Combining Business and Pleasure 4

Martin Conradi was a businessman, not a gangster boss, and so, Sato’s primary job wasn’t to be so close he could fight of a potential assassin. Instead, he was just close to the pool, leaning against the railing, and observing him from the distance as he was dictating something to Babette.

He had fully internalized the stoic nature people expected from a Japanese, but that didn’t mean he was indifferent towards the other sex. He definitely enjoyed the sight of some of the bikini-clad women around, with the blonde bombshell Conradi had hired as a secretary being one of them, but none of them really overwhelmed him.

Then, it was as if he had got an epiphany.

The woman approached the pool area at exactly the same moment the sun appeared from behind a cloud right behind her, and for a second, her dress was like transparent, allowing him to see her as if she was just in her bra and panties. The effect vanished as she walked down the stairs, looking around before sitting down on a deckchair close to Conradi and Babette, starting to read a book. Sato let his eyes wander over her. She was a curly blonde, and the short moment with the sun shining through her dress had showed him she had a buxom figure, though now, he saw the dress was rather modest. Also, she was wearing black-rimmed glasses.

Some minutes later, Conradi obviously had decided to have a break, for he closed his folder, and Babette got up, stretching her back, so she thrust out her breasts, only clad in her bikini top. Then, she took off her wrap skirt and pranced towards the pool, with Conradi’s eyes resting on her derriere.

Sato went over to his boss: asking him if he needed anything would allow him a closer look at the woman. She was pretty, and the glasses even emphasized that impression. Sato guessed she was in her 30ies, and he now could even read the title of the book: »Death on the Rhine«, by Joanne von Gröbern. Sato had read the book, and he was considering talking to the blonde when he heard a familiar voice in his back:

»Is it early enough for saying ›Konnichi wa‹ now?«

Sato turned around and slightly bowed towards Jeb who had arrived together with Davenport. Both now wore brightly coloured Hawaii shirts, and none of them looked good in it, though Davenport’s surely had cost five times the sum his bodyguard had paid for his.

»In the morning, we say ›Ohayo Gozaimasu‹!«, he answered the question, but Jeb looked at something behind the Japanese. It was Babette, returning from the pool.

»Ah, I like them most when they are hot and wet!«, Davenport commented, and Babette dropped a gracious curtsey before she sat down behind her laptop again. Since the American wanted to go on further details about the brewery deal, she had to skip the dictate and write protocol instead.

Sato dropped the idea of talking to the blonde. He still had nothing to do, but starting a flirt whilst at least Jeb was watching made him feel uncomfortable, and he returned to his old post. Luckily, Jeb was trying to flirt with one of the waitresses, leaving him enough leisure to look at the blonde.

However, he still was too much a bodyguard not to notice that something in er behaviour was strange: she rarely turned the pages, and though she was now directly under the sun, she didn’t change her seat. After a while, Sato was sure: that woman was observing Davenport and his boss.

***

Hannah woke up to the faint rhythm of some Techno music, and she reflexively reached for her radio clock to turn it off, but found out her hands didn’t obey her. She wanted to wipe her eyes, but now, as she blinked, everything remained black.

»Mhm? Uuhhmmmmm! Mmhhmmph! Hhrrrmm!«

She screamed into her gag as the memory came back like punches: the attack of the Asian woman: being forced to gag herself: the chloroforming. She again tried to move her arms and legs, only to figure out she was tightly bound.

Hannah was still gagged the way she had been before, her tongue forced to touch her worn panties and sockets, with the tape wrapped over her mouth. In addition, a cloth hood now covered her head, light enough to not block her breathing, but cutting off all light. She was sitting on some upholstered chair with her wrists now being cuffed behind the backrest and fixed to something heavy. Her ankles and knees were tied to some strange footrests that kept her legs spread. For a moment, Hannah was reminded of a gynaecologist’s chair, but she was sitting upright, and to her relief, she was still fully dressed.

»Uuuhhmmm! Mhhmmmmm!«

Hannah continued to scream and thrash, but to no avail. Either, her kidnappers wanted to further torture her by silence, or they just weren’t around. So, the faint music was her only companion in her dark and terrifying ordeal.

