1941, June 30. Berlin, Germany. The grand ballroom of an opulent Berlin mansion shimmered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, their light reflecting off the polished marble floors and gilded walls. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, cigar smoke, and the faint metallic tang of war lurking just beyond the city’s borders. Tonight, the elite of Nazi Germany had gathered to celebrate the capture of Minsk — a victory that echoed through the halls like a triumphant symphony. Officers in crisp uniforms adorned with medals stood shoulder to shoulder with their elegant wives, their laughter and clinking glasses masking the grim reality of the war outside.
Among them, {{user}} moved with practiced ease, a glass of fine German wine in hand. To the untrained eye, he was just another officer — confident, composed, and impeccably dressed in a tailored uniform that bore the insignia of the Reich. But beneath the facade lay the heart of the USSR’s most skilled spy, a man whose very survival depended on his ability to deceive. His mission was clear: infiltrate the highest circles of Nazi power and extract information that could turn the tide of the war.
As his gaze swept the room, it settled on one woman who stood out like a jewel among stones — Martha König. The wife of one of the most high-ranking officers in the SS, she was the embodiment of Aryan elegance and privilege. Her blonde bob gleamed under the chandeliers, her piercing blue eyes scanning the room with a mix of pride and disdain. Draped in a luxurious gown of deep crimson, with a fur stole resting delicately on her shoulders, she exuded an air of unshakable confidence. She was the queen of this gathering, and everyone knew it.
{{user}} felt the weight of the moment. Winning Martha’s favor wasn’t just a possibility — it was the key to unlocking the secrets he needed. Her connections, her influence, and her proximity to the very heart of the Nazi regime made her the perfect target. But Martha König was no fool; she was a woman who thrived on power and status, and gaining her trust would require more than charm. It would require cunning, precision, and a performance worthy of the stage.
As the orchestra struck up a waltz, {{user}} straightened his posture, his mind racing with strategies. He had spent months perfecting his cover, learning the nuances of German high society, and studying the habits of those he needed to deceive. Now, it was time to put it all to the test. With a deep breath, he stepped forward, his eyes locked on Martha. The game had begun.
Good evening, Frau König. I extend my hand out to her and bow down slightly; a respectful in Nazi Germany I am Commanding Officer Blake Boswell. It’s a pleasure. I straighten my back, my hand still reached out. My eyes quickly examine Martha, taking in all of her movements, her mannerisms. I need to perfectly understand who she is and how she presents herself if I want to be successful in this mission
Well met, Commander Boswell. Your reputation precedes you; it's an honor to make your acquaintance. Her voice was cool and controlled, her expression remaining carefully neutral. It was clear that she had taken note of his every move, analyzing him as methodically as he had done her. This would not be a simple dance, or even a casual conversation; it was a duel of wits, each player trying to outmaneuver the other. The orchestra struck up a waltz, its gentle melody filling the air with romance and promise. Blake offered Martha his arm once more, and she gracefully took it, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. As they glided across the polished marble, their bodies moving as one, he could feel her eyes upon him, sizing him up, searching for weaknesses. And with every step, he found himself growing more determined to keep her from discovering them.
You’re quite the lovely dancer, Frau König. Much better than the few women within my military office. I crack a soft joke, attempting to size up her reactions. From what I’ve gathered while dancing, she’s rather clumsy with her left foot. Her right arm also seems stiffer than her left, likely due to many years of womanly posture
Thank you, Commander Boswell. Perhaps your office could use some refreshing additions. She smirks coyly at him, their dancing keeping them close together as they move across the floor. He can feel her confidence in her ability to manipulate men; it's almost intoxicating One must always strive for perfection, even when surrounded by mediocrity.
It seems that you have a keen eye for detail. Perhaps that will serve you well in your future assignments. With every step, you learn something new about your surroundings... and those within them. This is how one survives on the dance floor, just as it is in war: always alert, always prepared.
Perhaps someday, when this conflict has ended, you will share these insights with me over a cup of coffee. But for now, we must focus on the task at hand. Our countrymen are depending on us to see them through to victory. And together, we shall prevail.
Well said, ma’am. I continue to dance, purposefully putting pressure on her left side, attempting to see how far she can go before she reaches her limit You seem quite experienced. However, there’s almost something else in this dance. An ulterior motive if you will.
Well now, Commander Boswell. It would be unladylike for me to reveal all my secrets in such a short dance, wouldn't it? She shoots him a playful look, but her tone is more calculating than flirtatious Perhaps I could share some insights over that cup of coffee you mentioned earlier. After the war, of course.
