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Disconnections
a series of stories by Eve Adorer
The Dusky Dame
Synopsis: - Another investigation for private eye Charlotte Moans
Earlier cases can be found here within ‘Disconnections’
‘The Little Sister’ as Part 16
‘The Flotsam Dame’ as Parts 24 and 25
‘Dead Dames Don’t Lick’ is published on this site in its own separate right
This new Charlotte Moans fantasy starts with PI Charlotte (“Charley”) Moans still feeling guilty for losing police lieutenant and lovely redhead, Adrienne Kowalski to the clutches of the evil Lola.....
The Dusky Dame
by Eve Adorer
I’d had my fill of broads. I’d just had me a major with Sam. Sam Splayed. Samantha Splayed my partner and partner: business and bed? It was all over where I’d put a vase. But that was just excuse for a moody. Yours truly had been doghouse for days.
I knew I was accuse. I’d gotten the flowers anniversary. Sam and me had known each other cop-college since before. Maybe Sam was feel the seven year scratch, or whatever you call it. The way she was react, anyone’d be think I’d done the flower trip trick for some other chick.
Well okay, so I had, and so they were kinda second-hand. But there was no way Sam could have known that. At least there didn’t oughta be. Maybe I was just paying the price for one of her skills. She sure as hell could read faces: my face anyways.
It was five days in before she’d finally shown me the ringed date proving our seventh year wasn’t till fourteen more days.
With Sam in a brood and the sun in shortest shadows season, 122V Faker Street was both too cold and too hot. That decided me I was best outta there. The call from Lipps had been a godsend. Even if, truth told, I was no-ways sure there’d be a doormat reading ‘welcome’ at the 14th precinct either.
As I strolled sidewalk trying to look as if I hadn’t just been banjaxed by my own blunder, I was wonder if pincer-movement wasn’t plan. Had Sam recruited our long-time mutual, police captain Kismet Lipps, to give me hell as well? Kismet still had reason to be honked with yours truly. After all, last mission I’d misplaced lieutenant Adrienne Kowalski without Lipps’ permission.
.....................
As I turned corner and began stride the steep stone steps to the 14th precinct station house’s wide-flung doors, I found things were looking up. I was looking up.
The nut-brown legs of the honey in front of me were toptip-toed in heelless tiptoe ballets. And as the flexing of her calf muscles dancing temptation tango when she climbed step, took my eyes off of her thighs, I was decide the world was not so bad after all.
She was taking steps to take the steps before me. So, first out, I took steps to slow and enjoy the show.
I was guess she was twenty-two. At least her waist matched that age. And if time was the stats vital, she was older below middle and the higher age twice above: least she cast shadows saying so.
In summer heat bare legs, she wore her white heelless ballets with a wide ankle strap that was pure attraction and total distraction. Her tiptoed-toes alone gave her ground-traction, and her ass waved like a rattlesnake slithering on scorched sand.
She was a chick of Asian-Indian origin: nature-brown topped out by sun’s nurture. In the street heat she held aloft a white parasol dreamily twirled in a dainty hand with long slender fingers, as she blessed the world with everything that’s girl.
She was mode, with a white light bright cool cotton dress clinging overall form out-shaping a hornet’s egg-timer. Even at the height of noon, a moonlit rainbow shimmered through the midnight of her bottom of butt length raven hair.
When I got close her on the steps, I instant flared nostril, while draped flowers in the spring rains of Babylon’s gardens sent scent to my assenting senses.
Top step, after pass by, eager to see her face, I made an ‘excuse-me’ cough to attract her attention. And she looked up with a visage that matched the matchless vision I’d followed till now. And when she lit smile, shying away deep brown wide eyes, my jaw tested dislocation.
Her shoes her dress and a white panama with a white ribbon round it, shading shadows on her heart-shaped heart-stopping face, was all she wore.
Inside the station house, a former colleague from my cop days, the curly-haired redheaded cutie Constable Pat McClit, gave me the ‘Hi’ till the honey too caught her eye, and we exchanged shared winks as we both watched the sugar-brown sweetmeat lower her parasol, and make along the same corridor as I intended for the office of Lipps with which it ended.
The angel was now giving off the subliminals, that while she loved to be admired by the girls, it wasn’t fair to stare. So I eased off from full bore, and only took in her hem rising to show bold strong thighs when she took seat at a desk and put her furled parasol aside.
.........................
After more mo-passing catch-up gossip with McClit: “Go straight in Charley! I’ll be there seconds!” Lipps called to my turned head, so, making her office knowing Lipps was not there, I forewent the knock customary for a caller even for door of a constant open captain’s cabin.
As I thresholded, my eyes instant spied the superb brown thighs inside, and I shot into Kismet’s office more enthused than a frosted kitten for a warm kitchen.
I knew my mouth was gaping again. But I’d no time say ‘hello’ and ask if the ethnic-Indian babe was date, afore Kismet wiggled in, all busy stiletto clack, behind me.
“Hi Charley. Good to see you again. This is Alenixa.... Alenixa Nevaeh?” Kismet breezed, as she swept to a filing cabinet to slot away some docs.
For a mo I was think Kismet’d given up on the confusion her office was usually in. But a quick glance round showed it still made a scrap-yard look like a military parade.
Alenixa was holding out a hand, and I instant stood and took the long slim fingers, while my mind was remind it was a shake in greet and meet for the miss, while my clit screamed ‘kiss!’
“Alenixa’s out from London, England.....Scotland Yard?” Kismet mumbled distractedly, as her fingers flicked an open drawer’s up-stood index tabs to find the slot for her file.
“Oh fuck it!” she then whispered to herself, and flung the papers atop the cabinet for a time when she could be assed with such piddling fiddling as filing.
“This here’s Charlotte Moans, Alenixa.....”, Kismet informed, as she sat her lovely ass behind the desk between herself Alenixa and me.
“Hi Charley”, the honey whispered with a delish of giggle, “I’ve heard all about you!” she smiled as she gave me laughter and love with her wide calf’s eyes.
Nobody’d said Alenixa could give me my ‘Charley’ handle, but nobody’d say it a no go neither; least of all yours truly.
“The cuts are beginning to bite Charley. The banks gotta get their billion-size annual bonuses, meanwhile we get to pay for them by losing some force. Fucking TARP. Alenixa’s stateside on exchange. That hides some of my strength from chop the whiles, since the switcheroo with London is funded from a sep pot. So I’m up on the game till they boat back over the puddle again....But you don’t wanna hear all this admin crap....”
As Kismet was giving me the latest lowdown on the New Edingow Police Department’s world, I was glad I’d gone PI and kissed the NEPD goodbye. Kismet looked like sleep had given best to sheep-counting weeks. I knew she ambished higher, time come. But if this was what strain did for her captain-wise, I was mind to remind her she was PI partner with Sam and me, any day she was say.
“Lola’s cancer’s eating London now? That’s bad and good. The bad is obvious. The good part is that Alenixa’s been sent over to follow up behind a plant Scotland Yard have sown in Lola’s garden.”
“While Lola’s girl, Bonito Clyde, is using prison-issue tampons, Lola’s gotten two new temporary temptations: Kowalski for one?”
“You mean Adrienne is okay?!”
