Combining Business and Pleasure 5

When he followed the blonde to her cabin, Sato felt more like a stalker than a bodyguard doing his job. Somehow, she had touched something inside him, just by her charming smile. And yet, he was first and for all loyal to Conradi, and so, he managed to stay behind her without getting noticed, until Johanna disappeared behind her door.

Now, what should he do? Send her a warning, like he had done to the brunette reporter? The idea of exposing and spanking the blonde’s buttocks made him feel a very unprofessional warmth in his belly, and he had almost exposed himself when the cabin door suddenly opened, and the blonde stepped out again, having changed her book for a handbag.

When she had passed the next corner, the corridor was empty, and spontaneously, Sato drew his general key, opened her door and slid inside.

»Just for a minute, to see if I find evidence she really is a snoop!«, he told himself as he let his eyes wander over the contents of the room. The cabin service had already made the bed on which he saw the copy of »Death on the Rhine«. It was lying upside down, and his eyes fell on the photo of Joanne von Gröbern. He frowned: there wasn’t just a resemblance – the blonde WAS Joanne von Gröbern!

Now, a minor celebrity travelling incognito wasn’t his business, but it made him wonder why she had been pretending to read her own book. If she wasn’t a narcissist, to which her hiding her identity didn’t fit, it matched his suspicion that she had spied on Davenport and Conradi.

He then heard steps, and he knew that she would immediately see him if the door opened. So, he dropped the book and hid under the bed the moment the door opened. Seconds later, he saw the sandal-clad feet of the supposed Joanne von Gröbern.

He hoped that she had forgotten something and would leave soon, allowing him to retreat. However, she sat down on the bed, causing the springs to touch his back, and then, she took off her sandals. If Sato had wanted, he could have brushed over her heels that were inches away from his fingers.

She got up, and Sato heard the opening of the cupboard door, followed by some rustling. He suggested that she was selecting a new dress, a suspicion confirmed when she draped something on the bed, and he could see an edge of a white dress with small blue polka dots. There was more rustling, and then, Sato would almost have gasped: the blonde’s ankles were right in front of his face, and now, something whit slid down them: Joanne was taking off her panties!

Having stepped out of them, she disappeared, and a few moments later, Sato heard the sound of the shower. It was now or never, and he crawled from under the bed. Though time was on the agenda, he then took the panties. They were plain white cotton, in a modest style. And yet, he could still feel her body’s warmth and scent her fragrance. It cost him some self-control to drop the garment.

On the bed, he saw a fresh pair, equally plain and modest, together with a matching bra. The water was still running, and so, he quickly read the label.

»36 D«, he thought, and reflexively, he looked at his hands. Then, he carefully approached the door when he noticed that the bathroom door was only ajar.

Through the gap, he could see the ribbed glass wall of the shower, and behind it, there was a flesh-coloured silhouette. Though he couldn’t actually see much, the knowledge that this was the naked Joanne was overwhelming, and Sato had to remind himself to close his mouth before he stepped onto the corridor.

When he returned to the deck, he remembered the words of Mr. Conradi when it came to his job:

»As long as you refrain from actual murder and drug dealing, I don’t need to know what exactly you consider necessary to assure my safety and well-being!«

Well, this left quite some room for all kinds of things he could imagine doing to the blonde.

***

Only when she stood in the corridor, Babette realized that Conradi had more or less chucked her out without even asking for details of the attack. However, she could understand that he wasn’t all by himself, for she was suffering from the same problem.

Babette wasn’t a special agent or Policewoman; she was just a financial clerk that looked good in a bikini and that had agreed upon a concealed operation. At first, this had sounded just exciting, but now, she had realized that she was dealing with real criminals.

It had been horrifying to wake up tied and gadded, and stripped to her bikini bottom. Her ordeal had lasted less than an hour, but not only had Conradi now seen her almost naked – whoever had attacked her, he had not simply gagged her: he had used the worn panties of another woman to do so! She still shuddered from the mere memory, and she still could taste them on her tongue.

