No-LIMIT-Rooms 06 English

"Doesn't he have enough influence on the board of directors to get it done that way?"

"No, I have more influence there than he does. I own most of the rooms, and that's become a thorn in his side."

"Why doesn't he just use someone who's already in the house?"

Rebecca laughed. "As if he hasn't tried that a few times already. He rebuffed Diana and Jelena. And the last time he tried to destroy me was Edward. I imagine he's furious with you right now that you, of all people, blew it for him!"

"Why me of all people?"

"You still can't think it through, can you? You refuse to accept it?"

"Accept what?"

"That you're only in the Rooms because of Nadine!"

"What?"

"Nadine is currently Vladimir's slave!"

"What nonsense!"

"I had known for some time that he had a new German slave named Nadia. He had made no secret of that. And she looks like you."

She looked at me closely. "She also has exactly the same birthmark on the right side of her forehead as you do. Actually, I should have noticed it much earlier. But to my shame, I didn't realize it until yesterday."

If I had asked for further proof of Rebecca's claim that Nadine was alive and well, it would have been something like this. Now I was completely speechless.

"I'm guessing it's only because of her that you got involved. Although I probably would have contacted you that way, too. But now it's your turn to tell me how Holger recruited you. Up to now, all this was just guesswork on my part. So please, now be honest with me for a change!"

Sighing, I looked at her.

"My real name is Laura Zamora! After my testimony against the mafia, I went into hiding and took my current name. But the Mafia found and kidnapped Nadine, who had felt safe. I followed the trail of her kidnappers all the way to Russia to find her. Unfortunately in vain. But for that, I had gotten myself very deeply into debt with a loan shark. When I finally gave up the search without success, I had to see how I could get the money back. Therefore, I not only worked as a camgirl, but also performed shows in various BDSM clubs. Until the incident at Club Hydra! You obviously saw the show get out of hand and I broke my arm.

The hospital bills added to my troubles, and along with the despair of losing my sister forever, my alcohol problem intensified.

I was pretty much at my lowest point when I received an unexpected visit."

47. FSB

It was about four months after the failed show when my doorbell rang in the early afternoon. I looked suspiciously through the peephole.

At my door stood a man I didn't know, about mid-thirties, black hair, brown eyes. He was well-dressed and well-toned.

Immediately, my alarm bells went off. I couldn't put my finger on it, but everything about him shouted: 'Russian'!

Had they finally found me? As quietly as possible, I stepped into the back of my tiny apartment. I almost fell over an empty liquor bottle, which now rolled clattering to the side.

Damn! Whoever was standing out there, they must have heard it too.

"Mrs. Blauert? Hello! Can I talk to you for a moment? You won't regret it, I can promise you that."

My head ached. Damn, it was early in the morning for me. Since the accident, I had started to work as a camgirl again. That paid the rent, but to pay off my debts I would have to work for 50 years. Well, it would work in 20, if I would not drink so much. But I didn't have anything else. Nadine was gone, probably dead. And it was my fault. And the fucking BKA was not the slightest help.

"Ms. Blauert, really, it's important!"

Was he trying to collect money, murder me, or sell insurance? It didn't matter, I didn't want to do any of the three. Damn, why didn't this apartment have a fire escape in front of the window. They all had them in American movies. I pondered: should I yank open the door, purposefully knock him out, and escape? Cautiously I went to the door again and looked through the peephole once more. He was looking right at me. Damn!

He held up an identification card. "Ms. Blauert, I'm from the Russian Embassy. My name is Piotr Babich. It's really important and confidential! Or should I address you here through the door with your real name?"

I jerked back. A Russian, as I had suspected! However, my mind slowly switched back on. The Mafia would not have sent one. There would be two or more. I looked out the window to see if I saw anyone else standing in the street. Nothing.

With the door chain presented, I opened the door.

"What do you want? Show me your ID!"

The man smiled kindly and raised his ID card again. I had been waiting for this moment. Before he could react, I took a picture of him with the ID on my cell phone. Then I quickly closed the door again and finished a message.

"If you send my photo to the BKA now, you'll probably never see your sister again!" he shouted from outside.

I paused. Again I opened the door, looked him in the eye.