“Oh yeh. She was sure struggling Charley. But Adrienne’s got herself back into Lola’s good books......via her bed of course. And she’s now with Alenixa’s sister, Belanina, who’s cloaking for Scotland Yard. Lola’s parading both honeys draped arm like they wanna melt into her. And you and Alenixa here have gotten an invite to dinner Saturday come”.
“Belanina has told Lola she has a twin sis in Alenixa, and Lola’s got her tongue licking floor she’s so longing meet. Hence the invite, which has a ‘bring a guest’ above the ‘RSVP’? And since you know Lola and New Edingow City better than Alenixa, Charley.....”
“Lola got off on the ponygirl doping charges that have got Bonito cooling her nipples on Alclitraz. But Belanina’s since got tapes proving Lola was full know. And with double-jeopardy gone history a retrial is cards on.....When a judge can be found Lola hasn’t got in her ass pocket.”
“Belanina needs an exit-Lola visa Charley, and Kowalski too. Lola ain’t gonna open fire escape for Kowalski even in a blaze, or newcomer Belanina come to that. So you’re the ‘copter for the big escape, so as Belanina can make court witness along with her tapes.”
“There’s a safe-house lined up and we’re ready to move in on Lola once we’ve sured ourselves her new girlfriends are out. City hall came up with the funding. The tapes’ll add up to a court case that’ll put Lola away; if not for a long enough forever. I know you’ll find a way Charley, and you owe the NEPD....Remember, you owe me for losing Kowalski.....”
“Do I got me a ‘yes’ Charley?”
I took one long look at Alenixa’s strong bare brown thighs, forgot I was not afford pro bono, and nodded casual to hide I was bowled over double back-flip at even the thought of having this cute candy clinging my arm dinner date.
.............................
The dinner wrap could only be a prelim. Alenixa was bed-bate to dangle front of Lola, who’d crave being the meat in sandwich ‘tween Belanina and Alenixa. So leaving Alenixa behind to weave herself in with Lola would be no prob. But getting me away from Lola’s remind that a door works both ways at the end of the day, was a way round that had to be found.
The invite was to a conventional tux and black tie do. I’d dust off my dark-blue pinstripe jacket and skirt combo and try and find a clean shirt to iron.
Getting Alenixa doll would be a cinch pinch. But I needed more. Best plan seemed something that would make me and Alenixa an item. So I got me Alenixa’s appro to play along, and the rings and things to sing the song. Alenixa was part of the mix that puts the new merry in 21st century England. She was English-Indian by birth, but from the Sessik-Caste distant tree: the Sessiks being a less known Hindu caste from eastern side the subcontinent.
At least Lipps would go along with expenses. She went along with plan too. But any bankroll of bank bonus scale she blew.
My cover with Lola before had been that I was IT brains with Ursa Bows Inc, Wall Street’s finest. Lipps was agree I not change that, but wasn’t going to give me largesse licence. Instead she was prompt I plead I was on a minus from a personal dabble in sub-primes if pressed to play the tables.
I was nervous that that would only wash to whisk me out of Lola’s door like I was plague on roller blades. But Kismet was insist I roulette with my own money if that was the stakes, or make excuse. And she pointed out I’d be with cute candy, and could use that as distraction traction.
Belanina was the problem remaining, but Alenixa had means of comm., so that circled the square and we were go for a hope of a ‘stay-behind’ from Lola when the dinner event was gone.
.............................
I was so look forward event, I was almost forget prime Sam’s pump.
Natch I told her Alenixa made a pig’s pet pug look dollars. But I suspect Sam was not believe, so I musta failed the sly smile test.
As double-cover I challenged Sam to go instead of me, and see for herself that Alenixa looked badder than the ugly duckling’s long dead grandma. But Sam was remind it was me had the intro with Lola, and we were decide she’d take up a divorce case, where some chick was complain about spanking. She was think her wife had found new bed-meat because she wasn’t slapping her ass no more.
I didn’t tell Sam it was a pro bono. I went along with her relief belief that at least our bank loan repayments would get a boost to their upkeep.
.............................
I stretched expenses. I was going to impress the princess using the NEPD’s imprest. So it was in a double-headed Pretty-Cab, hauled by two stunning redhead ponygirls, that I was clip-clopped into the close, where I was pick up Alenixa for eight and not late.
She was late of course. She was girl. A girl’s got right to keep wait.
As she scented around her hotel room, I kept eye on her: I kept both eyes on her! She was in a full-length hug gown that clung her body so intimate, that in all bar this and one more out of the fifty states; she’d have had to have gotten married to it. It caressed her so close it musta been bad news for the underwear industry. No line it outlined didn’t curve so smooth that a bra and nicks must have been given the nix kicks.
Her dress’ tactile crushed velvet in Prussian-blue refracted light in its creases when she moved around putting the fascinating finishing touches to her midnight-black hair, which she’d worked into a single plait she’d drawn over her left shoulder so it draped front of her like the serpent offering Eden’s know-fruit.
From the side slit in the skirt of her dress flashed a left leg that wore one of her translucent Prussian-blue nylons, and teased to please not least that she wore a poppy-red thrilly frilly garter to hold it high by making the lightest impression in her very impressive thigh.
If that leg wasn’t a dancer’s prancer then I knew no other description that could answer a fit for its fit shapeliness, especially emphasised by Alenixa being sky-highed in wedge platform sandals.
A quick flashing glance at her just visible pretty toes, proved she’d donned her dolly’s legs in gloved stockings. These ‘gloves’, pocketed her toes separate. Her big toes being free, her other toes being through the individual leather loops that held her feet from touching the ground in her sandals: the ground touch role being reserved for the wooden sandals’ soles.
The sandals, heavy lump-lead in core with a skin akin to cork for outer appearance, comprised triangles with her feet strapped on the hyperto-knees, or whatever it’s called, rising at sixty degrees from the floor and giving her three inches behind her toes on which to totter, on shoe soles that were also the shoes’ heels, before the ninety-degree angle and the vertical rise to where the sandals’ leather straps had her slender ankles tight tied. Her toes were off ground by inches. The sandals did her walking.
“Will I do?” Alenixa coaxed with surprising shyness from a girl who must have known she’d give perfection an inferiority complex.
“No” I instanted slyly, and she looked at me moment hurt-shock, and then made her pretty hands flutter butterfly over her nose as she fell apart with glorious golden giggles.
But even as Alenixa gave the giggle of girl its wonderful whirl, she subliminalled that I was agog at how her heavy tits were reverberate with her lovely laughter, and slowly pulled herself together, to give me two darkest browns reading my soul’s soul as she moved her sweet face and moist mouth my way, and shied her head to beg me kiss her.
“May I kiss you then Alenixa?” I asked like a sap.
“No!” she whispered, and danced herself away from me, laughter in her sparkling lanterns as she kept out of my way and made me know I would have to work a whole lot harder to earn such an honour after such a stupid start.
“It’s not as if we are really engaged”, Alenixa teased as she passed me the rings.
On my knees I could have been worshipping her. But in fact I was down there struggling to click the silver toe cuffs round her big toes. Alenixa herself worked the five conjoined solid-silver rings over her right hand’s slender fingers and thumb, and ditto the left, leaving me to close the wrist bands that held these in place via five silver chains over the backs of her hands, and then click closed the locking rings that fastened one thumb to the other, so she must hold the backs of her lovely hands on her beautiful butt.
