The Defector
For those of you alive in the 1980s, it probably brings back memories of cell phones the size of bricks, MTV and white Reebok pumps (I got through two pairs). However, it was also an era in which the Cold War still loomed over our lives. It was just over thirty years ago today that I graduated from Oxford University with a languages degree. I still have the graduation photo; there's me, a black and tan German Shepherd with a shaggy mane and a baggy suit. Thankfully, I've had my fur trimmed since then. After graduating, I got a plush job working for a large computer company in London as a company representative. I was lucky that by the time I was in my mid-twenties, I had a nice studio apartment, drove a shiny new Saab and could buy myself a suit that wasn't brown and two sizes too big. You're probably thinking "yeah, yeah why should I care about this?" Well, this chapter of my life also found me in one of the most surreal and heart breaking situation I had ever been in. It's a memory that will stay with me forever and continue to plague my thoughts at night. No matter how hard I try, it won't leave me. So, I've decided to write it down. I don't know why I feel the compulsion to do this, maybe it's to help me get my feelings off my chest. However, I've changed all the names (including my own) in case this falls into the wrong paws. This story may have happened several years ago and times have changed since then, but repercussions can still happen. I'll refer to myself as "Thomas".
Things got interesting for me while I was at Oxford. Simply getting there was amazing in itself. I felt privileged that I could sit in the same lecture theatres, walk the same corridors, even drink at the same pubs that world famous Philosophers, Presidents and Prime Ministers had frequented. At the start of my third year, I was summoned to my tutor's office. This wasn't unusual, I often met with him to discuss how things were going. My tutor was a short Fox Terrier called Professor Smythson. He was relatively young for a professor yet always dressed in a brown tweed jacket and had a silk handkerchief poking out of the breast pocket. His clothes suggested that he was trying to play the part of a professor to fit in with the older lecturers. I made that joke to one of my friends after we met Smythson for the first time. I arrived at his office for the meeting on my second day back from the summer break "Take a seat Thomas, I'll be with you shortly" he said, moving some papers around his desk. His office was large yet cluttered. There was bulging book case behind his desk, and more books were piled up on the floor. Light came in from a single, arch shaped window set far up the wall. Within the office, I could always smell his musk mixed with the scent of coffee and old paper "Sorry to keep you waiting" Smythson said, as he took a seat opposite me "how was your summer?" "It was good thank you professor" I replied "Excellent, now I'm going to cut to the chase and tell you why you're here" he continued, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his muzzle "would you describe yourself as an observant young canine Thomas?" "I guess so, professor" I replied, assuming the question was to do with my work "After all, you observed that I'm young for a professor and dress like I want to fit in" he said, giving a wily grin. I remember gulping and feeling shocked, yet Smythson didn't look angry "I'm also very observant. I make good use of eyes, ears and noses on the street to get information. I believe you are a very analytical young canine, not just in your work, but in general. You're also smart and level-headed" he explained. I wondered where all this flattery was coming from "I would like to refer you for a job interview" Smythson finished "What, here in the college?" I replied "No, not quite Thomas" Smythson said "in London. Are you interested?" "I think so" I replied, my curiosity getting the better of me. Smythson pulled out a card with an address on, told me to memorise it and then took it away, telling me not to repeat it to anyone else. The next day, I was on the train to London and had an interview in a dingy basement with two stern Bullmastiffs. I was astounded to learn that the interview had been to work as an informant for MI6. I had heard that the security services often recruited from Oxford, but I had no idea it would be me. I was put through a series of tests which I passed. Unfortunately, there was something that I didn't declare in my entrance examination. I knew they could reject me for it, so I kept my muzzle shut. If they found out, I'd be in serious trouble.
Getting the job with the computer company wasn't fake, although I reckon Smythson and MI6 twisted some paws to help me get it. Since I spoke German and good Russian, I often dealt with clients from the Soviet Eastern Bloc. I was asked by my handler to look out for anything suspicious or useful. Any fur with information willing to defect to Britain was a gold dust as far as they were concerned. I imagined they were very excited when they learnt that I was to help entertain some Russian customers. This was the era in which some enterprise was now allowed in the Soviet Union, so Russian clients began to travel to London for advice or potential trade. My boss, a shrewd fox called Philip, wanted to wine and dine the clients in an effort to impress them, so the conference was held in a swish hotel in Mayfair. I remember that it was snowing the day the Russians arrived. I joked to myself that it would perhaps make them feel at home. I checked into my room and changed into one of my best suits before waiting in the lobby to meet them. They arrived, shedding their coats and hats. I counted six in total. Five Siberian Huskies and a white Wolfdog. Although the Soviets were our enemies by default, I couldn't help but find many of their canines good looking. The Huskies had luscious grey fur and strong looking arms. However, it was the Wolfdog who caught my attention. He was trailing at the back, glancing at his surroundings with interest. He also had these piercing blue eyes and I felt drawn into them as he glanced in my direction.
