No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne & syrorder)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Zeitgeist on 16-08-2009, 00:27:08</h2>
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				Title: <strong>No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zeitgeist</strong> on <strong>16-08-2009, 00:27:08</strong>
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				<span class="bbc_u"><strong>Players/Characters</strong></span><br>Zamdrist - Dmitry Andropov<br>Elayne - Jennifer Hill<br>syrorder - Svetlana<br><br><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Setting</strong></span><br>Moscow, Baltschug Kempinski (hotel)<br><br><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Notes</strong></span><br>Gazprom - Russian oil company<br>Dolgoprudnenskaya - Russian crime gang<br>Halliburton - American company<br>Baltschug Kempinski - hotel<br>Sheremetyev - Moscow airport<br><br><strong>Premise</strong> - An American businesswoman travels to Moscow to negotiate the final details of a multi-million dollar business deal with Gazprom, a Russian oil company. Instead she falls prey to the charms of her beautiful hostess Svetlana, and is blackmailed and coerced by a criminal gang that is the real power behind the company.<br><br><span class="bbc_u"><strong>No Love from Russia</strong></span><br><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/ca/Roman_abramovich_29571s.jpg)<br><br><span class="bbc_u"><strong>The Baltschug Kempinski</strong></span><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b6/20071005-hotel-baltschug-kempinski-m.jpg)<br><br>Life was good to Dmitry these days. It wasn't always that way. Dmitry was a Cold War warrior, several years now retired from the military. Dmitry spent most of his time fighting in covert operations with the Spetsnaz. All his life he had been subjected to violence and torture. Be it from a drunken father beating him over the head with an empty bottle of Vodka, or the rigorous special forces training, or being held captive for three years, beaten and tortured in an Afghani prison.<br><br>Dmitry's manner was calm and self-assured, slow to anger these days, perhaps age had soothed his demons some. Demons he had to be sure, he was just more exacting and in control of them, than in his youth. He was tall at 6'2" and muscular from his years of military training. His eyes were grey, sharp and business like. A smile rarely broke his face, even if he was quite content and pleased with himself these days.<br><br>Dmitry was a mid ranked lieutenant in a Russian mafia gang called Dolgoprudnenskaya. It was his job to make money for the front company, called Gazprom. He was not the face of the company, but pulled the strings under the table and kept a low profile. Dmitry liked it that way. Through profits made by embezzlement, prostitution and drugs Dmitry supplanted the otherwise legit Gazprom while making a tidy sum of money himself. He also had at his disposal a pool of young Russian women he pimped out as escorts, hostesses and prostitutes. Approaching fifty, he had no compunction sampling any of them himself, women half his age or more. The way Dmitry looked at it, he had earned it. Tucked away in some high rise slum in another part of Moscow lived his show wife and young son. Someday he'd bring young Petro into the mafia but that was years away from now.<br><br>He operated out of the Baltschug Kempinski, a five-star hotel that still possessed its Old World charm with Russian architecture, adornments and ambiance. The Dolgoprudnenskaya owned the hotel and he had th run of the place and the staff's cooperation as he saw fit. Dmitry's close assistant was Svetlana, a beautiful young Russian woman. Their relationship otherwise might have resembled an uncle and niece, a mentor and student, if it weren't for the fact he was fucking her. Dmitry left no question who was in charge, whether it was ravaging her, bent her over a desk in the middle of the day, assigning her business projects of importance or renting her out as an escort to business partners. He took and gave what and when he wanted it. He was not without affection for the woman by any means. She was smart, possessed with a common sense rare in young female Russians, and was quite good at seducing just about anyone she desired.<br><br>Dmitry and Svetlana had been for almost year now cultivating a huge business deal with an American company, Halliburton. The deal would entail a contract for oil pipe line parts for a ten year span. Halliburton was asking for way too much money, much more than Dmitry was willing to part with. The deal however was almost consummated and they were sending their best and brightest negotiator to Moscow to meet and finalize the contract.<br><br>The American woman would be arriving tomorrow afternoon. There were only a few details left to finish and all would be in place.<br><br>"Svetlana!" Called Dmitry, from his office.<br><br>Dmitry lounged is what he called his office, but more resembled a lounge than an office. Indeed he sat at his cherry oak desk in a tall backed leather chair. Also about the room were two couches, a divan and a bar stocked with all sorts of spirits and wines. The floor was carpeted in a deep rich scarlet and the walls adorned with moderately fine paintings. The room was bright during business hours but could be dimmed in the evening for a more comfortable feel.<br><br>"Svetlana!"<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>17-08-2009, 00:10:07</strong>
