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Subject: {ASSM} {RP} The Russian Girl (Part 1) by Katzmarek (Mf, teen)
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Recovered and re-edited, formally it was an appalling mess, being one of my first efforts. {K}
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<1st attachment, "The Russian Girl 1.txt" begin>
Authors Note
-------------
This story is entirely a work of fiction. It is for entertainment
purposes only and does not reflect the authors views or
attitudes. This work may not bereproduced for profit without the authors express permission. Ifyou feel you would be offended by the content, or underage please proceed no further. ..The Katz
----------------------------------------------------------------
The Russian Girl (Part 1)
By Katzmarek.
My name is Eric Adam. Not my real name of course, because in my
line of business one has to be discreet.
I'm in the adult movie business, well ok, porn business. I make
those phoney first-timer things, where the girl is 'reluctantly'
seduced. So, they don't fool anyone, but what the consumers like
are the fresh faces.
Therefore I'm always on the lookout for new talent. Don't get me
wrong, I'm always strictly professional in everything I do. Any
schmuck with a Sony Digital thinks they can convince some girl
they have met on the street to make a movie but the reality is
very different.
That means dealing with agents, signing contracts, releases,
arranging medicals if they are not regularly tested, and dozens
of other housekeeping tasks to ensure that the industry is kept
clean.
Oh yeah! I know that we have people in the industry that operate
outside the law but that's not my style, never has been.
Anyway this guy keeps ringing me saying he has this new girl. I
normally only deal with certain agents, but I was stuck for new
models for my latest production and the schedule was tight. So I
agree to see him and check out what he has.
I immediately didn't like the guy, way too shifty. He reeked of
deceit and I have a good nose for the business. I know when I'm
being conned. But the girl, she was stunning. I should have
turfed the bum out of my office if it wasn't for her.
She had blond hair that cascaded loosely down her shoulders. She
was skinny, too skinny, and her little breasts jutted straight
out under her tight top. Her nicely rounded hips topped very long
legs but what got me was her face.
Her too-heavy make-up couldn't disguise the prettiest face I had
seen in a long time. When she dropped her eyes, which she did
most of the time, her hooded eyelids combined to become extremely
seductive.
He told me she was an 18yr old German who spoke no English. Bull!
I thought, I've never met a young German who hadn't SOME command
of English. And as for 18!, more like 16 if she was a day. He
showed me a copy of her papers, but I'm no fool and you can pick
them up for a couple of hundred bucks. Birth Certificate was a
fake too I would guess. The nude shot he showed me revealed a
beautiful body, alas not hers though. Typical cut and paste fake.
I know my photography, the idiot!
As the interview proceeded I judged from her accent, she would
repeat 'yes' to his prompting (Probably the only English word she
knew) that she was either Russian or Polish. I'd guess this dude
picked her up from some flesh trader in Europe who had scooped
her up from the street.
What the stupid fuck of a would-be agent didn't know, was, I am
of German/ Russian descent. I had majored in languages and film
at University and I could speak Russian, German, French as well
as English quite well. I had to get rid of him for a while so I
could speak to the girl alone. I smelled illegality here, big
time long-stretch illegality. Like abduction of a minor, for a
start.
"Ok Ray," I said to this prick, "I want to see some decent shots
of her, that haven't been re-touched. Got any more?"
"Yeah, in my car."
The scum disappeared leaving his prize.
Content I could get nothing out of her.
"[German] What are you doing here?"
No answer, confusion. Her eyes displayed nervousness. I repeated the question
in Russian.
Bingo! The lights came on; she leant forward excitedly, achingly
beautiful.
"[Russian] I want to be in the movies."
Her Russian betrayed a limited education.
"[Russian] Do you know what movies I make?" I asked.
She looked confused again.
"[Russian] You make... (She put a finger between her fist and
slid it in and out)... I have to do this... so I can become a
star."
'Oh Christ!' I thought.
"[Russian] How old are you... really," flashing her my winning
smile, I hoped.
"[Russian] 19". She said.
"[Russian] Not 18?" I asked, grinning.
"[Russian] You want me to be 18?" she replied.
"[Russian] I need the truth, You can tell me, it will be ok."
"[Russian] Don't tell him I told Ok." I shook my head.
"[Russ] I'm 14 I think," she said fixing a spot on the carpet.
'Shit!' I thought.
Just then asshole comes rushing in the door. Alarm all over his
face, he looks around the room then stares at me.