»I need a drink, or some Listerine!«

When she stumbled through the corridors, she saw the silhouettes of Jeb and Davenport, and she instinctively withdrew behind the next corner. If one of them had been the attacker, she didn’t want them to see her – and if not, she was just not in the mood for more of their lewd comments and blatant looks.

»Oh, careful!«

Not looking her way, she bumped against someone, and she felt a hand on her arm, gently, but firmly. Then, a well-known voice said:

»Babette! You seem to be in a hurry!«

It was John, and whilst she was searching for words, his smile was replaced by a concerned expression, and he touched her other arm, too.

»Babette, is everything all right?«

She wanted to say that she was okay, wanted to continue her way to her cabin, but suddenly, tears shot into her eyes, and when he pulled her closer, she didn’t refuse. When she let out a sob, John gently led her a few yards towards a door and then, he made her get inside his cabin before he took her into his arms.

Babette wasn’t built too close to water, and so, she quickly oppressed her tears, but for some more moments, she enjoyed cuddling against John’s chest, being embraced by his strong arms. He didn’t say anything, his hand just brushed over her back and shoulders, allowing her to calm down a bit. Then, withdrawing a bit, she looked up at him.

»Now, shall I say ›Sorry‹ or ›Thank You‹?«, she breathed, and John answered with a warm smile:

»How about you clean your nose whilst I prepare a drink? And then, you tell me what has happened!«

He more or less pushed her into the bathroom, and Babette took the opportunity to wash her face after she had cleaned her nose and relieved herself. Feeling a bit better, she stepped outside where John was waiting with a tumbler half filled with an amber liquid. When she took the glass, her fingers trembled, and he closed his hand around hers and the glass, leading it to her lips. Then, when Babette coughed from the strong drink, he led her to his armchair and made her sit down. Still holding her hand, he asked her what had happened and how he could help her.

In Babette’s mind, several thoughts came up at the same time: she had promised Conradi not to call the Police, and in addition, she was now more convinced than ever that the man was hiding something. For a second, she thought of telling the lie that Conradi had tried to assault her, but then, John would perhaps have attacked the man. In addition, he wasn’t a cop, just a journalist – and in her current situation, the press could be a helpful ally.

So, she told him a censored version of the truth: in her story, she had been doing some paperwork for Conradi at his suite when someone had knocked her out from behind, and then, Conradi and his wife had found her, bound and gagged. She omitted the fact that she had been topless, or that she had been gagged with Leonora Conradi’s panties, but John could tell from the fact she was wearing a man’s shirt without a bra that something had happened to her usual wardrobe.

»Poor girl!«

Then, his expression changed, and he added:

»Who could do such a thing to you?«

Babette sat up, looking at his sudden determination. He seemed to have read her thoughts, for with a smile, he confessed:

»Babette, I might have lied to you when I told you I am working for a travel magazine! I am a journalist – but I am interested in the travels of the money of a certain type of people – like Martin Conradi or Andrew Davenport!«

So, John was an investigative journalist! She had known it! For a moment, she was tempted to tell him she wasn’t just a secretary either, but she decided against it. Instead, she said:

»Well, at least Davenport seems to be very determined to get what he wants!«

A shadow seemed to fall over John’s face.

»Unless the attack on you was what we call a Red Herring!«

Babette emptied her glass, this time without help, and rose from her chair.

»What do you mean?«

»Well, nobody broke the door open, and yet, the attacker got inside! And as you told, you weren’t knocked out by a hit or narcotic, but by someone pinching your nerves. It might be a coincidence, but this technique is taught by some Martial Art Senseis!«

»Sato!«, she breathed, and then, she looked at him, frowning:

»Are you implying that Conradi faked the whole thing, to distract from something?«

The man’s behaviour didn’t fit that suspicion, but on the other hand, Conradi hadn’t become a Billionaire without some acting qualities. John grabbed her shoulders and pulled her so close the tips of her breasts touched his chest.

