The Unseen Eye

From Blushes Supplement 23. The final part of the story of Verushka Granchova from Comrade Verushka and Isolation Wing. Can things get any worse for poor Verushka?

The hole in the wall is minute. It is high up and its presence is disguised by the pattern of the wallpaper. It is a tiny hole but when the eye is applied close up to a tiny hole a surprising amount can be seen. In this case all of one half of the little room. It is the half which contains the single bunk bed and further along a dresser. Two girls are at present sitting on the bed.

Georgi Kritkov has drilled the hole in the wall of Comrade Instructor Verushka’s room for the purpose of watching her dress and undress; to get a look at her shapely nude body in fact. And there could possibly be something else as well: Comrade Verushka playing with herself for instance. In the absence of men — and there are no men at the Academy Training Centre apart from custodial staff such as Comrade Kritkov himself, girls may well resort to masturbation either purely for pleasure or to relieve stress and tension which life at the Academy may bring. Verushka Granchova has certainly had a great deal of stress to contend with in the last few days. But masturbation is a strictly forbidden practice and if Georgi Kritkov were to catch Comrade Verushka at it he could report her — or better still not report her but threaten to unless she agrees to certain favours Georgi Kritkov would very much like.

So Comrade Kritkov had drilled his little hole in the wall. He has been able to do this without fear of discovery because for two whole days — and nights — Comrade Instructor Verushka has not been in the room. She has been in the locked Isolation Wing of the Centre. Comrade Inspector Myanski has had her in there, for disciplinary purposes. Kritkov has a reasonably accurate idea why. He may be only a lowly menial but he keeps his eyes and ears open and his custodial and cleaning duties give him access, in his anonymous way, to all corners of the Centre. The Comrade Inspector wanted a couple of the students. Maybe he wanted to screw them or perhaps just cane them, or do something else to them, Georgi Kritkov doesn’t know the details, he cannot look into Comrade Myanski’s mind, but he did know that Comrade Myanski needed the disciplinary forms signed and Comrade Instructor Verushka had not wanted to sign the forms. She has signed them now of course, after her two days in the Isolation Wing. And during those two days Georgi Kritkov’s neat and virtually invisible little hole has been drilled high in the wall opposite Comrade Verushka’s bed. Her room is most conveniently adjacent to a space which carries the heating conduits so the situation is quite ideal. Comrade Kritkov cannot think why he has not had this marvellous idea before. He has had his eye on Verushka Granchova ever since she came here as a Gymnastics Instructor four months ago.

Comrade Instructor Verushka is very young to be a fully qualified Instructor — only 22. She is also extremely attractive; a pretty face framed in corn-blonde hair and a stunning figure, slim-waisted but with ripely rounded hips and in particular big, firm tits. Usually you do not get big tits on a gymnast but Comrade Verushka’s are mouth-wateringly big. In her leotard or when she is wearing a tight tee-top the big unbrassiered breasts with their prominent nipples seem to mock Comrade Kritkov. For they are strictly off-limits to a man in his lowly position.

He has in fact tried to strike up a relationship with Comrade Verushka, with hints of things he might be able to do for her. But in truth a man in Georgi Kritkov’s position has nothing of value to offer and Verushka has not been interested. The look in his eyes, which he cannot conceal, has told her what he is really after. And recently Comrade Kritkov has been turning his attentions to one of the students who might perhaps be more promising. This business with the visiting Comrade Inspector Myanski has revived his interest though; especially with the thought of what Verushka has undoubtedly been suffering in the Isolation Wing.

So this evening, with distraught Verushka returned to her room, Comrade Kritkov is there too, his hot eye fastened to that unseen observation point, his body tense, expectant. What does he see?

First of all it is the girl coming in. One of those who were the cause of all this business. One of the girls Comrade Myanski wanted handed over to him. Olga Smylmova. She has been handed over now. Earlier today Comrade Myanski had his first go at her. Georgi Kritkov with his ear to the ground knows this. She has been caned, maybe she has been fucked as well, but Comrade Myanski has certainly had his first taste of her. And now… the hesitant little knock at the door. And… the two of them, the Comrade Instructor and the girl, are embracing. It is a sharp little shock for Comrade Kritkov. Is it…? Somehow that thought has never occurred to him.

They sit on the bed. Talking in low but agitated voices. No doubt Comrade Verushka explaining about having had to sign that form. And then…

This time there is no possible doubt. They are lying on the bed. They are kissing, their bodies entwined. And yes, if there remained any possible doubt the Comrade Instructor’s hand is at the pretty student’s crotch. The girl’s hips are bucking and writhing against the gripping hand.

