes where they hung by the cattle stall but, most keenly of all, I was aware of the sensitivity of my skin.

Xander's body heat was greatly appreciated but as she put an arm around me I could feel the points of her nipples indenting my back and her curled legs seemed too perfectly fitted to mine.

I tried to pretend that it was nothing more than necessity that glued us together but a subdued tingling in my sex told me that I was failing. I am sure that she smirked as I tried to act normally.

"How long have you been here?"

"Not long."

"How did you find it?"

"It had to be here."

I half turned, wondering what she meant.

"Clearly they didn't set out to kill us so I reckoned that they dropped us in a tightly defined area so that they could keep an eye on us. My guess is that the truck drove in a circle and that we were probably only a few hundred yards apart."

This seemed so simple and logical that I wondered why I had not thought of it. I listened with renewed respect as she continued.

"There had to be shelter and there had to be clues as to where to find it. They dropped me by a stream and I could smell the fertilizer run-off. It stood to reason that there was cultivated land upstream and so I followed it until it led here."

I wondered if I had missed a simpler clue but Xander was still speaking.

"There are enough blankets here for at least four people and they smell freshly laundered but, more importantly, are you feeling any warmer?"

The truth was that the warmth of her breath on the nape of my neck was raising the temperature not least between my legs and I began to fear that she would smell my arousal.

Unbidden, she began to rub my arm, and I had to stifle a gasp of surprise.

She was doing exactly what we had been taught but the reality of it, combined with what I knew of her, was shredding what was left of my composure. When her hand moved down to my thigh I squirmed and she moved with me melding our bodies even more tightly together.

After a moment or two my breathing was less steady and I feared that I would choke as she transferred her attention to my other leg. Her thumb brushed fleetingly against my sex and I felt a bead of moisture on my inner thigh. I desperately wanted to move to avoid her fingers but she found the very spot and I could only pray that she thought that I was perspiring.

Her touch was soporific but I was far from relaxed. Had she chosen to ask anything of me at that moment I was not sure that I was capable of refusing.

"Does that feel good?"

I had my legs clenched tightly together but her fingertips were becoming ever more intrusive; they seemed to have the power to relax both my muscles and my will power. I was on the verge of surrendering, to see just how far she would take things, when the creak of the door froze us in place.

"Hello?"

The whispered voice was unmistakeably Clara's and Xander replied in an equally hushed tone.

"Over here."

She cautiously approached our makeshift bed and, even with the limited light, I was able to see the shock on her face when she saw us together. She had been the first of us to be dropped off and her bedraggled state bore testimony to her longer exposure to the elements.

I wanted to ask her what clues she had followed but I could hear her teeth chattering. Without thought I spoke brusquely.

"Get out those wet things."

For a second or two she stared at me and stood rooted to the spot but then she cast a glance at Xander and began to undress.

I noticed that, even now, she took off her clothes carefully almost as if it were a show and it was disconcerting to see that she was looking directly at me.

The play of light and shadow revealed her body by degrees. Her breasts, fuller than I imagined, were hinted at rather than seen and her legs long but still in proportion to her petite frame.

She removed her combat trousers and half turned as she divested herself of her underwear. The pale firmness of her rear was exposed for a moment, like a full moon revealed by cloud, and then she crossed towards us with her hands coyly shielding her sex.

"Let her in the middle."

Clara lifted the blankets and shivered as she snuggled between us happy to avail herself of Xander's invitation. For my part, I felt aggrieved and the more so as Clara's skin was uncomfortably chilled.

Xander began to rub Clara's body, as she had mine, and I started to help. It was some minutes before the three of us reached an equilibrium but any sense of detachment evaporated long before.

Clara squirmed beneath our ministrations and much as I tried to keep my attention focused on her limbs my hands trespassed onto her stomach and breasts and even, at one point, the smoothness of her sex.

Now that she was warm I knew that I should turn my back to her but she was making quiet mewling noises that needed no decrypting. I could see Xander stroking Clara's hair which was still damp and had taken up a natural curl.

"Now how are we going to dry this?"

As she spoke she lifted the edge of the blanket and began to gently pat Clara's head. A draught of cold air raised goosebumps on my arm but Xander slowly pulled the covers closed.

Clara was lost beneath but Xander still rubbed softly and I was shocked to see that she was coaxing her further downwards.

I expected Clara to resist but she was gradually turning away from me. I felt Xander's leg against mine and when I looked towards her there was an alarming intensity in her eyes.

There was no doubting what she wanted and Clara seemed only too willing to oblige. There was more movement beneath the covers and then a charged stillness as Clara found her place.

The triumphant smile on Xander's face told its own story and, for a few seconds, I felt an irrational pang of jealousy. It was as if I had been discarded which probably explains the ridiculous surge of emotion that overcame me when she leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips.

As she drew away I moved with her. She relaxed completely, accepting Clara's oral obeisance, and I nervously touched her face as I summoned up the courage to kiss her again.

She offered no leads. She simply smiled as I struggled with my conscience and touched our mouths together clumsily. Following my instincts I used the tip of my tongue to tease her lips apart and then there was a sudden envelopment as I was welcomed within.

The feeling was one of incredible warmth and softness and I felt slightly euphoric but she was retaining complete control. I was lost in the moment but, for her, it was simply an indulgence as she took her true pleasure from Clara's skilful tongue.

Our mouths remained fused but she was putting in little effort save that her tongue became more animated when Clara touched a particular nerve. I needed to know that it meant something more to her than a simple amusement but any hope was dashed when she broke the embrace and pressed on my shoulder.

At first I resisted, uncertain what she intended, but then she applied a more purposeful pressure. In a single movement she pushed me down onto her breast and drew the blanket over my head.

The darkness was almost complete but there was something comforting about the immediate stillness and humid heat. As my senses adjusted I could hear the gentle, unhurried,

lapping of Clara's tongue and my nose was assailed by the thick scent of arousal.

It was much stronger than in my encounter with Natherson and it took a second or two to appreciate that it was not just Xander and Clara who were adding to the heady mix. I put my hand to my sex and found that I was leaking copiously.

Xander settled once more and I felt the firmness of her nipple pressed to my cheek. It was now obvious what she wanted from me but I was determined not to surrender altogether. I raised my head a little and, instead of using my mouth, I teased her engorged teat with the tips of my fingers.

She immediately sighed in contentment and I squeezed just a little more firmly, aware as I was of that fine line between perfect pleasure and impending pain. It was hard to gauge the effect I was having on her when compared to the undoubted arousal elicited by Clara's oral endeavours but she was breathing much more raggedly.

I do not know what possessed me to do it but I touched myself again and then rubbed my oiled fingers over the expanse of her breasts before returning my attention to her nipple. Pressed close, I could smell the reek of myself on her skin and I compounded my deviance as I began to lick.

