Modus Operandi

MODUS OPERANDI

Part Three

Chapter One… A one on one repeat interview, alone without the Sergeant present.

       Knowing he’ll be working late for an interview, and without Sgt. Johnson, he studies the files yet again.  Trying to tie the cases together, to find that one strand, that single clue that can lead down the right path, he’s still troubled by his instinctive thoughts, by where the evidence seems to possibly be leading.  Glancing toward the clock, picking up, dialing the landline, he confirms his surprising appointment request from earlier in the morning.

       The drive alone giving him time to think, to ponder the possibilities, he finds himself pulling up once again in front of the now familiar address, the route just a blur from his mind being so deep in thought wondering where this interview could possibly lead.  The wrought iron gate, the security camera, the same condo he originally visited just over a week ago with Sgt. Johnson, he’s barely out of the car as the gated door swings open.

“Lieutenant Lewis.”

“Yes ma’am,” he acknowledges, facing her standing in the doorway, actually more then just attractive, quite stunning in her smartly matched riding attire, the whole nine yards from slick black leather English riding boots to the black velvet covered English riding helmet, her form fitting tan britches and white silk blouse filling in in-between.  Her tanned face glistening with just a hint of perspiration, even a riding crop in her hand, he’s taken by her appearance, her makeup impeccable, her bright red lipstick and fingernails perfect for her outfit.

“Come in please, I just got home myself,” she offers, “ I got tied up a little longer then I anticipated at the stables but left as soon as I could get loose after you contacted me on the cell.”  A nonchalant smile as she steps aside, allows him to pass by, she points the tip of the crop toward the living room.  “The sofa or recliner, your choice Lieutenant.”

Picking the sofa, sitting toward the center, he’s surprised as she steps closer, slips in between the armrest and him.  “Don’t mind if I sit here a moment, do you Lieutenant?”  Her voice on the raspy side, yet still feminine, he ambiguously nods, sliding a little closer to the other armrest as she lays the crop on the armrest.

“Please Lieutenant; I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?… Sorry for my rushed appearance,” she apologizes as she lets her hand slide across his knee.  “I’m not meaning too… I mean I’m not making you uncomfortable… Am I?”

“No ma’am,” he answers, the feel of her fingers pressing, gripping ever so slightly just above his knee.  “If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable too.”  Glancing into her eyes, dark brown, almost piercing, he can’t help thinking back to the day he found her bound naked, brutalized on her bed.  Thinking of that photo on her dresser of her on the beach in her sexy string bikini, by the looks of her outfit now that same bikini would still fit, and she would still do it justice.

“I’m glad you could come alone this time Lieutenant… Like I requested,” she offers as he even recalls the scent on his police jacket all that time ago being the same as she’s wearing now.  “Hope you don’t mind if I get a little more comfortable, out of these tight clothes do you?... And please… Don’t be shocked and… And no questions until I’m ready… Oblige me!”

Listening to her voice, the kind that he could listen to forever, sultry, even seductive, pretty much confused to what she’s asking, bemused even, he just nods his head, feels her fingers momentarily gripping a little firmer as she stands, faces him, still staring directly into his eyes.  Watching her raising her hands, her fingers reaching for, probing the top button on her blouse, the second, the third being slowly undone, he can’t believe he’s seeing the blouse spreading open beneath her pouting lips.  Parting across her white cotton bra covering her shimmering rounded breasts, the curved mounds almost overflowing the full cups, the blouse slips down across her shoulders.

Staring toward what appears to be fresh marks across the tops of her breasts as her shoulders arch back, seeing the blouse slipping down across her arms, down to her wrists, watching her slowly turning, her glistening breasts thrusting outward stretching at the bra, her tanned flesh contrasting with the white undergarment, the obviously fresh pair of visible welts crisscrossing her chest contrasting with her tanned flesh, he struggles to remain silent, slides back a little further across the couch.

Both arms rising above her head as she slowly turns, the blouse dropping across his lap, her back’s layered with multiple stripes, otherwise bare besides the thick white strap crossing just below her shoulder blades as she faces completely away from him.  Staring at her back, the crisscrossing whip marks, he hears her almost whispering voice.  “Unsnap me please… Unsnap it for me Lieutenant.”

Her head turning, barely revealing the side of her shimmering face, he remains motionless as she gives just a hint of a forced smile.  “My bra… Unhook it, please… My back’s sore to the touch.”

“I… I don’t think tha…..”

“Lieutenant!”  She interrupts, “please, it’s not like you haven’t seen my bare breasts before… And in a lot worse shape then this… Now please indulge me for a moment… My back’s sore.”

