Dreamboat Ch. 07

"Are you sure, sir? A ... uh.., hostile takeover might draw negative attitudes... Very well, sir. I'll organise the operation as soon as the target shares are uncovered."

Moran mopped his brow.

"And a good night to you too, sir," he finished, pressing the disconnect button. "And may you rot in hell with fire demons eating your cock, you nasty old fuck!"

He checked again that the call was disconnected, then started calling on his management team.

*****

Sasha was sweating hard as she sank down onto her haunches and pulled the load up onto her shoulder. The RIB was back on board, the rescued boat tied to the stern, and now all she had to do was get the load to the cabin.

There was a weak protest from the load as the Russian girl grunted and then drove up off her haunches into a standing position like a weightlifter. After that it was relatively easy to carry the woman up onto the deck and, after a few tries, carry her along the side of the cabin to the rear deck and then inside.

Wren shot to her feet.

"Jesus! Who the fuck is that?"

"Don't know. Her boat is broken. I fetch here."

The blond leapt to her feet and laid a towel on the bed alongside Reid. Sasha laid her load down as gently as she could, although the woman moaned with pain.

Wren examined her carefully. Covered from neck to toe in a long, sopping wet blue dress, with loose brown trousers beneath, the woman's head was covered with a black hajib. Her feet were bare and slightly blue. The blood on her dress, swirled into a wide rusty stain from seawater, all seemed to be from a nasty gash on her left forearm. Wren felt her skin. "She has hypothermia. We need to get these clothes off her."

Sasha looked blank.

"She's wet and cold, too cold. We need to get her warmed up," explained Wren.

"I am wet and cold also," Sasha pointed out conversationally.

"True," Wren said. "You get in the shower and I'll sort our mystery guest out."

"Careful," Sasha said, and nodded at the semi-conscious woman. "We don't know her."

Wren gave the Russian girl a hug and kissed her cheek. "Two days ago we didn't know you either. Go shower. Get warm."

The brunette stripped off unselfconsciously and disappeared into the tiny bathroom. Wren heard the shower start up, followed by a long groan of pleasure.

She turned back to her new patient and began to undress her, rubbing her hard with a towel as each piece of clothing was removed. The wet hajib came off to reveal short, black hair. The dress was harder to remove until Wren realised that she was wearing a man's khaki shirt beneath it, confusing efforts to disrobe her.

Finally the dress and shirt came off, revealing smooth, olive-toned skin. She was quite tall for a woman, the blond estimating her height to be around five ten. She was slim with medium breasts under a plain white bra that covered the mounds completely, allowing no hint of a cleavage at all.

Wren simply raised her eyebrows and went to work on getting the woman's trousers down and off her legs, which wasn't helped when the woman became restless and kept murmuring, "Na! Na!"

The blond knew that the semi-conscious woman needed warmth above all else, and stripped the pants from her, immediately getting to work with a towel on the cold, clammy feet. She had experienced hypothermia personally and nursed it in others while on the street. A quick, unexpected snow storm would regularly cull the street sleepers, usually lulling them into a cold-induced sleep from which they never awoke.

Five minutes of gentle but firm towelling brought the colour of the feet and legs back to normal and Wren moved onto removing the woman's panties. These were the biggest undergarment she had ever seen and she took a moment to take it in.

The thick, plain white material stretched from above her navel down over a softly rounded belly to what looked like a double layered gusset before proceeding half way down her thighs, like cycling shorts but without any of their dubious attractions. A piece of string had been tied around the waistband and cinched tight.

"Like armour," noted Sasha, leaning over for a closer look as she towelled her hair dry. She picked up the woman's clothing, added her own to the bundle and headed back to the bathroom. "Wash these now."

"Wait," said Wren. She quickly untied the knotted string and drew the panties down and off, handing them to the Russian girl who disappeared. The woman continued to struggle weakly. "Na, na!"

Only when the blond wrapped a thick blanket around her, and tucked in the sides to turn her into a human sausage roll did the woman stop struggling and fall into a deep sleep.

Wren sat next to her, examining her face carefully. She had a very good idea of some of the things this woman had been through, for her to try and guard herself like this.

Another wounded bird. Whoever was controlling the boat had some fucked up sense of humour.

*****

P.S.

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