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artificialqueens · 7 years

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Contacting Russia: From America With Love (Trixya)- Squeaky Stella

Trixie is an American mail order bride.

(AN: Stella and Squeaky back at it again. 10K words of two idiots falling in love. Shoutout to Pinky from Pink Shrooms for editing.)

Seven Days Before Contact

“I’m 22, very beautiful, entertaining, American, Christian-ish, brown eyes, golden hair, fair complexion, and can tap dance. Have 100 dollars to my name. If you’re a rich ass man from a foreign country, contact me. Desperate to leave America.”

Trixie finished typing out her bio and read it over. After man she added “or woman.” Her sexuality was getting her the fuck out of this dead end town.

She took out her iPhone, positioned her golden hair over her shoulder, pulled a Gucci bag into the frame, and winked. Snap.

No, she looked horrible. Trixie pulled down her shirt and tugged up the straps of her push up bra. Now, she sucked in a breath to make her waist look smaller. Snap.

“Tracey! Get yo itty-bitty titties outta your room and finish cleaning the kitchen,” her uncle yelled. Trixie self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest and flushed.

Instead of obeying she uploaded the photo and refreshed. Nothing. Shit, what was she thinking? Clearly, you needed some bikini photos to get an offer. Men were visual creatures.

Trixie went through her old photos and found a flattering shot, where she was posing with her ass facing the camera and looking seductively over her shoulder. Not featured here was the bruise that she had on her abdomen.

“Trixie! Get! Down! Here!”

She was about to get up when a message lit up her screen:

B: Hello, Trixie. My name is Katya Zamolodchikova, but you may call me Katya.

She clicked on his profile and bit her thumb. Huh?

T: Then why did you write it was Brian Zamolodchikova?

B: It’s…complicated.

T: Are you rich?

B: I have lots of money. Yes.

T: Then it’s really not that complicated at all, Katya. Send me a pic?

B: Wow, Americans are so direct.

Attached was a photo of a sharp jawed woman with cutting, green eyes. She might have been beautiful if she was smiling, but there was something forlorn in her expression. Trixie stared at the photo longer than was necessary.

T: You’re…not hideous.

T: AND your English is really good. Where are you from?

B: Moscow. I’m interested in a bride for public and sexual purposes.

T: Uh, duh, that’s why we’re here

T: Let’s just get this out the way- how rich are you exactly?

B: Rich enough to buy you a ticket and provide you with a home and unlimited supplies of makeup. How does that sound good?

T: Uhm, I don’t wear makeup. This is how my natural face looks. But that does sound good.

B: But in your picture you are…? Nevermind. This is not important fact.

B: In fact, what is important is that you can get here in a week. I have an important dinner party in two weeks, and I need a wife to advance in the social ladder.

T: Yeah, I also need to leave ASAP.

B: So you’d be willing to come?

T: Yes. Shit.

T: Promise you’re not an axe murderer?

B: I have never killed anyone. Besides for my true self.

T: Deep.

T: Forward me the tickets, and I’ll see you in a week <3

B: I’d like to Skype with you once before you come here. And speak with you five minutes on the phone every day. Is that okay?

T: Yes, deal!

Did Trixie sound desperate? Because she was.

——

Three Days Before Contact

Trixie didn’t have a lot of time to pack all of her things. From what her soon to be spouse had told her, she should probably leave her summer clothes behind. But there were some things she couldn’t part from, like her teeny-weeny pink bikini.

She shimmied into it and laid down on her bed to snap a picture to send to Katya. She angled her body so it looked leaner and her breasts bigger.

B: Where are you going in a bikini? It’s dead of winter?

T: To see you ;)

B: You look gorgeous…like a Polly Pocket had sex with a Barbie, and they had a beautiful love child named Trixie

She rolled her eyes. Katya tried really hard to think of original compliments when sometimes just a cliche one would do.

T: Thanks? My uncle’s going to be out all night with his poker buddies, so I’m free to Skype

B: Perfect.

Trixie positioned herself on her stomach and angled the camera, so her ass was strategically positioned behind her. After a few rings, Katya’s face popped up on screen. Even though Trixie’s laptop was cheap, Katya still looked beautiful. Her blonde hair was a messy halo around her head, her eyes were smoky, and her lips were dark. Did all Russians paint their makeup that heavy? Trixie loved it.

“Hey, future lover,” Trixie greeted. She squeezed her arms together, pushing up her cleavage.

“I see a suitcase behind you, are you packing?” Katya asked, carefully enunciating. Her voice was deep and husky. The first time that she’d called Katya, the tenor had surprised her. Somehow, it fit her- very Russian, very commanding.

The screen lagged when Trixie flipped her hair over her shoulder: “Packed already. There’s not much here to take away, to be honest. Uncle-pain-in-my-ass takes all the paychecks I earn for ‘rent,’ but I know he’s just buying up a shit ton of vodka.”

“Ah, the devil’s juice. Don’t touch it.”

“You don’t drink?” Trixie asked, surprised. “Smoke?”

“No. Well, I did when I was younger, but I quit everything a couple years ago. Dumped it all in trash can and set trash can on fire.”

Trixie laughed because she couldn’t tell if Katya was being serious. She said everything like it was fact, but Trixie got the feeling that she exaggerated some of her stories. Still, she was the most fascinating person that Trixie had never met, and it was that sense of unknown that made her lean in.

“Why? I mean yeah, it’s gross, but I still like the feeling of letting go, you know?”

“No. I never let go…just fell into dark, dark cycles of self loathing. It was, uh,” Katya trailed off and stared off at something. “Soul sucking.”

“Oh, uh, cool?” Trixie said, feeling dumb. “I mean that’s not cool. It sucks, but…yeah. I can kinda relate? When I graduated from high school, I started smoking weed every night. All my old friends had left for college but…”

“But?”

“But life happened to me,” she bitterly laughed.

How had this gone from Trixie trying to be a seductive “fiancee” to an existentially disturbing individual? It was something about Katya that made her want to confess all her deepest and darkest secrets. And she’d only been talking to her for a couple days now.

Trixie tried to change the tone: “That all leads us up to right now though, so is there anything…you want to do? Or see? While I have the house all to myself?”

“Yes, do you have any dietary concerns?”

Wow, nothing to get you in the mood like talking about your lactose intolerance. Trixie laughed, even if it wasn’t a joke.

“Wow. You’re…I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Silence.

“You have never met me yet.”

“Three more days,” Trixie repeated gleefully. It had become a mantra when she was at the grocery store swiping bags, when she was washing the floors, when she was alone on her computer and when she couldn’t sleep.

“Three more days,” Katya confirmed. “Tell me, Trixie, are you more excited to see Russia…or get away from America?”

Just then the downstairs door slammed open, and Trixie jumped. She cursed, slammed her computer shut, and grabbed her faded ‘Tap Dance Is Life’ sweatshirt.

“Who were you talking to, Tracey?”

Her uncle smelled like alcohol and cologne. She crossed her arms and snuggled deeper into the sweatshirt.

“Just a friend from high school. Why the hell are you even in my room? We agreed if I gave you my paycheck, you wouldn’t come in here-”

“What’s with the suitcase? You’re leaving, huh?” He grabbed her by the wrist. “Selling yourself off to the highest bidder?”

“Don’t touch me! D-don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Just like your ma. Rotten apples don’t go far from the rotten tree.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

He leaned in closer: “You want to know what happened to Barbie? She married Ken and left you here. Just left. Didn’t give a shit about nothing except that she was the fuck away- is that what you wanna be?”

But Trixie had heard enough. She ripped her hand away and lunged for her purse. There was no time to grab her suitcase.

She ran, stopping only to slip into a warm pair of sparkling Uggs by the door. Uncle was cursing and banging down the stairs.