I barely recognized the woman I had become but I felt alive in a way I had never felt before. All semblance of personal refinement was subsumed by the raw pleasure of debasing myself.

My body glowed with perspiration and I wondered how much warmer it must have been for Clara as she laboured untiringly only slowly picking up the tempo. At one point Xander took my hand and together we stroked Clara's hair as she impressed upon me just how devoted her little acolyte was.

At the finish she shivered into a long drawn out climax punctuated by a series of soft groans as she prolonged it until her body could give no more.

When it was over I lay against her breasts breathing the heated scent of her trapped beneath the covers aware that, even now, Clara continued to lick gently until, at some indiscernible signal, she was permitted to stop.

I reluctantly re-emerged from the soothing darkness and moved a little to allow Clara to take her place between us. Her face was red and her mouth, cheeks and chin shone with honeyed wetness but her eyes were those of a sated addict.




Her Cold War



Xander raised herself on one elbow and smiled at me.

"Kiss her..."

I needed no second bidding. I touched my lips to hers allowing the taste to slowly leach into my mouth and she remained still as I roamed more widely delicately licking the residue form her skin.

When I returned to my starting point she opened her lips in welcome and our tongues met as we shared Xander's essence. I gave a gentle moan and I could sense her watching us as we became inextricably bound by something more than physical.

Until then, I had harboured no strong feelings about Clara except to pity her a little for falling under Xander's influence but, right then, as we continued to kiss deeply, I was strongly aroused by the notion of our mutual submission.

She indulged us for a few moments more before parting us. She stroked a finger under Clara's chin but looked at me as she spoke.

"You've been a very good girl...I think you deserve a reward."

I swallowed hard and was instantly aware of the heat between my legs. The mere prospect of her making Clara go down on me almost made me come. She raised the covers and her eyes were still locked with mine as she spoke with quiet authority.

"Under you go..."

It took me a moment to comprehend. I looked at Clara but her sly smile revealed the truth as she slowly parted her legs.

I was torn by conflicting emotions. Rationally, I had no wish to abase myself to Clara but I was being driven by a more primitive desire. If I did this it had to be my turn next; I only had to show a little self-control.

It took an effort of will to settle myself on my stomach between her legs and I had no sooner done so than Xander closed me in.

I could feel the heat rising from Clara's sex and an impatient hand pressed down on my head through the covers. The first contact was like the squeezing of a sponge, as my face was suffused with moisture, and it was clear that Xander had not been the only one to reach a climax.

I extended my tongue and assayed the delicate pliancy of her labia which lolled lazily in post climatic repose. The taste of her was fresh and fulsome and I settled into an easy rhythm but I had to fight down a surge of envy as Xander rose over her and they began to kiss.

Immediately they did so Clara's sex began to leak and she entwined her ankles behind my back to keep me at my task.

I did the best I could in the hope it would not take long to bring her to the boil again but I sensed that I was a simply an adjunct. Xander was her true focus and even when I pressed deep inside her, stretching my tongue to the root, the reaction was eclipsed when Xander's hand sought out her breast.

Time seemed slowed down in the darkened confines of my personal cosmos concentrating my whole attention on the secret topography of her sex. I alternated long sweeps of my tongue with probing incursions and then used the very tip to dance on the swollen bud of her clitoris.

Her apparent indifference gradually gave way to a growing need as the tiny convulsions of her body accreted to an uncontrolled writhing. She clenched my head between her thighs, urging me on, and I sealed my mouth to her sex.

It was difficult to remain with her as her orgasm grew and her screams of encouragement were almost totally muted by the pressure of her legs against my ears. So it was a shock when my mouth was filled by a sudden gout of moisture which quickly became a flood.

My immediate fear was that she had lost control of herself but the taste was neutral with only a hint of her arousal. I swallowed rapidly to keep from choking but there seemed no end to it. Even as her body settled, beyond further exertion, there was a final trickle and then she relaxed her legs.

I lifted my head a little and took a deep, much needed, breath but then she pressed me back down making clear that I was far from finished...

Chapter 4

For two days I could not get my mind straight. Lily never reached the barn and, at daylight, we headed out to the road. We must have walked about two miles when we saw the truck parked up in a lay by but there was no sign of Lily and any questions about her whereabouts or welfare were gently but firmly rebuffed.

We barely spoke a word on the way back to the manor house and we were given the rest of the day to recover. That evening, over dinner, we exchanged pleasantries and I could not believe just how detached Xander and Clara appeared to be given all that had transpired.

After the meal, sitting in my room, I came to a decision. I had been excited, stimulated and intrigued by the training regime, and I was flattered even to be considered in the first place, but it was obvious that I had lost focus.

I had discovered things about myself that were unsettling to say the least and I needed to get away from the present closed environment in order to re-evaluate my life.

I drafted my resignation letter with a heavy heart but, once it was done, I slept easily for the first time in days.

I was awoken by a sharp knocking at the door half an hour before the alarm was set to go off. I was told to wash and dress and then present myself in the lecture room. In my hurry I left the resignation letter behind but, for now, curiosity got the better of me.

Xander and Clara were already there when I arrived and I took my place at the third desk. There were three men in the room that I had never seen before and, as soon as I was seated, they took up station behind each of us.

A fourth man, somewhat older than the other three, entered the room and put down a binder on each desk. Emblazoned on my copy was my name and the words "Secret -- Eyes Only"

I felt a surge of excitement confident that this was the moment that the whole training programme had been leading towards but, at the same time, I knew that I should make clear my intention. I sensed that, if I turned the page, there could be no going back.

"Ladies, please read at your own pace. You will not make notes and, as you finish each page, you will hand it to my colleagues."

It took me an hour to read the whole thing and, by the time I reached the end of it, any thoughts of resignation were completely forgotten. My personal tribulations and anxieties paled into insignificance and, after a lengthy hesitation, I signed the last page and thus sealed my fate.

That same day I was instructed to pack my belongings and I was transferred to a facility in the home counties. I had no idea if Xander or Clara had committed themselves but they did not accompany me.

I was tutored in isolation for a further six weeks and then, with an abruptness that startled me, I was told that the mission was on. I suspect that the deliberate lack of fuss was designed to give me no time to dwell on any or all of the things that might go wrong but the truth was that I was petrified.

A scheduled flight to Denmark was followed by a clandestine passage on a trawler to the port of Rostock and then I was completely on my own knowing that, if I was caught, I would be totally disavowed.

I was travelling as a Russian exchange student based in Nuremburg and my heart was in my mouth every time my papers were checked on the rail journey south.

On arrival the city itself seemed less drab than I imagined but the whole population seemed to walking along looking at their feet fearful of meeting anyone else's eye.

I checked in at the international student hostel, where I found myself the only occupant of a room for four, and slept fitfully after a bland, but inexpensive, meal of potato broth with schwarzbrot.