"What have you been telling her?" he says.
"I think you had better split before the cops get here," I reply.
The girl looked around panicking.
"[Russ] What are you saying?" she asks.
"[Russ] It's alright, I'll look after you, this is a very bad
man, he tricks you, trust me."
"Speak fucking English," he roars.
"Better hurry pal," I say, looking out the window.
His eyes widen and he scuttles for the door.
I watch him take the stairway in two leaps and wrestle with the
glass door to the street. He gets it open and peers up and down
the street.
"Asshole", he shouts back at me. Then he bolts.
If he had left it at that he would have got away clean. But the
rube must have blown a fuse when he got to his car. He grabs a
tire-iron and comes back to smash in the glass door, just as a
Police cruiser was driving past. I knew I had to make the call
then as I watched him being thrown over the hood of his Ford and
cuffed. No telling what complexion he was going to put on his
statement to the cops and I wasn't going to be caught in the
middle.
Now I have a good relationship with the cops, have to,
particularly the Vice boys.
I had just completed my statement when Sergeant Shapiro,
head of the Vice section at the local precinct, comes and sees me.
"Eric, we've got no-one to translate for her, can you stay awhile
longer".
"Sure Frankie", I says.
I enter the interview room and there she is, seated at the table.
Her face was tear-streaked which had made the make-up run [he
couldn't be bothered to get some decent make-up for her]. So she
looks like a frightened cat. Her big blue eyes wide with terror.
Next to her was a woman from Child Protection, all-businesslike
staring at some papers before her.
Shapiro sits himself opposite her, a woman Uniform hovers by the
door. I sit on the other side of the girl.
"This piece of shit", he says to me.
I look at the woman from CPS and she doesn't even look up. Probably
heard it all before.
"... By the name of Raymond Hunt says he's worked in your neck of
the woods as a cameraman. Ever heard of him"?
I shook my head. I don't know everyone.
"... Got hired by some guys to do the fronting. Said he knew the
business."
"He doesn't", I said.
"I know. He's got a few priors... small time hood, but he's never
been out of the country".
"That figures", I said.
"So we need her name and who imported her," he goes on.
"[Russ] What is your name?" I ask. She looks startled, she looks
up at me, I smile as consolingly as I could.
"[Russ] It's alright, just tell them the truth. You will not be
harmed, these are good Policemen."
I know the workings of the law in her native land and figured
she didn't have a good opinion of Police.
"[Russ] My name is Anna", she answers.
"Yeah I got that Eric, as in Kournakova. They're all called Anna.
Can she give us a real one Eric?"
"Back off Frankie, she's peeing herself, can't you see", I tell
him, "Ok ok, just give me a few minutes will you?
[Russ] You must tell him everything, so he can help you... I will stay
with you, right here." I put my arm around her comfortingly.
The scent of her shampoo makes my head spin. She begins to sob
against my shoulder. I hug her and tell her everything's ok.
Of course it's not, at least for her. She'll be sent back to
Russia to Christ knows what. I didn't have the heart to tell her
that but I think she knew anyway.
"[Russ] I just want to be an actress, here in America". She
blubbers to me. I put my hand up to shush Frank, who's huffing
with impatience.
"Look, I've got some things to do", he says, "Call me when you've
got something".
"Sure Frankie. [Russ] Look! you must understand. To be an actress
here you must have English. You can't get into serious movies by
doing..." I copy the hand and finger motion she used earlier
in my office.
"[Russ] You have been told big lies, by evil men, who want to use
you to make a lot of money. Where is your Passport?"
"[Russ] Vasiliy has it".
'Ah we were getting somewhere.'
"[Russ] Vasiliy who?" I ask.
She shrugs her shoulders.
"[Russ] Where is he staying"? I ask.
'Shit I'd make a good cop', I thought.
"[Russ] At the hotel."
"[Russ] Which one?" Again she shrugs, great!
"[Russ] What's your home town love?" trying a different tack.
"[Russ} St Petersburg."
"[Russ] Where were you born?" I ask, acting on a hunch.
"[Russ] Belozersk."
"[Russ] On the Beloye Ozero? Beautiful place! Why would anyone
want to leave?" She lit up like a sunbeam and we were away.
An hour later Frank returns.
"Ok, so what have we got?" he sighs.
