Chapter 13

The elderly woman drove her luxury car into a driveway. It was the only house in eight surrounding acres in the posh area outside of Prescott Valley, AZ. The door recognized the car and automatically unlocked and opened slowly. She parked between two other luxury cars which were the super models of BMW and Mercedes- Benz. The one she was driving was a Cooperton, the number one car ever built. It was an American made company that started up in the 2030's and each one was customed built to the buyer's specifications. The woman had spent seven days with a personal engineer to work with from the headlights to the tail lights and everything in between. The color was a pearl white with an automatic jack built where each wheel would be lifted upon stopping before the driver could even act. The only thing the car couldn't do was change the tire itself. It was a sixteen cylinder with a maximum speed of 300mph. That speed was only good on desert roads where one could open it up legally.

As soon as the car passed the door, it slid down quicker than most garage door openers. By the time she exited the vehicle, the door with six 6" rods on each side locked into place. There were no windows to the structure. It would take a heavy duty fork lift to raise the door but it would destroy the rollers setting off alarms throughout the house, police station, and another house hidden in the woods of the mountainous terrain.

The woman got out, double locking everything and unlocking the six inch thick steel door as it slid up into a thick wall. She went inside and the door came down locking like the garage. She immediately walked over to the front entrance to pickup three days of mail strewn on the floor by yet another strong door. The windows and doors to this house were built to withstand storms, high winds, cars that might accidentally hit the house, and those who wasted their time attempting to burglarize the dwelling.

Seeing nothing earthshattering in the post, she tossed everything onto an antique desk to be read later. She walked through the ranch level structure setting alarms in all rooms. The Cooperton had unlocked every alarm as it turned into the driveway. The white haired woman made sure they were all reset properly since she did not plan to use it for the rest of the day. She took her remote and pressed the button twice, paused for ten seconds, once, paused again, then twice more. An automated voice asked, "Identification please."

"Lorraine Savage," she replied.

"Voice identification recognized, welcome." Yet another door slid up into the wall. which displayed a dark stairway into a basement. She walked through and it closed and locked after her. The lights came on and she walked down the stairs, pulling off the white hair which was a wig of the highest quality. She reached her room carefully placing the wig onto a wooden head with no face. "Clean and brush," she ordered and the stand lowered into a trap door. The entire floor was covered by magnificently expensive pure wool carpeting with matching wallpaper that was extremely opulent.

She sat at her vanity. She pulled off the prosthetic skins of her wrinkled face. Underneath was a beautiful young woman who appeared to be no older than twenty-five. She used cold cream to wipe the other makeup and cleanse the pores to her glowing skin. She erased the pink lipstick, a lip color that disgusted her. She loved bright red and absolutely loathed plum. Too many Hispanics used plum and she felt that they had wonderful complexions which the color disminished drastically.

She undressed, carefully hanging up each piece of clothing except for the silky slip she wore. It was lined with lace revealing an august body that few women had. She lit up a cigarette and sat on a brown velvet loveseat that went with the decor of the room of earth tones. She took four long drags which almost expended the smoke. The nicotine surged through her body as it relaxed. Her last one was the day she left on her mission to compromise the gorgeous woman she had killed.

Lorraine Savage aka Ludmilla Eketrana Viroch was a Russian assassin. It didn't bother her to kill people. However this mission was different. She would have rather given Rhonda a shot to temporarily paralyze her, drive her here, put her in a spare room in this basement to make her her sex slave. Never had she ever had an attraction toward another woman that she carried for Rhonda Dahl.

Viroch was a bi-sexual. She loved sleeping with both genders. Men for their roughness, women for their gentleness. She concluded that women were the better lovers since they knew what each wanted and how to give it to their partner. Except for a few men in Russia who were training for the same missions, males didn't know how to fully please a woman. The very best was Alexei, if that was his real name, had the skills to give her such wonderful sensations it seemed to her that he was a female with a large penis. She looked forward to training with Alexei which was on a weekly basis. Once they were sent to a resort to Odessa for a week as if they were newlyweds. They taught each other what worked for them. He was excellent when he made love whether it was genital or oral. He gave her a few pointers on how to give him blowjobs that enhanced his pleasure. That week was the best of her life. They spent most of that time in bed making love. He even gave her massive orgasms by sucking her toes. Both agreed that their genital areas had to be clean. Free from urine, not washing everyday, and using a pleasant tasting oil that enhanced the other's delight.

From a girl who worked for just a few rubles a week at a Starbucks in Moscow to being picked up for selling drugs in a sting. She was innocent of the charge but she spent three weeks in solitary confinement in Lubyanka until she was escorted by two brutish looking guards. She was taken to a room of an official who wasn't present at the moment. Handcuffed to an old chair, the guards made sure that they had fondled her breasts and mock her that she had big tits for such a skinny cunt.

Josef Feldoff had a woman take her under her wing teaching the young girl how to do everything from having sex with other trainees to picking out the most fashionable of clothing. She was taught to shoot every kind of weapon, how to plant and set off explosives, to kill with her own hands despite not being a very strong young woman. Feldoff kept on emphasizing over and over again of her strength; seduction.

Once she was properly ready to be sent out into the world, she made sure that the two guards that made life miserable for her sent to the Gulag. She was given permission to kill the two but she felt it was too good for them. She wanted them to suffer like they made her endure. Ludmilla made sure that they worked the most miserable of slave labor and not to be fed as well as the other prisoners. She wanted them to die slowly in abject misery.

Ludmilla lit another cigarette when she heard a male's voice come over the intercom from the house in the woods.

"When will you be here to give your report?" he sneered.

"When I am ready!" she shot back.

"I will not tolerate your insubordination," he growled.

"Fuck you!" she shot back, turning the intercom off.

She got herself a glass of Vodka with tomato juice. She sat relaxing smoking and sipping her drink. Ludmilla wanted to shower, fix her hair, dress in something bedazzling. Wearing old womens costly clothes were okay like the night before but she'd rather be clad in the sexy clothes of a younger woman like herself.

It took her an hour just to clean up and fix her hair. It was long, curly, and chestnut in color. She put on a shiny, waist to feet silk lined skirt. The knit top was long-sleeved but only covered her breasts. The bottom of the blouse ended at her lush breasts leaving Viroch bare to her hips. A large pendant was around her neck with the jewel hidden between the valley of her busts. A larger diamond piercing hid her navel and dangled an inch longer.

Instead of taking the underground shuttle, she lit another cigarette and walked the mile to the other house. The tunnel had bright lights which she dimmed since it hurt her eyes. She knew she was being watched by several security cameras, Ludmilla made sure she put on a show exaggerating the swishing of her ass.

"You rang?" she snapped at Viktor Gorgan as she came through the door. He was your typical Russian villain you saw in movies when they were the Soviet Union. Thick bushy eyebrows and moustache that made his mouth look like he never smiled, heavy set, and shaved head. He wore a heavy woolen black suit, black shirt and tie. Gorgan was a suck up to his superiors but treated people his equal or workers like shit. His dream in life was to fuck this gorgeous creature standing in front of him then kill her.

"Report!" he snapped.

"She's dead. One bullet between the eyes."