»All I am saying that you should be very careful and trust no one – Baby!«

»Baby?«

John grinned:

»Isn’t that the affectionate form for ›Babette‹?«

Now, Babette chortled, feeling amused for the first time since the attack.

»Actually, it’s ›Babsi‹!«

»Babsi«, he repeated, and then, he bent forward, and his lips met hers. Babette kissed him back, but when their tongues met, she withdrew from him.

»I-I better g-get me dressed!«, she stammered, and John let her go, but still held her hands.

»Take care of yourself, Babsi!«

When she looked at his eyes, Babette went on her tiptoes, and they exchanged another kiss. Then, she grabbed her belongings and opened the door.

»See you, John – and Thank You!«

Had Babette not been distracted by the turmoil of feelings inside her, she would perhaps have noticed a decrease in temperature, caused by the icy look of a pair of green eyes.

Suzette had enjoyed flirting with the man she had met by the pool, and when she had seen him again, she had followed him to his cabin, glad to find out he was just a few yards away from hers. So, she had quickly stowed her double bass, refreshed her makeup and decided to see if he would like to have a drink on deck with her.

And now, this girl came out of his cabin. It all added up in Suzette’s mind: the buxom blonde was just wearing a man’s shirt, her hair was dishevelled, and there was a slight red on her cheeks that didn’t come from makeup.

»Fucking slut!«, she hissed after Babette’s back, and she returned to her cabin, slamming the door as she did so.

***

Hannah would not have thought that being left without a blindfold would make her feel even more helpless. She had quickly realized that she would not be able to free her limbs, and the enforced gag only allowed the faintest of noises, but there was still the room behind the glass wall, and so, all her hopes focussed on the mentioned Aerobic class.

Indeed, a woman in a tight top and leggins had appeared after a while, and Hannah had wailed through her gag and pulled on her bonds to attract her attention. The woman had looked up and when she had approached the wall, Hannah had doubled her efforts.

To her dismay, the woman did some stretching whilst looking directly at her, and then, she returned to the desk and turned on some soft music. Hannah, hyperventilating from her efforts, stared at her in disbelief. Was this woman also part of the gang of kidnappers?

Some people, most of them female, filled the room, carrying towels, mats and water bottles, and when the Yoga lesson started, Hannah understood: the glass wall was a one way mirror, and the combination of music and talking drowned all the sounds she could produce. With more than a dozen of potential rescuers, all she could do was stare helplessly.

Why had all this happened to her? When Yema had stated that neither Davenport nor Conradi was behind her abduction, she had sounded as if she was telling the truth. But who else could have an interest in kidnapping her? She had not investigated anything else that could be called explosive, she wasn’t rich, and neither were her parents.

She remembered what Yema had said about »other guests«, and though she was whimpering from fear and impatience, she would have for her kidnappers’ return to maybe find out more, and to get a chance to escape.

***

Petty Officer Andreas Holm stood in the shadow of a potted palm, observing the deck below him. The »Mauretania II« was heading towards Cherbourg, where they would make a stop of just three hours before they would leave for Porto, their next stop. And then, they would head for the destination he was anticipating the most.

Unfortunately, the list of potential girls was quite short, as it seemed that almost none of the pretty ones were travelling alone. Sammy had reported him that Hannah Hoth was at their custody now, but apart from her, there was little choice. Maybe, the double bass player, who not only was a redhead (being the second most requested, after blondes), but had a special skill. However, she sure would be missed if she didn’t play during dinner.

»Maybe, we really have to fall back on Karim’s idea of getting the security Officer into our hands, too!«, he sighed as a gorgeous blonde passed him, the guy holding her hand indicating that she would definitely be missed.

***

Melissa was in Karim’s hands – deliberately and enjoying the treatment. Still grumpy about the unsatisfying interviews with both Jeb and Davenport, she had done her round, and by accident, Karim had just said goodbye to an elderly Lady and asked her whether she wanted to share his lunch break with him.

»Sorry, I am not hungry!«

»But obviously nervous, tense and tired«, he had replied blatantly, and then, he had offered her a massage instead.