"She's Lina Anastasia Smeridova, Belozersk, Russian Federation,
she's 14 years old, been living on the streets of St Petersburg
since the age of 12. Mother's name is Milla, alcoholic, no father
to speak of. A man named Vasiliy; no last name approached her,
who offered to help her become an actress in the US. He
got her some papers and a work permit and they flew via Berlin to LAX.
She was to tell everyone she was 18 and he gave her a 'Hollywood'
name of 'Anna Schuette', the name on her faked German passport.
They are staying at a hotel near Venice Beach but she doesn't
know the name except that it was small and the concierge's name
was Peter, he was Greek and he could speak a little Russian."
"Jesus fucking Christ Eric, do you want a job?"
"Pays lousy Frankie, Oh! Vasiliy has her passport... of course."
"Of course... we'll try and find this Vasiliy but I suspect he's
already disappeared."
"Yeah! Um Frankie?" I says, "any way that she could stay in
the country, I kind of feel responsible for her. I told her
that I'd look after her... I'm probably the only one in this
country that she trusts... She wants to be an actress."
"Huh, not in your films Eric". He said vigorously shaking his
head, but he was smiling.
"Immigration will want to send her back pal, I'm sorry. She'll
have to go with CPS until the trial of that piece of shit. We'll
try to nail this other guy and any accomplices we can find, so we
can probably hold her for, maybe a couple of months... Then,
it's out of my hands buddy. Sorry, all I can do". And he throws
his hands in the air.
As the CPS lady leads her away I press a note in Lina's hand with
my phone number and tell her to ring me. I didn't know if she
could use a phone but I couldn't think of anything else to do.
CPS would keep her under-wraps in some foster home and I didn't
think I'd have access to her. I had to get back to work.
A couple of days later I get a call, not from Lina, but from her
Social Worker.
"Mr Adam? I wonder if you can help us. We got this number from
Lina but, of course, she is not permitted to make calls, policy."
"Of course," I said sarcastically, it was missed.
"We can't seem to communicate with her very well. The translator
they sent us can't seem to make her understand, and vice-versa.
She has a heavy accent."
"Karelian", I interrupted.
"Yes... well we can't find anybody... can you help us... it's very
difficult."
Well I wanted to see the girl again. I'd been thinking about her
every day, but I couldn't believe that any fluent Russian speaker
couldn't make themselves understood, accent or no accent.
Karelian Russians are more Finnish than Slav and have their own
language. But Russian is taught in the schools and their
education system is quite good. She may have an accent but she
could speak pretty well from what I heard.
"OK, give me a couple of hours and I'll be down," I say.
I get the address and go on down. She's sitting all alone in this
day-room all sullen and gloomy.
"[Russ] Hey Lina," I say and she brightens up.
She runs to me like a little child, who's seen her mommy,
throwing her arms around me and hugging her sweet little body
against mine.
"[Russ] Eric... Eric... you must take me away from here. I don't
like these people... they won't let me out... or do anything...
they are cruel to me... it is like prison."
"[Russ] Easy Lina, what's been happening", I set her down. She
was having an effect on my organ and I didn't think this was the
right place.
She told me about all the misunderstandings that had been
occurring.
I quickly realized that she was exaggerating and that she
could understand them quite well. She had used that as a ruse
to get them to fetch me. She still clung on to the idea that I
could turn her into a movie star and keep her from going back
home.
I talked to the supervisor suggesting I take her on little
outings and they reluctantly agreed, providing we were
accompanied by one of their carers.
I thought that things would improve a bit if she could get out,
so I took her to the park for an hour. Strolling along, with her
keeper in tow, we chatted about Russia, her life, my life and
about the USA. She wanted to know everything, she was insatiably
curious.
She was still wearing the same clothes she wore when I first saw
her, but without the heavy make-up. The tight top still clung
tight to her cone-like little titties and were making my mouth
dry. I suggested we go shopping for clothes and, disentangling
her from my neck, I passed on the information to the keeper.
She was like a little child as she bounced around each shop we
came to. Soon we were burdened down with shopping and my credit
card had a large hole in it. I also bought her some other little
trinkets and a Discman. Next came some CDs of music that I
thought she would like plus some Russian/English lessons on disk.
She thought that all her Christmases had come at once, and
probably they had.
Each new purchase elicited a wild yelp and a vigorous embrace.
That's probably why I was eventually down 2 grand. She was
dressed in her new American clothes and a proper bra and thus she
looked like any other American kid. I guess this stuff would be
worth a fortune back in Russia.
