Bimbo Builder Academy Ch. 10

"You ready?"

I was nervous. It probably showed in the way I paced the hotel room, back and forth across the floor. My hands played with the edges of my polo, tugging and twisting the cloth. Then I stuffed them in my pockets. I felt a cold metal frame under my fingers. Smooth glass.

Lena sat primly on the arm of the couch, arms folded. She had slipped back into her sparkling black cocktail dress from the night before, and I forced myself not to remember following her and Natalie back to her room in the middle of the party. I had to focus.

Danielle leaned around my student to give me a disapproving look. "Hush, Mitch," she ordered. "You're going to make her anxious." The darker-haired young woman knelt on the couch behind the blonde, rubbing her hand soothingly across Lena's back.

I bobbed my head apologetically. "Sorry," I muttered.

In spite of myself, I was amazed by Joseph Clayton's technology. I had no idea how long it would last, or how deep the suggestions went. But after watching just one of Clayton's subliminally-hypnotic video classes, and enjoying some powerful positive reinforcement, Danielle seemed to have been convinced that she should go along with our plans.

"Don't worry, Mitch." Lena's sparkling smile brought me back to reality, but I could hear the edge of nervousness in her voice. "I'm ready..." The nervousness matched mine, and reminded me that I was the one with the easy job. I just had to watch.

I tried to smile back. "Sorry," I said again. "I'm just... yeah. I want you to be okay."

It was almost 7 o'clock, when Lena had told Harrison she would be arriving.

I want us to have a nice, long night together... she'd texted, along with a string of suggestive emojis. The girl had swiftly deleted the picture he'd sent in reply.

Really, though, what we wanted was for Lena and me to have much time as possible for her to execute our plan, for us to interrogate her "father," and for us to come up with a plan for tomorrow.

Tomorrow... But I shut off that line of thinking before it could go anywhere. I had to focus. One problem at a time.

"Danielle," I asked, circling around the coffee table and slumping onto the couch beside the lithe brunette. She was back in her work outfit, and I still loved the way the simple white blouse clung to her torso. But instead of letting my gaze linger on her, I drew both of our eyes to the laptop on the table in front of us. "You said you could get us into the security cameras?"

The young woman nodded, turning and letting her hand trail down Lena's back before it dropped to the keyboard. Lena and I hadn't had much to work with, so I was grateful that Danielle was in the habit of carrying a laptop and school supplies in her satchel. I wasn't sure if she was studying or just recently graduated, but she seemed only a few years older than Lena, at most. The brunette tucked her hair back, then bent over the coffee table, fingers tapping away.

"The hotel is wired pretty much top to bottom," she said as she pulled up a site with the Regent logo, then clicked through several screens to a Login page. "Cameras and audio in every room... If anyone asks, they say it's for security, because of all the visiting celebrities and uber-wealthy businesspeople who stay here while they're in the City. But most people don't worry about it. Records are automatically wiped every 48 hours."

I frowned. "And they give employees access?" That seemed irresponsible, to say the least. Dangerous, even.

Danielle laughed softly. "No." She typed the login credentials, which showed up as little asterisks. "I had a fling with Andy, one of the hunky security guards, a month or two ago. We weren't dating, really, just sex. Drinks a couple times. He logged in once, in front of me. Wanted to show off how much security clearance he had. Or something." The dark-haired woman glanced up and tapped her temple with a finger. "I've got a photographic memory."

I blinked. Impressive. I wanted to question what a young woman with such a sharp mind was doing working in a hotel gift shop, but I got distracted by what was on the laptop screen.

A quick Loading Bar....

"Bingo." Danielle breathed. A simple interface had opened up, one that asked for the room number and password, again.

I nodded, a small flush of relief running through me. "And you can access everything from here?"

Danielle nodded.

Lena slid down onto the couch from the arm and leaned against Danielle's other side. "Well done," she said. "I'm glad to know you'll be watching, and listening." She gave me a look over the brunette's head, as the other woman bent over the computer. "Makes me feel a bit more secure."

I tried to look ready and reassuring. "Don't worry," I told her. "If anything goes wrong..." I hesitated, realizing I'd put my foot in my mouth. "Nothing will go wrong," I finished lamely. "But we'll be watching the whole time, just in case."