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				A stunning lack of choice was the overriding theme of Svetlana Baronova's life, beginning from turning to Dolgoprudnenskaya at a young age to support a largely impoverished family at the tail end of the Cold War.&nbsp; At the young age of ten, she assisted in the sale and safe transport of illegal drugs and drug money, though her capacity for carrying out the tasks assigned to her discretely and efficiently without ever being overly near to capture meant that her responsibilities grew rather swiftly in spite of her age.&nbsp; <br><br>By late adolesence, she'd begun to find more of her attentions pointed towards Gazprom instead of the extra-legal aspects of the organization, until her duties were entirely intertwined with the oil company's.<br><br>She did not, of course, entirely cease in breaking the law, but the nature of her crimes shifted; aside from assisting in the occasional white collar crime, once she was of the proper age, she did her part in facillitating difficult or lucrative deals by escort to the representatives of companies that Gazprom had dealings with.&nbsp; Whether it was to create blackmail by catching key members of those companies' staffs in compromising positions, or simply currying favor to make them more amicable to deals that benefitted her employers, Svetlana was willing and able to do that which was asked of her.<br><br>'What was asked of her' included, of course, seeing to the needs of Dmitry Andropov, her superior in Gazprom; she yielded readily to his demands in all things, both because he was above her in ranking and because those that weren't well-reasoned and well-intentioned were not unsavory or undesireable to her.&nbsp; To be used as she at times was by him was neutral at worst; certainly, it was little different from being with the men and women she was assigned to spend many of her nights with, save for the frequency and familiarity with which it occured.&nbsp; It was her job.&nbsp; It was one of the multiple ways in which she advanced her position and esteem in Gazprom.<br><br>It was rather fun in its way, too, and that most certainly helped.<br><br>Typically, when summoned via the sound of Dmitry's voice - whether carried through the air naturally or via the aid of an intercom - two shouts was all it took for her to be standing just inside of his doorway.&nbsp; Her space was near enough to his that any more of a delay meant a severe hold-up or greater proximity.<br><br>"Yes?" she gently questioned as she settled with her hands folded neatly before herself, far opposite his desk.&nbsp; She was, given that her duties included more than simply escorting key clients, dressed professionally in a black blazer and slacks, white dress shirt and black tie.&nbsp; Her hair - darkly red to the point of approaching black - was as carefully styled as it ever was to maintain a distinct appearance of femininity in spite of its short length, and the thinly framed glasses she wore over her eyes were pushed all the way up along the bridge of her nose to minimize slippage.&nbsp; The cut of her clothes, despite their professional nature was such that they left little to imagine so far as the shape of her figure, despite the lack of proper exposure; she was soft and generously curvy where she ought to be, flattering her rather petite frame.
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				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>17-08-2009, 04:08:14</strong>
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				Jennifer looked out at the airport tarmac, waiting impatiently as the airplane taxied off the landing strip and towards the debarking zone.&nbsp; After the long flight from Washington to Moscow she was eager to be off the plane.&nbsp; Fortunately, she had flown business class -- The flight coach must have been unbearable.<br><br>She stood up, adjusting her long blonde pony tail, then reached up for the overhead compartment and retrieved her carry on bag.&nbsp; Then she strolled down the carpet to the steps were the business class passengers were being disembarked.&nbsp; She climbed down the heavy metal steps and then strolled over towards the doors into the airport proper.<br><br>Russian customs stopped her to check her passport and Visa, then made her open her carry on bag, showing that she hadn't brought anything illegal into the country.&nbsp; After reaching the all clear, Jennifer made her way over to the plastic seats of the airport, taking a seat with a sigh, waiting for her suitcase to clear customs.<br><br>She didn't have to wait long.&nbsp; After about 20 minutes her case came off the conveyor belt and she went over to claim it, then headed out of the passenger area.&nbsp; She was eager to get to the hotel and get a&nbsp; good night's sleep and a chance to clean up.&nbsp; She was never able to doze off on a plane.<br><br>A driver was waiting for her, holding up a sign "Jennifer Hill", written in both English and Cyrillic script.&nbsp; She walked over and waved to the man, holding up her passport.&nbsp; He barely glanced at it, taking her suitcase and waving her out to a small town car that was waiting.&nbsp; He opened the back door for her, then moved around to put her suitcase in the trunk.&nbsp; Jennifer climbed into the car, pulling the door closed and soon they were headed off to the hotel. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zeitgeist</strong> on <strong>18-08-2009, 05:43:11</strong>
