Divided Loyalty
Chapter 7: Consolidated Loyalty

Copyright© 2016 by chris.lionofthenorth

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 7: Consolidated Loyalty - A CIA agent is caught behind enemy lines and the KGB sends their top interrogator to crack him

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mind Control   Hypnosis   Drunk/Drugged   Heterosexual   Fiction   Light Bond   Big Breasts  

“In a surprising turn of events, the mayor of Odessa, Artem Yaroslav, has formally requested that his city be annexed by the Free Peoples of Ukraine. In response, President Petro Poroshenko has fired Mr. Yaroslav from his post, effective immediately, and is requesting military assistance from Ukraine’s NATO allies.

This marks the latest development in the Ukrainian Separation Movement, which started early 2014, and has resulted in nearly half of Ukraine’s land seceding away only a couple short years later. Although Russia has reduced its military presence along the Russia-Ukraine border, the well-supplied and organized group of rebels has succeeded in defeating the pro-Ukraine government forces in recent months, prompting experts to speculate that Russia is still somehow involved.”

Click

“You have done exceedingly well, Commander Theodora” a man’s deep voice intoned.

“I have my special agents to thank for that” Theodora replied. She half-glanced behind her, motioning towards the three women seated behind her.

“Without them”, Theodora continued, “We wouldn’t have the intel necessary to wage this war ... or the suggestions necessary to keep the U.S. out of the conflict.” She emphasized “suggestions” with a sideways nod and smirk

Pushkin knew all too well how Theodora’s suggestions worked, and even though he hadn’t voted for Theodora to train and command the three KGB agents behind her, he could not argue with the results.

“Yes, very impressive. You have infiltrated CIA and FBI in very short time-”

“More than that” Theodora interrupted him, “We’ve been able to turn many of their agents to serve Russia instead.”

Pushkin bristled at the interruption- after all, he was the commanding officer here.

“But I worry that your operation is exposed, Theodora” he said, omitting her title. “You tell us you have over 20 men at your disposal, but how can you guarantee their loyalty? You cannot honestly believe that these American patriots will abandon their cause so quickly.”

“I can” Theodora said, firmly.

“Well, we disagree.” Pushkin and Theodora stared at each other. I knew the Directorate Chief would take his side, Theodora thought. I’ve been away for too long.

“You need to develop a withdrawal strategy for your operation, Commander Theodora.”

What?! “You’re giving us the axe?!”

“What an odd American expression. I do think you have spent too much time with those hypocritical sissies.”

Theodora was fuming- How dare he! I’m the reason for our success! Jealous prick!

Calm yourself, Theodora told herself. She realized that her eyes had gotten wider, betraying her surprise at the news. “If you do this, you will undo all of the success we’ve had this past year” she replied, as coolly as she could muster.

“The war is over, Theodora” Pushkin replied. “It is only a matter of time before the Free People declare for peace, and then Mother Russia will finally have all of Ukraine’s access to the Black Sea. The shift in power is ... inevitable.”

Short-sighted fool. “But without the puppet master, who will pull the strings on the Americans, hmm?” she said, standing up. “Or did you not think that far ahead?”

“Enough, Theodora” Pushkin bellowed. But Theodora was not backing down quite yet-

“You don’t understand, because you aren’t out there, Pushkin” she emphasized, “The Americans are smarter than you think, and if you pull us out now, someone else will take the place of our double agents, and we will be back where we started!” she yelled, hands on the desk.

A sneer appeared on Field Marshall Pushkin’s face- “You don’t make these decisions, Commander.” The pulling of rank was not lost on Theodora.

I can’t change his mind, Theodora realized. It was a battle she could not win.

Taking advantage of Theodora’s silence, Pushkin continued, “So, now that we have an understanding of the situation, will you comply with your orders?”

Theodora continued to stare at Pushkin from across the desk, letting her emotions overwhelm her for a few more tense seconds before she composed herself.

“Yes, of course I will obey the Directorate Chief’s orders. I will work on our operation’s exit strategy right away” she said, leaning back and taking her fists off the desk.

“Excellent choice, Theo-”

“We’re done here” Theodora cut him off, her words heavy with a mixture of finality and disgust. She turned away without looking at her commanding officer, and walked out of the room.

But I’m not finished yet.

Theodora was back in her office, in the D.C area, contemplating her next move-

The time table needs to be sped up, she realized, but how?

Since receiving the orders to terminate her project, Theodora had been weighing the benefits of implementing her latest scheme versus the consequences of disobeying her superiors.

How long could I stall them, I wonder? A couple months, at most?

Theodora knew that she provoked the Russian Defense Ministry with her insubordination, it would mean career suicide.

Needing to distract herself from her dilemma, Theodora pressed a key on her computer, lighting up one of the screens-

“How bad do you want to cum right now?” asked the husky female voice.

