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- Nov 2, 2001
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Captain Tikelov
Prologue:
What if World War Three had begun in Europe twenty five years ago?
The war was not progressing well for the Soviet Third Guards Shock Army since they had crossed the West German border at Fulda on June 20th 1981. The West German Federal Border Guards, the Bundesgrenzschutz, along with the U.S. 2nd and 11th Armored Cavalry Regiments, had put up furious resistance against the Soviets until they were joined By the 1st Infantry Division and 3rd Armored Division of the U.S. Army as well as a Division of the West German army, the Bundeswehr. The ground units had managed to bottleneck and pin the Third Guards and they were being relentlessly pounded by airstrikes by the combined U.S. , West German and British Royal Air Forces. REFORGER units of the regular U.S. Army, Reserves and National Guard were now pouring into West Germany which only served to further muck up the situation along the entire combined Soviet/East German Front. Even France, normally aloof to the NATO alliance, was alarmed at the thought of Soviet forces driving to the Rhine river and was sending in a French Foreign Legion and a regular army division to join the fight. In this environment, KGB Kapitan (Captain) Alexei Tikelov had the unfortunate luck of serving as both the Political Officer for the Third Guards Shock Army, trying to maintain morale with propaganda as well as inheriting the job of the Intelligence Officer who died when his armored car was destroyed by a U.S. Air Force Rockeye cluster bomb.
The rumble of an artillery duel could be heard from Soviet headquarters in Neustadt, West Germany as well as the occasional burst of AK-47s of the of the accompanying East German Stasi secret police executing captured West German policemen and other “enemies of the state” as they established “The People’s Democracy” in the areas that the
Soviets had overrun. It amused Captain Tikelov to watch East Germans killing other Germans that had been “liberated” by the “Combined Soviet-East German Socialist Liberation Front”. Though an avowed communist himself, he could not dismiss the irony of the situation as the Stasi produced another bloody pile of corpses. The Stasi’s dark crimson rank and branch insignia on their uniforms seemed appropriate-the color of old spilled blood, not that the Soviets had ever had an exemplary record dealing with conquered civilians or captured prisoners of war either. Sitting in his staff tent, he turned to the latest intelligence reports in the hopes that he could find some shred of data that he could provide the chief of staff, Colonel General Nikolai Sorokin, that could lead to a breakthrough at the front. Nothing. Each report he received was no different than the last-useless. “Govna (shit)!” he cursed under his breath. The chief of staff will be pissed again. Fortunately, as a KGB officer, he did not answer to the army, it was more likely for them to answer to him. He opened a drawer in his field desk and took out a bottle of vodka, taking several long pulls.
A few seconds later someone calls from outside the tent. “Tovarishch Kapitan (Comrade Captain)!”. Entering the tent is a Starshii Serzant (Senior Sergeant) of the Red Army. Salutes are exchanged. “Zaklyuchennii Tovarishch Kapitan, chinovnik ( A prisoner, an officer, Comrade Captain)!”. A prisoner, and an officer at that. Alexei Tikelov took another swig of vodka and thought that perhaps this day’s work might not be in vain after all. He thanked the sergeant and ordered him to bring in the prisoner. Fluent in German and English, he would conduct the interrogation himself.