Trixie hugged her purse to her chest and ran faster. The sun was threatening to set, and the sky was bruised purple.

She shivered as she slowed to a walk. There was only a hundred dollars and her phone charger in her stupid, Gucci bag. One plane ticket. Two bars. And three days until her flight.

Trixie had also thankfully grabbed her phone on the way out, but, as she scrolled through the contacts, there was only one voice she wanted to hear.

“Sorry for hanging up on you,” Trixie said, forcing herself to smile. “Had a bit of technical difficulties.”

“What happened?”

She sniffled: “I-I just decided that I need to depart a little earlier than expected.”

“Trixie…are you crying?”

“No. I’m fine. I’m so happy that I’m leaving soon,” Trixie’s voice cracked. “I-I can’t wait to get the fuck out of this horrible country.”

She found herself in front of Beyond Belief Dance Studio. Little girls clicked proudly in their heels, leaving their mothers’ cars, and Trixie’s heart twisted with jealousy. Had she really looked like that? Not a single care in the world?

“Trixie, talk to me. What’s happening?”

Trixie hugged herself as she watched Ms. Edward’s dance class through the glass. She went to wave and then stopped. Trixie didn’t recognize herself in the reflection.

“Just saying goodbye.”

She turned away, slumped down on the bench in front and swung her legs, like she was waiting for someone to come pick her.

“This was the last place I saw her,” Trixie babbled, even though Katya wouldn’t know what she was talking about. “But that doesn’t matter now. She’s not coming back, and I’m not coming back. Just three more days, right?”

“Three more now. Tomorrow two more. And then…”

—-

One Day Before Contact

Trixie sprayed water on her face. This time it actually was bare. She rubbed soap under her armpits. Her stomach growled, but there wasn’t much money left to spend on food. Maybe enough for chai and a cookie.

She’d been to the gift shop too many times yesterday, and she was afraid the frowning manager was going to call the police.

Trixie yawned. It was harder than you’d think to sleep on airport seats.

“Missed your flight?” An old lady asked. She had kind eyes and a warm smile. Trixie smiled back.

“Yeah, luckily my fiance bought me another ticket,” she lied.

“Aw, he must love you. When’s the wedding?”

“Tomorrow,” Trixie deadpanned.

“Oh! Wow, dearie, I’m so sorry you have to spend the day all alone here-”

“It’s fine,” Trixie paused and bit her lip. “I actually did lose my credit card. Such a mess, huh? Do you have twenty dollars?”

“Of course! And congratulations on the wedding. Mazel tov!”

This is what Trixie had been reduced to- scamming old woman for their pocket money. Fuck, at least now she could get herself a proper breakfast of bacon, egg, and cheese on toast.

“Just calling to let you know I’m not dead. Yet. Somehow surviving.”

“I’m at work but-” Katya paused and then screamed something in Russian. “But I’m glad to know you made it another night, honey. As soon as you get home, I’m drawing up a bath for you. Hot.”

Trixie’s eyes fluttered.

“Oh, fuccck, yeah. Keep talking dirty to me.”

The man next to her choked on his food.

“And then I’ll massage your feet…”

“Shit… fuck.”

“And your back…”

“Oh, keep going, baby. Keep going.”

“Make you food. Anything you like.”

Trixie bit her thumb as she listened to Katya’s deep, raspy voice. Oh, shit, how was it so sexual when they were talking about this?

“Just be warned that I’m gonna look like shit. Alright? I’m airport chic.”

“You won’t.”

“No, really, I’m in sweats with a bikini underneath.”

“Sexy,” Katya growled.

“Yeah, nothing hotter than a girl and her unshaven legs, huh?”

“I love leg hair.”

“I haven’t showered in almost three days?”

“I love a natural scent.”

“My…” Trixie lowered her voice. “My period’s in a couple days.”

“Means you’re fertile.”

“Oh my god! You are the strangest person that I’ve ever met, Katya! Who doesn’t care about those kinds of things? Fuck, any girl would be lucky to have someone like you,” Trixie laughed and then flushed when she’d realized what she’d said.

“Lucky you then, yes?”

Trixie cradled the phone and smiled: “Yes, lucky me. So how do you say ‘hello’ in Russian? I’d look it up myself, but I don’t have any data.”

“‘Privyet’ is hello. ‘Poka’ is goodbye. And ‘Ya galodnayah’ mean ‘I’m hungry.”

“Damn, I can’t believe you taught me all the Russian I’ll ever need to know. ‘Poka’ for now…and in a couple hours ‘privyet.’”

—-

Watching Contact

Trixie was crying again. Poor Eli hadn’t made it in time to save her father. Now, she was alone in the world and- Trixie turned it off. God, she’d always hated this movie- what was wrong with her? Maybe she was hormonal.

The airplane food tasted like shit, but Trixie was hungry. Yum, nothing like fresh chemicals and tears.

She’d wasted the last of her money on a Russian-English dictionary, but reading on a plane or car made her nauseous.

‘Privyet, Katya,’ Trixie repeated in her head.

“Why are you wearing sweatpants covered in hearts? My mommy says only messy Americans leave the house without real clothes on,” the little girl next to her said. She was holding a doll to her chest and staring up at Trixie with wide eyes.

“Well, did your mommy also teach you not to talk to strangers? Or comment on their fashion choices?”

“We’re not strangers! My name’s Adore Delano Haylock, and we’ve been sitting next to each other for hours now. And it was a bad fashion choice.”

Oh, wow, a seven year old was roasting her?

“Listen, Adore. My name is Trixie, and I’m going to go meet someone very important in a couple hours-”

“Who? A stylist? My daddy’s a stylist so he can help you.”

Adore- 1. Trixie- 0.

“No, my wife. Her name’s Katya, and I’m going to see her and say ‘poka’-”

“That means goodbye, silly!” Adore giggled. “My daddy’s American and my mommy’s Russian. So I’m a bi-language-person.”

“Ok, no. I’m going to go up to her and say…uh…say…I knew this! It’s…”

“Privyet?”

Trixie sighed and buried her face in her hands. Adore was still watching her. Nothing like breaking down in front of a child to really get you in the matrimonial mood, huh?

“Are you crying? Sorry I said that about your pants. My daddy says I have a mouth that never stops going and going and- wait, if you don’t know Russian, how are you going to live there forever and ever?”

“I’ll learn.”

“Well, I have an apartment in Moscow, so maybe you’ll live close to me? Then you can come over, and I’ll teach you the alphabet and you can teach me…?”

“How to dance,” Trixie said without thinking and yawned. She had a couple more hours to sleep, so she leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. Adore leaned back and started babbling to whoever was behind them, most likely her parents. Trixie wished she had somebody to turn around to.

Instead, she drifted off and dreamed of their plane flying up to space and landing on the moon. There, Katya was waiting for her with flowers. But with each step that Trixie took towards her, she seemed to be floating farther away. Smaller and smaller.

She jolted awake.

“We’re in Roccceeeha!” Adore sing-songed and tugged on her sleeve. “You’ll be such a pretty bride. Promise I can come to the wedding?”

“Sorry about my daughter. Adore doesn’t know when it’s best to stop. Hope she didn’t annoy you too much,” the man behind them said as he got up and ruffled Adore’s hair. “Name’s Roy Haylock by the way.”

“Trixie, and it’s fine. I was happy for the company,” she said truthfully. Adore gave her a crumpled sheet of paper and ran off past her father, who gave her an exasperated eye roll as he followed. Trixie put it in her purse and waved goodbye.

Trixie didn’t have any other luggage, so she went straight down the terminal. She looked around for a familiar blonde, but she didn’t see her.

B: I’ll be there in ten. A little traffic

B: I’ll be the one with the sign that says your name. Pro Tip- if the sign says a different name, it’s probably not me.