The following morning I rose early. It took two changes of bus to reach the prison and if I missed the connection there would not be another visiting day for a whole month.

The weather was as bleak as the journey and the women's annex of the famous prison, with its black begrimed stonework, looked like a vision of hell.

I presented myself at the gate with my visitor's blaukarte but I saw that the people in front of me were showing white documents. I was terrified that our intelligence was out of date but my card was only given a cursory glance before they stamped it and let me through.

We waited in a chilled inner courtyard for what seemed an age and then, with a shout of "Weissekarte!", everyone except for me was escorted in. With panic building I stood alone but then with a second shout of "Blaukarte!" I was invited forward.

As soon as I was inside I perceived the distinction. My documents were blue because I was visiting a foreign national and it had been made abundantly clear to me that I would find no love lost for Russians inside the GDR.

Two warders , in drab green uniforms, ushered me into an ante-room where a third, older woman, sat at a table. They stood behind me whilst the officer carried on writing deliberately ignoring me.

After a lengthy pause, sufficient to stress her self-importance, she lifted her eyes and looked me up and down.

"Take off your coat and raise your arms."

I did as she asked feeling vulnerable in my light cotton dress but at least the room was not as cold as it appeared. One of the guards came up behind me and began to run her hands over my body and her inspection was anything but cursory.

She lingered as she frisked each leg in turn reaching up beneath my skirt and she seemed to find the area around my bra particularly fascinating. She bade me turn round and she looked into my eyes as she patted down my back.

She was of a similar build to me, and perhaps not much older, but there was a menacing solidity to her. Her pale blue eyes and full mouth would have made her pretty were it not for the fact that her face seemed fixed in a permanent sneer.

When she had finished she gave a non-committal shrug and the officer barked out.

"Get undressed."

I looked at her in disbelief even though I had braced myself for the eventuality.

"Is this absolutely necessary?"

She stared at me for an uncomfortable few seconds before she spoke again.

"Take her card and show her out to the street."

The coldness of her dismissal took me unawares but I quickly recovered myself.

"No. Wait. I'll do as you ask."

I thought that I caught the faintest hint of a smile about her mouth as I unzipped my dress and let it drop to the floor. As I did so one of the guards placed a wooden chair in the middle of the room.

"Take everything off, spread your legs, and bend over the chair."

It took a tremendous act of will to actually do it. I told myself that, for them, this was a routine, every day, occurrence and that I was just another body to be processed but there was something disturbing in the way that the officer now looked at me.

I prostrated myself over the back of the chair and tried to breath normally as I watched the guard cross to the sink. She looked back at me as she made great play of washing her hands and the bizarre thought crossed my mind that she had a pianist's fingers.

She dried off using a wad of tissues and then she picked up a tube of clear gel. Unhurriedly, she squeezed some into her palm and then slowly rubbed her hands together.

The clack of her block heeled shoes sounded unnaturally loud as she walked back behind me and I could feel my whole body tensing. The officer nodded, presumably giving permission to start.

"Don't fight it. Try to relax."

I bit my tongue, trying not to flinch as she put her hand between my legs and cupped my pudendum.

I suppose I considered her a peasant and so I was surprised at the warmth of her touch and the softness of her fingers. Seconds passed as I braced myself for the inevitable intrusion but she began to carefully rub lubricant over my whole mound.

I became acutely aware of her middle finger but instead of threatening it traced a tight circle at the apex of my sex. It took a moment to appreciate that she had broached my labia but then a charge surged through my body.

She was applying a gentle but insistent pressure to my clitoris and when I gave an involuntary gasp she rocked the very tip of her finger back and forth in a barely perceptible motion.

A wave of pleasure, as unexpected as it was intense, shook me and I felt my legs go weak. I had to shuffle my feet to stop myself from collapsing but she did not miss a beat. As she carried on stimulating me I glanced at the officer who smiled back with a knowing look.

I started to count in my head, trying to distract myself, but the touch of her finger was impossible to ignore. I felt a flush of heat across my body and my nipples had become embarrassingly erect.

There was no doubt that, given just a little longer, I would have melted into orgasm and I was torn between fighting it or simply surrendering. At that moment her finger moved and, with unseemly ease, she slid it deep inside me.

I heard, as she did, the tell-tale squelch of moisture and I squirmed with embarrassment but still nothing was said. It might still have been deemed a legitimate search process but the result of her probing was the revealing of nerve endings that I did not know existed.

She was now concentrating on a spot just inside but the sensations almost matched those from my clitoris. I could feel myself flooding in response and I could smell my own arousal.

Time seemed frozen as my muscles alternately tensed and relaxed in that familiar way which signalled the onset of an intense climax but she remained completely in control easing off every few seconds only to lift me once more.

I had my eyes closed but I was still all too aware of my alien surroundings. I tried to wrench myself back to reality but when I opened my eyes I was not prepared for what confronted me.

The officer had slouched in her chair and beneath the table I could see that she had raised her skirt revealing her utilitarian stockings and a complete absence of underwear.

Her fingers were lost in the dark thicket of hair that covered her sex and I wanted to feel disgust but the perverted image only added to my own pleasurable torment.

With her uniform awry she looked more human and I found myself reappraising her. She was possibly in her late thirties with dyed black hair that seemed at odds with her hazel eyes but her make-up was skilfully applied. Her stern expression had eased and her tight lips now appeared more fulsome.

She was of medium height and carried a little weight but she had the shapely legs of a ubiquitous East German cyclist.

Now that she had my attention she opened herself a little revealing a moist pinkness that stood in stark contrast to the dark surrounds and it was clear that she had been aroused from the moment I entered the room.

I tried to focus on my mission but my rational mind was being overwhelmed by baser instincts. The girl found my clitoris again and I cursed my weakness as I pushed back just a little.

As soon as I hinted at assent I felt the intimidating thickness of her thumb issuing a renewed threat. Every impulse drove me to resist but I knew that I had to submit. Her finger quickened, taking me ever nearer, and then, with a single purposeful push her thumb pressed home.

The immediate feeling was one of gross discomfort but the motion of her finger was unrelenting and my body flexed and shifted reaching a tolerable accommodation. I had prepared myself for this contingency but that did not make the reality of it any less degrading.

If there was still the pretence of a bodily search then she knew that I was not hiding anything but she seemed in no hurry to bring the proceedings to a close. Her thumb and finger began working in harmony, as if reaching for one another across the divide, and I could feel my muscles relaxing.

The intense feeling from my clitoris began to predominate once more but she was now determining the degree of pressure from both front and rear.

The officer smiled as she witnessed my internal conflict and her finger burrowed deeper as she brought her thumb into play on her clitoris.

I could feel perspiration beading in the small of my back but I continued to grip the chair almost manically as my mind shouted no whilst, at the same time, my body cried out for release. I almost despaired as her finger slipped away only to appreciate that she was now bearing me up with the touch of her thumb alone.