"Johanna, if I were Mafia, you would already be dead, or the door kicked in!" he said in a lowered voice. "But I'm not from the mafia. On the contrary. Now please let me in!"

After another moment of hesitation, I finally nodded. I closed the door again and took off the chain. Then I opened it and stepped back into the room, my hand over the send button of my cell phone. If he did murder me now, at least the BKA had a chance to find him.

Piotr, or whoever it was, entered and looked around. My room was, well, let's call it untidy. Only the bed and the wall area behind it were clean, because that was my work platform. I looked around, then took my only chair, dumped the clothes off of it and put it down. Then I pointed to it and retreated to my bed. It was nonsense, of course, but I felt a little safer there.

He nodded and sat down.

"So, should I call you Johanna Blauert, or Laura Zamora? Which would you prefer?"

"My name is Johanna!"

He nodded.

"Fine, then we'll stick with that. And you can call me Holger from now on. Holger Schmidt!"

Although his German was completely without an accent, I could not imagine him as a Holger Schmidt. I began to laugh. Astonished, he looked at me.

"What's so funny about that?"

I shook my head and waved it off. "Nothing, actually. Sorry, but the tension!"

He nodded.

"I can understand that. You have been living on the run for over two years, almost three! And, to be honest, your enemies do not forget and are powerful. But, Johanna, you are still alive. And that, although you yourselves had traveled to Russia to look for your sister."

I opened my eyes in amazement. How did he know that?

Unmoved, he continued, "I can't tell you where your sister is right now, but from what I know, she's alive and well, considering the circumstances!"

"How do you know?"

"Johanna, have you ever heard of the FSB, the Federalnaya Slushba Besopasnosti?"

48. alliance

"He approached me about the fact that I had been targeted by the Russian Secret Service during my search in Russia, and they found out that Johanna was not my real name. The Cold War may be officially over, but a foreigner with a false passport is still an alarm signal there. And from then on I was under surveillance until they learned my real name and history. From then on, I was considered unimportant until he, Holger, had an idea to use me for their purposes and thus be able to help me," I finished my report to Rebecca.

She had listened to me attentively the whole time, nodding slightly at the description of my show. Now she seemed completely satisfied.

"You had no reason at all not to believe him. Who else but the Secret Service could have found all this out? I would have believed him, too, if I were you!" Rebecca confirmed sympathetically.

"But, if he's not FSB, where else could he have gotten the information about you? The mafia didn't know your new name, did they?"

I shook my head.

"If Nadine had betrayed that, the Mafia would have found me long ago. After all, I was even looking for her in Russia under that name. Only Nadine and a good secret service could have known all that."

"I explain it this way," Rebecca surmised. "Holger shadowed me when I visited Club Hydra. An easy job, since quite a few people there are masked. And he must have noticed my interest in you. However, I had lost sight of you. After the show, you suddenly disappeared!"

I nodded.

"I had trouble with the Rigger on the show, who suddenly stalked me about a lawsuit and threatened me. So I moved without registering again. I was then all the more surprised that Holger found me."

"He's a successful investigator. He probably used an image search to scour the cam sites. Or bribed someone to tell him your cam name. I didn't think it was that important at the time. If I had run into you again somewhere, though, I would have approached you."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that comment, so I decided to ignore it.

"In any case, he probably had the idea of infiltrating you with me. But since he is not completely free in his decisions, he asked his employer. Besides, he also needed information about you. He probably cut his teeth on your CV, just like my detective agency. By the way: impressively good forged papers. They must have cost a fortune!" She looked at me lurking, but I said nothing to that, so she continued her story.

"Then a picture of you must have fallen into Nadia's hands. And so he had all the information to be able to lure you."

It sounded quite plausible, even if I didn't understand why Nadine should do that. Why hadn't she simply contacted me as soon as she knew about me?

"That can't be true, because Nadine would have contacted me as soon as the opportunity arose."

Rebecca looked at me thoughtfully.

"You forget what she's been through! Something like that changes people. It's almost a miracle that she survived being kidnapped by the mafia and still has all her body parts, too."