“This is going to hurt sweetheart”, I muttered, as she bravely held her head high while I clipped closed the silver engagement ring for her nose. Its spiked ends bit into and through the septum between her nostrils.
As I put the heavy solid-silver chainmail maiden’s cap on her midnight tresses, she closed her eyes under the heavy weight of the dangling ball-ended links tapping on their upper eyelids – two before each eye - while I took its strap under her chin. These dangling swinging inter-knocking balls were an intentional threat to her pretty eyes when she moved, so she was wise to keep her top eyelids at all times demurely lowered.
The mouth mask came next. Its side chains drew over her own divine moist lips, their hinged moulded-silver counterparts. I drew each chain over Alenixa’s peach-soft cheeks and around behind her head, and fastened the clasp to hold the concave sculpted silver lips tightly over her own.
One chain ran from each side of the hinge in the silver lips. The upper lip had an elongated projection into the rear of Alenixa’s mouth: a projection studded with a multitude of down-pointing needle-sharp spikes, warning her that they were sharper than a girl’s tongue could ever be.
To hold the decorative lips in final place, via the holes in its silver, I drove two ruby jewel ended sharp pointed silver needles: one through her lower lip within its silver cover, and one through her upper lip through its silver cover. And then I topped and bottomed these off by screwing onto the needles’ threaded pointed ends, ruby jewel stops.
Alenixa’s lowered her eyes trying not to voice her pain. She could only talk now at the expense of having her tongue punished by the spikes that awaited its every lovely emotional wave.
The solid-silver chainmail neck-brace fitted perfectly around her swan-slim long slim sweet neck, which it was all I could do not to kiss before I drew it around to brace her queenly head in a firm forward-looking rigid hold. I took care with the multitude of leather straps that held the neck-brace in place, not to choke the angel.
I completed the adornment of her head with the inverted triangle shaped woven-wired-silver chainmail yashmak, over her nose mouth and with its down-pointed single ruby decorated apex, dangling just beyond her chin. It left a slit for her eyes between its top line and the dangling eye-tease-balls of the maiden’s cap. This gap I closed at the centre at the bridge of her nose with a hook that linked the yashmak to her chainmail cap at that point. She now peeked through elliptical gaps – the gaps her eye-tease-balls patrolled with their swinging stinging.
Alenixa’s upper eyelids remained half open. The weighty twin eye-tease-balls keeping her darkest-dark brown eyes submissively half closed. Alenixa lowered her eyes as an engaged girl of the Sessik-Caste from eastern India must before her future wife.
I gently reached up under the yashmak and attached the four-foot long silver chain to Alenixa’s nose ring – her engagement ring – the symbol of our pretend engagement – and she was ready.
“Please be gentle with me Charley”, Alenixa’s sweet mouth softly whisper-lisped as she gave me brave wide-open eyes, before lowering her eyelids once more to save her eyes themselves being beaten by the eye-tease-balls.
.............................
The progress from Alenixa’s hotel room was slow. She had not only to get used to it being her duty to at all times walk a minimum of three steps behind me when on her chain, but with her big toes being linked together by the silver toe cuffs, she had also to get used to wiggling along with the half-inch shuffle step which is all a Sessik-Caste bride-girl is allowed, soas her gait ain’t considered too alluringly lewd.
As we slowed across the hotel’s corridor to the elevator, even though it was intend NEPD expenses, I was sudden mind what leaving the Pretty-Cab on hold below must be clocking up dollar wise, and I heard a gasp of pain from Alenixa as I tried hurry.
“Sorry sweetheart”, I whispered.
“You shouldn’t be”, Alenixa’s warmed-honey enforced lisp coaxed from her silver lips and punished mouth, and I turned in surprise and instant saw what the Sessik-Caste dress code had done for her. In her crushed velvet gown Alenixa’s nipples were popped out like her tits had just shot bullets at my back. And she was blushing at this evidence of her natural feminine arousal, as if it was anything to be ashamed about.
.............................
When she was able to stop her mouth gaping, the girl driving the cab got the ramp out so that Alenixa could shuffle up it after me and put her pretty butt on its polished leather seat.
“Are you one lucky girl, or are you one lucky girl?” the cabess’ uninvited conversation began with me.
“I’m one lucky girl I guess”, I shot back polite but firm, “Say, we gotta be at the Imperious Hotel by 07.30. It’s 07.15 and two miles to go already. Do you got a whip to get the lead outta the asses of those leggies up front?”
“Don’t you worry none ma’am”, the cabess answered, as she flipped a wave in the white leather reins, down through the rings each side of the redhead ponygirls’ mouth bits: a pulse that travelled past their mouths and down the short reins tethered to the rings in the ponygirls’ nipples, so that the reins’ waves finally flickered through their tits, and the girls knew we, that is they, were to pull away.
She then brisked the reins again to pass a message to the ponygirls through their tits that their walk must become a trot. And the rhythmic pounding of brisk iron hooves, second only to the click of high heels as a clit please, sparked off the concrete of the road.
To avoid the converse I was not looking to have, I eyed up the ghost-white redheads with their hair drawn high at the back of their heads, through rings, to sky and then down like the elongated sparks from firecrackers. Their ponytails were now waving in the wind of our speed.
Their arms were behind their own backs held together by a single leather sleeve per girl tied light-tight with long laces, leaving their hands free. They were both making pretty fists in show of how determined they were to get their gorgeous legs going for us.
I took in that this Pretty-Cab was of the design where the girls hauled us along by individual slim stainless-steel shafts, with the girls stood upright and the shafts running six foot beyond the front of the cab, and ending between their thighs.
The shafts were then held at back of their butts by a strong chain dangling from rear of the bottom of their tight-laced white-leather waspie corsets, to solid rings welded top the shafts: a chain that held the shafts high in their crotches so that the coupling joint at which the shaft took a right angle upwards, kept the furthest ends of the shafts – their girl-bits – hard up their respective cunts.
“I see your a bit of a connasewer of ponygirl flesh then”, the cabess, who was as determined on conversation as she was on ogling Alenixa’s sensually exposed stockinged leg and gartered thigh, insisted as she saw my eye-line.
“You gotta mix discipline and contentment in equal measure? That’s my view. If’n you’re into the technical detail, I use the one-inch diameter knurled girl-bits. Not the iron ones. They rusty-up too much quickly soon as the girl gets a wet on. Ponygirls slaver a whole lot down there you know. Stainless-steel: ten-inches of knurled stainless: that keeps them purring and healthy.”
“Those there’s Nina and Mina. They’re first cousins? They cost me a fortune in sun-screen to keep them that natural redhead white. I got them catalogue. They came with their nipples ready ringed for to take the reins. They’d been trained to obey too, out there in Russia?”
“It was problem in my early days that. You know. What with no agreed international standard? I had a couple of French honeys before these two. But they’d been broken European way.”
“They was second-hand. I shoulda just bought this Pretty-Cab and let the ponies go market. But the complete kit seemed too good a bargain to miss. Their previous owner intended retire? I didn’t rip her off none. She got a good price. She’d made her dollar pile and was going to live coast.”
