Chapter 8: Pleasure Bargain

I finished uploading all my notes for the Torrey Pines blood pool to the case’s CaseCloud right as Georgina asked me from behind, “Detective?”

I spun around. “Just Andrea.”

She smirked. “I’m ready, Andrea.”

“Alright, I need to check her availability.”

I dialed Diane’s office and Tricia picked up immediately and answered in her svelte, sensual voice, “Good afternoon, Andrea, how may I help you?”

“Hi, Tricia, I have someone who Diane might like to get to know better.”

“Business or pleasure?” she asked impishly.

“Both.”

“Ooo! Will this be a one-time appointment… or something involving a commitment?” I could hear her satisfied grin.

“A commitment, something similar to her arrangement with me.”

“She will be delighted, she’s wanted to become a collector for some time now. Let me check her schedule. — Alright, she has an appointment with the night shift supervisors in 5 minutes, but I can postpone that for an hour.”

“Uh, that really isn’t necessary, we can wait until—‍”

“She would insist, Miss Bachman. And I would not keep the captain waiting if I were in the kind of relationship that she and you are in.”

“Are you saying…?”

“If you were talking to her right now, she would be telling you exactly what I’m telling you… but it would be a command, rather than a strong suggestion.”

((This is what I signed up for—total obedience.)) “Right. We’ll be there post-haste.”

“See you in a minute, Copper Cutie,” she said flirtatiously before warning huskily, “Do not keep her waiting.” She hung up. Something about her parting words sent a shiver through my spine—dreadful, but not exactly unpleasant.

“Okay, Georgina,” I said, getting up. “She’ll be seeing you. Immediately. It would be in my best interest if we sprinted there… but I don’t want to cause a scene.”

“Then we hurry as casually as we can.” She tried to say this with resolve… but I could hear the trepidation on her breath.

We snaked our way through the hallways to the Vice squad room and met Tricia within her vestibule—about my age, 5′6″, long brunette undercut in a bun, almond face with a gentle sprinkling of freckles, piercing chestnut eyes, lips exactly as full and red as I suspected, wearing a puffy white button-up shirt with a big pink ribbon tied around her collar like an oversized bowtie. I surmised the vestibule, nonstandard for the captains’ offices at the station, gave Tricia privacy so that she could handle Diane’s extra-vocational matters without fear of eavesdropping. Georgina and I accepted Tricia’s hand as she rose and offered it to each of us in turn. “I’ve observed you at a distance, Miss Bachman, and I am pleased to finally meet you. And who would you be?” she asked Georgina, with a touch of intrigue in her voice, her eyes running up and down the new girl’s body, as though appraising her the way a cat fancier judge might inspect an exemplary Siamese.

“Georgina Dominguez,” she introduced herself, “Acting Lead Crime Scene Investigator for Team 8.”

“Charmed,” Tricia purred. From the mellowing of her purple-shadowed eyelids and the inviting twist in her bubbly lilt, I concluded that the new girl had passed the assistant’s initial inspection. She returned to her chair, propped her elbows on her desk, and smiled slyly as she pinched either end of a pen between thumbs and index fingers and rolled it back and forth. “Are you comfortable working on your knees, Georgie?”

“Well… um…” She blushed. “Half of my work is on my knees. Although I’m usually wearing knee pads.”

“Can you work without them?”

“I can… work on my bare knees, yes, but I would appreciate some kind of cushioning on the rare occasion the work takes me more than a few minutes to finish.”

“I assure you your needs will be accommodated. Diane does her best to ensure that her special friends are comfortable… unless they forget to say ‘please’.” She gestured towards the door behind her and ominously bid us, “Step right in, ladies.”

We entered Diane’s sanctum to discover her sitting on her desk in a very striking maroon Italian two-piece suit on a body I wanted to grope, a black fitted men’s shirt defined by a chest I wanted to touch all night, a pair of swanky black patent leather shoes at the ends of legs I wanted her to wrap around my head, a vivid scarlet tie around her neck I could yank on in a moment of passion, and black lipstick on a smirk that could have been concealing the sharpest fangs I’d never seen. “Good afternoon to the two of you. Andrea, would you care to introduce me to my next potential client?”