“So bad” came the plaintive male response.

“Would you do anything for me?” she teased.

“Yes, of course, anything!” he yelled.

Theodora recognized both the sound and image of Mileena, who was engaged in the task of breaking the will of a man Theodora had already forgotten the name of.

Was he a State Department official? There had been so many men coming to Release recently, that it was hard to keep track of.

Theodora watched the figure of Mileena, her blonde protege, with a sense of pride and appreciation- that girl has the physique of a gymnast, combined with the eye-catching looks of a porn star. What a physical beauty.

Theodora sighed, looking at her own body. Although Theodora was a knockout- sporting a 32F cup size, slim waist, and 42” waist- she didn’t have the same muscle tone that Mileena sported.

“Say it!” Mileena commanded.

“I will serve only you and your master, Theodora!” the man shrieked. Theodora looked at the screen and saw that the man was lying down with his back on the couch, Mileena poised above him.

Looking closer, Theodora saw that Mileena and the man were both naked, and that Mileena was moving her hips in a slow circle above his crotch.

“I live only to serve you! Please!” came the man’s cry. Theodora could see the pain on his face.

Mileena responded with something low and inaudible, so Theodora moved closer to the screen.

She’s got the tip of his cock in her pussy, Theodora realized. Wow, what body control.

“I will give up my family, my country, everything! Please let me cum!” he wailed.

But Mileena continued to twirl the man’s cock in fast circles, keeping control of it with a blend of vaginal strength and perfect hip movement. She must’ve planted the suggestion that the longer and faster she held onto his cock, the deeper his lust and servitude would grow, because Theodora could tell this man was mentally broken.

“Will you obey me and my master, no matter what we command, even if it means betraying your country?” Mileena continued, seemingly unconvinced of this man’s shows of fealty.

“YES, YES!” the man screamed. Theodora backed away from the screen, surprised by the man’s volume.

“Tell me you want to betray your country, that it would feel so good”

After a slight pause, the man responded- “Yes, it will feel sooo good, master”. At this point, Theodora knew that the pause was not hesitation, but realization. She knows it too.

“Cum for your master, and be born into complete obedience to us” Mileena hissed.

“OOHH-”

Theodora cut the sound right as the screams of orgasm started.

We’re too good at this to let it end here, Theodora realized. We’re ready for the next step, consequences be damned.

Theodora gave a slight nod, a signal for her counterpart.

“You look lovely, master” Theodora heard in her ear. She turned to the side to see Jack Harrison leaning away from her. “Do not refer to me as ‘master’ tonight. Understood?” she said curtly.

“Of course” he replied.

“And thank you, Jack” she said sweetly. Having enslaved Jack’s mind over a year ago, Theodora knew that their bond was unbreakable, as strong and pure as in any love story.

A modern day Romeo and Juliet? Theodora mused. Jack caught her smirk, and his eyes lit up with curiosity.

“Although I own many men, Jack, you will always be my first.” It was a sentiment Theodora very rarely shared, and she wasn’t sure why she did so at this moment.

Jack half-closed his eyes in an expression of bliss.

Theodora and the newly-appointed Field Operations Manager Jack Harrison walked around the museum, pretending to admire the paintings. Having bent the CIA’s own deputy director, Morgan Utley, to her will, it was easy to advance the careers of her ensorceled subjects. It was only through his recent promotion that Jack was even invited to the private showing of the new National Gallery of Art exhibit, Civic Pride: Group Portraits from Amsterdam. Theodora, playing Jack’s plus one, could not help but be enraptured at the amazing art surrounding them.

“This is art, I suppose” she sighed to a stranger examining the same painting as her.

“Hmm” was his noncommittal reply. He obviously didn’t know what to say to Theodora’s artistic opinion.

“I mean, all these paintings are nicely done- I just wish the subject matter was a bit more, interesting?” she said, turning to the man beside her.

The man only looked briefly at her, then resumed his scrutiny of the painting, albeit with a definite degree of uncomfortableness.

“Everywhere, all I see are stodgy old men in black outfits, staring at the audience, as if to say, ‘we’re bored too’” Theodora said, facing the painting again.

“Pardon me” the man said, before quickly leaving her company.

Theodora felt isolated again, save for the many eyes that were now watching her from the wall...

“I bet she’s having a lot more fun than I am” Theodora muttered to herself.

“Mr. Vice President, a pleasure as always” Mr. Utley said, nodding with respect.

“Oh please, Morgan, call me Bill” the Vice President responded, shaking Morgan’s hand.

William Burr smiled enthusiastically- but then again he always seemed enthusiastic. He was the type of person that seemed to have limitless energy, never becoming too tired or emotionally drained enough that he couldn’t talk to just one more person before leaving the room. It was that quality, combined with his God-given people skills, that made him an obvious vice presidential running mate over 7 years ago.