To his surprise, a woman was led into the tent flanked by four Russian soldiers. She had been relieved of her weapons and was dressed only in her field uniform, having had her helmet and all of her field gear confiscated by the capturing Soviet troops. The sergeant handed Captain Tikelov her wallet containing her military identification. The wallet was empty, any money having been taken by the soldiers. Alexei looked at the I.D. card. Captain Lisa Ellen Webb, U.S. Army. 30 years old, the same age as he. He looked at her. 1.75 meters tall, slender-50 kilograms in weight at most, blonde hair, blue eyes, very pretty like all the girls he had known in Russia. Then he noticed her boots-tiny boots that no doubt contained tiny feet. Tiny feet that brought back memories of his former fiancee’ Svetlana, whose bare feet he had loved to tickle and make her smile and giggle and then make love to her. Foot tickling was a traditional old Russian form of foreplay that dated back to Tsarina Catherine The Great and before. Svetlana, with blonde hair and deep blue eyes much like this woman prisoner now standing before him. His beloved Svetlana-killed as she crossed the street by a vodka-sodden taxi driver in his native village of Izhevsk. He remembered seeing those tiny, pretty bare feet for the last time as Svetlana’s coffin was closed, dressed in her burial gown. Yes, the taxi driver had been punished, sent away to the Gulags to be a slave laborer for the rest of his days, but the loss of his beautiful Svetlana was an event that drove him to devote himself to duty in the KGB rather than accepting a commission in the army after graduating from the military academy. The prisoner glaring at him brought him back to the present. He looked at her again. On her right collar was the rank insignia of a U.S. Army Captain, on her left was the branch insignia of military intelligence-too good to be true! Alexei ordered her placed in a chair and bound.
“Well, Captain Webb, it is good to meet you. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Alexei Tikelov, Captain in the Committee For State Security.” She was shocked at his perfect English, gaping at him. “Ah, I’ve caught you off guard, captain, and I shall exploit this!” thought Alexei. “So what can you tell me of your unit’s present situation, captain?” Again her scowl returned, and she replied with the standard name, rank, service number as required by the Geneva Convention, something Alexei’s KGB superiors had indoctrinated him to ignore for the cause of Soviet victory over decadent capitalist nations. Alexei repeated his question, only to receive the same reply. Angered, the Russian sergeant raised his AK-47 to strike the captain with the butt of his rifle for her lack of cooperation. “Nyet (No)!” Alexei yelled, raising his hand to stop the sergeant. Angrily, he barked “Kazhdii Vi Naruzhnii (All of you-get out)!” Shocked, the sergeant and soldiers saluted-Alexei did not return it in his irritation- and they then left the tent. Alexei went back to his field desk and retrieved the bottle of vodka, and took a couple more long swigs, then he turned to face the American captain. “ I see that you seem reluctant to speak to me captain. What can we do to remedy this situation?” he looked deeply into her eyes, trying to read her face for a trace of uncertainty and hopefully fear. He saw only hatred burning in her eyes at him.
Alexei looked at her small boots again and a thought came to his mind” “Tshekotka (Tickling)”. He looked at his prisoner again and he smiled. The American captain for the first time revealed a glimpse of uncertainty in her visage upon seeing that chilling smile and an involuntary shudder came forth from her. Alexei was pleased.
Alexei brought up a second chair and propped the captain’s legs on it and bound them to it. “Such tiny boots, captain.” he said as he began to unlace them. Captain Lisa Webb’s eyes began to widen. “Wh-what are you doing ?” she stuttered. “Such tiny boots must contain tiny feet.” said Alexei. He removed her unlaced left boot, then the right one. “Wh-why are y-you d-doing this?” said Captain Webb. She shuddered again. Alexei peeled the olive green army issue sock off her right foot, then pulled the other one off her left foot, baring both feet. “And such tiny feet are very beautiful.” Alexei said, his voice a low, mechanical monotone now-almost trancelike. Her toenails were painted a blood-red color, very pretty, which seemed ludicrous to Alexei in a combat environment. Decadent capitalists, it was obvious, could not go without their comfort items, yet his vodka was just another essential item to him. “And such tiny, beautiful feet should be quite ticklish!” said Alexei, smiling that chilling smile again. Captain Lisa Webb’s eyes got even wider. “N-NO! N-N-NO!” she stammered, “I-I-I’m, m-my feet are v-very ticklish, p-p-please no!”. She began to smile and giggle involuntarily. “And such ticklish feet should provide me with very valuable information, is that not so, Captain Webb?”. She giggled again and writhed against her bonds to no avail.