Typical Katya, Trixie thought as she collapsed onto a seat. She saw Adore running up to a blonde woman, who swirled her around, and Roy tightly embraced them both. The sight made her teary.

She was overwhelmed at the sudden roar of Russian voices. All the women she saw heading out into the white world were wearing fashionable fur. Around them all the signs were in cyrillic. She wished she had a translator.

“Privyet, Trixie!”

Trixie turned, ready to embrace her beautiful fiancee, but she froze. That was definitely a man. Sure, it was still a hot, Russian man in a three piece suit, but a man nonetheless. He was holding a sign that said her name with little hearts around it.

“Um, did Katya send you to pick me up? Are you, like, the driver?”

“You don’t even recognize your own wife, shame on you Trixie,” the man shot back, and it clicked. The camera may have hidden some things, but the voice combined with the distinctive eyes and cheekbones gave it away. That was Katya.

“You’re…shit, you’re hot in both genders,” Trixie laughed as she threw her arms around Katya. “That’s not fair.”

Katya blinked at her: “Wait? You’re okay with this?”

“Yeah, duh. You’re still you no matter what you’re wearing. Can we go home now?”

“Of course,” she said and led her to a shining Lexus in the front. Well, Katya hadn’t exaggerated how rich she was.

“Oh, and privyet, Katya,” Trixie said and leaned in to softly peck her on the lips. The way Katya’s whole face turned red was precious.

—–

Thirty Minutes After Contact

Trixie pressed her face to the window, eyes wide, as she looked out at Moscow. It was a glittering city of lights, and it seemed more like New York City than what she’d thought Russia would look like.

I want to see everything, Trixie decided. New country? New me.

Katya’s apartment was just as strange as Katya herself. There was a shelf full of nothing but different patterned Matryoshka dolls glaring down at her. The walls were covered with rugs, furs, and a sad moose head. Where had Trixie had found herself?

“Follow me,” Katya beckoned her towards the master bedroom.

There on the zebra print covers was a white wedding dress. Trixie ran her hands over the heavily beaded material, and she bit her lip as tears filled her eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” she managed.

“It was my mother’s dress, and she would have wanted you to have it. I thought you could wear it for the photos? After we’re all rested up in the morning.

Trixie hugged Katya. "I’ll put it on first thing tomorrow.”

Katya was looking at the dress like she wished that she could have worn it, but all she said was: “The shower’s the third left. I wasn’t sure what shampoo you liked, so I bought up every kind.”

Trixie laughed when she saw that the bathroom was, indeed, covered with every possible kind of shampoo. She hopped around them to get into the shower and struggled for a minute to turn it on.

Trixie moaned as she grabbed a random shampoo and rubbed it into her scalp. There was nothing like a hot shower to wash away all the grime from living in an American airport for three days. She dug her fingers down as she tried to figure out everything that had happened. Katya’s “real” name was Brian and they dressed like a man in public but a woman in private. From her limited Tumblr knowledge, Trixie thought they might be transgender? Or maybe genderfluid?

Honestly, the weirdest part of Katya wasn’t even her changing gender identity. It was the way she looked at Trixie so kindly and offered to make her blinchiki for dinner. Or how Katya had left out new clothes for her and thrown her old ones into the wash. Now that was weird.

Trixie shaved everywhere because she wasn’t sure how tonight was going to go. But Katya had left her loose, baggy pajamas, not something sexy or skimpy. Trixie gratefully snuggled into the pink pjs. She liked the way they smelled like cinnamon and something distinctly Katya.

Trixie crept into the kitchen to find Katya dressed up like how she was used to seeing her on Skype. She was also in pajamas, Trixie noted as she wrapped her hands around her waist.

“So…I don’t think you have enough shampoo,” Trixie joked, and Katya laughed as she leaned into her touch.

“I was worried,” Katya said. “Now, here. I don’t want you going to bed on an empty stomach, and I don’t trust any of that airplane food.”

The blinchiki were hot and delicious. Trixie sat at the kitchen table with her plate, spread jam inside, and then rolled them up like she’d seen before in pictures. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it right, but it tasted like fucking heaven. Hot shower? Delicous food? Trixie had found herself a keeper.

“Fuck, you’re an amazing cook,” Trixie moaned. “I don’t know why you need my useless American ass.”

“I enjoy the company. It’s…I get so lonely here by myself.”

“Then why don’t you invite people over?”

“Because they don’t know about me. About Katya.”

“Oh,” Trixie said slowly. “I wanted to ask you about that, by the way…are you- trans?”

“I’m me,” Katya said firmly, but Trixie wasn’t really sure what that meant. Oh well, she didn’t give a shit if Katya dressed in dresses, so long as she felt her best.

“Well, I think you -both sides of you- are hot as fuck,” Trixie said as she licked jam from her sticky fingers. She caught Katya’s eyes and mischievously winked. Katya flushed and turned back around to face the stove.

They ate the rest of their dinner together on Katya’s couch on opposite ends, though their feet met in the middle. It was sweetly domestic, but not at all what she’d pictured as her first night with her betrothed. Trixie smelt flowery, her hair was soft around her shoulders, and her legs bare and shining. Trixie looked like sex, but they weren’t even touching, aside from the occasional brush of their toes.

Trixie never felt shy, but, under Katya’s gaze, she felt herself flush. There was just so much to look at, but all she wanted to do was turn back and look at Katya. She spoke briefly about her flight, mentioning Adore’s quips, and Katya laughed. She had a deep, throaty laugh, and it made Trixie bite her lip.

“By the sound of your long journey, you must be tired. Leave the plates in the sink -I’ll wash them in the morning- and let’s go to my room,” Katya offered when they were finished.

Her bedroom was just as luxurious as the rest of her home. Trixie’s toes curled into the fur rug as Katya pulled back the covers for them.

“What kind of movies do you like? I have plenty of American ones,” Katya said as she grabbed the remote. Trixie crawled into bed as enticingly as she could. But Katya’s eyes were glued to the screen, trying to find something for them to watch. All that sexual energy wasted.

“Put whatever on,” Trixie finally replied as she curled into Katya’s side. Her hand rested on Katya’s stomach, her skin warm through her shirt. Katya stiffened under her touch then relaxed. They were clearly still getting comfortable with each other.

Trixie’s eyes felt heavy as she rested her head on Katya’s shoulder. Jet lag was starting to set in, and now that she was warm and safe, Trixie found it hard to keep her eyes open. When she covered her mouth to yawn, Katya chuckled.

“Go to sleep, if you’re tired,” Katya insisted.

“But- but it’s our first night together. We should be having wild, crazy sex on top of your Matryoshka dolls!”

“Shh, you’ve been watching too much 50 Shades of Gray. Go to bed,” Katya whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Trixie felt so warm and content.

“No, I’m just gonna…” Trixie yawned again. “Rest my eyes.”

Those were some famous last words. Without even seeing the first scene of whatever movie Katya had decided on, Trixie fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.

In her dreams, she was back on the plane, but this time there was no one there except her and Katya. They were piloting it alone in space, hurtling through space together, and Trixie didn’t want to share their flight with anyone else. Mine all mine.

—–

Morning Full of Contact

What time was it? Trixie’s internal clock was all fucked up. When she opened her eyes, the morning sun was lazily filtering through the cracks in the thick curtains. It felt like she’d woken up in a different life.

Katya let out a puff of air by her ear and shifted, her hard cock pressing against Trixie’s hip. After so much innocent cuddling, this was exactly what Trixie needed. She carefully rolled onto her side so her ass was flush against Katya. She experimentally rocked back, grinding against Katya’s cock. She held her breath, waiting for a reaction. Nothing. She tried again, firmer this time. Her panties were growing wet.

“Mh,” Katya mumbled behind Trixie, stirring in her sleep.

