Hot Sheets (24 page)

"Ah, Mr Hunt,
Inspector Dickwipe here."

Fuck me!
"Oh, hallo, Inspector. What
can I do for you?"

"I'd like you
to come down to the station to make a statement."

"A statement?
What about? There isn't another woman ranting and raving about
being savaged by wild cats in one of my bathrooms, is there?"

"No, not this
time. Miss Knickerlace is here with the girl you allegedly
seduced."

Jesus fucking Christ!
"Er... I'm
rather busy just now, Inspector."

"I'll expect
you in about ten minutes, Mr Hunt. Oh, and please don't think of
leaving the country, I'd hate to be forced to have Interpol arrest
and deport you."

"All right,
all right, I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Good, I
thought you'd see sense."

Replacing the
receiver, Mike sighed. This was it, the end, he was sure as WPC
Widegroin emerged from the bar and climbed the stairs. She was
obviously off on her tour of the hotel, looking for clues, for
signs of ill repute. Eyeing the letter opener, the long silver
blade gleaming in the light, a terrible and most evil idea crossed
his mind.

Midday
Saturday, and the food for the wedding reception was far from
ready. The electricity supply was still on, which was something
Mike had to be thankful for, but the forty-odd wedding guests would
soon be arriving to discover a shambolic excuse of a buffet.

"What a
fucking bastard of a week this has been!" Mike cursed, kicking the
kitchen door open to find Dave balancing a tray of charred
vol-au-vents in one hand and a plate of prawns in the other.
"Christ, I spend the bloody night and half the morning in the
fucking police cells, and I have to come back to complete and utter
chaos!"

"All under
control," Dave grinned, dropping the plate of prawns. "Shit!"

"Jesus Christ,
Dave! As if I haven't got enough on my plate without..."

"I wish the
prawns were on my plate!"

"Your
bollocks'll be on a plate in a minute!"

"Talking of
bollocks, what happened at the cop shop?"

"Hell,
absolute bloody hell! It's not the girl, Kirsty, it's that cuntless
old bat, Knickerlace. Apparently, the witch noticed a good helping
of spunk in Kirsty's knickers. She can't prove anything, of course,
but it doesn't look too good for me."

"What about
DNA? They could check your spunk and..."

"No, by the
time the old hag had dragged Kirsty to the cop station, the girl
had rinsed out her knickers and douched her fanny with a garden
hose. Fortunately, there's no proof whatsoever. Besides, she's
eighteen - eligible for a damned good shagging."

"You're OK,
then?"

"Not quite.
Knickerlace is accusing me of rape."

"Blimey!"

"Kirsty's told
the cops that nothing happened, but Dickwipe already has it in for
me and he won't let it rest."

"That reminds
me, Inspector Dickwipe has been here looking for Harold Gloom."

"Oh, God! I'll
have to tell poor old Harold to leave, I can't afford to be part of
his murder games."

"Mrs Gloom's
been going mental, threatening to call in the FBI."

"The FBI?
Christ, she is mental! I'll have to chuck them all out, they're
causing too many bloody problems."

"Your
ex-wife's none too happy, either."

"Why, what's
her problem?"

"She wants you
to fuck her."

"What? Is that
what she said?"

"No, but it's
pretty obvious. She's been pining for you."

"I suppose I
could give her one up her bum, just for old time's sake. I'll
suggest it when I next see her. Has anything else happened? Not
that I really want to know!"

"Yes, the King
of Skythuania is after your blood. The princess rang to say that
he's on his way here with a bunch of machine gun-wielding
henchmen."

"Bloody hell!
I might be shot, assassinated - killed, even!"

"That's the
price you pay for screwing a princess's royal fanny. It'll turn out
to be a costly fuck!"

"Yes, it'll
cost me my life! Actually, that might not be a bad thing! But I
can't worry about that now. So, what about the wedding
reception?"

"As I said,
it's all under control. By the way, that Widegroin bird has been
snooping round the third floor. Paul said that she'd been asking
questions about the building and..."

"Bloody hell,
that's all I need! I'll rip her nipples off!"

"There's
worse, I'm afraid."

"Worse? Go on,
you might as well tip the entire load of crap over me!"