Vice President Burr stood at 5’11’’, only a few inches shorter than the taller Morgan Utley. As expected of the Vice President, he was physically fit, having endured the daily morning jog with the President for many years now. Despite his 55 years of age, Vice President Burr still had a youthful face and a full head of pale blonde hair. In fact, the best indicators of his age were the deep creases that lined the outside of his mouth- and they were in fact laugh lines, and totally in sync with his easy-going personality.

“Are you enjoying the exhibit, sir?” Morgan said in his usual monotone voice.

“Absolutely. Carol and I rarely get to see the wonderful museums in D.C., what with the White House and all” Burr chuckled. His creases deepened as he laughed, and Morgan could not understand what made this man so happy all the time.

“Are you a fan of the art?” Morgan asked, sipping his champagne.

“Oh, well, of course. It’s a wonderful display of civic art; it tells the world that of all the things in nature, of all the possibilities of our imagination, that our own politics take priority. It is a statement to the world that we are proud of our elected leaders, and our leaders work humbly for the good of the people.” Burr then smiled at one of the paintings, The Governors of the Kloveniersdoelen, by Govert Flinck.

“I’m sure the artist was commissioned for his work and paid handsomely” Morgan replied, dryly.

William gave a short laugh, “Yes, agreed. But you can’t blame an elected official for painting such a lovely picture of idealized politics, can you?”

Morgan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the pun, and managed a smile. “Very good, Bill.”

When the moment of levity had worn off, Morgan continued his questioning, “Have you ever heard of Manet?”

The Vice President pretended to be hurt, “Have I heard of Manet?” he said, incredulously. “I may not frequent the museums like I used to, but I do have a minor in art from Georgetown, you know.”

Morgan continued, unfazed by William’s faux outburst, “Well, in that case, I have a surprise for you.” Morgan seemed to have a genuine smirk, which was highly unusual for him.

“I’m intrigued” William said. He waited for Morgan to continue.

“There is a very special painting by Manet, and it is located in this building” Morgan teased.

“What painting? Where?” William said with earnest interest.

“It’s a surprise, remember?”

“Morgan, this is so unlike you” William said with excitement.

“Yes, maybe, but I knew you would enjoy it. That’s why I set up a private viewing. Just us two, and a special guest. As soon as you are ready, we can go.”

Vice President Burr pursed his lip- “I still have to make my rounds, pressing the flesh and all ... but I should be back in say, 45 minutes?”

“We are at your service, Mr. Vice President” Morgan replied, bowing.

“Don’t call me that” William replied, tartly.

After an hour, the Vice President showed up to the same spot where he had talked to Morgan, now with a secret service agent in tow. Morgan glanced up at the bodyguard, and looked at William in confusion-

“Customary precaution. I have to be in sight of somebody, at all times” William shrugged.

Morgan leaned in closer, “The special guest I mentioned doesn’t like new people- it was hard enough to let you into this private showing. If you want, I can bring one of my own agents- he’s armed and I can vouch for him.”

William thought about it for a few seconds-

“George, I’m going to be under Mr. Utley’s detail for the time being. I’ll come see you before I leave” William said to his shadow.

“Mr. Vice President” the man said, taking his leave.

“Thank you” he replied. Turning back to Morgan, William had a big smile on his face.

“Right this way”

Travelling to the back of the museum, William was led to one of the closed off wings. Although there was black and yellow tape covering the double doors, and a sign that read “closed- do not enter”, Morgan lifted up the tape once he saw that no one else was nearby, and entered through the doors.

William followed behind, and entered a dimly-lit room with a high ceiling, the same as all of the other rooms. There was another man in the room, who turned when he heard them come in.

“Mr. Burr, I’d like you to meet agent Jeremy Kenshaw. I like to have him as my escort at public events. He’s one of the best” Morgan said.

“A pleasure to meet you, son” the Vice President said, shaking his hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Vice President” Jeremy replied. William noticed that although Jeremy looked in shape, he seemed a little small for personal protection duty.

“Now I have to warn you, Bill, that this art procurer likes to do the talking, to be in charge, so to speak” Morgan explained.

“I see” William replied.

“And when she displays a piece of art, she really gets into it. It’s best not to interrupt her.”

“Ah, well, I knew quite a few eccentrics in my college days. It shouldn’t be an issue” William smiled.

“Very good, I know you’ll enjoy this, sir. It’s right in this side room here.” Leading the way, with Jeremy taking up the rear, Morgan walked over to a room marked “Private”, and entered.

