Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

The Detectives And The Dominatrix

by Rbbral

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© Copyright 2018 - Rbbral - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF/fm+; police; investigation; suspects; interview; flirt; discovery; F/fm+; dungeon; trap; force; strip; latex; catsuit; bond; cuffs; gag; buttplug; hood; breathplay; bodybag; stuck; susp; oral; climax; cons/nc; XX

Story continued from Part one

Part 2: Assisting Police With Their Enquiries

There is a hubbub in the station as she arrives, she is certainly stunning and caught the eye of all the cops. She gives her statement to Benson and Ruby, the information being essentially the same she gave them earlier in her “office”.

She remains cool and in control, which seems to tick off Ruby, who had hoped in the police environment she might make some mistake, but nothing. In fact, Ruby is slowly warming to her, just slightly. She is clever, composed and tough, just what Ruby would like others to believe she is. And Miss Gunn is definitely the boss in a mainly man’s world. Ruby really doesn’t think she has killed Kemp, she is far too smart, and if she wanted him dead, she’d have found a much better way. But they have very else to go on for the moment, so she tries to keep an open mind and maybe have another look at the business partners, or even Kemp’s wife, maybe there is something there?

DCI Benson takes a break to think, and is told Kemp’s wife wants to see him. What’s her name again? Heather, yes, Heather. He doesn’t really want to see her now, but as a courtesy feels he has to. When she enters his office he can see she is flustered.

“Well, how is it going? They say here you have someone in custody, did he do it? My husband would not commit suicide, he must have been murdered, there is no alternative.”

“Or, Mrs. Kemp, it might have been an accident. There has been no arrest, she’s just helping us with our enquiries, she’s free to leave if she wishes. I really can’t say anything more than that.”

Then he realises he has said “she”, a stupid rookie mistake. Clearly being with Miss Gunn has got him a bit rattled. But the wife doesn’t seem to pick up on it, showing no reaction.

“The damn tabloids have it as some awful auto erotic death. Have you seen them? My god, I’m so embarrassed, it’s bad enough having lost my husband than to read sick stuff like that, it’s just preposterous; Joe and I had a good sex life together. We couldn’t have children but we still were normal in that er…department. So he wouldn’t go anywhere to get other… satisfaction, he must have been forced into it, and then killed by some sick person.” She takes a deep breath as if she’s said her bit, stands, nods her head and leaves, just like that.

Well that was a bit odd, Benson thought, but she must be under a lot of stress. He does feel sorry for her, putting up with all the tabloid rubbish. But Benson knew, even if his wife didn’t, that Kemp certainly wasn’t forced into it. After all he had all the rubber gear and had seen Emily Gunn many times, so was someone with him, playing their game? There is still the chance that there was something fishy here. This is where Kemp got his excitement, getting all rubberised and in bondage, but with someone else there? He goes to see the Super, who says.

“I’ve been with the DPP, so it’s no surprise we can’t keep her, not enough evidence, way too flimsy.”

“Boss, I’m not arguing with that, we have very little and I just brought her in to rattle her chain a bit, but she’s a very calm young lady. I know something is off here, I just don’t know what it is, suicide? No, can’t be, there are much faster ways. Game gone wrong? Yes, maybe it was all consensual and he had a partner and something goes wrong and she, or he, does a runner, panics. You know that’s a real possibility. Find his partner, perhaps it really was Miss Gunn and she’s just a hell of an actress. But my money is still on murder, very clever, very slick, I don’t know how or why, but I just feel it.”

“I told you Sam, I have always liked your intuition but I think you may have missed this one. Give it another two or three days, and then close it if you have nothing more, all right? The coroner will have to come up with a verdict, and if it is open, then we have to accept that.”

Benson returns to Emily Gunn, who is sitting with Ruby, they are staring at each other, but saying nothing, although there is less tension between them than before.

“Okay, you can go Miss Gunn, the sergeant will see you out, and thank you for the statement, if there is anything else…”

“Look Chief Inspector, Joe was a friend as well as a client, I want to help in any way…” He laughs.

“Like how, that’s sweet coming from you, I haven’t taken you off my suspect list yet.” Ruby nods at Benson, she will wait outside.

“Oh, give it up Chief Inspector. Are we off the record now, no audio and no video, and your sidekick has gone.”

“Yes, so what.”

“All right, let me paint you a picture.” She sits again, placing her hands on her shiny leather-encased thighs, thinking. “Okay. He was found wearing a rubber suit and mask, in a hotel, he’s on his own or with a partner, but most likely on his own, I’m pretty sure.”

“How can you say that, you have no idea.”

“Look, he would only trust me to play our game with him. He doesn’t know anybody else who could be with him, it takes months, maybe a year or more before you build up that kind of trust. Look, I know what goes on here, or should go on here, okay, show me the pictures or video or whatever you do at the scene. I might see something. I know how these scenes are set up and played out, you have no idea, just for once admit I’m the expert here. Me.” She stabs her chest getting animated.

“No, no and no. Are you joking, show pictures to a suspect?” She stares up at him.

“I think you think there was some crime here, something definitely off kilter, but you don’t know how, or who, obviously. But you have an ego, don’t you, and I don’t mind that, obviously you’re very good at your job.” He doesn’t fall for her flattery. “But I think you’re frightened you might have missed something. Blotting your copybook.” He says nothing, letting her carry on.

“Look, this is my world, Benson, and I want to help Joe. I know everything there is about this scene. This is not about me, or you for that matter, it’s about getting justice for Joe. Stop being such an arrogant twerp and let me see the crime scene photos, or video, or whatever you have. If something is off, not right in the photos I’ll know, give me just three minutes. If I find nothing then I’m gone, all right?”

“No, absolutely not, I’d be drummed out of the force if I let a member of the public, a suspect for god’s sake, see our evidence. You’re still our suspect here. Don’t forget that.” He stands by the door, staring at her. She’s certainly beautiful, and very smart too, but also perhaps just a bit dangerous as well. There’s a file in front of her on the desk, he glances at it and she follows his eyes, saying nothing, but her expression says everything.

I don’t know why I’m doing this, he thinks, I must be mad, I must be bloody mad. He drops his head.

“I’m drained, this is going nowhere. I’m getting a coffee, you want one?”

“Erm, er, sure, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Erm, I don’t suppose you have expresso?” She sees his look, and she laughs, it’s a nice laugh, throaty and giggly at the same time.

“Ha. You’ll be lucky if it’s hot and wet.”

“Okay, well then black, no sugar please.” He looks at her again, and leaves, I must be mad, he thinks.

He returns three minutes later, the file is in the same place on the table, and he hands her the coffee. she takes a sip and makes a face.

“Oooooh, that’s terrible.”

“Well I did warn you. Sorry.” She notices he didn’t get one for himself.

“Well I need a decent one, after all what you’ve put me through the least you can do is buy me one, a decent one that is.” It’s another challenge. He appraises her, she doesn’t seem to mind this.

“I don’t know about you, you’re a bloody strange one for sure. You do like to be in charge don’t you, and maybe you’re a bit of the black widow.”

He wasn’t sure why he blurted this silly comment. He comes closer to her, but she doesn’t flinch. She looks at him coolly, she’s almost as tall as he is, she must be over six feet in those heels. She is rather liking this banter, not intimidated at all.

“Detective Chief Inspector, really, that was a stupid comment, but I’ll let it go, for now. I don’t care what you think of me, I’m confident in who I am, I didn’t kill him and if you didn’t have such a big male ego you would follow me to the coffee shop now. You see I have a couple of ideas from the er, from when you left a minute ago.”

She leaves without looking back. She looks almost as good from the back as the front, her tight buttocks sheathed in black leather. He has an idea she is aware he’s looking at her, hell, any man would, and he has to stop himself for thinking like that, she’s still a suspect he keeps telling himself. He waits, kicking himself for getting dragged into this, but is still intrigued. Perhaps she is right, he is proud of his record of solving tough cases, he really doesn’t consider that he has an ego - well not a big one - he’s just good at what he does. And so he leaves and sees her across the road entering the local coffee shop, not looking back, perhaps knowing he would follow.

