6. Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
T iffany, Russia
It had been a few months since I fled the US, traveled the Baltic states, then made Russia my new home. It turned out to be quite an interesting place to live in once you got used to it. People seemed to enjoy hearing me talk. They liked my accent. And it seemed as if lady luck was on my side the moment I checked into the hotel. I was able to get employment quickly.
The bartender expertly prepared my drink and slid it in front of me. The other patrons were quietly sipping their drinks, or engaged in lively conversations in their native tongue. It wasn’t as harsh-sounding as I had initially thought. Once I got used to it, I could imagine it might even lull me to sleep.
“You don’t speak Russian, do you?”
Damn. His English seemed better than mine to some extent. “No.” I tossed back the shot he had placed next to what looked like a particularly enticing cocktail. It was an attractive concoction, adorned with sparkles that caught my eye every time the dim overhead lights flickered.
“Did you just arrive?” the bartender inquired, wiping the area in front of me.
I nodded.
“Is this a visit or a vacation?”
“Neither. I’m hoping to put down roots somewhere,” I confessed.
“Oh. Have you visited the embassy yet?” he continued.
I shook my head slowly.
“Do you have a job lined up that’s sponsoring you?”
“No.”
If he found any of this suspicious, he didn’t let on. “I know of a place that’s hiring, if you don’t mind temporary work,” he offered. “And they will pay under the table.”
“Why?” I finally broke my silence. “Why help me?” This sounded like a set up for human trafficking.
“My aunt runs a temp business. She’s always looking for workers, and knowing English is a plus. She has many international clients.”
“I could use something like that,” I admitted, not fully committing, as it could still be an elaborate setup. “It’s not prostitution, right?”
He laughed. “No, no, nothing like that. Just menial labor stuff; housekeeping, serving food, laundry, and other jobs no one wants to do. She’s always looking for reliable people.”
My phone ringing interrupted my lazy day with a call from my workplace.
“ Da? ” I’d picked up some Russian from the locals.
“Tiffany, I’ve got a new job for you,” my boss said. “It’s a serving position, and I know how much you love those.”
Despite the name, the temp agency in Russia felt strangely permanent. I had taken on various jobs, but waitressing was where I excelled. It was easy. And apparently, I had a type of appeal that often got me high tips.
“I’ll take it. Please text me the info.”
“Listen. It’s a benefit gig. Very exclusive. All servers will need to sign an NDA upon arrival. Will that be a problem?”
I was confused. “Why would it?”
“The contract will not be in English. You will be signing something you cannot read.”
“Oh.” I guess I could use my phone to translate the document. “It’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll text you the rest of the information in a minute with time and location. They will be providing the uniforms.”
“Thank you.”
We hung up, and I sighed. I needed to water all my precious plants. I had found a budget-friendly apartment near my work, and though it was noisy, all the utilities were covered, and it had good light for my collection of flora. I wanted to add more exotic plants, but my savings had dwindled some. I had never left the United States before, so being in new countries had tempted me to explore. I often went sightseeing, and I even took a few cruises.
Maybe this was the reason I needed to return to my prior passions. I wondered if there were any rapists around for me to kill and loot. It had been a while since I had indulged, and I did have a collection to rebuild.
The text message came in with the details
The pay for the night was impressive.
I immediately dialed my friend, Lavinia, who often worked with me on these kinds of jobs. We looked out for each other and passed along the good assignments we received, so the other could call the boss and get in on it.
“What’s up?” she immediately asked, no hello or anything. “Did you get offered a new job?”
“Yeah, actually.” I gave her all the details as told to me, including the NDA.
“Hell no, I want nothing to do with it,” she replied. “They’re probably going to take a kidney. Girl, don’t you do that. You know people get trafficked here just like they do in the US.”
“I’m not scared,” I assured her.
Of course, she didn’t know that I always had hand-created deterrents on my person. I was a walking apothecary, and had a tolerance to a number of plant toxins. I had been practicing mithridatism since I was a young teen, after I read about the vi?akanyā. Being that I was still a virgin, I wasn’t sure if I could poison a man with my pussy, but at the very least, I knew how to deliver poison to him in other ways.
“You should be scared! You know the Bratva run this area, right?”
“Look, when I meet a rich, handsome man who wants to whisk me away to the Caribbean, don’t get on my flight.”
“More like you’re going to find a man who rips your heart out, and sacrifices your body parts to his one veritable god.”
I laughed. “You watch far too much television, Lav.”
“I’m going to steal all your clothes if you go missing. So, in case you do go missing, don’t come back.”
“Whatever.” How much trouble could a server get into? “Just make sure to take good care of my plants.”
“I know you don’t like to do the bar scene, but I think you should come out with us tonight. You stay home too much, spend too much time with those plants.”
