Camden, New Jersey – The Day After Shareen Aziz’s Assassination

Julie Sanderson came through the kitchen door into the bright, airy kitchen that overlooked a neatly trimmed lawn and well-kept garden. She was panting and flushed, having just completed her five mile run and Tommy Lomax was waiting for her, still dressed in his bathrobe and slippers. Tommy had been up late working a murder case with his partner Jack Shepard.

Tommy was dark-haired and handsome with deep brown eyes. He was lean and muscled, his skin pale except for his arms, legs and face which were tanned. His chest was scarred by little pockmarks of silvery flesh. There were other old scars on his torso and his upper arms and legs. Except for Julie, very few people knew that those scars had been inflicted on him by an abusive father.

Julie was dressed in black lycra leggings, a pink body-hugging short-sleeved spandex sports top and Addidas running shoes. She was a tall woman even in her running shoes. She was slim, with pert breasts and long shapely legs. She wasn't pretty but she had an interesting face, her nose was a little crooked and her mouth was too wide. Her piercing green eyes were her best feature along with her full lips. Her emerald-green eyes were framed by a brunette, shoulder-length blunt-cut bob. She smiled at Tommy who was leaning with his back against the breakfast bar drinking a cup of coffee and his face lit up. Tommy was head over heels in love with Julie.

“Hi gorgeous,” he put down his coffee and reached for her.

Julie slipped out of his grasp before he got a hold of her and turned her back to him, pressing her belly against the kitchen sink, looking out the window while she ran the cold water for a while before filling the drinking glass she had taken from the drying rack. Tommy pressed himself against her back and Julie could tell that he had opened his robe and that he was sans underwear. His cock pressed against her ass.

“I don’t feel gorgeous at the moment honey. I’m hot, sweaty and tired from my run,” Julie spoke to the windowpane where she could see Tommy’s reflection.

He had that look in his eyes.

Tommy reached around and cupped her breasts through the spandex top and ground his cock against her buttocks.

“I missed you last night. I had to spend the night with that fat-fuck Jack Shepard sitting in an unmarked surveillance vehicle listening to Jack whine and fill the car with farts,” Tommy nibbled on her ear and felt her nipples harden.

“Then let me go and we can climb in the shower together,” Julie tried in vain to remove Tommy’s hands from her tits.

“But you look so hot and sexy dressed in lycra and you know I love it when you wear those tights,” Tommy continued to nuzzle her, grind his cock against her buttocks and fondle her breasts.

He slipped a hand between her legs and found her penis pressed against her perineum kept in place by the tight lycra. From the front she presented a perfect Vee between her legs which she knew that most men looked at when she ran by them; that and her tits. Men were such animals she thought… but she appreciated being appreciated.

Tommy found her penis was semi-erect. The feeling of his cock against her ass and the fingers of his left hand tweaking her nipples while his right hand stroked her cock through her tights was having the desired effect.

“Ok Tommy you win,” Julie bent over and presented her ass to her husband.

Tommy grinned as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her tights and pulled them down to the top of her thighs, exposing her perky, white, unblemished, buttocks. Julie’s cock sprang free and Tommy began to stroke it while Julie Kegelled and allowed her testes to descend and fill her scrotal sac. She groaned as Tommy eased his cock between her buttocks and she reached behind and positioned his cock against her sphincter. She smiled to herself when she grabbed Tommy’s phallus and discovered that he had greased it. He’d planned this and had been waiting for her to return. He loved to fuck her in unconventional spaces: in the car, in an elevator, in the woods, once in her father’s gardening shed when they were visiting her parent’s place.

She gritted her teeth as Tommy gripped her hips and pushed his cock inside her all the way, taking his time, letting her anus accommodate his pre-lubricated erection. When he was fully inside Julie he slipped a hand inside her top and began to massage her breasts while he stroked her cock to full tumescence with the other.

“Tommy you are such a deviate,” Julie gasped as Tommy began to fuck her with long slow strokes.

“But you love me anyway,” he nuzzled her neck and she twisted her head sideways so that he could kiss her mouth.

Julie wriggled her buttocks as a response and pushed back against him, slipping her tongue into his mouth briefly before nipping his bottom lip with her teeth.

“Oh you you’re going to pay for that you hussy!” Tommy gasped and stroked her cock harder and faster using her precum as lubricant as he ploughed his cock in and out of her ass.

“Oh, god yes! Fuck me Tommy!” all semblance of decorum disappeared as Tommy’s cock lit up the sensitive nerves in her sphincter and anus and a deep throbbing resonance began to radiate from Julie’s prostate.

Tommy felt Julie’s anus undulate, a trick she told him she had learned from another transgender woman with whom she had had a brief fling. Her anal cavity gripped and released his penis as it thrust in and out of her tight passage. His cock was fully engorged and throbbing and close to extremis. His scrotum slapped against her soft creamy buttocks. He slowed down a little waiting for Julie to catch up.

She was breathing deeply and erratically, little whimpering noises coming from her mouth. When her hard cock began to quiver in his grasp Tommy jackhammered his cock in and out of her slick passage, feeling her anus palpitate, milking him of his seed as her cock erupted in his hand, her semen spattering on the tiled floor.

Tommy leaned over her, panting, nuzzling her earlobe, spent and satisfied, his cock still buried in her ass and Julie turned her head again to kiss him.

“Oh my god! Mrs Brackenridge is looking at us over the back fence,” Julie burst out laughing.

“She can’t see what’s happening below the window sill. She thinks that we are just making out like any married couple who love each other,” Tommy waved at Mrs Brackenridge and the old woman smiled and waved back.

“Come take a shower with me sweetheart and if that little blue pill you took this morning is still working we can go again. I’m leaving this afternoon for Balwyn Texas,” Julie did another Kegel and this time Tommy’s cock slipped out of her anus.

She took it in hand and led him to the bathroom by his cock.

“What’s happening in Balwyn Texas?” Tommy asked.

“You wanna fuck me again in the shower or you wanna talk shop?” Julie squeezed Tommy’s cock and felt it begin to engorge.

She had her answer.

“So Balwyn?” Tommy lay on the bed watching Julie pack her suitcase and hand luggage.

“Remember I told you about Shareen Aziz and our concerns regarding his links to the Lebanese Mafia?” Julie took a skirt-suit from the wardrobe and put it in a garment bag.

“Sure, you said that the FBI suspects that the Lebanese Mafia is making inroads into the drug trade,” Tommy suppressed a yawn.

He was tired from the overnight surveillance duty and the vigorous sex.

“Well Aziz was assassinated in a nightclub-cum-bordello in Balwyn Texas. At the time he was fucking a transgender prostitute who also got hit. We think the killers left her for dead but she survived. I’m joining up with the local PD to investigate the case,” Julie said and waited for Tommy to react.