***

Leonora wasn’t shy about her body, and she regularly went to a sauna, and so, when Karim had requested her to take off her clothes, she had done so without hesitation. Now, clad only in her panties and wrapped in one of the big towels, she left the small changing box, and he led her to the table where she had to lie down on her belly, her face in the oval opening on top of the lie.

Karim opened the towel and started on her back. The massage felt good, but after a while, she had to admit that there was nothing special to it. Then, she felt something strange: whilst his hands were now at her armpits and upper arms, still something gently massaged her shoulders.

»How many hands do you have?«

»Unfortunately, just two, but I brought in my little helpers! What you are feeling is a pressure wave vibrator! Do you like it, Leonora?«

The word »vibrator« made her think of something in her nightstand, but this was more like a pad, and she now could hear the faint buzzing. It felt good on her shoulders, and she told Karim who continued kneading her upper arms and massaged the sensitive skin of her armpits.

»That’s good, for more of those will come to work, peu a peu!«

He further explained to her that, once he had done some »groundwork« on one of her tense regions, he would leave the area to one of his little helpers, so he could get to the next zone. When he had finished her arms and had placed two more oscillating pads at her armpits, Leonora asked herself whether the massage would only be at her back, and her breath slightly accelerated.

Karim did her lower back, and when he had placed another vibrator there, he asked Leonora whether she wanted the full program.

»Since my husband is paying – yes!«

His hands wandered to the sides of her hips, and then, she felt his fingers hook into the waistband of her panties. Leonora let out a fluttering breath, not sure if she should protest as he slowly peeled the garment down her legs. His index fingers brushed over the back of her legs, stopping shortly at the backs of her knees and massaging her there, which tickled a bit, but felt pleasant. Then, as he had put her panties away, she felt his hands on her buttocks.

»Most people don’t know that our backside can be a herd of tension!«

His fingers now clawed into her buttocks, kneading them in a way she no longer could oppress a faint sigh.

»Don’t worry, Leonora, I will only remove the tension of your soul, not the tightness of your lovely derriere!«, Karim promised as he continued working wonders on her butt.

Leonora’s giggle sounded like that of a little girl.

***

Babette was used to being looked at, but in Davenport’s case, even his looks felt touchy. He had positioned himself in a way the screen of the laptop wasn’t blocking the view on her bikini-clad breasts, and Babette was very aware of the fact that having been in the cool water had made her nipples grow hard.

Luckily, the two men only discussed some minor details, and after some hour, the American left, warning Babette of the risk of getting nasty tan lines if she didn’t sunbathe topless.

»If you don’t want everybody and his brother stare at you – my suite has got a terrace!«

Even Conradi seemed a little annoyed when he smiled apologetically at her. Then, he asked her whether she would mind coming with him, to his suite.

»I have some more handwritten notes that have to be sorted and typed!«, he explained, and Babette followed him, hanging the skirt over her arm as the bikini was still slightly damp. Conradi didn’t seem to mind, he just had a quick look if his wife was inside before he let Babette enter the cabin.

»We are having an early lunch, after her massage! So, I have to meet with her at the dining room at 11:30!«

Since it was shortly after 11, Babette knew that at least, he couldn’t try anything that would last too long. However, when Conradi also checked his watch, he suddenly became hasty.

»Damned, I forgot the reservation, and I also have to change! Please, sit down there, I will be back in a jiffy!«

She sat on the corner of a leather office chair whilst he picked some clothes and withdrew into the bathroom that was as big as Babette’s entire cabin, however, he once came out in just his shorts because he had »forgotten« his trousers. Babette had to admit that for a man his age, he was in quite a good shape.

Redressed, he then opened the safe in the cupboard, put the folder inside and took out a bigger one, placing it on the desk. Having closed the safe again, he took Babette’s hand.

»I really have to go now! Babette, can you be a darling and sort out the notes by yourself? I am referring to the negotiations with the Anderssons!«

When Babette agreed, he gently kissed her hand, and after a last longing look at her boobs, he left her alone. Babette balled her fist and let out an oppressed »Yeah!«.

Since the folder didn’t just contain the notes, she would perhaps find some of the evidence she was after. Sure, Conradi would not be so careless as to unknowingly hand her the equivalent of a written confession, but even a few hints on irregular business could be a huge step forward.

