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Date: Sun, 16 Jul 2023 10:39:11 -0700
From: Hey All <heyallstories@gmail.com>
Subject: Young Detective Harem (bisexual, authoritarian)

"Young Detective Harem" by HeyAll

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~~~~~ Montana State Police ~~~~~


June 25th, 1998 -- 5:23 pm


It's an hour's drive, past the lakes and scenic mountain views, through
the hiking trails, until I arrive at the luxury hotel in the quiet,
open-spaced community.  It's my third time visiting and I can see why
it's become a tourist destination for people around the country.


The hotel, with its rapid economic growth, represents a shining example
of progress, where all the amenities are modern, the design is superb,
and I'm greeted warmly by the front desk staff before making my way to
the elevator and head to the eighth floor.


I knock on the door, and when it opens, Selina is standing there in
matching red undergarments, fresh from a shower.  Her hair is dried and
her makeup has already been applied.  She doesn't show any emotion to my
unannounced visit, nor does she bother covering herself.


She lets me inside and I look around the room.  Everything is neat --
mostly.  Strings were pulled and we shook down an informant to get Selina
a temporary job as a hostess here.  Business is booming and women like
Selina are in demand for the service industry.


"What are you doing here?" she asks, closing the door.


"I haven't heard from you in three days.  I was worried."


"Fair enough, I'm actually glad you're here.  Sit down.  Let me show
you something before I have to work."


I sit at the small table and Selina goes to a hidden compartment in the
closet, bringing out a satchel for me.  She opens the bag and spreads the
contents across the table; a camera, recorders, and a notebook.  Low tech
equipment.


"Anything successful?" I ask.


"Take a look at the pictures in the camera.  As for the recorder, I
haven't been able to use it yet.  Especially with the outfits I'm
wearing."


As my attention turns to the camera, I realize that Selina's panties are
sheer and I catch a glimpse of her labia.  She's sitting on the bed with
documents, perhaps trying to entice me, to show that she has sacrificed
everything for this job, including her pride.  I suppose she's
accustomed to using her body as a tool.  I feel some regret over this,
but she's old enough to make her own decisions.


I try not to look at her, only take a glance.  She has the body of an
athlete; feminine yet strong.  Perfect for a hostess that caters to a
demanding clientele with high expectations of women.


Flipping through the digital camera, I see pictures that were taken from
the window of this room.  I see people who come in and out of the private
lounge of this hotel.  A billionaire mogul named Henrick has essentially
taken over this community, having the sheriff, top deputies, and city
officials on his payroll.


Henrick can do whatever he wants.  This includes hosting orgies with an
impressive amount of women for himself and business associates.  We only
care because his former bodyguard came to us with allegations of murder
plots and women being abused.


"Notice anything interesting?" she asks.


Her humor is part of the reason we get along so well.  She's talking
about her tits as she lays in a provocative pose, or maybe she's talking
about the pictures?


Unfortunately, I'm not here to entertain her puns.  I reach into my
pocket and drop a bomb that could effectively end her career.  Sadly.  I
have an envelope for her.  I put it on the table.


"You've done good work," I say, pushing the envelope in her
direction.  "But I'm pulling you from this assignment.  These photos
were taken by a different surveillance team yesterday."

Selina keeps a stone face as she takes the envelope and opens it.  She
looks at the pictures.  There are pictures of her flirting with different
men in suits while in the parking lot.  The most damning photos show
Selina entering a car with a man and having a makeout session.  Her hand
drifts below, clearly a handjob.


Instead of protesting or denying it, Selina remains quiet for a moment,
which is a subtle admission that she performed a sex act.


"Who else knows about this?" she asks.


"Me and the photographer.  You're off the assignment.  As a notice,
your indiscretions will be included in the final report."


"Give me a few more days to finish the job.  I'm close to breaking this
whole thing wide open."

"That's news to me because you cut contact a while ago.  And you're
already compromised.  Your findings and statements may be inadmissible in
court."

"Can I explain myself?" she asks.


"I'll give you that respect."


"The people who run this place really like me," she says.  "That
includes Henrick and the managers of this establishment.  Apparently I do
all the right things and I have the right look.  I've been told my
`street smarts' and big city vibes are incredibly sexy.  Of course,
they'd kill me in a second if they knew I'm a cop."

"Do these people seem like killers to you?"

"Yes."

"Explain."

"Nothing concrete, but some of the guys who work security are
ex-military.  A few nights ago I saw them cornering a man in an alley,
the man never came out.  I've heard of a girl going missing and her
family came looking for her.  I don't have all the evidence yet, but
these incidents raise serious red flags. I can't let it go."