When we got back to the foster home she was a changed person. The
staff were flabbergasted by the difference. As I began to leave
she again threw her arms around me, this time planting a slippery
smacker right on my lips. I even detected a little tongue action
and with her welded to me my dick rose like a rocket.
I gently eased her away with the staff shooting daggers at me. I
was showering gifts and lip-locking with this young Russian
nymph, well, a bit suspicious no?
Anyway, I assure the staff of my good intentions and explain the
circumstances of our meeting. They were not too sanguine about
my profession so I spent some time acquainting them of the
business, and my part in it. After a while they came round and
agreed I could take her out some more providing we were
supervised.
The next day they ring and ask if I could accompany her to the
medical center. She still had them convinced I was the only
person who could translate. They needed her to have a full
physical. I guess they wanted to test her for Aids, and other
STDs.
Down I drive and off we go, with the supervisor. She has to give
the Doctor her medical, and sexual history and I'm busily
translating while they do what they have to do behind the
curtain.
No, she's no virgin, but she hadn't had vaginal sex for about 6
months. She was free of STDs, apparently Vasiliy had seen to
that. She was medically fit but undernourished, not surprisingly.
The Doctor recommended dietary supplements and certain food
groups to build her up. I told her she must do it, as I didn't
want her to become anorexic.
As for her sexual history, I learned that she had lost her
virginity to some boy while living in St Petersburg. He had
recommended she turn tricks for him but had refused. She told him
that it hurt too much. Vasiliy and Raymond hadn't screwed her but
they had helped themselves to blow-jobs.
It was supposed to be part of her training for acting in America.
She said she didn't like it when they had shot in her mouth and
insisted she swallow it. Hearing her talk about it got me a little
horny.
Shapiro rang the next day saying they had bagged this Vasiliy at
the airport and they had him in custody. Because of the
seriousness of the offenses he would be locked in the pen while
they got all the paperwork done through Interpol. At the moment
the list of charges came to 16 including sex with a minor, and he
thanked me for my co-operation.
"I owe you one," he'd said.
"Immigration?" I'd replied.
"No can do," He'd answered.
"Then take your time with this case ok?"
"Look! I'll do my best with the DA; there's a lot of work to do
anyway, maybe stretch it out a month or 2, Ok?"
"Thanks Frankie Bye," I rang off.
I didn't know whether it was some innate paternal extinct or some
pedophiliac urge. I just felt myself drawn to this girl. She was
so fragile, had been so fucked up in her short life and she was
so CUTE. Her bubbling enthusiasm for everything was in stark
contrast to the usual women I came into contact with.
I became a regular visitor at the foster home.
Having shot the picture, I'd found myself with some time on
my hands before the next project. I took Lina to see Disneyland,
the movies, the beach, and, shopping. She was costing me an arm
and a leg.
She greeted each new experience with the same all-embracing gratitude
and slobbery kisses. I began to take little liberties like
cupping her little pert ass when she hugged me, as
inconspicuously as I could.
Like today she nips her tongue in my mouth, just for a split
second but it was enough. The supervisor took less and less interest
in what we were doing and now took a novel with her to read.
Shapiro rings me up and asks me to meet him at some diner
downtown. Over the steaks he tells me,
"I need a bit of background on this case Eric."
"Shoot."
"Tell me, If my daughter wanted to get into the porn business,
how would she go about it?"
"Depends", I said, "Is she pretty?"
"She looks like me. Hypothetical, how would she go about it?"
"She'd ring an agent who'd send her to a photographer. He'd make
a portfolio for her, which she'd pay for, and maybe an audition
tape."
"Yeah! And what would she have to do for the tape." he asks.
"Depends, usually some poses, maybe a strip, to prove she can
work in front of the camera."
"What does that mean?" he says.
"Well some people are natural performers, others point a camera
at them and they'll freeze," I reply.
"Ok, like making love to the lens?"
"Exactly! Not everyone can do it."
"These agents", Shapiro goes on, "Bit of a mixed bunch?"
"Sure are," I agree, "Plenty of assholes like your Raymond but
usually with more brains."
"That wouldn't be hard. Do many of them get... ah... benefits from
their clients?"
"Probably a few. Most are in a big agency with an office and a
secretary. Open offices with people coming in and out. Ones to
watch for are the small guy, all alone."
"Right," he says, "I'll bear that in mind."
Shapiro tells me our Vasiliy's name is Vasiliy Radtskii. I tell
him it's a Mafia nickname, Basil the Rat. He grimaces. More
digging.