Julie Sanderson had been a detective in the NYPD and because of her investigative skills and insight into the LGBTI community had been pigeonholed into working almost any crime involving transgender women, usually sexual assault cases. She had met Tommy when she had been assigned to work alongside him investigating the murder of transgender prostitute who was the progeny of a State Senator. At first they had clashed and hated each other but it turned out that they had more in common than either of them thought at the time and the case had brought them close. So close in fact that Tommy, once a transphobic misogynist, had mellowed and become enlightened and they had fallen hopelessly in love with each other and had eventually married.*

The case had been high profile and Julie’s heroism and investigative skills had been brought to the attention of the FBI who had recruited her. She had moved in with Tommy and they married and settled in Camden but her duties required her to travel extensively.

“So as soon as a transgender woman is involved, the FBI bring in their TG poster girl,” Tommy growled.

“You know it’s not like that Tommy. I’ve been working in the organised crime division, specifically investigating the resurgence of the Lebanese Mafia. It just so happens that the witness is a transgender girl. Even you have to admit that I’m the perfect agent to assign to this case,” Julie sat on the bed and held Tommy’s hand.

“Well, you are perfect, that’s for sure,” Tommy pulled Julie to him and kissed her softly, careful not to spoil her lipstick.

“I’ve got to finish packing, my car will be here soon. I’ll call you from Balwyn,” Julie stood up and smoothed out her skirt.

Tommy was asleep before she had even left the bedroom.

Balwyn City Hospital – Trauma Recovery Ward

The FBI Lear stopped at Austin, which as well as being the location of FBI headquarters in Texas, was also the city closest to Balwyn. Julie was driven to the Federal Building and given an update on the situation in Balwyn. Caprice Capshaw was still sedated and Detective Bobby Keen from the Balwyn PD had been assigned as Julie’s liaison and partner. He was stationed bedside and uniformed officers were providing security at the hospital. Darnell DeAngelo and Lester Slocum had both attempted to visit Caprice but had been turned away.

Darnell DeAngelo had had to be restrained when he was denied access to the hospital and had yelled: “Hey! Where my girl chin-nuts at? She belong to me!” before being evicted from the property. Julie was given a final briefing and handed a slim file on Caprice Capshaw and a thicker file on Lester Slocum to read on the plane. Cameron Capshaw, AKA Caprice Capshaw, was to be interrogated as to the identity of the assassins who had murdered Shareen Aziz and if possible to be enlisted as a confidential informant and sent back to work for Lester Slocum.

Julie read the files on the small commuter plane. A file on Detective Bobby Keen had been added to the bundle of paperwork she had stuffed in her briefcase before leaving the Federal Building in Austin. Julie knew that Bobby had worked a case sometime in the past with Tommy Lomax before Julie had met her husband. Some kind of joint task force. She would call Tommy from Balwyn and see what Tommy thought of him. When the plane landed she put her belongings in the trunk of an unmarked FBI vehicle and went straight to the hospital.

She met Bobby Keen outside Caprice’s room in the trauma recovery ward and quickly decided to use the tried and true ‘good cop – bad cop’ routine on Caprice, whom the doctors had said would likely regain consciousness within the hour. Bobby had gone in first and tried his bad cop, even referring to Caprice as ‘chin-nuts’ and hadn’t got far when Julie joined him as good cop and had tried to empathise with Caprice but that hadn’t worked out either. Caprice had seen right through them but at least they had Caprice’s backstory.

While Caprice ate, Julie and Bobby swapped the cigarette back and forth and considered their next move. Julie contacted an FBI analyst to search for anything useful on Travis and Deanna Capshaw, Caprice’s parents, and also Lyle Pendleton.

“Ok we’ve tried psychological negotiation tactics to get her to talk. Now we go with plan B,” Julie sighed.

“We have a plan B?” Bobby Keen stubbed out the cigarette they had been sharing.

“We have a plan B,” Julie smiled at Bobby and squeezed his arm.

Julie told Bobby about her plan B.

They returned to the trauma ward, nodded at the cop stationed at the door, and entered Caprice’s room. She was sitting up in bed with a scowl on her face watching the orderly remove her food tray. She had drank more water hoping to rinse the taste of locum from her mouth because it kept evoking thoughts of her lying under Shareen’s body covered in his blood.

“Hey, Mutt and Jeff are back,” Caprice looked defiantly at Bobby and Julie.

Julie ignored the sleight and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Do you see the cop standing outside your door?” Julie nodded towards the entrance to the room.

Caprice ignored her.

“He’s not here to keep you in. He’s here to keep people out. There are other cops positioned strategically around the hospital. They are also here to keep you safe,” Caprice still didn’t respond but the wheels in her head were turning.

“We don’t expend those kind of resources on a tranny hooker unless we have good reason,” Bobby chimed in and Julie flashed him a withering look.

“You were supposed to die in that big bed alongside Shareen Aziz. The people who assassinated Shareen didn’t want to leave any witnesses but they fucked up. They must have seen you unconscious and covered in Shareen’s blood and brains and thought they had killed you. You are one lucky girl,” Julie gave Caprice a wan smile.

“You are expendable Caprice. I’m going to extrapolate that you were used as bait to lure Shareen into that room so he could be killed. You understand what I mean by extrapolate?” Julie asked.

“I didn’t finish high school but I’m not an idiot, ok,” Caprice sniped.

“Lester Slocum and Darnell DeAngelo came to the hospital to see you but we turned them away. They weren't carrying chocolates or flowers and Darnell referred to you as chin-nuts. Do you really think they came here to wish you well?” Bobby interjected.

“I think they came here to either finish the job or to warn you to keep your mouth shut,” Julie added before Caprice could reply.

Caprice wasn’t stupid. She knew damn well that Darnell and Lester had come to the hospital to see if she was going to survive her wounds and if she was, to tell her to keep her trap shut. She thought it highly unlikely that they had come here to ‘finish the job’. Whoever killed Shareen Aziz would wait until she was out of police custody before taking her out. That scared her because she had, if only briefly, seen the faces of the two assassins.

“I’m still not talking,” Caprice said defiantly.

“Well this place isn’t really conducive to conversation. We’re going to take you somewhere else to continue this discussion,” Julie smiled.

“A safehouse?” Caprice asked.

“She’s not as dumb as she looks,” Bobby chuckled.

“We’ll get you some clothes and use the back entrance,” Julie patted Caprice’s hand, the one handcuffed to the bed.

“You know all about taking things in the back entrance. If you’re a good girl we might let you suck a few cocks on the way out. Some of these patients look like they need a good cheering up,” Bobby continued his bad cop charade.

Caprice just stuck her tongue out at him. Julie took her phone out of her jacket and went over to the corner of the room and had a long conversation.