»That would mean exploiting you!«

»If you will be the prettiest security aboard the ship again, I see this as a payment!«

Since the only concurrent was Bernd Kugler, this wasn’t the strongest compliment, but Melissa had smiled and agreed. Now, she was lying on the table, stripped down to her panties. She had been wrapped in one of the big towels and only opened it when she had been lying on her belly, denying Karim the look of her breasts.

He didn’t give her the special treatment, just an ordinary back and shoulder massage, but it felt good, and she occasionally sighed during the kneading of her flesh. For Karim, though it was a girl he had spent quite some thoughts about, it was a routine job, and so, whilst Melissa had to stare to the floor through the oval opening for the face, he watched the passers by through his one way mirror, considering it to be like a silent movie. In his fantasy, he filled the moving lips with fictional dialogue. It was slightly amusing, and the minutes passed with him routinely massaging Melissa’s back and even doing some small talk when he suddenly saw someone he knew.

Leonora Conradi, obviously upset about something, was approaching from one side, whilst on the other, he saw a blonde who looked a bit dishevelled. To his amazement, Leonora seemed to sharply attack the blonde who responded with dismay. The room was soundproof, and so, he could only see they were beginning to argue, and suddenly, Leonora attacked the other girl.

»Ouch!«, Melissa protested when he accidentally squeezed her skin, and then, she sat up and also saw the silent brawl.

Babette, even more confused after John’s kiss, had been on the way to her cabin when she had suddenly seen Leonora Conradi come around the corner. When she spotted her, she put her hands on her hips.

»Wearing his shirt, on the corridor for all to see! Don’t you have an ounce of decency?«

Feeling perplexed by the sudden attack, Babette was unable to do more than to stammer »I-It’s not what y-you think!«, causing Leonora to scoff. Not bothering to lower her voice, she shouted:

»Finding you naked in my husband’s bed leaves little to imagination, don’t you agree?«

Babette was about to yell that she had been assaulted, but she remembered her promise to Conradi. Sure, he would tell Leonora once she had calmed down a bit, but here, anyone could hear about the attack. So, she just insisted that it was all a big misunderstanding. Leonora fumed:

»I don’t mind him fucking out the little brain you have, but he should at least respect some lines – and so should you, you little-«

Now, Babette also put her hands on her hips, dropping her bag.

»There was nothing between us!«

»You are wearing his shirt – the shirt I bought him for Christmas!«

She approached, and since Babette feared she was trying to rip the shirt from her, she grabbed Leonora’s wrists, and a brawl began. However, before it could get too rough, suddenly, someone pushed between them.

»Whoa, whoa, whoa, Ladies, there sure is another way to settle this!«

It was Karim, and he tried his best to separate the two. In the open door stood Melissa, trying to express some authority being clad in just her panties and the towel she had rapidly wrapped around her body when she had followed Karim.

Staring daggers at each other, Babette and Leonora stood about a yard apart, each held by Karim by one arm. Their chests were heaving, which had quite a distracting effect for Karim could see that the well endowed blonde was wearing no bra.

»Ladies, this is not the place and the way of settling things! So, may I suggest that you«, he looked at Leonora, »follow me inside, so I can help you finding your inner peace, whilst you«, he switched to Babette, »return to your room, and if some time has passed, you may talk about what had happened. Unless it was a real crime, of course! If so, we have the right person here!«

»Maybe, I should put my uniform back on first«, a slightly embarrassed Melissa murmured. Since Karim had already separated the two, she withdrew to get dressed, and when she returned from the dressing box, she could see both women inside, standing on opposite sides of the one sided mirror. Karim just brought a white bathrobe and handed it to Babette.

