Notes: First story ever! This is a tribute story for Bambie Brainwasher, a talented hypnodomme who can be found online. Hope she likes it, and I hope you all do too! Comments are encouraged.
Bambie in Berlin by RadRocky
October 1989 Berlin, Germany 11:17pm
It was a contentious time for the world, as the Cold War neared its end. The West and the East continued to contest each other's bid for global dominance through the use of indirect conflicts. Attempts to weaken and destabilize the other through proxy wars, propaganda campaigns, technological competition, and most intriguing of all, the use of espionage and spies. Secret agents, specially trained to acquire, convert, and subvert at their discretion to advance the position of their own side.
One such agent, known by the code name Cardinal, walked the dimly-lit back streets of Berlin on his way to a meeting with an anonymous informant. As an embedded CIA operative, his mission was to obtain any intelligence on the operations of the KGB and, if possible, disrupt them. After months of careful observations, insinuations, and manipulations, Cardinal found a potential leak to exploit. A young clerk, working in a local office, with access to privileged information and a susceptibility to bribes. It was a match made in spy heaven.
As Cardinal passed a storefront, its doors closed and lights off, he caught sight of his own reflection off the glass of the display window. His dark hair, lightly weathered skin, and stubbled chin were shrouded by the upturned label of his long grey wool coat. Fortunately, the weather was starting to turn cold enough to justify the use of the coat, as it would look out of place in warmer weather. The coat comes in handy for concealment, though with the venue he was headed to, concealment was the furthest thing from his mind.
Bambie Wald, a lively gentleman's club, was the chosen rendezvous point for Cardinal to meet his new informant. The logic was sound: It's public, yet private at the same time. In contrast to the rest of the businesses on the block, the club's exterior was elegant and well-maintained, illustrating its popularity and prosperity nicely. It was clearly the place to be, as the lineup outside emphasized. Not wanting to miss his appointment, Cardinal employed his usual method of infiltration to gain access: He slipped the Bouncer some cash.
Checking his coat but retaining his concealed pistol and envelope of cash, Cardinal walked the corridor connecting the entrance to the proper club floor. His German needed work, but the establishment's name translated loosely to "Bambie's Woods". The décor alluded to this, lots of carved wood surfaces and floral/arboreal facades, giving the impression of a forest...if forests had stripper poles. Warm lighting bathed the room in spring/summer colors, contrasting the cold gray streets outside. Even some of the staff were thematically dressed in tasteful fur vests and shorts, complete with faux deer ears. It was cute, even if the subject matter was decidedly less Disney-friendly.
While the main stage held the attention of most of the audience, where an exceptionally flexible, lithe woman was contorting herself around the pole to the beat of the house music amid a gentle rain of paper bills from the closest patrons, various other performers were entertaining their own customers at their tables and booths. Speaking of patrons, Cardinal was momentarily startled to see many of them were police and KGB officers known to him, several of whom were still in uniform! If this is a trap, it's not subtle, he thought to himself. But then, what better place to hide?
Cardinal's instructions were simple. Rent a private viewing room and ask for Bambie. Once inside, he would meet his contact and make the exchange, hopefully with the promise of further exchanges and an ongoing arrangement. When he approached the VIP area and placed his request, the attendant smirked and looked him up and down. "What, do I have something on my face?" Cardinal asked playfully.
"Not yet, boy...Go on in, Door 6." she said, picking up a phone and calling ahead.
The doors to each VIP booth were opaque glass, allowing one to see a vague outline of the occupants, dark shadows under dim green neon light. One arched their back and appeared to moan, but no sound escaped the booth, a testament to the soundproofing of each unit. Cardinal knew the reputation of Eastern gentleman's clubs, but hadn't ever explored them for himself, as work took precedence. This was a rare treat, since it would only be logical to remain in the club for an hour or two after the meeting, to throw off any suspicion if anyone was watching.
Door 6 opened to another VIP room, but this one was completely dark. The light creeping in from the hallway was the only illumination available, enough for Cardinal to make out what was inside. Green floral wallpaper, tall fern plants set around the room, and a plush black leather couch set against one wall of the small room, facing a performance area with a single brass pole running floor to ceiling. So far, so normal. What wasn't normal was the body seated on the couch, slumped to one side, breathing slowly and undressed from the waist down. The scent of fresh semen hit Cardinal's nose and he grimaced, nearly stepping right back out of the room. He almost assumed he had the wrong room, but then he recognized the man on the couch as his informant.
"Okay..." Cardinal sighed, shutting the door behind him and slowly approaching. "You started the party without me. I'm hurt, but I'll get over it. Can you zip up and towel off so we can get to business?"
The man on the couch made a noise that one could call a soft moan, but hardly moved. Cardinal's intelligence on the clerk didn't indicate anywhere near this level of sex addiction or substance abuse, so alarm bells were starting to ring. He reached out, grabbed the man's arm, checked his pulse. It was low, but steady. A drink set on a side table was empty. Was he poisoned? Did someone else get to him first? Cardinal went to check the man's eyes, but in such darkness that would be a challenge, so he started to look around for a light switch when the room suddenly burst into dim green neon light. Cardinal's surprise continued when he realized they were not alone in the room.
"Welcome to the show, baby! You're just in time for the second act!"
The woman...wow, what a woman...stood in the far corner, previously concealed in shadows and now confidently strolling over, her thick hips sensually swaying to the music that had started to play, a smooth R&B tune with a slow, throbbing beat. She was tall, dirty-blonde, and curved in ways that defied gravity. Her shoulder-length hair rolled down past her soft creamy skin and cherubic features to a pair of breasts that bounced with each step and seemed to be aimed directly at him. Her red bikini, which was barely adequate to hold back mountains of supple flesh or conceal her womanhood, did little to hide the outline of her erect nipples. Cardinal's eyes would have continued down past her toned stomach and hearty hips to her thick thighs, but somehow he found himself unable to lower his gaze any further.
"What a treat for you! A first-timer comes in and they get a private performance with Bambie herself! You should be honored." Bambie said with a smile, strolling up to Cardinal and invading his personal space, brushing a hand across his chest as she walked by.
"Oh, you're the Bambie?" Cardinal asked, still coming to terms with the new situation he'd found himself in. "I thought that was just the name on the sign. This is your forest, then?"
Bambie gently walked to the door, her hips shaking enough to give Cardinal something to stare at once her boobs were out of sight. "Yes indeed, a lovely grove for travelers to explore, play in...and get lost in..."
