No-LIMIT-Rooms 03 English

"I had forgotten my manners in view of her beauty and had not yet formally introduced myself to her. Allow me, Vladimir, an admirer and patron of her art form."

He bowed like a Russian grand prince and gave me a formal kiss on the hand. Well, he was probably on something like that. So this was Vladimir. Had I played poker with him in Russia? No, I could have remembered that. But there were gentlemen who had stayed in the background and whom I had not seen up close. I had completely trusted my changed appearance, but now I was unsure if he had recognized me.

"I had heard you answering in Russian, and so without the usual German accent," he addressed me again in Russian. "It's nice to be able to talk to them in my native language, too. And since they speak it so perfectly, I assumed they'd been to Moscow before, too. You used a term earlier in the interview that is usually only used in Moscow poker clubs."

"Oh, I wasn't aware of that, which one was that?"

Before he could answer, Rebecca interjected.

"Kumiho is completely exhausted and we also need to tend to her wounds, so I'll ask them to excuse us now. If they'll stay a little longer, I'll join them again in a moment, Vladimir."

"Why, certainly, how thoughtless of me. Where have I got my head tonight?" he laughed. "I thank you for your performance and wish you a restful night. See you soon my dearest!"

I nodded to him gratefully and turned toward the stage door to get away from them as quickly as possible. But already Rebecca had grabbed me by the arm and hooked herself to me.

"Now, now, my dear. Be careful that you don't fall off the stage in your exhausted state. I will escort you to the back where 17 is already waiting for you and will take care of your wounds. By the way, why didn't you ever mention that you speak Russian so fluently? I'm really jealous."

Without resistance, I let her lead me to the back and pretended to be tired. In fact, however, an adrenaline storm was raging through my veins, and if I were a real kumiho, the whole building would now be threatened by a category five tornado. How could I have been so stupid? Sure, to be able to speak Russian is not a mistake, but it did not fit to Johanna's Vita. Especially not without an accent. How was I supposed to explain it? 'Hello, Johanna is a Sorbian from Lower Saxony?", there was no Sorbian community in Lower Saxony. And Johanna had attended secondary school, where Russian was not common. There was English and at best French as a foreign language. It could only have been worse if I had answered anyone in Sorbian. And which darned term had Vladimir meant? Fortunately for me, however, Rebecca had something else on her mind at the moment.

"So you little rebel. What were you thinking, throwing our whole script out the window, taking the other paladins out of the game and leaving Isabell alive?" she accused me, as soon as we were backstage.

Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had expected the accusations and had been able to come up with an explanation long enough.

"That's ingenious, so I always have a helper who can free me in case of need. Two of us can accomplish my mission much better and there are more possibilities."

"Well, well, brilliant. Isabell was meant for other things. She was going to leave us, I told you that. Now we have to see how to explain her disappearance to the viewers."

"What disappearance? She'll just stay on the show."

Isabell turned me around to face her and looked me in the eye, "No, she won't."

"Why not?"

For the first time, I saw Rebecca become unsure. I had thrown her off her game. She was not used to such contradiction from the models. But she caught herself right away.

"Because this is Isabelle's decision, not yours."

I just barely swallowed my answer, in which I would have thrown my accumulated knowledge about her and Isabell around her ears. Damn, I was more tired than I thought, and thus more careless than advisable.

But she took my silence as thoughtfulness.

"I see you understand. Isabell had made that decision for herself, and you have no right to change it on your own authority."

"And if she changes her mind now?"

Again Isabell hesitated. "Then it's her decision, too. But only if you don't force her to."

"How could I force her to do that? With a bet like the one between you and me?"

Rebecca let go of me. "Go get patched up, you're bleeding. We'll talk about it tomorrow when you've recovered." She turned and walked back to the studio. As she walked away, however, she spoke over her shoulder, "Other than that, you were great."

Dumbfounded, I looked after her. I hadn't expected praise from her. Smiling, I turned and continued down the hallway when I spotted Isabell in a doorway. She was not smiling. "A bet? On me? I'm not a prize Johanna!"

Stunned, I stopped. "We didn't make a bet about you, what makes you think that?"