As he follows her in, he notices everyone looking at her, women and men. Nothing surprising there, she is striking; he stands behind her, smelling her hair.

“Do you get used to being looked at all the time, people ogling you. Doesn’t it make you angry, being sized up all the time?” He doesn’t know why he said that, but she turns and smiles, genuinely this time.

“No, not really, maybe occasionally, I suppose sometimes there is a price for beauty.”

“And no false modesty either. Well you don’t exactly hide anything. So you shouldn’t be surprised.” He pays for the coffees and takes them to a table.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Well, it’s a fact. You are beautiful, and you know it, and no doubt it helps you in your profession.” There’s no sarcasm in his comments, and she actually appreciates that, coming from a copper. She takes a sip and stares at him again.

“That’s better, and yes it helps me in my profession, but anyway, moving on, poor Joe,” she reminisces and smiles, “he did like the butt plug and the penile vacuum tube all right.” She chuckles sadly and leans forward. “Yes, I had a good look at the photos. Horrible, poor Joe to die like that, without any hope of escape, awful, bloody awful.” She leans over further and he can smell just a hint of perfume.

“Look Detective Chief Inspector, this isn’t suicide, way too unpleasant, and he was not the suicide type, never, end of story, okay? He has a gun at home, he told me, he and his wife are members of a club. A rather fancy pistol. That would be much quicker and also less embarrassing for the wife.” She takes another sip.

“And much more importantly, this is not an accident, look at the gas mask he wears, that re-breather bag doesn’t just close off air on its own. I made that perfectly clear to you earlier, you need to turn it fully off, and I’m sure it wasn’t fully off when you found him, yes?” Benson thinks on this, should he tell her? Okay, he nods, he’s prepared to tell her at least that.

“I thought so, and he can’t do that being cuffed at the waist, can he? He is far too experienced to make a mess of turning the re-breather bag too low. Just believe me here, it was not, no way, an accident.” She sits back to let him dwell on this. After a few seconds she continues.

“Where was the key, I didn’t see it. You have a single key for all the locks, you know that, right?” He waits again, then says.

“It was next to him, by his side.”

“By his side? Then why didn’t he use it on his cuffs and open the valve on the mask if he was losing oxygen.” She takes a sip, thinking. “I’ll tell you why.” She leans forward again, close to him, closer up she’s actually more stunning, and he finds himself holding his breath all of a sudden.

“Because the key wasn’t there beside him when he was suffocating. Somebody was in that room and placed it beside him - afterwards, after he had suffocated, the same somebody who turned off his air valve, and then once he’s dead turns it back on again.” She sits back watching his reaction.

Silence, silence for at least a minute. Then he says something that rather disappoints her.

“You realise you are putting yourself in the frame again.” He regrets saying this, she has shone some light on this after all. Could she really have killed him? No, she really is too smart to do it this way, and then tell him all about it.

“Oh for god’s sake, Detective Chief Inspector,” she almost sneers when she says his rank, her voice is raised and a couple next to them glance over, “you’d have perhaps figured this out anyway, you are meant to be sharp, aren’t you? I just am familiar with these scenes more than you, at least I hope so, unless you live a double life. You look the sort that could, like Superman, intelligent and perhaps a bit shy as well, and his second life, well, hhmm, whatever.” He doesn’t react to her bad joke, as she prods the table.

“Listen to me, I won’t say this again. This is no auto asphyxiation misadventure, he could release himself with the key, and if he had a partner, then she, or he, could do it, and it certainly isn’t suicide. Yes, he shouldn’t have played on his own if he was playing on his own, I told him that, but he was experienced, and he would have planned his release properly.”

“All right, you think it is either murder, or the partner not getting it right, panicking and running away. How or why would he have allowed someone to do this to him.”

“Someone he could trust, like me, yes, I know how that sounds bad for me. You don’t just meet someone and play out a scene like this. But he had no lovers, at least that I know, he had a wife but she wouldn’t play in this kind of scene, if she would then why would he come to me? And he did have me, and I wasn’t there, I can’t believe he could have found someone to play with him so quickly, so I think he did it on his own. I’m not sure of that 100%,but I’m sure he started out on his own.” Now she’s warming to this. “So he’s in the room, setting it all up, he’s done this before, dressing in his favourite rubber, putting the mask on, sucking on the cock – you know what that is like,” she smiles, raising her eyebrows, “the chains, the butt plug, getting into the mood, and he gets himself all set up and he’s having a great time… don’t look at me like that, this is no time to be so fucking judgmental,” he is surprised at her swearing, which when he thinks about what she’s describing, just seems a bit ironic, “you have a murderer out there. I’m, well 90% sure of it. So then the murderer… and it is murder here I think… chose to take over. Somehow he got into the room, did his murderous act and left. Someone with a grudge, and no Chief Inspector, not me. And now it is all up to you, a locked room mystery, you’re a clever boy, you’ll figure it.”

“I could just arrest you, no, pointless.” He regrets even bringing it up. She gave him a withering look.

“But I don’t think you have eliminated the partner panicking angle really. Other than telling me he couldn’t find a partner to trust in short time, it could still be a partner, it went wrong, maybe because he was inexperienced and he runs for it. And another thing, if he was on his own, I can see how you could get into his rubber and the mask and the chains, all of it,” he pauses and looks at her, “but how the hell do you get out?”

Now she was on her turf again and more than happy to explain.

“Oh, that’s easy, actually quite a number of ways. The self bondage fraternity have worked out over the years all sorts of clever ways of getting out of self bondage.” She smiled coolly.“ But the tried route is a timer device that releases the key.”

“What do you mean release the key, sounds quite complicated.”

“Not really, a key inside a melting ice cube suspended over him, or a candle will do, and a piece of string…”

He stares at her, his mouth open.


“There was a tiny smear of candle wax on the bedside table, we thought it was just not cleaned properly after the previous occupant, maybe a romantic couple, candlelight sex and all that.” He looks a tiny bit uncomfortable, and she smiles and sits back.

“Well well, and there was a chandelier over the middle of the bed, yes? Brilliant, there you have it easy peasy.”

She leans towards him again, she is energised now, happy to help with the investigation… he can smell her perfume, she really is beautiful, and he is beginning to enjoy watching her think this through.

“Okay, here’s how it goes, at least one way. There is a candle on the bedside, a piece of string touching the candle is attached to the lamp, then run over the light fixture or chandeleir and with the key tied to the end, this now dangles over him, temptingly out of reach. Then the candle burns down and through the string, and bingo, the key falls onto him and he releases himself. He’ll be experienced at this, he’ll do a couple of dummy runs, he’ll know how long the candle will take to burn, could be an hour, maybe even three or four hours, however long it takes for him to get pleasure, and more.”

“Four hours like that, tied up in rubber, gagged with a rubber cock, breathing in the rubber air, and with a butt… I can’t believe it. I don’t get it.” But she smiles coolly.

“Each gets his jollies in different ways, Benson. And need I remind you again you just had a rubber cock in your mouth for ten minutes or so and I didn’t see you complain.” She held up a hand. “Yes, I know a scientific experiment, actually I think you quite liked it, haha.” He didn’t rise to her bait, no point in it.

“Oh yes,” she reflects, “delectable rubber bondage, nothing like it, there are hundreds of people, thousands who do this. Most do it with a partner checking, staying with them all the time, which I would strongly recommend, but for the really adventurous, well they do it on their own. I don’t suggest that, it’s for the very experienced, but it certainly heightens the tension, and of course the excitement, and that is part of the game, poor Joe.” She finishes her coffee and leans close to him again and he feels his heart take an extra beat.