The room was small, only 20’ x 20’, and was probably used as storage at one point by the museum. In the middle was an old brown leather chair, perhaps one that was old enough to be displayed in the museum. The chair faced an easel that was wrapped in a white sheet, obviously a cover for some large painting. William noticed a pair of bare legs behind the easel.

“Have a seat, Bill” Morgan instructed, holding his hand out towards the chair. William walked slowly around the chair, noticing a large piece of furniture in the back corner. When he turned and saw that Morgan and Jeremy had their own seats by the door, he sat down.

As soon as he sat down, the legs behind the easel moved, heels clicking on the marble floor. The high heels were a polished black, and William noticed that the woman wore stockings, too.

Wow, she’s tall, William thought. Turning around the side of the canvas, a tall redhead stepped in front of the sheet-drawn easel. She looked down at William from atop her black librarian glasses, studying him.

The moments passed before William could not help but end the tension- “Uh, hello, my name is-”

“William Burr, yes I know” came her interruption. Her voice either had an air of arrogance, or indifference, William couldn’t tell. Another few moments passed before she spoke.

“You may call me ‘Miss Venus’. You’ll see why in a minute.”

Walking over to the other side of the easel, Miss Venus turned to start pulling away the white sheet that hid the supposed Manet he had been waiting for. As she did, William had to admit to himself that Miss Venus was a rather striking individual- she had long, slender legs whose movement were accentuated by the 3” high heels she wore.She had a black pencil skirt that wrapped tightly around her hips, showing their slight up-and-down movement with every step.

On top, she had a fresh-looking white blouse, fitted perfectly to her lithe body. The top couple buttons were undone, showing her clavicle and upper chest, but none of her bust, which was tightly pressed against her blouse. Her skin was pale and smooth, from what William could see of her upper chest, forearms, and face. She was wearing a light shade of pink lipstick with her mascara, but otherwise she didn’t have much makeup on. Her auburn hair was tied up in a bun, which seemed very large and complicated once she had her head turned away from him.

“Are you ready?” She said, turning her head over her shoulder. William noticed how vibrant her blue eyes were, and almost forgot to respond-

“Yes” he said, quickly.

Pulling the sheet off with one large movement, William instantly recognized the piece as Olympia, definitely an Edouard Manet.

“Oh my, is that real?!” William said, loudly.

“As far as anyone can tell, yes” Miss Venus said with a smile. “Let me explain- in 1974, a man by the name of Denis Cuvier discovered a hidden stash of treasure in an abandoned mine in Albstadt, Germany. Denis knew that the Germans had stolen many pieces of art during the war, and that the stash was likely worth a fortune, so he kept it a secret.”

“Mr. Cuvier did not have a steady-paying job at the time, so he sold many of the coins, and some of the art pieces. As you would expect, word spread about his wealth, and one day, the police found him dead in his mansion, his vault open and empty.”

“Years later, this painting resurfaced in the private collection of a certain hedge fund manager, by the name of Frank Bogardus. Mr. Bogardus tried to have the painting authenticated privately, and was told that his painting was a fake. Having believed the authenticator, who was in fact a con artist, he sold it to another private collector, who ended up being a partner to the con artist. This second private collector, along with the faux authenticator, tried to sell the painting to the Musée d’Orsay, the site of the supposed ‘original’ Olympia, in 1996. They were unsuccessful, and subsequently charged with forgery, so the two men had to sell the painting to pay for legal fees. This is how it came into my possession” she said, triumphantly.

“Wow, that’s quite the story” William said, taken back.

“Yes, and for obvious reasons, I don’t like to bring this work of art into the open, in case it is the ‘real thing’.” Miss Venus looked to the corner of the room, “but Morgan here has a special interest in this piece, because it speaks to him...”

William could not see behind him very well, or else he would have noticed his rapt attention to Miss Venus-

“As it will to you” Miss Venus said, returning her gaze to William.

“Now, to really appreciate this piece of art, you have to examine it closely” Miss Venus said, sliding the easel closer to William’s chair. “Just listen to my words ... and feel what I’m telling you” she slowly instructed him.

“Observe this painting first for what it shows- a beautiful, flawlessly pale-skinned young woman, lounging so effortlessly on a bed. Follow the contours of her body- from her slender legs, up her waist, curving around her supple breasts.” William studied the painting intently.

“Focus now on her breasts, and see how natural and pert they are- exactly how a young woman should be. Her hand is covering her genitals- not because she is ashamed, but because she is saving the surprise for her lover. Her lover, who could be you...” William continued to stare at the figure in the painting, losing track of Miss Venus.

“Yes, you can see it in her eyes, that she is beckoning for you to come to her, to join her in bed. Her hand is lightly grasping the shawl, waiting for the two of you to be covered with it, so you may bask in her body, to be overwhelmed by her sexuality, to lose your senses to her.”

 
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