Her hand gripped Trixie’s hip and she pushed up against Trixie.

“Wake up, baby,” Trixie teased, arching her back to push up into her.

Katya groaned, eyes fluttering open, as she unconsciously rutted forward into Trixie’s ass. Oh god, that friction was everything.

Trixie liked how Katya’s breath was hot against her neck. Her fiancee’s large hand curled around her stomach, purposefully pressing her in closer.

“Is this how girls say ‘good morning’ in America?” Katya whispered in her ear. Her Russian accent became more pronounced when she was horny. Trixie whimpered at the combination of that low, vibrating voice and that hard bulge against her ass.

“Russians say ‘privyet,’ and Americans silently grind,” Trixie giggled, feeling ridiculous. Katya laughed along with her and pressed a kiss against the curve of her neck. The vibrations of her laughter made Trixie shiver in excitement.

She’d fucked girls and a couple of boys before. They’d all been hard quickly so that her uncle wouldn’t walk in. They’d all been sloppy and hurried so that she could get back to class. They’d all been unsatisfying.

But Katya? Somehow, her slow, lingering touch was everything that Trixie had been waiting for. She’d been waiting for someone who would hold her close and love her like she needed.

“Shouldn’t we wait for marriage?” Trixie continued to tease as Katya slowly sucked down on her neck. Trixie happily moaned at the pressure of Katya’s lips and the tightening grip around her hips.

“Too long,” Katya growled, Russian accent thick and sexy, as she continued to rub herself against Trixie’s ass.

“Two hours is too long?”

Katya slipped one cold hand under Trixie’s pajama top to curl her fingers around her breast: “Too long.”

Trixie, desperate to feel Katya’s skin against her’s, kicked off her pajama bottoms and shimmied off her top. She needed to feel her naked cock against her, wanted it pressed against the cleft of her ass. Trixie was now naked except for a pair of lacey panties, but Katya still had on all of her clothes. How frustrating.

“It’s rude to have more clothes on than your guests.”

“Is this peculiarity of American culture?” Katya asked as her long fingers dipped down to tug at the elastic of Trixie’s panties. She was so wet, and the tugging motion made her squeeze her thighs together. Fuck.

“No, it’s a universal rule,” Trixie said as she turned around to kiss Katya’s lips. They were soft and gentle, and Katya still tasted like cinnamon.

Katya’s fingertips moved under her panties to gently rub against her. Trixie whined at the teasing.

“Well, we have our own rule here in Russia.”

“Oh?” Trixie panted as Katya’s fingers pushed inside of her wetness, and she jerked her hips up against Katya’s hard cock. Their movements were getting more frantic, more frenzied. Trixie bit her lip as she felt herself edging closer and closer.

“Ъерись дружно, не будет гурузною,” Katya said, and it was the first time that Trixie had ever heard her speak in Russian. The low, harsh sounds on Katya’s tongue sounded so fucking sexy. She’d never thought something you couldn’t understand could make you horny, but, fuck, it did.

“Translate,” Trixie whined as she continued to rock her hips, the lace of her panties wet. Katya two fingers were rocking so slowly and sweetly inside of her.

“Many hands,” Katya slowly whispered as she slipped another finger in her. “Make light work.”

“Then how come I’m making you harder?”

“That’s your ass not your hands,” Katya chuckled lowly as she pushed down her own sweats. Trixie gasped as Katya dragged the length of her bare cock against her ass. She could feel the slickness of precum. Sweat dripped down her neck. Everything was slow and sensual.

More, Trixie thought as she desperately rut back into Katya’s hardness. Katya spread Trixie’s legs apart and then positioned herself right in between her thighs. The head of Katya’s cock pushed up against her soaking panties.

Trixie was trembling, sweating.

Katya thrust up against her one more time, and then she was coming all over her thighs in sticky, white streaks. It was the sight of herself all covered in Katya’s cum that pushed Trixie over the edge. She came with a helpless, little whimper.

“Fuck, th-that was-” Trixie stammered. “Amazing.”

“And who said I was done?” Katya said with a wicked, little smirk, and Trixie loved this side to her.

Then Katya was pushing Trixie up against the pillows of her bed. Trixie bit her lip as she looked down at Katya, settling in between her legs. Oh god, her cheekbones looked so sharp, and her cheeks were still flushed red.

Trixie eagerly spread her legs wider, thighs still covered in cum. Katya grabbed the elastic waistband of her panties and slowly dragged them down. Trixie felt so overstimulated and sensitive that just the slight puff of Katya’s breathe made her toes curl against the fur covers.

“You know for a Russian…you don’t seem to be rushing,” Trixie said as Katya slowly licked her thighs. It was so erotic and kinky for Katya to clean up her own cum, and the wet drag of Katya’s tongue made Trixie whimper.

“And for an American, you never shut up…oh wait, this is to be expected,” Katya teased as she pressed an open mouth kiss against Trixie’s inner thigh. It had only been a minute, but Katya’s meticulous licking and teasing had had left Trixie squirming for more. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter.

Katya looked up at her through her dark lashes and purred, “Do you know how to say ‘please’ in Russian?”

“Oh my god, this is sex not a language lesson.”

“It could be both,” Katya said slowly as she pressed the softest kiss against Trixie’s folds.

“Give me a hint,” Trixie begged. “And by hint I m-mean tell me how to say it.”

“Пожалуйста,” Katya instructed carefully, massaging Trixie’s wet thighs with her big hands, squeezing them with her fingertips. Trixie rolled up her hips, desperate.

She repeated the word, the Russian heavy against her tongue, and she couldn’t get her mouth to curve against the syllables properly. But judging by the sharp intake of Katya’s breath, she might have been doing something right.

“Good,” Katya praised and leaned in to softly lick her. The wet drag of her tongue up Trixie made her eyes flutter. She was just coming down from the high of one orgasm, and now Katya’s skilled tongue was pushing her closer and closer to another one. Katya was licking her open in long, languid strokes.

Trixie squeezed her thighs around Katya’s face, twisting her ankles together behind Katya’s shoulders. She was coming apart in tiny whimpers and moans. She had one hand around her breast and the other pushing Katya’s head further down.

“Oh, g-god, Katya,” Trixie moaned, back arching, as she came again.

“What do you think of the Mother Russian tongue?”

“I think,” Trixie panted. “If you ever say the word ‘mother’ in bed, I’m kicking you out.”

“Moooother, I’m being kicked out of bed again.”

Trixie tried to shove her, but Katya caught her arm, and they somehow just ended up making out. Trixie would never get enough of this.

——-

Two Hours Since Sexual Contact

Trixie was sober, but she was howling with laughter like she was drunk. The wedding dress had fit perfectly, everywhere except her breasts, so Katya, dressed now like Brian, was carefully pulling back the straps and pinning them down. The sight of her soon-to-be wife back in a fancy suit with a delicate, sewing needle in her hands was too much. What was her life?

“I’m going to prick you if you keep laughing,” Katya warned.

“I know something you could prick me with.”

“I’m serious, Trixie, these needles are very sharp.”

“I always knew you were gonna be the death of me,” Trixie giggled into her hands. It wasn’t that funny, but she was just in such a good mood.

Everything that had seemed so strange last night became familiar in the morning light. The Matryoshka dolls smiled down at her. The moose head didn’t seem so sullen. She ran her hands over the tapestry on the wall as she waited for Katya to finish.

“Is it weird that this feels like home already?”

“Yes,” Katya replied, never one to bullshit.

“Call me unpatriotic then, because I never felt like I had a place in America. It was a country full of strangers, but I felt like the strange one,” Trixie confessed. Katya was silent, listening.

“I always felt like there was something more for me. More than just that the grocery story and my uncle and the girl at the back of the liquor store, who’d eat you out for twenty bucks. I felt like I was suffocating there in Texas, but here in Moscow,” Trixie took a deep breath and exhaled. “I can breathe again.”