Surreally reaching toward her, his fingers gripping, unfastening the snaps one at a time, he feels the softness of her smooth, damp flesh between the welts, watches her shoulder, back muscles rippling as the third snap slips away.  Almost jerking his hands back as her arms suddenly lower, cross in front of her, he watches as her hands reach around her sides, her fingers clenching, tugging the cups gingerly out away from her swaying breasts before she flips the bra back across his lap.

Allowing her pendulous breasts to momentarily sway freely back and forth, her hands rising, fingers interlocking above the top of the velvet lined helmet, the silhouettes of the rounded curves of her globular mounds jaunt outward from either side of her ribcage beneath her armpits.  Slowly turning, allowing her hands to slip downward, glide across the pair of welts glistening across her chest, she cups the outer portions of her breasts with her thumbs while pressing inward, the tips of her fingers nearly touching across her sternum.  Thumbs fluttering across her firm tit flesh, brushing over her tan areolas, flicking against her hardening nipples, both nubs are obviously pierced but void of any current jewelry.  Again her deep eyes staring into his, her expression stoic, she rasps, “the last time you saw my breasts they were in a lot worse condition then they are now, weren’t they Lieutenant?... Just these couple whip marks from that crop now.”

Watching her slowly arching her shoulders, bowing her back, letting her breasts spring out above her spreading red  lacquered fingernails as her hands lower, slide almost gingerly down toward her sides, the firm mounds seem even larger, fuller then he remembered, the dark oval areolas perfectly centered.   Continuing to sway, the globular melons standing upright, the pair of overlapping purplish stripes trace across her chest, neither welt actually breaching the flesh.  Eyes locking as her hands again slowly slides downward, cross in front of her riding britches, her fingers meet in the front, begin unsnapping the buttons, slowly separating the fly.

Dumfounded, his pulse picking up a couple beats, he can’t believe she’s stripping in front of him, let alone showing fresh whip marks.  Leaning back as she bends forward above his lap, her hips twisting, her breasts elongating, smacking together as the stretching pants material shimmies down across her firm thighs, she allows her breasts to virtually press across his face.  Reflexively reaching up, cupping, feeling her melon sized mounds resting in his upturned palms, he also attracted toward her panty-less tanned flesh sans of her freshly shaven pubic mound with similar crossing welts, her firm labia folds discolored by what appears to be lasting imprints of clamps as she continues to shove the pant-legs on down to collect across the tops of her nearly knee height boots.

A hint of a forced smile, standing upright again with her breasts lifting free of his gripping fingers, spreading her legs as wide as she’s able, the pant’s material tautly stretches between her bowing knees.  Again raising her arms, slowly interlocking her fingers behind her neck, the partially uncovered bun of her hair slightly unravels beneath the back of the riding helmet as she arches back, glances down across her swaying breasts from one jiggling nipple to the other.

“Well… Lieutenant Lewis… Remember the last time you saw me like this all that time ago?... I was only twenty-one back then… Just a naïve, big tittied kid.”  She nods, appreciating his expression as she speaks.  “Got to see my body naked like I am now, and wanted to feel my titties back then I bet, didn’t you?... But didn’t, no, not like you just did now.”  A couple seductive twists back and forth, still starring with her piercing eyes, she adds, “tell me, didn’t you think for just the briefest of a moment about mounting me back then?... I mean, spread out there on the bed naked, already abused, totally helpless and tied… Didn’t it cross your mind to climb on me… Maybe even later, I know you had to think about me after that, you wanted to either fuck me or whip me, didn’t you?... I know you did… Maybe both… Just like you do now!” 

Listening, barely paying attention to the significance of her seductive voice, giving her not much more then an awkward nod without any real meaning, her naked body’s even more then erotic, even the obviously fresh whip marks covered by the shimmering coat of perspiration adding to her intoxicating look as he remains almost quiet, almost transfixed until he finally mumbles, “what… What happened to you………”

“What happened to me, Lieutenant?... You mean now?... Today?”  She smirks, “what happened is I just left a discipline session… And when we’re done here, I’m to return for the remainder of my punishment session.”

“Punish… Disciplined for….Who’s doing this, making you…………”

“Lieutenant… Don’t be so naive!”  Her tone scolding as she remains in her pose, legs, arms spread apart, the rest of her statuesque body totally naked between the riding boots and felt covered helmet.  “You’re a detective… Detect!... Look at these welts, my back!... How you think they got there?”

