Wednesday round up time

 

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Hi Everyone

  Welcome to Wednesday and as ever it is a time for a collection of clips and photos and things, sent to me or spotted by me over the last few weeks.

We start today with someone new to the blog.

xxx

Andy

 

I have to thank our 

friend Skinnie Stallion

for this lovely new addition to our blogs favourites. 

Ruth Lansford is a British Tv Presenter who carries that air of mature superiority very well, especially when slipped into red leather.

 

Now we welcome back a personal favourite, Col Wilma Deering, but wait a moment, that's.........Oh that's the episode where Andy had to disguise himself as the colonel, Darn he fills out that 25th century spandex well.

Here is one of my new favourites the gorgeous Helene Fischer. Now there is no singing in this clip, but I saw a clip of her performing in this tight skirt on tv a while ago, but have not been able to find it to share, however i think this clip makes up for it .

However to see this amazing performer in full flow you need to return to this powerhouse performance clip i shared a while ago.

   

And finally on this video round up Vanessa Blumhagen, social/society expert on German breakfast tv wears some gorgeous cloths, but when she wears leather pants, few can compete.

And when she and Marlene wear boots!!!!!!!

Now now, take a seat and enjoy Chapter 4 of Mistress LeatherBeth's awesome story.

The Spy Who Came into the Pavilion

By Mistress LeatherBeth

Chapter 4

Olga Dmitrovna paused, settled back in her seat, and reviewed the situation.

It was true that she had the absolute trust of the Fifth Directorate. This was only to be expected. She was, after all, its Executive Officer. And the Fifth Directorate had, as a result of its repeated successes on behalf of the Russian State, the complete trust of Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin.

But what was also true was that, to her own certain knowledge, she was totally untrustworthy. I mean, who deserved a billion (or at least a share of a billion) more? Vladimir Vladimirovich, or herself. (Hint. That was a rhetorical question).

In her mind she went back over the circumstances that had brought her to this point; back to the day when they were a pair of twenty year old students, and her girlfriend Tatiana had drawn her attention to an ad in an underground magazine from 5D Productions, which described itself as an up and coming ‘movie’ studio. They had made an appointment, the interview had taken almost five minutes, and by the end of the week they had made their debuts, in a simple fifteen minute production provisionally entitled ‘латекс лесбиянки’. Latex Lesbians.

That title had soon been amended to something like Непослушные девушки, ‘Naughty Girls’, as the company had realised that they could do very well by taking up Latex Lesbians as an entire genre.

For Tatiana, the idea of being paid to be kinky was a dream come true. And while Olga had certainly enjoyed herself, she had soon begun to investigate what went on behind the camera, and in the offices of 5D Productions and within a few months she had made her debut as a Director, of ‘Блестящие возлюбленные’, ‘Shiny Sweethearts.’

That had been the beginning of a fairly meteoric rise for Olga. From performer to Director; from Director to Producer; from Producer to Executive Producer (a position she invented for herself. No one was quite sure just how much power she wielded, and Olga always used the title to imply that it was a lot). She had always been aware that the cliché of the Russian man as being a vodka based lifeform had quite a bit of basis in truth, and Olga had little difficulty in coming out on top in any confrontation or negotiation. Meanwhile, Tatiana had, after a couple of years, returned to University full time to complete her Law degree.

Move on a few more years, to 2016, and 5D Productions had been paid a visit by the FSB. They had made an offer which Olga, by now de facto boss, had welcomed with open arms. Apparently, the honey trap, as a source of blackmail material, was getting distinctly old fashioned. Not only that, but politicians and businessmen (and women) nowadays had so little sense of honour that they were happy to brazen everything out. But a production company with contacts throughout many niche (and not so niche) porn genres? The FSB loved the idea of a link up. And so, 5D Productions became the Fifth Directorate, with Olga acquiring a military rank to go with her longstanding uniform fetish. And one of her first appointments had been to offer the post of Junior Counsel of the Fifth Directorate to the newly qualified Tatiana.

Whilst the Directorate’s initial function had been the provision of ‘services’ to other departments of the FSB, it had soon developed its own talent pool for identifying targets for such services.

Olga and Tatiana were still friends (with benefits), and it was during one of these beneficial sessions a few months ago that Tatiana had said, “Olga Dmitrovna, I feel that I should report to you information which has been brought to my attention, which I believe could be of significant importance to the Directorate.” 

Given that they were both still sweating in their black latex hoods, Olga had deduced that this would be something other than a strictly formal report.