Slowly, softly, lightly, Alexei began to caress the arch of Captain Webb’s bare right foot, then tickled underneath her toes where they joined the foot. She laughed and squealed. He drew lazy circles on the ball of her foot as she giggled and squirmed. “NYAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! ITTICKLESPLEASESTOP AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!.” He repeated the same tickling motions to her bare left foot, tickling her naked toe-pads as well. Captain Webb giggled and squeaked “HEEHEEHEEHEEHEE, HUH-HUH-HUH-HUH-HUH, AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!”
She smiled, giggled, squealed and bucked against her restraints in vain. Alexei’s mind struggled with his duty and his memories, for Captain Lisa Webb’s laughter reminded him of his happy days with his beautiful Svetlana, and his penis began to tighten in his trousers, yet he knew he had to place business before pleasure, but why not let business be a pleasure?
Kneeling in front of her naked feet, Alexei started to lick Captain Webb’s bare right sole, licking the tips of her toes and the ball of her foot. He sawed his tongue in between her toes, relishing the salty, cheesy taste of her bare foot and toes. She howled with laughter, tears rolling down her face as she grinned broadly and rocked to and fro in the chair that restrained her. He started to lick her bare left foot the same way and she squeaked, gasped, and giggled as a dark stain formed in the crotch of her uniform pants as her bladder involuntarily emptied. “EEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEEEEENYAHAHAHAHAHHAAA!” she giggled as her warm pee soaked her butt and ran down her legs. Alexei’s tickling finally broke Captain Lisa Webb as her mind shattered and she began babbling everything she knew as Alexei turned on a cassette recorder.
Alexei let Captain Webb catch her breath as he pulled off her pee-soaked uniform pants and underwear. He put her on her knees and dropped his uniform pants and slid into her wet pussy as he reached down again and started to tickle her bare soles now facing up as he fucked her. Rape of vanquished women is another old Russian Army/KGB tradition. Giggling, squealing, gasping for air and squeaking, Captain Lisa Webb climaxes as Alexei spews his sperm into her. Her use to him is done. Pulling up his uniform pants and still kneeling behind her, he begins gently tickling her feet again as she kneels and quietly unsnaps the holster of his 9MM Makarov pistol. Captain Lisa Ellen Webb, U.S. Army, is laughing too hard to feel the muzzle of the pistol against the back of her neck. KGB standard doctrine for the handling of prisoners of war. He then rushes to meet Colonel General Sorokin with the information he has gleaned-too late-for the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions are simultaneously jumping to reinforce the NATO units facing the Third Guards Shock Army and the 40th of Iowa and 100th of Kentucky Armored Divisions of the National Guard arrive to crush the Third Guards.
Members of the 401st Military Police Brigade and 75th (Army Reserve) Civil Affairs Battalion find the body of Captain Lisa Webb, barefoot and naked from the waist down with a bullet wound to the back of her head. “Take blood samples from all captured Russian soldiers, and any dead ones as well, I want ballistics tests from any captured Russian pistols taken from any POWs too!” barks Lieutenant Colonel Carlos Martinez, commander of the 401st MP Brigade, “We have a war crime to investigate!” Martinez has investigated all manner of crimes in his career as a military police officer, yet this one, as his men photograph the body, will haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Shot in the back of the head, Captain Lisa Webb was smiling broadly.
Epilogue:
Alexei Tikelov, his Russian uniform stripped of KGB rank and insignia and his hands bound behind his back, walks up the thirteen steps of the gallows guided by two U.S. military policemen at the U.S. Military Prison in Mannheim, West Germany. His blood type and the pistol taken from him when he was wounded in the final fierce battle that drove Soviet Forces out of West Germany and freed much of East Germany before the final truce was signed, were all that was needed to convict him of the war crimes of rape and murder. He was one in a line of many Soviet officers and soldiers to dangle at the end of the rope at Mannheim as were many captured East German Stasi personnel. His last words were “Na Rossiya, Na Moyo Svetlana (For Russia, For My Svetlana)!”. The officer in charge of the execution party, a First Lieutenant, made a cutting motion across his throat. The hangman, a Master Sergeant, performed his duty. Urinating, defecating, Kapitan Alexei Tikelov entered eternity. Thirty minutes later, his body was cut down and buried in an unmarked grave.