»And I didn’t even have him touch my breasts in exchange!«

She opened the folder and rummaged through it. She would take out the notes and then make photos of the remaining files, so she could examine them later. The rustling of the paper drowned the steps on the carpeted floor, and when she sensed a shadow, it was already too late. A hand clamped over her mouth, and before she could even moan, something pinched her neck, and she collapsed on the chair.

***

Johanna’s heartbeat calmed down. When Conradi and Davenport had raised from their seats, she had feared that they had noticed her. However, they had withdrawn, and her only problem was that so far, she could only report to Hannah that Conradi intended to get into the beer business in Chicago.

She closed the book that was part of her disguise. Originally, she had brought a copy of her own novel with her, for she was sure that if she had it with her, nobody would assume that she was Joanne von Gröbern. Now, she had considered it an excellent requisite because she could talk about plot details without to actually have to read it.

Now, closer to noon, the pool area was rather crowded, and so, Johanna didn’t notice the man who followed her as she went for Hannah’s cabin. She knocked twice, but the journalist wasn’t there, though they had agreed upon meeting.

»Maybe, she was haunted by memories of the assault and has decided to go where more people are around!«

Not too concerned, she left – only to bump into a man, so she dropped her book. The man apologized and grabbed it from the floor. He had a slight accent, and Johanna, who had worked with Asians, could distinguish the most familiar ethnicities and knew he was Japanese.

»No problem, Sir! I am unhurt, and the pages are still in the right order, too!«

He rewarded the lame joke with a fine smile and looked at the book’s cover.

»›Death on the Rhine‹ – I read it last year! I don’t want to spoiler, but there’s a fascinating plot twist in the last act!«

Johanna smiled, not only because she knew that the man could not spoil anything to her, but because she felt flattered by the praise. He handed her the book with a slight bow, and then, he cleared his throat before adding:

»Please excuse my directness, but you are having a resemblance to the author!«

»I hope you are meaning it as a compliment!«, Johanna replied, overplaying her slight nervosity at being recognized with a forced smile. The Japanese also smiled, and he looked at her eyes when he said:

»To both you and Joanne von Gröbern – though even more to you! It must be your smile!«

Johanna of course smiled from a mixture of joy and embarrassment, and a fine pink rash appeared on her cheeks. The photo on the book cover was black and white and showed her in her trademark black clothes and with what a friend had mocked as a »thousand yards stare«. In addition, the picture was five years old, when she had been 28 and glad to have published her first novel.

After what had been an outburst of emotions for a Japanese, the man bowed and withdrew. Still smiling, Johanna walked towards her room, not noticing that the man was still following her.

***

»Oh! My! God!«

Leonora was able to oppress these words, but she knew that her previous moaning and sighing had told Karim how much she  was enjoying the treatment. He had even assured her that his rooms were soundproof, so she could let it out.

After the massage of her buttocks, another vibrating pad had been placed there, and he had worked his way down her thighs and to her knees where he had again given a tender massage to her sensitive skin before two small pads had taken over, allowing Karim to go for her feet.

Leonora wasn’t ticklish, and she had always considered foot massages to be nothing more than quite convenient, but now, the strong, yet gentle fingers kneading her insteps and brushing over her soles sent shivers through her entire body, shivers that added with the slight stimulation from the vibrating pads.

Leonora had slightly writhed on the table, not noticing how she was clenching her fists, and when the treatment was finally over, she felt both disappointed and relieved that the 90 minutes were over and that Karim’s specialty obviously didn’t include her front side, too. The relieve was due to the fact that if she had turned onto her back, he would have seen her hardened nipples, and the glistering between her legs.

She quickly showered and redressed, feeling revitalized and relaxed in a way she hadn’t felt for a long time. When she thanked Karim and asked when she could come again, the Berber checked his schedule and marked her for the next afternoon. Then, he smiled at her.

»Leonora – I think you forgot something when you got dressed!«

In his hand, he held her panties, and Leonora blushed. At the same time, she felt the urge to tell the man that he should keep them as a souvenir, a thanks for an incredible experience. Then, however, she took the garment and put it back on whilst Karim discreetly turned away, watching her in one of the mirrors.