"She's been
outside, counting the windows, and she reckons that there's a
fourth floor. I'd say that she's sussed you, Mike."

"Where's the
snooping little bitch now?"

"I don't know.
Oh, Paul's fitted a special switch to the lift. We've all got our
own keys, here's yours."

"Great!" Mike
beamed, taking the key.

"He's also
carpeted the area where the staircase was on the third floor."

"That's good,
now no one will ever know there were stairs there. OK, do your best
with the food and I'll go and find that Widegroin Pig Cunt. I
wonder whether she's got a tight one?"

"More than
likely."

"With any
luck, I'll find out. Remind me to kick you in the balls later."

"Will do."

Dashing
upstairs to the devious blonde's room, Mike took the skeleton key
from his pocket and let himself in. She wasn't there, but he
noticed her police-issue notebook lying on the bed. Flicking
through the pages, he grinned as he read her scrawl.

Counting the rows of windows outside the hotel, it's obvious
that there's a fourth floor. Cleverly, the staircase has been
removed and the lift only ascends to the third floor, but that
didn't fool me! As yet, I've been unable to reach the mysterious
top floor. But being a highly competent, up-and-coming young WPC
with plenty of initiative, I'm going to climb the fire escape and
gain access
.

Slinging the
notepad on the bed, Mike rocketed from the room and took the lift
to the top floor. What he'd do if he discovered Wendy Widegroin
snooping around room sixty-nine, he had no idea. No normal hotel
rooms contained spanking frames, dildos, whips, handcuffs,
vibrators... there was no way he could innocently explain away the
sex equipment!

Entering the original room sixty-nine, he focused on the
padded frame, picturing Widegroin's naked body bent over the bar,
her wrists cuffed to her ankles, her rounded buttocks projected,
positioned for a damned good whipping.
Must
get hold of a spanking paddle
.

"Well, the
bitch isn't here," he murmured, turning on his heels to leave the
room. Hearing muffled movements in the hall, he tiptoed across the
carpet and hid behind the door. Holding his breath as the door
slowly opened, he was determined to put an end to Widegroin's
snooping - even if it meant thrashing her naked buttocks until she
begged for mercy!

"Ah, Miss
Widegroin!" he grinned as she crept into the room and ran her hand
over the wooden frame. "What are you doing up here?"

"Oh! I... I
seem to have got lost!" she gasped, surprised, turning to face him.
"I was looking over the hotel and..."

"And you
climbed the fire escape to this floor?" Mike smirked, closing and
locking the door.

"No, no
I..."

Slipping the
key into his pocket, he leaned against the door. "That's a nice
dress you're wearing, would you mind taking it off?"

"Taking it
off?" the sensuous sleuth echoed, her inquisitive blue eyes
widening with fear.

"I'm sure
you'd look far better naked - WPC Widegroin!"

"Oh! Er... you
know about..."

"Yes, I know
all about you, Inspector Prickwipe - and Operation Harlot! I'm
usually a very placid man, Wendy - quiet, calm... I'm
happy-go-lucky most of the time but, when people deliberately rile
me, I become upset."

"I was only
staying here for a few days to have a break, to get away from it
all. I got lost - I wasn't snooping around, if that's what you
think."

"No, that's
not what I think - that's what I know. I read your notebook, the
comments about the top floor. I also listened in to your phone call
to Inspector Prickwipe. The problem I have now is, what do I do
with you?"

"Look, I'll
leave the hotel and that'll be the end of the matter," she smiled,
moving towards the door, towards Mike.

"Oh, no, you
can't leave," he said quietly menacingly, moving aside. "You can't
leave because the door's locked."

"But I have
to..."

"I don't want
you to go running to Inspector Prickwipe with your stories about
the fourth floor, Wendy. Surely, you can see the position I'm in?
I'll have to keep you here, indefinitely."

"You can't
keep me here!" the blonde beauty protested, folding her arms over
her pert breasts. "It's against the law to..."

"Most things I
do are against the law, so I wouldn't worry about that! OK, take
your dress off."