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				While Dmitry remained seated at his desk, he motioned to Svetlana to come around the desk. Wordlessly she complied, and as Dmitry talked his hand wandered over her ass. Her ass, which even in a pair of businesslike slacks was shapely and round like firm apples. Short of a sack, there was little chance hiding her nubile figure.<br><br>"As we've discussed, the American, Jennifer Hill will be arriving soon. I want you to meet her at the front desk and ensure she is settled into her room. Be sweet, be charming, but upmost be professional. Take note of what she has with her.<br><br>Dmitry's hand slowly moved over Svetlana's ass as he continued with his instructions. The tips of his fingers found her panty line and traced the seam down the curve of her buttock.<br><br>"Invite her to dine with you that evening, after she has had some rest. Take her to the hotel resturaunt. Be a good hostess, I'm sure you can handle that. If you can get her to drink a couple Vodkas all the better."<br><br>His hand lingered between Svetlana's thighs, just under the tight curve of her ass cheek. It pleased Dmitry to feel the her warmth welling up, and he teased her with a small squeeze of her inner thigh with his thick strong hand. <br><br>"What I'm saying Svetlana is, I want you to get her drunk and get her into bed. My sources tell me she has a weakness for women as well as men, so it shouldn't be a stretch. If you think it isn't going to happen, put this in her drink."<br><br>Dmitry pulled out an envelope, in it which was a small light blue tablet.<br><br>"Ecstasy. It will dissolve in her drink and as you well know, will leave her quite compliant to your advances. Only use this if you think its necessary."<br><br>Dmitry let his hand fall from Svetlana and his expression became more serious and pointed.<br><br>"I'll be in the next room, recording you and this woman. We will use this video to blackmail her and get the best deal out of her and Halliburton as we can. Make it good!"<br><br>On his desk was a file which he flipped open. There, upon a glossy eight and a half by eleven photo was Jennifer Hill, attractive and blond with a long pony tail, presumably a company marketing photo.<br><br>"Oh and make <em>sure</em> before you leave her hotel room, you get her passport and PDA. I'll make sure she cannot access the wi-fi using her laptop."<br><br>"There will be a meeting the following morning at 10:30 AM, make sure you escort her to it. You'll be joining us for the meeting also."<br><br>"Run along now, I'm sure you have preparations," Dmitry said, emphasizing his words with a firm smack of her bottom.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>18-08-2009, 18:45:36</strong>
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				A pad and pen were drawn from Svetlana's pockets, and as his hands roamed her fingers raced to take down the information being imparted to her.&nbsp; The lack of palpable response to his touch, her collected demeanor and focus on note-taking were all a testament to her professionalism more than a a sign of disinterest; to maintain control under pressure, sexual or otherwise was rather an important quality for a woman in her position, one that an alarming number of her fellows wrangled with unsuccessfully.<br><br>The drug-laden envelope is pocketed and the glossy photograph looked over carefully; the latter prompted a thin and almost predatory smile as Jennifer's features were carefully studied, and when it was all done - complete with a smack on the bottom for good measure - she simply nodded.&nbsp; Instead of leaving, however, she leaned forward slightly to lay her hand gently in Dmitry's lap and trace the tips of her fingers along the outline of his growing bulge.<br><br>"I will be here at 9:30, so that we may review the footage before the meeting," she said simply in soft and smoky tones, and with that she stood and turned crisply to exit his office.&nbsp; "I will wander the hotel's lobby until I have seen her; I would prefer not to approach her as an official member of the staff."
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				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>18-08-2009, 20:08:15</strong>
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				The town car pulled up to the old world hotel, a towering building of white facade and marble steps.<br><br>Jennifer climbed out of the car and a valet appeared to open the trunk and take out her suitcase, carrying it inside for her.&nbsp; Jennifer followed him, brushing a few strands of hair back from her oval face as she walked up to the reception desk.<br><br>"Hello," she greeted the receptionist, a pretty dark haired Russian girl.&nbsp; She pulled out her pass port and Visa, handing them over for inspection.&nbsp; "My name is Jennifer Hill, I have a reservation."<br><br>The girl took the Visa, typing something in her computer, then returned to hand over a key.<br><br>Once she had her key, Jennifer walked over towards the elevator, the porter carrying her suitcase.&nbsp; She punched the button to summon the elevator car and then sighed.&nbsp; She was quite tired from the long flight.&nbsp; She couldn`t wait to shower, take a nap and then change.