When she approached the dining room, Leonora felt another feeling tingle inside her, and she thought that she would see if she could persuade her husband to have a special dessert at their suite after the meal.

***

Hannah had been able to roughly count how much time had passed since her awakening, for the music had been loud enough to distinguish different songs, and she was sure that she was now here for some two or three hours. Each time there had been a short pause between two songs, she had screamed through her gag, but to no avail.

She had also explored her bonds, and she wasn’t sure if what she had felt was good or bad: the handcuffs had an upholstery that would prevent her from getting bruised, and the straps tying her legs were tight, but also seemed somehow padded. It indicated that her kidnappers didn’t want to hurt her physically, but it also meant that they had prepared for this.

»How’s that possible? I mean, Conradi and Davenport didn’t know that I was after them!«

The music now stopped, and to Hannah’s surprise, no new song started. Instead, she could hear some indistinct murmur, and she was catching breath to once again scream through the panties and socks packing when she felt a grip on her arm, and a voice she recognized as that of the Asian hissed:

»No sound, or you’ll regret!«

So, her collected air for the scream left her as a few pants, and then, she heard the background murmur cease. A few moments later, her arm was released, and the lace of her hood was opened. When it came off her head, Hannah blinked at the bright light around her.

When her eyes had adjusted to being able to see again, she looked at her prison, being surprised that the dungeon was a small fitness studio. She was facing a glass wall through which she could see an empty room with mats on the floor, and the strange chair she had been strapped to turned out to be an adductor press; obviously, they had put the weights on maximum, so Hannah couldn’t move her legs.

Beside the woman stood the man she had called Sammy, and he showed a lewd grin. The Asian stepped closer and bowed slightly.

»I forgot to introduce myself! I am Yema, and the Gentleman behind me is Sammy! Now, Hannah, will you be a good girl?«

Hannah stared daggers at her and her chest heaved, but she didn’t make a sound, for she wasn’t in a good position for negotiations. Yema pointed over her shoulder, at the adjacent room:

»I hope the Zumba class didn’t bother you too much! We tried to make this room soundproof, but Sammy says that it doesn’t work too well, because of ventilation. So, it means that we will have to keep you gagged, unless we are around. Speaking of that – Sammy, a hand, please!«

Hannah mewed anxiously as the man approached her whilst Yema drew her cell phone. Sammy cupped her breasts – and then, without warning, he pinched and twisted her nipples.

»Hrrrrrmmmm!«

The girl wailed through her gag, and she reared up in her seat. On Yema’s order, Sammy mauled her nipples two more times, and Yema looked at her display. Then, she raised her hand, and he stopped, though his hands remained on her boobs.

»I just measured the decibel you can produce – forgive us the rather harsh method, but if we had asked you to scream, you could have faked it! Now, it seems that we have to improve your gag before we leave!«

With her nipples still painfully tingling, and with Sammy’s hands massaging her breasts, now no longer hurting her, but nevertheless appalling, Hannah had barely listened to the Asian. She was panting, and tears had formed at the corners of her eyes. Yema put her cell phone away and told Sammy to let her go. The man kneaded her breasts for one last time before he reluctantly obeyed.

»Now, we have 50 minutes left before the Aerobic lesson starts! So, if you promise to behave, we can allow you some accommodations. First of all, do you need to go to the bathroom?«

Hannah, forcing herself to remain calm, nodded. It wasn’t yet urgent, but to get her there, they had to release her, and perhaps, this would offer an opportunity to escape.

Sammy now produced a long iron stick, with a leather strap dangling from one end. This strap, he buckled around Hannah’s neck, tight enough it felt inconvenient, though she still could breathe, and he held the stick like a leash whilst Yema untied her legs and released her from the cuffs.

Since she made no attempts to aide her, Hannah took a few deep breaths before she got to her feet. She staggered, but managed to stay upright, and she resisted the urge to rip off the tape in front of her lips. Though her limbs were free, she would be no match for the man, and Yema sure still had her gun, though she wasn’t showing it.

With the stick, Sammy led her to a corner where a small toilet was behind a door. This door had a small cutout at its frame, so the stick had not to be removed, and Hannah still could close the door, though she noticed that there wasn’t a lock.