“Sure!” This was just what I needed. I knew there was some flashy asshole who’d do something to piss me off.
“Really?!”
“Yeah. Why not?” I pulled the cell away from my ear as she squealed.
“We’ll text you when we’re on our way to pick you up!”
???
I fixed a few stray curls, giving my hair some extra volume. Russians seemed to adore my hair, and I took every opportunity to flaunt it. After applying red lipstick and checking myself in the mirror, I decided I was ready for work. I adjusted my 48 DD-sized breasts into my bra cups, and gave myself a final wink in the mirror, before heading out.
The ride to the club was quick. I usually didn’t attend gatherings like this with the other gals at the agency. For one, not everyone spoke English, and I had not mastered Russian. And two, due to the nature of my unique personality and proclivities, having too many friends was counterproductive to the goals I had set for myself.
Not that anyone thought less of me for wanting to be alone. I was often thought of as kind, sweet, and smiley. I giggled as much now as I did when I was a kid. I was always happy. I saw the good in the world, as much as I did the bad. I had read somewhere about trauma freezing your emotional development at the age in which you first suffered the trauma. It’s probably why I still enjoyed flowers, and rainbows, and stuffed animals, as much as I did poisons, and fire, and knives. Oh, and my penis collection too. I loved that.
While my outward personality might seem childlike to the many around me, I was not oblivious to the darkness inside. I knew it was wrong to kill, but I liked it. I liked hurting those who hurt me first, or hurt those I loved. I knew I would one day find my prince, and he would take me away, and we would marry. And while I might not be able to know or accept all of me, I vowed I would be the best wife ever.
It didn’t take long at the club to find my guy. He seemed arrogant, cocky even, and flashed his money around. Women seemed to swoon over him, but he only had eyes for me. It must be the red lipstick.
Of course he followed me, when I excused myself to go to the bathroom.
I didn’t fight him when he tangled his fingers in my hair and pressed me, face first, against the dingy wall in the dim hallway.
His constrained erection jutted into my ass. He jerked my head to the side and began kissing my neck and shoulder.
“Do you speak English?” I asked, giggling.
“Yes,” he replied with a heavy accent.
“Well, turn me around, so I can see you.”
He spun me about, shoved my back to the wall, and pinned my wrists above my head. “I have never been with an American.”
“Oh?” I noted he had a gun in a holster under his jacket. “You’re missing out!”
He leaned in to kiss me.
I giggled and turned my head, so he could kiss my jaw instead of my lips. “Daddy, I can’t touch you.”
“What are you going to touch?”
I giggled. “Your cock, of course.”
When he released one of my hands, I rushed to delve down his pants.
“Your rings are sharp,” he growled, nipping my neck.
“Oops,” I replied, then used my thumb to shut the poison needle ring, and gripped his cock properly. I stroked the sting away. “Goodness! You’re so large, it’s no wonder my ring got caught.”
That seemed to appease him, because he licked the spot on my neck he’d bitten.
“You want to take me back to your place?” I asked.
He chuckled, his breath heavy with spirits, and pulled back. “Why? What can we do there that we can’t do here?”
I batted my eyes prettily. “Well, I want to get naked, and I want to see your glorious cock up close. Something this grand deserves to be worshiped.”
“My car is out front,” he replied, stepping back to allow me to release his erection.
“Your friends won’t mind?”
He smiled. “Those are not friends.”
“Oh. They’re your family?”
My new prey folded his hand in mine. “I have no family.”
“Aww,” I cooed. “No family at all? Why?”
“Men like me don’t have friends or family,” he replied cryptically, before tugging me along.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
On our way out, I signaled I needed to let my friends know. He nodded. He wasn’t a bad looking man, but he was young.
“I’m going home with this guy,” I said to the table of women.
The ladies cheered and lifted their glasses.
Lavania snapped her head around and her eyes grew large. She scuttled out of the dingy booth and pulled me aside. “Tiffany, no. He’s dangerous.”
Considering I had just poisoned the guy, who would be dead in twenty minutes, I figured I would be okay. “I’m not worried.”
“But he’s a Bratva soldier.”
“Well, I can’t back out now,” I reasoned. “We can’t make him mad.”
She cursed. “You’re right. Just be nice. Do whatever he says. Make him happy. It should be okay. Got it? Call me if you need a ride home.”
I beamed. “Will do!”
With an excited hop, I returned to my soon-to-be-deceased victim and threaded my arm in his.
When we got outside, I saw his car and I jumped up and down. “It’s so pretty,” I exclaimed. And expensive. Score!
Like a gentleman, he opened the door for me and helped me in.
When he got behind the wheel, I asked. “Do you live far? I’m so excited to get undressed and have a look at that impressive penis.” It was going to look so good in my collection.
He chuckled. “You are eager. Just down the road.”