Prologue:
What if World War Three had begun in Europe twenty five years ago?
The war was not progressing well for the Soviet Third Guards Shock Army since they had crossed the West German border at Fulda on June 20th 1981. The West German Federal Border Guards, the Bundesgrenzschutz, along with the U.S. 2nd and 11th Armored Cavalry Regiments, had put up furious resistance against the Soviets until they were joined By the 1st Infantry Division and 3rd Armored Division of the U.S. Army as well as a Division of the West German army, the Bundeswehr. The ground units had managed to bottleneck and pin the Third Guards and they were being relentlessly pounded by airstrikes by the combined U.S. , West German and British Royal Air Forces. REFORGER units of the regular U.S. Army, Reserves and National Guard were now pouring into West Germany which only served to further muck up the situation along the entire combined Soviet/East German Front. Even France, normally aloof to the NATO alliance, was alarmed at the thought of Soviet forces driving to the Rhine river and was sending in a French Foreign Legion and a regular army division to join the fight. In this environment, KGB Kapitan (Captain) Alexei Tikelov had the unfortunate luck of serving as both the Political Officer for the Third Guards Shock Army, trying to maintain morale with propaganda as well as inheriting the job of the Intelligence Officer who died when his armored car was destroyed by a U.S. Air Force Rockeye cluster bomb.
The rumble of an artillery duel could be heard from Soviet headquarters in Neustadt, West Germany as well as the occasional burst of AK-47s of the of the accompanying East German Stasi secret police executing captured West German policemen and other “enemies of the state” as they established “The People’s Democracy” in the areas that the
Soviets had overrun. It amused Captain Tikelov to watch East Germans killing other Germans that had been “liberated” by the “Combined Soviet-East German Socialist Liberation Front”. Though an avowed communist himself, he could not dismiss the irony of the situation as the Stasi produced another bloody pile of corpses. The Stasi’s dark crimson rank and branch insignia on their uniforms seemed appropriate-the color of old spilled blood, not that the Soviets had ever had an exemplary record dealing with conquered civilians or captured prisoners of war either. Sitting in his staff tent, he turned to the latest intelligence reports in the hopes that he could find some shred of data that he could provide the chief of staff, Colonel General Nikolai Sorokin, that could lead to a breakthrough at the front. Nothing. Each report he received was no different than the last-useless. “Govna (shit)!” he cursed under his breath. The chief of staff will be pissed again. Fortunately, as a KGB officer, he did not answer to the army, it was more likely for them to answer to him. He opened a drawer in his field desk and took out a bottle of vodka, taking several long pulls.
A few seconds later someone calls from outside the tent. “Tovarishch Kapitan (Comrade Captain)!”. Entering the tent is a Starshii Serzant (Senior Sergeant) of the Red Army. Salutes are exchanged. “Zaklyuchennii Tovarishch Kapitan, chinovnik ( A prisoner, an officer, Comrade Captain)!”. A prisoner, and an officer at that. Alexei Tikelov took another swig of vodka and thought that perhaps this day’s work might not be in vain after all. He thanked the sergeant and ordered him to bring in the prisoner. Fluent in German and English, he would conduct the interrogation himself.
