Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Dinner Party Mystery
A Girl Friday, Risk Versus Reward crossover story.
Chapter 5: The Interrogation
“Alright, you broads better listen up and listen good.” That got their attention. “I wanna know which one of you attacked this pie, see? I’m gonna ask each one of you, real nice like. You’d best be spilling the beans about who it was. Otherwise, I’m gonna crack some skulls and take you downtown to sweat it out under the hot lights. And I guarantee you don’t want—”
Juliet was anxiously tapping my elbow. “Miss Charlotte?”
“Begging your pardon, Miss Charlotte.” Juliet looked at me a little sideways, pushed aside her hair, and scratched at the back of her neck. “But, if you’re Hercule Poirot… you know, because you have the Poirot mustache and the three-piece suit. If you’re Poirot, well, shouldn’t you be all analytical and whatnot? I mean, the man couldn’t even eat breakfast without checking the symmetry of his hard-boiled eggs.”
“That’s what I am, toots. Hard-boiled.”
“But, Miss Charlotte.” Juliet scratched some more and nibbled her lip before continuing. “Miss Charlotte, I’m supposed to be the hard-boiled detective. Mike Hammer. Haven’t you read the books? Mickey Spillane, Miss Charlotte.”
“Listen, doll, don’t interrupt me. I’m trying to solve a crime here, see.” I gestured to the perforated pie sitting on the dining room table, bleeding cherry filling from its multiple stab wounds. “Somebody’s had their fingers in Desi’s pie, sweetheart. And I’m going to figure out who it was, even if it takes all night. Capisce?”
Juliet gave me a look with a kind of scrunching of her nose and squinting of her eyes that said maybe she didn’t capisce. But, after a moment, she shrugged and wandered off to leave me to my own devices.
I surveyed the room. Desi, Karin, Miss Chowdhury, and her three very lovely and very naked kitchen helpers were all looking at me expectantly.
“Here’s how it’s going to work, gals. I’m going to interview each one of you, one at a time.” I felt around in my pocket until my fingers connected with the leather strap Karin had pressed into my hand as we greeted each other at the door. I felt a sly smile crossing my lips. “One of you is going to crack. You’re going to crack and tell me why it was that you had your fingers in Desi’s pie.”
I got me a few worried looks—worried and a little confused. Then Karin stepped forward, extending the index finger of her right hand.
“You can skip me,” she said, stirring the air with her finger and grinning. “I’ll admit it. I had my finger in Desi’s pie.” She stuck her outstretched finger into a cherry-red hole in the center of the top-crust.
“But just one,” she said. “I didn’t do all of this.” Karin waved her hand over the pie to illustrate. She then popped her cherry coated finger in her mouth and began to suck.
At that moment, Juliet came sauntering back into the room. She was carrying measuring calipers in her right hand. I didn’t even know we had such a thing in the house.
I turned my attention back to Karin.
“Thank you for your honesty, ma’am,” I said, putting on a smile. “But, as anyone can see, that there were seven fingers in Desi’s pie tonight. That still leaves six sticky fingers unaccounted for.”
Two of Miss Chowdhury’s assistants were finding this investigation to be rather humorous and tried, but failed, to suppress their giggles.
“You dolls think this is funny?” I said. “You, Lenore, come here.”
“Yes, Miss Charlotte.” Lenore made a tight fist with her right hand and stuck it up against her upper lip, hiding her giggles.
I took her by the wrist and led her to the living room couch. Juliet wandered in as I sat down.
“Lenore.” I patted my thigh. “Lay your lovely body across my knee. We’re going to have a little chat about your whereabouts this evening, got it?”
“Yes, Miss.” Lenore bit her lip to stop another fit of giggles and did as I asked.
Juliet sauntered over, taking a seat on the arm of the couch. She was still fiddling with the calipers and now had a spiral bound pad of paper with a stubby pencil, like the kind old time reporters used to take notes. I still had no idea where any of it came from.
I touched Lenore gently between the şişli bayan escort shoulder blades and slid my fingers over her soft skin, down to the lovely curve of her buttocks. “Lenore,” I said. “I’m going to ask you some questions, but first I’m going to enjoy this beautiful ass of yours. Your safe word is red, is that correct?”
“Yes.” No giggles this time.
I fished around in my pocket until I felt the leather strap Karin had gifted to me. I folded it over once.
Lenore squealed. I watched the pink rising on her flesh and felt a stirring in my loins.
Lenore moaned this time. She raised her ass up just a little, ready to meet the next one head on. I figured one more ought to do it.
While I was enjoying Lenore’s enthusiastic reaction, Juliet had moved from her perch on the arm of the couch and was crouching on the floor, looking up at Lenore from below. In her hand she held the calipers. She was busy taking precise measurements of Lenore’s fingers, toes, and nipples. I was about to ask why when Lenore shifted on my leg, arching her back and pushing her ass up some more.
I gathered up the strap again.
While Juliet was recording her caliper measurements on a pad of paper, I gently laid the strap to rest on Lenore’s back. I pressed my middle finger deep into her, shivering just a little as I felt her enveloping me with wetness while my finger disappeared between her hot and swollen pussy lips.