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				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zeitgeist</strong> on <strong>19-08-2009, 03:07:30</strong>
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				A rare smile, albeit a slight one, broke over Dmitry's face when Svetlana caressed hardened groin lightly with her fingertips. The feel of her enameled nails grazing over the buldge of his pants was tantalizing enough to send a small shiver through Dmitry.<br><br>Before she left his office, he had one final instruction for his favored assistant.<br><br>"Come to me after you're finished with the American, and you can finish what you just started." Dmitry said, eluding to her teasing touch.<br><br>Soon after Svetlana's departure a red light lit up on his desk phone and Dmitry picked it up.<br><br>"Ms. Hill has arrived and checked in sir," said the voice on the other end.<br><br>"Good" Replied Dmitry, hanging up the phone with no more elaboration.<br><br>On his desk still lie the glossy photo of Ms. Hill. Dmitry sat there looking into the eyes of the woman, examining the curve of her face, the lay and shade of her hair. He rolled over in his mind's eye the deliciously rude and obscene things he would <em>do</em> to her, and the things he would make her <em>do.</em><br><br>He and Svetlana would indeed enjoy breaking this woman's will. Before it was all said and done she'd be little more than a lost little girl, malleable and docile.<br><br>He would both secure a significantly better contract deal for Gazprom, and have his way with this blond piece of American ass. It was win, win the way Dmitry saw it.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>19-08-2009, 14:11:56</strong>
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				No words were given in response to Dmitry's final order, because none were needed; Svetlana's compliance was simply understood, and there were more pressing matters to tend to besides.&nbsp; The entire trip from the hotel's sub-basements to its upper levels was spent with her ear pressed to her cell phone.<br><br>One call was placed to the restaurant to make reservations and arrange ahead of time for a bottle of high quality vodka to be prepared for the meal to come, while another arranged for several pliable hotel staffers to keep her abreast of Ms. Hill's whereabouts, should she be spotted; once that was attended to, she smoothed her hands down the front of her blazer and stepped free from the last of the stairs she'd ascended to reach the hotel proper.<br><br>Contrary to the outline of her plan in Dmitry's office, she had no real intention of literally wandering the lobby and praying; aside from the spies scattered about the hotel, keeping their eyes peeled for Jennifer, Svetlana herself was set upon making a careful circuit through the facillities, sticking to the amenities she thought it likely a freshly arrived traveler might avail herself of.&nbsp; Thus, she chatted idly with a masseuse in the spa area, she sipped from a coffee purchased from a premium purveyor, she window-shopped, and generally she did her best not to stand out as she kept her eyes peeled for her American target.
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				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>19-08-2009, 19:36:56</strong>
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				The bellhop led her to her room and opened the door, carrying the suitcase inside.&nbsp; Jennifer followed him inside, reaching into her carry on bag and fumbling about for her small leather wallet.&nbsp; She pulled out a twenty dollar bill, US currency, then offered it to the bellhop as a tip.<br><br>He smiled and left, and Jennifer closed the door behind him, pulling the chain across and locking it.&nbsp; Then she went to explore her hotel room a little.&nbsp; It was a pleasant room, nicely sized and well furnished.<br><br>Jennifer pulled off her shoes and socks, then began to undress.&nbsp; She stripped off her top and her jeans, then undid her bra and shimmied out of her panties.&nbsp; Naked, she strolled into the bathroom.&nbsp; She turned on the tap semi hot water and began filling the tub.&nbsp; Once it was full, she climbed in and sank down, letting the water lap around her full breasts and underneath her chin.<br><br>With a contented sigh, she closed her eyes, letting herself soak for a few long moments.&nbsp; The heat of the water was delightful after the long flight.&nbsp; After a few minutes, she took one of the small bars on perfumed soap the hotel provided and began to lather up her arms and long legs.&nbsp; She soaped her hips and chest and long neck, then picked up the small bottle of shampoo and began working it in to her long blonde hair.<br><br>She rinsed herself off and then pulled the plug, rising from the tub and seizing a white, fluffy towel with the hotel's monogram.&nbsp; She dried herself off, then wrapped the towel around her body, tying it over her breasts.&nbsp; Jennifer picked up her brush and began to brush out her hair, leaving it loose.<br><br>Once she felt cleaned up, she hung the towel back up and sauntered back into the bedroom, collapsing on the bed for a nap.&nbsp; She never could sleep well on planes and after the lengthy flight, she was feeling quite jet lagged.&nbsp; <br><br>There'd be plenty of time to explore the hotel when she woke up.&nbsp; Maybe get a massage and check out the local restaurants.
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				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zeitgeist</strong> on <strong>20-08-2009, 04:30:57</strong>