"That doesn't explain why you've gone radio silent these last few
days."

"You're right.  But you've never gone deep cover like this before."

"How close are you?" I ask.


"I'm working a lead.  Girl who works in the lounge.  We serve drinks
together."

"Tell me about this girl."


"She's been working here a long time.  She's the one who trained me
for my job.  She has a lot of experience and she's a favorite of
Henrick, which is a good thing.  I get the sense that she's sick of
working for abusive men and wants to burn this whole place down.  Trust
me, she knows a lot of incriminating information."

"Can you flip her?"

"In a few more days."

"How can you be so sure?"

"She passes out after I make her cum.  While she sleeps in my bed, I've
been updating my files.  So you have to forgive me if I haven't been
calling you everyday.  I've been a little busy."


I wish she'd started with that as her explanation for not calling me.
I'm tempted to apologize to Selina but she understands.  Our
relationship has always been rocky and she's always acknowledged that
she's difficult to work with, but her bending the rules seems to be
beneficial this time.


"Alright, a few more days."

"Do you want regular updates?" she asks.


"That depends.  Do I want to hear any of this?"

"Probably not."

"That might be for the best.  The department is under pressure to shut
Henrick's operation down.  It's giving the state a bad name.  We can't
jeopardize anything."


"Understood."


It's time for me to leave because Selina's shift starts soon.  I excuse
myself and head to the door.  She doesn't say anything.  Instead she
stands and gets dressed, wearing a vibrant red skirt that wraps around
her hips, and a white buttoned sleeveless top which makes her look pure.
She's like this deadly combination of innocence and seduction.  I can
see why her cover is so effective.


~~~~~The Madame ~~~~~


June 26th, 1998 -- 10:32 pm


There's a certain aroma that comes from the exclusive areas of this
hotel.  A particular scent.  It's the combination of cologne mixed with
perfume and a sense of debauchery.


The men are impressed with tonight's line-up of women.  These ladies are
well-trained in making powerful men feel like powerful men.  I've
trained them myself.  The exotic women from Eastern Europe and Asia seem
to be getting most of the attention, which is a good thing because they
were harder to acquire and break.  I have their passports and control
their bank accounts, so they know who's in charge.


Being a Madame is a harder job than most people think.  It has all the
typical headaches of an office manager, plus we sometimes deal with
dangerous people and illegal activities, and if something goes wrong we
can't go to the police or courts.  In my case, the boss makes sure
nothing violent happens around here, so that's a plus.  Dealing with
difficult ladies, that's my responsibility.


I go back to my office to run some errands before returning to the main
floor.  My office is chic, stylish, like something you'd see in a movie
where the main character is an executive for a fashion agency.  It's an
appropriate comparison since the fashion industry also deals with whores.


There's a note on my desk.  I read it:


~~~


Watch out for the new girl SELINA in the bar & drinks area.  At first she
was cool, but something's off about her.  I saw two high-rollers offer
to take her around town.  She declined.  No one declines.  She looks
around a lot, asks lots of questions, seems nosy.  Sometimes nice,
sometimes a closed off bitch.