“I was young, just off the cab drivers’ course? Well, the Russians mostly agree with the good old USA, so these chicks were ready to go as soon as I got them out of the delivery crates. But those French honeys?! I tried all ways I knew and some I didn’t before, but they’d been learned-up European, and I just couldn’t get their tits to understand, and obey US standard messages”.
“No girlree! Once a girl’s been broken to pony and had her tits trained to obey reins a given way, they can’t be un-learned. No way, no matter what. You see, the girl’s tits get to remember what the reins tell her to do a certain way, so her mind no longer has to think none at all. So when she’s had her tits trained to reins one way, her tits can’t be retrained. By then it’s too late, because she’ll have had her spirit broke to make her pony, true pure girl that is, and consequent, she has to let her tits do the knowing and thinking, because it was her tits that did the learning, or she gets all skittish and confused, and becomes no use for pony no more. I’ve learned since it’s called ‘mammary memory’. I’ve read it’s become recognised problem among top veterinarians....”
I watched the cabess skilfully repeatedly flick the reins leading to the redheads’ right tits, and they obediently veered us right at the quickly upcoming junction. And we were advancing up Main and 69, when the cabess whisked the reins to signal through the reins all the way to both tits of both girls in unison, to be sure they’d trot us straight ahead again.
“You taught her who’s boss yet?” the cabess casualled.
“Who?” I asked, my mind distracted going over concern I was about to meet Lola again.
“Your fiancée......”
“.....There’s a catalogue in that pocket compartment on your right. You’re welcome take with you if you’re minded.”
“Even though I bought from them a year since gone, they keep pushing their sales crap in my mailbox”.
“I haven’t looked that one through yet. But it’s okay by me if you want to take it with you. I’ve already got all the whips I need.”
I turned to find Alenixa looking at me with her full-open brown eyes as if to say I should take the catalogue and buy the means to teach her how to be even more fully girl. Then she lowered her love lanterns, but continued to tell me I could teach her her place if I wished, by staring at me hard with her heavily stiff nipples.
.............................
The cabess’ call of “Whoa now honeys” as she pulled all four ponygirl tits up hard with the reins to tell them to stop, brought me back to the reality of what I was about to face.
As Alenixa to adore, her shy eyes looking constant floor, made so to do by the eye-tease-balls, shuffled dutifully in her half inch tiptoed steps behind me on the end of the chain linked to her nose-ring, I felt both proud and alone.
I was almost sorry Alenixa was dressed Sessik-Caste-bride-to-be, waiting the day all her silver raiment would be changed for same in gold. It made her a potent passport for a stay with her, and therefore with Lola, but it put her out of the game if trouble came. A girl with her hands thumb-cuffed behind her back ain’t much use when bush comes to glove, as the old saying goes.
There was no doubting we were right place. Right outside the Imperious was an easel with a big poster announcing a fund-raise for the gaoled Bonito Clyde. It gave direction to the February Suite on the fourteenth floor.
“Are you okay Charley”, Alenixa’s sweet voice, her tongue tortured to a lisp by the spikes in her lovely mouth, concerned to me.
“Sure kid: no probs”, I braved, knowing the angel expected me to be in charge.
In the elevator, I took Alenixa’s nose chain off her, kissed her where her left eye was shied. And she looked at me with nipples hard as diamonds once more.
“Charley you crafty old vixen! Good to see ya!” Lola greeted, her eyes only for Alenixa standing submissively behind me.
“Say: you got you one delish doll there Charley, yessirimento you do!”
“I got me fiancéed-up Lola. This sugar-babe is Alenixa? We gonna wedding traditional Sessik-Caste style over out India? Don’t you just love the engagement jewels?”
I sensed without looking where Alenixa stood dutifully three steps behind me, that she was glad her eye-tease-balls lowered her upper eyelids to shade her from the direct cruel stair of the gorgeous reverse-negress Lola: the albino negress Lola with her cruel pink eyes.
“She’s sure a honey-babe Charley! You’re one lucky girl! Me too, I got your sugar’s ident working secretary for me. English babes eh Charley! These days London’s got every shade of babe from babe to babe via babe. And they’re all so cute, talking the American language with that England accent like they do? You better believe it Charley.....”.
“It’s two thousand dollars a head: four for you with your gorgeous chick. It’s a fund-raise for my Bonito. We gotta get her out of Alclitras Charley. And that costs top lawyer, and top lawyer costs dollar dumpster loads. So don’t hesitate to generous-up above ticket Charley: you’ve got the dough I know, or have Ursa-Bows joined Lemon Sisters in the old collapserimento stakes eh?! eh?!” Lola teased as she brushed by.
“Oh, see my MC, Charley. He’ll show you your places!” Lola called as she busied with the next guests arriving.
I spotted ‘him’ immediately. The MC: the master of ceremonies? It was the gorgeous redhead Adrienne. Lieutenant Adrienne Kowalski. She was back in the role of ‘Hadrian’ once more.
Hadrian had her glorious red hair trimmed military short, slicked with mousse, and parted middle. She was in a black tailcoat with silk lapels, buttoned tight at her waif’s whiff of a midriff, with her cleavage and curves denying that this boy could ever be anything other than a girl.
She was no bra and her tits were having an away day, dancing for joy when she moved. The swallow-tailed tuxedo she filled, topped a micro-mini-skirt, buttoned down its front to where the proof she was definitely pure redhead, and as definitely a girl, could have both been crosschecked, but only one of the two, if she still kept it depilated reborn newborn smooth.
In her soft kid leather heelless ballets, Hadrian’s supremely white redhead’s complexioned legs, superbly strong and long, lissomed her tiptop pirouette-stood way our way.
She was still as knockout as I recalled. But when she came up to us, she made out no recall me, even when she got close enough for me to look into her sparkling greens, and audit her gorgeous freckles to be sure she’d misplaced none.
“Good evening ma’am. Good evening young lady. You must be Ms Moans and friend. Welcome both. Dinner will be served at eight-thirty. Places are marked at the table in the next room. If you’ll be so good as to take your chairs at least five minutes before we serve? Have you any particular dietary requirements?”
“Sure” I said, “The kid needs straw for her mountain-stream water.”
“We would be honoured to blendise fresh fruits for the little lady to drink straw...to go with the mountain-stream water.”
“That’ll be fine. Say, where’s a thirst find a quench round here?”
“May I pass your order on?” Adrienne as Hadrian polited.
“A large bourbon trickled over crushed-iced-French-girlpee?”, I requested.
“Certainly ma’am.”
I became aware of a disturbance. It was even more disturbing than watching Hadrian’s cleavage, mentalling that her tits seemed to be wanting to nod their own separate hellos. The disturbance was in the room, and the kind of disruption that can only be caused by a beautiful dame. Belanina had arrived.
Belanina had arrived and her gorgeous brown eyes were scanning the room to locate her twin sister, my Alenixa.
Belanina was temping as Lola’s girl. That was clear. No expense had been spared on Belanina’s evening gown. She was dressed Paris in what must have cost France.
Her jet black hair was tumbling torrent down her rear to below her bottom. It had been brushed to glow with a million stars on show as the glaring lights’ reflexions were refracted by its perfection.
She was upright on her supremely shapely legs in Persian-blue goat-skin heelless ballets, with real gold squared-off toe-ends on which she perched en-pointe with her calves compelling curves conspicuous in consequence.