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				The work of the Dolgoprudnenskaya was often a mix of both legitimate and not so legitimate dealings. And such there was work yet to complete in regards to the final offer that made up the contract between Gazprom and Halliburton. Dmitry was never a desk jockey, he had staff and assistants for such work. Nevertheless there was some document review and cross-references to be made to ensure everything had been completed to his satisfaction. The offer Halliburton and Ms. Hill had made him was unacceptable and Dmitry had his staff write up a new proposal that suited their needs better and was, truth be told a scandalous bargain.<br><br>There would be no way, under normal circumstances would his proposal be accepted. Indeed, the disparity in numbers were so far apart, they likely would have cut off negotiations completely. The proposal however had yet to be submitted and seen only by himself and a handful of Gazprom personnel. Ms. Hill would be presented the proposal at tomorrow's meeting, but only after it was made clear to her the precarious position she was in and that this offer was the only offer Gazprom would accept. Indeed it wasn't truly even an offer in the strictest sense. <br><br>Ms. Hill would eventually sign on, of that Dmitry did not doubt. She would be properly persuaded however, a 'chore' Dmitry looked forward to diving into head first.<br><br>The room Ms. Hill was assigned was previously alloted for this project, as was the room next door to hers. The woman's room was generously bugged and quality surveillance cameras were placed about discreetly. From the adjoining suite, Dmitry would be able to view all the goings on with all of the appropriate recording gear needed to capture the moment. Whether the room was lit or dark the video quality would be top notch. Whether the two love birds were on the bed, the divan or in the bathroom, all angles were covered.<br><br>The nature of this project was not coincidence as Dmitry specialized later in his special ops career in surveillance, and so he oversaw every detail. With Svetlana on detail, Dmitry expected a good show.<br><br>Dmitry rose from his desk and checked his Rolex for the time. It would be several hours before Svetlana would take the American to dinner, and so there was some time left to relax. His office sat in the sub-basement of the hotel, a place only a handful of even hotel employees were even aware of and from where Dmitry operated. He left his office and took a freight elevator up to the main hotel floors.<br><br>In a private room his personal masseuse awaited his arrival.<br><br>"Afternoon Sonya," greeted Dmitry. Sonya, a svelte and petite beauty with glossy black curls down her shoulders greeted him back. Dmitry knew not her age but would have guessed she was in her mid-twenties. A man less accustomed to having beautiful women around at his disposal might have gawked at Sonya, but Dmitry was no such typical man. Sonya wore only a diminutive pair of black bikini-cut panties tied with a thin string on the left and right sides of her hips. She couldn't have been larger than a B-cup size, with each breast topped with a small pink nipple.<br><br>Sonya stood by at the ready as Dmitry undressed, taking each article of clothing he shed from him and carefully hung up his suit coat, shirt and pants and carefully laid out his under clothes. Dmitry cut no less an impressive pose nude than he did in an Italian suit. Hardened muscles scared liberally with various punishments over the decades bore out his rough past. His chest hair reflected the hair on his head and its color, shifting to gray, bespoke of his age and experience.<br><br>Though he'd taken from Sonya as much as any of his close assistants, his visit today was purely for a relaxing massage, of which she equally excelled at, as she was at other relaxing activities.<br><br>Time enough for fucking later, thought Dmitry. He rather relished getting his hands on Svetlana so soon after her encounter with Ms Hill. He even imagined, or rather allowed himself to day dream he might even smell the woman on Svetlana.<br><br>So it was Dmitry laid down on the masseuse table as Sonya dimmed the lights low and saw to her oils, incense and lotions. Dmitry closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander aimlessly and banished any thought from his head. Time to relax and be sharp when it counted most.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>21-08-2009, 15:53:16</strong>
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				Jennifer woke to a small tap on the door.&nbsp; She climbed out of bed, grabbing a fluffy robe and pulling it on, belting it.&nbsp; After a few hours of sleep, she felt much better.&nbsp; <br><br>She went to the door and opened it to admit the hotel's maid.&nbsp; While the maid set to straightening up the room, Jennifer grabbed some clothes from her suit case, getting dressed in black slacks and a fitted t-shirt.&nbsp; She pulled on her jacket and slipped into a pair of flat black shoes, then strolled out of her room to go explore Moscow a bit.<br><br>The valet hailed her a cab and Jennifer was whisked away to the historic Red Square.&nbsp; She paid the driver and then stepped out of the cab, looking out at the Kremlin, just across the square.&nbsp; Jennifer was surprised by how pleasant the temperature was.&nbsp; She had always through Russia would be cold and frozen, but it was actually quite nice out.<br><br>After a few moments, Jennifer walked into the Kitai-Gorod, the merchant's quarter to do some shopping.&nbsp; She investigated some of the clothing boutiques, displaying Russian designers that she'd never heard of in the US.&nbsp; Jennifer made a few small purchases, then signalled for a cab, heading back to the hotel.<br><br>She handed her bags to the bellhop, slipping him a small tip and asking him to take them up to her room.&nbsp; Then Jennifer went to the appointment she'd made for a massage.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>22-08-2009, 01:21:32</strong>