The blonde rolled her eyes and laughed softly. "You definitely know how to make a girl feel safe and secure, Mitch."

Her phone bzzed on the table, and she took a deep breath. "Time check?" She didn't reach for the phone.

"6:57," Danielle muttered, retyping the password she'd entered a moment ago. It had been almost half an hour since Lena texted Harrison to tell her that she was on her way.

"Alright," my student said. I saw her swallow, nervously, and wanted to lean across to give her a reassuring hug.

We both stood.

"You ready?" I asked again.

The younger woman rolled her eyes, making a noise of mock exasperation. "I already told you, didn't I?" But she seemed pleased that I'd asked.

I looked down at the computer.

And there he was, Harrison St. John, lounging back against the pillows on the massive bed in his hotel room.

"Crap," I muttered. I almost hadn't expected it to work, but the camera was well-positioned up in one corner of the ceiling and sharp enough to pick out the details of his plaid-patterned boxers. His ample stomach protruded over the elastic waistband, and the standard-issue fluffy white bathrobe was loosely draped around his body so it spread out on the bed underneath him. His hands rested on his stomach and his thumbs tapped lazily at the screen of a smart phone.

Bzzz.

Lena ignored the text, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. Then, she tucked the phone into the front of her dress and nodded to herself. I could see her settling into character, letting the mask of Lena the snobby high-society bitch settle around her like armor. Her mouth grew a little harder, and curled a little in an I'm-better-than-you-and-I-know-it smirk. Her eyes sparkled with flinty self-satisfaction.

It was almost uncanny.

I circled the table, suddenly wary. "Here," I told her. I held out the LucidSpecs. "You're going to need these."

Lena raised an elegant eyebrow at me. "Well thank you so much for the vote of confidence, Professor." The way she said the title struck me. It was entirely different, devoid of any affection and dripping with a reminder that as far as she was concerned "professor" and "servant" were in the same category of profession.

I resisted the instinctive urge to scowl and respond as she took the glasses. This is what she needs to do, I thought. This is the plan. She's just getting into the role.

"Of course," I said, and walked the stunning young woman to the front door.

We stopped in front of it and looked at each other.

"Kiss for luck?" she asked, and through the icy façade I caught the slightest glimmer of worry. Would her past conditioning overpower her? Would Harrison fall under the spell of the videos, like Danielle had? Or would everything go terribly wrong?

I kissed her cheek softly, and felt her tremble slightly under my touch. But I didn't pull away just yet. "You're mine." I murmured it softly in her ear, like a good luck charm, and then leaned back. I nodded, opening the door and waving

Without looking back, Lena crossed to the door across the hall, raised one small hand, and knocked.

It's showtime, I thought, and I hoped that the scene I was about to watch would have a happy ending.

* * *

Danielle, Lena and I weren't in our suite from last night. Not anymore. We were up on the 16^th floor, right across the hall from a plain-looking hotel door that hid an opulent suite of rooms. Danielle had managed to convince one of her friends in housekeeping to let us in up here, after we figured that it was safer for Lena's backup to be as close as possible.

The other woman, middle-aged and with a motherly air, had given us all a look, rolled her eyes indulgently, and then smirked. "Have fun, kids," she'd muttered, before slipping Danielle a keycard and pushing her cleaning cart away down the hallway. I wished what we had planned was as enjoyable and diverting as she had assumed. But we'd spent the whole afternoon fucking and now it was time to work.

I strode back into the living room, sliding down onto the couch beside Danielle and glancing over at the brunette. "Are we ready?" I asked.

The young woman nodded, eyes on the screen. She swiped at the trackpad, moving the mouse over several options. "Yeah," she answered, not looking away. "Just trying to remember how to switch cameras. He's about to go into the other room."

Looking at the screen, I could see Harrison St. John had rolled up off the bed and was belting his robe hurriedly around himself. His mouth moved, calling to Lena at the front door, but I didn't hear anything.

"Audio?" I asked.

"Working on it." Danielle clicked, and the image on screen abruptly switched.