I love my job here, don't want her fucking it up, whatever she's doing.


~~~


Who needs spies when I have jealous girls worried about their
competition?  Thanks to them, I have eyes and ears everywhere.  These
kinds of anonymous letters are a mixed bag.  Envy is often a factor.
Girls will sometimes snitch on prettier girls, the girls who suck better
cock, who know how to talk to men and draw more money.


But other times there are legit reasons for reporting the other women,
like if they're stealing or working a side hustle.  Those are legitimate
reasons to make anonymous reports and I train my women to look for these
things.  I've been dealing with catty women for two decades and I've
seen it all.


I think about Selina, the `new girl' referenced in this secret note.
She's a real beauty.  Young.  Fit.  With a dangerous edge to her. She
got this job through a reference because we needed women who could
competently handle the bar area.  Many of the women here are immigrants
who lack real world job skills outside of mouth and pussy.  Her
employment here is very unofficial and she's paid cash.  We only know
her first name, that's all we ask.  We rely totally on references.


A cop?  An informant?  Hardly.  I can smell a cop a mile away.  They have
a distinct look, a certain straight-lace about them.  Even the crooked
cops have a by-the-book vibe to them.  Besides, we have our own
informants inside key departments within the state.  We hadn't heard
anything about an investigation.


My best guess is that Selina has a friend or relative who used to work
here, someone jaded, and maybe that person ran away.  And now Selina is
playing the role of bootleg investigator to find out `the truth.'
It's happened before where sisters or boyfriends have come looking for
someone.  I always give the truth, that this person either fucked off or
was fired.  I say it politely, of course.  And then they leave.  One look
at security and they know vigilante shit doesn't work here.  This isn't
the movies.  This is the harsh reality of the sex industry.  People get
hurt.


The more I think about Selina, the more I grow suspicious.  The note
makes good points about her cunningly designed behavior.  How could my
instincts have been so wrong?  How could I have missed the signs?  I
might be slipping now that I'm getting older.


Like I mentioned, we don't ask for social security or government
documents here.  The nature of our work is different.  We hire based on
reference, from trusted sources.  Most of these women are sex workers and
we treat them accordingly.  I only know her by her stage name.
"Selina."  The only insurance I have that women are legit is that
giving us bad references can result in being killed.


I toss the note in the garbage so Henrick doesn't see it.  I'll have to
handle this alone.  If my boss knew of a security breach, my reputation
would take a hit.   So I handle minor tasks in the office and then look
myself in the mirror.  I'm pleased by what I see in the reflection,
someone stylish, but with teeth that bite.  The best of both worlds.


The atmosphere in this exclusive area of the hotel is electric, but in a
low-key kind of way.  It almost has a nightclub feel, even in the heart
of a hotel.  The walls are decked with vibrant colors and designs. The
music is light and everyone is having a good time. The drinks are
sophisticated and we serve modern cuisine.


But the vibes are different in the backroom lounge, which only have
curtains for privacy.  That's where women go to earn their big tips and
where the men in suits get their service.  Lots of business deals are
closed in there, in between women getting on their knees to provide
quality customer service.


I survey the main area and make sure everything is running smoothly.
Then I watch Selina from a distance.  My first thought when looking at
Selina is that she's a legit working girl -- and I don't mean as a sex
worker.  She's serving drinks and her hands and feet are strong.    She
doesn't get tired.  She works fast and with energy.  I can see why she
gets so many tips.


Reading people is my job and some women are harder to read than others.
Selina, she's an enigma, and I don't like that.  I'm second guessing
my initial judgment of her, but not enough to fire her, or do very bad
things.  We can't afford to lose good servers because now is our busy
season.


I approach Selina when she has a moment of free time.  God she's
beautiful.  In another life she could be an actress, but instead she's
working here for me.


A minor red flag is that she doesn't cower while I'm standing close to
her.  She doesn't fear me.  Most women do.  Especially with the look I
have on my face.  I ask how she's doing, how business is going and how
much tips she's earned tonight.  Her smile gives me the answer before
she can tell me the number.


I invite her for a drink in the lounge area and she accepts.  She's not
sure what to expect, but she keeps smiling and puts on her game face.
It's the same face she uses with flirtatious male customers, but she's
on her toes more.  She knows who she's dealing with.  She's known since
the day we met.


When we reach the private area, we remain standing, and I stroke her
shoulder.


"We've never had a personal conversation," I say.  "That's my
fault.  We've been so busy around here lately."

"I serve drinks for tips.  You manage the place.  What can be simpler
than that?"

"That's true, but still, I like keeping tabs on my girls."

She flashes a pretty smile.  "What would you like to know?"