Caprice’s extraction was not a complicated process but first off Julie had a heated discussion with the hospital administrator. The administrator was not happy and she argued rightly that giving up a hospital bed just so that the cops could pretend that Caprice was still in the trauma ward was a waste of valuable resources. Julie compromised and agreed that the hospital could put any female patient they wanted in the room currently occupied by Caprice but the hospital records were to reflect that Caprice was still the patient in the bed. The cop was to remain stationed outside the room and other cops would come and go, pretending to provide security to maintain the charade.

Caprice was unhooked from the IV and Julie and Bobby were given advice regarding how to care for her wound from the surly doctor who Bobby had berated earlier. Julie helped Caprice dress in hospital scrubs and when they were ready Caprice was walked out of the rear entrance of the hospital and bundled into Julie’s unmarked sedan. She was placed in the rear of the vehicle where the doors and windows were locked once she was belted in.

Caprice sulked throughout the journey complaining about having to wear the shapeless scrubs and whining that her arm hurt. Julie didn’t engage with her and fiddled with her phone. Bobby was driving and he turned up the volume on the country music station which gave Caprice something else to whine about but drowned out her whinging. Julie changed the radio at the top of the hour to the local all-news station. The second headline story was as follows:

A man was killed two nights ago at the Bedazzled nightclub in downtown Balwyn. Reports are sketchy but it’s believed the man was shot by two unknown assailants in what is believed to be a drug deal gone bad. No names or further details have been released by the authorities but our crime reporter says an inside informant has advised him that a woman is being treated for gunshot wounds at Balwyn hospital who may have witnessed the crime. She is reported as being in a serious but stable condition. Now for the crop and cattle prices, we go to our agricultural reporter Jessie…

Julie turned off the radio.

“I wonder who that inside informant might have been?” Bobby said sarcastically.

“Hey, we control the news and we control the information flow. Lester Slocum will think that Caprice is still in hospital and if he sends anyone to go snooping around they will see the security detail outside the hospital room where they will think Caprice is still recovering,” Julie quipped.

It was getting on dusk when the car pulled up next to a freestanding farmhouse on the outskirts of Balwyn. From the road the safehouse looked just like the other farmhouses scattered along that stretch of backroad but it was fitted with high-tech surveillance equipment including cameras and movement sensors and the walls and windows were built from bulletproof materials. There were clear lines of fire from the upstairs windows that covered the whole perimeter.

Caprice was led inside, taken to the kitchen-diner and told to sit. She sat in the chair and sulked while Julie and Bobby turned on the lights, activated the security system and made a few phone calls.

“You stay inside the house unless one of us is with you. All the external doors and windows are securely locked and only Bobby and I have the codes and keys to open them. You’re safe here and we can talk without interruption or anyone else listening in,” Julie said.

“I told you I didn’t see anything and I ain’t saying anything. I want out of these scrubs and I want some real clothes,” Caprice hissed.

Julie didn’t answer her, she got busy on her phone while Bobby checked the weapons in the small arsenal kept in a large gun safe.

“Go and have a shower and then I’ll dress your wound and make you comfortable. Your bedroom is at the last one on the right at the top of the stairs.” Julie replied.

“I’m getting some things delivered to make you feel comfortable. There are toiletries and a bathrobe in the bathroom,” Julie made a shooing motion.

Caprice made a face but she was looking forward to taking a shower.

While Caprice was upstairs an unmarked van arrived at the farmhouse and dropped off suitcases, fresh provisions and other necessary requisites to keep the three occupants comfortable. Bobby and Julie lugged everything inside and the van left.

“Courtesy of the FBI,” Julie smiled at Bobby.

“We did this on the fly. The house has plenty of dry provisions, the Wi-Fi is secure and the bedding is fresh but we need to be comfortable because we don’t know how long we will be staying. I arranged some clothes for Caprice,” Julie tapped a suitcase with her toe.

“Clothing is important to her at this stage of her transition. She will want to present as feminine as possible to reinforce her gender identity. You can drop the bad cop act too, we need to get her onside and cooperating. The other suitcase was packed by agents who went to your house. There was nobody at home so they just packed what they thought you needed. Is there anyone you need to call?” Julie asked.

“No wife. No girlfriend. Well not a girlfriend who needs to know that I won’t be home for a while. We’re more friends with benefits, if you know what I mean,” Bobby grabbed his suitcase and made his way to the stairs.

“You organised all this on the way here?” Bobby paused at the bottom of the staircase.

“Yep, I’m a multi-tasker,” Julie smiled at him.

“I can see why Tommy fell for you. You got the looks, the ass and the legs and you’ve got a brain too,” Bobby gave her a cheeky grin.

“Thank you for the compliment Detective Keen; if that’s what it was. Is that misogynist dinosaur thing an act or are you really like that?” Julie replied, furrowing her brows.

“I guess we are going to have plenty of time to find out,” Bobby chuckled and then grunted as he lugged his heavy suitcase upstairs.

Julie took her suitcase in one hand and her garment bag in the other and took them upstairs to her room and then came down for the last suitcase which was filled with items for Caprice. She took it up to Caprice’s room and knocked gently on the door before entering. The room smelled of bath soap and deodorant. Caprice was sitting on the bed dressed in a bathrobe. Julie sat down on the bed next to Caprice.

“We have to dress that wound,” Julie gently peeled the wet dressing off Caprice’s upper arm.

The doctors had done a good job stitching up the wound and it was no longer bleeding but looked red and angry. Caprice had lost a lot of blood and the doctors had put her under anaesthesia temporarily, partly because of the gunshot trauma but mostly because when she came into the hospital she was in shock and kept kicking and fighting and behaving outrageously. It was the only way they could get her into surgery.

“So you’re still playing good cop. Dressing my wound and generally being nice to me, relying on us both being transgender as a means of sisterhood,” Caprice commented dryly.

“Look. You told us about your past, the abusive relationships you’ve had and are still in. I can’t imagine how bad things must be for you, relying on selling yourself and dealing drugs to pay for your transition. My life hasn’t been that bad, except for one really bad experience when I was in college,” Julie unconsciously fingered the scars on her wrist.

“Four guys raped me at a frat party and it took me a while to get over it. I whored around a little, nothing like what you do of course but I was promiscuous. I have loving parents and they supported me and I got over it and made a life for myself and now I am married to a man that I love. You can put this life behind you Caprice. I can get you out. Get you into witness protection. Get you on proper meds and even help you get surgery if you that’s what you want,” Julie stroked Caprice’s arm.

“All I have to do is become a rat,” Caprice removed Julie’s hand from her arm.

“You owe those people nothing Caprice. They used you. They betrayed you,” Julie continued regardless.

“What’s in the suitcase?” Caprice changed the subject.

“I have some clothes for you in this suitcase. I sent a female officer shopping for you. She guessed your sizes based on the silver dress and high heels that were entered into evidence. There’s makeup and other stuff to make you comfortable too,” Caprice’s face brightened at the news.

