This story contains violence and cheating - if those aren't your thing, please pass.
All participants in sexual acts are 18 or older.
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I, known as Mila Chekov, never knew parents - not just biological parents, but parents in general. My mother must have been tall, blond, and slinky, because I became that as an adult. One or both of my mother and father must have been athletic, because I am. As far as intelligence is concerned I wonder if mine is learned or innate - I'll never find out.
The state orphanage that I was told I arrived at when I was about one year old was fine while I was there - only because I didn't know any better. When I was eight years old apparently either my scores on tests, the fact that I had the best time at the obstacle course of anyone ten or under (boy or girl), and/or the fact that I kicked the shit out of a ten year old boy bully, got me noticed.
I didn't like the looks of the hard woman and man who one day about a month after my state-assigned birthday of May 1 picked me up out of the orphanage, told me to pack my few possessions (only a small knapsack full), and drove me in a black GAZ-31013 to somewhere on the outskirts of Moscow. I rode in silence away from the orphanage to my new home.
Physically my new home, a "shkola shpionov" (rough translation "spy school") was a lot nicer than the state orphanage, but more was expected of me too. I had to learn all sorts of subjects that I saw no immediate use for including lip reading, lock picking, handgun firing, techniques for memorizing long lists of numbers or facts, Communist ideology, snow skiing, American government and culture, electronics, and most importantly English, French and German. Starting at fifteen years old and intensifying every year thereafter I also was taught how to skillfully and evasively operate a number of different vehicles including cars, trucks, motorcycles, and small aircraft, and was schooled in "knife fighting" and explosives. Starting at seventeen I was taught what was called "zhenskaya seksual'naya psikhologiya" which roughly translates into English as "female seduction techniques." The days were long, the rewards few,
One of the few rewards, once my hormones started acting up, was testing my seduction techniques on my male schoolmates. Some I simply teased unmercifully - which I was able to get away with because I was the top student in the knife fighting class and was known to carry a Finka NKVD knife strapped to my left thigh under my skirt. Others I fucked, only to practice technique and get a cheap thrill, not because there was any romance involved.
I was told by the powers-that-be that I was a "golden girl" and that they had big plans for me.
Although I was always kept in the dark about details, I was led to believe that my "graduation" was coming soon. At that time I was nineteen and one-half years old, assuming that my state-assigned birthday was correct. I was told to meet the KGB Colonel in charge of our school one Saturday evening to get my first assignment. Leonid Ivanov was a big, strong, nasty man, whose reputation was as a Lothario. I was told that no weapons were allowed in Comrade Ivanov's residence so I had to surrender my NKVD.
The meeting started out friendly enough, although Ivanov seemed to be perturbed by my refusal of his offerings of food and drink - I was just on the edge of insubordination in doing that, but I didn't trust what might be in the vodka or caviar. As he drank more vodka, however, his tone started to change and it culminated with him groping me with the obvious intent to rape me. He was not being gentle or smart; I definitely was not going to put up with it. I pushed hard to the left causing him to brace himself in that direction, which allowed me to quickly spin to my right to reach the only object within my sight that I could effectively use as a weapon. It was a heavy square glass ashtray with four projections at its four corners, and full of cigarette butts.
I was able to just reach the ashtray before his grip hardened on me - he definitely was a big strong man. I was able to hit him in the head with the ahstray twice - not killing blows, but they hurt enough that he let go of me. When he let go I pounded him on the head with a corner of the ashtray at least a dozen times, some so hard that the ashtray even broke, obviously killing him and spraying blood everywhere, and bruising my hand.
I knew that the shit would hit the fan. I showered in his bathroom and washed out or covered up the blood on my clothes the best that I could. Then I crept back to my quarters, gathered up a few of my clothes and other things that I needed - including my NKVD - and took off.
It took the KGB more than two weeks to find me. When cornered by three agents with guns drawn I was surprised by their reaction. "We're not here to arrest you Mila," the female agent said. "We're here to bring you back to the school and give you your first assignment. Your dispatch of Comrade Ivanov has been determined by Moscow to be justified even though it was a test gone bad and not a rape attempt - you couldn't know that."
Of course I didn't believe them that it was a "test gone bad;" KGB agents were notorious liars. To put it in modern terms they were as truthful as Xi, Trump, Putin or Duterte - in other words if their lips were moving they were lying. However, for whatever reason - maybe someone with influence was just happy to get rid of Ivanov and was impressed not only by my ability to kill someone outweighing me by fifty kilos but also to avoid capture for sixteen days - no one was concerned by what I had done.
I was treated like a hero by most students, and some teachers, at the school; apparently Ivanov wasn't well liked.
When I passed my colloquial English proficiency test at twenty years old I was then actually given my first assignment - in America.
My American name was Nancy Faber from McCall, Idaho, a town of about 3,000 people 100 miles north of Boise that was known for winter sports. I had a long fake biography which operatives much more skillful than I am planted in schools, municipal records, and anyplace else that could be hacked. I memorized my 105 page resumé that also included photos of my fake family home and elementary school, and my now dead fake parents. I was tested on my background both orally and in writing. Once I had essentially assumed the identity of the fake Nancy Faber, I went to New York, and then the Washington, D. C. area, using my counterfeit American passport.
When I got to the Northern Virginia suburbs of Washington, D. C. I met my handler, American name Jeff Wilson, real name Boris Rabinov. Wilson was a good-looking man only about six or seven years older than I am, young for a handler. He started my indoctrination to Northern Virginia life and gave me the details of my assignment. I lived with him for three months while going through an indoctrination period, and of course we fucked. He was unhappy that I always made him use a condom, but he was aware of my history and didn't want to mess with me. He was a decent fuck, and had one advantage over most Russian men - he liked eating pussy. That alone would have gotten him laid by me as often as he liked.
While Wilson encouraged me to give up my thigh-strapped knife (I had traded the Russian NKVD for an American Ontario MK 3 knife) I refused, although I could never wear it when going through a metal detector.