"I just heard it myself, you telling Rebecca that you were making a bet with her about me."

"You completely misunderstood. I had made a bet with Rebecca before, but not about you."

"But?"

I hesitated. "I can't tell you that," I answered truthfully.

"So it was about me after all."

"No, damn it, about me. If I lose, I'm hers. At least for some time."

She looked at me incredulously. "Why would you make a bet like that?"

"Don't ask any more questions, please."

Silently, she looked me in the eye, finally nodding. "I believe you. You've made a mess of everything, do you realize that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Her plans, with you, with me."

Now it was my turn to stand there uncomprehending. "Can you speak plainly? I don't understand a thing."

"Later." She looked past me to the back.

I turned and saw 17 standing in the hallway. How much had she heard? "Come on, let's get fixed up. And then we'll celebrate our triumph over the paladins."

Lifting my head high, I walked over to 17, winked at her with a smile, and held a finger to my lips to show her to keep quiet, if she had heard anything. She nodded curtly.

"So, my talkative friend," I took her hand. "On to medical care."

22 Confessions

To my surprise, 11 was also waiting for us. So each of us had her personal slave to freshen up. But the Doc was also there to take care of our wounds. At least this time I didn't have to be taken to the hospital on a stretcher, although I was exhausted and hungry. After a visit to the toilet and a short shower, I went straight to the temporary treatment room, where I was examined very thoroughly. Open areas were disinfected, bruises were treated with ointments and then I was given another Pharaoh bandage from my neck to my ankles.

Isabell's treatment followed immediately. Although it was not quite as bad with her, she was also mummified accordingly. The slave women had probably used a kilometer of gauze. When we looked at each other afterwards, we both had to giggle. After we were helped into our bathrobes, the two slave girls disappeared without a word.

The doc had left earlier. In the hospital I had known him as friendly and talkative during the rounds, but down here he seemed to more or less ignore me. One could also call it a highly professional distancing. He was certainly not gay, as a glance at his midsection had told me when he had examined my naked body. I somehow got the impression that he didn't like doing the service here. Had he been bribed or blackmailed? Should it be so hard to find sadistic doctors who liked their service down here? When I thought back to my experience in the scene, doctors actually seemed to be rather underrepresented. Lawyers were found more often.

"Where to now?", I asked Isabell after we had regained our composure.

"What food? I understand there's a buffet out front."

"Well then, why are we still standing around here?"

Soon I knew where 11 and 17 had disappeared too. They, along with the other three in maid latex costumes, were serving the team, which was already eating. As soon as we crossed the stage, applause broke out again. Astonished, I looked around. All the tables were occupied by people I had mostly not seen down here before, but who were obviously not guests. They were wearing more casual or work clothes. I recognized our recording team with the exception of the trio and Linse. They had pushed some tables together and were sitting together. When we arrived, there was a hello and another table and two chairs were hastily organized for us.

The three women I had seen on Friday night were also sitting here. I could not discover Q anywhere. The two camera women were introduced to me as Tina and Ina. Both had blond hair, but that was their only similarity. Tina was about mid-30s, roundish and about 170 cm tall. Ina, on the other hand, was in her early 20s, very slim and almost 180 cm. She had a somewhat tart face.

The third was called Malin, was brunette, in her early 20s, very slim and had pretty gray-blue eyes above a snub nose. She was an assistant and helped with everything around the stage. She was also responsible for lighting, assisting the sound technicians or the camera people.

Before we had to take care of anything ourselves, 11 came to the table. 17 I couldn't spot anywhere right now.

"What can I get them to drink?"

Astonished, I looked at her. It was the first words I had heard her say in the last three days. Apparently she was now allowed to speak or at least ask necessary questions.

I shook my head. "No need, I'll pick something out in a minute, thanks!"

Her eyes looked desperate, "Please, mistress, I have instructions to serve you."

"Instructions? From whom? Never mind, stupid question, from Rebecca of course."

She shook her head to my amazement. "Mistress Diana instructed me. And now, what may I bring you?"

"Champagne," Isabell answered in my place. "Preferably a whole bottle!"