“I told her to buy you girly stuff, you know, dresses, skirts, blouses, stuff like that. I know how important it was for me to present as feminine as possible before I had my feminisation surgery,” Julie tried again to stroke Caprice’s arm.

“Well they did a good job on you. I took you for a lipstick lesbian when you first walked into that hospital room,” Caprice admitted.

“Thank you… I guess,” Julie blushed.

“Do you still have your cock or do you have a designer vagina?” Caprice grinned evilly and Julie removed her hand from Caprice’s arm.

“That’s a little too personal. I’ll leave you alone to go through the suitcase and get dressed. You're probably dog tired and ready for bed,” Julie stood up and smoothed out her skirt.

“Also I had the policewoman retrieve your clutch from evidence. Of course the cellular phone has been removed but everything else should be there,” Julie changed the subject.

“What’s the story with bad cop? He’s a cool drink of water. Is he fuckin’ you?” Caprice sniped.

“I never met Bobby until I came to Balwyn so I’ve known him for as long as you have. His name is Bobby Keen by the way,” Julie replied icily.

“Well send him up next and maybe I’ll throw him a freebie,” Caprice laughed evilly.

“We’re professionals Caprice. We are trying to help you help yourself,” Julie sniped back.

“You want me to rat out Lester Slocum and Darnell DeAngello. You don’t give a fuck about me,” Caprice reached for the suitcase.

Julie left the room thinking, ‘We want you to do a lot more than that. We want to send you back into the lion’s den’.

Caprice opened the suitcase. The first thing she did was snatch her clutch out of the suitcase and opened it. Her ‘essentials’ were still in there except for her burner phone: a soft pack of Marlboro menthol lights, a lighter, a pack of Extra chewing gum, a small tube of KY jelly, the key to her apartment, a small atomiser of Dior Poison perfume and a twenty. She snatched up the cigarettes and lit one and explored the rest of the contents of the case.

Julie hadn’t lied. Inside were a couple of skirts and blouses, two dresses, a pair of lycra leggings, two pairs of heels, underwear, sleepwear and a complete makeup and grooming kit. She upended the suitcase on the bed and rifled through the contents. The makeup and grooming kits went on the antique vanity and the clothes went into the wardrobe. She sat on the padded chair in front of the vanity and laid out the makeup and grooming essentials while she finished her cigarette, taking crude delight in stubbing out the cigarette on the varnished wooden vanity top and flicking the butt in the general direction of the waste bin in the corner.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked haggard and older than her twenty years. She could still see a little ‘boy’ in herself and organised the makeup in front of her, wishing she had something to drink. In the room closest to the top of the stairs Julie was unpacking while down below Bobby was putting the fresh provisions into the refrigerator and making coffee.

Julie sat on the bed took out her phone and called Tommy. After the pleasantries she asked Tommy what he knew about Bobby Keen.

“Bobby Keen is your Balwyn PD liaison? Fuck!” Tommy bellowed into the phone so loud that Julie had to hold it away from her ear.

“I worked with that fuck on a joint taskforce a few years ago. He’s a drunk and a lecher,” Tommy growled.

“But is he a good cop?” Julie asked.

“He’s a fucking good cop but don’t let him get close to you or anyone else who wears a skirt and keep an eye on his drinking,” Tommy sighed.

Julie and Tommy talked for a quite while about domestic issues and a forthcoming vacation. Meanwhile Caprice had finished her hair and makeup and had dressed and was preening in front of a full-length mirror fitted to the wardrobe door.

“I look fuckin’ hot!” she smiled at her reflection.

She snatched up her clutch and made her way downstairs.

“Fuck me, you look a lot better than the harried waif I met in the hospital,” Bobby looked Caprice up and down and liked what he saw.

She was wearing a long-sleeved white satin blouse and tight-fitting red skirt that showed a lot of leg. Said legs were clad in glossy tan pantyhose and her feet shod in red high heels. Her shoulder length light-brunette hair had retained the wavy do she had done at the hairdresser before she went to Bedazzled. Her makeup was heavy but expertly applied and Bobby’s cock thickened slightly and he had to reminded himself that he was dealing with a material witness and a potential CI.

“Is there anything to drink in this place?” Caprice’s heels click clacked on the tiled floor as she strode across the kitchen diner.

“There’s coffee,” Bobby said brusquely, reaching for the coffee pot.

Caprice flounced into a chair, briefly flashing her red satin panties and Bobby caught a glimpse and Caprice saw him looking and smiled inwardly. Julie came down the stairs, her own heels making that same click clack sound and Bobby turned to look at her as she descended that last few runners. Being cooped up with these two hot women, one a sophisticated mature alluring FBI agent, the other a young, overtly sexualised prostitute was going to play havoc with his self-control. At least their perfumes didn’t clash, they were both wearing Dior Poison.

“I’ll take a cup too,” Julie took a seat across the table from Caprice.

“I thought you might be dressed for bed?” Julie said to Caprice.

“Your friend did a good job whoever she is. The stuff in that suitcase is better than anything I have at home. Thought I might wear something nice after having to wear those horrible hospital scrubs,” Caprice stifled a yawn.

“Anyone hungry. I could cook something,” Bobby brought the coffee over to the table.

“Not me. That hospital food I had earlier is stuck in my craw. But I could use a drink though,” Caprice took a sip of coffee.

Julie shook her head. She’d eaten on the plane and was too worked up to think of food.

“Ok, what about this?” Bobby got up and went to the pantry and came back with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s whiskey and poured a generous nip in his coffee.

Caprice held out her cup and Bobby poured and then held the bottle over Julie’s coffee cup but Julie shook her head.

“Caprice, I’d like to…” Julie began to speak but Caprice shut her down.

“I’ll tell you what, lady cop. Why don’t you just leave whatever you have to say until tomorrow. Me and Bobby here can get our drink on and then I’ll go to bed and sleep on it and we can start over. I have a lot of thinking to do,” Caprice swallowed her coffee and held out her cup for more whiskey.

“No one is getting their drink on. You two can have one more drink and that’s it. I’ll take the first watch until four AM, I still have a lot of work to do and calls to make,” Julie said in an authoritative tone; there was no doubt that she was in charge.

Bobby poured a generous nip in his and Caprice’s cups and put the bottle away then joined the two women at the table. Caprice downed her drink and stood up.

“Well looks like I dressed for a party that isn’t happening. I might as well go to bed,” she said in a whiney voice.

“I still think you don’t realise how much danger you're in,” Julie sighed at Caprice.

“Jeeze, you’re like a broken record. I’m heading up,” Caprice made her way to the stairs and Julie and Bobby watched her leave.

“The FBI must work late if you’ve still got calls to make,” Bobby said to Julie who was busy booting up a laptop on the small dining table.