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"You know, life is full of unexpected twists and turns. We all have our
reasons for ending up where we are. In my case, let's just say I've had
my fair share of interesting experiences."


"But why here?  A luxury hotel in Montana with guests expecting
you-know-what."


"Abusive father.  Absent mother.  I was a runaway and I learned how to
survive.  I think that's the answer you're looking for."

"So you're one of those types.  Most are."


"I guess so."

"Yet you fit right in."

"I grew up in a small town, spent a lot of time around bars and men.
I've heard the money is great here, so when I was offered a chance to
work a gig, I had to see what it was about."

"You serve a great drink," I say.


"Thank you."

"But do you suck a great cock?"

"So I've been told."

"With any of the guests here?"

"No."


"Why not?  I noticed you keep to yourself and turn down offers.  With
lips like yours, and that body, you could be making some serious cash."

"I respect the women who do that, but that's not my thing.  I like
saving myself for special people."

"Are you a religious freak?"

"Partly," she says.  "Something I got from my dad, ironically
enough."

"Ah, now it's making sense.  You know, with a story like yours, you
could make even more money.  You have many desirable traits."


She laughs.  "The men here don't have enough money for that."

"A church girl in a house of sin.  You've never turned tricks in your
life?"

"Never as an adult.  I'm just here to make money flirting with guys and
serving drinks.  I hope that's okay, I feel I'm doing a good job
working here."


I read her body language, the look in her eyes -- the woman has an iron
confidence, an air of quiet strength -- but she's telling the truth.
She's never turned tricks before.  But still, there's something about
her that piques my curiosity.  Selina could be a massive hit with our
clients.  She has all the right attributes.


As for the claim that there's something suspicious about her, that still
lingers in my mind.  It's hard to put my finger on what bothers me.  I
don't like that.  She's too feminine to be a cop.  Too gentile to be
someone looking for revenge.  But I'm not convinced she's fully telling
the truth, either.  I think there's something more to her.


"Come with me," I say.  "Let me show you something."


We head to the more intimate part of the lounge, the part where the real
money is made.  The place where guests have their wildest fantasies
satisfied by the most exotic women.


As we stroll through the corridors of the hotel, a symphony of
tantalizing sights and intoxicating energy greets us. With every step, we
enter the domain of enchanting women melded into a world of erotic
possibilities. The sound of seductive conversations mixed with the
laughter and whispers of pleasure. My eyes feast on the provocative
encounters in each room.  This is my realm, where desires find their
release, where fantasies are woven into reality.


As the Madame of this realm, I lead Selina deeper into the heart of the
hotel. This is her first true foray into our world and her tough exterior
begins to crumble, revealing a certain vulnerability. She steps deeper
into the intoxicating atmosphere, her eyes wide with intrigue.


I bring my lips to her ear, brushing against her hair.


"Take your top off."

My words are a command, not a request.  She's smart enough to know that
I'm testing her.  She realizes that I'm on to her.  Now the question
is, will she run like a scared little girl?  She'll burn her bridges and
the guy who recommended her will be killed.  Or will she be a woman and
prove herself to me?


She hesitates for a second, then starts to remove her outfit and undoes
her top, standing in just her panties.  Her breasts are heaven.  Her eyes
are strong but she's clearly nervous.  I can see her chest breathing
deeper as the wolves in the room are curious about the new girl.


"Great tits," I say.  "Perhaps my instincts were wrong."

"I'm a businesswoman, just like you."


"Are you?"

"What are you suggesting?"

I stroke her breast, then nipple.  "Are you here to rip us off?  Looking
for someone, or something?  Or are you... dare I say it... a cop?"

"Fuck no."

"Now that's the kind of attitude that makes me nervous."

"No cop would ever stand like this.  I hate cops.  Always have."

I laugh.  "Women always lie.  A pussy never does.  Take your bottom
off.  Get naked."

The ultimate test for the enigmatic woman standing in front me.  The
pressure of the situation brings out the best of her.  She gets naked,
tossing everything aside, she even makes a point to get barefoot to prove
her commitment.  I love that her toes are on the floor.  It makes her
dirtier in my eyes.


I touch between her legs.  Wet.  Her eyes say one thing, her pussy
something else.


"You're potentially a million dollar whore," I say.  "And that's a
good thing."


She doesn't say anything, she just looks at me, knowing her life is
going to change for better or worse.  It all depends on how you look at
the situation.  Her mind is working like clockwork, going through
different scenarios, and something about that is extremely hot.


"I want to work here.  I don't want to leave."

"Good girl.  There's a lot that can be done with you.  Think of it as a
promotion.  But first we'll need to test the goods.  Then we'll talk
about opportunities."

I put my hand on her shoulder and guide her to a private lounge.  Her
muscles are tense, nervous.  I doubt she's been in this area before, so
close to all the blowjobs and gangbangs, and she doesn't know what to
