Cruise (6 page)

“Not a chance, and a good thing you didn’t try them either. There was enough poison in each cake to kill a Hanoveraner. Nasty stuff too. Not very subtle, but one bite would probably have done it.”

“How nice. What else?”

“Well, it seems that you interrogated these boys and that they told you who the sender was, but you neglected to tell us.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I was a bit wound up and just didn’t believe them anyway. One said something about Brillcart. Mean anything to you?”

“Yes and no. Two of the perps, the ones without the broken jaws and a few teeth remaining, gave us the same name under questioning. But we didn’t get anything else and now it’s too late.”

“Judge sprung ‘em?” Bibi said.

“No, they died in the bathroom of the jail. Right under a guard’s nose. All three got hold of some kind of death pill. Weird stuff, according to the med. Right now, we have three dead bodies and just ‘Brillcart’.”

“Beats me,” said Bibi.

“Yeah, me too, but I thought I’d ask. You going to be around for awhile?”

“Well, no. Jean Groff and I have another assignment that might run for a few months, if we’re lucky. Security for a rich Scandinavian family on a big yacht in the Caribbean. I fly to Miami tomorrow. But you can reach me by e-mail if you need me.”

“Sounds like a vacation in the sun. I doubt we’ll need you, so have a good time. But Bibi…”

“Yes?”

“The next time someone tries to kill you, please leave us enough pieces to perhaps get some decent information out of them.”

“Bye, Frey. Thanks,” said Bibi. She finished packing and went to the airport where she and Karine kissed a fond good-bye and both headed for their own destinations.

Karine left the international terminal at Tegel Airport and, looking for a vacant cab, she spotted a familiar-looking private limo standing near the far curb. She waved and the driver moved the car at once, stopping in front of her and jumping out, smiling broadly.

“You are free?’ she asked.

“Sure,” said the driver. “Where do you want to go?”

“Can you take me to the Kempenski?” Karine asked, recalling that she and Bibi had stayed there once when they were only spending one night in Berlin and then flying out early the next day.

“Of course, Miss,” the driver said, opening the rear door and taking her large shoulder bag.

Karine ducked her head, stepped into the cab and was surprised to see, sitting in the rear seat, a rather portly, balding, older man with a cherub-like face, grinning at her over a pair of narrow spectacles perched on the end of his nose. In his gloved hand was what looked like an aerosol can of something and as she started to back out of the cab, he sprayed her in the face with a pleasant-smelling liquid and reached out, grabbed Karine’s silk scarf and pulled her into the auto.

Karine stumbled on the car’s carpeted floor and toppled head first onto the seat. The fat man grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her to him so that her face was in his lap, quietly telling the driver to close the door and get moving. He pulled her limp hands behind her back and yanked the collar of her jacket down and back, sliding it easily off her inert arms. He was less refined with the cotton shirt and bra, both of which he cut with a small pocket knife and pulled from her body. The razor sharp blade of the knife easily slashed through the lizard skin belt, skin-tight jeans and bikini panties.

In less than the time it took the taxi to reach the airport boundary, Karine was stripped naked and still lying with her head buried in the man’s crotch, breathing quietly as he explored her body with both hands.

“Perhaps we can give you a quick test right here,” the man said, as he used nylon flexi-cuffs to secure Karine’s wrists behind her back and then another to pull her elbows until they touched and her arms formed a cruel Y from shoulders to hands. He pushed her over onto the right side of the wide, deeply cushioned leather seat and opened his trousers, exposing an already enlarged cock poking its head out of his dark green silk undershorts. With no effort, he then hoisted Karine onto this lap, spreading her knees wide so that she straddled him. Two more long flexi-cuffs went around Karine’s ankles and were easily connected to her wrists, creating a strict hogtie, bending her back away from her captor. Holding her with one arm around her waist, he slipped his rampant cock inside the warm, soft pussy. Aroused by the strict bondage, even though she was semi-conscious, Karine gave a soft groan and moved her hips forward to accommodate the invader.

“Well, my dear little slut. Seems like we will make a nice S&M team. You are the M and I am the S,” the man chuckled. “I think, however, that some additional accessories are in order,” he said, thrusting slowly into the already damp and accommodating pussy. “Just in case we need them when you wake up with this huge dick up inside you.”