“Did you like that?”
I got a guttural moan in lieu of words.
I leaned down so my lips hovered just over her ear. “You’ll do just fine,” I whispered.
“Is this about the pie?” she asked.
“No.” I pistoned my finger in and out a few times, taking care to rub up against the bundle of nerves that I knew she would appreciate.
Lenore moaned and ground her hips into my hand. Her juices were hot and slick, dribbling down to my wrist now. The air was beginning to smell musky.
“Did you notice?” I pulled my finger out and dangled it about an inch from her parted mouth. “When I spanked you. It made your pussy wet. You’re going to make your mistress very happy when the time comes.”
Lenore let out a lusty moan and attacked my finger with her lips and tongue. I didn’t even have to ask. “Very happy,” I said.
Meanwhile, Juliet had just taken a second measurement of Lenore’s nipples and wrote it down on her steno pad. She raised an eyebrow as she silently compared the before and after numbers.
When Lenore finished cleaning my finger, I swatted her hard on the ass, leaving her a nice five-fingered souvenir. “Next,” I announced.
“Don’t you have any other questions for me, Miss? About Miss Desi’s pie?”
I laid my hand on Lenore’s shoulder and helped her up. Before she was completely upright, I pulled her in for a nice long kiss on the mouth. “Next!”
Lenore went back to the kitchen with a pink bottom and an ear to ear smile. Esme was next to lay her beautiful body over my knee.
As I was interrogating Esme, Juliet once again made her rounds with her steno pad and pencil. Though this time, after recording her numbers, Juliet paused to place a quick kiss on each of the three pink strap marks painting young Esme’s tender flesh.
“You’re going to make your future mistress very happy, Esme.” I imparted this wisdom while pressing up against the girl’s insides with my middle finger, just like I did for Lenore. And just like Lenore, Esme parted easily and quivered under my ministrations.
“Very happy, indeed.”
Esme finished every last drop of her lust that coated my finger, and her face scrunched up into the cutest little pout when she discovered there was no more—that the interrogation was over.
“Oh, Zaheera, darling,” I called as I sent Esme toward the kitchen with a quick pinch of her backside.
Zaheera laid her body slowly over my thigh. She was quivering.
“You know I’m not going to maim you, right?”
She nodded, but just barely.
I pulled out the strap and set it gently on the curve of her gorgeous olive-colored ass. “Think of it as getting a kiss,” I said. “A little kiss from the leather to you.”
Zaheera barely nodded again.
“Are you nervous?”
She nodded, more vigorously this time.
I left the strap there, draped şişli escort over her butt cheeks, and moved my hand to her shoulders. I rubbed one side and then the other.
“A little nervous is okay,” I said. “As long as you’re not scared out of your wits. That’s no fun for anybody.”
I traced out the line of her neck with the tip of my finger, starting just above her shoulder blades and making a trail into the thick, dark mane of her soft hair. “If you get too scared, just say your safe word and I’ll stop. Do you trust me?”
Juliet was starting her caliper measurements.
The nod I got this time from Zaheera was somewhere between the uncertainty of the first and the wholehearted agreement of the second. I took it as a good sign and picked up the strap in my hand.
Zaheera shreiked. And then she sniffled.
“Remember your safe word.” I quickly rubbed the pinkening flesh.”
This time I got a grunt. She was clenching her lower lip between her teeth. Juliet was on the floor beside Zaheera. She had stopped measuring and was holding Zaheera’s hand.
“Do you want to stop?”
Zaheera sniffled a little, but at the same time, shook her head.
“Juliet will help you.”
I watched Juliet snuggling up to Zaheera, with an arm across her back and their faces pressed together, cheek to cheek.
I heard the strangest sound, something between a chuckle and a gasping moan, as Zaheera’s body spasmed and the breath left her gaping mouth. I touched my finger against her smooth, dusky mound. She was warm and flushed, but her moisture was only just beginning to flow. She hung her head and I heard a long, slow sigh crossing her lips.
“It’s okay, Zaheera,” I said. “Spanking’s not for everyone.”
“I did it,” she said. Then another sigh. “I had my finger in Desi’s pie.”
“Is that why you were so nervous this whole time?”
“Thank you for your honesty, doll,” I said, once again channeling my inner hard-boiled detective. “You’ll probably be sent up the river for your offense, but I’m sure it’s nothing a gal like you can’t handle. I cupped my palm and rubbed her beautiful ass. It was warm to the touch, but she didn’t flinch.
* * *
I looked around to find my fellow investigator, but she was gone from the room. When I spied her whereabouts, Juliet was exiting the kitchen, red-faced with the calipers dangling between her fingertips, just barely in her grip. Judging from the grin on Miss Chowdhury’s face, and her only partially buttoned white coat, I figured Juliet was recovering from a rather enthusiastic bosom smothering from our executive chef. I was a little jealous.
“Detective Juliet, darling. May I borrow your notepad, please? And the calipers as well,” I said. “I have a theory I’d like to test.”
Juliet shuffled over in a bit of a daze. She took a deep breath and sighed. Her eyelids fluttered the entire time.