It was as if someone were stimulating my sex whilst wearing a heavy glove. The sensation was indistinct but it was certain. I began to writhe with increasing determination as she continued to press rhythmically and then I was only remotely aware of their laughter as I was drained by a muscle sapping orgasm.

She released me but I remained in place over the back of the chair as I panted for breath. I could feel a tickling trail of moisture on my inner thigh and, much as I wanted to clean myself up, I did not want to give them an excuse for more amusement at my expense.

I looked towards the officer, hoping that I would be dismissed, but she was still posed with her sex lewdly on display. She held my eyes for the space of a few seconds and then, with the slightest of smiles, she beckoned me with a single finger.

I raised myself uncertainly and approached the table. I stood before her covering myself with my hands as best I could. I was praying that I had done enough but her next words quashed any hope I might have had.

"How badly do you need this visit?"

There was no need for her to say more. The choice was mine but, in reality, there was no choice at all. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest but, for a moment, I could not move. I felt remote from my own body, as if trying to wake from a dream, but I was caught in a living nightmare.

I heard murmurs behind me as I slowly dropped to my knees and I was glad of the partial screening offered by the table top as I crouched beneath it. Small impressions imposed themselves; the coarseness of the threadbare carpet and the bare wood smell of the cheap table but these were mere distractions.

I was expected to serve and, before me, was the thick nap of her sex heavily scented by her arousal. I could feel the heat of her as I moved closer and the leaden folds of her labia looked forbidding.

I was glad that she could not see as I put out my tongue only to fearfully withdraw it again but I was only postponing the inevitable. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and licked blindly.

The taste was astringent, not at all what I was braced for, and I had to steel myself to carry on. I licked again and her labia cloyed heavily against my tongue but this time it was less distasteful.

The compulsion to hurry things along was strong but I knew that I would not get away with it and an admonitory rap on the table top instructed me to perform with a little more feeling.

It became apparent that the sharpness was the residue of a cheap soap and, once it had disappeared altogether, my mouth was filled with the full earthiness of her womanhood. It had an almost soporific effect and, for a brief moment, I was able to forget the others.

Her labia were sensitive in proportion to their size and, as I licked each in turn, they yielded up tiny dewdrops of arousal.

I was actively seeking out her taste, pushing my tongue deeper, and in response she peeled herself open with her fingers.

For a second I was transfixed by the wedding band on her right ring finger. The gilt coating was chipped revealing the bare steel beneath, suggestive of a long relationship, and I wondered if her husband knew anything of this.

The fleeting contemplation was erased by the raw scent that suddenly engulfed me. The deep well of her sex was a livid red and, at its heart, was an opalescent pool.

I stared for a second or two torn by conflicting feelings. On the one hand I wanted to turn away but the sheer carnality of what I was seeing held me in its sway.

I felt my mouth moistening of its own volition and my head seemed impossibly heavy. The gap between us slowly closed and I lapped at her with the flat of my tongue. The richness overflowed and pervaded my whole body, bringing me dangerously close to a second climax, and I had to fight for control.




Her Cold War



Her fingers moved slightly presenting the nub of her engorged clitoris and I purposefully bestowed my attention. It was then only a matter of seconds before her legs tensed and the heels of her shoes scraping the floor heralded the imminence of her orgasm.

As her body shook she tried to maintain her composure but I could hear her breathing hard through her nose. I held station and counted it a minor victory as I worked the tip of my tongue and caused her to cry out in relief.

She seemed embarrassed by the evident loss of self-possession and she rose quickly to her feet and adjusted her skirt. I was dragged from beneath the table and told to get dressed before I was brusquely escorted from the room.

I tried to clean my face as best I could as I was led deeper into the bowels of the building by the same guard who had so recently taken advantage of me.

We arrived at a small meeting hall which could accommodate three prisoners at any one time separated from their visitors by a heavy glass screen. I was the only person present and I took the far most seat and proceeded to wait.

After about five minutes the prisoner was brought in to take her place on the opposite side of the screen. I caught the flicker of surprise in her eyes as she was confronted by a total stranger but she quickly recovered and took a seat.

There were a series of small holes in the pane to allow for conversation and I greeted her in Russian. She replied in the same language but the guard, who had remained in the room with me, barked out.

"German only!"

I cast my eyes around the room checking for surveillance but the prisoner smiled at me before speaking in perfect German.

"Don't worry. They don't listen. I'm in here for black marketeering not as a political prisoner. Your Russian is good but you're not a native. Have you been sent to help me?"

I had considered my approach to this at some length and decided that I needed to be as straight-forward as possible.

"I'm sorry I can't be of assistance to you but I am hoping to be of some help to Tanechka."

Her shock on hearing the name was evident but she recovered quickly.

"I do not know anyone by that name."

"She has disappeared and I am trying to find her. Do you know where she might be?"

I saw her wrestling with her dilemma. She had no way of knowing who I was but only someone very close would understand the significance of the name. Her sister's given name was Raisa but, as a child, she had her grandmother Tatiana's looks and so the immediate family had taken to calling her by the diminutive variant 'Tanechka'.

I was taken by surprise when she quickly got to her feet clearly bringing our meeting to a close; I could not believe that I had been through so much only to draw a blank. There was still a chance that the others might succeed but it did not make my own failure any easier to take.

She turned to look at me one last time and I saw something in her eyes. It took a second or two to recognize it as an entreaty. She spoke almost in a whisper.

"In the street at with Adam and Eve at eleven"

I wanted to shout after her, to find out more, but she was already moving towards the door on her side of the screen. Her cryptic remark gave me hope but at the same time I was completely perplexed.

I sat lost in thought until the guard took me by the arm and led me away. We retraced our steps until we reached the examination room. The officer was no longer there but the other guard was waiting with an insolent smile on her face.

As we entered she moved across to block the exit and folded her arms across her chest.

I looked about me with a sense of foreboding and my worst fears were realized when my escort reached under her skirt and removed her underwear.

I had what I needed now and I just wanted to get away. I stepped towards the door but the guard's hand dropped towards the truncheon dangling from her belt. My training kicked in and I instinctively took up a defensive stance. I knew that I could get the better of both of them but my cover would immediately be blown.

I reined myself in and, as they took hold of me, I shouted and struggled but I had to let them win. They dragged me across to the table and, as they forced me to lie on my back, I caught one of them a glancing blow with my elbow.

The bigger guard freed her truncheon and I did not put up any further resistance as her colleague took hold of some webbing belts and pulled my arms down to lash them to the legs of the table.

The surface was narrow but I was still painfully stretched. I half expected them to strip me of my clothes but it was not to be. My escort wasted no time as she mounted the table and pinned my already tortured shoulders with her knees.

I caught the briefest glimpse of her denuded sex before she moved forward and covered my head with her heavy skirt. She had clearly worn it for some days as I was swamped by a stale fug but it was underscored by the heated scent of stimulation.