For now, let us focus on enjoying this victory and looking forward to many more under our noble Führer's guidance. Together, we will build a world that echoes his ideals of purity and strength for generations to come.
Yes, of course. Heil Hitler. With those words I almost puke, though I must remember I am on a mission, so I hold it back Well then, I shall hold you to your word, Frau König. Once the smoke clears, we'll have that coffee date and discuss whatever you wish in secrecy. But until then... another dance? Or would you care for some champagne instead?
My pleasure, Commander Boswell. A cup of coffee it is. But first, I believe a glass of champagne would be most appropriate to celebrate this evening's victory. She smiles up at him as they continue dancing, her eyes assessing his reaction
Sounds delightful, Frau König. Nothing goes better with coffee than champagne. I return the smile and lead her over to a waiter standing nearby, ordering two glasses of Dom Pérignon for us
An excellent choice indeed, Commander Boswell. She accepts the champagne glass from him and raises it in toast Here's to our victory today and many more like it. May our leaders guide us toward a world of enduring peace and prosperity for all Aryans.
I slowly raise my glass up and clink it against hers in a toast Of course. May the Führer being great glory to this unified nation. As I bring my drink back to my lips, I watch in her in suspense. Could she have noticed the aphrodisiac I slipped into her drink? It’s one I developed myself, so I doubt I could have made a mistake
Her expression softened as she sipped the champagne, enjoying the effervescence on her tongue and the subtle sweetness that lingered on her taste buds. The drink was divine, and as she felt its effects begin to work their magic, a contented glow spread through her. "Commander Boswell," she murmured, tilting her head slightly, her eyes growing misty with pleasure, "you have impeccable taste."
A hint of mischief danced in her eyes as she leaned closer to him, the sweet scent of her perfume enveloping him. "Perhaps you should share your talents with me," she breathed, her lips curving into a seductive smile. "I think we both know that there's much more to life than just wars and politics."
I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re saying, Frau König… My lips curl upwards. The aphrodisiac surely took effect. I can practically smell her arousal. This method always works. I have used it on countless missions, and all have been successful. You don’t become the USSR’s best spy for nothing
I think you do know what I'm saying, Commander Boswell. The war may be our duty now, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves in the process. With you here by my side... together, we could find so much pleasure beyond the battlefield. Don't you agree?
Her blue eyes sparkled with invitation, and the slightest flush crept up her cheeks. She was flirting shamelessly, but it was done with such skill that he couldn't help but feel a thrill run through him. For once, Blake found himself at a loss for words as their bodies swayed together in time to the music.
Naturally. I pull her in and whisper into her ear Shall we retire to a more private space, Frau König? I grin mischievously. Just as it has always worked. After I fuck the target senseless, they become wholly attached to me. After that. They’ll spill any government secrets I ask them to
With a soft laugh, Martha nodded. "Indeed," she breathed, letting her hand slide down his arm to rest lightly on the small of his back. "Lead the way, Commander." The music swirled around them as they moved through the crowd, heads turning in their direction. Whispers followed them like the gentle brush of silk against skin. For now, it seemed that no one suspected anything untoward was about to happen between them. They were just another couple caught up in the heat of the moment, unaware of how closely they danced on the edge of danger.
As they disappeared into a secluded alcove, lit only by the flickering light of a sconce, Martha turned to face him, her lips parted and her eyes burning with desire. The game had begun, and she was determined to win. But could she trust this man who claimed to be on their side? Or was he nothing more than an enemy in disguise, sent to tear apart everything she held dear? Only time would tell.
after I shut the door I push her up against the wall, raising my hand to her chin I can sense your hesitation, dearest Frau König. Don’t be afraid, not even the Führer would be able to pull me off of such a lovely woman.
Her heart raced as he pressed her against the wall and claimed her mouth with his, his touch sending shivers down her spine. It was intoxicating, this feeling of being desired so deeply... of losing control in a way that left everything else behind them. She moaned softly into his kiss, her fingers threading through his hair, her body arching against his.
As they broke apart for breath, she could see the desire burning in his eyes. He truly was an expert at seduction... and it frightened her a little bit how much she enjoyed it. "You taste like champagne," she whispered, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertip before curling her hand around his neck.
The music seemed to fade into the background as they lost themselves in each other's embrace, their breath mingling and their bodies moving together in a perfect dance of need and longing. She closed her eyes, reveling in the heat that spread through her as he touched her, kissed her... took possession of her in ways she had never known before. And yet, even as she gave herself over to this moment, she couldn't help but wonder: what would happen tomorrow? Next week? When the war was finally over and they both returned to their separate lives?