Katya leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to the side of her neck, over the hickey from the morning, and she wrapped her arms around Trixie. Trixie leaned back into the touch and closed her eyes. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, just breathing.

Then Katya did Trixie’s makeup (“Since you don’t wear any”) and pinned Trixie’s hair into an elegant up do. Trixie stretched on long, satin gloves, and a fur coat. When she twirled around, she felt like a princess.

“Wait,” Katya took Trixie’s hand and pressed something into her palm. “Finishing touch.”

Trixie gasped as she held the delicate, diamond necklace.

“I don’t like diamond rings- always getting lost or misplaced. Do you like? We could always go back and get the jeweler to make you something else-”

She threw her hands around Katya and kissed her quiet. Trixie had never owned something so valuable in her life. Trixie had never worn any jewels worth more than a hundred bucks.

“It’s perfect,” Trixie said when she really meant you’re perfect.

She couldn’t stop touching it. Trixie loved the weight of it against her neck, and the way it dipped down just above her collarbones. She loved the possessive, sparkle in Katya’s eyes whenever she looked at Trixie wearing it.

They drove to the station to fill out the marriage forms. It was an hour of boring bureaucratic bullshit, but, side by side with Katya, it didn’t matter. Trixie rested her head against Katya’s shoulder.

“I’m too pretty today to waste away doing paperwork.”

“Alright, Cinderella,” Katya teased, winking at her. “I have something fun planned.”

“More fun than filling out forms?”

“A little.”

It turns out Katya had hired a photographer. Trixie felt so small and lovely with Katya’s big hands around her waist. Trixie thrust out her chest, proud of the sparkling necklace that rested there.

The man grunted ‘good, good’ and pointed them towards the frozen waterfall. Trixie gathered up her skirts so they wouldn’t drag in the snow. She gasped as Katya literally swept her off her feet.

“I do feel like Cinderella now,” Trixie giggled. “This is my storybook wedding, right?”

“Only if I can be your crossdressing prince.”

“Duh.”

They spent fifteen more minutes laughing and posing as the photographer snapped shots. Children waved at them. Trixie waved back and tried to spot Adore’s pigtails, but the loud mouthed girl was nowhere to be seen.

Just then Katya’s face darkened. When she tightened her jaw like that, she looked much more like Brian than Katya.

Before Trixie could ask, two well groomed ladies approached them with their tiny poodles. They both had on mink coats and faces like they’d smelled something horrible.

“Privyet, Phi Phi. Privyet, Betty,” Katya said like there was a gun to the back of her head.

They burst into rapid Russian, each taking turns squeezing Brian’s arm and casting evil looks at Trixie. Their dogs yipped at her, and Trixie jumped back, almost slipping on the snow.

“It’s not polite to speak about my wife, Trixie, like she’s not there.”

The taller one gave her a hard once over: “Ve vhere just vondering vhy did you paint her face like that?”

“It’s hard vhen canvas is poor to paint pretty,” the smaller one quipped. “It’s not Brian’s fault.”

Trixie self consciously crossed her arms.

“Ladies, пожалуйста-”

Trixie recognize the word for ‘please’ from her language lesson this morning. She wished they would ‘please’ stop and go away.

“And vhy are you going to Америке for bride when there are so many Russian voman?” Betty continued, voice nasally and harsh.

“So many!”

“Are you educated at university?” Betty turned sharply to Trixie.

“N-no.”

“Ve could have set you up with someone who had big, Russian brains and breasts and beauty. A real voman not a child,” Betty pressed, not-so subtly running her hands over her own ample chest. Trixie wondered how that corset could hold together so much bullshit.

Still, the words stung like sharp darts into her fragile ego. Trixie deflated as they continued on and on, switching back to Russian and then to English. Katya just stood there, with her jaw locked, taking the abuse.

“It’s Hollywood making you think you need to go outside Russia. Phah! What do Americans have? Corrupting men’s brains with sexual fantasies about other men and children.”

Oh, great, now they’re going to start ranting about the liberal media, Trixie thought with a mental groan. How was it that two woman from Moscow sounded just like her Uncle, who had never set a “foot outta fertile, Texan soil?” The small-minded talk made Trixie’s stomach turn.

Brian took Trixie’s hand: “I would never want to marry someone like you, бля́ди, when I already have the most beautiful woman in the world.”

The two ladies gasped and clutched their furs, and Trixie didn’t need google translate to tell her Katya had just called them bitches. Wow, now that took some balls!

Katya grabbed Trixie’s hand and led her away.

“My crossdressing prince,” Trixie sniffled.

Trixie didn’t want to cry, but when they were back in the car, a couple of stupid tears dripped down her face anyways. Trixie cursed and tried to wipe them away. She knew Betty and Phi Phi were just jealous, but it still hurt. Trixie didn’t have a college degree or a perfect figure or know how to speak Russian. She was just some small, town girl from America that had gotten lucky.

“M-maybe they’re right,” she whispered as she wiped her cheeks. “I don’t deserve you.”

“No, don’t listen to them. Those Bitter Betties have been after me for years and years,” Katya tried to reassure her.

Trixie played with the diamond necklace between her gloved fingertips. It felt too tight around her throat. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“I- I don’t deserve any of this, and you’re going to get bored of me and send me back. You’ll find some beautiful, busty Russian, who knows how to do her face and cook and clean and- and” Trixie had worked herself up even more so that now she was sobbing.

“Shhh, Trixie, no-”

“I don’t want to go back to America. Please don’t make me go back. Please. How do you say that in Russian? I-I can’t remember. I have nowhere to go. Don’t send me back-”

“Trixie, no one’s sending you anywhere,” Katya said firmly as she took Trixie’s hands and squeezed. Trixie pressed her forehead against Katya’s, trying to swallow back the fear.

“I wanted you because I knew you’d see the real me. In fact, you’re the only person in the fucking world who knows who I really am. Everyone at work? They see Brian. You don’t. You see the truth.”

Trixie wiped her eyes, embarrassment now washing over her after her meltdown. “Ugh, I must’ve ruined my makeup.”

“You still look beautiful, and we’re already done with pictures, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Can we go home then?” Trixie asked, linking her arm with Katya’s.

“Да.”

—–

Thirty Minutes After Marital Contract

“I left a wedding gift on the bed,” Katya said.

Trixie’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the large box resting on the comforter.

“Open it while I get changed.” Katya pressed a kiss to her cheek and disappeared into the bathroom.

Trixie carefully undid the bow. Lying inside was a tiny, lace thong and a skimpy negligee. They were both a creamy off-white, like slutty re-imaginings of her wedding dress.

With a smirk, Trixie began undoing her wedding dress. She was careful not to let it pool on the ground, instead hanging it carefully in the closet. As she moved back towards the bed, she kicked off her underwear and undid her bra so she could change into the sexy set Katya had given her.

That wasn’t all that was in the box, though. Underneath the lingerie was some sort of harness. Trixie picked it up and inspected it closely. There were leg holes, most likely, and also a metal ring. Huh?

Before she could wonder any more, the bathroom door opened. Katya stood in the doorway with a full face of makeup and loose, flowing hair, which fell over her racy, red lingerie.

“You look gorgeous,” Katya breathed. The sight of her made Trixie’s stomach flutter.

“Right back atcha, wifey,” Trixie replied as she held up the harness in her hand. “But, uh, you want me to put this thing on?”

Katya shifted and looked at the carpet: “Uh, yeah, if you could.”

“This is for a strap on, right?” Trixie pressed, and Katya flushed a deep red. This wasn’t Trixie’s first time with a toy like this, though. She stepped into the harness and tightened it around her thick hips.