Georgina swallowed nervously as I acquainted them. “This is Georgina Dominguez, CSI, Acting Lead for Team 8. She… deduced that you and I have an arrangement, and expressed interest in having something similar.”

“Andrea, my dear… did you let slip our secret?”

“No. Maybe.” I clenched my eyes shut. “Ugh. (Yes.)”

“Tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk. If our meeting ends to our mutual satisfaction, I will spare you your punishment.” I swallowed nervously this time. “Georgina… how are you fairing?”

“Well, Captain.”

“You may call me ‘Diane’.”

“Well, Diane.”

“What is your modest wish?”

“I want to be a medical examiner.”

“So it must certainly be the case that you do not have a medical license, otherwise you would have applied for the job and acquired it without my assistance.”

“I don’t have a license… yet. I’ve hit a roadblock.”

“And that would be…?”

“Despite a 520 on the 2015 MCAT, every med school in the area has passed over my applications.”

“I do not know the significance of the number 520 or what this MCAT is.”

“The MCAT is the exam that med schools use for screening applicants, and a score of 520 was in the 99^th percentile the year I took it.”

“Impressive. If you are such a smarty… why are they snubbing you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe they picked up on your competitiveness,” I suggested. “Which, while arguably a virtue, might also be the reason you’ve been passed over for Lead for so long.”

“Which is just to say that everyone who gets to know me for more than a minute becomes jealous of my unparalleled competence, and intimidated by the possibility of me being their boss someday.”

“Obviously.”

Diane chuckled. “How very unfair. I have an insider at UCSV who owes me a favor. I am willing to spend it on you, for the right price.”

Georgina surprised me by not hesitating before replying, “Deal.”

“Well, well. I admire your eagerness, Georgina—but do you not wish to hear the terms of our business arrangement before we commit to it?”

“I already know. You own my body.”

“Though you are free to leave at any time.”

“And also my job, in the process.”

“And also your school, in the process,” she corrected.

Georgina smirked. “A fair stipulation to discourage your play things from dining and dashing. I accept.”

Diane elegantly dismounted her desk and semi-circled behind it. “Before you accept this gift, there is a rule all of us must follow without exception. If at any point one of us needs the action to come to a screeching halt, she needs merely to speak the word ‘red’. Does this work for you, my new friend?”

A puff of relief escaped her pursed lips. “Sure, I accept having a safe word.”

“Now we may say ‘deal’. Deal?”

“Deal.”

She opened a drawer and pulled out a tangle of leather straps and buckles; sticking out of it was something that looked like a black silicone penis, significantly girthier than Judy’s or Jacklyn’s, about half an inch narrower than a beverage can and a little under 3 cans long. Based on images I had purely by chance stumbled upon while researching something else, I concluded that the thing was a strap-on dildo. (I had been looking up dildos for first-timers.) “Then let us consummate our pact. Do either of you know how to use one of these?”

Before I could answer in the negative, Georgina proclaimed, “I’d recognize a Pole Position Power Stroke strap-on any day of the week. I use them all the time. All my partners have a great time getting dicked down by me, pussy or ass; I love watching them turn into screaming puddles of pleasure.”

Diane tossed the strap-on at her and she caught it awkwardly by the phallus. “Put it on. Andrea, strip down.” With zero hesitation, if not a little eagerness, I began taking off my clothes—coat, jacket, shoes, shirt, bra, pants, panties, socks, the last of my already meager shame. She retrieved a couple of yoga mats from the corner of her office and spread them out side-by-side. “Once you are nude, Andrea, get down on your hands and knees. Georgina, position yourself behind her.” Before long I was in position and ready for anything, and Georgina, fully clothed, had the strap-on secured around her hips. Our owner tossed her a bottle of something clear. “Don’t forget the lube.”