expect.  Or maybe she does know what to expect.  That's why her energy
is so different now.


There's champagne on the table and neon lights on the walls.  I tell her
to sit, which she does.  I observe every subtle reaction on her naked
body, from her fingers to her toes to her eyelids.  It's these little
details which allows me to read a woman.  She's timid but her erect
nipples say she's aroused.


"I know this is a lot to take in.  But I want you to know that you're
safe here. I'll take care of you."


"Thank you."


I rub her thighs, spreading her legs, and I can smell the aroma.  The
muscles on her legs are toned and I wonder what she does for fitness.
There's a tenseness in her muscles and she forces herself to relax,
forcing herself to smile, but her pussy is wet.


Before I can take things further, an employee comes and calls for my
attention.


"Will you excuse me?" I say.  "There's business I have to attend
to."


"Sure, I'll be right here."

Her smile suggests relief, but there's no relief working here.


I go back to the main floor to tend to the myriad of issues that come
with running a high-end place on a Saturday night, but I tell my
assistant to make sure that Selina is put through the ringer.


"Give her three men.  See how she handles that.  Be relentless.  She's
a virgin at this, so get top dollar from our best customers.  They love
new girls."

A waitress needs help with a table, a customer is complaining about the
food, and one of the girls is having trouble with a client because she's
refusing to do anal and getting spanked. There are issues with picky men
wanting particular types of pussy and I smooth things over.  I'm doing my
best to keep everyone happy, but it's not easy.  All part of the job.


My mind, of course, is with Selina as my assistant finds three
businessmen who were closing a corporate deal in the bar area, and brings
them to the backroom lounge.  The men look eager as my assistant explains
they'll be getting a new girl who's never been `claimed' in this line
of work.  To these types of men, that practically makes Selina a virgin.


It's a funny thing, a woman's first gangbang.  There is a mix of
anticipation, nervousness, and excitement that swirls within her. It's an
exploration of her desires, a journey into uncharted territory where
boundaries are pushed and inhibitions are lost. She may feel a surge of
empowerment, a sense of liberation in embracing her sexuality. But
there's a tinge of vulnerability, a touch of shame, as she exposes
herself to multiple partners. It's a profound moment where a woman learns
about herself.


After I tend to the main areas of the hotel, I eagerly return to the
backroom lounge where I listen to the sounds of the businessmen putting
Selina to work.  She's getting her brains banged out by a group of horny
men.  It's a raw kind of sound, which makes me doubt she's a cop.  A
cop would have been out of here a long time ago.


In the midst of the vibrant atmosphere within these neon walls, amidst
managing my team and ensuring guest satisfaction, I pull the curtain
aside and witness Selina's transformation. The allure of this place casts
a spell on her and I watch as her reserved demeanor fades away. She
becomes captivated by her own sexuality, driven to uncover the depths of
her desires.


Her legs are spread and men are taking turns with her, each thrusting
away into her pussy.  The men have done this before, taking turns, so
they know what to do and how to properly handle our merchandise.  Their
shirts and ties are still on, but their pants are down as they fuck.
Selina takes it all.  Just like I knew she would.


As the Madame, it's my job to keep clients satisfied and to guide women
into this lifestyle.  Selina is discovering her newfound freedom and
liberation, her heart racing, moaning and grunting with each thrust,
fully aware that her world is changing forever.  She'll emerge
transformed, forever marked by a gangbang.  The money she'll be getting
will also make a difference.  She's getting paid more for this than a
week's worth of serving drinks.


It's later into the night when I'm finally free to speak with her after
the clients are done with the gangbang.  She's a mess of cum and saliva,
all around her mouth and pussy.  She looks at me with defiant eyes,
changed from this gangbang experience.  I've made her into a whore.  She
knows she's been turned, broken in, and there's no going back from
this.


I remove my top when approaching her.  Then the rest of my clothes.  My
night hours are coming to an end and now I get to relax a bit.  Women who
are `turned' arouse me because I've taken something from them.  But
then again, maybe she was never so innocent to begin with.


My pussy is inches from her face and she looks at me with an icy glare.
She's exhausted, I don't care.  She brings her mouth to me and starts
eating.  Her cum glazed lips feel fantastic.  Yes, the girl is a new star
around here, but still that feeling of danger lingers.  For now, I just
enjoy the sensation of her tongue going inside me.


I reach down and finger her pussy.  A mess.  A hot cummy mess of
goodness, and the deeper my two fingers go, the more I feel what was done
to her.  Stretched.  Totally stretched.  Yes, she's ruined from
tonight's gangbang and she'll never forgive me for taking her
innocence.


But she came, her release evident in the radiant glow on her face and the
subtle signs of arousal that linger. As an observer of women's pleasure,
I can sense the echoes of orgasm vibrating through her body. Her
pulsating clitoris and the lingering tension in her muscles hint at the