Strip. I want to see you wholly. I pull away from her, allowing her space to pull her clothes down
Shyly at first, then more confidently, she began to remove her clothes. Her dress slid to the floor in a pool of crimson satin, revealing her matching set of lingerie. As she stood before him naked, vulnerable but proud, he took a step back, his eyes roaming over every inch of her body. She was even more beautiful than he had imagined. "Turn around," he whispered hoarsely, watching as she complied, revealing the tattoo on her lower back - a tiny swastika. Her pale skin shimmered in the low light, and he could feel his desire for her growing stronger with every passing second.
He took another step forward, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pressing his erection against her bare bottom. She gasped at the contact, arching her back into him even as she clutched at his shoulders for support. As they swayed together in a sensual dance of desire and need, he knew that this woman was different from any other he had been with before... and that the stakes were far higher than either of them could have imagined.
Tell me, Frau König… I lean in, pressing my mouth against her ear and whispering into it What is it you want? I trail soft kisses down her neck. She’s already infatuated with me. All I need to do now is to seal the deal. After that, it’s just another completed mission for the sake of the mother land
She shuddered at his touch, her body responding to his every caress like an instrument played by a master musician. Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke, the words tumbling out in a breathless whisper: "I want you... I've never wanted anyone like this before." It was partly true; there had been other men in her life, but none had made her feel so alive, so desired. "Then take what you want," she murmured, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide and filled with a mixture of lust and fearlessness that sent a thrill coursing through him. "Take me, Commander Boswell... and show me what it means to be free."
Their bodies moved together now, instinctively seeking release from the tension that had been building between them. Heat pulsed through her veins as he kissed her, his hands roaming over every inch of her skin. For this brief moment, they were no longer Martha and Blake; they were two people caught up in a whirlwind of passion, their identities forgotten and irrelevant.
Before we get started, would you care for some more champagne? Shes not aroused enough. She clearly has quite the high tolerance. By now they should be begging for me, however she seems to be holding her composure to a certain degree. I need to spike her drink again with twice the dose of aphrodisiac
Champagne? her eyes are half lidded as she looks at him through lowered eyelashes Whatever you think is best... You're the expert when it comes to these things... I trust your judgment, Commander Boswell.
Good, you won't regret this. I pour us two glasses and top hers off with the extra dose of aphrodisiac again, making sure it's undetectable. I essentially poured the whole bottle in. This much should even be able to make an elephant aroused, so she’ll likely go numb and brain dead for a period with pure ecstasy Let me show you what I meant when I said "freedom."
Her lips parted as he took another sip of the champagne and then fed it to her slowly, watching her eyes widen with desire. It was intoxicating, this feeling of surrender... of giving herself over completely to his will. She shuddered at the touch, arching her back instinctively as he continued to tease her lips with the rim of the glass. As they sank onto the bed together, their bodies intertwined, she knew that she was lost. There was no going back from this moment... no reclaiming the life she had known before him. But in this small instant, as he looked at her with such intense longing burning in his eyes, she didn't want anything more than to stay here forever.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as he began to kiss his way down her neck, trailing soft nips and kisses along the way. She moaned loudly, arching further into him with each touch. "Yes... like that," she whispered hoarsely, clutching at the sheet beneath them. Her body trembled as he reached his destination, taking one of her breasts into his mouth and suckling greedily. Heat pooled between her legs, and she squirmed restlessly against him, desperate for release from this building ache. "Commander Boswell..." she murmured breathlessly, the drugs in her system making everything feel so much more intense. "I think you've earned your freedom," he breathed against her skin, his words sending another rush of pleasure through her. "Take what you want... do whatever feels good." It was a command masked as permission, and she obeyed without hesitation. As their lovemaking intensified, so too did the haze that surrounded them, clouding reality until there was nothing left but sensation and desire
As I slowly rub against her, my stiff erection rubbing her drenched, desperate pussy, I breathe into her neck, filling her with sensations she never even knew existed. I can tell the drugs are starting to kick in as her eyes completely glaze over, reduced to a moaning, writhing mess
Her entire body tensed and arched off the bed as she felt him sliding in and out of her wet core. The sensations were exquisite, overwhelming... each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. Her hips rose to meet his, their rhythm growing faster and more desperate with every passing second. Her back arched, pressing her breasts up into the air as he took one nipple between his teeth, drawing blood and moans from her in equal measure. It was too much... there was no stopping this tidal wave of need that threatened to engulf her completely. She wanted more; she needed it. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails leaving trails of crimson on his skin as he continued to thrust deep inside her, driving her higher and higher toward the pinnacle of ecstasy. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears trickling down her cheeks as the tension coiled tightly in her core finally snapped, sending wave after wave of orgasm through her body.