I heard Georgina catch it, and while she was following her orders I became wetter and wetter the longer I thought about the frighteningly proportioned dildo she was readying for penetrating me.

As I waited on the mat on all fours, I felt a finger inside me, prompting me to briefly tense and grunt in surprise. “She wasn’t lying, Diane, she’s like the Colorado down here.”

“Is she now?”

“And damn, is this a cute pussy. I’d like to eat her out.”

Diane gave my hair a gentle pet. “Later. Right now, I want you to fuck her with your cock.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Georgina eagerly.

“Just ‘Diane’, for now.”

“Yes, Diane.”

I felt something at the entrance of my pussy, and moaned eagerly and whined ecstatically as millimeter by millimeter it parted my lips and entered my hole and stretched me in a way I’d never been stretched before. “Oh, (f-f-f-fuuuuck.)” My eyes rolled up, my jaw fell slack, and my legs and arms shook like Jello.

“Does it feel good, my pet?” asked Diane.

“Oh… Oh, yes, it feels… amazing. Incredibly good. Very, very pleasurable.” Georgina slid in a little more aggressively. “(Mhhhhhh, yessss…)”

“You should see the wolfish grin on Georgina’s face, Andrea. And the lewd smile on yours.”

“God, this feels so good.” She pulled back a few inches, and the rigid silicone scraping backwards against my insides was a new sensation altogether. “I want this forever. I wish my girlfriend’s cock—(ungh)—was this big. I’d never get off of it.”

“Oh? You have another lover?” asked Diane curiously.

“(Uh. Um.)” Georgina tapped my cervix, sending a mild shock through my pelvis—which I did not mind one tiny bit—causing me to gasp and forget what we were talking about. “Ahhhh! That was nice, can you keep doing that? What were you asking, Diane?”

“Tell me about this girlfriend’s cock.”

“Um, sure. I like—(ah!)—riding it. I like it when she puts—(mh!)—it inside me and fucks me. And then when her gift spills out onto the—(mh!)—the sheets… There’s something beautiful about the sight of it. I like—(ah! yes!)—lying there with her inside me, not necessarily having sex, just… holding it in there, filling—(ah!)—my empty space, connecting us, making us whole.”

“Cream pies and cock warming, very intimate; one might call them ‘mammalian’ or ‘primal’. I am happy to hear that your sex life is flourishing. What does she do for a living?”

My mind was clouding with pleasure, but I had enough sense not to tell her about Judy’s weed business. So I told a half-truth while Georgina slammed my pussy. “Ah! Delivery.”

“What exactly does she deliver?”

((Damn it.)) “Cannabis.”

“Which dispensary does she work for?”

As she asked this question, a hunch began to grow in the pit of my stomach, hypothesizing that she was not interested in innocent getting-to-know-you conversation, but rather in interrogating me in search of my skeletons. “Um—(ah!)—an independent dispensary.”

“Give me a name.”

“It’s—(oh, yes, you’re so big)—uh, it’s hers.”

“Does her dispensary have a current license?”

“It—‍” It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate with each pleasurable thrust into my pussy. “—it does.”

“Georgina, pull out.” My worst nightmare ensued as her other servant, with a loud, wet sound, removed herself from me. Diane placed a finger under my chin and tipped my head up so that I was looking her in the face. “Tell me about her dispensary license.” My eyes grew wide, I swallowed. My thoughts were still hazy from the bliss; I craved the silicone cock, needed it. “Andrea, answering my every question is part of our bargain. Are you going to renege?”

((Oh, God. She wants me to betray Judy. I can’t.)) “Are you going to hurt her?”

“I would never. And if I did, you could retaliate by reporting me to IA for sexually abusing my fellow employees. You are recording our conversations as a contingency plan, are you not? That is the smart thing to do.”

I shook my head meekly.

