No-LIMIT-Rooms 01 English

Before that I was arrested by security and afterwards I had to satisfy myself urgently. After that I had been too tired for anything else, I added in my mind.

"Never mind, then I can surprise you with my research and ideas about it. I didn't find your go/nogo list. Have you filled those out yet?

"No, not yet either," I admitted.

"Then let's get started on it, if you don't mind."

I shifted a little uncomfortably in my chair. This was already very intimate. Surprised, I realized that I was suddenly embarrassed. Damn, he had already seen everything of me. And I myself was not usually embarrassed.

"All right, but I don't have the list with me."

"Never mind, we can do that right over the pad. We can switch those together, and go through the list together."

Very, very intimate.

"All right.", I agreed imperceptibly hesitantly.

The list was quite extensive. For example, whether I would be willing to do anal - yes, bondage - absolutely, deepthroat - if I must, electro-torture - sure, caviar - no, golden showers - limited, and so it went on. Actually, I ticked yes to most of the answers. Both active and passive. Experience in Shibari I could also indicate. Thomas went through this with me very pleasantly, without it becoming embarrassing. Also delicate things he asked without the undertone of an evaluation. However, it did not escape me that this topic nevertheless had a certain effect on him. Professional or not, he was not yet jaded. But then we were through with it.

"Let's get to you and your name. A kumiho is an Asian, nine-tailed fox spirit or fox demon. It can take the form of a human, usually in the form of a beautiful woman, drinks human blood, and has incredible power."

"So a kind of vampire?", I asked, puzzled.

"No, not a vampire. The kumiho doesn't have to drink human blood to survive. He can move around in daylight without any problems, and is otherwise indistinguishable from a human when transformed. He is cunning and likes to play tricks on people. However, he is afraid of large bodies of water, and in the moonlight his true nature is revealed. Then his, otherwise invisible to human eyes, nine tails become visible to all."

"Wow, sounds interesting." I was honestly taken with that. "How do I have to imagine the tails?

"That's up to your imagination. There's no standard lore." He typed something on his tablet, and several images appeared on mine. Both old, historical engravings, as well as modern manga and even real-life footage, presumably from movies.

"I like that. But I guess there wouldn't be a costume for that?" Laughing, I tapped a movie image.

Thomas grinned. "Don't need one for that. Deepfake, remember? If you want those, we can make them appear on you via AI."

"Appear how?", I asked, uncomprehending.

With an enthusiastic face, he launched into it, "We're going to base your shows entirely on this character: an immortal demon who travels through time. Pursued by inquisitions, governments, crime syndicates, and gods. You can work with that plot in any room, it's going to be an endless continuing story."

I pondered this for a few moments, letting it run through my head. Had something going for it: not just snotty jabbering and torture in bondage, but a real plot.

"But then I'm just a victim, not Top. I thought I was supposed to be used as Top, too?", I inquired.

"That's the second part of the story. You're looking for something yourself, too." He shrugged. "What exactly I haven't thought of yet. Maybe a treasure, a lost lover, or..."

"A sister." I murmured, lost in thought.

"Yeah, that's good." he agreed enthusiastically.

I cringed. Had I really just said that out loud? I pulled myself together, smiling.

"Um, yeah, sounds good. That would be the plot. So where do we go from here?"

Enthusiastically, he rambled on, "Well, first we need to determine your appearance, and work out exactly what you can do, and what your weaknesses are. You've already impressively proven that you're strong." He sent me a link on the pad.

It was the footage from the day before yesterday. However, edited together on my flogging. The footage was, wow. That looked dramatic. Couldn't even remember that I was also being filmed from the front as I was being whipped. My facial expression was downright ecstatic. And for the first time I could also see my back. Ouch, that looked bad. The final scene, where my name was auctioned off and then my chains were removed, had been cut together and thus given a completely different meaning. The whole video could now be taken to mean that I had been tortured, then faked fainting, freed from the cross and put in chains, but then had the executioner remove my chains. Astonished, I looked at Thomas.

Grinning all over his face, he beamed back. "Do you like it? Sat on it with Charly for a few more hours yesterday. He was thrilled with my pitch and gave his OK. Rebecca has already agreed, too."

Charly, the mysterious director in the background. I wonder if I ever actually met him.

"Who is Charly exactly?"

"He's the main director and producer of the show. Only Rebecca is higher up. But normally he only works from the control room. He avoids real contact with the performers."

"But not with you?"

"I'm not a performer. I'm his eye."

"Should I call you Lens or Bosley now?"

It takes him a while to make the connection. Then he snorted. "I prefer Lens. It's not like you're an angel." We laughed together.

"No, a demon, or ghost," I confessed as I caught my breath. "With nasty ulterior motives and incredibly strong."