“Okay, let me play detective, I bet you will find a tiny piece of string, just a tiny thread maybe, on that light fixture, and I bet you didn’t check.”

He sat back, trying to take all this in.

“We probably didn’t check that, but we will now.” He shrugs, smiling ruefully. “Have you ever thought of a different occupation.”

“No, never.” She smiles. “I love this one, really love it, I wouldn’t do it for nothing, but I would for a tenth of my income. You see, all my clients leave happy, they respect me, love me even, in their way, they know they are in good hands, and they can fly to the heavens with me. Much better than being with a psychiatrist, or god forbid, a cheap prossie out of her depth. They don’t have any guilt with me. There’s all kinds of guilt when sex rears its head, vanilla or kinky, and I hate that word by the way.” He ponders this for a while.

“All right, we’ll check the room again, this could still all be hogwash as far as I’m concerned.”

“No it isn’t, you dope, this is my business. I respect the job you do, don’t belittle mine.” She replies contemptuously, angered that maybe all her input is being dismissed, and getting a little fed up with him.

“I thought you would at least think outside the box. You’re supposed to be the star detective, but I’m the expert here and you’d better learn that. I’m sorry about Joe, I really am, and think what his wife feels. She obviously didn’t participate in this stuff, either she didn’t approve or more likely didn’t know about it, but you have to feel for her.” She stood up, and pointed at him. “Now find your man… or woman… and no, it wasn’t me. Thanks for the coffee.” She turns and makes for the door, her tight leather encased buttocks inviting views from all in the café.

Still Only One Suspect

Two days pass and nothing new. The SOCO techs do find the smallest thread of string on the chandelier, and Benson grudgingly thanks Miss Gunn, but not to her face. So now they had a method, perhaps, but no real suspect and no real motive. Except Miss Gunn of course, he kept feeling he was going around in circles, and also kept feeling he was coming back to Miss Gunn, again and again. She really could have done it all right. But if so, why tell him the method? Arrogance?

They interview the two partners again, a hard grilling, but get nowhere. No, they haven’t an alibi, but will soon be taking over the business, is that enough of a motive? And back to Miss Gunn, no, he thinks, she seemed genuinely sad that Kemp was dead, either that or she was a very good actor. Anyway it doesn’t get them anywhere. As he is pondering this Heather Kemp is brought into Benson’s office again, clearly frustrated with the investigation, and he advises her of the status.

“Right now we can’t prove murder, we’re not even sure it was murder, we have only very circumstantial evidence, we don’t have lots of motives for murder here. It seems it may indeed be misadventure, but we haven’t finished quite yet.”

Heather Kemp is furious.

“Do you know what it is like dealing with the gutter press? They love this stuff. This was not suicide, Joe would never do that I think we can agree that. And it wasn’t some weird sex game gone wrong. I don’t believe he would get involved in that kind of stuff.” Benson thinks that is exactly what happened, a game gone wrong, intentionally or by mistake, but he’s not going to tell her that.

“My husband was killed, murdered, set up.” She holds her breath, calms herself. “You know he had an insurance policy, don’t you? The insurers have to have a definitive cause of death. If the coroner declares an open verdict, probably even misadventure, my insurance company will not pay out, or at least they will fight it, until they clean me out. If you continue to carry on like this, I am ruined. Look, my world is destroyed as it is. Do your job, dammit!” And she storms out, and he can’t blame her, but what can he do? He can’t arrest Miss Gunn with the flimsy evidence, and who else is in the frame? No one really. No prints, no cctv, no solid motive, and three, maybe, slim suspects.

The coroner’s verdict comes two days later, and not surprisingly it is an open verdict, which doesn’t even exclude suicide. Benson gives evidence and cannot say definitively how Kemp died, and he’s certainly not going to say that some of his suppositions are based on information from a possible suspect. Mrs. Kemp storms out of the courtroom, followed by a rag-tag army of journalists. They like a tasty sex story to follow. She knows that something will have to change, if she is to get the insurance money without a fight, which she no doubt feels she is entitled to.

A further week passes (much longer than the Super feels reasonable, he has faith in Benson and has given him more days that he feels warranted, and he wants him on other crimes) and the team do all the background checks they can, again and again, nothing. Finally, his Super tells him to call it off, tomorrow. They don’t have the time, resources, or evidence to take this very slim case further. Benson certainly doesn’t need to tell his Super that most of his “evidence” came from what could be termed the only suspect. So, it’s at a standstill, until new evidence comes up, and that’s unlikely. They all feel that way now, and they have other crimes to consider, with much better chances of success. Ruby doesn’t say anything to Benson, but he knows that she and the rest of the team think this is a waste of time now, but somehow Benson doesn’t want to give it up.

That evening Benson is at home, still mulling it over. If it doesn’t point to anyone else, doesn’t it have to be Miss Gunn? Wasn’t that Sherlock Holmes who said that? Eliminate everything else and you’re left with…?

But again, why would she help him with the evidence? Or did she really help him, maybe they would have figured the method anyway. Or maybe after all, it was just a game gone wrong. She was there with him, and somehow she didn’t get it right this time. She doesn’t look like the type to panic, or at least run, but then this wouldn’t have happened to her before. He can’t get the case out of his mind, it will be over tomorrow, but still he has some questions for the dominatrix. He decides to confront her again, one last time, not push her on the murder angle but press her on the unfortunate, horrible accident. It all went wrong, so confess and you’ll maybe get a short, or even a suspended sentence. Maybe in the evening her guard will be down.

Yes, do it now, he thinks. One last chance. He must do it by the book, so he calls Ruby, who is not happy at all to hear that he wants to confront the dominatrix one last time. He makes a deal, if they get no sniff tonight, then he will drop the case tomorrow as per the Super’s orders. Ruby wants to argue that the case will be dropped anyway, but agrees to go. Secretly she rather wants to see this cool beauty again, if only to rattle her chain one last time, she likes a challenge. He will pick her up and go to Miss Gunn’s house.

As he is calling his sergeant, Miss Emily Gunn is coming home with shopping. She has no clients this evening, and is happy for the break. She opens her front door and feels a waft of air behind her, can’t be a client, maybe it’s Benson, he certainly was a cute detective, very handsome, and smart too, an interesting mix of shy and confident. She wonders, not for the first time if he has a girlfriend. No, it would never work with them, their professions would preclude any sideline dalliances.  Pity. She turns around, but sees nothing and enters her home.

Forty minutes later, Sam Benson and Ruby Adams are at the door of Miss Gunn. She still thinks this is a waste of time, but will go along with him, for the last time. He rings, and they wait for two, three minutes, now four. He’s sure she is home, but just playing her game. He buzzes again, another two minutes and then holds down buzzer.

“We’re not going away,” he turns and says to Ruby, “we end it here.”

Finally, she answers, she seems distant, more calm, very cool than angry or confrontational, but says.

“No, no, I will not talk with you. I’ve had it with you, thank you. Just go and get a warrant. Leave, leave me alone, please, leave now. You’re not coming in, period. Go away, please.” She sounds a bit less in control than normal, flustered, a bit angry, and even perhaps a bit imploring and why the “please”? Benson looks at Ruby, who cocks her head, thinking also maybe something is a bit off here. Up to you, she implies. They both think this may be their chance to get her off her calm demeanour.

“I’m not going away, Miss Gunn. I have a few questions. Come on, you have nothing to lose and as you keep telling me, nothing to hide or lose. Just let us in. You give me the information I want, and I will leave. Yes, if necessary I will go and get a warrant, but I will leave my sergeant here, all right? So just open up, we’re not going away.” There is a few seconds silence.

“We can do it here, I don’t want you coming in. Just ask your questions now, here.” Benson looks at Ruby, she shakes her head slightly, no that won’t work, she thinks.

“No, no that’s not enough I’m afraid, we need to see you, now be reasonable and open up.”