She must have been aroused for a long time for the smell clung to her inner thighs and strengthened as she settled herself over my face.

The only thing to do, loathsome as it might be, was to have it over with as soon as possible. I stretched out my tongue to find that her sex was not as smooth as it appeared at first glance. The tight clam was dressed with a fine growth that irritated and I forced myself to lick broadly to soften the barbs.

I worked blindly in my gloomy prison seeking out her labia but her sex was surprisingly tight. I worked along the length of her slit but it was some moments before I achieved success. She pressed herself more positively against my mouth and I was able to push inside.

It was like the opening of a dam. My face, already damp with perspiration, was made wetter by her outpouring and I felt starved of air. I tried not to panic and kept my tongue deeply rooted which seemed much to her liking.

She moved fractionally and began to work her clitoris against the bridge of my nose. I was being used and there was nothing that I could do about it but her movements were becoming less controlled. The pressure on my face was painful but then she came to a sudden stop and her sex pulsed as if imbued with a life of its own.

Her climax ranged through a series of peaks and troughs, as she tried to stretch out the moments of pleasure, and I could feel every nuance, until, at last, it ebbed away altogether.

When it was done she got up quickly and I blinked in the sudden brightness whilst feeling the rooms chill against my wet face. I waited to be released but a whispered exchange between the two women made me fearful.

The second guard smiled coldly at me and began to quickly take off her skirt. She was wearing institutional stockings underneath but they did nothing to flatter her thick thighs and their gray colour clashed with her grubby white pants.

She approached the table and took off her underwear to reveal a bush of russet curls which was markedly at odds with her bleached blonde hair.

Following her partners lead she clumsily mounted the table which creaked alarmingly beneath her added weight. There was no subtlety in her approach as she straddled me and rested heavily on my face. It was immediately difficult to breath not helped by the fact that she had liberally dusted herself with cheap talc.

There was no escaping my fate but I refused to cooperate until she relented a little. My vision was filled by overhang of her heavy belly until she shifted her weight so that she could look at my face.

My defiance seemed to amuse her and it was obvious that she had had experience of this. In a single ungainly movement she turned herself about so that she was facing down my body but in that all too brief moment of respite I caught sight of her colleague removing the leather belt from her skirt.

The implication was eclipsed by the frightening mass of her buttocks which hovered inches above my face. I could not stop myself from screaming a protest but it was snuffed out as, with a mocking wiggle, she relaxed and sealed me in.

My head was being crushed against the solid table top but that was the least of my worries. My nose was buried deep in her lubricious cleft and I was all but starved of air.

I tried to kick her but she simply grabbed my ankles and pulled them up to her shoulders. I was hideously exposed but any attempt at a struggle was completely futile. My pants were pushed up my legs laying me bare and then a blaze of pain exploded across my vulnerable cheeks.

It was hard to believe that a simple leather belt could cause such anguish but then she struck me twice more in quick succession. My ears were blocked by her solid calves and the sound of each stroke reached me like a dampened body blow.

I emitted a tight-lipped scream but that too was swallowed by the fleshy bulk that enclosed me. There was a long pause as I tensed waiting for further punishment but it did not come. Instead, she eased off allowing me a much needed lungful of air.

My respite did not last long. Her body sagged once more pressing the amorphous wetness of her sex tightly against my mouth. I was reminded of the time, as a child, when I covered my face with a wet chamois leather and I was almost overwhelmed by the pungency.

I started to lick blindly, trying to find a way through that would give her what she demanded of me. I could not stretch my tongue far enough to reach her clitoris but I finally managed to achieve a degree of penetration.

Once inside she was surprisingly tight and there was a positive response. She began to rock her hips, encouraging me to go deeper, but every movement added to the ache that engulfed my face.

To add to my torment I could feel the belt being tapped threateningly against my already reddened flesh but the initial pain had given way to an impression of heat that spread both to my thighs and my groin.

I tried to ignore the resultant tingling in my sex, as I swallowed repeatedly to stop myself from choking, but each time I allowed myself to surrender to it the greater pain subsided.

To displace myself I began to recite "The Wasteland" in my head but I got no further than '... a heap of broken images". My distraction must have been apparent to her as she tightened her grip on my ankles and the belt added another painful stripe.  

I fought down my anger and gave her my full attention but now, at last, she leaned forward and I was able to lick at the crown of her sex.

Her bulging clitoris lay open to me but it lacked firmness and it was difficult to remain engaged. I gave up on subtlety and licked positively with the flat of my tongue. It still demanded an effortful extension, and I was tiring quickly, but the pale mass above me began to shiver and then quake.

Her climax was powerful but mercifully short-lived and, after a moments rest, when it felt as if I was bearing her total weight, she arose perfunctorily and quickly got herself dressed.

They released me and gave me a stale towel to clean myself up but I still looked, and felt, a total mess. I left the prison as quickly as I could and faced the dreary prospect of an hours wait for the first of the buses.

Chapter 5

Back at the hostel I took a long tepid shower but I still felt infused by the stench of the prison. I made my way back to my room but stood frozen with shock when I saw who was sitting on my bed.

Her hair had been re-styled and her expensive dress fitted her in such a way that it revealed a previously unappreciated femininity. I also noticed that her makeup was differently applied but it seemed more natural and gave her whole face a new aspect.

Once I was past the initial sense of disbelief I was fearful but she got up from the bed and hurried across to hug me warmly. It was a few seconds before I could frame a question.

"What happened to you that night? I met up with Xander and Clara but they wouldn't tell us where you were."

Lily smiled at me and invited me to sit beside her on the bed.

"They wanted you to think that I had failed. I guess that the plan was always to use all four of us but you were left believing that there would just be three. I, on the other hand, thought that I was acting alone."

In light of the background to the mission it made some sort of perverted sense. When the whole of the East German network was betrayed it was believed that the traitor was in country but there had to be a possibility that the leak could have come from the U.K.

By training us from scratch, with no connections to those with previous involvement, it was hoped that we would remain untainted but, now, her very presence here was setting all sorts of alarm bells ringing.

"If you thought you were alone why did you try to find me...and how did you know where I would be?"

She smiled smugly as she replied.

"My contact was Raisa's aunt in Potsdam. She had no idea where Raisa could be but she did tell me that her sister was in prison down here. My exit route is through Czechoslovakia and so I had to come south anyway."

It was only en route to here that it occurred to me that the sister was probably another designated target and so I thought I had better make sure that I wasn't getting in anyone else's way before I tried to make contact with her".

My cover uses high price hotels and so I tried the two most expensive in town without a result but then, to make doubly sure, I checked at the other extreme and lo and behold."

She made it all seem frighteningly simple and I wondered if I would have been capable of the same train of thought. The obvious danger was that, if Lily had put it together so easily, then so could someone else.

She must have sensed my unease.