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				'She is on her way'<br><br>Svetlana drew her cellphone from within her blazer thanks to its sending soft vibrations through her ribcage, and after reading those words off of its screen - and identifying the sender as one of the hotel's masseuses - she faintly smiled to herself.&nbsp; <br><br>One last look was given to the lovely pastoral portrait drawn from its starving, local artist's experiences in Russian farm life, and then she tossed her long empty cup of coffee into a trash bin and strolled from the hotel's small art galleria.<br><br>The escort-slash-businesswoman's naturally cold and neutral demeanor was by no means immutable, of course, comfortable though it may be.&nbsp; All the way to the spa, she dutifully shed that frigid exterior so as to leave a warm, friendly and personable woman behind for Jennifer Hall to meet and perhaps acquaint herself with.<br><br>She, of course, did not have an appointment, but that did not mean that she couldn't be there; thus, shortly after Jennifer's arrival, Svetlana rises from her seat in the massage area's waiting room and approaches the American with a warm smile and an outstretched hand.<br><br>"Please," she lightly implores as she draws to a stop beforE Jennifer, "forgive my tardiness.&nbsp; I was to have met you at the airport, to greet and acclimate you on behalf of Gazprom, but I fear that I was given the wrong arrival time.&nbsp; I am Svetlana; we are lucky to have shared this thought, da?" 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>22-08-2009, 01:54:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jennifer walked into the spa area of the hotel and was surprised when a woman with dark red hair stood to greet her.&nbsp; She vaguely recognized the other woman as being a Gazprom representative from the business portfolio she'd studied, but that was about all she knew.<br><br>"Hello," Jennifer said in a small greeting, checking her slightly tousled blonde hair and then offering her hand to the other woman.&nbsp; "I'm Jennifer Hill," she said by way of introduction.<br><br>Jennifer shrugged slightly, a bit confused.&nbsp; "Oh, no worries," she reassured.&nbsp; "The driver who met me at the airport was fine.&nbsp; I love the room, the view is quite majestic."&nbsp; She smiled slightly.<br><br>"Um, yes," she said, then smiled winsomely.&nbsp; "After the flight, I'm pretty tightened up, so I thought a massage might be nice."<br><br>At that moment, the two massage attendants arrived, a taller brunette with her hair piled on top of her head and a pixie faced blonde woman with hair short, barely past her ears.<br><br>"This way," the brunette said in accented English, motioning for Jennifer (and Svetlana) to follow her to the preparation room.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>23-08-2009, 00:54:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Svetlana's hand lingered for just a moment after shaking Jennifer's gently; on this day as on every other, the Russian's skin was incredibly soft to the touch, owing to the early morning hours spent dedicated to carefully maintaining her outward appearance.<br><br>"A pleasure, Ms. Hill."&nbsp; The business escort's hands folded loosely over her front as she offered what sympathy she could with her gaze and smile alone.&nbsp; Before she could offer any actual thoughts along those lines, the attendants were there; the expression, she hoped, would suffice.<br><br>"Shall we?" she inquired of Jennifer with a light touch upon her upper arm and a questioning glance before turning to follow behind the brunette.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>23-08-2009, 03:00:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Yes, let's," Jennifer replied following the two massage attendants to the preparation room.<br><br>There were two tall screens prepared for them to get undressed behind and a small shower stall hidden behind a small blue curtain.<br><br>Jennifer moved behind her screen, pulling off her fitted t shirt and hanging it over the top of the screen.&nbsp; She unclasped her bra, setting it down and then unbuttoned her jeans, shimmying out of them.&nbsp; She pulled off her panties, then neatly folded them, resting them all on a small table behind the privacy screen.<br><br>She stepped into the shower stall first, turning on the water.&nbsp; It was surprisingly hot and there was a tremendous amount of steam as she washed herself down.&nbsp; Once she was done, Jennifer reached out from behind the curtain to grab a fluffy white towel, wrapping it around herself.&nbsp; <br><br>After she was clean, the brunette attendant returned, motioning for Jennifer to follow her to a padded leather massage table.&nbsp; Jennifer climbed up on top of it, laying down, her arms alongside of her, listening to the light jazz music being played in the massage room.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>23-08-2009, 11:40:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Svetlana waited patiently for her turn at the shower stall, even going so far as to forestall her own changing until Ms. Hill was finished; there would, after all, be plenty of time to fully enjoy the other's form later, should things go to plan, and introducing an element of supreme awkwardness into the equation would do nothing to further things.<br><br>She was brisk, when her time came, and that was a matter of instinct; from time to time, if she really tried, really pushed herself to, she could enjoy long, lengthy hot showers as a luxury, but normally, they were simply a waste of time.&nbsp; Hot water was a precious commodity for much of her life, and it was ingrained in her to forever after treat it as such.<br><br>Given that and the perfunctory nature of the pre-massage shower to begin with, the Russian escort was walking behind the blonde to her own massage table shortly after Jennifer had settled herself in.&nbsp; A light, friendly wave and smile were given in passing to the American before she, too, was laying face down not so far away to enjoy her own massage.<br><br>"You must," she softly said once she'd arranged herself comfortably atop the imported leather surface, "allow me to recant my tardiness; I could show you the hotel, or perhaps treat you to supper once this has finished?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>23-08-2009, 21:20:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The brunette attendant walked over, taking Jennifer's left arm and lifting it, shaking it slightly, then doing the same to her right arm, stretching her shoulders out.&nbsp; Then the Russian girl repeated the process on each of Jennifer's long legs, adjusting her position till she was stretched out on the table.<br><br>Once Jennifer was laying where the attendant wanted her, the masseuse lifted a small bottle from a heating stand on the table nearby.