From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Russian Love (MF, exhib, prostitute) Date: 27 May 1996 18:32:39 GMT Russian Love The collapse of communism had brought about the rise of an Earthly Hell in Russia. Poverty was so extreme that even the wealthy often went hungry. Shortages of food and money, and other essentials were a weekly occurrence. Flourishing in the economic and social wasteland was the Russian underworld, the Mafia of the east. They'd strong armed their way into control of the few upstart corporations that actually made a profit in the country, they controlled the trafficking of drugs and arms and whatever the hell else had been up for grabs when the Union fell. They also made a fortune in international prostitution. The red light district hadn't even existed in Moscow ten years ago. Today it stretches on for miles. Few socialist laws, and powerful people willing to ignore them, allow for whores and strippers and whatever sort of female willing to use her body for cash to work without harassment from the authorities. Michael Volkov's brothel, dubbed "The Pussy Palace" on a neon sign in English below its Russian equivalent, was the preferred destination of foreigners and well to do natives. Backed by a powerful and anonymous individual who not only took thirty cents on the dollar from profits but also liked to have his cock sucked once in a while, the Palace has little trouble providing the public with what it wants. Its thirty-five ladies are imported, what could be considered slave labor. Most come from the Orient, with the remainder being European and American. The youngest of the whores is sixteen, the oldest twenty-four. Their prices are high to keep undesirables carrying every disease known to man out, and allow those with money to burn to fuck bare back. Jim Harris was supposed to meet an informant here that night. He liked to schedule his meetings here, not only because he enjoyed the entertainment and the girls, but because it was one of the few places where foreigners could meet without attracting attention.The informant was late. On stage, a pair of large chested Swedes were rubbing each other's tits as they danced about on stage nude. Before long they'd fallen back on the stage and begun to make a mocking performance of simulating male female sex. The predominantly English speaking crowd hollered a barrage of obscenities at the pair as they brought each other to orgasm, but they paid no attention. As they left the stage, Harris checked his watch. The bastard was a half hour late. He thought about forgetting this meeting. Intelligence wasn't nearly as important now that the cold war had ended. Besides, his door cover charge of $200 entitled him to two hours with the girl of his choice. Maybe he'd have his way with one of the Swedes, or both for an hour. Replacing them on stage was an Asian girl in a white cotton dress. She was a gorgeous girl, long black hair, well situated facial features, a perfect figure, and big tits. He'd love to tit fuck her, and maybe he would. She walked with a sensual grace to the front of the cat walk, where the crowd could note the rope links that bound her wrists. Just then, loud music began to blare and a naked woman, this one an African wench with equally long black hair and larger though less appealing tits, wearing black leather high heeled boots and carrying a leather whip in one hand, ran out to the front of the stage, and began to scream for the Asian to come over to her. Looking fearful, the Asian obeyed, and to the delight of the crowd was pushed to the floor upon arriving. The African cracked the whip across the pretty Asian's face, dragging it down across her chest before raising it back up. As the Asian began to try to stumble to her feet, another blow landed across her torso. As she dropped back down, the African reached down and grabbed at the collar of her dress, and with ones swift tug ripped it from her cringing body. The naked Asian was forced by her mistress for another five minutes to rub herself, and masturbate, and suck the Mistress's anatomy, and all other sorts of lewd acts. The show was the best Jim had ever witnessed. Everyone loved it. * * * Backstage Holly, the blond haired American girl, one of the clubs most popular dancers, waited for the dominatrix and her oriental slut to finish. Natasha and Heather waited with her, not preparing to perform, but hoping to hide from Michael and his perverse patrons. As their music stopped, Raven and Kim retreated back behind the curtain, and the crowd needed time to settle down before they watched Holly perform. Back stage, when not acting, Raven and Kim got along almost perfectly. Raven, the African dominatrix was only a bitch on stage, but oddly enough during the orgies that patrons sometimes ordered, Kim was just as submissive as on stage. The girls chatted for a while, as Holly finished her bit. At long last they were interrupted by Michael and his shouts to get out here now. The four girls made their way into the main parlor, where they found two westerners waiting with their employer. "Stand in line, ladies. These men want to inspect the merchandise." The girls lined up shoulder to shoulder, well versed in the inspection routine. The two gentlemen walked up and down the row several times each indecisively. The Palace only imported the best looking and best performing girls in the world, so the choice was a hard one. One gentleman reached his hand into Kim's exposed snatch and stuck a pair of fingers into her hole. "Pretty tight. This one do a lot of work?" "None of `em do. I keep `em to once a week, most guys like em tight." Mich told everyone that, but it was bullshit. The girls got fucked every other day during a slow week. The older of the two gentlemen walked over to Natasha, and squeezed one tit through her white t-shirt. "I'll take this one." He said, and handed his money to Mich. With that he grabbed the red haired, busty queen by the wrist and pulled her towards the hallway with the rooms in it. "Come on bitch, we're gonna have some fun." The other man, who'd fingered Kim remained indecisive.He looked back and forth between Kim and Heather, the blond haired Brit with the biggest boobs of the pack. "Aw hell, I want `em both. " He pulled out his wallet and gave $500 to Mich, and thanked him before leading his ladies to an empty room. * * * Jim Harris looked over his whore. She stood less than five and a half feet tall, that was good he liked `em short. Her boobs were bigger than any he'd ever laid. Her shoulder length hair was a ruby red color, damn sexy. She looked to be Russian, but was slender like a westerner, not big as a house like most Russian girls. Within minutes of bringing her into the room he'd thrown her to he bed, and ripped, literally her t-shirt from her body. She wore no bra, as they were hard to come by. Her breasts were beautiful, and her skin unblemished. He would have sucked those tits a while, but watching the dancers had made him horny, and he needed a good straight fuck to get him warmed up. He slid the form fitting blue jeans from her frame, along with her silk panties, and savagely pushed her slender thighs apart. Dropping his own pants, he positioned himself between her spread legs, and before she'd even had time to collect herself from the initial assault entered her. She cried out softly, but he didn't give a fuck. They fell into a solid rhythm shortly. Her cunt was tight for a whore, tight even for the average flirt. He came in minutes, enjoying the hell out of his orgasm. He didn't care if she got off, mostly cause she wasn't paying. Hell he didn't even care if he hurt this bitch. He pulled out, and fell back on the bed, moaning in ecstasy. He smiled. "Now get up and get yourself off for me while I wait for the next shift to come in."