“I am being reasonable, dammit. For goodness sake, just leave.” And then there is silence

They wait, wait for fully a minute, the intercom is silent. Eventually she replies, her voice almost dulled.

“All right, wait there; it’s going to be, I’m going to be a few minutes.”

They wait again, at least for ten minutes, they assume she has another client, which they don’t care about, but what the hell is going on? Then, finally, the door opens.

And they stare into the barrel of a .22 pistol.

I Should Have Known

“I cannot believe how stupid you could both be. You just can’t take a hint, can you, you stupid, stupid arrogant people. Get in, both of you, you really should have left when you had the chance, I gave you about twenty minutes there, but you are quite the stubborn one, aren’t you? And you have to bring your sergeant too. Well, welcome to the party. Close the door and then go downstairs, we’ll be a bit cozier down there.”

“I suppose I should have known.” He exchanges looks with Ruby, who is shaking her head and not looking comfortable at all. She may be a homicide cop, but she’s never faced a gun before. They lead down to the basement.

“Yes, maybe you should have known, but you still came here, very stupid of you. And I’m afraid you will pay for it, and so will your sergeant, and it will have to be with your life, I’m sorry but there really is no other choice. You have backed me up to a wall.”

They enter Miss Gunn’s playroom, already getting a blast of rubber-scented air. Then they see a figure, a female figure, a beautiful figure clad in the tightest of burgundy rubber from head to toe. She wears matching leather high heeled knee boots and a matching mask, with just eye and mouth holes, but her mouth is crammed with a large rubber ball and a complicated harness of straps. Around her neck is a rubber-lined steel collar, and from a D ring at the back this is chained to one of two vertical steel poles forming part of the rectangular steel frame they had seen before. She can’t move far and just shakes her head at the detective, her hands pulling ineffectively at the collar.

Of course Benson, both of them really, know that body, how could he not, he’s found it hard not to stare at it every time they have met.

It’s Miss Gunn, and now they turn to face their captor.

Mrs. Heather Kemp, but it’s not the weeping widow he had expected.

“As I said, you really have spoilt the party, you see I was going to take care of it all. I had it all planned. Yes, it was all a bit rushed, but I had quite a good plan I think.” She’s dressed in tight jeans and long sleeved t-shirt, and a hoodie and most important, a pair of thin leather gloves.

“You didn’t have the balls to bring a murder charge on this slut, this whore, did you? So that meant I might lose the insurance, open verdict, they’d never pay out on that. What a joke. So I have to create a suspect, and this whore here is perfect, so that wouldn’t have been too hard, and then dispose of her, and that wouldn’t have been hard either, then I get the money rightfully mine. But then you turn up. Okay, take your clothes off, both of you. I’m going to have to think on my feet here.”

They stare at each other, first hesitating and then Benson nods, not having any idea where this is going. As they do this, Mrs. Kemp continues, now, astonishingly, seemingly relaxed and even quite enjoying her power. This was not the woman who had left the court in tears. She’s had some kind of breakdown, she’s clearly lost it, but she’s still calm and not appearing flustered at all.

“So I was planning on getting this whore here to write a suicide note, wracked with guilt, after being responsible for the death of Joe. So she decides to take her life. You see how this would have worked, she has killed her client - he was blackmailing her etc etc, I knew about the money, by the way - and she has the means of course, the whore. So I had to find a way to get my deserved money and that was to point the blame at this slut, who stole my husband from me - carry on, underpants too, don’t be coy, this whore has seen it all. For you sergeant, you should have stayed at home, rather than come along with your inspector. Bad mistake there, and you’ll pay for it, I’m afraid.” She still keeps the pistol in her hand, she seems quite accustomed to it, pointing it straight at them.

“Even you believed for a good while that she could have done it. Even up to coming here, bad mistake there, I would have left a wonderful suicide scene and note and you’d be on to your next case, the big star policeman. And my husband’s murder and her suicide, with a persuasive note would have worked a treat. But now you arrive and mess it all up, so I will have to improvise.”

They are both now naked and very uncomfortable, not even glancing at each other, which means that Miss Gunn, collar shackled and gagged, gets the best view. She can do nothing but stand and stare, clamping down on her gag, and despite her predicament, she can still take a second to admire Benson’s trim, well-muscled body and well, his rather attractive cock, which he is not covering and which she notes guiltily, is of a very adequate size. Ruby is not in bad shape either, fit, slim waist, nice firm bottom and perky breasts, and now she even notes that Ruby prefers to be shaved down there as well, hhmm that’s interesting.

Mrs. Kemp brings her out of her reverie as she tosses a black rubber full body suit to Benson from the huge selection that Miss Gunn has acquired.

“This looks about right for you, put it on, there’s talcum there, apparently it helps, but I wouldn’t know, she would though.” She sneers pointing to the silent dominatrix. Benson hasn’t said anything, he’s mad at himself, furious, and he’s really madder that he got Ruby into this. He’s also a little embarrassed, naked in front of three women, but more than anything he’s just very angry, as he powders himself and slides into the leggings.  The three women watch in silence as he rather clumsily dresses in the tight suit. But there is no titillation here, as he is doing this he’s thinking desperately how he can extricate himself, all of them from this situation. The rubber is cool and clinging, not unpleasant as he draws it over his thighs and buttocks, and pulls his arms back and into the sleeves. He zips up the front from the waist. There are two holes below, one at the crotch and one opposite his rear, and he gingerly tugs through the opening in the front, his cock and balls. The three women continue to watch in silence. He feels ridiculous now and also very worried, this is a huge mess he’s in, and he shouldn’t have brought along Ruby. What the hell will happen to her now, and it was all his fault; never mind his reputation, he realises that his life is on the line here.

“Yes, very sexy, you have quite a good body, detective, I wonder what the crime scene people will think when they see you like this, with a mask of course, and a nasty gag, and one of those plugs they stick up their bottoms… disgusting, I have no idea how they got off on it. Yes, this is going to be one very strange sex scene for the tabloids to get hold of.”

She is twirling the gun in her hand. She is quite mad now, Benson thinks, but a controlled madness. What made her just lose it? How can someone seemingly sane just completely lose it? She is happy to murder two, no, three other people and some weird murder-suicide thing, just to cover up another murder, and get her hands on £200,000. He looks at her.

“And how do you propose to explain this, you won’t…”

“…get away with this, ha ha. How many times has that been said in bad movies? Well this isn’t a movie, and you know I think I will. I’ve been thinking on my feet here, I’m pretty good at that.”

She tosses a mask to the naked Ruby who is staring at her, venom in her eyes, but she calmly holds onto her gun and tells her to put the mask on Benson, her boss.

The Detectives Are In Serious Trouble

It’s a full head mask, gas mask style, and both notice immediately that it’s the same one that he’d worn in his experiment with Ruby and Miss Gunn earlier, the one with the thick rubber cock inside and the re-breather bag, now that is certainly an odd and very worrying coincidence.

“Let’s think now, let’s see how we can explain this. You came around here to interrogate her again, you’re not sure she did it, possibly not, you don’t know. But here’s the crux, she then panics, remember I have to make it look in her confession like she’s already murdered my husband, so I get the money. And you’re now onto her, well she’s blown it, so she’s going to end her life, but she’ll take you two with her. Yes, it’s a bit sketchy, I know, but I will fill it out on the note I will write here, a sad pathetic suicide note, she killed her client, is then trapped by a soooo smart detective ha ha, and his pretty sidekick.” She cackles, Benson thinks she’s quite mad.

“So the whore here kills them after having them play one last perverted sex game, and she can get this pretty detective girl involved too, this is a whore after all, we all know there’s nothing she won’t do, and then she decides to end it. Hhmm, might work, rather than spend 15 years or 20 years, in the clink for Joe’s murder, she decides to take her life. No, it’s not great, but it might do. Either way, I’m out of the picture. The suicide note will have to be carefully drafted.” She’s moving around the room, the gun still trained on them.