“Yeah, I um, I have the, uh, other part in the dresser,” Katya stammered. Trixie hadn’t seen her like this before. She crossed the room and took Katya’s hands.

“You sound nervous, baby. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not nervous, I’ve just…” Katya let out a breath. “I’ve never done this before?”

Trixie blinked. “How about this morning?”

“That doesn’t count, that was just rubbing. This is actual penetration.” Katya’s hands were sweaty in Trixie’s grip. “I’ve never let anyone…inside of me.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous…I’ll be gentle,” Trixie promised with a smirk, and Katya gratefully leaned in to kiss her.

Katya looked so lovely in her luxurious, blonde wig. Trixie appreciatively ran her hands down Katya’s sides and then rested it over the bulge in her red panties.

“So are you my little, wife now?” Trixie teased as she rubbed Katya’s cock through the lace.

“Mhm,” Katya played along. “You going to take care of me on our honeymoon? Be the honey to my moon?”

Trixie giggled as she rubbed the heel of her hand against Katya: “You’re so weird.”

Then she pressed Katya back against the bed. Trixie loved the way Katya’s hard, lean body felt against her soft curves. She wrapped her legs around Katya waist and slowly shifted, smirking as she saw how hard Katya was squirming.

Trixie leaned down, so her lips were right next to Katya’s ear: “You want me inside you, baby? Need me to spread open your pretty cheeks and finger you like you need? Hm?”

Katya only whimpered, so Trixie continued.

“Bet you’ve been waiting so long for me to stretch you open, baby. So wet and desperate for me. So needy.”

Trixie kissed her lips and then went to the drawer where she found the lube sitting right on top.

“Turn around. Want you on all fours,” Trixie ordered, and Katya immediately obeyed. Trixie got a rush from the power from bossing the usually powerful Russian around.

Trixie pulled down Katya’s panties and slicked up her fingers with lube, and then gently rubbed them against Katya’s rim. Katya made a little, whining noise and desperately thrust her hips back.

“Shhh,” Trixie soothed as she pushed one finger inside. Katya’s toes curled.

Trixie felt herself getting wet as she pushed another finger inside Katya, scissoring her open. She loved watching Katya’s face and how she parted her lips like she’d never felt anything this good before.

“Should I go slower?”

“Faster,” Katya growled, Russian accent more pronounced. She desperately canted her hips up into Trixie’s fingers.

“Steady,” Trixie warned as she slipped in a third finger and gripped her. Katya’s ass was smaller than hers but firmer. Trixie grasped it. Hard.

Katya’s body was all hard edges, but, under Trixie’s soothing touch, she softened. It was so intimate to feel Katya like this, to touch her where nobody else had.

“You’re doing so good, baby” Trixie praised in her ear and Katya keened at her words.

Trixie felt her thighs becoming moist as she watched Katya start to break under her. She almost wanted to finish her off like this, curling her fingers inside of her and pressing until Katya came so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk. But this was their wedding night, Katya deserved something more intimate.

“Where’s the other part?” Trixie asked, slowing her fingers. Katya pushed back against her, trying to chase the pace Trixie had set.

“It’s in the drawer on the left,” Katya breathed. Trixie pressed a kiss to her lower back as she pulled her fingers out.

“On your back, baby,” Trixie instructed before climbing off the bed. In the drawer was the final piece to the toy - the dildo itself. It was short, for a dildo’s standards. Though, it had a nice girth to it. It was also a lovely pale pink, perfect for Trixie.

Trixie stroked her fingers around the length as she attached it to the harness. Katya was watching her, over her shoulder, with half hooded eyes.

“Ready?” Trixie asked, running her fingers down Katya’s torso. She rubbed the toy against the curve of Katya’s ass. Trixie liked the way it easily slid against Katya’s lubricated skin, ready to sink inside her.

“Any slower, a-and we’d start to go backwards.”

“Don’t wanna be a rushing Russian.”

“Stupid,” Katya laughed and then sharply inhaled as Trixie pushed inside her. Trixie steadied Katya with her hands on her hips as the toy entered her. Trixie was as gentle as she could, careful not to force it in. It was thicker than Trixie’s fingers, but Katya easily pushed back.

“Trixie,” Katya moaned, voice breaking.

“Shhh, that’s it, baby. That’s it.”

“You feel so good,” Katya gasped. “Better than I ever imagined.”

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Trixie promised. She pulled her hips back then pushed forward, making Katya whine.

“Now who’s being a tease,” Katya said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t want to rush my Russian,” Trixie laughed.

She pressed a kiss to Katya’s shoulder and started thrusting shallowly. Although the toy was fake, it felt like an extension of Trixie. She feel it pressing against her pelvis as she moved her hips, an ever present weight. It was intimate in a way Trixie wasn’t expecting. Even though it wasn’t a part of her that was fucking Katya, there was so much more to it. Their chests were flush against each other, and Katya’s eyes were trusting as she stared up at her. This was so much more than the hurried fucking she did back in America.

“Faster, please,” Katya pleaded. Her lids were hooded, and her lips were parted in a sweet, little ‘o’. Her hands dug into Trixie’s shoulders as her pace quickened.

“So needy,” Trixie laughed. It was so hot fucking her wife open like this. Trixie gripped Katya’s thigh and pulled it around her waist, bringing them closer. Always closer.

“It feels so good,” Katya groaned. Katya looked more and more out of it the faster and harder Trixie went. Her eyes were glassy, like she was far away. The flexing of her fingers was the only thing that let Trixie know she was still grounded.

“Is this everything you’d hope it would be?” Trixie asked. She reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind Katya’s ear. God, she was so lucky. Katya kissed her and nodded.

“S-so close.”

“I’ll bring you there, baby, I’ve got you.”

Trixie sank down with a kiss, thrusting into Katya, She could feel Katya’s hard cock pressed against her own tummy.

Trixie leaned down to whisper against her lips: “Such a needy girl, aren’t you? Need me to fuck you like this, huh?”

Katya wrapped her legs tighter around Trixie’s back, moaning, and came untouched, with a sharp gasp. Trixie kissed her as the cum splattered all over her stomach.

Trixie pulled out of Katya, still dripping wet herself. She ran her hands down her cum-splattered chest and then licked her fingertips.

“Taste so good, baby,” Trixie purred. “Need you now just like you need me.”

She stood and sensually slipped the strap-on off. It had left red marks on her skin. Trixie rubbed the sore strap marks and then herself. Oh god, Trixie was aching for it.

Katya’s cock was spent, so Trixie crawled up the blonde’s chest instead, so she was right above her parted lips. She lowered herself down, so Katya’s hot breath was curling against her wetness. Katya gave her a tentative kitten lick.

“Any slower?” Trixie mocked, echoing Katya’s earlier words.

Katya reached up to grip her hips: “Give me a second to breathe- yes?”

“Breathe later.”

Trixie moved down, and she was down around Katya’s face. She moaned as Katya licked her, throwing her head back.

“I’ve never fucked someone I was married to,” Trixie giggled, words escaping from her parted lips. Or someone I cared about.

Katya pushed her back- “I’d hope not.”

Trixie moved down again, so Katya’s tongue was deep inside her again. She had no will power. Trixie needed to ride it out.

“K-katya,” Trixie gasped as she squeezed her thick thighs around Katya’s face, desperate for more.

Trixie came with a loud groan.

“If I knew married sex was this good, I would have gotten married years ago.”

Katya rolled onto her stomach: “Mh, glad you waited for me, and my grand internet proposal.”

“Is that your life motto- propose quick and fuck slow?” Trixie teased, stealing another kiss.

“And what if it was? What would that make me, huh?”

“Perfect.”

—–

One Week After Marital Contact

They fucked once in the morning and usually once at night, unless they fell asleep watching cartoons. They fucked in the kitchen and on the washing machine. Between the sheets and in the shower. They fucked slowly and then furiously.