The gag he chose from the small side pocket on the car’s rear door was a mouth-filling bulb of clear plastic with a matching strap that went around Karine’s lower face and was tightened with a roller buckle behind her head. He had to jam it roughly against her teeth and force it into her cramped mouth, but it went in all the way. On the portion of the bulb that extended outside Karine’s mouth was a small calibrated dial, much like one on a radio or air conditioning control. The letters S, M and B were shown on the dial. The fat man turned the dial and observed with fascination as the bulb expanded inside Karine’s mouth. Her jaws opened up, her chin extending downward as he moved the dial past M and all the way to B. Still groggy from the stunning spray, Karine groaned and gurgled past the gag.

“B,” said the man, “Is for Big. And this is as big as this gag gets. I think you’ll enjoy it as it matches my dick inside you. Big is something you should get used to, Karine, because all three of your main body openings will soon experience big things. Actually, big, bigger and perhaps even biggest...”

The fat man laughed to himself and reached for the blindfold on the seat next to them, the final accessory for the moment. This was a simple affair with soft cotton pads that went over each eye and also had the transparent strap that fastened behind the head. He tightened the blindfold, arranged Karine’s long hair so that her face was mostly obscured and then proceeded to fuck her slowly as the car sped south along the autobahn. It would be a long ride and the man intended to enjoy this new piece of ass throughout the trip. Starting with a routine fucking was merely the beginning. The Mercedes had several features which, over the next five hours or so, would allow the two in the back to engage in a Kama Sutra menu of erotic and sadistic activities.

Perhaps,
the man thought
, I might even share this nice ass with Max. He will need a break from driving in a few hours.

Although the pressure of the two straps distorted her facial features somewhat, Karine’s long hair, falling around her face, covered the blindfold and gag. If anyone could have seen the two figures mated in the back seat of the AMG Mercedes, they would have probably assumed that this couple was enjoying the luxury ride in an intimate fashion. The hog tie, blindfold and gag were essentially invisible.

Karine didn’t know it, but she had just met Brillcart.

They drove most of the afternoon and arrived at a small airport outside Munich. The car went through a guard post and then half way around the airport to the general aviation area and, after passing through two more cursory security posts where the guards didn’t even look inside, arrived at the side of a small private jet, a Citation X with the boarding stairs extended and the cabin door open. By now, Karine was wrapped in a large blue blanket and her legs were bound at the ankles and knees, but the hogtie was no longer in use, Brillcart having used her in several other positions that merited more leg freedom. She was quickly transported by Max, the driver from the car, up the stairs and into the rear compartment of the aircraft.

The driver left. Brillcart, after speaking to the two pilots, entered the passenger cabin and seated himself in the only real chair. Karine was slumped on a couch that ran along the port side of the plane, her hands and arms still behind her and her ankles now chained to a ring mounted on the end of the couch. A young woman in a short black skirt, fishnet hose and much too high, black stiletto heels came forward from the small galley in the rear of the aircraft. She had a name badge that said “Florence”, on her crisply starched white shirt. She nodded to Brillcart and looked at Karine. Brillcart gestured in a cursory manner to her, waving one hand in a flourish much as the Pope waves at a crowd from his armored vehicle. Florence went to Karine, knelt at the side of the couch, unwrapped the blanket and studied the girl.

“She looks dead,” the woman said, reaching down and feeling Karine’s throat pulse.

“Dead tired, perhaps,” laughed Brillcart. “Max and I alternated. She has been cunt-fucked, ass-fucked, mouth-fucked and even spent an hour with her ankles hooked to her nose.”

“What?” said the woman, noting the small amount of blood in Karine’s nostrils. “You nose-fucked her?”

“No, no. Just those little Japanese nose hooks tied back over her head to her hog-tied ankles. Just for comic effect. She didn’t like it though,” Brillcart said. “Remind me to have her nose ringed when we get her to Zurich.”

The woman switched the flexi-cuffs for handcuffs and added another set to Karine’s ankles. From a small hassock that served as a storage bin, Florence removed a wide metal band and fitted it around Karine’s legs just above the knee, locking it with a small padlock.