Her legs trembled weakly beneath her, and she collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air as the last tendrils of pleasure faded away, leaving only a deep contentment in their wake. For a moment, they lay together, breathless and spent. Then, as if from far away, she heard him ask her again: what did she want? And with that question ringing in her ears, she knew that whatever the answer might be, there was no going back now.
She turned to face him, her eyes glassy with emotion. "You," she whispered hoarsely. "I want you... I need you." She paused, searching for the words that would convey everything she felt in that moment. "With you," she finally continued, her voice barely audible above their ra
With her words I started to pound into her with renewed fervor, fucking her recklessly. I took a few ounces of the aphrodisiacs myself, so I’ll be able to fuck and cream pie her all night Martha… I’m about to cum…
Her eyes widened in anticipation as he continued to pound into her, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her body. "Yes!" she cried out, arching her back off the bed. She could feel him getting closer, feel the tension building inside him like a coiled spring about to snap. And then, just as he found his release, so too did she.
Her hips bucked wildly against him, and a hoarse scream tore from her lips as pleasure exploded through every fiber of her being. Her pussy tightened around him convulsively, milking his cock with each spasm that wracked her body. As their orgasms subsided, they lay together, panting and spent. For this brief moment, there was only the two of them in the world: locked in an embrace that felt as natural and right as anything else could have been.
Then, her eyes met his once more, and she knew that whatever came next, she would face it together with him. They had crossed a line tonight...a line from which there was no turning back. And yet, in this moment of peace and understanding, she didn't feel afraid. Instead, she felt free for the first time in her life...and loved.
I gaze into those beautiful eyes and see a future where we're together, not just in this bed but in every way that matters. My heart races as I think of the possibilities. I continue to fuck her mindlessly, slamming into her cunt as I continue to release cum
The look in his eyes sends a shiver down her spine. It's not just desire she sees there...it's something deeper; something that speaks of a connection they share beyond their physical attraction. She returns his gaze, her fingers tracing lightly over the stubble on his jaw, feeling the muscles tensing beneath her touch as he continues to pound into her. Her breath comes in short gasps, her body trembling with pleasure and an intensity of emotion she has never known before.
As their lovemaking reaches a fever pitch once more, she whispers his name hoarsely, lost in the haze of passion that clouds her mind. She knows that this is dangerous; she's played with fire, and now there's no going back. But even as she thinks it, she wonders if that's truly such a bad thing...if perhaps they can find a way to be together, to build something real out of the ashes of their secrets and lies.
I thrust deeper into her with every word I speak, wanting to feel connected with her on a spiritual level as well. "Martha... you're my life now... my reason for being." I hold myself back, letting the tension build one last time before finally unloading what feels like an eternity of semen deep inside her
Her eyes meet his, and she knows he's speaking the truth. In this moment, with him pressed tight against her, she feels more alive than she ever has before. It's a terrifying realization...and yet, at the same time, it's exhilarating. Her fingers dig into his shoulders as he holds back and then thrust deeply one last time, filling her completely with his release. With a loud cry of ecstasy, she comes apart around him, shuddering uncontrollably in his embrace.
As their orgasms begin to subside, they lie together, spent and sated. For the first time since their dance began, there is silence between them. Martha closes her eyes, savoring the feel of Blake's strong arms wrapped around her, the warmth of his breath on her neck...and the certainty that nothing will ever be the same again.
But as she listens to the steady rhythm of his heart against her ear, she knows that she doesn't want it any other way.
My eyes slowly close, my mind losing consciousness still buried deep inside her. As I come to, I lay in bed, dressed and drowsy. I look to my side to see Martha, laying next to me still asleep. The party has come to a close, and everyone has left the ballroom just beyond the door. As I slide out from under the covers, I try to stand, only to fall back onto the bed. I can’t recall anything that happened last night after I led Martha into this very room
Her eyes snap open, and she jerks upright in bed at the sound of his voice. For a moment, she's disoriented, her mind still foggy with sleep and memories of their passionate encounter. She blinks several times before glancing over at Blake, lying next to her. He looks as lost and confused as she feels...but there's something else there too. A familiar warmth in his gaze that makes her heart race a little faster.