She didn't need to remind me of that. I had imagined thousands of times what Nadine would have to endure in my place, what the mafia would do to her. And not infrequently such thoughts had ended with a drunk.

"So, where is Nadine now?", I finally wanted to know.

Rebecca shrugged her shoulders.

"I can't tell you exactly, but I strongly suspect that she lives on Vladimir's estate in Cyprus. After all, he can hardly keep his slave at his home in Moscow. Not that his wife doesn't know about it, that he keeps slaves, but she wouldn't tolerate such provocation."

Cyprus, which coincided with Holger's statement.

We heard the front door open. Aaron came back inside.

"Boss, everything is fine on the property so far. But someone has destroyed our lights. Probably teenagers."

Stupid Sasha! He was supposed to fix that.

"All right. Can you fix those?"

He shook his head.

"No, I would need a lifting basket to do that. A company would have to do that."

"Well, then I will assign someone, thank you!"

He nodded and retreated to the next room.

I had almost completely forgotten that Aaron was in the house with me, and now I felt a little uneasy again. Rebecca was no danger to me, but I could not take on Aaron. I had now put myself in Rebecca's hands. Something I would have considered completely out of the question this morning. What was it about this woman that she could manipulate people like this? Again, I had doubts whether I had made the right decision. What if Holger was from the Secret Service after all?

Rebecca was watching me. Did she suspect what was going through my mind right now?

"So, Laura, you lied to me and deceived me. Not a nice behavior for an obedient slave, is it?"

What did she mean? What was that about?

"No, mistress, that was certainly not right. But I apologize for the circumstances! And, please stay with Johanna, that is my name now."

"No, you're now fifteen again. Whereas, actually, it should be 29, don't you think?"

I held my breath. What was I supposed to answer now?

But she did not wait for my answer.

"But until the end of the month, you're kind of on leave, so we'll sort it out later. But right now there's something that can't be sorted out later. I have to pee. And either Aaron carries me up the stairs now, or you prove your total submission to me!"

I swallowed dryly. Piss did not scare me, but it was already a very drastic kind of submission. But I had decided at the moment when I had revealed myself to Rebecca.

Therefore, I now sank to my knees in front of her and helped her to get out of her pants. She slid forward on the leather chair. Shortly thereafter, her slit lay wet in front of me. I already knew her, both her smell and her taste. But now something else was waiting for me.

Without further hesitation, I covered her pussy with my mouth. It was not long before the salty-bitter liquid filled my mouth and I began to swallow. And unfortunately came quite a lot.

I tried as hard as I could not to miss a drop. I did not succeed completely, but at least the mess was limited to a few splashes on the floor and on the chair. When nothing more came, I first licked it clean, then I began, quite slave, to lick up also the splashes on the chair, finally on the floor.

She had been watching me wordlessly the whole time. When I was finished, she nodded.

"Good, now I'll allow you to indulge me some more!"

I didn't have to overcome myself to do that. Rebecca tasted, apart from her urine, otherwise very good. This was not a punishment for me.

With all my art I began to lick, kiss and suck her tenderly with my lips. And it was not long before my efforts were crowned with success and she began to moan. When I tasted her pleasure juice, I knew that I had accomplished my task. But I continued for quite a while with reduced intensity until she ordered me to stop.

So now I was slave 15 again.

After the conclusion of our conversation, I took my things upstairs. I took the borrowed T-shirt out of my bag and put it in the closet from which I had taken it. Actually, it didn't matter now.

However, I had to somehow inform Isabell that I was busted. How was I supposed to do that now?

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Curious, I went downstairs and got there just as our IT manager was let in by Aaron.

He was a wiry, tall Austrian, as I immediately recognized from his dialect. Personally, I had not yet had anything to do with him. But now he greeted me curiously.

"So, you're the IT prodigy? Martin Zagler, IT Manager.", he introduced himself to me.

"Johanna Blauert. Why prodigy?"

"Because you just bypassed the access barriers I had set up!"

"Oh, Hal. Sure."

He smiled, though not quite friendly.

"And what have you done here?"

Embarrassed, I looked at Rebecca, who was now sitting in the wheelchair again.

She interfered.

"Here was a burglary and something was installed, Johanna discovered it," she lied to him.

