The Couriers

by Jurgen von Stuka

  Cat turned, as if to temporarily dismiss her charge, then strode to the nearby wall and surveyed the display of tools and toys available to her.

  Freed from the floor ring attachment, Emily crawled away hastily, as quickly as the nipple to knee couplings allowed, hoping that this new task would keep some distance between her and Cat with her many flails and whips always at the ready.

  Standing chained and gagged in one corner, Sydney Price watched the training demonstration. She stood on her aching toes because the blunted metal spikes under her heels on each stiletto shoe she wore presented a painful discouragement to lowering her weight. Initially, when she saw and felt these tack-like projections, she feared that they would actually pierce her heels and would, if she put her full weight on them, drive the spike ends right into her ankle bone. She slowly discovered that while this was probably unlikely, the little stubs could cause considerable discomfort without breaking the calloused heel skin.

  So Syd, now several weeks into her training since she’d been taken at the plush hotel in Frankfurt, stood on tip toes, daring not to relax, the grossly oversized metal dick that Brillcart himself had driven up into her cunt the night before still in residence, held there by the chain belt and crotch-splitting chastity chain that bisected her ass and cunt. She watched Emily perform with little skill the room-circling routine Cat demanded. Syd had been there herself enough times to know that the sadistic efforts of Cat and her pals would eventually result in the trainee being obedient and submissive in every possible way, if only to avoid the continuous beatings and abuse. Actually, Syd had been in this same condition earlier with the added incentive of having the fat leather handle of an eight-inch bull whip implanted in her ass, held there by the crotch chain that also retained the steel dildo in her cunt. She had not yet acquired the heavy steel nipple rings sported by Emily, but Syd had no doubt that sooner or later, the same jewelry would be placed on her whipped tits.

  This gets weirder and weirder, Sydney thought. We get tortured and beaten, but then we are well cared for, carefully cultured like rare plants and then tortured again. I wonder if all of the women here came voluntarily like I did. Some seem to be especially unhappy with their situation.

  “Keep it up, Slave. No one gave you permission to stop,” Cat taunted, bringing the hard end of a new crop down firmly on Emily’s already bright red buttocks.

  Emily’s natural reaction to the whip was to attempt to rise, but the nipple to knee connection quickly served as a training prevention for that movement. A few intuitive upward jerks when the whip first fell convinced her that if she wanted to have her breasts and nipples remain intact, she would have to remain in the suplicatory pose, crawling along with her nose to the ground and each movement of her legs tugging at her ringed tits. She already knew that this treatment was intended to teach her not move from her rigid kneeling posture. Nevertheless, she remained in that position for the remainder of the afternoon and then, after the N&K connections were removed and her tender ringed nipples simply chained closely with a single, light chain, she was hung by her wrists in the alcove where she remained, monitored every now and then by and for Emile Brillcart’s entertainment. She still pondered why this was all happening and she had no clue as to why the cute little blond with the large steel ring through her cunt lips had been quietly hung up next to her. She also had no way of knowing that this tender little morsel, who seemed to be actually enjoying her plight, was Dede, Bibi Wolfe Lynx’s occasional bedroom toy. That information would have made no impression on Emily anyway. She had never heard of Bibi and the entire concept of a young woman being both bisexual and submissive had somehow evaded Emily’s learning experience thus far. This was about to change.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Plan A

  “I think there has to be a better, more effective approach.”

  Bibi and Jean Groff began to implement their plan. It was really quite simple: both women colored and changed their hair, switched to makeup that was more in character with a conservative, professional bank messenger and begged and borrowed a small wardrobe that was more in keeping with the image the bank executives had specified. They began day and nighttime deliveries, working with an experienced courier and learned the nuances of the job. As usual, Jean Groff was a faster study and picked up many of the details quickly while Bibi questioned some of the elements and pressed the bankers for reasons why they should do or not do things. It took two weeks before they were authorized to make solo deliveries, but it took longer to actually assign them to bank and agencies, most of which were reluctant to take on these inexperienced women and entrust them with their valuables.

  One thing that continued to trouble them both was that they still had almost zero understanding of how the thieves operated. No one as yet knew how they picked their targets and, more importantly how they managed to get away so quickly and efficiently.

  Keeping security tight was harder than expected because the banks naturally wanted key personnel to know what was going on. Thus, even though both women performed flawlessly for eight difference agencies and banks in six different cities, nothing unusual happened...to them.

  In Berlin, things went differently. A diamond merchant sent a triple team of highly skilled and experienced couriers to make a pick up of a major shipment at the airport and the trio vanished somewhere between the Tegel Airport exit and the first ramp on the autobahn that would have taken them into the city with two unmarked escort cars. Their Opel sedan was later found seven kilometers west and the three couriers were neatly bundled and bound in the boot and the rear seat, unharmed.

  “What did these people look like?” Bibi asked the team leader a few hours later in the Berlin police headquarters while the other two were similarly interrogated by Groff and an other experienced detective sergeant in different rooms.