Twisting her
long golden locks around her trembling fingers, her bottom lip
quivering, the delectable young policewoman gazed fearfully at her
captor. There was no escape, she knew, and she'd left her radio
alarm in her room. Looking down at her turquoise dress, she toyed
hesitantly with the buttons. In her naivety, she hoped that, by
allowing the man to scrutinize her naked body, she'd be given her
freedom.

"I'm waiting,"
Mike smiled nonchalantly, feasting his eyes on her shapely thighs
and wondering whether he should shave her pubes off.

"Look, this is
silly!" she giggled nervously. "I can't take my dress off in front
of a stranger! Apart from anything else, it's against police
policy."

"I'm not a
policeman, so the policy doesn't apply. Allow me to strip you."

"No, no!" she
cried as Mike stood before her and reached out to unbutton her
dress. "Look, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement. I
know - how about employing me as one of your girls?"

"Girls?"

"Yes, you
know, one of your call girls."

"What do you
know about call girls?"

"Well,
nothing, I just..."

"Yes, yes I
like that idea very much!" Mike beamed. "OK, Wendy, I'll take you
on! But I'll have to see your wares first, so strip off and show me
your unofficial assets."

Hesitantly
unbuttoning her dress, Wendy slipped the garment over her
shoulders. She had no choice, she knew - she either played the game
or... or what? she wondered. Noticing the cat of nine tails leaning
menacingly against the wall in the corner of the room, her eyes
widened as her dress slipped down her curvaceous body and draped
her feet.

Nodding his
head agreeably, Mike focused on her alert nipples, her firm rounded
breasts. She was wearing blue silk panties, he observed, casting
his eyes over the swelling triangle of material veiling her full
labia. His penis hardening as he imagined slipping his truncheon
into the wet heat of her tight sex cell, he waited expectantly.

"Well, there
we are," Wendy smiled, projecting her pert breasts as she kicked
her dress aside and stepped out of her shoes. "So, when do I
start?"

"I haven't
seen your wares yet," Mike replied, his eyes still focused on her
bulging panties. "I'll need to see you in all your naked glory
before..."

"I'm not going
to take my knickers off!" the young woman remonstrated.

"Wendy, if
you're to become one of my girls, how on earth are you going to
satisfy the punters with your panties on?"

"Well, I'll
take them off when..."

"You'll take
them off now, Wendy."

Resigning
herself to the fact that she had to exhibit her most intimate
femininity to her captor, Wendy slipped her thumbs between her
shapely hips and the tight elastic of her panties. This was all
part of her job, she decided, tugging the flimsy material down,
revealing her triangular patch of sparse blonde pubes. If she
wanted promotion, she had no choice other than to bare her sexual
centre and gain the scoundrel's confidence - become one of his call
girls.

"Very nice!"
Mike praised her as she pulled her panties down to her knees, her
gaping vaginal crack unashamedly displayed. "OK, take your panties
off and bend over the frame," he instructed her.

"Bend over?"
she asked, her face flushing with embarrassment as she cast her
fearful eyes over the padded bar.

"Yes, if I'm
to examine your wares properly, you'll have to stand with your feet
wide apart and bend over the frame."

"But..."

"You do want
to work for me, don't you?"

"Well, yes,
but..."

"You'll earn
ten times as much working for me than you do as a policewoman."

"You're not
going to do anything, are you? I mean, you only want to look, don't
you?"

"Yes, I only
want to look. I do this with all my new girls, Wendy. There's
nothing to be afraid of, it's just that I have to make sure you're
right for the job."

Kicking her
panties off her feet and moving towards the frame, Wendy
tentatively bent her naked body over the bar, praying that her
humiliating ordeal would soon be over. It was all in the line of
duty, she tried to convince herself as she clasped her shins, her
vaginal lips bulging alluringly between her parted thighs. Any good
policewoman would have done the same in her position - wouldn't
they?

"Yes,
perfect!" Mike praised her, focusing on her pink inner lips
unfurling invitingly between her firm, swollen sex cushions.
Grabbing two lengths of rope, he knelt behind her and deftly lashed
her wrists to her lower legs before she could realize what he was
doing. Trying to pull free, she protested as Mike stood up and
lovingly stroked her ballooning cunt lips.