The shoes apart, her legs were caressed by white seamed stockings the more opaque tops of which circumferenced strong thighs. Her translucent white waspie-corset caressed her slim waist without pressure, for this brown-complexioned English-Indian treasure was heedless needless of any artificial measure to ensure she was fully femininely curved.
The rest of Belanina’s dress was a confection of feathers: peacock feathers. Upward from the top of her waspie a six-peacock-plume array covered her heavenly heavy bosom display. Two feathers each side each breast took sides to hide her bare tits - one each in her cleavage and one each at their outside sides. A third larger plume apiece, with its peacock feather’s eye close inspecting spy on their perfection, hid her nipples’ shy brown-pink eyes.
Down rear from Belanina’s waspie, two huge peacock plumes trailed and failed bid to hide the firm coffee-brown half-moons of her darling side-dimpled derriere. And a third at front with another all-seeing Cyclops’ peeper, defied a glimpse of the angel nymph’s somehow guessed to be post-pre-puberty delicately depilated silken-smooth-lipped maiden’s slit.
Her raven hair was crowned with a diamond tiara from top centre of which there curved rear, another magnificent peacock plume.
But as Belanina graced the room all eyes pretended to be wise and advised not to contemplate the purpose of the garters Belanina wore around the darker shade of her shear nylon virgin white stockings’ thigh caressing tops. For upwards from the garters were peacock plumes en-mass, their length a clear choice so that they performed duty in covering the girlmost part of this gorgeous creature, while they must surely too have been chosen in design to constantly caress her intimately, for she clearly wore no panties and it must be en-prise for the upthrust feathers to brush its lips in tease and please with her every move and step.
As Belanina wiggled tippy-toe past me in her ballerina posed tiptop-of-tiptoe walk, the glow in her eyes, the fullness of her lips, and a brief glimpse of her distantly distended nips, told my practiced eye that her feather garb had had due regard to putting her mind and body on highest charge.
As shy as her sister though Belanina was, she loved all eyes being on her, and to admire her wonderful femininity was our honour.
“Oh my love!” Belanina cried with all her girly heart as she spied Alenixa and brushed her heady fragrance straight past me to kiss her equal beauty, Alenixa, on her yashmak in chaste sisterly greeting.
“Lola wants us to circulate together. You will won’t you darling? I’ve dined already. We can find you something later. I just adore that dress! You will come around with me won’t you Alenixa please? I’m so frightened on my own dressed like this”, Belanina’s sweet ever-wet lips pleaded.
My heart sank. I’d expected a Scotland Yard cop and some co-op. Instead I’d found that the cop had reverted to girl, and I was looking at a solo fight if Alenixa took the same flight. The effect on Alenixa of her caste’s engagement gear, showed how fem she was too. So it was a dollar to a dime her girlness would win through. But......
“I’m with Charley”, to my relief, I heard Alenixa lisp.
“But I’m so wanting you’d come around with me. Please darling.”
I now wondered if chance for note swap between English cop and English cop was Belanina’s intend. So I released Alenixa’s thumb-cuffs and gave her my permiss to go off with her twin sister miss.
.............................
A sweet chick wiggled toward yours truly with my drink on a tray. The same rectangular silver tray, strapped around her back like a bra, and held horizontal by another single strap anchored each outside-end of it, running around her neck, carried her bare tits on display. My French girlpee iced bourbon was in a glass ‘tween them.
These dolls in their black French maid’s micro-dresses, fishnet stockings, sin black suspenders, and six-inch stilettos, were hobble-chained, three-inch-of-links, at their ankles, to sure they were slow and inefficient, and had their slender wrists girlackled behind them too. They wore no panties so the room was peppered with the crack of hard slaps after they had curtsied and proffered a drink at last to lap, as their naughtiness was communicated by their customers to their lovely ass.
With no partner no more, I was a drift-in to find my place name, and take seat for the feast. Looking round I saw masks worn by some guests. Lola had power. She’d sown political seed. She had bouts of make believe her past was past and her bankroll not from bankrobs.
I was recognise the mayor and her mayoress. The masks worn were time waste. You were easy recognise who was behind them. But purpose was they signalled mouth-hush. And since they failed not to reveal who wore them, at least they were tell who you were to be hush about.
I chose the vegetarian courses, but was not enthuse about eat. Sure the food was the best of the best, but I was distract.
Belanina and my Alenixa were come back in and circulate. And now both gorgeous dolls had hair worked serpent snake, and both were plumed up feathers like only Belanina had been before, and both were in Sessik-Caste pure silver engagement gear. And that ‘tween them there was no-way recognise, was second thought to realise that Belanina’s adoption of the pre-wedding outfit, could mean she was really engage.
I was, for sure, hope this was only fancy dress chance taken. The thought Belanina had gone girl and taken Lola’s ring through her pretty nose was my mission’s total blow, if it was so.
My whole scheme was falling apart. I was recognise truth. I’d come into this with no proper plan. I’d gone in to try and get Belanina out so she could bless the witness box with her pretty feet. But if Belanina had gone native I was looking at defeat. My armour was already holed. My amour, Alenixa, had left my side and with her had gone my passport for a stay at the end of the day.
I was not relax. I ordered another bourbon on iced girlpee, and was realise a pretty chick next to me was talk had I been listen. She was the mayor’s wife and she was ask about Wall Street in a short tongued lisp that was so sweet. So I turned and chatted to honey-blonde hair and brown eyes and found I could spin yarn good as any actress to keep my disguise wise.
Side-of-eye I kept watch on Belanina and Alenixa. They tip-top-tiptoed around in leggy display sweetening the day of the guests they were taking turns to turn to and stand outstandingly behind their chairs. Soft lisps from soft lips shyly enquired of each guest if the guest had all they required.
The pain for the tongues of the twins was certain from the spiteful spikes that filled their mouths, but they displayed sweet obedience to the gathered crowd. Hands thumb-cuffed behind them, I was aware as I watched that both girls were high tensioned teased to please by the feathers that tickled and tormented their girlmost part, for they bent to display a shy of beautiful bosom when they leant forward to swing the eye-tease balls away from their glowing eyes to sincere their wonder to the guest they stood beside.
The more I watched, the more I was sure that they had both gone girl. A glimpse of their swollen nipples when they stood next the mayors chair, told me they’d been sured hot by the peacock plumes feathering their nests, as tiptoe in their ballets around the room they made trot with their sheer loveliness.
“Hi Charley”, they whisper lisped in complete unison when they reached my chair. And then, despite the pain for their tongues, fell into gorgeous giggles with realise they had spoken two as one instead of twice.
I was eye on their titties as they tinkled giggle gold, and I saw their nipples were bigger than bold and told what the feathers torment had tolled.
Both girls saw where I was sly, and sweet-shy-innocent bent lower to give me fuller eye.
Belanina took chance to cross thigh as she stood. I’d been notice Belanina was keep slowing in her walk almost to stop. The abundant peacock plumes pushing up from her high thigh garters and caressing her slit with her every step were clearly making her very juicy. Guess was she was wetter than an Amazon jungle weekend.