intensity of her experience. I estimate that she's indulged in at least
two, if not three or four orgasms tonight, marking a journey into the
realm of her own multi-orgasmic nature -- an exploration that's both
thrilling and empowering for her.


My cum sprays across her tongue and she swallows because she knows
what's good for her.  She drinks while looking me in the eyes.  That
piercing gaze.


***


It's early morning when I bring Henrick up to Selina's room.  She knows
we're coming, I texted her a few minutes ago for an impromptu visit.
I've already briefed Henrick on the gold mine we have with her and that
rockstar pussy.  The guests have been raving about Selina and her
persona.


The door opens and Selina is fully naked with her hair and makeup already
done, exactly as I had instructed her to be.  Henrick marvels at her
figure, wondering why he's late to the party, wondering why he hadn't
approached her for sex earlier.  He realizes he should have turned her
sooner.  Nonetheless, we go inside and Henrick instructs her to take a
bath while we talk.


We have a semi-formal business conversation Selina washes herself.  The
words we share bring a smile to her face and I notice the subtle response
from her body -- the erectness of her nipples indicating her growing
excitement. There's a lingering hesitation in her expression, but as the
numbers are presented, her perspective shifts and she becomes more
inclined to embrace these opportunities.


"As always, I'd like a sample first," Henrick says.  "I've heard
about your cunt, not much about your mouth.  So let's start there.  Your
mouth."


There's a glimmer of hesitation that flickers in her eyes, and by
contrast, I can sense a twisted excitement emanating from Henrick.  It's
a peculiar aspect of men, finding a perverse pleasure in the act of
initiating women into a new world. In this instance, it would be Selina's
first experience performing a blowjob as a prostitute for us. I know it's
a dark and seedy underbelly we operate in, but that's our reality.


She gracefully steps out of the bath, her body glistening as she towels
herself dry, and with a seductive sway, she walks toward the bed, baring
herself completely. The palpable hesitation lingers in the air,
intermingling with her feigned confidence, a facade that deceives most
men, including Henrick for sure.


Yet, I see through the act, my instincts sharp and perceptive. There
remains a lingering twinkle of doubt about her true intentions, but only
time will reveal the depths of her loyalty. Engaging in sex is one thing,
but the act of performing fellatio exposes a different truth.  Any woman
can lay on her back and get fucked, but it takes fortitude to put it in
your mouth and suck.


The boss stands in front of her and Selina knows her role, unzipping his
pants like she's opening a lollipop then she looks at it then gives it a
lick.  Her eyes widen, as if she can't believe she's doing this for a
powerful man while I'm watching with sharp, skeptical eyes.   Her lips
wrap around the shaft and she takes it deep.  Her head bobs and she
savors the taste of precum.  I can tell Henrick is responding to these
sensations, which means Selina is doing something right.  It's not easy
pleasing the boss and she's doing well.


With the throbbing erection penetrating deeper into her mouth, a
transformation is taking place within her. The act itself becomes a
catalyst for a shift in her identity as she ventures into the realm of
early-morning transactions without alcohol to bolster her confidence.
It's in these nuances that a woman's psyche is molded and reshaped. I'll
admit, the girl can suck.

She makes humming sounds, I wonder where she learned that.  Whatever
she's doing, it's working, and Henrick nods and enjoys the blowjob,
happy with the new employee and her skills.  It's minutes until Henrick
groans and grabs her hair, signaling that he's about to cum.  Selina
wraps her lips tight and takes every drop like a good little bitch.  She
swallows everything.  What a sight from a beautiful young woman.


"That was excellent," he says.  "Who taught you that?"

"I learned from the best.  That's all you need to know."


"Fair enough.  Be ready for tonight.  We'll keep you busy."


"Thank you, sir."

Henrick, with a paternalistic gesture, pats her head as if she were a
doll before he leaves to conduct his routine morning business. In that
moment, Selina is left with the taste of power and submission lingering
on her tongue, a silent reminder of the web she's now entangled in.


When we're alone, Selina remains naked and gives me an awkward smile.
It's the kind of smile shared amongst women, where you can't tell if
they're a friend or enemy.  A bitchy kind of smile.  I don't know if
she wants to eat my pussy or kill me.  This both terrifies me and turns
me on.


"What is it?" I ask.


"A surprise for you."

"Do you want to eat me out?"

"Maybe that will happen, but not right now."

Selina reaches into the drawer and places an object on the table and my
eyes follow, trying to figure out what it means. It takes a moment for
the realization to hit. A badge. A warrant. The pieces fall into place
and a surge of adrenaline courses through my veins. I gaze at her, a fury
contorting my facial expression.


But there, on her face, is a smugness that sends a chill down my spine.
Her arms are crossed, an intentional gesture that accentuates the curves
of her breasts, almost mocking me. She revels in the power shift, her
lips still glazed with cum, her pink nipples fully erect.


The End


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