»I couldn’t help overhearing that the quarrel was partially about your shirt! So, I suggest that you take it off and take the bathrobe! I will personally take care it will be sent back to Mrs. Conradi, cleaned and ironed!«

»Grmph!«

Babette grabbed the bathrobe and disappeared inside the box. Karim turned towards Melissa, but spoke loud enough Leonora could hear it:

»Sorry, melissa, but would you forgive me if I delay your massage and let Mrs. Conradi have an out-of-schedule treatment instead? I think she needs some relaxation!«

Melissa would have expected that the angry woman would have become furious at being told to calm down, but instead, it seemed that she was quite keen on her massage. She didn’t look at the blonde who, clad in the bathrobe, stormed out of the box, handing the shirt to Karim, but instead seemed to wait for her to leave, too.

Melissa wanted to ask the blonde if she was okay, but when she stepped on the corridor, she could only see her rush around the next corner, and so, she shrugged and went off.

»At least, this was settled peacefully, thanks to Karim, and it even got me half a massage!«

Behind the now closed door, Karim waited for Leonora to leave the changing room. She came out wrapped in a towel, and when she had lied down on the table, he could see that this time, she was stark naked underneath.

»Seems that I owe your husband his money back, Leonora! The special treatment has only kept you in good mood for about two hours!«

»Please, don’t even mention that bastard!«, Leonora scoffed. Then, she suddenly turned to her side a bit, so she could look at his face. She didn’t seem to bother that he could also see her left breast.

»Say, can you also make me forget that my husband considers me an old hag and tramples on my dignity?«

Karim gently touched her shoulder, and she didn’t resist when he made her turn to her back, presenting her nude front to him. He stepped behind the table, placing his fingers in a way on her shoulders that his thumbs caressed the sides of her neck whilst his fingertips began to slightly knead the bases of her breasts.

»To feel young and beautiful, all you have to do is looking at the mirror, Leonora – but I think that I know a technique or two that will also help!«

***

Upset by the wrong accusation, Babette had stormed to her room, about to call her boss that she would skip the job, get from the ship at Cherbourg and returning to her old boring job in the financial office. Then, however, having showered and brushed her teeth, removing both the taste of the drink and the used panties in her mouth, she felt a little more confident, and she grabbed the telephone on her nightstand.

Like in a hotel, the passengers could dial other rooms by simply typing the room number, and she had remembered John’s. She was lucky and he responded the call after the third ringing.

»John, it’s me – Babsi! Look, you may consider me a bit direct, but would you like having dinner with me again?«

He sounded pleased about the idea, and they agreed about meeting at 7pm. Babette leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. When Leonora had attacked her, she had really felt as if she had committed adultery, but now, she felt much better – even good enough for another call that cost her much more overcoming.

She took a deep breath, and then, though this wasn’t a video line, she got dressed before she called Conradi, to figure out how they should handle both the attempted burglary and his wife being on the warpath.

***

At 1 pm, Johanna had once again looked whether Hannah was at her room, but the brunette still was absent. She now felt a bit concerned, but on the other hand, whenever she thought of the compliment the Japanese had made about her smile, she couldn’t prevent the corners of her mouth from going upwards. He had neither been young nor handsome, but nevertheless, it had felt flattering.

»Maybe, I will even make him a figure in my new book!«

On another deck, Sato was indeed thinking of her whilst he was in his room where he was sitting on his bed, beside him a velvet sack, lined with silk on the inside. It had contained the ropes he was letting run through his fingers now, looking rough, but feeling smooth and flexible.

Sato wasn’t following all Japanese traditions, even more as he was living in Europe for more than 20 years now. He preferred beer to Sake, he owned one Kimono (that acted as his bathrobe), and he wasn’t even a fan of Baseball. However, there were a few things that were dear to him, and one of them was Hojojutsu, also known as Shibari – the Japanese art of bondage.

Since he had first heard about it as a teenager, he had read books and magazines about it, had watched films and tutorials, and when he had been on holiday in Japan, he had even attended a one week workshop at Kyoto. However, he still felt like a soldier who could reassemble his rifle blindfolded and always hit the target, but who had never seen battle.

He needed a real model – and now, in his fantasies, this model had ample forms and blonde curls. Sato smiled as he looked at the ceiling.