Surprised, I looked at her, but she shook her head when Martin looked me. I was to remain silent.

Martin looked back and forth between the two of us, then shrugged.

"All right, let me take a look at the damage."

"Can't we fool the attackers?" suddenly escaped me.

Martin and Rebecca looked at me uncomprehendingly.

"I mean, if all of a sudden there's no data coming in, they know something went wrong, and they try again elsewhere, maybe more skillfully."

Martin nodded. "That would be possible, but how would we get around that?"

"I'm sure they want access to the rooms, secret files and stuff like that. Can't you give them restricted data, something non-critical?"

Now he shook his head.

"No, there are no non-critical files. Once Rebecca enters her password, the attackers have access to everything."

"I already realize that. But what if a fake server were set up? Outdated data, fake lists and your own password?"

He seemed to consider, then inquired, "You mean a honeypot? A trap for the attackers?"

"I don't know the term."

"This is basically exactly what you suggested. The attacker is lured into a fake server and his attack can be analyzed. Ideally, localized as well. But that's very complex. To get that done in a credible way would take days, if not weeks."

"Mistress Rebecca, do you really have to go online this weekend? While are in rehab, there would be enough time to set up something like that. Until then, the attacker would definitely lull himself into safety and not make any other attempt."

Rebecca seemed to think. Then she looked at Martin.

"Is three weeks enough for you to do that?"

"It depends on what you want to put on this server. I need files, otherwise the whole thing will blow up immediately."

"All right, I'll make a list. But to do that, I need to get on the net. Put a new connection in the house and put the existing one out of commission for the now. Do you have a laptop with you that I can use?"

"Yes, I have one in the car."

"All right, let's do it this way. Please start right away. Johanna will cook us something for dinner in the meantime. If you need help, let Aaron help you, I'll be with Johanna in the kitchen."

"All right, I'll get right on it."

Martin turned and walked to the office room where Rebecca's computer was.

"Johanna, please push me into the kitchen."

With the words, "Very well!", I complied with her request.

Once in the kitchen, she asked me to close the door behind us.

"I have another problem besides Holger, though, don't I?"

"What do they mean?"

"The deleted recordings! I didn't know about them, so someone made them without my knowledge. Only Q knew about your interrogation. I didn't even tell Diana until after the fact."

"I would like to show them now, but I don't have them on my phone. I bought a new pad especially for filming because I knew that all my devices were being monitored by them."

She looked at me.

"Did you come up with that on your own?"

"No, Holger had instructed me and warned me that this could happen. He remotely monitored my devices via app and was able to confirm it that way."

Rebecca nodded.

"Obviously, he knows his stuff. In fact, I haven't received the slightest indication that you've made contact with anyone outside. And that's despite the fact that you were under complete surveillance for the first few weeks."

"You should hire Holger, because your investigators seem to have lost me," I blurted out.

A hearty laugh acknowledged my cheeky remark.

"In fact, he seems really good. And unfortunately, in my case, too good. Besides, you must have been very skillful too, that speaks for you."

"But Holger has his weak spot too!"

Rebecca looked at me with interest.

"And that would be?"

"His employees! I know one personally who lives here in town and works for Holger at least on a temporary basis. He helped me set this up. And if Holger has recruited other people in the Rooms, he might know about it, too."

"And why do you think we can find out about him?"

"Because he's a childish idiot! Highly knowledgeable, but sometimes completely stupid."

Her gaze seemed to penetrate me.

"Seems like an interesting story. I'd like to hear more about that, too. You can tell me about it while you start cooking. I'm sure the men will be hungry soon."

Sighing, I began to tell how I had met Sascha and how I had broken into her house with him at the end. When I confessed the story with the rifle, Rebecca was reluctant to comment. But when I mentioned that the police had almost caught me, she insisted on details. So I explained it in great detail. Rebecca burst out laughing when I described how the two policemen wished us a 'good trip' at the end. The pasta casserole almost burned, and while I saved it, she was still laughing.

"You're paying for the lights, you know that, right?" she said when she calmed down. At least for now. Let's see if we can't get this Sascha for it later after all. Well, the food smells delicious, let's serve!"