horatiojones80
Content Creator
- Joined
- Jun 22, 2011
Here's just a story of some ideas I've had floating around in my head.
Anya Solokovich's mission was to steal an SD card from a diplomats hotel room and bug the hotel room. It was supposed to be a clean mission, she was to alert no one of her presence. While bugging the room she noticed the SD Card missing from the table she (stupidly) put it on. This concerned her. She reached for her gun only to realize she did not bring it as it would be more of a risk to get caught with it then to actually need it (at least she calculated) . "Fuck" she whispered in Russian. All of the sudden the closet doors burst open and two arms were wrapped around her throat, a woman had snuck up on her and attacked her. "Why don't you die bitch!" the woman yelled in an accent Anya couldn't pinpoint. Anya kicked the woman's shins, headbutted her in the nose with the back of her head and elbowed her in the crotch. She tacked the woman to the gorund and put her in a chokehold. The woman struggled for a few minutes, but her movements became less pronounced. Anya held onto her throat with a death grip out of anger until the woman was dead weight on top of her. Anya checked her pulse and realized she was dead. This was Anya's first kill. She didn't think much of it. The whole situation was a mere nuisance. The dead woman looked to be about 30-40 years of age, jet black hair in a tight pony tail and pale skin. She was wearing athletic gear, tight gray yoga pants, which looked too small for her, and a pink sports bra. She had no shoes on. She was a little out of shape, not fat, not even chubby, but a bit pudgy, and voluptuous as well. She could have been a trophy wife or a prostitute, but a field agent? Anya shook her head. *prrrrrrpp*, the woman let out a fart. "Nasty fucking bitch" Anya mumbled.
Anya needed to search her for that damned SD Card, and any clues of her whereabouts. Anya struggled to roll her over, but put her face down. Anya began patting her waistband noticed something stiff on her backside. She yanked down her tight yoga pants and revealed two shapely white buttcheaks, between which was a purple lingerie thong. Anya spotted the SD card in her G string and quickly removed it. She gave both cheeks a slap and watched them jiggle for 10 seconds. Realizing she was getting distracted, she pulled up the woman's leggings, which firmly hugged her shapely behind. Grabbing her limp hand she rolled her over again and began frisking her. First behind the ears, then she looked inside the woman's mouth, smearing her lipstick in the process. She pulled down her wasteband again, letting her stomach fat spill over, and swept the underside of her belly with her finger. Nothing. All of the sudden noises could be heard at the door. Anya could not allow the diplomat to discover her presence. She had to think fast. She hoisted the woman up by her armpits and dragged her back into the closet, closing the door behind her. The limp woman rested on Anya's knee, her head falling backward. Anya grabbed the woman's exposed midriff to stabilize her. The men were still talking. Fucking idiots, move on already. *BRRRRRPPPFF*, the woman let out another fart, this time louder. Anya froze in terror. The diplomat made a sniffing noise, but was too embarassed to acknowledge it. The diplomat left to go play cricket. Anya opened the closet door and let the woman fall to the ground without even catching her. She looked in the closet with her flashlight. She found the woman's purse, her phone and a half eaten bag of celery and a protein bar. "This explains the flatulence, what kind of assassin eats on the job?
Anya had to determine her identity. Who would have sent her here. She opened the wallet and almost immediatly discarded the ID card. It was an alias no doubt. Using the dead woman's hand she placed it on the phone's unlock button. To her surprise the phone unlocked. This is when she knew she was dealing with an amateur. she changed the password and pocketed it. In the purse she also found a chrome Beretta Jetfire. No threading on the barrel meant it could not take a silencer. This was an amateur no doubt. She pocketed the pistol too. Never bad to have a drop gun. Anya grabbed her phone and started slowly rolling the woman's finger prints in her agency app. While doing so she noticed a nice ring on her finger. "I'll go ahead and take that" Anya whispered. Anya grabbed a bottle of hand cream and slowly worked it up the womans pudgy fingers. The ring came off and her hand went limp again. The app came back with an almost immediate match. Nina Moldovnic, a bookeeper for a Romanian arms dealing syndacite. Arrested multiple times for grand theft, rackateering and money laundering. Someone had sent a desk jockey to assassinate Anya. She felt insulted. She needed to dump the body. She coudln't have her stinking up the closet any more. Hoisting up Nina's limp body with her toned arms, Anya dragged her out of the room, sitting her down on a foostop, her breasts pressed against hers: "stay put" she exclaimed, patting her on the cheek. Anya checked the hallway to make sure the coast was clear and saw a laundry cart: perfect. Anya hoisted Nina's body up again, and reached under her crotch, feeling her public hairs and thick inner thigh. She lifted Nina over her should fireman's style. Nina's belly fat formed a cushion on the top of her neck. Anya grabbed her limp hand and began ambling over to the cart grunting. "she's a heavy girl" she exclaimed, before dumping her in the cart, arranging the white linens to conceal her pale limp face. Anya walked away, the smell of cheap perfume, lipstick and other body odors still on her nose. She was anxious to take a shower and wash off the stench of that woman.