»Too bad I won’t be able to see her lovely smile when she’s gagged!«

***

»Excuse me, Sir, does this ship has a library, too?«

Andreas Holm looked at the woman standing in front of him, and he thought that he had been a bit lazy in his yesterday’s listing: the woman was pretty, though she was past her 30th birthday. How had he missed her the day before?

»Well, of course, Miss! It’s a bit tricky to find, however, and therefore, and since my shift is nearly over anyway, I will show you!«

On the way to the library, he explained to the blonde woman that if she wanted to borrow books, she had to give her name and cabin number to the librarian, and by pretending to have a look at the new books, he overheard the woman’s name: Johanna Müller. Since the name was so common, he hoped that there would not be two or three on his list.

Johanna, now a bit worried about Hannah’s whereabouts, had decided to follow a little vanity of hers: check public libraries whether they had her books in their shelves. Andreas saw her walk over to the crime novels, and when she had bent down to check one of the lower shelves, telling him that her figure obviously was better than her modest dress showed, he left.

He had not lied about his shift being over – but he still had his second job he had to take care of. He waited until the next course had started in the Aerobic room, and then, he slipped into the room they had prepared by occupying the fitness room. This had been closed due to cockroaches in the mats, though officially, it was still under construction. Andreas smiled: the cockroaches had been his idea, though Sammy had executed it.

Hannah’s eyes widened with hope, and she mewed through her mouth filling gag when she saw that neither Sammy nor Yema had entered, but a young handsome man in a white uniform. Then, her moans became those of fear when the man approached her without haste, still grinning, and his eyes wandering over her bra and panty clad body.

»Ah, Hannah, I presume? It’s hard to tell if you are wearing this thing over your head, but at least, your body looks like it should! And speaking of that-«

He produced a small notebook and a biro and came closer, letting his eyes wander all over her body. Then, his hand pushed between her back and the backrest. Hannah mewed as he unclasped her bra and pulled on the strap, so he could read the label.

»32B!«

Then, much to the girl’s dismay, he pushed his hand into one of the cups, groping her breast before turning to the other.

»All natural! Usually, if a woman’s breasts are medium-sized, one could assume that they are not enhanced, but better be sure, eh?«

»Mmhrrrmm!«

Chuckling, he then reached into her panties, rubbing over her pubic mound, ignoring Hannah’s whimpers.

»Landing strip!«, he then commented, and the girl couldn’t help blushing. The man gently patted her cheek.

»Just some stats, Hannah, I would not dare to go further with you!«

He cocked his head, and he showed a friendly, slightly impish grin.

»That is, unless you want me to, of course!«

»Nnnggnn! Mmhhmmph!«

Hannah vigorously shook her head, staring over his shoulder at the people in the adjacent room who were so unaware of what was going on just a few yards away. The man once again pushed his hand into her bra and kneaded her breast: not brutally, just to remind her that he could do so, and she could do nothing about it.

»You want to hear some good news?«

He had to repeat the question before the girl realized he was serious. Since every bit of information could perhaps be helpful, she nodded, and he again showed his smile that would have looked appealing under other conditions: now, it looked even more frightening than if he had been an ugly creep with rotten teeth.

»One of those who will soon keep you company has got bigger boobs than you – so, once she’s here, I will prefer playing with hers!«

Hannah whimpered as he chuckled. After one last playful pinch to her nipple, he withdrew from her, and she was once again left alone.

***

Babette rummaged through her cupboard and finally chose a black skirt that ended four inches above her knees together with a plain white T-Shirt. She wasn’t eager to meet with Conradi at his room, but he had told her it was the only place where they would be undisturbed, and he had to talk to her about how to handle what had happened.

Partially, it was her fault, as she had told him that his wife was getting a massage. If Conradi wondered why she did so for the second time on a single day, he kept it to himself.

She wondered why she bothered: Conradi still seemed to trust her, and so, she could perhaps get what she had come for. However, since her encounter with John, she was feeling less easy about flirting with the man. It felt a little as if she was betraying him. Of course, this was irrational, but it nevertheless concerned her as she walked towards Conradi’s suite.

***