“Collar her for now,” Brillcart said, not even looking up from his newspaper as the Cessna’s twin turbine engines spooled up and the brakes released. “If you wish, use her to amuse yourself once we get to cruising altitude. I’m going to the cockpit for the rest of the flight.”

The uniformed woman nodded and sat down on the couch, using Karine’s plush ass as a seat cushion and fastening the built-in seat belt. She ran her hand over the smooth thighs and then, looking at Brillcart, shrugged as though to say: “she isn’t my type”.

***

Much later that day, while Bibi flew to Miami, Emil Brillcart ranted and raved at his associates in a large and secluded country villa outside Zurich. Screaming and gesticulating wildly, the short, fat, bald man, who looked like the stereotype watchmaker that he in fact was, berated the assembly of goons from three countries as they stood in his dimly lit office, posed uncomfortably in front of his monster desk.

“You are all idiots,” he screamed in his deeply accented Swiss German. The words came out with a mixture of unseen venom and flying spittle as he struggled unsuccessfully to control himself after learning of the failure of his three henchmen in Berlin. “I send three perfectly good men off to do a tiny, tiny little job on this annoying German cow in Berlin and they are all DEAD. Dead, do you hear me?” The surrounding group of men and women sheepishly lowered their heads and a few heels came together involuntarily.

“They took the pills,” muttered one large, very fit looking, ex professional wrestler in the back of the group.

“Idiots. Morons. Fools,” babbled Brillcart, thumping his desk so hard that the assortment of expensive watch parts bounced up and down on the dark green cushion covering half the desktop. “Those pills were for the bitch, not for them. If the cake didn’t work, they were supposed to put the pills in her soup or her tea or anything that she might eat or drink. Failing that, they were to throw her out the window of her apartment. Instead, the Idiot Trio gets themselves beaten up, arrested and then, after spilling the beans on me, take the easy way out. My God. I am surrounded by incompetence. Out of here. All of you. Now. I need to think.” The group quickly edged towards the single exit of the office.

“Not you, Hermann,” Brillcart screamed at a slightly smaller man with long black hair in a pony tail.

“Me?” the man said, imagining the worst.

“You,” Brillcart repeated with additional venom. “And close the fucking door.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, I know you did very well throwing a little rubber ball around in the grass over in Munich. I also know that it wasn’t your lack of athletic skills for the Volleyball Club Bayern Munchen that got you fired. Your problem, Hermann, was in kicking senseless several members of the opposing teams. Ja?”

“True,” the man said, raising his chin a bit and trying not to stare too hard at Brillcart. He knew that his boss knew that he was fired after two different incidents involving the police and four members of a visiting ball team who had mysteriously been beaten nearly to death in their hotel rooms. Lacking enough evidence to charge him, the cops released Hermann and the team owners fired him the next morning. So now he was an errand boy for this megalomaniac who, when he wasn’t molesting lovely young things in his cellar, hand-made exotic time pieces with multiple complications and prices that ran into seven figures.

“Now, dear boy, I want you to get your sweet little queer ass on a Lufthansa flight to Miami and do something about this annoying bitch.”

“The one who beat up our guys?”

“Who else?”

“But she’s in Berlin.”

“Not for long. She’s meeting a yacht in Miami and you need to waylay her before she gets aboard and out of our reach.”

“How do you know that?” Hermann blurted out before thinking.

“As a matter of fact, you fuckin’ dullard, I have a watch customer in Munich who is quite desperate for a very special timepiece that I just haven’t gotten around to finishing. It will have some interesting features that she apparently thinks she cannot live without and she is willing to pay the ridiculous price I have set on this masterpiece of my ingenuity and skill. She also keeps track of the cow’s travel plans.”

“You want her eliminated?” Hermann asked.

“Of course, I fuckin’ want her eliminated. What do you think the three morons went up there to do, dance with her?”

“Of course. Sorry. How do you want it done?”

“Ideally,” Brillcart mused, putting his small fingers into a steeple/prayer position in front of his chest. “I want her back here where she and I can have a nice session or two. She would be useful to me in several situations…but, if apprehension is not possible, she must not leave Miami alive.”