“Rust never sleeps and neither do the Feebies,” Julie concentrated on the screen.

“What do think? Maybe I should try being the good-cop,” Bobby went over and took the bottle of Jack out of the pantry and collected two glasses from a cabinet and nodded in the direction of the stairs.

Julie considered the ethics of what Bobby was surreptitiously proposing. During, what the press had called the Fleur-de-lis murder case, she and Tommy had veered well over the line of ethical behaviour to solve the crime. The FBI had pretty much given Julie free reign to do whatever was necessary to get Caprice to identify the killers and to turn her into a CI. Cops often looked the other way and bent the rules to keep their CIs providing them with meaningful intelligence.

“You go on up. This place is like Fort Knox and I doubt that whoever Slocum is working with has any idea where we are,” Julie said resignedly.

“You sure?” Bobby was actually asking for tacit consent.

“I think she likes you. You might do better than me,” Julie replied and then buried her face in the laptop screen.

Bobby made his way upstairs where Caprice was lying on the bed, her back against headboard and one leg drawn up, listening to the stairs creak as Bobby ascended, half-expecting Bobby to visit her. Julie had tried to turn her, now Bobby would try. Caprice had survived on the streets long enough to figure out the strategies of those who wanted something desperately. She had her clutch on the bed beside her and was considering lighting up another cigarette when she heard Bobby’s footsteps stop outside her door.

Bobby tapped lightly on Caprice’s door and entered her room. He was carrying the bottle of Jack and two glasses and Caprice’s face lit up when she saw the booze. The room was lit only by the bedside lamp and Caprice remained silent as Bobby dragged the chair from the vanity over next to the bed and sat facing Caprice and handed her a glass. He filled their glasses with generous nips and put the bottle on the bedside table where he noticed the half-used tube of KY Jelly and briefly considered what it was doing there.

Down below in the kitchen-diner Julie heard the scrape of the chair being dragged across the floorboards and gave a wry smile. If Bobby could turn Caprice the lapse in protocol would be worth it.

“Thanks,” Caprice said.

“Bottoms up,” Bobby smiled at her and chinked his glass against hers.

“Is now when you make some snide comment about me spending most of my day with my bottom up?” Caprice took a sip of the golden liquor.

“Nah, we’ve decided to can the good cop – bad cop bullshit. It obviously isn’t working,” Bobby took a sip of his drink.

“That’s quite a story you told us back in the hospital. You’ve had a very torrid life,” Bobby broke the ice.

“Not as bad as some of the girls working the streets in the freezone. Is this where you become all compassionate and try to use sympathy to get me to talk?” Caprice looked at Bobby over the rim of her glass.

“Nah, I just wanted someone to drink with. Julie’s on guard duties and she’s busy working,” Bobby smiled at Caprice who gave him a droll smile in return.

“She’s pretty hot in that skirt suit. All sort of business bitch. I asked her if you two were fucking and she said no. You got something against trans women?” Caprice drained her glass and waggled it at Bobby for a refill.

“I only just met her. Besides she’s married to a colleague,” Bobby topped off Caprice’s glass.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Caprice smiled at him again.

“I have nothing against transgender women, not that I’ve met that many. The slurs and taunting were all part of my act. The act obviously didn’t work,” Bobby topped off his own glass and offered Caprice a smoke and took one for himself.

They smoked in silence for a while, the tension between them building.

Caprice’s tight-fitting red skirt had ridden up her thighs a little and her blouse was open to the second button, showing off the red brassiere that cupped her small breasts. Bobby’s eyes were drawn to her long legs sheathed in the glossy tan pantyhose. He was fascinated by the little wrinkles in the nylon at the back of her knee and around her ankle of the leg she had dawn up. Caprice exuded sexuality with her heavy eye makeup, full red lips and tousled hair. Bobby got up and found a crystal dish and brought it over to the desk so they could use it as an ashtray.

“You ever work the freezone?” Caprice broke the silence.

“Back when I was in uniform I worked the pussy-patrol a few times. Don’t think I ever had the pleasure of meeting you, probably before your time,” Bobby filled the glasses again

“You ever cop a freebee? A lot of the cops down there ask for a freebees,” Caprice gave Bobby a salacious grin.

“I’ll take the fifth thanks Miss,” Bobby actually blushed.

“Yeah… you took a freebee or two in your time,” Caprice smiled and held out her glass and they drank some more and as the booze kicked in Bobby became more fascinated with the pretty young trans woman lying on the bed only inches away from him.

Caprice saw Bobby checking her out although he tried his best to be coy.

“You ever fuck a transwoman?” Caprice asked brazenly.

“You have no filter do you?” Bobby replied.

“You sized me up as soon as you saw me in hospital. Pretty, young trans prostitute who sells her ass and sells drugs to get by. Then you hear my story and you pretend to feel sorry for me because men use me. But you and Miss skirtsuit downstairs are really no different. You both want something from me and you're trying to buy it, offering me protection and other inducements if I become a rat,” Caprice held out her glass for another drink.

“It seems all of the men in your life have used you,” Bobby topped off her glass.

“Oh, I’m no innocent. I used Brad Bilson to get free booze and smokes so I could impress those dumb-ass goth guys. I used Lyle Pendleton to get money and to get back at my mom. It was inevitable that we would get caught. I even used Lester Slocum to some extent. I didn’t have to go into that back room and fuck that Shareen guy but I wanted the extra money. I get used and I use people back. Every john that pays me for sex is using me but I’m using them too. Don’t try and paint me as a victim,” Caprice took a long pull on her drink.

“I know that I’m pretty and sexy and street smart and I use those assets to the best of my ability,” Caprice gave Bobby a cheeky grin.

“I see you looking at me. I’m posing myself here on the bed in front of you showing off my legs and little titties and you're looking and you're thinking,” Caprice smiled blithely at Bobby.

When Bobby had been in uniform he had taken freebies from the girls working the streets in the freezone. It was almost a right of passage for new cops on the beat. He’d fucked his fair share of prostitutes but never a trans girl. He’d let the trannies blow him but he’d always turned down coitus. That was a line he was unwilling to cross no matter how convincing and pretty they might have been.

But there was something captivating about Caprice. It wasn’t just her youth and beauty and allure. He thought that she was as hard as a diamond but somehow also fragile as fine crystal; easily broken. Despite her demeanour and vulgarity he was drawn to her.

“You gonna make a pass at me?” she asked causing Bobby to choke a little on his drink.

“It’s completely inappropriate for a police officer to engage in a sexual relationship with a material witness,” Bobby replied after a short coughing fit.

“Yeah, ok, whatever,” Caprice stubbed out her cigarette.

“So… you wanna fuck or not?” Caprice gave him a wicked smile.

Bobby wrangled only briefly with his conscience and the ethics of the proposal. Both she and Julie knew that when Bobby went upstairs with the bottle of bourbon that he was going to try to induce Caprice to cooperate using unethical means. The question was… how unethical?