She was adore parading herself centre of all attention so near nude, all eyes on her legs her cleavage and the rest her gorgeous body, and all minds know what the peacock feathers thrusting up from the garters hid and were for. As she blessed the floor in her tiptop-tiptoe ballets, I’d have won bet dollar she was fight-off constant verge orgasm.
Alenixa too seemed delighted by her sister’s enticement and to find excitement in being the twin, as naughtily dressed and enjoying equally alluring leering exposure, and equal sin.
“Do you think naughty girls should be spanked Charley?” a sweet lisp whispered musically to my ear. And four gorgeous calf’s eyes above two silver yashmaks waited on my reply with a look Gemini, that said I could slap them around anytime I was minded.
But I was then sudden realise the question was from the mayor’s wife. And I was embarrass blush as I answered her and listened to the twins girly gaggle of golden giggles as they passed on to next guest.
A whiles later, spoon on glass and all attention called to Hadrian, whose sweet voice was announce ticket sale two thousand dollar again for special event. ‘No ticket no go’ meaning no stay. And a bevy of the French maids were behind her. And she was add, that these lovelies with their tits on display on their silver trays, were ticket sell. And a by-the-way that they were lactate, and, as we could see, equipped for two customers at a time, if’n we mind suck girl-milk straight from the tit.
I was look at the mayor’s wife and we were agree, without talking, that we’d ticket up.
Expenses were running beyond expectation here. But I was owe Kismet to find some way to make her day by coming up plan, despite it all going astray, so far and so far from where I’d been at out start.
Kismet had said a ‘no’ to gambling expenses. But sudden thought was, hey, this here upcoming was surely gambolling! And, at that, I pulled out my Amex and was remember my PIN, and I relaxed that the NEPD would pay for my sin.
“Girl-milk straight from my tit ma’am?” the blushing French maid dressed redhead doll curtsying before me enquired.
“There’s hygienic wet wipes for my nipples on my tray” she informed, in case I was too distracted to notice.
“I’m still plenty full ma’am”, she added with concern to satisfy, after I’d remarked that she seemed to have been particularly popular, while I eyed over the two enormously gorgeous reasons why: reasons that protruded well beyond the silver salver on which they were served up as platter matter in proffered offer.
I handed my Amex to her companion whose hands were free, did the deed deal and was handed a ticket in turn for whatever was to come.
Meanwhile the mayor’s wife, who was previous already pay, was wiping the milkmaid’s right nipple ready for me. She was already suckling eagerly on the girl’s left tit when I began to tongue her right to encourage it to seep.
As I sucked nipple and licked encouragement to keep her flow primed, the comforting warm sweet nectar slowly rolled over my tongue and mind. And I was awayed back to before I could recall, and love from the beating heart at my life’s new start, and eyes gazing down protective and gentle. And time in its brevity became endlessly long, and I longed this heaven to eternity’s eternity to prolong, till time had lost measure in the depth of my pleasure. And I was forget and forego all externalities, and my eyes closed and I awayed in dream that I was falling asleep in the comfort of being given pap in embracing arms above a long lost comforting lap.
“Oh please ma’am, and ma’am please, there are other customers waiting for my tits.... please, please ma’am and ma’am”, the sweet milkmaid distressfully reminded us both.
Her apology was one she had had to make to all who had taken tit with her, their longing as well as their thirst to slake. As she had circled in the cause of proffering tit she was know that she was dispensing more than milk of course, and it hurt the sweetheart’s sweet soul to have to remind customer, that despite her gentle heart, eager lips and the nurturing nirvana nature of her nipples, and their warm fluid flow, must forever part.
.............................
Cognac was circling table. Cigars and lighters had magically located themselves in front of all the girls there who wore tux and tie like me.
The truth of their arrival was, of course, the efficiency of the French maid outfitted serving girls: the ones with their hands free.
I was notice there were no seats made vacant by leavers. So ticket sales must have gone great guns for whatever Lola had lined up by way of extra fun.
Belanina and Alenixa had done their duty of letting all Lola’s guests have close look at their astonishing beauty.
Lola was stood awaiting chance speech of thanks.
The lucky albino with the bitter pink eyes, had the outstanding twins standing beside her, one each side. And it was easy tell which must be Belanina, because that honey, insofar as she could with her Sessik-Caste neck brace in place, was head on Lola’s shoulder to show her love was no mistake.
“Ladies.......!”
“Ladies........!!”
“If you please ladies....!”, Hadrian’s soft clear soprano called, in her role as master of ceremonies.
“Thank you ladies. Lola, our wonderful host, needs no introduction beyond that phrase. You have all gathered here for a cause. A cause our host has led tirelessly, despite all problems and every sacrifice. Ladies, with her speech of thanks, please listen to our marvellous host.....Lola.....”
“Thank you Hadrian, your kind words are so heart-warming. How grateful I am ladies and ladies, that I have in support of me such praiseworthy honest, and let’s not deny it, such a handsome young man as Hadrian!”
Amid a cacophony of wolf-whistles appreciate of the wonderfully feminine redheaded Adrienne as Hadrian, we all applauded, many by slapping the dining table, while Hadrian blushed and lowered her shy head.
“It will surprise no-one who knows me, to hear that I am all heart”, Lola began.
That was followed by silence. Nobody would dare by voice, cough, or any expression of face other than in a straight stare state, let alone escape of giggle or snort less alone talk, to dispute the truth of Lola’s intro.
An outta space translate would have been know that the silence said as much as any response out loud. But Lola was relaxedly lubricated by alcohol, and let it pass by, because she didn’t even read what it implied.
As Lola spoke though, Belanina risked the baubles banging on her eyes, by a look at Lola that said more than any sighs.
“You’ve generoused up so wonderfully tonight’ ladies and ladies, that we must be halfways to afford of the lawyers that my partner...I nearly said ‘partner in crime’.....”
There was another total silence, till we in the audience were realise we were supposed to be amused at Lola’s little joke, and dutifully laughed...at a length and volume that gave away we were striving a tad too hard to please.....
“.....that my partner, Bonito Clyde, will be sured of the legal support she needs to mount an appeal, so as to get her out of the hellhole that is Alclitraz!”
We all applauded lengthily.
“Meanwhiles, I have to gratitude up this little miss at my side......”
Wolf-whistles louder than even the gorgeous Hadrian had attracted, echoed off the walls as Belanina, it must surely be, bowed her body so shy, that she gave us generous eye of both her creamy-coffee tits all the way to her dark brown nips, and the whistles and table slapping began anew.
And while we were all appreciate of girl, I was notice that Lola was cigar light, Hadrian was at her side and behind Belanina, and two of the French maids with free hands were hanging around.
Lola held up a hand to save lovely Belanina’s tear-near blushes of pride that her wonder was recognise.
“But the little bitch thinks I want her in a wedding bed, and has been giving me the ‘no’ every day in every ways. She thinks we’re engaged! That’s what all the garb she’s in is about.
Lola puffed on her cigar while Belanina eyes wide let out the saddest cry.
“Bend the slut over the table Hadrian, and see how wet she is!”
‘Hadrian’, who was lovely Adrienne, did as she was ordered. Belanina was pushed forward onto the dining table, her soft firm breasts pressed onto its unyielding hardness, her aroused nipples seeking to scribe signature on love’s contract twice, sliding across its smooth polished teak, her arms still thumb-cuffed at her back, as Hadrian, who had forced her there, ran an enquiring finger along Belanina’s salivating crack.