The Husky at the front of the pack gripped my paw in a vice-like handshake and introduced himself as Mikhail. He looked a little surprised when I answered back in Russian. I led the group upstairs to the conference room, now decked out with chairs facing podium. To the left, a table with wine, vodka, caviar and sandwiches had been laid out. The Russian canines all took their seats, ignoring the refreshments. I found the food choices rather stereotypical. My manager took to the stage and launched into his speech about our company and what we stood for. The Huskies all watched with interest, but my eyes were fixed on the Wolfdog. His blue eyes gazed intensely at the stage. He must have sensed me looking at him since he turned and I had to avert my glance. After the speech, the representatives from our company mingled with the Russians. They were all aloof at first, and there was an icy atmosphere in the air. But eventually, after some awkward small talk, everyone became more relaxed. I helped myself to a glass of wine and looked up to see the Wolfdog standing beside me. Instinctively, I smiled. I knew that culturally, Russians tended not to smile at a stranger, but the Wolfdog smiled back and his blue eyes softened slightly "I'm Thomas" I said, extending a paw. I suddenly felt stupid introducing myself again when they already knew who I was "Andrei" He replied as he took my paw. His grip was firm, but not has hard as Mikhail's "Is this your first time abroad?" I asked "In the West, yes" He replied curtly. I noticed him eyeing up the food apprehensively "Hey, it's ok. We haven't poisoned it" I joked. I immediately felt like kicking myself, what a stupid thing to say! Andrei didn't seem too bothered. He picked up a sandwich, sniffed at it and stuffed it in his mouth "I've always wanted to come to London" he explained quietly to me "I've seen pictures of it, read English novels and listened to British pop music. I want to see Oxford and Edinburgh too". I explained that I had gone to Oxford University and his blue eyes lit up. I spent the next ten minutes talking about the city, the history of it and what there was to see. Eventually, Mikhail announced that their group was to leave. Andrei explained apologetically that he was staying in a hotel down the road. As the Russians left the room, Andrei turned and I saw his blue eyes filled with a mixture of sadness yet determination. It was as if to say he would come back. Little did I know what would happen next...
Two hours later I was sitting in my hotel room. I'd had dinner, changed out of my suit and was lounging on my bed watching the TV in a bath robe. There was a knock at the door. I hadn't been expecting anyone, so I opened the door cautiously. I was surprised to see Andrei standing there. He was still dressed in his suit and looked nervous "Andrei, what are you doing?" I said "Can I come in?" He asked in hushed tones, glancing over his shoulders. The rational part of my brain was screaming _"no!"_I had no idea how he'd found my room number, and for all I knew, this could be a KGB plot to kill me. I was also aware of the fact that I was naked under the bath robe. Yet, something in Andrei's deep blue eyes made me think differently. I glanced out into the corridor, checked it was empty and nodded. Gingerly, Andrei made his way into the room. He sat on the bed and gazed nervously at the floor "I want to leave Russia and stay here" he explained. My mind was racing, could this be genuine? I had found a fur willing to defect! "I can put you in touch with furs who will help" I explained to him "Nyet, I want to stay with you" Andrei cut in. His blue eyes bore passionately into mine. I sat down on the bed beside him "With me?" I remember repeating. He nodded "I want you to protect me" he asserted "I got this feeling when I first saw you, you seemed different somehow. I could tell by the way you looked at me". I wasn't sure what to say. I had been instructed to bring a defector in and pass them onto my superiors to check if they were genuine. But I'd hadn't been prepared for a fur to want to stay with me. However, the feeling of sensing each other as different was mutual. I'd had the same inkling with him. "Please" he said, gripping my paw. His eyes were wide and filled with fear, but I also saw longing in them. I nodded "Ok, but were you followed?" I asked nervously. Andrei shook his head "Nyet, I don't think so". I stood and drew the curtains across the window. I knew I had to notify my handler, yet my desires were stopping me. I also wanted to be alone with Andrei. To this day, I can't put my paw on a single reason why I didn't follow procedures. I guess I'd become too frustrated being in the closet and pined for an intimate moment with someone. Not only was Andrei extremely handsome, I also empathised with him over the fact we were probably in the same situation.
We sat on the bed for a moment, our tails swished against each other. I felt a growing excitement in my stomach. I reached over and took his paw again. Andrei gazed at me, his blue eyes filled with passion. I took him in my arms and our muzzles met for a kiss. I closed my eyes as our tongues caressed the insides of each other's mouths. Being a German Shepherd, I have an excellent sense of smell, and what got me excited at that moment was the powerful scent of Andrei's musk. To anyone else, it may have been overpowering, but to me it was heavenly. I reached over and unbuttoned his shirt. In turn, Andrei took off my bath robe so that I was sitting naked on the bed. He then slipped off his slacks and underwear and we both lay down on the covers, kissing and pressing our warm, furry bodies into each other "What do we do now?" Andrei asked after we broke the kiss. I remember grinning "I have an idea" I replied. I went down on his sheath and balls, running my tongue over them. He groaned and his cock emerged as I licked. I took his cock in my paw and began working my way up and down, rubbing my tongue against the shaft. Andrei groaned and squirmed. Before long, he ejaculated and I swallowed the warm spunk down my throat. I knew what I wanted to do next. I rolled him over and buried my muzzle into his behind, licking hard against his tail hole. The scent of his musk was strong around his backside and it got me even more excited. I lapped as hard as I could, exploring the rim of his hole with my tongue. Eventually I sat up, Andrei was lying face down, moaning in pleasure. There was one last thing I wanted to do. I asked Andrei if he wanted to take it all the way "Yes, yes I want you" he breathed.