Slipping up off the couch, within inches of her face, practically ready to reach out, grab her, cover her up with her blouse; she remains with her breasts thrust out between them, firmly posed in her stance while continuing to follow his eyes with her own, somewhat of a smirk on her face.

“Lieutenant, I’m disappointed in you,” she nods, “its obvious isn’t it… But don’t worry… This is a part of my lifestyle now… Has been for a long time… I’m what you’d have to call a classic Masochist… I accept my discipline… Actually, I feel rewarded when I’m being punished.”

“What about back… Back… Then… When……….”

“If you want to question me anymore about back then,” she cuts in again, “you’ll be required to use the riding crop… You’ll need to hurt me to get answers!”

“Riding crop?... Hurt?”

“Pick up that crop.”  She nods, her eyes darting toward the arm rest as she remains rigid in her stance, her stomach hollowing with each breath, her only other discernable movement.  “Then, before asking a question, lash me a stroke across my breasts, my buttocks, or between my legs… Your choice.”

“I… I can’t do that for Christ’s sake!”  He murmurs as his eyes automatically follows hers to the black leather riding crop angled across the sofa’s arm rest.

“Then our interview will have to be concluded unless you agree,” she sternly answers, her eyes still fixed on his, her body still just as taut in her pose.  “Whip me, and whip me with a purpose or you can find your own way out…. No in-between… I know you want too; I can see it in your eyes… There’re lots of things you can think of that you would want to do with me… Thought about doing to me for a long, long time… And now, you can!... You can have me… Just pick up the crop and start using it.”

Glancing toward the crop, back toward her, glancing toward the closed door to the front of the condo, he hesitates, tries to suppress the feeling in his gut, the same feeling he got with Johnson, even becoming stronger.  Again her scent, her look, the blatant offer to do whatever........ 

“Want a signed disclaimer Lieutenant?”  She breaks his train of thought, her voice still sultry, even a hint of chiding as her body glistens in front of him.  “You really don’t need one… But I will…  Now please… Pick up the crop and use it, you know you want too, we both want you too!”  Glancing downward, back and forth toward her quivering bare breasts, she seems to plead, “Either you whip me, my breasts, or I can’t answer any more of your questions… You want to shed some light on what happened to me… To the others, don’t you… Now please, pick it up and begin our interview…. And again Lieutenant… Use the crop with purpose!... Match the intensity of these stripes… Force those answers out of me!”

Reaching for the crop, flicking it back and forth across his palm, he glances directly toward her face as the ‘smacking’ of leather against his hand echoes across the room.  Seeing the sparkle in her eyes, her body twitching with each snap of the crop, the anticipation in her knowing eyes staring back at him as her breasts jaunt even further outward to accept the lashing, he reaches out, lets the tip of the crop glide gently across an areola.

“Do it,” she groans, falling into the role.  “Oh God yes, do it…  Whip me, my titties… Hard across my bare nipples… Do it!...  Do it!... Hurt me… Sir!”

Carefully circling the nub, watching her nipple shriveling with anticipation from the contact, watching her abs flexing beneath her ribcage, he grips the tip of the crop, curls it back into a bow.  Holding it, centering it above her quivering nipple, he shakes his head back and forth, drops the crop across the sofa.  “Sorry, can’t do it,” he nods as he reaches for her hands, tugs them down toward her sides, her breasts brushing, flattening across his chest as she leans forward, their lips practically touching.  Stepping back a step or so, he adds, “I don’t know what you’re about, but there’s no way in Hell I could explain any of this shit to Internal… Sorry!”

Another glance at her naked body, her disappointment showing on her face, in her eyes, he steps toward the door, turns as he reaches the arched doorway.  “Sorry, I’ve got to get back now.”

Turning herself, disgustedly slipping her crinkled riding britches up across her hips, again cupping her breasts between her spreading fingers, thumbs, she smirks, “Okay, Lieutenant, okay for now… But we’ll have our little session together, I promise… You know you’re not going to be able to get me out of your mind… That you can have this body anyway you want… To do with as you want… For as long as you want, even as your own personal sex slave.”  Bending, reaching for her bra, another forced smile, she nods, “you heard me right… Your sex salve, and with all the obvious benefits… Just call me when you finally decide you want me… I’ll be discreet… So anytime… Hopefully sooner then later!”

Opening the door behind him, leaving and entering his unmarked car, backing away, dropping the shifter into drive, he glances toward her standing in the doorway fastening the back of her bra.  Pulling away, the trip back to downtown begins as he knows she’s right, she’s the only thing on his mind right now as he rubs his aching crotch.

End Part Three… To be continued