&nbsp; She turned it over, pouring oil directly onto Jennifer's spine.&nbsp; Jennifer shivered slightly at the slick, greasy sensation of the hot oil pouring over her bare back.<br><br>With a light sheen of oil coating Jennifer's back, the brunette attendant began to rub the American woman's shoulders, smoothing out the pools of oil, rubbing them into a shiny coating of Jennifer's slender curves.&nbsp; The woman massaged Jennifer's shoulders and shoulder blades, kneaded the small of her back, rubbed Jennifer's sides.<br><br>Jennifer groaned blissfully.&nbsp; The other woman's touch was just forceful enough to literally push the tension out of Jennifer's muscles, but still smooth and distinctly feminine.&nbsp; &nbsp;Jennifer felt knots releasing in her back, muscles she didn't even realize were stiff untensing.<br><br>"What?"&nbsp; Jennifer muttered almost sleepily as the attendant worked over her back.&nbsp; "Oh, yes, that sounds nice," she replied to Svetlana.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>24-08-2009, 02:54:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Svetlana had had her share of hours spent beneath the hands of Baltschug Kempinski's staff of massage technicians, and so once preliminary steps towards loosening her muscles were taken, a bottle of oil reserved specifically for Ms. Baranova's usage was removed from its heater and spread liberally across her back.<br><br>"You... will forgive me the liberty of having made reservations... I trust?" Svetlana wonders aloud.&nbsp; Her eyes are half-lidded and her words are a touch slower than they were moments ago; her friendly, outgoing demeanor may be something of a falsehood, but she could hardly deny how very pleasant her attendant's careful touch really was.<br><br>"I... thought it wise to seek amends... pre-emptively.&nbsp; Just in case."<br><br>Alert as she was, she was at no risk of falling asleep under the blonde masseuse's tenderly firm touch, but the opportunity to relax just a little before a night of careful, tense work was welcomed as all signs of stress were dutifully pushed from her well-kept musculature.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>24-08-2009, 07:17:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jennifer lifted her head slightly, confused by the other woman's constant and bizarre apologies.&nbsp; So far the other woman had apologized three times, which made no sense to Jennifer, seeing as how a driver had met her at the airport and her reservations at the hotel had been made and claimed without any incident.<br><br>"So, what do you do at Gazprom?" Jennifer asked curiously, wondering why Gazprom, the company she was here to negotiate with had sent a woman to share a massage with her and take her to dinner.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>24-08-2009, 10:51:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I deal in accounting," Svetlana said crisply as her shoulders - by then relieved of much of the tension that came naturally with handling a situation so delicate as the one revolving around Halliburton - rolled backwards slightly.&nbsp; It served both to relax her and to give her masseuse a nonverbal cue to cease her ministrations, at least for a time.<br><br>"In relations, as well; I would suppose that you could I say I wear several of Gazprom's hats.&nbsp; And you, Ms. Hill?&nbsp; I know some of what it is that you do, by virtue of your being here, of course, but the workings of American business fascinate me, all the same."<br><br>Svetlana's head turned just slightly atop the table once that was said, so that her smile was visible should Jennifer find it within herself to do much moving at all in the course of having her massage.<br><br>"And I must confess," she adds humbly, "that I am pleased to meet with another woman who manages to balance what must be considerable responsibility with her personal upkeep; I... wonder, at times, how many truly care about such things."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>26-08-2009, 19:34:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jennifer found that answer strange.&nbsp; Most companies would never let an accountant meet someone from another company, both because an accountant would be unprepared for it and because an accountant might accidentally leak internal numbers that could be very harmful.&nbsp; And one person working in two different departments for a company Gazprom's size seemed inefficient.<br><br>She supposed it had something to do with the Russian business model, which tended to be less Byzantine than the way American business conducted themselves.<br><br>Jennifer also found the comment on her personal upkeep bizarre.&nbsp; She supposed it must be the language barrier.&nbsp; The other woman sounded like she intended to be flattering, even though the wording was a bit off.<br><br>The American woman decided to simply relax and enjoy her massage, closing her blue eyes and allowing the brunette massage attendant to knead the muscles of her back.&nbsp; After a few moments, Jennifer felt the brunette shift downwards to begin rubbing Jennifer's shapely thighs and the backs of her kness.&nbsp; Jennifer stifled a small giggle as the other woman's finger tips stroked the sensitive skin of the bend of her leg.<br><br>Finally, the attendant worked down, taking Jennifer's foot and beginning to rub the arch of the businesswoman's foot with the palm of her hand, stroking and rubbing.&nbsp; Jennifer groaned softly, feeling thorough enjoyment as the attendant oiled and rubbed her feet to an almost blissful state.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>30-08-2009, 00:32:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There were no stifled giggles from Svetlana in the course of the massage; mask or no, such unconscious affectations were too far removed from who she was, and the need to wear them consciously simply didn't exist.&nbsp; She, as well, strayed from anything more than the barest of idle small talk for the rest of the time, though that was due mainly to a genuine appreciation for the blonde masseuse's skilled hands and knowing that there was more than enough time for conversation over dinner.