Now, we were looking into a living room remarkably similar to ours except for a slight rearrangement of the furniture. The camera was evidently placed above the front door, so we could see Harrison coming from the bedroom door on the right hand side, turning, and walking toward us. He came closer, tucking his phone into one pocket and running his other hand through his short hair.

From this angle, I could see he was starting to go bald on top. It gave me a slight glow of satisfaction.

Another click.

"—es yes I'm coming, darling!" Harrison's voice was a little tinny over the laptop's speakers, but surprisingly clear. They must have had some powerful microphones hidden in the hotel room across the hall. The man walked underneath the camera, into a blind spot, in fact, and then we could hear the quiet click of a turning lock. "Lena! Darling!"

The man sounded entirely different than he had last night, drunk and horny and demanding, barging into Lena's dorm room at the Academy. He was back to his usual self, pleasantly jovial with a slight air of easygoing compliance.

"Harrison." Lena's voice carried over the microphone as well. "I do apologize if I've kept you waiting too long. But, then, I'm sure you weren't doing anything important." Her tone was haughty and entirely unapologetic, and I almost wanted to cringe as a slight and unwelcome feeling of sympathy jolted through me on behalf of the other man.

I could clearly remember being on the other side of that tone in my classroom.

"No, no..." he hurried to tell her, following the young woman as she walked in.

Danielle and I saw Lena's shoulder-length blonde hair, then her bare back and then the rest of her sashay across the screen into the living room across the corridor.

"What do you think?" Harrison's voice was obsequious and hopeful. "Nice, isn't it?"

"Hmm..." Lena walked around the couch and did a quick turnaround.

I saw her eyes darting around the room and I realized she was looking for the camera. Careful... I thought. We didn't want Harrison getting suspicious.

But, luckily, the man was too busy playing his role as the doting father figure. "I wanted us to be someplace nice, for our first evening together," he said. He had re-entered the frame and was rubbing his hands together slowly. I couldn't tell if he was nervous or anticipatory. "Would you like anything?" he gestured. "We have wine at the bar. I can have cocktails sent up. Or dinner, if you'd like to eat before...?" The man trailed off, and I could tell it was because the Cro-Magnon in his brain had finally registered the presence of the gorgeous ice goddess who had entered his living room.

She was watching him coolly as he fumbled for words. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Are you sure?" He moved left across the screen, toward the small kitchen.

Lena shrugged, waving her hand in a world-weary kind of way. The sequined dress was shimmery in the warmly lit room. "A glass of wine, then." Behind her, the dying rays of sunlight filtered through large windows.

The image on the screen changed as Danielle clicked the trackpad and cycled through several cameras, trying to get a view of the kitchen.

We refocused with a camera behind Lena, across from the couch. The camera seemed to have been nestled above the floor-to-ceiling curtains, and several ruffles of cloth bounded the bottom of the frame. We could see across the room now, to where Harrison had picked up a corkscrew and was carefully opening a bottle of wine.

As he turned his wrist, twisting the screw into the cork, he spoke in a worried tone. "I wanted... ahem." He focused for a moment on the cork, though I could tell he was stalling. There must have been another powerful microphone in the kitchen somewhere, because I could hear the soft squeak of the cork in the neck of the bottle. "I wanted to apologize for last night, my darling."

"Last night?" Lena feigned ignorance, walking toward the kitchen. She leaned up against the other side of the bar that separated the small, tiled cooking area from the living room, on her elbows. The slinky dress fell around her body, hugging the long lines of her legs and the curve of her hips.

"Well, erm, yes." Harrison struggled with the cork, then came free with a satisfying pop. He pulled several nearby glasses closer. "I was quite... well, I'm not too proud to say I was drunk. And quite drunk, in fact, if truth be told. And I know that I was quite demanding of my little girl."

He poured. The wine was dark red, glug glug glugging from the bottle and splashing into the glass. Then, the other. The glasses were quite full. He reached for one of the stems.

Lena reached across the counter before he could hand it to her, her fingers wrapping around his. She leaned forward. Her voice was different, high and breathy, as it came to us through the speakers.

"But Daddy, I was just serving you like any good little girl should..."