"It was easier for me. I knew who I was looking for and beautiful looking Russian speakers are few and far between in East Germany."

As she said it she must have realized just how vulnerable that made us because I saw a momentary hesitation in her eyes but there had been no choice. Raisa was not only the one single member of the East German station who had not been taken but also the only woman.

Her last message out had said two things. She was on the run with the micro-fiche archive in her possession and she would only allow herself to be contacted by a female operative.

That the archive was invaluable was evidenced by the haste with which the whole mission had been put together and the appalling risks we were running. To find prospective candidates speaking both Russian and German must have been hard enough but then to entrust us with what we now knew was a desperate throw of the dice.

Lily hugged me again and I was grateful for the human contact. She was wearing an expensive scent and I breathed in the cleanness of it. For a few seconds it felt as if things were back to normal and I drew strength from our renewed camaraderie.

She broke from me gently but still held my arm as she spoke.

"So, did you visit the prison?"

I hesitated for a second before carefully framing my answer.

"I spoke to her sister...but there was nothing positive."

I expected her to press, as I would probably have one in her place, but her next question was unexpected.

"Was it a bad experience?"

I looked at her wondering what I could say but she forestalled me as she stroked my hand and spoke again

"I understand. They never said it straight out at the manor but they made it clear enough that Raisa was a lesbian and there was a strong chance that we would get exposed to the netherworld if we embarked on this.

For Clara and I it was easy, and Xander is clearly bisexual, but I was never certain about you."

For a few seconds I struggled to frame a rational thought. It had been obvious, almost from the outset, and certainly before Natherson had expressed it so explicitly, that I might have to be prepared to compromise myself but I never foresaw this.  

Suddenly things became clearer. Clara was right in that Raisa's sexuality was never overtly discussed and now it seemed that we had been expected to reach our own conclusion and our reaction to it was part of the process.

It never occurred to me that the paring down of our original group was based on anything other than intellectual rigour and our field craft prowess but now I saw that there was another component.

I replayed Lily's words in my mind and it was as if she could read my thoughts. Her smile told me that she was, indeed, a lesbian but what of me? I had always seen myself married with children but that was, in part, my natural instinct to conform to the social norms but the past few weeks had demonstrated to me that there was something out of kilter.

I had changed into flannelette pyjamas when I got out of the shower and Lily's stroking fingers moved beneath the baggy sleeve and just a little further up my arm.

"...you are truly beautiful."

I wanted to pull away but her eyes held me in a hypnotic embrace. They were the darkest brown and there was a brightness in them that brought her face alive in a way I had never perceived before. She reached with her other hand to touch my cheek.  

"You are probably the most intelligent woman I have ever met but I think it blinds you to the truth about yourself. There is no shame in wanting to be led; it's just the way that some women, like us, find fulfilment."

On one level her words made no sense but, on another, it was as if a securely locked door in my mind was now ajar.

I shivered and she squeezed my hand reassuringly before drawing me to my feet. She stood before me and let her arms drop to her sides.

"Undress me."

I wanted to protest, to tell her that she was completely wrong, but the room moved out of focus as she held my eyes with hers and I felt suffused with an eerie calm. Time stood still as she waited unhurriedly and I saw that she was not going to force the issue but she appeared supremely confident.

I felt the urge to challenge her, to shake her equilibrium, and I did not look down as I reached forward to unfasten the top button of her dress.

Her next breath was just a little deeper as I worked my way down slowly opening one button at a time until the dress parted to reveal her expensive underwear.

I held her gaze until she sloped her shoulders allowing the dress to slip to the floor then she stepped back a pace and I could no longer resist. My eyes roamed over her and my expectations were confounded.

I considered her a natural athlete but her honed body was beautifully curved. She obviously carried more weight than me but it was perfectly distributed. Her lacy bra emphasised the uplift of her rounded breasts and hinted at the distension of her nipples.

A matching half slip girded her narrow waist and flared gently over the fullness of her hips drawing my eyes to her long stocking clad legs which were lent a greater prominence by her high stiletto heels.

Her pale skin looked flawless and she truly was the beautiful swan made manifest.

I looked into her eyes again but this time a little uneasily. I saw there a depth of experience and a full understanding of the effect that she was having on me.

Without a word she gathered the pillows from the vacant beds and arranged carefully them on mine before turning back to me.

"Come and unfasten my shoes..."

This time there could be no equality. To do as she asked I would have to go down on my knees and the connotation implicit in this was obvious to both of us.

A flush of heat broke over me and I could feel the betraying redness in my cheeks. I was desperately treading water on the surface of sanity but I could feel myself slowing succumbing to the depths.

My legs were suddenly weak and it felt steadier simply to kneel. I asked myself what I thought I was doing but the answer was obvious. Almost in a daze I reached forward and, with trembling hands, I unbuckled each shoe in turn.




Her Cold War



As I loosened the straps she stepped out of her heels but she still loomed over me. Her legs were beautifully shaped and I yearned to run my fingers over the black silk to where the bare flesh of her thighs was sensuously framed by her garter straps.

She forestalled me as she tugged suggestively at her slip and, in obedience, I slid my fingers into the elasticated waist and pulled it down to her ankles. I was left staring at the fine detail of her embroidered panties, contemplating what lay within, but now there were no further hints or instructions.

It was left to me to decide my own fate. I could retreat, with some vestige of my dignity intact, or I confirmed all that had been suggested. I was so close that I could feel the heat emanating from her and her exotic perfume was now accentuated by her natural musk.

I cursed my own weakness but I was overwhelmed by the need to live in that moment. It was almost like watching someone else's hands as I reverently removed her panties.

Assured now of my acquiescence she casually took off her bra and took her place on the bed propped up by the pile of pillows.

She looked regal and I stared at her imperious breasts. They were heavy but they were perfectly in proportion to her build and the brown hue of her nipples was beautifully defined.

She allowed me time to gaze upon her before she slowly opened her legs and raised her knees and I found it difficult to breathe normally. This was not the Lily I knew but, instead, some fantasy made flesh.

Her immaculately depilated sex was a plump upswell from which the pink tips of her labia provocatively peeped. I stood captivated and felt a growing heat between my legs.

She smiled, glancing a single finger along the length of her cleft where the light caught the hint of moisture. I closed my eyes for the briefest moment and I could almost taste her.

I approached the bed and laid down between her legs whilst I waited for permission to begin but she was in no hurry. She touched her finger to my nose, letting me have a hint of her scent, and then she teased her labia once more.

I saw the wetness of her finger as she brushed my lips and sensed her amusement as I licked the taste from them.

I could wait no longer, as she was well aware, and she settled more deeply into the pile of pillows to accept my obeisance.

I wanted to fall upon her and take my fill but I restrained myself and started with a series of butterfly kisses along the fringes of her labia. I was rewarded as they tinged to a more vivid shade of pink and bloomed open glistening wetly.