<br><br>Once the session was over, once they'd dressed and cleaned up as need be - with Svetlana being certain to spend enough time before a mirror as necessary to ensure that not a hair was out of place - the Russian sought her would-be American dining companion out.<br><br>"The Restaurant Baltschug awaits, Ms. Hill," she crisply said once the two were together again, further taking the initiative of leading the way towards it in leisurely fashion.&nbsp; "Caviar, wine, the finest selections of meat and fish... luxury atop luxury," she mused idly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>31-08-2009, 23:46:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The brunette attendant stroked and oiled Jennifer until she was completely relaxed.&nbsp; Afterwards, Jennifer rose from the massage table, wrapping her towel around herself as she headed back out to the dressing screen, pulling her clothing back on.<br><br>Once she was dressed, Jennifer joined Svetlana and headed out towards the hotel restaurant.&nbsp; "As long as Gazprom's paying," Jennifer said with a small smile.&nbsp; "My expense account isn't really designed for luxuries."<br><br>Heading into the restaurant, Jennifer inquired, "So, does Gazprom provide caviar and wine for all the foreign negotiators?&nbsp; Or am I special?"<br><br>The head waiter nodded to the them upon entering, escorting the two women to a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant.&nbsp; Jennifer took a seat, smoothing her top over her stomach and reclining in her chair.&nbsp; "How long have you been a negotiator for Gazprom?" she asked Svetlana.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>01-09-2009, 18:25:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Worry not, Ms. Hill," Svetlana said after a brief and bright chuckle, "Gazprom would not expect such a thing of you."<br><br>The restaurant was an odd mix of upscale elegance and homestyle coziness; its edges were lined with squared tables while its central space was filled with circular ones, both covered by simple white tablecloths and fine, painstakingly prepped and polished silverwear and china.&nbsp; Each squared table was placed beside a window that provided a view of the hotel grounds and Moscow beyond them.<br><br>"Not every negotiator from abroad is tied to something so vital as the upcoming deal between our two companies," she went on to note with a smile as she and Jennifer were dutifully led to their quiet table; the window just adjacent offered a tranquil view of the river that ran alongside the hotel.<br><br>"Seven years," she offered in reply to Jennifer's final question as she joined the American in sitting.&nbsp; Not long afterwards, a server came by just long enough to fill both of their glasses with dark red wine before slipping away.&nbsp; "And you, Ms. Hill?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>06-09-2009, 06:41:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Three years," Jennifer replied absently.&nbsp; She picked up her glass of water and sipped it, then set the glass back down on the table.&nbsp; A wrinkle in the table cloth caught her eye for a moment, and she smoothed it out.<br><br>After a few moments, the waiter came over to their table to set down several plates of appetizers before them.&nbsp; Jennifer smiled at the young man and then pulled the napkin off her plate, spreading it over her lap.&nbsp; She used the tongs to seize some of the salad, setting it on her plate, then picked up one of the pickled vegetables, nibbling it.&nbsp; "I love Russian cuisine," she told her dining companion as she finished the vegetable.<br><br>Jennifer poked at her salad with her fork for a minute.&nbsp; The waiter returned, setting a plate of pelmeni before Jennifer and setting Svetlana's order before her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Olivia Nope</strong> on <strong>07-09-2009, 01:04:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"And yet, they have sent you here, for an assignment of this magnitude?&nbsp; I am impressed, Ms. Hill," Svetlana says with a smile.&nbsp; Shortly afterwards, thanks to wine arriving just after the appetizer, she's able to hold a glass filled with fine red wine up in something of a toast to the compliment regarding her nation's cuisine.&nbsp; "We have had much time hiding from the cold, surviving on what we could draw from a harsh land; it has done much to refine our tastes."<br><br>Following that, she gives most of her attention to the little tasting platter of caviar that arrived with the other appetizers, using one of the several blinis accompanying it to scoop a small portion of the little black jewel-like eggs for easier consumption.<br><br>It was not long before Jennifer's pelmeni and Svetlana's lamb arrived, and with the utmost of care the redhead set about cutting her meat into small portions before beginning to eat it.&nbsp; All the while, her attention was mindfully split between the food and her companion for the evening, careful to be certain that just the right balance between the two was achieved.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: No Love from Russia (Zamdrist, Elayne &amp; syrorder)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elayne</strong> on <strong>18-09-2009, 06:57:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jennifer shrugged her slender shoulders, accepting Svetlana's compliment without comment.&nbsp; <br><br>Soon, their meal arrived.&nbsp; Jennifer picked at her pelmenis, enjoying the flavor.&nbsp; The hotel featured really quite excellent chefs and every course was perfection.<br><br>She chatted back and forth with Svetlana idly over dinner, finishing her plate of pelmeni then ordering a cup of coffee from the waiter to go with dessert.&nbsp; The waiter brought over the coffee and Jennifer picked up a packet of sugar, shaking it out briefly then tearing the paper tab, pouring it into the black coffee.&nbsp; She picked up the spoon and stirred, then sipped her drink.<br><br>A few minutes later, the waiter brought over their cheque.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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