He was trying to branch out on his own and thought she
was the key to him breaking into the North American market.
Europe was too crowded with established syndicates and he
couldn't get his girls work there. At least not without cutting
some syndicate a big share.
He was terrified of being deported back to Russia, apparently
he'd upset some important people.
'Tough break and das vedan'ya', I say.
The Russian Consulate issues her with a temporary passport. In
it is a US Visa which under 'reasons for visit' has, 'Required by
the Los Angeles County District Attorney as a trial witness'.
Stamped underneath was, 'To be returned to the Territory of the
Russian Federation at such time as the Secretary of Immigration
shall determine'.
I try and explain what all this meant but she's as pleased as
punch and stares at her photograph in excitement. She now feels
important and has an official document, a passport no less.
She gives me another big hug but this time her tits are held
in a Playtex. I think she imagines I've organized her passport and
visa.
She has been putting on some weight. It looks good on her. She
has a good Karelian bone structure. Her face is even prettier,
her cheeks are less pinched.
We go on long walks, we have seen just about all the attractions,
and I just like hanging out with her. We are now allowed out
together alone.
Despite all her travails she has a childlike innocence coupled
with a knowledge of the darker side of human nature. She's
almost two people living inside one cute teenage package.
We'd hold hands and talk, almost like boyfriend and girlfriend,
then she would get me to push her on a swing or ride with her
on a seesaw.
We get back to the foster home one afternoon for curfew when she
asks me to come around into the alley for a few minutes.
The alley, more a service lane, runs up beside the house and
there is always a dumpster there a little way up the drive.
She pulls me behind this thing and starts kissing me.
I don't see any harm, yet, so I kiss her back. Then her tongue is
in my mouth and, unlike other times, is swirling around inside,
playing with my tongue. Her lips are working away and I give her
bottom a squeeze. I figure I'll break this up in a minute but
hey? I'm really enjoying it.
Next thing she stroking the front of my pants and I'm really
hard. She squeezes my dick through my pants and says,
"You like?" in English.
"You shouldn't," I say back and put my hand on hers and, not very
forcefully, try to guide it away.
"You don't like me?" she says desperate.
"No... no", I say. She misunderstands me because she reels back as
if I'd slapped her.
"[Russ] I'm sorry... I thought..." She apologizes.
"[Russ] Lina... I like you very much. But I can't do this with
you. You are too young," I try to say.
"Ah," she says, as if the penny's dropped. "[Russ] I know many
things. What men like, I will show you. I am not too young."
That's not what I was trying to tell her.
She sinks to her knees and goes for my fly.
"Hey not here," I say, "Someone will see". And I pull her to her
feet.
She has my zipper down in a trice and her hand is fishing
for my 'old man'."
"[Russ] You're very hard."
Well she'd got that right.
Then I spot a old shed at the back of the alley. It was an
disused laundry building and the door had been kicked in. On
impulse I pull her towards it, I just wanted us out of public
view.
At least that's what I told myself. She catches on and
eagerly follows. The door opens and we slip inside, I wedge the
door shut with an old plank.
The room is dim, the window broken and spider webs hang down from
the ceiling. The place smells of urine. She's on her knees on
the dusty floor with my dick in her hand and, before I could say
'don't', her lovely velvet lips closes over the tip.
She gives my cock a thorough workout with her lips and tongue,
and I'm bracing myself against the wall. I run my hands through
her soft, silky blond tresses as she bobs up and down. She pulls
off and looks up at me smiling.
"[Russ] You want me to swallow?" I shake my head, remembering
what she'd said at the Medical Center.
"[Russ] You want to do it on my breasts." She whips her
T-shirt over her head. Her bra follows and she holding those
lovely budding cones for me to see.
I'm panting like a steam-train and she's rubbing my dick for all
it's worth, lubricated by her saliva.
She pulls my dick down so it's about level with her left tit
and flicks the nipple over my knob. A picture forms in my
imagination of me slamming her between those long beautiful
legs then I blast her, right over her tits and neck.
My legs are rubber. She stands up and plants one of her slobbery
kisses on my mouth. It tastes a bit musky. My hands roam all over
her perfect little ass and up her bare back. I even cop a feel of
her little titties, palming her erect nipples. They are slippery
with my emissions.
I offer her my handkerchief to wipe herself down and she flips on
her bra and top and she's gone. I stagger back to my car and sit
in it for a while. 'What the fuck have I done', I ask myself.
<1st attachment end>
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