“Oh by the way, the gun is my husband’s and it works very well, we are members of a gun club in town. And I’ve been with him lots of times so I know how to use it. So no clever ideas, all right?”

As she says this, Ruby now pulls the heavy rubber gas mask over Benson’s head.

“Jesus boss, you’d better think up something soon.” She whispers, now less embarrassed with her nudity, or his. As he is about to say something comforting, she pulls down the zip he feels the end of the rubber cock at his lips just as before, and has to open his mouth, and the big rubber phallus slides in, silencing him. Ruby tucks the mask under the collar of the suit, and now only his cock and balls and his defenceless arse are exposed.

“Hhmmmm.” He shakes his head in anger.

“Yes, I think we’ve heard enough from you Chief Inspector, now it’s your turn to take care of your pretty sergeant here. I need her under control too, while I plan your demise.” He’s breathing heavily through his nose, the thick mask grips his head unerringly, he tries to stay calm. What a sight he must be, all in black rubber, with his cock and balls hanging down in front of him.

“And what shall we do with you, sergeant? I think I’ll take care of you later, get rid of these two first, so I need you under control for the next hour or so, and then I’ll deal with you. Let’s see, yes I think this will do nicely.” She is still pointing the gun at them when she inspects the inside of the suspended inflatable rubber body bag.

“I have to hand it to the whore here; all this stuff is quite wonderful for subduing anyone, once in here you’ll never get out, very impressive. I can’t imagine the feeling of being stuck inside one of these, so vulnerable. But you I’m afraid will find out in a couple of minutes. All right, get in here.”

Staring at the gun, Ruby, gingerly steps through the opening in the back of the bag, hanging onto the vertical post for balance. She slides in, almost losing her balance and finds her legs pulled together by the narrow single leg suspended a few inches above the floor. Then she turns sideways and seeks out the internal sleeves, sliding her arms into them, knowing that she is now beyond the point of no return. Mrs. Kemp orders Benson to zip her up from waist to high collar, which he does, moving slowly and peering out of the small lenses in the mask. Benson, under orders, now turns on the air hose attached to her shoulder and the rubber begins to expand, grip, pop and constrict her. Her expression takes on a worrying look as she slowly breathes in and out. Soon she is motionless under the two skins of rubber. The outer skin is much thicker than the inner so in fact the inflatable bag is not that big, but it still grips her brutally. Breathing hard now, the only movement she is capable of is her shaking and rocking her head and the bending of her knees slightly, so she swings slowly from the supporting chains. The only exposed areas are her head, shaved pussy, arse and breasts, encircled by the unforgiving rubber.

Mrs. Kemp runs her hand up and down the rigid bag, chuckling. Then cruelly she grips Ruby’s nipples and pulls them forward, and she gasps as her breasts are now gripped at their bases by the hard rubber.

“You really are in a bit of a pickle, aren’t you sergeant?”

“Ow, ow ow, you are fucking nuts, you know that, you crazy bitch.” Ruby is shaking with rage, but trapped in the two skins of unforgiving rubber and all that is discernible is a faint shivering of the bag and her single leg wriggling. Mrs. Kemp just smiles and goes to the drawers against the wall. Taking her time, and with the gun still pointing at them, she selects a balaclava hood and tosses it to Benson.

“Get that on your loyal sergeant, Chief Inspector. Quickly.”

Benson knows she is now barking mad, in a zone where whatever he could say to her, which is impossible right now with the rubber cock in his mouth, would do no good at all. He knows she is not going back now, she has killed once and is very well prepared to do it again.

Getting Worse And No Escape?

He knows that they are all in deep trouble. He approaches Ruby, mmmmmffs, and shakes his head as if to say sorry, grips the rubber mask and pulls it over her spiky hair and down to her neck. He adjusts the edges, until the upper portion of the open face is level with her eyebrows and the sides diagonally meet below her mouth, forming a smooth triangle around her eyes, nose and mouth. Her head is now enveloped in shiny black rubber, only the small triangle framing her features is visible. She doesn’t make eye contact with Benson but glares at Mrs. Kemp.

“Thank you, Chief Inspector, that takes care of your colleague very nicely. That tight rubber really does imprison her body beautifully. When you see her like that I wonder if you regret not taking her to your bed, ha ha, well too late now.” From inside her drum-tight enclosure Ruby wriggles to no avail, and she yells at her venomously.

“So, you mad cow, you kill one person, your fucking husband, and to cover it up you have to kill another three people, innocent people. You really are a loony bitch.” As she is saying this, Mrs. Kemp remains implacable and returns from the chest of drawers.

“Yes, this should do the trick. You need to be silenced sergeant, I’m getting tired of your voice, and I think this will do just right.”

“You fucking mental….no, no, aaarrgh, aaargh, nnngg, hmmmm, mmmmm.” And now Ruby, after a struggle, rocking her head side to side, squirming in her inescapable rubber bag, having the madwoman grip her rubber-masked head, is silenced, as Mrs. Kemp stuffs a butterfly gag in her protesting mouth and viciously pumps it to the limit, puffing out her cheeks. She playfully slaps her rubber cheek, and twists her nipple harshly.

“That was quite fun. That gag does the trick very well. I have to say that this whore here has some excellent equipment. So that’s enough from you now, sergeant. I do like your pluck, and I shall allow you to have some pleasure before I have to dispose of you. Seems only fair. Oh yes, this slut has some very strange stuff here in her dungeon but it does work perfectly for my purposes all right.” She leans back, calm and collected, against the whipping horse.

All this time, Miss Gunn has watched in silence - as she would, being thoroughly gagged. This is an awful mess. She never heard her come behind her when she returned from shopping, and now here they all are, in the hands of a cool, calculating murderer.

Ruby looks across at Benson, and is furious that she has him involved in this, she should have tried to warn him on the door phone but he didn’t. However even in this desperate moment she can’t help but take an extra few seconds checking out Benson in the tight rubber suit, he certainly has a good frame, and a very good sized cock too. She also looks over to Miss Gunn, she’d seen her in a rubber catsuit before, but this burgundy one is a beauty. Even with a mask and ball gag, she is still quite stunning. But she has to concentrate, try and find a way to overcome this extremely dangerous woman.

“Now that I have you all nice and quiet, then I might as well tell you the whole story, why not? You’ll not be telling anyone anyway. But I have to take care of you first, Chief Inspector. We don’t want you running off, do we?”

The rubber crushing Ruby’s body allows her the tiniest of movements as she is gripped by its unforgiving control, and she has to just concentrate on her steady breathing. She can’t believe it could end like this. What the hell will the SOCO crew think of this when they find them? She prays that Benson can come up with something, or even Miss Gunn, Emily, she remembers, although she doesn’t seem to have much of a chance right now. She is a smart cookie all right, but this seems beyond her too. Heather Kemp, warming to the task, concentrates on Benson. She releases Emily from the chain that holds her collar to the steel frame.

“This frame here I think could do the trick for our Chief Inspector. These cuffs here top and bottom should stretch you out nicely, and you’re the expert at this you slut, get to it.” Emily still has the large rubber ball in her mouth as she approaches Benson. She glares at Heather Kemp but with the full mask on, she doesn’t even notice, or care, she is in her zone. As Emily moves close to Benson, he backs between the steel uprights of the frame. Now Ruby can see that Emily also has a butt plug inserted in her rear, as the curved base is snugly settled between her cheeks. Ruby ponders if this is the first time that the dominatrix has been on the receiving end of the butt-filling device.

Emily closes her eyes and shakes her head, saliva dribbling from her gag, barely believing this is happening. She wants to say to him how sorry she is, to tell him that she tried to help as much as she could, to warn him away, but shaking her head is all she can do. He’s still breathing heavily through his nose, hidden away behind the heavy mask. He raises his hands and Emily locks the soft cuffs around his wrists high above his head, then squats down on her haunches. She’s well aware of his cock, yes, a really good-sized cock, just inches from her head as she cuffs his ankles to the vertical sides. Now the hard bit, the ropes run through pulleys at top and bottom and she attaches the ropes to each other on both sides. Now all she has to do is join the ropes through a single steel figure 8.