To his surprise, a woman was led into the tent flanked by four Russian soldiers. She had been relieved of her weapons and was dressed only in her field uniform, having had her helmet and all of her field gear confiscated by the capturing Soviet troops. The sergeant handed Captain Tikelov her wallet containing her military identification. The wallet was empty, any money having been taken by the soldiers. Alexei looked at the I.D. card. Captain Lisa Ellen Webb, U.S. Army. 30 years old, the same age as he. He looked at her. 1.75 meters tall, slender-50 kilograms in weight at most, blonde hair, blue eyes, very pretty like all the girls he had known in Russia. Then he noticed her boots-tiny boots that no doubt contained tiny feet. Tiny feet that brought back memories of his former fiancee’ Svetlana, whose bare feet he had loved to tickle and make her smile and giggle and then make love to her. Foot tickling was a traditional old Russian form of foreplay that dated back to Tsarina Catherine The Great and before. Svetlana, with blonde hair and deep blue eyes much like this woman prisoner now standing before him. His beloved Svetlana-killed as she crossed the street by a vodka-sodden taxi driver in his native village of Izhevsk. He remembered seeing those tiny, pretty bare feet for the last time as Svetlana’s coffin was closed, dressed in her burial gown. Yes, the taxi driver had been punished, sent away to the Gulags to be a slave laborer for the rest of his days, but the loss of his beautiful Svetlana was an event that drove him to devote himself to duty in the KGB rather than accepting a commission in the army after graduating from the military academy. The prisoner glaring at him brought him back to the present. He looked at her again. On her right collar was the rank insignia of a U.S. Army Captain, on her left was the branch insignia of military intelligence-too good to be true! Alexei ordered her placed in a chair and bound.
“Well, Captain Webb, it is good to meet you. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Alexei Tikelov, Captain in the Committee For State Security.” She was shocked at his perfect English, gaping at him. “Ah, I’ve caught you off guard, captain, and I shall exploit this!” thought Alexei. “So what can you tell me of your unit’s present situation, captain?” Again her scowl returned, and she replied with the standard name, rank, service number as required by the Geneva Convention, something Alexei’s KGB superiors had indoctrinated him to ignore for the cause of Soviet victory over decadent capitalist nations. Alexei repeated his question, only to receive the same reply. Angered, the Russian sergeant raised his AK-47 to strike the captain with the butt of his rifle for her lack of cooperation. “Nyet (No)!” Alexei yelled, raising his hand to stop the sergeant. Angrily, he barked “Kazhdii Vi Naruzhnii (All of you-get out)!” Shocked, the sergeant and soldiers saluted-Alexei did not return it in his irritation- and they then left the tent. Alexei went back to his field desk and retrieved the bottle of vodka, and took a couple more long swigs, then he turned to face the American captain. “ I see that you seem reluctant to speak to me captain. What can we do to remedy this situation?” he looked deeply into her eyes, trying to read her face for a trace of uncertainty and hopefully fear. He saw only hatred burning in her eyes at him.
Alexei looked at her small boots again and a thought came to his mind” “Tshekotka (Tickling)”. He looked at his prisoner again and he smiled. The American captain for the first time revealed a glimpse of uncertainty in her visage upon seeing that chilling smile and an involuntary shudder came forth from her. Alexei was pleased.
Alexei brought up a second chair and propped the captain’s legs on it and bound them to it. “Such tiny boots, captain.” he said as he began to unlace them. Captain Lisa Webb’s eyes began to widen. “Wh-what are you doing ?” she stuttered. “Such tiny boots must contain tiny feet.” said Alexei. He removed her unlaced left boot, then the right one. “Wh-why are y-you d-doing this?” said Captain Webb. She shuddered again. Alexei peeled the olive green army issue sock off her right foot, then pulled the other one off her left foot, baring both feet. “And such tiny feet are very beautiful.” Alexei said, his voice a low, mechanical monotone now-almost trancelike. Her toenails were painted a blood-red color, very pretty, which seemed ludicrous to Alexei in a combat environment. Decadent capitalists, it was obvious, could not go without their comfort items, yet his vodka was just another essential item to him. “And such tiny, beautiful feet should be quite ticklish!” said Alexei, smiling that chilling smile again. Captain Lisa Webb’s eyes got even wider. “N-NO! N-N-NO!” she stammered, “I-I-I’m, m-my feet are v-very ticklish, p-p-please no!”. She began to smile and giggle involuntarily. “And such ticklish feet should provide me with very valuable information, is that not so, Captain Webb?”. She giggled again and writhed against her bonds to no avail.
Slowly, softly, lightly, Alexei began to caress the arch of Captain Webb’s bare right foot, then tickled underneath her toes where they joined the foot. She laughed and squealed. He drew lazy circles on the ball of her foot as she giggled and squirmed. “NYAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! ITTICKLESPLEASESTOP AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!.” He repeated the same tickling motions to her bare left foot, tickling her naked toe-pads as well. Captain Webb giggled and squeaked “HEEHEEHEEHEEHEE, HUH-HUH-HUH-HUH-HUH, AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!”