Anya Solokovich's mission was to steal an SD card from a diplomats hotel room and bug the hotel room. It was supposed to be a clean mission, she was to alert no one of her presence. While bugging the room she noticed the SD Card missing from the table she (stupidly) put it on. This concerned her. She reached for her gun only to realize she did not bring it as it would be more of a risk to get caught with it then to actually need it (at least she calculated) . "Fuck" she whispered in Russian. All of the sudden the closet doors burst open and two arms were wrapped around her throat, a woman had snuck up on her and attacked her. "Why don't you die bitch!" the woman yelled in an accent Anya couldn't pinpoint. Anya kicked the woman's shins, headbutted her in the nose with the back of her head and elbowed her in the crotch. She tacked the woman to the gorund and put her in a chokehold. The woman struggled for a few minutes, but her movements became less pronounced. Anya held onto her throat with a death grip out of anger until the woman was dead weight on top of her. Anya checked her pulse and realized she was dead. This was Anya's first kill. She didn't think much of it. The whole situation was a mere nuisance. The dead woman looked to be about 30-40 years of age, jet black hair in a tight pony tail and pale skin. She was wearing athletic gear, tight gray yoga pants, which looked too small for her, and a pink sports bra. She had no shoes on. She was a little out of shape, not fat, not even chubby, but a bit pudgy, and voluptuous as well. She could have been a trophy wife or a prostitute, but a field agent? Anya shook her head. *prrrrrrpp*, the woman let out a fart. "Nasty fucking bitch" Anya mumbled.
Anya needed to search her for that damned SD Card, and any clues of her whereabouts. Anya struggled to roll her over, but put her face down. Anya began patting her waistband noticed something stiff on her backside. She yanked down her tight yoga pants and revealed two shapely white buttcheaks, between which was a purple lingerie thong. Anya spotted the SD card in her G string and quickly removed it. She gave both cheeks a slap and watched them jiggle for 10 seconds. Realizing she was getting distracted, she pulled up the woman's leggings, which firmly hugged her shapely behind. Grabbing her limp hand she rolled her over again and began frisking her. First behind the ears, then she looked inside the woman's mouth, smearing her lipstick in the process. She pulled down her wasteband again, letting her stomach fat spill over, and swept the underside of her belly with her finger. Nothing. All of the sudden noises could be heard at the door. Anya could not allow the diplomat to discover her presence. She had to think fast. She hoisted the woman up by her armpits and dragged her back into the closet, closing the door behind her. The limp woman rested on Anya's knee, her head falling backward. Anya grabbed the woman's exposed midriff to stabilize her. The men were still talking. Fucking idiots, move on already. *BRRRRRPPPFF*, the woman let out another fart, this time louder. Anya froze in terror. The diplomat made a sniffing noise, but was too embarassed to acknowledge it. The diplomat left to go play cricket. Anya opened the closet door and let the woman fall to the ground without even catching her. She looked in the closet with her flashlight. She found the woman's purse, her phone and a half eaten bag of celery and a protein bar. "This explains the flatulence, what kind of assassin eats on the job?
Anya had to determine her identity. Who would have sent her here. She opened the wallet and almost immediatly discarded the ID card. It was an alias no doubt. Using the dead woman's hand she placed it on the phone's unlock button. To her surprise the phone unlocked. This is when she knew she was dealing with an amateur. she changed the password and pocketed it. In the purse she also found a chrome Beretta Jetfire. No threading on the barrel meant it could not take a silencer. This was an amateur no doubt. She pocketed the pistol too. Never bad to have a drop gun. Anya grabbed her phone and started slowly rolling the woman's finger prints in her agency app. While doing so she noticed a nice ring on her finger. "I'll go ahead and take that" Anya whispered. Anya grabbed a bottle of hand cream and slowly worked it up the womans pudgy fingers. The ring came off and her hand went limp again. The app came back with an almost immediate match. Nina Moldovnic, a bookeeper for a Romanian arms dealing syndacite. Arrested multiple times for grand theft, rackateering and money laundering. Someone had sent a desk jockey to assassinate Anya. She felt insulted. She needed to dump the body. She coudln't have her stinking up the closet any more. Hoisting up Nina's limp body with her toned arms, Anya dragged her out of the room, sitting her down on a foostop, her breasts pressed against hers: "stay put" she exclaimed, patting her on the cheek. Anya checked the hallway to make sure the coast was clear and saw a laundry cart: perfect. Anya hoisted Nina's body up again, and reached under her crotch, feeling her public hairs and thick inner thigh. She lifted Nina over her should fireman's style. Nina's belly fat formed a cushion on the top of her neck. Anya grabbed her limp hand and began ambling over to the cart grunting. "she's a heavy girl" she exclaimed, before dumping her in the cart, arranging the white linens to conceal her pale limp face. Anya walked away, the smell of cheap perfume, lipstick and other body odors still on her nose. She was anxious to take a shower and wash off the stench of that woman.