Comrade Kritkov can scarcely believe the evidence of his eyes — or of his one eye which is applied so firmly to the spyhole. Although now he can see it, it all seems obvious: this is why the Comrade Instructor refused to sign. Or attempted to refuse. Comrade Kritkov can scarcely believe his eye but at the same time he is overwhelmingly aware that he now has something. Much better than he had dreamt of; much better than the act of solitary pleasure he had hoped to witness. With this knowledge…

----//----

The next morning there is another discreet little knock at Verushka’s door. It is early and she is still in bed, though awake. She has not been able to sleep, not after that traumatic meeting with Olga and poor Olga’s tearful recounting of her interview with Comrade Myanski. And it will not be over, for either of them. Comrade Myanski had to leave the Academy late yesterday — urgent business calling — but there is every chance that he will be back at the earliest opportunity. So Verushka has lain awake, tossing and turning. And she is now awake… as there is this hesitant knock at her door.

Groaning she gets out of bed. Her thought is that it is Olga. Olga shouldn’t come here too often, it is dangerous. At least no one knows about her and Olga. If Comrade Myanski were to find out… that doesn’t bear thinking about. Verushka goes to the door. Olga can come in, for just a moment. She must impress on her…

It is not Olga of course. It is Comrade Kritkov. Obnoxious Comrade Kritkov, whose eyes go immediately to Verushka’s pyjama jacket, the thin material stretched tight with her full breasts and their thrusting nipples. Angry, she attempts to close the door. There is certainly nothing she wishes to say to Comrade Kritkov, especially at this hour. But his foot is pushed against the open door. He grins, that obsequious but knowing grin that can make a girl squirm.

‘Please. I have to get dressed.’ Verushka’s voice is sharp, angry, her arms coming across in front of her breasts. But Kritkov’s foot stays there. In his obsequious way he says he has to come in. For just a moment. It is very important.

Reluctantly Verushka lets him enter. She stands with her arms crossed over what Kritkov would clearly love to look at, a scornful, angry look on her face. Comrade Myanski can do things to her — dreadful, unbearable things — but not this man. Although there is no doubt he would love to do them. But as Comrade Kritkov speaks Verushka’s expression changes. Her face loses that haughty, superior look. Her cheeks take on a distinctly pink hue. What Kritkov is saying… it is impossible. He can’t know…

Georgi Kritkov, with his hang-dog look still, shakes his head. ‘Alright then, Comrade. I must go to the Comrade Director. That’s what I should do anyway. That’s my duty. I would be in serious trouble if she found out I knew about it and kept quiet.’

He turns for the door as if to go out. ’No!’ Verushka’s quick gasp. ’No, I…’

If Kritkov does know Verushka has no option. She will have to keep him sweet so that he doesn’t talk. What that will mean… but clearly Comrade Kritkov does know. She has a sick feeling in her stomach.

Georgi Kritkov is smiling again. It is unbelievable but it is true — he has this haughty young bitch in his power. He can do what he wants with her. Smiling, he shakes his head. ‘You haven’t been very friendly in the past, Comrade. Not friendly at all. But I expect you’ll want to make up for that now. Eh?’

Verushka can’t speak. Her unwelcome visitor has no such problem. ‘Take the pyjamas off, Comrade Verushka. For a start. To show you are going to be friendly. Take them right off. So I can see you.’

It is no more than she can expect. Hateful Kritkov with those hot, greedy eyes. Verushka tries to prevaricate. Please. She has a class. But Comrade Kritkov knows the times of classes as he knows everything else. Verushka’s class is not for 20 minutes yet. Plenty of time, he tells her. That is why he has come now, so there is time before Verushka’s class. Comrade Kritkov still retains something of that whipped-dog manner but there is a new confidence and boldness. He knows who is in control.

And so does Verushka. She forces down the feeling of nausea. Kritkov cannot be as bad as Comrade Myanski. Nothing like as bad. Comrade Myanski caned her between her legs. The thought of that pain still makes her sweat. Comrade Kritkov won’t want to do that, or anything like it. He merely wants to see, and touch. Those greedy hands which even now are twitching. He wants to… don’t think about it. Nothing is going to happen that can be remotely as bad as that other.

Verushka is unbuttoning the pyjama jacket. This is what Kritkov wants — to see her big tits. Think about something else — the outdoors, the forest. Those thoughts kept her sane when Comrade Myanski had her on her back on the table with her legs wide apart. Visions of a cool, green forest glade, the bright sun filtering down through the arching canopy. Focus her mind on that.

It is not easy though. Comrade Kritkov, in close, is at the bare tits. His hands have the feel of some voracious forest creature. Mounding the nude flesh, greedily fingering the nipples. Urgently groping…

‘Now the trousers, Comrade.’

It is not as bad as Comrade Myanski. Verushka again tells herself this. There is not that pain that made you think you were going to be sick. There is no pain at all — not that sort of pain. But it is torture nonetheless. Standing now with just her opened pyjama jacket on. With Comrade Kritkov all over her, his crawling hands everywhere. She is pulled against him and he has forced her legs apart. Comrade Kritkov is making excited grunting sounds as his hands do their animal-like things. And then with the grunts he is saying something. What else he wants.