Lola then looked at the fluid evidence drying on Hadrian’s forefinger.
“Well lookermerento the monsoon is early this year!” Lola gritted ‘tween her teeth, as we watched fascinated. And I was probably not alone in finding my panties wet.
Lola casually puffed up her cigar once more and nodded to Hadrian to grip Belanina’s nearest upper-arm tight, and reached down with her cigar alight, and we watched sweet Belanina’s eyes as while she crossed her legs at her knees, we listened to the hiss and her pitiful scream as the cigar kissed her innocent tight lips, but was denied by their guard praetorian’s protection of her pink, from the depths of depravity Lola intended Belanina to sink. But then her scream became sexual sigh, as she awaited more pain while Lola cigar patiently relit. And we watched Belanina her lovely long legs slow but sly-eagerly part, as if she knew what was coming was both end and start. And we were witness that true girl was in her deepest heart and its ultimate representative part. She was girl and her mind had surrendered to sunder and the plunder of her love so moistly expressed under and between her sentinel thighs. And Lola deliberately slowly delivered her lit cigar inside there where. And Belanina’s tongue-tearing scream was drowned by the sizzling sound as the hot cigar seared flesh and lit the flame of desire, while Belanina’s eyes grew wide with terror and surprise, and her supreme sensitivity told her she was ablaze, and that a tongue licked where no girl’s sweet lips had even yet kissed this wonderful miss. A tongue of flame had been lit in the rim of the ring. Her hymen was aglow with fire only less strong than the girl’s desire. And the cigar withdrawn to heighten its flame again, she was free to dampen the blaze within her. And her juices flowed to pour on and put out the flame. But her lips, their doors did not close as she was realise they must, despite her screams of agony, and the juices of her lust unless..... For unless her lips closed ranks to cut off the fuelling air, her hymen would be gone never to regain. She must dampen her desire and extinguish the flame. But her beautiful thighs stayed as parted as when she had been by the cigar plundered, though she was slowly burning from girl to woman, her god’s wedding ring a Catherine-wheel of crawl-circling fire. Belanina’s innocence at the doorway of her heaven, was burning away, even as her tongue was ripped by the spikes in her mouth and her screams and her shouts, the fire slowly seared to leaven her woman where once and never more again would or could she be girl. Her maidenhead was being taken in the pain of the flame that was consuming slowly its excruciating path around her hymen’s circumference. Her maidenhead was being consumed in a consummation of fiery agony. She was being raped by the fire and deprived of that she had saved for her holy wedding day. Her innocence and her girlhood were burning away, till at last the returned cigar could take the full path, pass past her holy ring no longer there or thus able to ape sphincter. And the slow hiss of its dousing in Belanina’s boiling juices, as she was cauterised as newly arrived woman, filled the pin-drop silent room. And in her pain she lifted one leg till its calf was formed in such balletic curve, it was clear to all that heaven’s will had been observed. And Belanina’s maiden’s blood trickled inside her other thigh, curled curve with her lovely calf bye and bye, and then dripped drop, to portray her betrayed innocence spread pool on the floor. And the released Belanina slumped knees down sliding in her girlhood’s blood, and lowered her head to worship at Lola’s feet, as woman in the highest state as the girl had in her stead, before she had been deflowered with the fire needed for the woman to know what a girl can only require, the real true single oneness of body mind and soul of the cunt’s role in female desire.
A silence....and then a burst of such loud whistles jeers cheers and applause as to have drowned in sound every earlier round to which we had had recourse, bounded off the walls floor and ceiling of the room.
Of course I was mind sweet Alenixa. And I was about to rise table from, to claim my pretend fiancée back, when the lady mayor’s wife bid me stop in my seat. And truth tell I was not too much persuade need.
Lola was nod to Hadrian, who wiggled her long legs over to where Alenixa was stare at her sister, still slump on the floor kicked aside by Lola. Alenixa had look in her eyes that her eye-tease-balls was hide when she demurely looked down.
Lola held up hand to quieten us down.
“That’s one of these bitches shown her place. But this one’s still got something to tell us....!”
I was instant fear Lola had sussed Alenixa and her twin were cop, and that that was why she’d slapped Belanina so hard. But Lola’s words had only referred to Alenixa so I swept my fears aside.
“You got something you want to tell us honey?” Lola menaced pushing her face with its cruel eyes right into Alenixa’s yashmak masked face, causing Alenixa to back away, even as Hadrian handed Lola a knife for Lola to slice off Alenixa’s garters in slow deliberate turn, and then the peacock plume down from Alenixa’s waist waspie that acted as the front of her feather plumed dress.
And then Lola threw the knife aside, and went behind Alenixa, grabbed one of her slim brown pretty arms, and pushed her forward, while we all astonished gasped; and then silence, before we all began to laugh and shout and stomp and thump the dining table, and holler and compete to find the crudest cruellest call to make Alenixa’s shame complete, as Lola had hold of the arms of the gorgeous English cop and was parading her around to show the world that Alenixa, lovely Benicia’s otherwise identical twin, had got a cock!
“Yesirimento Charley, you’re one lucky girl to have gotten engaged to such a gorgeous chick, a girl with such a beautiful dick”, and Lola gave Alenixa’s cock a hard flick with her free hand, and then slapped it again side to side, and made the poor girl walk among us to make it a game. And Alenixa, already aroused by the treatment of her sister, her passion momentarily doused by her being so cruelly exposed, responded to the slapping, and her cock rapidly rose till it stood with its head throbbing fully tall as her navel’s height. The laughter and humiliation continued its cruelty. The guests took turns to slap Alenixa’s cock like it was a gymnasium punch-ball. Each with a partner, like the mayor and her wife, took sport in urging each other on to give it the hardest yet swipe. And I could see from Alenixa’s walk as she was forced to circulate us all, with Hadrian holding her to stop any reluctance, said that Alenixa was enjoying this all, as the sound of her cock being slapped and the cheer that followed, echoed off the walls. When it came to my turn I didn’t hold back, I gave Alenixa’s dick the hardest cruel swack, and watched as it took the punch and bounced straight back. So I smacked it once more the other way and watched it sway and spring back upright right away. Then I slapped it again with all my might, before Alenixa was dragged away for it to be the next girl’s lot to slap poor sweet Alenixa‘s distended extended cock, and I must wait another turn when Alenixa had been forced around the room and returned, or so I was hope. But when Alenixa had done the one round, and had had her cock slapped by us all around, and it still stood stiff and tall, Lola had Alenixa stand before us all, and let her bruises and their pain register clearly, before, as we all chanted, she was brought round for more cock slapping again. But Lola had other plan. She dragged Alenixa’s deflowered sister onto the floor before Alenixa, and we watched as Hadrian’s pretty hand fisted the root of Alenixa’s cock and jerked her foreskin savagely hard, and faster, and faster, and harder still, with Hadrian in the role of Alenixa’s love-boat’s coxswain, till Alenixa screamed with the pain, but still bucked and doubled-up as she fought but could not stop orgasm’s gain, and jerked with the spurts of her white-hot sperm over her twin sister dame.
.............................
All I recall of next was recognising a stun grenade and covering my ears and opening my mouth to balance air pressure when it blew.
