The ninth floor of the Soviet State Library was reserved solely for the top brass of the Politburo. Since yesterday he was part of that elite and he did not waste any time to pay a visit.
The lift girl tried not look at him as yet another sick deviant, but her face could hardly hide her damning judgment as she entered the secret code and sent the elevator shuddering upwards.
Rumours about the pillaging of pornography all over the Union had first come to his ear when he enlisted in the Red Army. It had proven a big incentive to rise through the ranks. He wanted to lay eyes on this famed collection.
The elevator juddered to a stop and the girl opened up the metal framework. His first impression was one of disappointment. The floor did not have the majestic grandeur of the public parts of the library. No marble columns, no Bolshevik busts, not even mahogany bookcases. Instead, between the grey, wondowless walls stood row upon row of metal shelves on which rested randomly placed books and film cans in all forms and sizes.
He took one of the books in his hands. It was an Eastern tome, containing hundreds of bondage etchings in bright colours. Another volume had photographs in it of American housewives and their illicit affairs with black gardeners. Not until he leafed through a third book did he finally found what he had been looking for all these years. Things so depraved the smut literally jumped from the page.
As he dropped his pants to his knees and started massaging his manhood, he no longer paid attention to the lift girl watching from behind the elevator framework.
The Americans would be pleased to know what the incumbent Soviet leader could be corrupted with.
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