She had adjusted her position and replied, “Tatiana Alexandrovna, I should be most interested to hear everything that you have to tell me.” She had said this, however, just before her lips, tongue and nose began massaging Tatiana’s pussy, and the ‘everything’ which she had heard for the next twenty minutes had been a mixture of moans, groans, growls, squeaks and profanities. 

For the sake of brevity and clarity, Tatiana’s report, delivered over the next two hours or so, can be transcribed roughly as follows.

The Directorate’s Investigations Section (5DIS) had become aware of attempts by an individual named Yevgeny Piotrevich Kropotkin, a low level freelance whom they occasionally used, to discover information regarding ‘certain’ matters (which we won’t bother repeating), with a view to a transfer of ownership. Further investigations had revealed that the intended beneficiary of this transfer, for whom Kropotkin was operating, was the UK based Cooper Amalgamated, whose CEO was already something of a legend within the 5DIS, given both the breadth of his kinks, and his domestic arrangements, which outstripped all but the most bizarre of 5D’s productions (5D still operated as a commercial concern, both as a cover, and as a training ground for those kinksters who would ultimately go on to serve the State).

“Tell me, Tatiana Alexandrovna,” said Olga, forming her hand into a proto fist, “How do you recommend that we deal with Yevgeny Kropotkin and his British ‘master’?”

“Why, Olga Dmitrovna,” Tatiana had replied, “I believe that this could be a situation which we in the Directorate should deal with on our own. The Bureau, and indeed the Kremlin, need not be troubled.”

So both girls smiled in agreement that the Bureau and the Kremlin need know nothing until long after Olga and Tatiana were far, far away and much, much richer. Then Olga’s fist had got to work.

Olga ceased her reverie and turned her attention to the only matters which were still troubling her. What did Agent TB12 know of their plans, how had he acquired the information and, most important, what did he intend to do?

As Olga pondered these problems, Mayfield was strolling through the village, although he was having a little difficulty. He had never been one to wear dark glasses, and with the Ray Bans it was distinctly difficult to see his way clearly. He had only accepted them to please Jane, who had been so concerned for his wellbeing as they had passed the early hours, first in conversation, then dozing in their armchairs.

However, Mayfield’s head felt quite fine, and he was sure that it would feel no after effects from his little tumble the previous evening, no matter how strong the sun might become. No, the part of him which was suffering, the part which was causing the difficulty, was his big toe, the one which Kat had crushed under the heel of her boot. It was still quite painful and was why he was exhibiting a noticeable limp.

Olga checked the mirror. Yevgeny was still unmoving and unconscious on the back seat. His failure to make his threatened descent on The Grange would be a short term mystery, before it was deduced that he was simply unreliable. The pretty Haskins boy would, instead, have briefed Cooper as to the identity of the mysterious Жosimov (Cooper’s domestic security was second to none, but the cell phone encryption he used needed an upgrade); information which would have left the pair of them extremely nervous, which is just how Olga wanted them.

George Cooper and Gary Haskins sat back and looked at each other. For the last ninety minutes they’d had their heads together over their laptops and phones, trying to pick apart the contents of the emails, texts, memos and other documents relating to the Tashkent deal.

Gary would print off an email; thirty seconds later George would scroll to a text which seemed connected, and a note would be made. A name would be added to the Tashkent ‘cast list’, then perhaps it would be provisionally allocated to the FSB. A reference to a ‘Fifth Directorate’ in a memo transcript of a phone conversation with Yevgeny suddenly took on much more significance, even without knowing what the Fifth was. And so, step by step, A was added to J, then subtracted from Q, and chunks of the story began to emerge.

“Gary, my boy, I think we can see our way forward,” said George.

“Indeed, Sir.” said Gary. “We just need to use Жosimova’s undoubted total loyalty to Putin against her, and we’ll be in clover before the end of the cricket season. And she and her boss won’t have any idea how we did it. At least it looks as though we won’t be troubled by Yevgeny suddenly appearing this morning. If he were coming, he’d have arrived well before now. I suspect that he’s decided that the risks that he texted me about make the whole business a little too dangerous for his taste, and he’s done a runner.”

“I think you’ve got it, my boy,” said George, “but it’s time for me to get down to the Recreation Ground. What do you say to Kerry coming along? I noticed you had a case with you.”

“I think Kerry would love an afternoon watching the cricket,” replied Gary.

“You can use my dressing room through there,” said George, nodding towards a nearby door. Gary picked up his case and went off to make himself beautiful again.

To Be Continued .......