“Here, move back, let me do that, it looks like fun.” Mrs. Kemp still has the gun in one hand but easily pulls on the connected ropes, then repeats this on his left side. Benson is quickly stretched out in an X configuration. He mmmmfs in distress, chomping down on the large cock gag, but she continues until he can only move his head. She is very pleased with this arrangement, for she now knows that if he manages to pull in his arms, then his legs will be stretched a similar amount further outwards. Very clever design, and very unpleasant.

“You really are quite a devious woman aren’t you?” She addresses Emily, smiling. “It’s a pity that these nasty contraptions designed to give your clients pleasure, presumably through pain, as I understand it, will be the last things these two will experience. Here, you recognise this of course. Don’t turn the valve down too far, we want him to hear the whole story.” She hands her the re-breather bag and she screws it to the front of Benson’s mask. She sees panic in his eyes as he draws his first breath, it’s now strongly rubber scented, but the valve is kept open, at least for now.

“Now, I expect you want the whole story, and why not, it’s the last thing you will ever learn.” She leans up against the whipping horse again, bitterness on her face.

“My husband, haha, yes, well I gave him everything, except a child of course, and that’s where it went wrong I think. We sort of drifted I suppose, but then he drifted a lot more than me, didn’t he? I suspected he was seeing someone, all those evenings at the office and so forth. So I followed him a couple of nights, and found him visiting this slut, whore, to get his sick jollies. And I thought it was just sex, not all this weird stuff she gets into.” She sneers with contempt as she looks around Miss Gunn’s place of business.

“After a while he would not come here but go to a hotel, and so I followed him to that hotel a couple of times, I didn’t see you there, but I figured you were with him somehow, maybe waiting for him in the room, all prepared with your rubber gear for your sick games. So I followed him there the last time, he went to his room, his usual room and I waited in the stairwell, next to his room, then as he left to get a drink at the bar I sneaked into his room before the door closed automatically, and hid in the closet. Very lax of him, and incredibly easy for me. Simple.”

She laughs at the remembrance.

“I was going to confront him, well both of you, as I assumed you would arrive later, and shame you, embarrass you. Then he comes back and starts to dress in all this stuff. Ha ha, I have to admit it is very good for keeping people under control, and he did look very good in it. But I don’t get all the sex in rubber stuff, sorry, don’t get it. My husband did though evidently, with or without this whore here. And as I saw him set up the timer in the room, very clever that candle and string thing. And I saw him plug his arse with that rubber plug, that was pretty strange, and then I saw him clamp that suction thing over his cock, then, well,” she takes a breath, “I knew it was over for us. I saw red, I really did.” She shakes her head. “He didn’t deserve me, he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near me. I still waited for you to turn up, waited, and then I finally realised you weren’t coming, he was getting his jollies without you, but much more importantly, without me.”

She was staring ahead as if unaware of the others in the room now.

“And I hated him, never wanted to see him again, never wanted to be near him, a fury came over me. He wanted to auto-asphyxiate, get his kicks through oxygen deprivation, well okay, then I was going to give him his last request. I didn’t feel a thing when I closed down that weird bag connected to his mask, and watch him suffocate slowly, not a thing. He was just a rubber mannequin to me then. He seemed to struggle very little, of course he’d done a good job putting himself into serious bondage, and he just sort of drifted off. I think he was probably getting off on it, nearly to the end. After a while, I cleaned up after he’d… I took away the candle, the string, left the key by him. Thought it looked pretty convincing. Yes, I don’t think anyone would have believed suicide, I understand that, and I wouldn’t have got the money anyway, but on the way home I realised that misadventure or open verdict wouldn’t work either.” She smiles ruefully now, as she realises that her plan hasn’t quite worked.

“In order to get the insurance, my insurance, the money I deserved, someone had to convince you lot and the coroner, that he was murdered. But not by me, of course, ha ha. Yes, and I knew that would be hard. I thought once you started looking into his background with this slut, she would come forward as the only real suspect. But the problem was you didn’t take the bait.”

Ruby yells – mmmmfffs - into her gag, unintelligibly, and Mrs. Kemp chortles, simply ignoring her.

“So then I decided that you needed some help, so I planned to get this whore here to type up a sorry, sad letter of guilt, and then make her death look like a suicide, bingo, I get the insurance and it’s all tidied up. So I knew where she lived, I had followed her from the station that day when you had her in for questioning. I watched you two in the coffee shop, haha, you were quite the couple, so touching, almost lovie-dovie. I think he has a bit of a soft spot for you, whore, way too late though, too bad.” She laughs cruelly.

Emily looks pityingly over to Benson, but can discern no reaction behind his oppressive mask. Then Mrs. Kemp approaches his stretched-out figure, and grips his cock, and he moans through his gag.

“But then you had to turn up, Chief Inspector, what are the chances of that? The same evening? Just terrible timing. It must be karma, bad karma, maybe for both of you, your time was up anyway, hhm? Well it is, and it’s your own bloody fault.”

She steps back.

“And you know, the really bizarre thing is, I’m quite enjoying all this. I really am. Haha, the rubber, the gags, the masks, this whole thing of inescapable bondage, I thought it was so sick, what Joe was doing, but… it’s a lot of fun, for me that is, being in complete control, maybe not for you.” She runs a hand down the rigid inflated rubber encasing Ruby, and stares across at Emily Gunn.

“Yes, this rubber does enhance the body, even yours, you slut. The £200,000 is a nice amount to get me going again, and I really can’t give that up, I’m sorry, and what the hell, I’m going to be put away for a long time for one murder, so what is a couple more, even three, ha ha. But why not have just a bit of fun with you all before we get to the inevitable. I’m not completely callous, instead of a last meal, you can get some mutual pleasure, why not? You may actually get a kick out of it too.”

Benson peers out through the lenses of his gas mask, starting to ache in arms and legs and unable to do anything to stop this deranged woman. He clamps down on his cock gag, sucks in rubber perfumed air through his nose. He can do nothing, Ruby, poor Ruby is powerless, and how can Miss Gunn, Emily, do anything to get them out of this?

One Last Request?

Certainly, Heather Kemp is really getting into this, she is now completely engrossed. From the drawer, she selects a pair of nipple clamps and butt plug. These are for Ruby. She hands them to the gagged Emily.

“Miss Gunn, you’re the expert at these of course. Get to it.” Emily comes close to Ruby, shaking her head as their eyes meet. They are both thoroughly gagged, Emily with the large rubber ball and Ruby with the inflatable butterfly, and can only communicate through their eyes. She places one clamp over Ruby’s right nipple and as it closes and bites, she snorts and groans. This is repeated with the second and Emily can see Ruby clench her eyes, mmmfffing. Now Heather Kemp passes a large butt plug to Emily.

“You know where that goes, get to it.” Emily moves behind her and applies some lube to the hard plastic butt plug. As Ruby’s legs are clamped together by the tight single leg of the bag, her virgin arse (at least Emily assumes it is virgin) is well hidden by her cheeks. This will be hard, but that will not deter the madwoman’s intentions.

“Go on, prise open those cheeks, pull them apart, and stuff it right in. Get on with it.” The hole in the rear of the tightly inflated bag is about two inches in diameter and Emily presses the smooth end of the butt plug through it and between her clenched buttocks.

Emily now knows what this feels like from the other perspective, so to speak, for it was indeed the very first time she’s been anally penetrated, by Mrs. Kemp, only a half an hour ago. She had shown no mercy, or care, she’d used very little lube, and it had been quite unpleasant as she pushed it unrelentingly into her rear. But now, a good half hour later, she is strangely getting used to its presence. It really wasn’t feeling too intrusive now, thanks to the narrow neck of the plug. She wouldn’t say she was enjoying it, but at least tolerating it. She stops as Ruby flinches and squirms in her bag. She’s done this before, many times, but always with willing, although sometimes nervous, participants. This is very different, and even if Ruby is not an anal virgin, she knows this won’t be fun for her.