She smiled, giggled, squealed and bucked against her restraints in vain. Alexei’s mind struggled with his duty and his memories, for Captain Lisa Webb’s laughter reminded him of his happy days with his beautiful Svetlana, and his penis began to tighten in his trousers, yet he knew he had to place business before pleasure, but why not let business be a pleasure?
Kneeling in front of her naked feet, Alexei started to lick Captain Webb’s bare right sole, licking the tips of her toes and the ball of her foot. He sawed his tongue in between her toes, relishing the salty, cheesy taste of her bare foot and toes. She howled with laughter, tears rolling down her face as she grinned broadly and rocked to and fro in the chair that restrained her. He started to lick her bare left foot the same way and she squeaked, gasped, and giggled as a dark stain formed in the crotch of her uniform pants as her bladder involuntarily emptied. “EEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEEEEENYAHAHAHAHAHHAAA!” she giggled as her warm pee soaked her butt and ran down her legs. Alexei’s tickling finally broke Captain Lisa Webb as her mind shattered and she began babbling everything she knew as Alexei turned on a cassette recorder.
Alexei let Captain Webb catch her breath as he pulled off her pee-soaked uniform pants and underwear. He put her on her knees and dropped his uniform pants and slid into her wet pussy as he reached down again and started to tickle her bare soles now facing up as he fucked her. Rape of vanquished women is another old Russian Army/KGB tradition. Giggling, squealing, gasping for air and squeaking, Captain Lisa Webb climaxes as Alexei spews his sperm into her. Her use to him is done. Pulling up his uniform pants and still kneeling behind her, he begins gently tickling her feet again as she kneels and quietly unsnaps the holster of his 9MM Makarov pistol. Captain Lisa Ellen Webb, U.S. Army, is laughing too hard to feel the muzzle of the pistol against the back of her neck. KGB standard doctrine for the handling of prisoners of war. He then rushes to meet Colonel General Sorokin with the information he has gleaned-too late-for the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions are simultaneously jumping to reinforce the NATO units facing the Third Guards Shock Army and the 40th of Iowa and 100th of Kentucky Armored Divisions of the National Guard arrive to crush the Third Guards.
Members of the 401st Military Police Brigade and 75th (Army Reserve) Civil Affairs Battalion find the body of Captain Lisa Webb, barefoot and naked from the waist down with a bullet wound to the back of her head. “Take blood samples from all captured Russian soldiers, and any dead ones as well, I want ballistics tests from any captured Russian pistols taken from any POWs too!” barks Lieutenant Colonel Carlos Martinez, commander of the 401st MP Brigade, “We have a war crime to investigate!” Martinez has investigated all manner of crimes in his career as a military police officer, yet this one, as his men photograph the body, will haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Shot in the back of the head, Captain Lisa Webb was smiling broadly.
Epilogue:
Alexei Tikelov, his Russian uniform stripped of KGB rank and insignia and his hands bound behind his back, walks up the thirteen steps of the gallows guided by two U.S. military policemen at the U.S. Military Prison in Mannheim, West Germany. His blood type and the pistol taken from him when he was wounded in the final fierce battle that drove Soviet Forces out of West Germany and freed much of East Germany before the final truce was signed, were all that was needed to convict him of the war crimes of rape and murder. He was one in a line of many Soviet officers and soldiers to dangle at the end of the rope at Mannheim as were many captured East German Stasi personnel. His last words were “Na Rossiya, Na Moyo Svetlana (For Russia, For My Svetlana)!”. The officer in charge of the execution party, a First Lieutenant, made a cutting motion across his throat. The hangman, a Master Sergeant, performed his duty. Urinating, defecating, Kapitan Alexei Tikelov entered eternity. Thirty minutes later, his body was cut down and buried in an unmarked grave.
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