Bobby put his cigarette down in the crystal dish and reached out and touched Caprice on the ankle. His fingertips traced the little wrinkles in her nylons that had so fascinated him. His fingers glided along her calf, caressing her smooth flesh encased in the glossy pantyhose. He petted her knee and then his fingers continued their journey along her coltish thigh until they rested just below the hem of her skirt. What was under that skirt was what had prevented him from fucking the trans prostitutes who had offered him freebies in the freezone. He’d watched his fair share of ‘tranny porn’ on the internet just like most men, but masturbating in front of a screen watching some young bull fuck a ‘femboy’ until she blew her load handsfree was different to actually doing it in real life.

“You scared of my cock? I can leave on my pantyhose and panties and just bend over if you like. You’ll never have to see or touch it. You can pretend that I’m a real girl,” Caprice taunted Bobby.

Bobby removed his hand from Caprice’s leg and stood up. For a second or two she thought that her attempt at seduction had failed until Bobby stubbed his cigarette and took off his jacket, shirt and pants and kicked off his shoes and joined Caprice on the bed.

His instinct was to grope her, kiss her fervently, get himself fully erect and fuck her, ignoring the fact that she had penis but for some reason he didn’t do that. Years of investigating street crime and dealing with hardened criminals and wannabe gangsters had ingrained Bobby with a sense of who was a real ‘hard-ass’ and who was a ‘wannabe’ and he could sense that Caprice was filled with bluff, anger and resentment. Underneath her hard exterior he could detect her fear.

To Caprice’s surprise Bobby held her close, spooning her, careful not to aggravate the wound in her arm, gently kissing her neck and caressing her cheek with his fingertips. He felt her shudder against him and mistook it for enticement but then he felt the warm tears running down her cheek. She was quietly sobbing. She turned and faced him and nuzzled up against him.

“They're coming for me aren’t they Bobby? Are you really gonna help me? Are you really gonna save me?” Caprice whispered.

He held her close and kissed her forehead. She felt so tiny nestled against his long, lanky body. He was disgusted with himself that his intent had been to take advantage of her.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you Caprice. I’m going to protect you. Julie is going to protect you,” Bobby whispered and stroked her hair.

Caprice pressed her lips against his and kissed him softly at first and then she did something with her tongue that startled him and electrified his libidinousness. Bobby was instantly erect, the tip of his cock poking out the top of briefs was rubbing against her nyloned thigh.

“We shouldn’t,” Bobby gasped into her sweet mouth.

“Don’t leave me alone Bobby. Make love to me. Don’t just fuck me like I’m a whore,” Caprice whispered.

Bobby didn’t answer. He kissed her cheek where her sweet salty tears had streaked her makeup. He kissed her eyelids and her forehead tenderly. Then he kissed her lips and they melted into each others arms.

He was careful not to hurt her but Caprice seemed oblivious to her wound as she writhed her body against him. He felt her tiny breasts rubbing against him through her blouse and he unbuttoned it and helped her remove it, being careful of the wound in her arm. Her unhooked her brassiere to reveal her small but perfect titties. When he touched them her nipples became engorged and she gasped into his mouth.

Bobby spent some time fondling her breasts and Caprice enjoyed it. Johns hardly ever touched her there and Bobby seemed to know what he was doing, caressing her alabaster skin, skimming his fingertips across her pink areolas, gently squeezing her sensitive nipples. Then he put his mouth on them and she groaned with the delight of it as Bobby suckled each teat, alternating between them.

She could feel his cock pressing into her thigh and she snaked a hand down there and rubbed Bobby’s phallus against her slinky nylons, feeling him shudder a little as she manipulated his cock. She rolled under him and Bobby lay on top of her, naked except for his underpants. Caprice had stopped crying and was blissfully distracted from the danger she was in. This handsome man taking his time, attending to her needs, being kind and considerate as he did so, made her feel safe and coveted.

His kisses were tender, his hands and mouth were attentive to her breasts which ached wonderfully as Bobby nursed at them, flicking his tongue across her nipples, gently nipping them with his teeth, his fingers stroking her skin. Then one of his hands began to journey down her body, softly caressing her unblemished young flesh. He stroked her hip and then his fingers lazily circled her flat stomach and her bellybutton. They traced the outline of the waistband of her pantyhose and panties.

Caprice tugged at Bobby’s briefs and he allowed her to tug them down and he shucked out of them. Now fully naked, he lay on top of Caprice who was still wearing her skirt, nylons, panties and heels. Caprice cupped his heavy sac and fondled his scrotum and then she took his erect member in hand and began to stroke it. Bobby’s mouth left her breasts so that he could kiss her, his lips pressing against hers, his tongue sliding inside her sweet mouth, met by Caprice’s tongue. They held each other close, content to kiss and caress each other.

She felt Bobby’s bloated cock swell and tremble, pre-ejaculate streaming from the eye. Caprice was rock hard inside her pantyhose, her cock aching to be touched but she didn’t know if Bobby would touch her there and then his hand drifted down her thigh and caught the hem of her skirt. She lifted her buttocks a little so that Bobby could ruck her skirt up, revealing her red stain panties worn over her glossy tan pantyhose. She liked the aesthetic of panties over nylons and it also served a practical purpose because the gusset of her pantyhose helped keep her tucked.

But Caprice was no longer tucked. Her cock had sprung free and rested along her lower belly, the distinctive bulge of her erect penis tenting her panties. Bobby was stroking her thighs, enjoying the feel of her sleek, slippery nylons against his fingertips but he broke the kiss long enough to look down Caprice’s body. For a small girl she had long legs, her little feet shod in the ‘slut-red’ high heels were both cute and sexy. But it was the bulge in her panties that drew his attention.

He contemplated ignoring it, remembering what Caprice had said to him: ”you’ll never have to see or touch it. You can pretend that I’m a real girl”. But Bobby had already made the mental adjustment and to him Caprice was a real girl, she was just a little different. He steeled himself and then his fingers drifted across Caprice’s thigh and came to rest on the front of her panties.

He felt her cock quiver to his touch and Caprice gasped into his mouth and she squeezed his cock a little tighter.

“You don’t have to…” Caprice was about to say ‘touch it’ but Bobby shut her up closing his mouth over hers and adjusted his body so that he lay on top of her.

Their cocks were pressed together, separated only by layers of satin and nylon and it felt wonderful to both of them. Caprice ignored the niggling pain in her upper arm and wrapped her limbs around Bobby Keen. She held him close and shimmied her legs against his flanks, her silky pantyhose lighting up the synapses in his flesh. Their kisses became more urgent as they began to rut, their cocks rubbing together through layers of diaphanous fabric, their tongues intertwined, their bodies writhing with the pleasure of it.