She turns the plug on its axis and presses further; she can see Ruby is wincing and trying to clench her cheeks tight but there is no hope of that succeeding. Under Mrs. Kemp’s eager observation, Emily presses further and she knows she has now breached her entrance as Ruby whines and continues to swing her imprisoned legs, her only real movement possible.

Benson watches in horror as Ruby whimpers, while Emily pushes further and Ruby’s rear is stretched wider. Emily takes as long as she can, allowing her to adjust, to accommodate this invasion. There is only the small triangle around Ruby’s eyes and nose uncovered by rubber, but Benson can see the discomfort on her face, alarm in her eyes. Finally, there’s almost a look of relief when the plug plops into her rear and her tight virgin sphincter grips its narrow base.

“Hhmm, that looks nice and snug, all right, Miss Gunn, now I’ll allow you to play with your prey here, come on, take that ball out of your mouth and see if you can satisfy the sergeant here. Why not, you might experience some pleasure before your rather unpleasant end.”

Emily stares at the woman in shock, as she removes the large ball from her mouth. She wants her to satisfy Ruby? This is getting too weird.

“Come on, on your knees, you whore and do your business. I want to see just how good you are at this, after all you are a cheap whore.”

Emily cannot believe this, a nightmare getting worse by the minute, and she kneels in front of the suspended woman, her pussy exposed within a three-inch diameter opening in the inflated suit.

This is something she has done before, of course. But that was a while ago, in her university days. She experimented with women and found it very enjoyable, and enjoyed sex with men as well. But by the end of her masters’ she decided what she wanted to be, what she is now, a dominatrix. This does not leave a lot of time for romance, or sex with partners, of either sex for that matter. And she is a very good dom, and therefore very busy. So her sex life is, well, not that active. She regrets this sometimes but gets great satisfaction pleasing her clients, and having a boyfriend, or girlfriend (for she does like the ladies as well) would be quite difficult, and what would they think of her profession? Yes, it is better, for now anyway, being single, she thinks.

She doesn’t have sex with her clients. She is a dominatrix, she is the top, the mistress, and she doesn’t go down on other women. She has had a woman, a client, actually more than one woman go down on her before, and therefore knows how she can be satisfied. But a shortage of time and her profession, which she loves, do not allow for extensive relationships, with a woman or man. In the past she’s had a man, a boyfriend, go down on her, and she’s found it very pleasant, if done by the right person. But let’s be clear, I have to be in the mood for it.  Now she appreciates she has to apply similar skills to Ruby, for she has no choice.

Emily begins to play with her, rubs her labia, strokes her clit, rubs it, fingers her. Ruby tries to fight, wriggling in her bag, groaning through her butterfly gag to fight it, shaking and rocking, grunting. Why fight it? Emily thinks. Why not at least get some pleasure in your short life? And mine, I suppose. Then Heather Kemp places her hand on the back of Emily’s masked head and presses it towards the glistening prize that is Ruby’s succulent pussy.

Again, she has done this, but does not consider herself particularly proficient, but with the pressure on the back of her head her lips and nose are soon clamped on Ruby’s tender, and she has noticed, moist lips. There is a faint sweetness to her, not unpleasant at all, and the skin is smooth and tender and pink. Maybe this will be all right, she thinks, and she finds that she has already placed her hands on the sides of the inflated bag to still her “partner”. She can hear her moan above her as she slips her tongue between her soft labia. She feels Ruby shiver, but holds the rubber bag close to her, burying her face in the small oval of the inflated rubber surrounding her target. She nuzzles up to the moist beauty, and despite her dire position, her life seemingly in jeopardy, she concentrates on the matter in hand, to give Ruby some pleasure, and perhaps some for herself.

She is just a little surprised to find that she doesn’t find it unpleasant at all. It has been a few years since she went down on that one girlfriend at university. She is soft and luscious, and Ruby, whether she wants to or not, starts to respond to her. She can now feel her become wet, soon very wet, her tender flesh engorged. Benson stares out of his gas mask at the bizarre scene as Ruby begins to moan, grunt and shake, rocking her head sideways, her eyes closed now, the tube and inflator swinging from her stuffed mouth. Emily continues, Heather Kemp no longer needs to press her face to Ruby’s pussy. And after a few minutes Ruby comes, grunting and mmmffing, her bag swinging violently from its chains. Emily steps back, Ruby’s sweet juices on her tongue, over her lips and on the rubber mask around her mouth. After shaking for a few seconds, Ruby closes her eyes, seemingly tranquil, breathing through her nose, saliva dripping from her gagged mouth. Mrs. Kemp smiles heartlessly, and says.

“Hhmm, very impressive, you really are a serious whore, Miss Gunn, quite the expert in satisfying a woman. Well I hope the sergeant appreciated it, for it will be her last, and yours.” She turns and looks over at Benson, who had been transfixed at the Ruby/Emily tableau.

“And now it’s the Chief Inspector’s turn.” She hands Emily another butt plug, and Benson sees this and groans into his gag. Emily licks her lips, still tasting Ruby, then shakes her head as she passes his stretched-out body and lubes the plug. This is bigger than Ruby’s but will be easier to insert, as Benson is stretched wide and his arse is an easily accessible target.

“Sorry Benson, I’m really sorry about this,” she whispers as she passes behind him, and then squats. Heather Kemp chuckles at her discomfort, and shortly his as Emily places the plug between his cheeks, and sees him flinch. She has seen this view up close many times, and done this procedure many times, and knows to press firmly, and not stab, which she does. She forces it into him, inch by inch as he grunts loudly and rocks his head. When it is at its widest he believes he can’t take any more, and then it is with relief, yes, relief, that it suddenly settles inside him, his tight sphincter gripping the curved base, as she aligns it vertically with his anal crack, and he continues to moan softly.

Now with a smile, Heather demands.

“All right, you certainly were efficient there, now come around, kneel here and suck the chief Inspector off. Don’t say I don’t have a soft heart.” She laughs cruelly. Again, Emily realises that she has no alternative, and understands that perhaps she can get some pleasure from this, given her dire circumstances, and give poor Benson some release. Why not? If she’s going to die at the hands of this madwoman, why not get some pleasure before? She leans forward and sees his flaccid cock. She’s seen a lot of cocks, mostly her clients, a few boyfriends, but this is the largest, certainly. She has never been an advocate of the “it’s all about size” belief, but she will be finding out at least one angle on that position. He’s not porn film size, but certainly a very good size, certainly a good mouthful. She leans forward and the cock begins to rise of its own volition. What is going through Benson’s mind? If he is turned on by her, well she’s flattered, but under these circumstances?

Amazingly it continues to harden. It is now parallel and still hardening, as if in anticipation. She opens her mouth, the softer purple head is large all right and she licks the underside, then slides her mouth around it. It is warm and well muscled and tastes of nothing in particular. She now locks her lips over his helmet. She reflects again that he has a nice warm, meaty, well-proportioned cock, and he, as a person, is really rather cute. Under other circumstances, well, she’d be rather enjoying herself.