She chuckled, “Really, now? Are you truly so loyal to me, so soon, that you trust me always to be fair?”

The truth was, I had never considered recording us—I had no interest in sending her to jail, because she was a potential asset in my investigation, whether as an informant or as someone with strings to pull for me… unless, being the Vice Captain and therefore in charge of the raid, she was complicit in the kidnapping. But she didn’t need to know that, and my uncritical loyalty had gotten her excited; the happier she was, the likelier she was to help me. “I’ve never considered betraying you, even to retaliate in the event you threw me under the bus. It simply doesn’t fit into how I want our relationship to work.”

She blinked, wonder glowing in one eye and ecstasy twinkling in the other. “So will you tell me the truth about the legal status of your girlfriend’s business?”

“You already have it figured out. To tell you the obvious would be an insult to your intelligence.”

“Very astute. Georgina, resume thrusting. Penetrate her nice and deeply, she seems to enjoy your brand of stimulation.”

Georgina followed Diane’s orders, and resumed pounding me, each impact on my cervix causing me to yell through my nose. After a while, I recovered a bit of my ability to think just long enough to ask, “Mistress, are you—(ahh!)—enjoying watching?”

“‘Mistress’! Oh, my God, I love it. Refer to me as such whenever no-one else is listening.”

“Yes, Mist—(ah)—Mistress.”

“And yes, you are performing admirably, pet. I would like to know: were you always such a good girl?”

“I suppose I’ve always been… what I am now, more or less.”

“Do you ever exceed the speed limit?”

“I unintentionally went five over just—(mmh!)—yesterday, but that’s the first time in a year I’ve—(hha!)—gone too fast.”

“Is there anything interesting in your disciplinary record?”

“N-no.”

“Pause.” Georgina paused with her tip tickling my entrance. “Tell me about your disciplinary record.”

Most of the blood that normally hung out in my brain had recently migrated to my reproductive organs, so I struggled to find words. “(Uh…) Late to work, malingering, (hm…) dereliction of duty.”

“Is that everything?”

((Well this is weird, being interrogated about my past conduct. Can’t say there’s anything to be proud of, playing by the rules has never really been one of my hobbies. Still… perhaps she’ll find some of my saucier secrets interesting.)) “IA had me pegged for multiple infractions I committed while on duty.”

“Oh? Catching IA’s attention is quite an achievement, they only go for the cases that threaten to severely embarrass the department. What came of their investigation?”

“I was fired before they could finish the investigation.”

“Scot free.” Her eyes, sharp and critical, examined every pore, every droplet of sweat, every vellus hair on my face. “Your brief notoriety, however, does not impress me. How about misdemeanors and felonies?”

“Nothing,” I assured her, choosing not to add, ((that I’ve been convicted of.))

“Sex work.”

“If I were to do something illegal, but there aren’t any cops around to arrest me, did I actually commit a crime?”

She chuckled. “I am interested in every offense you have committed, even the ones that did not result in a conviction. Tell me about the times you’ve broken the rules without getting caught.”

“(Um.)”

“Do you want Georgina to fuck you?”

“Y—yes.”

“Then confess, my little lamb.”

“I was… pulled over for driving erratically.”

“Were you intoxicated?”

“Yes.”

“High or drunk?”

“Drunk.”

“How many?”

“At least 5.”

“5? For a woman of your size… that is a rather hazardous volume to imbibe.”

“Yes. It was. I flashed my badge at the officer who pulled me over and they let me move along.”

“(Hm.) Very naughty. Do you regret your actions?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.”

“Wear your albatross in whatever way feels most comfortable. How about high school? Were you by any chance a troublemaker?”

((Is she disappointed that I’m so well-behaved?)) “Tardiness and truancy.”

“Hm. It would seem you lack discipline as much as you lack any kind of rebellious impulse. Did you ever cause trouble as a daughter?”

“No, my mother and I have always gotten along very well, in every way.”