I shouldn't have felt a surge of blood shoot straight between my legs at the words, but I could feel my shaft starting to swell. The camera was good enough that I could see Harrison swallow nervously, obviously uncertain if she was toying with him. I wondered when the cave man half of his brain would win out and take control, horny and demanding and wanting nothing more than her body for his service. I worried that if Lena got him worked up and he tried to trigger her, she would be forced into an impossible situation.

I felt my body tensing up, like I wanted to jump through the screen to her rescue.

But, it seemed, she knew Harrison better than I did. Maybe he needed to work himself into the mood. Because instead of responding with more flirtation, or with her trigger phrase, he blushed and fumbled with the glasses, coughing uncomfortably and lifting one of them her way.

Lena took it with a soft sigh of gratitude, then entirely turned her back on the man to lean back against the bar. "I have something to show you," she said. Her voice was normal again, and I could tell her push and pull was having the desired effect on Harrison St. John. I realized, now, what she'd done. She'd gotten the man off balance, and now she was in control as he searched for equilibrium.

"Yes?" he asked eagerly. He took the second glass of wine and carried it around the counter. He glanced between her and the couch, then took the safer route. He walked to the sofa, settled back against the cushions and then spoke again. "What is it?" He tossed a glance over his shoulder, watching as Lena raised her glass to her sculpted lips.

"Mmm," she said, nodding and sipping at the wine. She made the act of drinking look elegant, classy and cold, all at the same time. "Do you have a laptop?"

Watching from the couch-facing camera over the windows, I could see the tail-end of Harrison's confused expression as he half-turned towards the young blonde again. "Yes, for work... Why?"

"Good," Lena nodded. "Be a dear and bring it out here for us."

Harrison hesitated. I could see the gears turning in his mind. But he stood obediently, white robe swishing around his bare calves as he walked to his bedroom. The instant that he was gone, Lena reached across the bar and quietly poured almost all of her wine down the sink.

Then, slowly, she moved across to the couch, slipping gracefully down with her back against one arm and managing to adopt an air of relaxation and grace even though I could only imagine how nervous she must be. My own heart was pounding in my chest, and I knew that every minute we were getting closer to either success or disaster.

"Harrison?" Lena called. "What's taking you so long?"

I frowned. "Check the bedroom?"

Nothing.

I turned. "Danielle, can you switch us back to the bedroom camera?"

The brunette was furrowing her brows, staring at the screen. "Hmm... Ahem, oh, yes." She blinked several times, and cycled to the correct camera.

"Thank you." I hoped my voice hadn't been too harsh, but I was on edge.

"Mmm."

But I didn't have time to worry about it because I was watching Harrison as he moved quickly to pull a laptop bag from inside his suitcase. It had been underneath a layer of folded clothes, and I got the idea that Harrison hadn't been planning on doing much work here tonight.

"Coming, darling!" the man called. He had set his wine on the bedside table and took a hasty gulp before he unzipped the bag. Squaring his shoulders and tugging at the belt of his robe, the man scooped up the big silver laptop.

"And... Back to the living room." I felt like a director on set, commanding my crew as Danielle switched cameras and we were once again watching Lena on the couch.

The blonde had slipped off her shoes and curled her feet up underneath her. The sunset light, coming through the windows, gave the living room a warm, comforting air. For a moment, I could almost imagine I was just watching a young woman at her father's hotel room, preparing to show him a project she'd been working on at school while he visited for family weekend. Except for the way Lena's fingers stroked at the wine glass suggestively, and her eyes heated up when Harrison sat on the couch beside her.

Through the speakers came the soft clink of the man's wine glass settling on the low, glass-topped coffee table in front of them. Then the slightly louder clunk of his laptop. He flipped it open with one hand, not looking at it, his eyes roaming over Lena's figure while his hand settled on the back of the couch near hers.

I felt a flicker of something in my chest as his fingers slowly reached out and brushed across hers. Protectiveness... I thought. But no... Jealousy? It couldn't be. I brushed the thought aside and focused on the matter at hand.

Lena's eyes slid closed, lashes fluttering. She raised the nearly-empty glass of wine to her lips again. She drained it, and I saw Harrison's expression turn surprised as she lowered it with a gentle sigh.

"More wine?" The man's round face was uncertain. "That was... well, I wouldn't judge you, darling, but... that was quick."