It comes as a hot shock. Somehow Verushka has not thought of Comrade Kritkov in that light. In spite of his lecherous eyes she has seen him, with that obsequious manner, as merely wanting to see and fondle, grope. As he has done thus far. But what he is saying now…

Verushka frantically shakes her head at the sickening proposal. And there is an escape — there is no time. Her class. Kritkov knows he daren’t make her late for the class. No, there is no time. Not now. But Comrade Kritkov can come back. This evening…

----//----

The unseen little spyhole has no eye behind it now. It is only an invisible black spot. So there is no-one to see. The two figures on the bed. They are of course Comrade Verushka and that earlier observer. Comrade Georgi Kritkov. It is Comrade Kritkov who could mostly be seen, if there were an eye to see. His partially clothed figure. Comrade Verushka is not clothed, she is quite nude, but this could not immediately be known because she is under Comrade Kritkov with only her lower legs, her arms, part of her head, revealed. What is taking place, though, what Comrade Kritkov is doing, would be quite evident. From his energetic, rhythmic thrusting movements.

----//----

A dacha 100 miles to the west of the Academy Training Centre. Whereas that building was new, post-war concrete thrown up in the virgin forest, this place has been here for more than a century, since before the Revolution. It is an elegant old house, not grand but comfortable, and it is set in grounds that are quite magnificent with splendid old trees and spacious lawns. It is in a way a cruel irony that Verushka with her particular love of nature should be sent here, when her final destination, where she is due shortly to be sent, will be a prison camp where the last living green thing has long ago given up the unequal struggle for life.

The dacha is of course Comrade Myanski’s. He has managed to get Verushka sent here before she is taken off to the camp. Verushka is here and will be sent on to the camp because of Comrade Kritkov. That rather unpleasant individual enjoyed Verushka to the full and then decided that after all it would be safer for his own skin to inform on her. Verushka’s offence was, in the eyes of the authorities, a very serious one and a young woman guilty of it could certainly not remain in a post teaching girl students. There will be a long custodial sentence, of an indefinite number of years. That is Verushka’s fate. But for a temporary period she is here.

Comrade Myanski has had her sent to his beautiful dacha. He is a person of influence and it was not difficult to persuade the officials responsible to let him have her first. A little period of his own private treatment before she passes into the impersonal hands of the prison. Verushka has been here for two days now. Her life is a mixture of extremes. Comrade Myanski sees her for regular sessions, and Verushka has already had experience of what the Comrade Inspector can do in a correctional session. Things that can make her feel sick to even think about. But when she is not being dealt with by Comrade Myanski, Verushka is free to sit or stroll in the lovely grounds surrounding the house.

It is a release that is almost overwhelming. The grounds are otherwise empty for no-one is here except Comrade Myanski and his housekeeper and both are mostly busy in the house. To walk in these gardens is heaven — marred only by the knowledge that in perhaps a couple of hours the Comrade Inspector will require her again and it may be, Verushka is never told beforehand, for one of his extra special sessions. Up on the table on her back, with her legs apart.

Not all the sessions are these very bad ones. Sometimes Comrade Myanski may merely have Verushka over his lap, to spank her bare bottom. Or she may be bent over the table or a chair to have her bare bottom caned. She has had two of the very bad ones so far, one on each of her two days here. They have been dreadful, but Comrade Myanski has told her they are nothing to what she will get when she is sent on to the prison. The guards there will use her however they wish.

Verushka has no reason to doubt Comrade Myanski in this. It is now the early afternoon of her third day here, a lovely summer’s afternoon. Verushka is sitting in the garden beneath the shade of a spreading tree. The thought of that prison camp really terrifies her, and she has no idea when it will come. Given the option of the unknown but easily imaginable terrors of that place or here with Comrade Myanski, Verushka is in no doubt which she would choose, in spite of those bad sessions. But she doesn’t have the choice. But Comrade Myanski is a powerful, influential man, he has to be to have this lovely place. Couldn’t he persuade the authorities? If he wanted to? Keep her here as a servant?

Verushka gazes up at the high vaulting branches of the beech tree. It would be heaven to stay here, in spite of everything. She will ask him. Plead with him. Briefly she thinks of Olga but shuts the thought out. She mustn’t think of Olga. Poor Olga has also had to leave the Academy. Corrupted by Comrade Verushka, according to the Director, and she might now, with a taste for perverse and degenerate sexual practices, corrupt others. Poor Olga. Where is she now? But there is no point thinking of that.

Just then Comrade Myanski appears from the house, setting off towards the summer-house. He sees Verushka sitting under the tree and beckons to her. It is another correctional session. Frequently during the daytime he likes to use the summer-house. Getting up Verushka shudders. She has had one of those bad ones yesterday and the day before, but not yet today. But that prison camp… will undoubtedly be worse.