I had kept a bottle of lube on me, just in case I ever had a sexual encounter. I retrieved it from my suitcase and applied it to my hard, throbbing member. Andrei got into position on the bed, presenting his rear. I applied the rest of the lube to his hole and probed inside it with a finger. Andrei grunted but didn't show any sign of discomfort "Ok, here I go" I whispered into his ear. I placed my hands around his waist and gently eased my cock into him. I then settled into a steady rhythm and my knot began to swell. Andrei let out deep groans as I thrusted into him. His hole was tight yet my cock seemed to fit into it perfectly. I remember the room being filled with our moaning as I neared my climax. My knot bulged and soon I was ready to make the tie. I ejaculated hard into Andrei, filling his hole up with my semen. Andrei's cock erupted with cum a second later. We both collapsed on the bed, panting and basking in the glorious afterglow. "Wow" I breathed to myself. I rolled over and we kissed again, stroking each other with our paws. We cleaned ourselves in the bathroom and climbed into bed. Through a gap in the curtains, I could see the snow falling outside. We pressed our bodies into each other for warmth. Before we drifted off to sleep, Andrei told me about his life in the Soviet Union. He came from a small village nestled in the mountains and had moved to Moscow after serving in the army. I promised him that I would take him to see the rest of London and then Oxford "I need to get some papers from my hotel" he explained "they might help your people" he cursed in Russian "I wish I'd brought them now" "Meet me tomorrow morning at ten by Waterloo Station" I told him "I'll take you to my handler and see that you're looked after". He smiled, his blues eyes softened as he feel asleep "Thank you Thomas" he whispered to me. I recall gazing into his deep blue eyes as I fell asleep.
The next morning I awoke to find Andrei getting ready to leave. He opened the door cautiously and peered into the corridor "I must go now, or they'll notice" he explained. He kissed me gently on the cheek "Goodbye Thomas, I'll see you at ten". With that, he left. I waited a moment before dressing myself. I checked out and ate breakfast at a café across the street. When I left, it was almost time to meet him. It had stopped snowing and the ground was covered by an unpleasant grey mush. I climbed into my Saab and drove across to Waterloo. I parked just across the street and checked my watch; it was precisely ten o'clock. I waited, and waited, and waited. The hour ticked by and I began to grow restless. I started the engine, drove around the block and parked again in the same spot. Again, I waited for another hour. My nerves were jangling inside my body. Had Andrei been caught? It was a horrible thought made worse by the fact that there was nothing I could do. I knew that it was probably unsafe for me to sit there in my car, but I continued to wait. Eventually, I noticed a police fox eyeing my car suspiciously. Sighing, I drove off with a heavy heart. As soon as I got back to my apartment, I cursed at my stupidity. Andrei could well have been a KGB plant used to get information from me, or he could have been sent by MI6. I'd heard that they used plants to weed out corrupted operatives. Maybe it was some sort of Queer hunt and the next day I'd hauled to my handler's office to explain myself. But nothing ever happened. I reported to my handler the next day and told him that everything was normal. I thought back to the passion and fear I'd seen in Andrei's eyes, the pleasure he had shown during sex and the way we had held each other in bed. I knew in my heart it was genuine. There are simply some things that you can't fake.
A couple of days later, I was sitting at my desk at work when Philip handed me a black and white photograph, explaining that it was going in the company newsletter. It showed him with the Russian delegation at Heathrow before they were due to fly back to Moscow. I could see my boss standing next to the five huskies who were gazing at the camera with fixed, serious expressions. Standing further away, looking slightly forlorn, was the unmistakable figure of Andrei. Although the picture was not in colour, I could almost sense the gaze of his passionate blue eyes. I excused myself, went to the bathroom and locked myself in a cubicle. For the first time in years, I sobbed my eyes out. The one consolation I had was that Andrei was alive, but he would not be coming back to me. Whether he got cold feet or just wanted a one night stand, I will never know.
Eventually I left MI6, they never found out about the night I spent with Andrei. I've since risen to a senior position in the company and found love for a while in the arms of another German Shepherd. He was nice and we dated for several years, although we broke up recently but remain friends. However, the night I spent with Andrei still remains etched into my memory. I don't where he is now. After the fall of the Berlin wall, part of me hoped that he would fly back to London and visit me. I've been tempted to fly to Russia myself and look for him, but I wouldn't know where to start. All I can hope is that he's happy and safe, perhaps gazing out his apartment window and thinking back to the night we had together.