The sex was only a small part of it though. Trixie started to become a part of this foreign world.

She easily bade Katya ‘poka’ in the mornings, sweetly grabbing her by the tie and kissing her. She told her ‘privyet’ when she came back home, proudly holding up a plate of (slightly misshapen) blinchiki. She listen to Katya’s stories of corrupt coworkers, sitting on her knee, and interjecting with ‘shto???’ at the right moments.

Trixie, despite her promise to explore the world, found herself trapped. She paced the rooms and named the objects to herself in Russian, She beat the rugs, polished the Matrushka, and tried to keep her mind busy with Language Learning Lab exercises.

Still, she sat by the window, watching the snow fall, and imagined going out.

“You’re not a prisoner,” Katya sighed as she saw Trixie gazing one morning.

“Then why do I feel like one?”

“Go out then, Trixie! Go and explore Moscow. You have the credit card I gave you?”

“Da,” Trixie nodded as she leaned up to adjust Katya’s tie. She still didn’t want to leave without Katya. Her Russian was broken and embarrassing.

Instead, she dusted their marriage photo on the mantle and changed the sheets. Trixie collapsed on the couch and flipped through Russian channels, settling on the cartoons because she could understand them the most.

Trixie saw her bag, the only thing she’d taken with her from America, pushed under the sofa. She picked it up and started to clean out old receipts and a piece of crumpled paper…

It was the drawing Adore had made for her on the plane! And at the bottom was an address! Scribbled on the side was ‘so you can teach me to dance.’

Trixie smiled and hugged it to her chest. She changed into a new, pink dress Katya had bought her. She pinned up her hair like she saw the girls do in Moscow. Katya had also given her a faux-fur coat.

She kissed her diamond necklace for good luck and set off into the world. Cars raced past, turning the snow into slush. Trixie let out an excited puff of white air. Everything was so new and exciting. Why hadn’t she left sooner?

Trixie pressed her hands against shop windows. She had a credit card in her purse and could buy anything in the world! It was nothing like being in America, where the poverty and heat of Texas was all she’d ever known.

Couples passed her, jabbering in Russian, and Trixie thought of Katya, stuck in an office chair and a suit she hated. Trixie was so grateful for her.

Trixie didn’t stop at any stores though. She kept going until she’d found Adore’s address, a huge mansion.

She knocked on the door.

“Privyet,” Trixie told the redheaded woman who answered. “Gde…um…Gge Adore?”

The lady muttered something in Russian and then called Adore’s name, voice echoing throughout the house. Trixie shifted in her boots and wished that she’d let Katya do her makeup this morning. It always looked better when she did it.

“Shto?” Came a petulant whine.

Adore’s face popped out, and her eyes widened when she saw Trixie. She threw her hands around her waist and then said something in rapid Russian to the toad-like woman.

“What did you say?” Trixie asked as she took off her coat and came inside.

“I told Ms. Ginger you were my dance instructor,” Adore said with with mischievous grin. “Come on- I want to show you something.”

She took her to what looked like a studio filled to the brim with dresses.

“What’s this?”

“My daddy’s private sewing room. He loves to make dresses for me and my Mommy. I wanted him to make some for you, but he didn’t know your measurements.”

Adore picked up a ruler and started to ‘measure’ Trixie.

“How’s your wife? Exactly how you’d pictured?”

Trixie bit her lip: “Mh, maybe a little different.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Good. Definitely good.”

Once Adore had taken her measurements they went to her playroom, which was a whole room of toys, to change into her dancing clothes.

“Wait- you can’t teach me here, Trixie.”

“Why-”

“Let’s go to the dance studio in the basement.”

And Trixie had thought Katya was rich? Mr. Haylock and his wife were clearly rolling in it.

Trixie had danced for fiteen years, so she still remembered enough to show Adore all the ballet positions. The studio had a bar and full length mirrors. For the first time in forever, Trixie found herself smiling back at her own face.

“What did Ginger mean dance instructor? We fired Laganja last-”

Roy’s face changed from frustration to relief when he saw Trixie.

“Oh, privyet, Mr. Haylock! Adore and I were just finishing up,” Trixie said. “I-I’m not charging you guys anything for this, so don’t worry.”

“I’m paying her with Russian lessons,” Adore whispered.

Roy only smiled and gave her a hug. Trixie wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve it, but she patted his back. Then they went to have borscht. Trixie had gotten accustomed to the red beet soup, though she didn’t quite like it. Adore made a face.

“Finish all of your borscht, Adore Delano Haylock, and I’ll give you ice cream.”

Trixie laughed as Adore shoveled it down by the spoon fulls. It’d been so long since she’d talked with other people, besides Katya. Everything they did or said made Trixie’s eyes light up.

“Thank you again,” Roy whispered as Adore went with Ginger to get ice cream. “This means so much to her. She loves dance but kept firing all the Russian instructors Courtney had found her. I think she’s still angry that we moved?”

“I didn’t love America. Hated it on the good days, but…” Trixie bit her lip. “You can’t help miss the only thing you’ve ever known.”

“Adore says you have a wife-”

“Husband. Well…uh, I mean,” Trixie stumbled around. “It’s a little complicated.”

“I’d love to have you and your complicated spouse over for dinner.”

“M-maybe.”

Adore ran back with a big bowl of ice cream, which she gave to Trixie: “Pinkie promise you’ll come back tomorrow? I didn’t get time to teach you the alphabet yet!”

Trixie gave her a hug and ‘pinkie promised.’ Ginger gave her a ride back to the apartment, and Trixie tried to speak to her in broken Russian, until the lady finally snapped and told Trixie she spoke English. Even that couldn’t bring down Trixie’s mood.

She made them omelettes for dinner and hummed the dance tune. When Katya came home, instead of the usual ‘privyet,’ Trixie threw herself around her.

“Wow, someone had a good day?” Katya laughed and kissed her. “What happened?”

How was it in Texas that she’d forced herself to forget dance, to bury that dream, but in Russia she felt liberated? She wished that Katya could be as free here as she did.

She leaned her head against Katya’s, trying to tell her all that telepathically. Instead, she said- “I think I’ve found myself a job as a dance teacher. I’m just getting paid in Russian lessons, but it’s worth it.”

“That’s my smart wife!” Katya exclaimed. “So proud of you. You’ll be ready for this dinner party in a week, da?”

“Are all those bitter Bettys going to be there?”

“They can’t hurt you,” Katya promised.

“But they’ll try their best.”

——

Dinner Party From Hell

In their first contact, Katya had messaged her- ‘I have an important dinner party in two weeks, and I need a wife to advance in the social ladder.’

So…this was it.

Trixie was in an elegant gown that Roy (thanks to Adore’s begging) had designed for her. The silhouette of the purple gown accentuated Trixie’s curves. She felt like a Hollywood starlet.

She mouthed the polite Russian phrases that she’d learned over and over again, but she had such a shitty memory.

“Relax,” Katya whispered as she adjusted Trixie’s diamond necklace. “You’re going to be brilliant, baby. All you have to do is laugh at their shitty jokes and look like a goddess, which you do-”

“Wow, way to make me feel like some plastic accessory,” Trixie snapped. The nerves were getting to her.

“Alaska is the only one you really have to impress. She’s Aaron’s wife, and he’ll listen to Alaska’s opinion.”

“I know! Alaska is the name you keep saying every day,” Trixie muttered. “Alaska this and Alaska that.”

Katya pulled her in by the waist, as if to kiss her, but whispered instead: “Shhh, relax.”

Trixie couldn’t relax. She felt as though all the Russian she’d learned was slipping from her mind. Trixie tapped her foot the whole car ride to the restaurant. Her anxiety made her have to go, further adding to her discomfort.