The doors flew open and a dozen fit shapely dames with their free-flowing tits filling coal-black leotards, in leg-caressing six-inch-heeled patent-leather knee boots, their hair ranging brunette to blonde and back via redhead and black, drawn up in ponytails under their black reversed baseball caps, and their pretty faces uniformly serious to show that, sexy as hell though they might be, they would take no crap, burst in with their pistols drawn from their thigh-tied side-holsters, and ordered everyone to “Freeze!”
Even if it was not read said in big bold white on the back of their leotards and also just decipherable front, despite distortion from their gorgeous tits: ‘S.W.E.E.T.’ - as an ex cop, I was obvious that this was the SWEET squad: the Special Women’s Expedited Enforcement Team, a select bunch of the bravest honeys, trained up by the Special Girl Service commando of the US Marines: a roving detachment of the NEPD’s very finest.
.............................
I got debrief a week later from Kismet Lipps herself. Lola and Adrienne had made escape. Holding Lola was a no go anyway. She’d committed no misdemeanour let alone a crime that could be proved. The tapes Belanina had wheedled to win, would still be with Lola, and no doubt discovered and destroyed. There’d been a microphone and camera in a look-alike for a ruby dangling down at Alenixa’s chin, below bottom her Sessik-Caste silver engaged-girl’s yashmak.
With Alenixa and Belanina being English dames, New Edingow’s state governor had been concern international incident, so she had released some dollar to have the SWEET squad on standby while I gave infiltration another try.
Kismet was conclude I’d done my best, but it looked like lieutenant Adrienne Kowalski’s police pension payments would be cease. It didn’t seem like she was a prodigal daughter probable no more.
And then we shook hands, Kismet and me, with Kismet’s parting remark that there was no hurry get my expenses claim in.
.............................
A full month down line, I was two-finger tapping PC key, when Sam put hand my shoulder from behind and was say: “I think your ugly pug’s dead grandma has come to see ya”, with a grin and a follow-up giggle that said she knew I’d been lie when I used that describe, and was all forgive as Sam always was.
I still wasn’t going to be admit. So I made casual, and took time nexting neighbour room. And what I saw made me wish I’d hurried. My English angel was looking total dish. My eyes spied she was sky-rocket-high in heelless white soft leather ballets in which she stood so casual while I ogled the white seamed stockings her lovely legs fulfilled, right up to half-thigh, where they were held high and grasped by the silver clasps of the frilly lace decorate of her white suspender’s suspenders. Two achingly smooth beautiful acres of her bare brown thighs were slowly crossed by my hungry eyes, till the hem of her charcoal-grey miniskirt worn low on her slender hips. Her bare midriff with her navel giving me the cutest smile from the middle of a belly as flat as she was fit, then the knot in which she had tied the tails of her white shirt at bottom her ribcage. Her shirt was undone bar for one button in the summer heat, and filled to bursting all bar, by wonderful breasts unconstrained and never trained by any bra. Her hair was straight black curtain, half over left shoulder down to beyond her butt, and half hiding right breast down to her stocking top at front, and from its being endlessly brushed with the finest finesse, the stars and moon both shimmered through its deep-space black. Her two darling brown eyes glowed with love that her sweet mouth smiled to confirm.
“We’re off back to England, Charley....We....I.... I couldn’t go without saying goodbye and a thank you......”, her soft voice whispered, as she extended the prettiest of long slim fingered slender tender hands for me to shake.
But I was see that her mouth wanted give even more sincere thanks. And she sighed no protest as I seized her waist and took her surprise, pulling her falling forward off her tiptop-tiptoed feet, bent tumbled helplessly prey into my longing arms, as the scent of her hair set my fires aflame, and her face found mine, and her dark brown love lights closed to express her desire’s need, and my lips closed on hers, but found them virginally tight purse poesy posed, till I explored with my eager tongue-tip and heard her hum-moan assent that I should take her mouth, and I slid her passionate lips apart, and took my tongue to the deepest depths of her, and she clung close with her wet mouth in infinite multiplicity of answer, and the inside of her beautiful stocking caressed left thigh slid over mine to show that she was open and eager and all her body was en prize. And I felt the silken smooth soft muscular firmness of the bare hot flesh of the outside of the thigh with which she had signalled her surrender, and lowered it gently down to signify my significant intent, as she redoubled the passion of her kiss and held my head in both her lovely hands, her long loving fingers interwoven with my hair. And I took my longing by hand to the inside flesh of her stood thigh, and she slowly crossed her legs and stopped my pry, before she eased back, her eyes dazed and glazed by the supreme sincerity of a girl’s love, while she straightened her hem and a stocking top, and then embraced my head with her hands again while holding her legs soldierly closed together in their tip-of-tiptoes shapeliest stance, as her sweet mouth whispered in my ear: “You adorable brave honey!” as words sincere she knew I longed to hear.
Then she drew back and held my hands by the finger tips, and began to giggle and please with a tease and her lips a sultry sulky gently laughing petulant pout: “I hope you weren’t disappointed just now Charley”.....then she gave me her full lovely laughing dark browns, and held my hands tighter with a brief squeeze to show that her love was still full bore girl: “I hope you were disappointed just now Charley not......my sister is the one with a cock!”
And my sixth sense turned me to see a vision in triangle wedge platform shoes with her big toes chained together by a half-inch-step-hobble, virgin white stockings caressing the contours of supremely shapely legs, wearing a dress that was clearly Paris and must have cost France: a concoction of peacock’s plumes strategically placed, those sweeping up from the garters around her thighs not least. Her hands were submissively behind her back, and a guess they were thumb-cuffed would not be in lack. She wore a gold-wire-weave yashmak from which a diamond dangled from its down-pointed end. Her raven black hair was plaited seductive snake, her long swan neck was in a woven-gold-wire embrace. Her head was crowned with a woven wire gold cap from which dangling baubles that could swing into her glorious brown eyes, making wise the sweet submissive downcast of their upper lids.
My eyes could not help but admire Belanina’s legs as she stepped softly, blessing the floor of my outer office with her balletic grace, till she took up the four-foot long gold-wire-weave chain that I just knew led to a gold ring through the peacock plumed angel’s nose above her gold metal false lips, and the down-facing spikes of gold above her sweet tongue.
Taking her sisters lead chain in gentle hands, Belanina turned to me once more, performing a leggy pirouette to present her smile again.
“You see Charley, when Lola raped me from girl to woman, I came. The loss of virginity, let alone a cum, is condemnation for a Sessik-Caste girl such as I. I can never now marry a Sessik husband-girl and be her bride; her family would forbid it; so I had to decide. And then my wonderful sister, sweet Alenixa, kissed me and agreed she will be at my side all my life.....or rather the three paces behind throughout, that is the proper place for a Sessik-Caste wife.....For her loss at Lola’s hand, or rather that of Lola’s handmaiden, Alenixa has been forgiven by me for spurting her sperm, just the same as she has forgiven my burning rape. And Alenixa will now serve always and only my needs, and, as in Sessik law it is bidden, will hence forward and forever a cum be forbidden.....”
“Goodbye Charlie, you dear darling!”, Belanina whispered before her shining wet lips blew me a kiss, and as she led her lovely twin sister into the future’s mists.....