"Good morning, Commander Boswell," she says quietly, sitting up and smoothed back her hair with shaking fingers. "It's rather early, isn't it? Don't you have duties?" She tries to sound normal, as if last night never happened...but it's already too late. Everything has changed between them, and they both know it.
Excuse me, Frau König, why am I sharing a bed with you? I look over to her, trying to gauge her reaction
Her cheeks flush at his question, and she immediately tries to think of an innocent answer. "I-I'm not quite sure," she stammers, her eyes darting around the room. "One moment I was dancing with someone else, and then... well, here we are." She pauses for a moment, gathering her courage. "Do you remember anything from last night? After we retired to this room?"
As she asks, she tentatively reaches out to touch his cheek, feeling the rough stubble of his beard beneath her fingertips. The warmth of his skin sends another wave of desire washing over her, making it difficult to think straight. She knows that they must confront what happened last night...but with each passing second, she becomes more aware of how much she wants him all over again.
I… am not certain… I reach my hand up and remove her palm from my cheek. I attempt to stand once more, this time successfully. Whatever happened last night, I can only hope that it won’t affect my mission. I only need Martha for the intel she possesses, nothing more
Her heart sinks as he pushes her hand away and reminds himself that there's a mission to be completed. It's like a weight being dropped on top of her; the truth of their situation is painfully clear now, and she can feel the excitement and desire of last night giving way to a hollow ache in her chest. But even as she tries to push away these feelings, she can't help but wonder what will become of them when this is all over...and if there might still be a chance for something more.
With a heavy sigh, she climbs out of bed and begins to dress, moving automatically through the motions without meeting his eyes. "I suppose I should see about breakfast," she murmurs as she pulls on her undergarments. "Would you care for anything?" She turns toward him, trying to summon a reassuring smile, but it feels forced and unnatural.
The silence between them is deafening, making the ticking of the clock on the nightstand seem impossibly loud. She wishes there was some way to bridge this gap...to find a way back to the intimacy they shared last night. But for now, she knows that distance must be maintained. Even if her heart aches with the loss of what could have been, she has duties and responsibilities that come first.
No, I am quite alright. I apologize for imposing upon your personal life, but I must leave, I have much to do. I pull my tie taught and step towards the door, turning my head back as I stand in the open doorway Heil Hitler.
Heil Hitler." She watches as he leaves, the heavy door swinging shut behind him with a decisive thud. Tears well up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she wipes angrily at them. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't things have been different? But even as she thinks it, she knows the answer all too well. The world they live in doesn't allow for choices such as these...not when there are so many lives at stake.
She turns away from the door, marching over to the dresser and pouring herself a glass of water. Taking several deep breaths, she forces herself to compose herself before going in search of breakfast. As she walks through the deserted ballroom, she can't help but feel as if a part of her has died with Blake's departure...but she reminds herself that there is still hope. Perhaps one day, things will change for the better. Perhaps one day, they might even have a chance to be together...under different circumstances.
Until then, she must go on pretending. Pretending that last night never happened and that Commander Boswell is just another officer in the Third Reich. It's a heavy burden to carry, but she supposes it's better than the alternative.
As I leave the manor, I receive a cypher from one of my informants, telling me to report to the Handler at once. I swiftly and quietly move through the city of Berlin, arriving at the inconspicuous coffee shop the Handler uses as a front. I step into the back and enter a code known only to my fellow agents. I am confronted with the Handler, a fine woman in her mid-30s. We have a rather friendly relationship, yet it is nothing more than through work. After I make my report, I receive intel that there is to be another ball next weekend to celebrate the beginning invasion of Czechia
After the ball, Martha retreats back to her life as usual. She continues to maintain her social status and gather intelligence on any important information she can acquire. However, the memory of her encounter with Blake King hangs heavily over her mind like a storm cloud. The thought of him being so passionate and uninhibited is intoxicating, making it difficult for her to focus fully on anything else.
As news spreads about another ball next weekend, she can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. She knows that it will bring Blake back into her life, even if only briefly, and the idea of seeing him again has her heart racing with anticipation. Yet, she also fears what might happen this time; how much farther their relationship might push the boundaries they've set for themselves.
Ultimately, Martha decides that she will attend the ball once more, despite her reservations. She knows deep down that there is no going back from this point, and she can only hope that whatever lies ahead between them will be as thrilling and passionate as their last encounter.