Chapter 22: Confessions

To my surprise, 11 was waiting for us too. So each of us had our own personal slave to freshen up. But the doc was also there to take care of our wounds. At least this time I didn’t have to be carried to the hospital on a stretcher, even though I was exhausted and hungry. After using the restroom and taking a quick shower, I went straight to the makeshift treatment room, where I was examined very thoroughly. Open wounds were disinfected, bruises were treated with ointments, and then I was given another pharaoh’s bandage from my neck to my ankles.

Isabell was treated immediately afterwards. Although her injuries weren’t quite as bad, she was also mummified accordingly. The slaves had probably used a kilometer of gauze. When we looked at each other afterwards, we both had to giggle. After helping us into our bathrobes, the two slaves disappeared without a word.

The doc had already left earlier. I had found him friendly and talkative during his rounds at the hospital, but down here he seemed to more or less ignore me. You could also describe it as highly professional detachment. He was definitely not gay, as I had discovered when he examined my naked body and I caught a glimpse of his midriff. Somehow, I had the impression that he didn’t like working here. Had he been bribed or blackmailed? Was it so difficult to find sadistic doctors who enjoyed working down here? When I thought back on my experience in the scene, doctors did indeed seem to be underrepresented. Lawyers were more common.

“Where to now?” I asked Isabell after we had recovered.

“What about food? I heard there’s a buffet up front.”

“Well then, why are we still standing here?”

Soon I knew where 11 and 17 had disappeared to. Together with the other three in maid latex costumes, they were serving the team that was already eating. As soon as we crossed the stage, applause broke out again. I looked around in amazement. All the tables were occupied by people I hadn’t seen down here before, but who were obviously not guests. They were dressed in casual or work clothes. I recognized our recording team, with the exception of the trio and Linses. They had pushed some tables together and were sitting together. When we arrived, there was a hello and another table and two chairs were hurriedly organized for us.

The three women I had seen on Friday evening were also sitting here. I couldn’t see Q anywhere. The two camerawomen were introduced to me as Tina and Ina. Both had blonde hair, but that was their only thing in common. Tina was in her mid-30s, plump, and about 5’7”. Ina, on the other hand, was in her early 20s, very slim, and almost 5’11”. She had a somewhat austere face.

The third was called Malin, was brunette, in her early 20s, very slim and had pretty gray-blue eyes above a snub nose. She was an assistant and helped with all activities around the stage. She was also responsible for lighting and assisted the sound engineers and camera operators.

Before we had to take care of anything ourselves, 11 came to the table. I couldn’t see 17 anywhere.

“What can I get you to drink?”

I looked at her in surprise. Those were the first words I had heard her say in the last three days. Apparently, she was now allowed to speak, or at least ask necessary questions.

I shook my head. “No need, I’ll choose something myself, thank you!”

Her eyes looked desperate: “Please, mistress, I have instructions to serve you.”

“Instructions? From whom? Never mind, silly question, from Rebecca, of course.”

To my surprise, she shook her head. “Mistress Diana gave me instructions. Now, what can I bring you?”

“Champagne,” Isabell replied for me. “Preferably a whole bottle!”

“Very well,” confirmed 11. “And would you like to choose something from the buffet, or shall I bring you a selection?”

“No, thank you. I’ll put something together myself. Come on, Isabell, my stomach is growling.”

We got up and went to the buffet while 11 walked over to the bar.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Isabell just shook her head. “I’m telling you, you’ve messed everything up here, not just me.”

Oh yes, right, there was that strange confession just before our mouths were sealed. So much had happened that I hadn’t even thought about it yet. In fact, I had even suppressed it.

Without a word, I turned my attention to the food selection; I didn’t want to deal with it yet.

With full plates, we returned to the tables, where the champagne cooler was already waiting. But it wasn’t just for us; the others had been inspired by our example and had ordered some too. I was curious to see how the bill would be divided up.

Isabell poured herself and me a glass, but also passed some on to our immediate table neighbors. Shortly thereafter, everyone had a glass in their hand.

“To our first successful million-dollar shoot! And thanks to Rebecca for the champagne!” Isabell raised her glass. “And to the invincible Kumiho!”

“To Kumiho!” the others shouted, and the glasses clinked.

Oh, Rebecca had paid for that? I tasted the champagne. It was very good, as far as I could tell with my untrained taste buds.

Actually, I wasn’t really a sparkling wine kind of person. Since my crash some time ago, I had completely avoided alcohol. After my investigations had reached a dead end in Russia and hopelessness had spread within me, I tried to numb myself with alcohol. That ultimately led to my accident at the SM live show, where I was seriously injured. Since then, I had avoided alcohol completely, partly because my new “friends” urged me not to slip into addiction. They picked me up at my lowest point, just before I would have fallen into prostitution. Well, according to some people, pornography was also prostitution, but I saw it differently. I didn’t have to jump into bed with everyone and I could also say no. Besides, I knew in advance who would be having sex with me, and everyone had regular health checks.