<strong><span class="bbc_u">Characters/Players</span></strong><br/>Rebecca Downs - Zamdrist<br/>Varinka Mikhailicheva - Dashenka<br/>Viktor Petrov - Cutter<br/><br/><strong>Premise:</strong>American businesswoman is coerced into non-consensual sex and prostitution by corrupt Russian business partners.<br/><strong>Orientation: </strong>Lesbian, Bisexual<br/><strong>Tone/Flavor:</strong>Erotic, some bondage, orgasm denial, etc.<br/><strong>Setting:</strong>Moscow, hotel, other<br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">No Love From Russia</span></strong><br/>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7f/Alba-pants.jpg)<br/><br/>Rebecca Downs laid her laptop bag and carry-on onto the conveyor belt that rolled through the airport security screener. The line moved interminably slow. Why she was in a hurry Rebecca did not know. The flight to Moscow would take about nine hours and she did not relish the long flight. Still, it was Moscow, Russia, a place she had never been before and she was well traveled. The man in front of her stepped through the security check and the alarm went off immediately. Rebecca waited as the man emptied his pockets in a basket and tried again. He looked back at Rebecca and rather guilelessly undressed her with his eyes.<br/><br/>She wore a typically standard blue pants-suit and jacket with a yellow button down blouse and navy pumps. Pinned to the lapel of her jacket was a gold fashioned rose, a 'Yellow Rose of Texas'. The business like raiment though did little to dampen her attractive looks. Golden locks of hair tumbled down her shoulders, her blue eyes were soft and pretty, her red lips inviting. She was neither very tall or particularly short, nor was she large busted or model thin. Her angelic countenance and slim athletic frame however drew more looks than she was sometimes comfortable with. She looked every bit the blond haired American woman that men spent their lifetime pursuing. At thirty-two years of age she had risen to a position as a lawyer, specializing in finance and business deals. She held a dual degree in law and business from Texas Southern University. She was a Texan girl down to her toes, growing up in Huston and now for two years working for the Houston based company Halliburton. In short, she was sharp as a whip and anyone mistaking her pretty blond looks for a lack of any savvy quickly found out different. She was not however above using her femininity and looks to ease through a business deal. The bat of an eyelash or some tasteful cleavage had more than once served her well dealing with was largely a male dominated line of work. The man ahead of her moved through the security check and Rebecca did also, without incident.<br/><br/>"Boarding Flight 1590 for Moscow Gate F. Boarding Flight 1590 for Moscow Gate F," the passionless overhead voice called out.<br/><br/>This wasn't Rebecca's first flight in the past twenty-four hours. She had flown out of Houston to JFK the day before and stayed over at a nearby hotel. Presuming no delays were in her future she would arrive by noon Moscow time. She would have time to catch up on some sleep before she met her counterpart for dinner, the first business meeting would come the following morning. Rebecca was brokering the final deal on a contract partnership with Gazprom, a Russian gas company. It was the largest and most affluent in the Russian Federation and the deal was valued up to 100 million American dollars. Halliburton was selling Gazprom a line of valves and piping the company would need to expand over the next ten years. The deal was not without its controversies, relations with Russian and its president Putin had been chilly. The business transaction was even debated in the U.S. Congress but ultimately given the go ahead. It seemed as though the Cold War had lately creeped back with a chill. Nevertheless private businesses were typically ahead of the politics of the day and the two countries still did a brisk amount of trade and business.<br/><br/>Rebecca boarded her flight and was seated in the first class section, the leg and elbow room thankfully generous. With her carry-on and laptop tucked away she sat comfortably with a book and seat belted in. She barely listened to the flight attendants as they droned on as they always did about the various things flight attendants do, the exits, the seat belts, the oxygen masks, and so on. Rebecca did find a pamphlet tucked into a side pocket that covered basic Russian greetings and phrases. Silently she tried to form the words in her head. Some were easy but more were quite difficult and very foreign to her. Rebecca was bilingual but Spanish would do her less good than English on this particular adventure.<br/><br/>Soon the plane was off the ground, and thankfully the trip at last was coming to a head. Nine hours laid ahead of Rebecca before the arrival to Moscow. After she tired of her book, having made it half way through the trashy romance novel, she set it aside and pondered what lie ahead of her. She knew her counterpart only by name and face, the two had only exchanged a handful of e-mails prior to this trip. The minutia of the deal, the vales and piping were not her specialty. She was to finalize the financial and legal end of the contract. She had very little wiggle room when it came to negotiating the exact monetary terms, the deal had largely been hammered out already. If needed she could go down but only a nominal amount. There were of course the contracts to go over and sign as well as the initial logistics involved in getting Gazprom their first shipment of much needed parts.<br/><br/>The flight attendants came around with meals and drinks. Keeping in the spirit of the trip she ordered a vodka and cranberry. Not long after she was covered up with a thin blanket and sleeping. The flight was tedious and with little noteworthy account. A good four hours into the flight the first lights of Europe began to twinkle out from under the plane below the clouds. The rest of the flight was spent finishing her book, more sleep, meals and one additional vodka cranberry.<br/><br/><em>Ding.</em><br/><br/>"Arriving at Sheremetyev airport, in 10 minutes," the pilot announced.<br/><br/>At last! Rebecca sighed. At last in Moscow. She was excited, truth be told. She loved to travel and loved her work, it was the best of both worlds. She had every plan to knock the Russian's socks off with her professionalism, knowledge and savoir faire.<br/><br/><em>They wont know what hit them.</em>She mused to herself.<br/><br/>The taxing and docking of the plane seemed to take forever. She was however one of the first passengers to exit the plan and into the airport terminal. A hotel attendant was to meet her and take her to the hotel, the Baltschug Kempinski. It was a historic hotel, dating back even prior to the 1900's and while modernized apparently still held an old world charm, she was very excited to see it, and her room. A young man got her attention, he was wearing a doorman's outfit with brimless round flat topped hat, he could be no one other than the hotel attendant she sought.<br/><br/>In broken English he said, "Welcome to Moscow Ms. Downs. Follow me if you would please, your luggage has been seen to already," she followed the attendant through the maze of the airport. The sounds and sites were quite foreign to her. Nearly everything was written in Russian and she could make none of it out, the chatter of the airport visitors completely unintelligible to her. They spoke so fast, she could never imagine picking up the language. She was led outside the airport to a car at curbside, a shiny black Mercedes. The driver was stowing away her luggage, she recognized the suite case and garment bag, and she got into the backseat of the car. The famed sites of Moscow rolled by her view, Red Square, the Kremlin and the gorgeous St. Basil's. Rebecca dug her Blackberry out of her purse and brought it online. Gratefully it did and it seemed she would have at least access to her e-mail until she could get her laptop set up. She sent her supervisor at Halliburton a quick e-mail ensuring she had arrived and was on her way to the hotel.<br/><br/>The Baltschug Kempinski came into view, it was indeed a beautiful old world building. The car pulled up curbside and the door was opened for her, her luggage taken away to her room she presumed, and Ms. Rebecca Downs, blond haired All-American girl, stepped foot into the hotel lobby.<br/><br/>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b6/20071005-hotel-baltschug-kempinski-m.jpg)