“Given your obedient nature, I am not surprised to hear any of this. Notwithstanding your incredibly reckless behavior and shamefully poor work ethic, you are a shining example of good citizenship. But that tardiness, tsk-tsk-tsk, I will not tolerate. You will be on-time to our engagements without exception.”

I nodded. “As you decree, Mistress.”

She petted me on the head. “Very good, Andrea. Cum for me.”

“Of course, right away, Mistress!” I focused on savoring the experience of Georgina giggling and bumping into my cervix. Each thrust was the swelling of winds and each collision of her dildo against the threshold of my uterus was the beat of a pleasure parade where—

My mind gave into peaceful delirium and my muscles shook and my genitals and brain flooded with happy chemicals, causing me to make a little noise that I’d never noticed before amid the deafening, deadly waves of euphoria past.

Diane was gently fondling several curls of my hair as I finished coming back to life, panting deeply, crumpled with my cheek planted on the yoga mat. “So… damn… (cute,)” remarked Diane.

“That really is the cutest sound I’ve ever heard a woman make,” remarked Georgina, quickly adding, “but not cuter than the one I make.” I was too weak to get up.

“Andrea, my pet, that was very entertaining. And Georgina, my newest pet, you performed marvelously. It is unfair that you were not afforded the opportunity to climax, but you did exactly as you were told, so you will be rewarded accordingly.” My chest heaved.

“I don’t need to cum to have fun. Watching her melt into Silly Putty was very satisfying. I’d like to do it again. And again… and again… until I’ve fucked her into insanity and she’s addicted to me filling her cunt with my cock.” I felt myself getting wet and eager all over again.

Diane grinned. “That is the spirit. If her insanity is what the two of you desire, you shall receive opportunities in abundance. Andrea, are you looking forward to worshiping Georgina’s strap-on for the rest of your life?”

I found the strength to sit up, limbs still shaking, and with a sheepish smile I admitted, “It may already be my other owner.” They laughed. “This revelation about my cervix is life-changing.”

“Most women don’t like it,” Georgina explained, “but every body is different.”

“And I suppose mine is just extremely receptive to absurdly big phalluses.” I raised my ass and wiggled it. “I… wouldn’t mind another round, Georgina, if you’re up for it.”

“As much as I would enjoy watching you get fucked again,” Diane informed us, “I have a meeting with the lieutenant and sergeants in 15 minutes, which I have already postponed once this afternoon, so I am afraid we do not have time for another go. Whatever the two of you do on your own time—with each other or with other consenting adults—is up to you. Do not let yourselves be caught—I would rather not spend hard-earned goodwill with the higher-ups on bailing you out of trouble. But, before you leave… I want both of you to accompany me to a special venue this afternoon, 6 o’clock… sharp.” She gave me a glance as sharp as our appointment.

((Shit, I was planning on getting in some overtime.)) “What time is it now?” I asked.

“4:32,” replied Georgina.

“We have an hour-and-a-half. What’s the venue?”

“Asmodeus,” replied my mistress. I had never heard of it.

“Isn’t that place a…?” began Georgina, leaving her question unfinished.

“A… what?” I asked.

“Do not answer her question, Georgie,” Diane commanded quickly with a grin. “Let it be a surprise for her. Drea, I want you to remain ignorant. I forbid you from researching the venue, whether online or through word of mouth.”

“I… will refrain from inquiring, Mistress.” ((Our mistress will have no way of knowing if I disobeyed her… Okay, maybe she would, seeing that she’s a detective. Plus… I find myself… well… I have to admit that I find myself wanting to follow her orders. But I’m not sure that entertaining that desire will be healthy.))

“And to save you from the temptation of looking it up on your map app in the process of finding your way there, I will convey the two of you myself. Georgie, what is your address?”

“408 Harding.”

“Drea?”

“2840 Arthur.”

“28^th Street! You live deep on the East Side,” observed Diane, incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Then I must find you a place in a nicer neighborhood.”

“If you have the connections to get me something affordable…”

“You will pay much less for your new habitat than you do for your current one.”