Thomas wiped a laughing tear from the corner of his eye. "Exactly. So, what do you say?"

"I'm in. What's next?"

"Well, today I have another shoot. Tomorrow you jumped in, so I'm in too. I'll talk to Charly and Rebecca again, to see if we can changed the story yet.

Then you get in tomorrow as Kumiho full. We cut the trailer from the recordings, and possibly make more solo recordings with you the day after tomorrow. Best studio hopping"

"Studio hopping?", I asked uncomprehendingly. Before my inner eyes I saw myself bouncing one-legged in front of the camera.

"Yes, we do short shoots in all the studios."

"Sounds time-consuming. What about pay?"

"Oh, I get paid for it, you don't. After all, it's for you to generate viewers. And if enough vote that you should be the main star, you'll have the top prize."

"Makes sense to me," I nodded.

"You can rummage through the trove and come up with outfits. Zap around the rooms, too, so you can get an idea of what to expect. So far, you've only seen 11."

Speaking of 11, "I left my riding crop in the studio the day before yesterday, but it was occupied just then, so I couldn't get in and look for it."

I didn't have to tell him that I had already looked for it yesterday in vain, and had been arrested in the process.

He frowned. "I went to Studio 11 yesterday, and there was nothing lying around. You sure?"

I nodded. "Yeah, must be in the back of the locker room."

"No, there was nothing there. I'm in charge of cleanliness, and had to check that everything was left clean for the shoot today. That includes the social areas." Suddenly his expression brightened. "I'm sure it ended up in the prop box. And it went back into the props box." He tapped something into the tray. "They'll need some more time, so we can't interrupt now. But I'll write a note to have them look for it later. Then you'll get them back tomorrow at the latest."

"That would be wonderful," I smiled at him. I'm very attached to this whip. And it was expensive."

Thomas nodded. "So, in principle, we're through. If you have no more questions for now?"

I considered. "Not for now." I pointed to the pad. "And I know how to reach you now."

He rose from the chair. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. I have to go to another studio. About tomorrow."

Immediately my curiosity jumped. "Do you mind if I come with you? I'd be dying to know."

He noticeably hesitated, but then nodded in agreement. "Why not, you have to get to know it anyway. Come on, you'll get a tour. I guess your last one failed."

He led me around the hallway. "We have 8 studios here, the break room at one end, the fundus at the other. Behind the studios run the emergency exits and escape routes, as well as the paths for the technology and sets."

I interrupted him. "How big is all this, and how could it be built secretly underground?"

Thomas grinned. "It wasn't at all. The whole complex was properly permitted, built and officially approved."

My mouth dropped open. "No kidding?"

"You're standing here in the underground parking garage," he snorted. It was supposed to be officially closed and backfilled after construction because of construction defects. Wasn't done, of course."

"Construction defects?", I asked anxiously. "Does that mean the whole building could fall on our heads at any moment?"

"Of course not. The construction defects were invented to camouflage the facility after the fact. That erased the basement from the records, and no official ever comes down here to check anything. A new underground garage was built next door, which is now officially the garage for this. And all the basement emergency exits lead to it. Plus, that's also how the VIPs get into the complex."

Slowly, I put the picture together in my head. Monstrous. To plan and implement something like this unnoticed, in the middle of a major German city, while keeping it completely secret, required incredible foresight, preparation and, of course, money. Moreover, it was downright cheeky. The naughty German investigators would never have thought of it if it hadn't been revealed. Which immediately gave me another sinking feeling in my stomach. How did they assure themselves of the secrecy, the models and the employees in the long run? That was the next mystery.

"This will be your studio tomorrow," Thomas snapped me out of my thoughts.

It was a gray door, with the number 15.

"Modern? What does that actually mean?"

Thomas shrugged. "Everything and nothing. Can call it neutral. The backdrops are not very special, can easily be changed. For example, while in 11 and 12 the walls have a solid rock structure that looks like a castle or basement dungeon, or 17 and 18 walls like in the hospital OP, here there is neutral white plaster. If necessary, we put up mock walls. Also, the other studios usually have large equipment that's not as portable."

Immediately, the rack, cross and pillory came to mind, which had been massively anchored. "And Future?"

"Steel and aluminum. Like Starship Enterprize."

I didn't need to ask about Nazi. A setting that really bothered me. Especially in the middle of Germany. We entered the studio, and Thomas turned on the lights on his pad. Oh, that's how it worked. I could look for a long time. The studio here was similar to Studio 11, except for the backdrops. The floor of the stage was made of waterproof PVC, the whole set looked like stolen from a quiz TV show. The challenge equipment was already set up, and I walked closer to take a look.

"Well, well, well, who's going to be so curious?", Thomas held me back. "You'll find out all about that tomorrow. Let me surprise you!"