The room measured less than a square meter, and instead of a window, it only offered an air vent. Hannah brushed over the tape of her gag, but she knew that if she screamed, Sammy would enter within a second, and even if she could alert someone, she would get punished before. Her still throbbing nipples told her that her captors weren’t squeamish when it came to hurting her.

So, she took the opportunity to relief herself unchaperoned, and then, she stepped back into the fitness room where Yema had meanwhile placed a bottle of water on one of the benches.

»I will now ungag you – any false moves and you’ll get punished, and if you speak or scream, you’ll have to suck your drink through your gag!«

Since she was gagged with her thong and sockets, Hannah decided not to provoke punishment, and she waited for Yema to unwind the tape. Then, as she wanted to rip  the gag from her mouth, the Asian stopped her:

»You better place them on the desk instead of throwing them onto the floor! It’s a bit dusty, and you sure don’t want to taste that!«

Hannah shuddered, but she did as she was told, panting and licking her lips as the vile tasting packing had finally come out. Then, she greedily drank, and Yema said in an apologetic, almost friendly tone:

»You will be fed in the evening, and I know that you have many questions! So, here’s the deal: each time you are ungagged, you will be allowed one question, and I will answer it as honest and detailed as possible!«

Hannah, now slightly refreshed, felt the urge to scream, throw the bottle at her, or ask her if she was completely mad. However, she could see the small bulge in Yema’s frock, and she knew it was the gun. And Sammy was still holding the stick. So, she oppressed her rage and fear, and, after a few seconds of pondering, she asked:

»Who is behind this – Davenport, Conradi, or both?«

Yema seemed slightly surprised.

»Neither – just me and my team!«

Abashed, Hannah opened her mouth, but Sammy tightened the grip on the stick and Yema drew the gun.

»You had your question, and I answered it! Now, let’s get back to your seat!«

The look in her eyes was so threatening that the muzzle of the gun looked kind in comparison. So, Hannah staggered back to the adductor press and sat down, allowing Yema to tie her wrists, knees and ankles. The Asian took care the bonds were tight, but not painfully tight. Then, whilst Sammy removed the neck collar, Yema fetched a bag. In the other hand, she held the still damp socks and panties.

»Now, if you allow me to gag you without useless defiance or babble, I will leave you without the hood! Deal?«

The idea of having to spend more hours in blindfolded darkness horrified the girl, and so, she nodded. Then, she gulped and prepared herself for the inevitable. Yema started with the panties, wedging the damp garment deep into her oral cavity, and stuffing the sockets on top. Hannah chortled, and she tried to block the gag from getting into her throat as Yema pushed against it. Only when she couldn’t get the packing any further, she reached for her bag and produced a silky scarf she tightly tied between her lips. Though soft, the cloth cut into the corners of her mouth, but Yema was far from being finished. The next item was a red rubber ball, with straps dangling from both sides. The ball was forced between her teeth, pressing against the gag already inside her mouth, and the straps were buckled tightly at her nape.

»Mph!«

»If you say so!«, Yema stated and pulled the straps one notch tighter. Then, she reached for a crumpled beige pantyhose, and she pulled it over the girl’s head. It only blurred her vision a little, but when the crotch part touched her nose, she sensed that this garment had been worn before.

»Now, I need a strong man’s help!«

Sammy took a roll of wide black tape, and it made Hannah shudder when she saw that it was so sticky the man needed some strength to pull off an edge. He wound five rounds over her mouth, pulling tight, so Hannah’s lower face already felt numb. At least, the pantyhose would prevent the tape from ripping off her skin when it would come off. Sammy then once again cupped her breasts and felt for Hannah’s nipples.

»You want another test?«

»Not yet – but you can take care of her T-Shirt and shorts, now you are there!«

Hannah gasped when the T-Shirt was ripped from her body, leaving her in just her bra, panties and shorts. The latter, the man also ripped, staring at the black triangle of cloth between her legs. Hannah reflexively pressed deeper into her seat, feeling the artificial leather cling to her bare buttocks, for she was wearing a thong again.

»The bra too?«, Sammy asked, but Yema shook her head.

»Later! It’s her first day, allow her to adjust to her new life!«

With a last hungry look at her scantily clad body, Sammy left, followed by Yema. Once the door fell shut behind them, Hannah pulled on her bonds and screamed through her gag. The humming she could produce was frustratingly faint, and the massive gag caused her to be quickly out of breath. Whimpering, she decided to try again if the Aerobic class would appear.