  “Black. Totally black,” Dieter Walters, the deeply embarrassed leader of the team said slowly. “That’s all I saw. I was in the back seat with the two cases, one cuffed to each arm. We pulled onto the ramp and then the windscreen went black. We weren’t going that fast, and Martin, the driver steered to the side, the shoulder of the road, put on the flashers and stopped. They came in both rear doors, firing the locks free with some sort of explosive charge. They put black hoods over our heads, told us not to move and we wouldn’t be hurt.”

  “Did they speak to you?” Bibi asked.

  “Yes. No. Well, it sounded metallic. A recording maybe. It just said ‘do not move and you will not be harmed.’”

  “What else?” Bibi asked.

  “They said that the radio and alarms were disabled, so not to bother trying to get help.”

  “Anything else?”

  “The voice, it sounded like a simulated voice, not a real recording. It said that our escorts had been disabled, so not to try and contact them either. Was that true?”

  “I don’t know yet,” said Bibi. “We think that they were distracted and had to get out of their cars. It looks like some sort of very complicated EM pulse device killed their ignitions, but we are still checking the vehicles.”

  The other couriers had essentially the same stories, but over three point seven million Euros in gem stones were gone and the trail was dead cold.

  At a meeting the next day, the hard decision was made. Banks and agencies throughout Europe ceased all transfers by courier. This action upset the financial system considerably and the policy was reversed in less than a week.

  “What do we do now?” an angry Lisa Strom told the meeting.

  The room was silent. Finally, it was Groff who spoke up.

  “I think we have missed the point here,” Jean said slowly, pointing to the Power Point slide on the backlit display screen. “We have been trying to nail these people on their terms, more or less,” she said. “I think there has to be a better, more effective approach.”

  “Your suggestion?” Strom retorted.

  “Let me and Bibi work on this for a few days. We’ll have a new pl
an for you by the weekend.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A Fine Team

  “Do not move or the knife will cut your kidney out. Stay here and be quiet.”

  It was inevitable that Bridget and Emily would eventually become another of The System’s Courier Theft teams. They had all the necessary requisites for planning and carrying out such hit and run tactics and both physically and mentally, they were a good combination. Electronic implants in both young women assured that they would do as they were ordered to. There had been a bit of a struggle when their usual rectal and vaginal probes were removed and new, larger, serrated plugs installed with tiny wire antennae fed up their buttock cleft and frontal slit, but both women were already well enough trained to know that such physical inconveniences were of little consequence compared to what they had endured and been threatened with when they failed to instantly obey any commands. Now, standing next to each other before dispatch in the black skin suits, hoods and boots before a mission, they looked clam and nearly identical.

  Their target was a messenger/courier who three times a week went from one bank in Vienna to a government office, bearing a secret payroll for a group of agents operating in Austria and Germany. The courier left the bank at 09:15, stepped out of the bank’s gilded front doors and turned left, crossed to the median island in the Karntner Ring and boarded a tram that would take him to the government offices which were housed on the top floor of the old Grand Hotel, an elegant Vienna landmark known for its elaborate décor and excellent cuisine.

  As he sat down in a double seat on the tram and gathered his briefcase and personal purse about him, an attractive young woman with a large pair of dark glasses, a wool watch cap and a scarf pulled up over her nose, sat down next to him, quietly inserted a long, double edged dagger through the man’s overcoat and pricked his right side lightly, but enough for him to start and try to look at the woman who was pressed close to him, her covered face seemingly buried in his collar.

  “Wha...?” the man mumbled, discovering that his arms were now pinned to his sides by a wide fabric belt and his case was being quietly removed from his lap. In front of his amazed eyes he saw and read a short message written in careful, cursive script: “Do not move or the knife will cut your kidney out. Stay here and be quiet.”

  The courier froze and felt the tip of the knife press a bit deeper into his ribcage. The belt around his pinned arms tightened and he realized that someone behind him had slipped the belt around him and anchored him to the seat. Like every courier in Europe, he knew about the robberies and tried to relax; knowing also that no courier had ever been seriously harmed by these thieves. The tram came to a stop and people got off. The woman next to the courier was gone, taking the note and knife with her. The one behind him left the tram and left the belt, still fastened tightly around the man’s waist. He waited until the tram started up again and then worked to free himself while the people standing and stilling around him thought it odd that this man seemed belted to the seat.

  Bridget and Emily took different routes away from the tram stop, the GPS transmitters inside both well-packed lower orifices of each woman told The System’s control elements where they were, so there was no opportunity to flee. They met later at their prearranged rally point, dressed as any mid day shoppers might be and carrying several shopping bags from top stores on the Ringstrasse and along Vienna’s popular pedestrian way.

  By the time the police and security teams arrived, the tram’s passengers had changed several times and there was no evidence except the woven fabric belt that the courier had removed from around his waist.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Plan B

  “An unexpected blond present for the big guy.”