"Very well," confirmed 11. "And would you like to choose something from the buffet or shall I bring over a selection."

"No, thank you. I'll put something together myself. Come on, Isabell, my stomach is growling."

We rose and walked to the buffet while 11 walked to the counter.

"What's that all about?"

Isabell just shook her head. "I'm telling you, you've made a mess of things around here, not just me."

Oh, that's right, there was that strange confession just before our mouths were shut. So much had happened that I hadn't even thought about it. In fact, I had even repressed it.

Wordlessly, I turned to the food selection, not wanting to dwell on it yet.

With our plates full, we returned to the tables, where the cooler with the champagne was already waiting. But not only for us, the others were inspired by the example and had ordered some. I was curious about the subsequent division of the bill.

Isabell poured for herself and me, but also gave some to our immediate table neighbors. Shortly after, everyone had a glass in their hands.

"Here's to our first successful million-dollar shoot! And thanks to Rebecca for the bubbly!", Isabell raised the glass. "And to the invincible Kumiho!"

"To Kumiho!" Shouted the others and glasses clinked.

Oh, Rebecca had spent that? I tasted the champagne. It was very good, as far as I could tell with my untrained taste buds.

Actually, I was not the champagne type. Since my crash some time ago, I had avoided alcohol completely. After I had reached a dead end with my research in Russia and hopelessness had spread through me, I tried to numb myself with alcohol. This ultimately led to my accident at the SM live show, in which I seriously injured myself. Since then, I had avoided alcohol altogether, partly because my new 'friends' strongly admonished me not to slip into addiction. They picked me up at my lowest point, just before I would have fallen into prostitution. Well, according to some contemporaries pornography was also prostitution, but I saw it more differentiated. I didn't have to jump into bed with everyone and I could also say no. Besides, I knew beforehand who would have sex with me, and all of them had regular health checks.

Now I was ravenously hungry for my food. It was very good and before I knew it, my plate was empty. Isabell had also eaten up and we went back together to the buffet, where we unexpectedly met Linse, who had piled up a plate with a whole mountain of food.

"Hey you two, it was a great show! I was in the control room, we're still editing for the downloads and Pornhub promos. I was just hungry and wanted to get something before they cleaned up."

I looked at his alarmingly high food pile. "Don't you want to maybe take two or better yet three plates?"

"No's fine. I'll be gone in a minute, too."

"Where are your wife, Jelena, and Rebecca? Aren't they celebrating with us?"

"No, Rebecca and my wife are in the control room, too. We're celebrating with Charly. Only nobody thought of food up there."

"Well, poor you, enjoy your meal! Will you join us?"

He glanced toward our table. "Doesn't seem to be any room for me."

"Nonsense, room we make. What's the matter, are you avoiding us, or is it not proper to celebrate with the foot people?"

I saw a brief, pained expression flash across his face. So that was it. Team, my ass. The rest of us were interchangeable faces and bodies, not the inner circle.

"No, it isn't. But because of my connection to Diana, my presence might dampen the mood. She is, after all, the operations manager, if you want to call it that."

Why didn't I know that?

"Operations manager? Never heard of that. Is this all a secret society, where only insiders are informed about the degrees of the Grand Masters?"

"Johanna, you'd really suck as a spy. The information about our company can be found on the intranet, can't it? Under structure and introduction. Normally Diana would have briefed and guided you for the last three weeks, not Rebecca. That was completely unusual and the reason was that my wife had other things to do. In the future, I think you'll have less to do with Rebecca and Diana will be your boss."

How could I have missed that? I had researched everything, after all, and even in my conversations I hadn't learned that.

"And, because I didn't find the info about it on the intranet, I would be a failure as a spy? I guess Kumiho has a lot to learn?" My voice sounded annoyed, which surprised myself.

Thomas, meanwhile, had shoved a bite into his mouth and was chewing on a filet mignon. He looked at me with wide eyes and struggled to swallow quickly.

"Dasch scholte no insult," he replied, swallowing the last bite. "You know, there's a great deal of emphasis on secrecy here, and every new arrival is strictly scrutinized. We already suspected you of being an undercover agent. But you disproved that with flying colors."