Caprice put out her good arm, her fingers scrambling on the bedside table until she found what she was looking for. She unscrewed the cap on the KJ Jelly one-handed, a skill she was very proficient at.

“Let me do this Bobby,” Caprice whispered, temporarily halting their frottage.

What they were about to do dawned on Bobby as Caprice grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under the small of back and shimmied out of her panties. He surprised himself. He was in no way disgusted. In fact the opposite was true. He was a little anxious but he was eager and concupiscent. He helped Caprice remove her panties and then he saw her cock for the first time, pressed against her belly, the seam of her pantyhose running along the turgid girth. He reached out and traced the seam and was delighted when a freshet of glistening precum bubbled up through the glossy nylon. Caprice shuddered when he did it but now she was impatient.

She wanted to feel Bobby Keen inside her.

She snagged a little hole in her pantyhose adjacent to her sphincter and pressed a globule of KJ Jelly into her puckered bud and lathered the rest of the emollient along Bobby’s shaft and it was Bobby’s turn to shudder. She guided his cock between her legs, through the hole in her pantyhose and nestled his glans against her pink, furrowed sphincter.

"Be gentle. Make love to me, don’t just fuck me," Caprice whispered.

As Bobby slowly slid his engorged manhood inside Caprice’s tight anus she lifted her legs and locked them around him and thrummed her heels his back.

"Oh my god, this is amazing," Bobby whispered.

The feeling was indescribably wonderful as Caprice’s rectum opened up to envelope and clench his turgid phallus. It was like his cock was being gripped tightly by a velvet glove.

The feel of Caprice's tiny body under him, her silken limbs grazing his tender flesh, her soft lips kissing him, the smell of her, the feel of her, was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was something he couldn’t have imagined and right then and there he realised that this could become addictive. He had only just begun to make love to Caprice and already he was imagining what it might be like to do this with her whenever they wanted.

It was different for Caprice too. The men in her life had used her, even Shareen Aziz, who had been kind and affectionate when he fucked her, had paid for her services but she didn’t feel used as she lay under Bobby Keen. She sensed his affection and his devotion. Yes they were both feeling unbounded sexual pleasure but there was more to it. They were bonded together both physically and mentally.

Caprice sighed with contentment when she finally had all of Bobby inside her. Her anus felt stretched to full capacity as Bobby’s cock induced a deep throbbing resonance from the walls of her anus. His glans pressing on her prostate induced a rapturous glow. His mouth was hungry, his tongue was alive, her tender teats were afire as Bobby ignited every pleasure centre in her body.

Caprice's cock was pressed against Bobby's tight belly and every little movement he made amplified the satisfaction she was feeling. Runnels of pre-ejaculate oozed from the eye of it and Bobby felt it pulsing on his flesh and it delighted him.

He kissed her passionately, his tongue slipping inside her mouth, exploring it as she clung to him, her nails raking his shoulders, her nylon-clad legs clutching at him, her heels digging into the small of his back, girding him on, encouraging him to fuck her.

Bobby began to slowly thrust himself in and out of Caprice's tight passage and she whimpered under him, shuddering with the ecstasy of it, encouraging him, rising up to meet his thrusts as he grasped her buttocks in his hands and drove his steely cock in and out of Caprice's tight anus.

They climaxed together. Caprice felt Bobby's cock swell inside her and then then erupt, depositing his issue deep inside her as she simultaneously ejaculated against his belly. Waves of pleasure enveloped them both as they clung to each other and made little whimpering noises. They kissed and moaned and held each other tight as Bobby drove his cock deep into Caprice's anus and gave her his essences. He felt her scalding semen on his belly as she orgasmed right along with him, her heels drumming on his back; he stifled her screams of pleasure with his mouth.

They lay sated and still, neither of them fully comprehending the magic they had elicited from each other. Bobby’s cock was still deep inside Caprice's anus, slowly deflating and he could feel Caprice's penis pulsing gently against his belly as the last dribbles of her semen leaked from it. Her pantyhose were saturated with her juices but Bobby didn’t feel repulsed. To his surprise he felt elated that he had been able to induce Caprice’s orgasm.

Neither of them wanted to move and spoil the intimacy and desire they felt for each other. They kissed and cuddled but eventually they disengaged. Bobby poured drinks while Caprice used the bathroom where she freshened her makeup and hair and took a ‘whore’s bath’. She emerged wearing a white satin negligée, hold-up stockings and transparent white panties and spun around in a circle to show off her svelte body clad in the exotic lingerie.

Bobby felt his cock begin to engorge again but Caprice made him wait until she had a drink and a cigarette and then they made love all over again, then they spoke late into the night, Bobby assuring Caprice that he would be there for her and would protect her, finally falling asleep in each other’s arms contented and sated.

The next morning Bobby came downstairs freshly showered, wearing a new suit and a clean shirt. He couldn’t look Julie in the eye. He was hungover and riddled with guilt. As he made his way to the Bunn and poured himself coffee Julie studied him in the morning light streaming through the kitchen window. He was tall and slim and his sun-kissed hair was a little too long for a cop; carefree yet sophisticated. He looked a little like Robert Redford when he was in his thirties and had Julie not been hopelessly in love and married to Tommy Lomax, Bobby would have been the just the type of man that she might roll back the covers for.

“You slept down here?” Bobby nodded at the pillows and coverlet on the sofa.

“I worked late and you were busy,” she gave Bobby an indulgent smirk.

“I worked until the early hours and I figured with the security systems activated and me sleeping on the sofa there was no need to wake you for your shift,” Julie eyed him over the rim of her coffee cup.

“How did you go with chin-nuts?” Julie was deliberately goading Bobby to see how he would react.

“Don’t call her that!” Bobby knew that the slur was designed to test him but he bit anyway.

“She get to you?” Julie took another sip of her coffee and watched Bobby carefully.

“Caprice will cooperate. I haven’t told her what we want her to do or offered her inducements. That’s your providence. Balwyn PD doesn’t have the capital or resources to offer what she wants in return,” Bobby settled in the chair across the table from Julie.

Julie was also freshly showered and wearing one of her customary skirt-suits and low heels. Her makeup was light except for the red lipstick that Julie seemed to habitually wear. Something about her crooked nose and too-wide mouth only made her face more fascinating and not for the first time Bobby felt a little jealous of Tommy Lomax.

“Well I worked my ass off and cashed in a few favours and I think we can make Caprice an offer too good to refuse, if I can quote The Godfather out of context,” Julie smiled at Bobby.

“That’s not the exact quote but why do you say we? You and Caprice have the same affinity. Without trying to be in anyway offensive, I’m sure you can work that angle,” Bobby stiffened a little.