  It was three months since she’d been abducted at the Grand Hotel in Frankfurt and Sydney Price had learned a lot. With careful, painful and intense training, she learned how to take down a man twice her weight, subdue him without leaving more than a small bruise and how, if need be, to render him unconscious. Syd had also learned to pick locks, gain entry and exit from buildings, disconnect or redirect alarm systems and how to use not only common burglar tools, but also the nuances of some state-of-the-art electronics gear that would make her assigned robberies easier and safer. Syd worked with her experienced assigned partner, Nina Reese, a Brit, who was a street robbery expert. She too had been the victim of an abduction in a small B&B on the autobahn between Munich and Stuttgart a year before. Nina knew her work and was slowly building an excellent retirement nest egg that would, if things continued to progress as they had, allow her to retire in Switzerland, Monte Carlo or anywhere else she selected.

  This duo was on a typical assignment on a freezing winter afternoon in Munich. They had rehearsed the plan twice the week before and found no reason not to proceed, despite the harsh winter weather and the promise of more snow that afternoon. What they didn’t know was that the pair of jewelry couriers they planned to intercept on the street outside the Konigshof Hotel in broad daylight was not an ordinary courier team. Bibi Lynx and her partner, Jean Groff were substituting for the assigned couriers.

  At 14:30, the courier team exited the rear security door of the jewelers, stepping into the alley and turned right, heading for a central bank where the case they carried would be placed in a vault. The case was an ordinary-looking wheeled piece of high end metal luggage with hidden, high strength locks and hinges. Jean Groff, the shorter of the two couriers, pulled the cart while Bibi stayed a few feet back, protecting the cart and her team mate. As was normal procedure, neither woman was armed. This was not a normal security run because the policy was for such high end goods as these to be transported by an armored vehicle. But today there was an immediate need for the short distance transfer and both the jeweler and the receiving bank had carefully arranged for the exchange without the additional exposure of an armored van stopping in front of the store and the bank. As they rounded the corner and turned right on Schutzenstr, the couriers were blocked by a tall woman in a dark coat and wide-brimmed hat. She wore large sun glasses and carried what looked like a walking cane which she used to block the couriers. Sydney Price, the second woman, was dressed all in black with a heavy knit sweater with a hood that covered her head and most of her face, flat heeled boots and gloves. She too wore large, heavy sunglasses. Looking like two normal pedestrians stepping in from the curb, the pair closed in on the couriers, pressing them between them and moving sideways into an open doorway of a building that had a pastry small shop on the ground floor and apartments above. The first woman’s cane came down hard on Groff’s arm, forcing her to release her grip on the luggage cart. Groff grabbed the woman’s free arm and twisted.

  Bibi stepped back quickly, swinging her left leg and driving the steel-reinforced heel of her heavy Haix firefighter’s boot into Price’s shin and bringing the same boot up sharply into the nose of the tall woman who was bent forward, trying to disengage herself from Groff’s iron grip. There were twin audible snapping sounds, one from Sydney and one from the cane-wielding woman. Although she had been trained to make no sound, even if she was in pain, Sydney Price screamed, backing away, as her injured leg crumbled under her. The first attacker doubled over, her nose spurting blood. Blindly, she seized the luggage cart and swung her cane again at Bibi while Groff, recovering from the blow on her arm, ducked and lunged forward again, grabbing the retreating woman around the waist and taking her down to the tiled floor of the hallway. Her head bounced off the hard tiled floor, making a sound like a bowling ball hitting the alley floor. The cane lady was out cold and bleeding profusely from the nose and mouth. All four were now down in the cramped area inside the doorway of the shop and the clerks inside were already on the telephone calling police.

  “You two stay where you are and we won’t hurt you any more,” Bibi said to the two women in black, both of whom were completely out of it and dazed by the unexpected counterattack. “But try and flee and we’ll bring you down harder.”
<
br />   “Don’t hurt me,” Sydney cried, whimpering and trying to find a position where her broken shin wouldn’t hurt as much.

  The woman in the long coat was still only semi-conscious, but Groff moved until she was sitting astride the larger woman, holding the cane in both hands, under the attacker’s throat.

  The police arrived minutes later and called an ambulance for both attackers. Once the cops had their information, Lynx and Groff left and returned to the jewelry store with their luggage case.

  Neither Price nor her accomplice, who had false ID documents indicating that she was Dana Murgio, provided any useful information to police interrogators while they were treated in the hospital. In less than twenty-four hours, both women were released after their attorney, a top lawyer in Munich, posted a cash bond of 150,000 Euros each.

  At the hearing a week later, the defendants pled that the entire encounter was accidental and that Groff and Lynx had initiated the struggle after running into these two innocent young women who were minding their own business, walking down the street, headed for Karlsplatz. The women’s attorney contended that there was no evidence whatsoever that indicated any intent to rob the couriers and that it was all an unfortunate mistake. Further, he initiated a countersuit against Bibi and Jean, claiming assault, citing the injuries both attacking women sustained, including a broken shin bone and head injuries.

  “Looks like they won that round,” Lisa Strom, Bibi’s employer, said at yet another meeting in the central bank’s board room. “What do you plan as an encore?”

  “I’m afraid we jumped the gun,” Bibi said. “We should have waited until they took off. At least then we’d have them for robbery.”

  “Agreed,” said Strom irritably. “I’m glad you didn’t have a gun or you probably would have shot them. As it is, the bank will probably be sued for damages and you may yet be charged with assault, if nothing else.”