She’d pictured Alaska to be another Russian hag, but she was gorgeous. She looked like she belonged on an advertisement for luxurious hotels. Her dress was made of nothing but Swarovski Crystals, but her gleaming eyes were her best accessory.

“Privyet, Katya!” Alaska beamed and kissed both cheeks before turning to her. “Privyet, Trixie.”

She’d almost forgotten how to say hello. The words caught in her throat. Aaron, suave in a suit, firmly shook both of their hands. The two of them looked like the poster children for ‘Russian Lifestyles.’

“And…how are you?” Alaska asked in heavily accented English.

“Хорошо,” Trixie replied even though she really meant terrible.

“Oh, wow. Your Russian is so good,” Alaska praised, but her tight lips seemed to suggest otherwise.

Trixie’s heart clenched as Alaska walked over to the other wives. They were all speaking in rapid Russian with diamond rings on their hands big enough to be paper weights. Each of them glanced at Trixie like she was a lost maid. But she only had to impress Alaska, right? So who gave a shit what they thought?

She tried to say in Russian: “What are we having for dinner?”

Alaska just stared at her until she felt stupid for even trying. Trixie crossed her hands. Katya was talking to Aaron, glancing over at her, and Trixie gave a weak smile, which didn’t reach her eyes.

Trixie shifted uncomfortably. The constant nervousness was not helping her bladder. She really had to pee, but didn’t want to ask Alaska where the bathroom was. While Aaron was briefly greeting another guest, Katya pointed her to the ‘туалет.’

She went to the bathroom and locked the door. Could she just stay here all night?

Trixie turned on her phone as she sat down on the toilet. She had two missed messages from Roy.

Can you come over for dinner? -R

Adore really wanted to meet your spouse -R

Maybe tomorrow -T

At a dinner party rn -T

Have a fun night! -R

If I make it through this night, Trixie thought. She didn’t know how to fit in with these Bitter Bettys. She didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

Trixie went back to find the table covered in cold platters. Where was the bread bowl? All she could see were pickle slices and fish eggs. Her stomach turned.

Katya protectively rested her arm behind Trixie’s shoulder, and she gratefully leaned in.

‘I want to go home’, Trixie wanted to say.

“How much longer?” She asked instead.

“Just until dessert.”

But dessert didn’t come until after the first course of potatoes and the second course of meat and the third course of more fucking meats. There was food everywhere, but nothing Trixie wanted to eat. Everyone was talking, but she was staring at her phone, wishing she could disappear.

Alaska leaned across the table: “Trixie- vhere are you from?”

“Uh, Texas? A little town.”

“And how do you like Russia?”

Trixie tried to think of how to say ‘it’s beautiful’ in Russian, but the phrase slipped her mind. She opened her mouth and then closed it, feeling dumb.

“Snow,” Trixie finally sputtered out instead.

Alaska laughed, but it sounded more like she was laughing at Trixie then with her. She played with Aaron’s tie as she leaned in and whispered something into his ear. Aaron snickered.

Wow, way to be subtle, Trixie thought as she crossed her arms.

When they came home that night, Trixie buried her face into Katya’s neck and cried. She felt like she’d failed her.

“You just asked me to do one thing a-and I couldn’t,” Trixie sobbed. “Just ship my dumb ass back to America.”

“Shhh, no one’s being shipped anywhere. Stop saying that. You tried your best, and that’s all I care about.”

Katya drew them a hot, bubble bath, and Trixie relaxed into her arms. Here, at least, she felt safe.

“I didn’t bring you here just for that stupid party, Trixie,” Katya reassured her. “There’ll be more and more of those.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I wanted to share my truth with someone. Someone who wouldn’t judge me like they all do.”

Trixie sniffled: “Judgmental bitches are universal, huh?”

“Except you, Trixie. You don’t judge me.”

“Stop saying things like that,” Trixie giggled as she gathered bubble up between her fingertips. “It’ll just make me fall in love with you.”

“Perfect.”

——

The Dinner Party From Heaven

Katya shifted in her dress, adjusting the silver straps, and Trixie kissed her. Despite her nerves, Katya seemed much more comfortable in heels than dress shoes.

“Are you sure they won’t care?”

Trixie squeezed Katya’s hands: “Don’t you trust me?”

“Unfortunately.”

Trixie smacked her arm playfully then pressed a careful kiss to her lips, making sure not to smudge their makeup.

“They all know about you already, and they don’t care. Adore just really wants to meet you.”

Katya smiled softly.

“Why does she want to meet me so bad? Is it because you’re constantly gushing about me?”

“Mhm, constantly,” Trixie assued. “My beautiful, rich wife who rescued me from America. It’s like a fairytale.”

Katya seemed more assured now. With a final check to make sure they had everything they needed, the couple headed out of the house.

When they got to the Haylock’s place, it was the wife who answered the door and not Ginger. She was dripping in jewels as usual, and greeted them with a bright grin and kisses to their cheeks.

“Privyet, it’s so good to finally meet you,” Courtney gushed. “You both look beautiful. Let me take your coats and you can go to the dining room. Adore has been so excited all day.”

They had barely begun shrugging off their jackets when the sound of small feet running through the halls drew their attention. Adore rounded the corner, her eyes lighting up when she saw them.

“Yay, I thought I heard you!” Adore stood by her mother’s side and eyed Katya closely.

“Trixie, I think your wife is prettier than you are,” she said in a serious tone. “I bet she wouldn’t wear sweatpants in public.”

“Adore!” Courtney reprimanded, but Trixie laughed.

“It’s okay. Adore, you didn’t even say hello to Katya. I brought her all the way here so you could finally meet her.”

“Oh, yeah. Privyet, Katya,” Adore said, turning her attention to her. Katya smiled shyly.

“Privyet, Adore, I’ve heard so much about you,” Katya replied.

“Why don’t we continue this in the dining room? Roy’s just finishing up setting the table,” Courtney offered. At the mention of her father Adore perked up and grabbed Trixie’s hand.

“C’mon, my daddy made vegan empanadas, they’re my favorite,” Adore gushed as she pulled Trixie along.

Everything that had gone wrong at Katya’s dinner party seemed to go so right at the Haylock’s. Everyone was at ease, conversation flowing in both Russian and English. It turned out Courtney was a vegan, so Trixie didn’t have to worry about avoiding meat at the dinner table.

Plus, Katya looked so happy. She kept tucking her hair behind her ear and grinning, her posture more at ease. There was no need for her to pretend she was someone she wasn’t here. There was no one to impress. It was just two families gathered together at a table enjoying each other’s company.

As Roy and Courtney got up to go grab the ice cream, Trixie took Katya’s hand under the table and squeezed.

“Are you having a good time?” Trixie asked. Katya leaned in and kissed her softly.

“You have better friends than I do,” Katya replied. “So yes, I’m having a great time.”

“Those aren’t your friends, they’re necessary evils,” Trixie shot back.

“Mh, true. But if it was not for them, I would never have met you. So there is some good that comes out of having to impress them,” Katya replied. Her eyes flickered to Trixie’s necklace, shining proudly between her clavicles.

Katya looked so soft in the low light of the room. Trixie was struck again by how lucky she was. How could such a perfect person want her? Sitting in such an extravagant house, finally feeling free for the first time in her life. It was like a dream.

“How do you say I love you in Russian?” Trixie blurted out.

“Я люблю тебю,” Katya slowly said, and Trixie shivered because she recognized those words from Katya’s late night whispering. These were the words she’d said at three am when she thought Trixie was asleep.

“Ya,” Trixie slowly repeated as she leaned in for a kiss. “Leblue tebyew.”

If Trixie had pronounced it wrong, she’d have a long time to practice.

#trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trans!katya #lesbian au #mail order bride au #squeaky #stella #rpdr fanfiction #contacting russia #submission

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