I sighed audibly as I ran the tip of my tongue along the whole length and then rolled the taste of her around my mouth. It acted like an aphrodisiac sensitizing my whole body, not least my sex, and I felt myself leaking.

I licked again, this time more positively, and she yielded moisture to me thrilling my tongue. Looking up I saw that she was lazily teasing her nipples whilst she watched me at my labour and, for the first time, I fully appreciated just how rare a beauty she possessed.

I remained lost in her for an insanely long time as I quested with my tongue to find her particular points of sensitivity but being careful to circumvent her clitoris. She came twice, each time with a deep sigh, but we both knew that it was just the precursor.

Beads of perspiration were beginning to form in the valley of her breasts and the bedding was long since ruined but the scales had tipped. I sensed that her need was more than just physical and that knowledge warmed me.

My jaw was tiring and my neck muscles were beginning to stiffen but any discomfort was forgotten as I finally moved upwards and began to lick in slowly diminishing circles at the arch of her sex.

Her clitoris was deep seated but in the course of my ministrations it had become beautifully distended and felt like a perfect pearl as I softly drew it between my lips.

She was more sensitive to one side than the other and I balanced the strokes of my tongue accordingly. Each time she got close I eased off a little and then carefully stoked her need once more.

Her whole body was tensed, awaiting the moment, and her breathing had become a constant whimper.

I was adrift in my own personal nirvana. My face ran with warm nectar and her taste and scent flooded my senses. I had resisted the urge to touch myself but I was now beguilingly close to a climax of my own

I sucked at her tenderly, flicking my tongue with increased fervour, and this time I did not deny her. All control lost, she held me tightly to her with both hands as her whole body was powerfully convulsed.

I was thrilled that I could bring her to this pinnacle and, as she screamed with the joy of it, I groaned deep into her sex as my body resonated with a shattering orgasm

We lay still for a long time as we recovered and I gently stroked her relaxed sex which looked lovely in repose.

Finally, and with great reluctance, I knew that reality had to be faced. I got up from the bed and reached for a towel in preparation for another shower. As I did so she took hold of my hand and stood up in front of me.

I started to speak but she put a finger to my lips and then began to strip me of my damp clothing.

I remained still, barely breathing, and then she slowly went to her knees. She reached around me and lovingly ran her hands over the curves of my behind before leaning in to kiss me softly on the stomach.

My whole body shivered with a nervous anticipation but she took her time. Over the ensuing minutes she kissed her way down my body, lingering on my thighs, and then she coaxed me to move my feet apart.

I felt discomforted by my exposure but, at the same time, I was incredibly aroused. My sex was leaking freely and she bowed her head to catch up the flow from inside my leg. I was familiar with the term weak at the knees but now, for the first time in my life, I truly understood it.

She enfolded my legs with her arms and held me steady as she pressed her face to my sex and I bit back a scream as I felt the first touch of her tongue.

She allowed me to settle before she reapplied herself, licking the whole of my mons, and I could feel my sex opening in welcome.

I was embarrassed by the resultant seepage but, when she sealed her mouth to my sex and gently sucked, I thought I would die from the sheer pleasure of the sensation.

I could have climaxed from this alone but she had barely started. Her tongue began a sinuous, knowing, invasion and it was as if I did not know myself at all. She triggered dormant nerve endings that gradually brought my whole body alive and held me in a state of perfect tension.

I had never experienced such exquisite torture. I could feel the pulsing of my clitoris as it cried out to be caressed but still she held back.

I was breathing raggedly and my body was sheened with perspiration as I started to plead with her in a desperate whisper.

When, at last, she slid her tongue free and focused on the apex of my sex her touch was, at first, almost imperceptible. It felt as if she was licking so gently that I could feel a viscous barrier between us. The tip of her tongue swirled in this way over the whole of my clitoris making it feel larger and more sensitive than I had ever known it.

I had reached the point of no return and, fully aware, she began to apply a more positive pressure flicking her tongue with a barely creditable rapidity.

I no longer had control of my body. It was a slave to her oral skills and I cried out as the first waves of release physically shook me. I closed my eyes but still felt blinded by an astonishing brightness and I am sure that, for a second of two, I lost consciousness.

I gasped a lungful of air but the sense of soaring exultation still held me tightly. Each time I thought I would have to give in she bore me aloft once more almost draining me of life.

At the finish I could no longer stand and, recognizing the danger, she supported me until I fell face first onto the bed.

Even now, my body was racked by blissful aftershocks and Lily lay down beside me and gently stroked my back as I tried to regain some semblance of control.

It was minutes later before I could consider trying to raise myself not least because Lily's continuing caress was wonderfully calming. Eventually, I forced myself to sit up but my ebbing orgasm was rekindled as I looked down at her.

She lay on her front with her head resting on one arm whilst the other was stretched across the space I had just vacated. She had come to rest on top of the pillows and her behind was raised.

It looked so beautifully smooth and perfectly sculpted and I moved slightly to take in the whole magnificent sweep of her curves. I felt impelled to run my hand over the taut contours but I was overcome by an even greater urge.

Without thought, I leaned over her and kissed gently at the highest point, causing her to sigh softly. Emboldened, I kissed again and then playfully licked at her slightly salty skin.

This time she stretched and raised herself a little higher to make her sex more available. I was taken by surprise, thinking that we were done, but it was I who had initiated things and, much to my own astonishment, I was becoming aroused.

The distension of her body parted her cheeks immodestly and my eyes were drawn to the tight opening that was revealed. My reaction was not as I would have expected and I found myself transfixed. Her natural complexion shaded to a darker hue and formed a perfect pout.

My conscience, shaped by a strict church upbringing, screamed at me but by that measure I was already damned. More recently, when bringing myself some relief my fingers had ventured lower and I was shocked by the potent reaction that I was able to illicit.

I had even tried to climax but, whilst I was content to rub, I could not break the greater taboo.

I wanted to lick the inviting wetness of her sex but I was driven by a more primal urge. As I battled with myself I kissed the flexed muscle of her perineum and her body froze as she divined the possibility.

I kissed a second time, indecision immobilizing me, and then Lily whispered almost inaudibly.

"Please..."

Emboldened, I closed my eyes and extended my tongue. The mottled texture hinted at the latent tension, and I was tempted to lick boldly, but the merest touch made her squirm and groan out loud.

I reined in and continued using the tip of my tongue to lick at the rim all the while remaining surprised by the power of her reaction. After a few minutes it was obvious that she had gathered the strength for yet another climax and I tried to gauge when the moment was right to feast myself on her sex.

In seeming desperation she raised herself a little. As she did so I felt a distinct relaxation. Where, before, there had been a sense of unassailability there was now a positive yielding.

Consumed by a temporary insanity, and driven by my carnal instincts, I firmed my tongue and applied a steady pressure. When, even now, it seemed impossible I tried harder still until I managed an initial, tenuous lodgement.