I stood there with my mouth open. "Me, an undercover investigator? Are you guys out of your minds? Where did you get that idea?", I hissed as I regained my composure.

He visibly winced and looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to us or had heard me. Isabell was obviously also standing next to me, very surprised, otherwise no one had probably just been within earshot, because I had muffled my voice a lot.

He leaned over to me and whispered in my ear. "I shouldn't have told you this, but be glad it's not you. Here, for starters, everyone is under suspicion until proven otherwise. And no cop would ever put up with something like that just to get information. Congratulations, you're now officially on the team. But you didn't get that from me, all right? Now go celebrate!"

He had already said the last sentence louder and to both of us together, then he turned away and left the room. Left us standing there completely perplexed.

"What was that all about?", I turned to Isabell.

She just shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. You seem to be making an impression on him. I'd almost say he has a little crush on you."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. What was that about being undercover?"

Her gaze avoided me.

"Isabell?"

"Not here and not now, okay? I'll explain everything later."

"Right now!" My voice sounded icy cold.

She looked around. "We can't talk here."

I took the plate from her hand and placed it on the buffet along with mine, then pulled her into a quiet corner of the room. Her eyes darted to a camera in the corner. I pulled her to me and gave her a kiss, then hugged her and whispered in her ear, "So you were spying on me? Was that what you were going to tell me at the ranch?"

She nodded. I noticed her start to sob.

"Rebecca had instructed me to seek out your closeness and befriend you. I had no idea I would fall head over heels in love with you," she whispered in my ear as we still hugged.

My thoughts were racing. I was exhausted and tired, barely able to think straight. Anything I would say now could be my undoing. On the other hand, I had to assume that she wasn't feeling any better. Was there no place here where I could talk to her undisturbed?

"We'll say goodbye to the others now and go upstairs. Then we'll talk, undisturbed and unobserved, all right?"

"We can't, there are no unobserved places here, Johanna. Not even in our apartments!"

"Excuse me?", I acted surprised. "You're not serious?"

"Yes, I am. But very few people know that. The whole building is under complete surveillance. And every conversation can be intercepted."

"And how do you know about that?"

"Johanna, please."

"How?"

"Because I'm Rebecca's property! I'm her slave, have been for five years."

That was probably true. What else could I elicit from her?

"There are rumors of missing girls, which of them is true?"

She tried to tilt her head back and look at me, but I held it iron tight against my cheek.

"Johanna, what is this?"

"Am I working for the mafia here? Am I in mortal danger if I step out of line?"

She relaxed noticeably.

"No, not in danger of your life. But if you fuck up here, the company will make your life hell. Financially and personally. Your recordings will end up on the net with your real name and home address, and you'll be swamped by lawyers with all kinds of demands and reminders. The girls have not really disappeared. They are alive and well. They messed up and are being given the opportunity to make amends. You saw them at the ranch. They're doing it voluntarily, well, at least half of it. We have nothing to do with the mafia, on the contrary. We don't fear any police or authority, but the mafia. That's why the secrecy, total surveillance and armed security."

It was not lost on me that she had switched to 'we'. I decided to change the dangerous subject.

"Rebecca, what does she want from me, what are these plans?"

"She wants you as a slave!"

"Bullshit! Why? Did she tell you that?"

"I've known her for six years and I know how she thinks. She doesn't have to tell me, I can read her looks and hints like a book. You have awakened her hunting instinct and are a game she desires for her trophy collection. Just as I am a trophy."

"Do you love her?"

She was silent for so long that I already assumed she hadn't understood me. I was already about to repeat my question, when she answered.

"I honestly don't know. I need her, desire her, but it's very different from you. Before Rebecca, I didn't know love at all. I thought what I felt for her was love. But with you, for the first time, I understand what butterflies in my stomach really mean."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. What had I gotten myself into here? The anger and disappointment of Isabelle's betrayal still gnawed at me. On the other hand, I felt guilty myself for lying to her and taking advantage of her. And yes, I loved her, too.

"I love you too!" My voice was almost a breath and tears were running down my face.