I hated this saying from the bottom of my heart. I was about to retort something, but Thomas just pushed me out the door again. "See you tomorrow. Away you curious demon!"

I threw my most fearful Kumiho curse at him, sticking my tongue out. "Old sadist."

He closed the door laughing.

As soon as the door was closed, my grin went out. Kumiho - through all the torture chambers in search of her sister. What an absolutely implausible story....

At the doctor's my wounds were treated and the bandage was renewed once again. My back was otherwise still green and blue. That would remain also still some days in such a way. At the shoot the next day, I had to wear a costume that covered my back.

But I had already picked one out in the fundus and had it reserved for tomorrow. In fact, I was more and more taken with Thomas' idea, and excited to see what else was planned for me. In my mind, I began to get more and more excited about this role. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening at my tablet and PC at the same time, searching for ideas and research for my new alter ego Kumiho.

Reality intruded, in the form of a new text message from Holger, into my new fantasy escape world: "Sent your greetings to mother and she sends her warmest regards back. Can you still remember the little cat from earlier? Her granddaughter has had a new litter. Two are females. She wants to name one of the little animals after you. Unbelievable what? Love Holger"

I was electrified. There was good news.

"How cute.", I typed back. "What color is she?"

"Gray and white mackerel."

"Give her my best again, and tell her thank you so much. I'm glad."

And I really, really, really did!

That night I could barely find my way to sleep from excitement. I didn't feel like masturbating. My thoughts only circled around the news. What was behind it? I could hardly restrain my impatience.

Suddenly I startled. I had to show something for it. Quidproquo. Was what I had't found out enough? So I got up and got out my notebook and pen, and started writing everything down. I fiddled with the wording for a long time and used the math app on my phone to help me. Writing by hand is so antiquated, slow and laborious, and suddenly I had to laugh at what I was doing. But not heartily, rather desperately.

Far too early the alarm woke me. I had barely slept two hours. Unwrapping the bandage, I took a long shower. Then I got dressed and had some breakfast. Then I called the front desk. "Good morning... I just wanted to inquire if my riding whip had been turned in... Really? That's great. I'll be right down to get it."

In a flash, I was downstairs picking up the whip. Back in my apartment, I immediately sat down on my bed and took in her overjoyed. Then I removed the pin that attached the wrist strap to it and pulled the handle apart. The small secret compartment, which was now revealed, was just big enough to hide small things or smuggle them across borders. Like small rolled up bills, gems - or even SD cards.

Twenty minutes later, I walked through the reception hall.

"Good morning Johanna.", Rebecca stopped me. "You want to leave the house so early?

Shivers ran through my limbs. "Uh, good morning Rebecca. I have some shopping to do."

She sauntered toward me, heels clicking menacingly. Suddenly, there was a bang behind me. I winced, turned around, and saw a man from the cleaning service struggling to right the overturned service cart.

"Oh, let me help you," Rebecca offered.

I turned back to her, and saw her bending over in front of me.

"You dropped your purse," she stated.

Staring in shock, I watched as she slowly sorted the contents of my purse back inside. Elegantly, she straightened up, holding my purse in one hand and my notes in the other.

"Now, now. You're all pale, my dear. Are you all right?

I nodded dumbly.

"What do you have here that's beautiful, love notes?" she asked with a smile, looking at the notes. She turned them over once and fanned them out. After a brief skim, she handed the notes and purse back to me. "That's a long shopping list. Do you want to buy all this stuff today?"

"Uh, no. That's just me jotting down what I think I'll need for the next few days." I had myself back under control. How could the purse have fallen out of my hand?

"Thank you," I amended. "I have to go now."

"Why, certainly, my dear. I just wanted to remind you that you have a shoot later. Don't be late."

I nodded again and turned to exit.

"Have a great time at the pub," Rebecca called after me.

Without turning around, I raised my right hand and waved my fingers. Then I was outside, taking a deep breath.

As planned, I went into several stores, bought one thing or another from my list, and then threw it, crumpled up, into a wastebasket, on a side street, before settling down, lapping up an ice cream, for a break on a bench. Then, at about 12:00, I strolled past a pet store to a stationery store. There, I rotated the greeting card racks, selected one with two gray and white tabby kittens on it, and headed for the cash register. "The card is dog-eared," the clerk pointed out to me. "You should pick another one."

"No, that's okay, I don't mind. I like the design so much." I paid, and walked, carrying my shopping bags back to my apartment building. On the way, I paused again, sat down on a bench, looked around to see if I was being watched, and then looked closely at the card. Inside the envelope accompanying the card was a paper-thin note with a message.

I was thanked for what I had already found out and was further advised to be extra careful. I should lay low for now. My cell phone had been compromised. But we had expected that. The most important part of the message was:

She was alive. She had been identified on a 2-month-old surveillance video. On Cyprus.