Lily was held in a paroxysm as, for a second or two, I paused for breath and gathered myself. Placing my hands on her cheeks I made one final effort and suddenly I was through.

The pressure was painful to begin with but then the tension eased and I was able to flex my tongue inside her. It was cooler than her sex but I could still taste her leaked arousal. It was combined with the clean hint of soap and something reminiscent of damp earth reinforced by the suggestion of perspiration on her skin.

Some part of me was still appalled but I was too far gone. Her muscles were squeezing me importunately and I tried to match her natural rhythm. She began to sob and I felt joyfully empowered knowing now that it was only a matter of time.

I speared my tongue as deep as I could and held fast. At once her body shuddered and she gave a silent scream as the piercing pleasure of her orgasm overcame her.

For some seconds afterwards she did not move and I grew concerned but then she turned to me and smiled.

"Make yourself comfortable...it's your turn."

Chapter Six

Afterwards, we lay together and talked for hours. Lily confessed that she had become aware of her true sexuality at an early age but, nevertheless, she had tried to form relationships with men.

With every failure her self-esteem suffered more and she considered her decision to join the armed forces an unconscious attempt to have someone else forge her identity. In reality, it was her initial exposure to women of like mind and she felt liberated for the first time in her life.

More shockingly, she told me that she was attracted to me from the first day we met but she recognized in me someone undergoing the same torments she had endured.

That night, in spite of the comforting presence of her naked body, I slept uneasily but, at some point, I had an inspired moment. I thought that I now understood the message that Riasa's sister had given me.

The following morning I anguished over my dilemma. I desperately wanted to place my trust in Lily but, even now, I could not be completely certain. I showered and dressed and told her that there was something I must do. I saw, immediately, the anguish in her eyes but there was also an understanding. She would have done the same if she stood in my shoes.

My conjecture was that the message referred to the artist Albrecht Dürer who had painted 'Adam and Eve' in the sixteenth century. He was a resident of Nuremberg and his home was preserved as a museum on the street bearing his name.

A brisk ten minute walk brought me to the Dürer house at number thirty-nine but my interest was in number eleven. I walked past without breaking stride noting the philatelist shop at street level and apartments above.

Some minutes later I walked back the other way and took up station at the corner of Angnesgasse which gave me a more studied view of the building.

I had only been stationed there for a minute or two when I felt a pressure in the small of my back and my heart stopped.

"Do not say anything. Walk to the end of the street, turn right, and sit on the first bench that you see."

My relief at not being arrested was only slight and I did as I was told without looking back. I sat for half an hour before I was joined by a woman in a nondescript gray raincoat with a mismatched scarf.

Beneath the scarf she was bleached blonde but I recognized her at once. I almost spoke her name but she tersely cautioned me to silence.

"I cannot believe that they have employed such amateurs. Your friends, I assume that they are your friends, were taken yesterday and now you turn up equally inept."

I was struggling to take her withering remarks on board but I gathered myself quickly. "Describe these 'friends'."

She gave a brief description and there could be no doubt that she had seen Xander and Clara.

"Where would they have taken them?"

"For now, to the police headquarters. They were posing as street walkers, which was a clever idea, except that the municipality has recently ordered a crack down."

"What will happen to them?"

"If their papers hold up, and they can afford a bribe, they will probably be in front of a judge tomorrow and they will be fined and released."

"And if the papers don't hold up?"

"Then the Stasi will be informed."

She did not need to say any more and my mind was racing.

"You don't think the arrest was anything to do with you?"

"No, I only left the clue with two people and I have been watching the street for weeks to see who showed up. Your friends were unlucky but I assume you understand the importance of getting me out of the country?"

She was correct in her surmise. I desperately thought of any way that I might be able to help Xander and Clara but, with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew that they would have to be sacrificed if that was the price of getting Raisa out.

I thought for a moment or two longer and then, in a frightening moment of clarity, I took a firm hold on Raisa's arm.

"Tell me everything you know about police headquarters...."

Chapter Seven

The basement bar was dark, hot and uninviting with a pall of cigarette smoke forming a noxious cloud at ceiling level and I had been seated alone, nursing a beer, for almost an hour.

My fear was that I would see someone from the prison that might recognize me but so far my luck had held. I noted that the warders present wore their uniforms and this seemed to be a signal to anyone who was interested that they available.

The remaining clientele were a very mixed group. Some were dressed and presented in such a way that they could be taken for men others looked almost prepubescent. Raisa assured me that the bar was infamous but it was tolerated because, as well as being a haunt for the staff from the prison, it appealed to a number of senior female apparatchiks.

I was beginning to despair when two more warders came in. The first was a heavy set woman who made her uniform look shapeless but the other was a more likely candidate. She was of a more modest build and not altogether unattractive.

She had short, red, hair and, by local standards, a dark complexion. Her face was pretty albeit her make--up was a little garish and I was guessing that she was in her early thirties.

She and her colleague ordered drinks at the bar and then began to survey the room. When her eyes drifted in my direction I smiled and raised my glass just a fraction. I knew that I was being brazen but time was not on my side.

She turned to her friend and they exchanged a conspiratorial laugh before she rose from her bar stall and crossed to my table.

I held to my cover story and introduced myself as an exchange student and, within minutes, I had established that her name was Franziska and that she had worked in the prison service for more than ten years.

She seemed enamoured of me but that was not enough. I had to escalate things and quickly. When, after a second drink, she excused herself to use the toilet I gave her a moment and then followed.

As I walked in I noted that there were only two cubicles and, whilst the fixtures and fittings were long past their best, it looked clean and there was a cloying smell of floral disinfectant

Only one cubicle was occupied and, summoning up courage, I knocked gently at the door and whispered.

"Franzi..."

I heard a hurried scuffling and then the door opened fractionally. Franziska looked out uncertainly but I gave her no time to react. I pushed my way in and locked the door behind me.

Her shock gave way to a pleased smile and then she took my face in her hands and kissed me. Her mouth was soft and eager and I caught the slight sweetness of her lipstick. For a second or two I surrendered to her but then I took charge.

Taking her unawares I slipped my hand inside her jacket and felt the fullness of her breast. Her bra was unyielding but the rigidity of her nipple was still apparent and I squeezed gently with my thumb and finger.

She groaned appreciatively and thrust her tongue deep into my mouth and I felt a flush of heat across my groin. It was imperative that I retained control but it was her turn to deliver a surprise.

In a single movement she turned me around and pushed me back so that I stumbled onto the toilet seat. With a ravenous look in her eyes she dropped to her knees in front of me and almost ripped my skirt in her eagerness to lift it out of the way.

This was not how I had envisaged things. My plan hinged on persuading her to go on alone with me somewhere, to which end I was prepared to demonstrate my willingness to please, but now the tables were turned.