Benson groans and grunts to take his mind off his predicament. She has a moist soft mouth, he can feel her tongue circle his head, then slowly move down his shaft. Mrs. Kemp appears to want to move this on, and now with a firm hand on the back of her head forces her down to his root. She just manages to take a gulp of air through her nose. He’s not fully hard yet, and with that malleability his cock is able to slide to the back of her throat, and then curve down it. Jesus! She gags and snorts, suffocating on his cock, for she is now incapable of breathing. The hand is held there for a few more seconds, Emily is squirming in distress, her hands on Benson’s thighs, trying to push herself away and gain some oxygen. Finally the hand is removed from the back of her head and she withdraws a couple of inches as sucks in air to resume her assignment, continuing to move her mouth up and down his long, thick shaft, now hard. She takes his balls in her hand and rolls them, then making an O with forefinger and thumb she encircles the base of his ball sac and grips him hard, pulling down. Oh, she thinks, if only I had my ball stretcher now. He is groaning now, she hopes in pleasure, for there is very little of that available at present. She doesn’t consider herself an expert in cock-sucking; she’s done it a few times, only with men she thought, at the time at least, she liked. She doesn’t give out this gift willy-nilly.

But she seems to have got Benson’s attention, and is content that he’s at least getting some pleasure despite their ominous circumstances. She is getting the hang of it now, moving up and down the shaft, which is now rock hard and squeezing and playing with his balls. There’s a real meatiness to his cock, warm and rock solid, she likes that. She moves her hands to the back of his thighs, stroking them and then moves to his buttocks, contoured and muscled too. He must be a bit of a jock, she thinks in passing. He has a musky, male smell, not unpleasant, and this is helped with the aroma of the warm rubber suit he wears, and she has to admit, looks pretty good in. Her mind wanders a little, she doesn’t want this to end, if she is enjoying herself - and she is - she wants to prolong it as much as she can, maybe she - all of them - can think of some sort of escape strategy, but it doesn’t look good right now.

But this doesn’t last long, for she feels him coming, as he mmmffs into the cock inside his mask, and she withdraws a couple of inches anticipating the stream of hot semen. And it does come, in a spurting rush that splashes the back of her throat. She swallows his hot seed once, twice, and then amazingly a third time. And he even seems to come again. No, she doesn’t do this a lot, she is married to her job, she does not see many men, and she certainly doesn’t suck many men off, but on reflection she has to admit that, despite her predicament, she had actually liked looking after Benson’s big member. In accordance with the unwritten rules, she licks him dry, which again she likes doing. Her throat is a little tender, but that is the least of her worries right now.

She’s aware that Ruby is watching them silently, as is Mrs. Kemp, and she realises she is a little embarrassed, but to compare this moment to their possible upcoming slow death, why should this matter at all? She has done this before only a few times, she recalls, taking a cock fully down to the root, and she ponders that she regrets this. She would have liked to take it further with Benson, she’s interested in this man, and not just because of his very fine cock.

She feels sorry for Benson, Ruby and herself, this could have ended differently. But now she has to concentrate on the matter in hand, how to deal with a madwoman who wants to kill them all.

The End?

“Well you really are quite the bi-sexual whore aren’t you? I wonder what you prefer, a big cock, or moist pussy, hhmm. Doesn’t matter anyway, come on.” Emma is now led by Heather Kemp to the second rectangular steel frame, and told to stand on a short stool she has placed there between the uprights, then the rubber lined steel collar is locked around her neck again and a short chain is looped over the horizontal section and doubled up to connect to the collar by the two self closing D rings at each end. She knows where this is going, and will have to think fast. The crazy bitch pulls her hands behind her back and cuffs them together with a pair of her own steel hand cuffs. She’s now very fearful, and she has to keep her balance. She feels the end is coming fast until she, or anyone else, can do something. And how can Ruby and Benson help now?  Things don’t look too good at all.

Now the madwoman moves to Benson.

“I’m an expert at this, Chief Inspector, having seen my husband take care of himself, and well, then I took care of him.” She chuckles. “Okay, the time is getting on now. I think we’re ready. Miss Gunn has certainly given you a wonderful sending-off present. So goodbye Chief Inspector, remember it is all your fault, you really should not have come in, and even worse, bring your sergeant with you. I’m afraid that won’t look good on your record, your posthumous record, that is. But you won’t be around to hear all about that.”

She plays with the re-breather bag to his gas mask for a few seconds, staring at him through the lenses of the mask, as he shakes his head and hhhmmms. Then she turns down the valve. He grunts, snorts, and shakes his head in panic, he was able to take one deep breath but realises quickly that his oxygen is fast running out. She studies him as he begins to lose oxygen, the re-breather bag now barely inflating and deflating at all, and within a few seconds he is struggling, stars are already passing in front of his eyes, is this the way it will end?

As Emily, looking stunning in her burgundy rubber catsuit and mask as if they were painted on, concentrates on her balance she realises she has to do something, anything, as Mrs. Kemp places the gun on the whipping horse and approaches her. She knows she has one last chance but she will have to wait for the right moment.

“Well, time’s up Miss Gunn, I have to collect some insurance money and you’re in my way. So you can both watch each other experience a rather unpleasant death. I don’t think there’s very much auto-erotic in this asphyxiation in this rather sad scenario.” She sneers contemptuously, and without preamble she kicks the stool from under Emily, and turns away to face Benson. Is this how it is going to end, Emily thinks as the steel collar begins to throttle her. It will strangle her slowly, no quick snap of the neck here for she dropped barely a couple of inches.

Well, at least Benson and Ruby have had just the smallest amount of pleasure. And so have I, reflects Emily. I am staring death in the face and thinking about giving the two people you will see last on earth oral satisfaction. But it ain’t over yet, no, not at all. Once last chance, she thinks, don’t fuck up now, girl.

Benson’s sight is becoming blurred as he gulps for air, and finds none. Through his small eye holes in the gas mask he sees the stunning Emily dangling, her feet swinging, her body jerking, her rams cuffed behind her back. And then, and then… he sees something his befuddled brain cannot comprehend, no that can’t be, he sees her hands behind her back become free! How the hell…

Emily’s right hand rises up and grips the horizontal bar taking all the pressure off her throat, and the other, with the cuffs attached, grips the rear of the collar. He can’t believe how strong she is, supporting herself with one hand. Mrs. Kemp hears the jangling of the chains and turns to face Emily who, swinging with the one hand gripping the bar, whips her legs around the neck of the madwoman standing in shock in front of her. She clamps the woman’s neck between her rubber thighs as she crosses her ankles and squeezes as hard as she can. Then using her as support she releases the chain from her collar.

It’s obvious she knows how these cuffs are put together, and come apart, but he didn’t see a key, so how…..

Benson is now losing consciousness as he hears Ruby hhhmm through her butterfly gag as the two women crash to the floor, Emily on top. Ruby now watches as Heather Kemp struggles and struggles, her legs whipping from side to side, her hands gripping Emily’s thighs, trying to prise apart the smooth rubber covered legs constricting her neck, she’s losing air as well, and Emily has her ankles crossed and clenches her thighs even tighter.

It’s all very Emma Peel, but this is for real, and all the more astonishing. She’s beautiful all right, Ruby notes, fuller in the bust region and more muscled than Diana Rigg, and the rubber instead of the leather, is definitely an improvement, and she is seriously fit. But this is a fight that must be won, and quickly before they are all doomed. Benson now seems to have lost consciousness, Ruby sees his head slump. Ruby hhhmms as loud as she can and as Emily looks up, still wrestling with the woman, sees Ruby nod towards Benson. She sees him and grimaces, nodding. Emily won’t let go despite her combatant jerking and thrashing about, whipping her legs back and forth, grabbing her slippery rubber thighs to try and prise them apart.

Ruby watches, screaming through her gag, kill her, kill her, she screams, she looks across and sees Benson now motionless, no movement from the re-breather bag, nothing. Hurry up, for god’s sake. The crazy woman’s head is still locked between Emily’s thighs, just a few inches from her crotch, her chin locked over a thigh, her face going red as she makes choking sounds. Then Emily raises her thighs, draws them to her, lifting the woman up, clenches her fist and with a half-cock punch, and with all her power and all her shoulder strength, punches her on her chin, once, twice, three times. This is brutal, she doesn’t hold back, and Heather Kemp goes limp, as blood pours from her broken nose.

story continued in part 3


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