“While I’m borrowing your notes, do you suppose you’d like to practice with Zaheera?” I handed the strap over to Juliet and turned my gaze toward Zaheera. “A few more stripes might teach her to keep her fingers out of other people’s pie.”
“But, I only had one finger in Desi’s pie,” Zaheera said. “What about all the others?”
“Detective Juliet. Please see to it that Miss Chowdhury’s assistants each receive an extra five from the strap.”
No sooner had the words left my mouth, than Karin crossed the threshold from kitchen, to dining room, to living room. “What makes you so sure you have the right suspects?” she said.
I took a breath, preparing to offer my explanation of the events, but Juliet beat me to it. She stood proud, stroked her fake mustache twice, and began to speak.
“You see, Miss Karin.” Juliet held up the calipers. “I have been busy taking precise measurements of everyone’s fingers. Anyone in attendance at this little impromptu interrogation has had their finger diameter checked, double-checked, and recorded here.” She held up her steno pad.
“So?” Karin said. “I already told you it was me who violated Desi’s pie.
“This may be true, Miss Karin.” Juliet stroked her mustache again. “But there are multiple entries, all of different depths and diameters, perforating the top crust of the pie. I have mecidiyeköy escort taken precise measurements of each and every one.
“No single hole is the same size, suggesting different fingers. My initial theory was that the perpetrator must have stabbed at Desi’s pie with their whole hand, sinking five fingers in at a time. That would account for the difference in diameters.
“But, the alignment of the fingers was all wrong, even considering that one might tuck one’s thumb in to make it easier to penetrate the pie. At first this troubled me. But then, as I began to accumulate more measurements from each of the party guests, the puzzle began to make sense. I had my suspect… or should I say suspects.
“There are precisely seven holes, because each of tonight’s dinner guests has had precisely one finger in Desi’s pie. One finger from each person, in seven seemingly random places. This is the only possible explanation.”
Juliet finished up by stroking her emergency mustache rather thoughtfully.
“But there’s only five of us here being interrogated, not counting Desi,” Karin said. “And seven holes. That means you two are just as guilty as everyone else. You had your fingers in Desi’s pie just like the rest of us.”
“Mais, non.” Juliet said.
Karin glared back at her.
“Assuming Miss Desi did not sink her fingers into her own pie this evening, and I strongly suspect she did not, we still have two suspects who have not been questioned.”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t?” Desi had stepped out from behind Karin and was rubbing at the crotch of her designer jeans while licking her lips and batting her lashes.
“I have no doubt that you would gladly put your fingers in your own pie,” Juliet said, as she touched a finger to the fake mustache that was now coming loose on one side from all the stroking. “But, I would also propose that you had plenty of time to taste your pie while you were at home. There would be no need for you to do it here and risk getting caught. Therefore, you have been eliminated as a suspect.”
Esme was nodding. “I did it. When I saw there had already been five finger in Desi’s pie, I figured one more won’t hurt. Nobody would know it was me. How did you know it was me?”
Juliet held up the calipers and grinned. “Not only do I know how much the diameter of your nipples tightens up as you’re being spanked, I also know the precise measurements of everyone’s fingers. All except for two people.”
Juliet thoughtfully stroked her mustache one more time. So thoughtfully, in fact, it was hanging crooked by the time she was done.
“Brilliant deduction, toots,” I said, reaching over to straighten her emergency ‘stache. “I never would have come up with that in a million years.”
“Thank you, Detective Charlotte.” Juliet kissed me on the cheek and grinned. “Shall we question the other two suspects now?”
In my peripheral vision, I witnessed Karin rolling her eyes. “This I’ve got to see,” she said. “Yes, do carry on with the interrogations, detectives.”
“Just as soon as I take care of the additional five lashes for these ladies and their lovely asses,” I said.
“What about Miss Chowdhury?” Karin asked. “She’s just as guilty as the rest.”
“Oh, I’m sure my loyal assistants would be more than happy to step in and take any lashes I might have coming in my place.” Miss Chowdhury cheerfully rolled her R sound and grinned from ear to ear. “Unless, of course, the lovely detective Juliet herself would care to bend me over the butcher block. I may need some extra attention from her to assuage my guilt.”
Esme, Lenore, and Zaheera, who had previously stood with their lips pressed tightly together, eyeing the floor, let out a collective sigh of relief as Juliet took their boss by the hand. “Yes, Miss Chowdhury.”
“You three,” I said, eyeing the trio of birthday suited sous chefs, “come with me.”
“Yes, Miss Charlotte,” they giggled.
I laid one across Lenore’s tushie for no reason in particular, other than it’s a really fine example of a tushie, and it pinkens so adorably when it’s kissed with the strap.
Juliet shuffled off to the kitchen with Miss Chowdury, grinning all the way.
It would seem as though the mystery of who had their fingers in Desi’s pie has been mostly solved, with only two suspects remaining to be interviewed. But what about the mystery of Mistress Natasha at the beck and call of Mistress Betty Nguyen?
Be sure to read Chapter 6: Dragon Lady Part Deux.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32