“Nice.” Then my heart sank as I realized ((I won’t be living next door to Judy anymore. I’d have to drive across town to see her.)) “But…”

“‘But’?”

“At the moment, my girlfriend lives right next door. If I move to the West Side, the drive to her apartment could be 40 minutes or more.”

“So? Do you love her?”

“To use the very crudest word in the dictionary to describe my feelings for her… Yes, I love her.”

“If your feelings for each other are so great that they require a term more sophisticated than mere love, you will have an easy time making it work. True love transcends distance.”

((She sounds right—but she isn’t taking into account the fact that Judy and I are soulmates, that we need to be near each other—the farther we are apart, the more my soul must stretch to stay in one piece.)) “Would you… Mistress… be willing to find her an apartment next to mine, in her price range?”

She rolled her eyes. “I can arrange for her a habitation—but know that if your relationship cannot survive a measly 40 minutes of separation, it is not much of a relationship.”

((You don’t understand how close we are.)) “Yeah, uh… yeah.” ((Maybe if I move I’ll ask her to move in with me.)) The thought of living with Judy, not just under the same roof but in the same apartment, got me excited, but something in my mistress’ tone, her seriousness, worried me that this was not a game. “Is moving into this new apartment mandatory?”

Her stare told me it was a stupid question. “Of course it is. I would like to be able to visit you and fuck you with a view of the beach, if not a spot on the beach.”

“Okay. So if my girlfriend were to move in with—‍”

“Absolutely not. Your domicile will have a single bedroom, and the only people with permission to enter it are you, me, my other pets, and any guests I may bring. Am I clear?”

“You mean…”

“No-one else goes into that room. And that excludes your girlfriend.”

((Even if she finds Judy an apartment next to mine, Judy’s clients are all on the East Side, within spitting distance of our apartment complex. If she moves to the West Side, either she’ll need to travel a whole hour-and-a-half via the (pathetically slow) transit system instead of the quarter- or half-hour it currently takes to start her day; or she’ll need a car, which is an expense I’m not sure she’s willing to shoulder; or in the worst-case scenario she’ll need to build up an entirely new clientele within her new neighborhood. None of this sounds like it will appeal to her, so… she probably won’t agree to the proposition. She can’t sleep in my bed, so I’ll have to drive to her place to sleep in hers. I really don’t like this. Although… making such a major sacrifice to please my owner… especially one that complicates what has been until now an effortless relationship… is making me feel a certain kind of way. It makes zero sense, of course, considering how much I love Judy, how much I need her, to touch her and be close to her, to become one with her.)) “If… that is what you want,” I acquiesced, my heart weak with reluctance… and suffocated by excitement.

“Why are you acting so glum? I am paying for your new apartment, and it will be a nice apartment, professionally decorated according to your tastes.”

“That sounds awesome,” said Georgina. “Am I getting anything like that?”

“If you prove yourself loyal. This one has proven herself to be extremely enthusiastic about one of my crueler kinks, so much that I am excited to see just how far I can push her… Drea, bark like a dog.”

Broken and with no will to disobey—and every reason not to disobey, even if I had the will—with the entire bottom half of my heart, I barked, “Wuff.”

“See? She has no shame. Would you like to give it a try, Georgie?”

“I, (uh,)” she stammered. “Bark?”

“Bah—we will try again later, under the appropriate circumstances. Get dressed, both of you, get out of my office, go home, change into something nice—Drea, wear that pretty black dress. No panties, either of you.”

I pleaded with my eyes.

“Do not give me that look, pet. What did I say?”

“No panties,” we said in unison. I resumed dressing.

“Good. Georgie, what color are you wearing tonight?”

“I have a little black dress, I have a navy dress, I have a white dress—‍”

“Wear the white. Drea, I will pick you up at 5:15, Georgie, be ready by 5:50.”

We got back into our work clothes, and Georgina and I made ourselves scarce.