***

Martin Conradi was used to his wife being either a bit cold or slightly annoyed towards him, and he was pleased she didn’t show any of these attitudes when they met for lunch. In fact, she seemed not only in a good mood, but was outright playful: during the hors d’oeuvre, he felt her foot brush over his calf, and the way she was eating her Grissini stick was ambiguous the least. Smiling, he asked:

»Maybe, I should order oysters instead of the salmon?«

Leonora smiled in a way he hadn’t seem for years, and she purred:

»Maybe, you should also order some pineapple juice!«

Conradi had been teased by the sight of Babette’s boobs during the morning, and by the fact that the bikini-clad blonde had then been in his room. And now, either her massage or the fresh sea air had caused his wife to become horny. So, they spontaneously skipped the rest of the lunch and, holding hands for the first time in years, they left for their suite.

In their boisterous mood, none of them recognized the faint noises coming from the bedroom, and so, when they entered, the sight hit them like a sledgehammer.

Babette was lolling in the sheets, her arms stretched to her sides as if she expected to embrace them, but Conradi was more caught by the sight of her bare boobs, as ample and gravity-defying as he had ever imagined them. He thought that Leonora had read his most secret thoughts, and when the slap hit his cheek, he only noticed it after the door had fallen shut when his outraged wife stormed out of the cabin.

Then, he more and more realized that Babette wasn’t lolling lasciviously, but writing in the bonds tying her wrists to the posts of the French bed, and her eyes were big as saucers as she was staring at him. Her lips looked strangely tight, and she produced high-pitched moans and grunts.

»B-Babette, wha-what happened?«

»Mmhhmmm! Uuuhmmmmm!«

Now, he realized that some transparent tape was sealing the blonde’s mouth, and that this wasn’t a dream come true, but a veritable crime. As the blood returned above his waist, he staggered towards the bathroom and returned with a pair of nail scissors. He was unable to take his eyes from her naked breasts, but he managed not to cut the girl as he freed her right wrist from what seemed to be one of his silk ties. With a gurgling sound, Babette began to feel for an edge of the tape, and Conradi released her other hand. Then, he turned for her legs that were tied at the ankles and fixed to the lower bedframe. Whilst doing so, he noticed that the blonde was still wearing her turquoise bikini bottom.

When her legs were free, Babette had managed to remove the tape from her mouth, and she now was eager to work something white and big from her mouth. When the sopping gag landed on the bed, Conradi recognized it as a pair of panties – the lacy French Knickers Leonora had worn the day before. Babette croaked and panted. Then, she opened her mouth, and Conradi clamped his hand over it.

»P-Please, don’t scream!«

»Mmhmmph!«

The girl’s ample boobs heaved, but she then nodded, and he withdrew his hand. Then, realizing she still was topless, she crossed her arms in front of her boobs, blushing.

»What the hell happened?«, Conradi once again asked. Then, his eyes fell on the folder on the desk, open and with sheets lying around. Forgetting about his secretary, he rummaged through the papers, letting out a sigh of relief.

»Seems that everything’s still there – whatever the intruder wanted, he didn’t find it!«

He turned around for the girl that had now covered herself with the bed sheet, and he forced himself to look calm.

»Babette, I know what an ordeal this must have been for you, and I am blaming no one but myself! However, could you please refrain from calling the Police? A scandal is the least I can need now!«

He looked at her and added:

»Of course, you may now go to your room, and I will double this month’s salary, but please – don’t call the Police!«

Babette looked at him, and she nodded.

»We are in international waters – there is no Police! Can you – can you lend me some clothes?«

She had seen that her attacker had placed her sandals and her straw hat neatly beside her laptop, but her bikini top and her skirt were missing. The relieved Conradi handed her one of his shirts, since Babette would not fit into one of Leonora’s dresses. Once the girl was provisionally dressed, he took her hands.

»I am so sorry, and I can’t thank you enough for keeping this to yourself, Babette! If I can do anything else for you, just let me know!«

He kissed her cheek, and then, he let the girl withdraw whilst he went to look for his wife, trying to soothe the dragon.

***