“Oh come on Bobby. I heard you two going at it last night. I don’t know if you worked her or she worked you but there is obviously a bond there. You didn’t leave her room last night. If it was just a shag, as our brethren across the pond so eloquently put it, you would have bolted from that bedroom as soon as you blew your load but instead you slept with her and you rallied to her defence when I derided her this morning. You are going to be her white knight and I’m going to be her pseudo sister,” Julie stood up to refill her coffee.

Their conversation was interrupted by the patter of Caprice’s footsteps on the stairs.

She breezed into kitchen-diner like a young woman who didn’t have a care in the world rather than a girl who was being hunted by a dangerous pimp and a homicidal drug baron. Caprice was wearing black spandex leggings and a pink crop top. She was barefoot and had put her light-brunette hair in a ponytail. Gone was the slutty makeup, replaced by a hint of eyeliner, mascara and pink lip-gloss. Julie would have killed for her skin. Caprice could pass for fifteen dressed as she was with her lithe build and tiny titties.

She danced over and rested her hand on the back of Bobbie’s chair and pecked him affectionally on the cheek before she made her way over to the coffee pot. Bobby and Julie exchanged a look. The act of kissing him openly like that was Caprice’s way to make a statement. She was openly admitting that something intimate had happened between she and Bobby last night. She was still exuding confidence but her defiance, causticity and anger were no longer evident. She joined Bobby and Julie at the table.

“Soo… are you two talking about me?” Caprice smiled at Julie and then Bobby.

“Bobby tells me that you are willing to cooperate,” Julie cleared her throat.

“Sure, but I want a lot more than witsec in some Podunk town, flipping burgers for a living,” Caprice’s smile widened.

“Let me tell you what we have to offer and then you can consider it,” Julie tapped a bundle of paper that she had printed from the Wi-Fi printer.

“The FBI is willing to place you in witness protection. Specifically the federal government will provide you with a new identity with legal documents supporting your new identity as female. The FBI will engage suitably qualified medical practitioners to provide you with gender affirming procedures, limited to facial feminisation and breast enhancement surgery, ongoing hormone treatment and phycological support. The federal government will provide you with a domicile in a location of your choosing from a list provided by the US Marshals Service deemed safe and suitable,” Julie paused to take a sip of coffee but she could she that she had Caprice’s undivided attention.

Julie continued…

“The government will provide you with vocational training, to train and educate you, to the extent of your capacities and abilities, so that you can be suitably employed. The government will also provide you with a monetary stipend based on your level of cooperation. The merit and substance of any evidentiary intelligence provided by you and the results of said evidentiary intelligence and your attestation under examination in court will determine how much that stipend might be,” Julie read from the document in front of her.

Caprice was stunned. She had come down the stairs with a list of demands in her head that were nowhere near as generous as what Julie was offering her. But… Caprice was smart enough to read between the lines and decipher the legalise.

“To summarise, you are offering me a new life as an authenticated woman in a town of my choosing, a house, education, a shitload of cash, a boob and face job and protection from the bad guys if I give up the shooters and incriminate Lester and Darnell and testify against them in court,” Caprice sounded smug.

“Well kind of, Caprice but I think you didn’t interpret the part where I said: ‘based on your level of cooperation, the merit and substance of any evidentiary intelligence proved by you and the results of said evidentiary intelligence’. The evidentiary intelligence is the important part,” Julie tapped the paper in front of her.

Caprice looked puzzled.

“You need to go back and work for Lester Slocum and provide us with intelligence that will help secure the convictions of all those involved, especially the big boss. We want the boss not just the pond scum. As you so eloquently put it, you need to be a rat,” it was Julie’s turn to smirk.

Caprice paled, then looked at Bobby for help.

Bobby shrugged his shoulders.

“I told you that it wouldn’t be as easy as you thought it would be but we’ll be with you all the way. You will report to us and no one else. No one else will even know that you are a CI. We will never be more than a text message or phone call away from you if you need us,” Bobby reached out and patted Caprice’s hand.

Caprice said nothing for a while. She just stared at the document on the table for a while then she snatched up Julie’s pen and signed the document at the bottom.

Julie put the paperwork in her briefcase and took out a digital recording device and put it in the middle of the table.

“Ok, tell us everything that happened leading up to Shareen Aziz’s murder and describe the assailants to the best of your ability,” Julie gave Bobby a knowing look; they had accomplished the first part of their assignment.

“I’ll make pancakes. Anyone want eggs?” Bobby asked.

Both women shook their heads and then Caprice began to tell her tale, starting with Darnell’s edict for her to buy a new dress, get her hair done and make sure that she ‘looked fine’ before heading over to Bedazzled to meet with Lester Slocum.

Julie and Bobby did not interrupt her and let Caprice tell her story in her own words. They ate pancakes and drank coffee, Bobby and Julie taking notes now and then. As Caprice spoke, her midwestern accent came to the fore. She spoke articulately and lost the ‘street talk’. With her defences down, and having listened to Caprice’s life story, they both realised that underneath her ‘badass’ façade, Caprice was a vulnerable and frightened young woman. When Caprice finished talking they questioned her on few details and then Bobby asked the crucial question.

“What did the killers look like? Did you recognise them?” Bobby squeezed Caprice’s hand again.

“I didn’t get that good a look at them. Shareen was lying on top of me but I caught a glimpse of them as they approached the bed to, what do you call it… deliver the coup de grace. That’s when I got shot and the next thing I knew I woke up in hospital looking up at a detective wearing a cheap wrinkled suit,” Caprice smiled wistfully at Bobby.

“One was a tall slim white woman, about five-eight. She had short blonde hair. Short like a blunt-cut pixie bob with bangs, dark eye makeup, incredibly good looking but with sharp features. I think she was wearing a red pantsuit. The guy was also tall, over six feet. Also blonde, well built, snazzy dark suit. He was handsome and his hair was long and straight, like those elves in Lord of the Rings,” Caprice closed her eyes as she tried to recall the details.

“Very conveniently for Mister Slocum all of the security footage for the upper level and VIP area of Bedazzled for the night in question is missing. He’s claiming it’s a malfunction but we suspect that the cameras were deliberately turned off. We do have security footage for the entrance and lower levels. I’ll bring it up and you can watch it and see if you recognise anyone,” Julie fiddled with her laptop.

They sat around the laptop watching security video from around the time the murder took place. The footage taken from the ground floor of Bedazzled was poor quality and it was almost impossible to recognise anyone in the sea of faces gyrating on the dance floor or crowded at the bar. The footage from the security camera over the nightclub entrance yielded better results.

“There! Those two!” Caprice pointed at the screen and Julie paused the video stream.

On the screen were a tall white blonde woman wearing a stylish red pantsuit accompanied by a tall slim man with distinctive straight, platinum blonde hair wearing a bespoke dark suit. They could almost be twins. Both killers seemed to be intentionally keeping their faces turned away from the camera. Julie cut back to the ground floor cameras to see if she could get better pictures of them inside the club but they were lost in the throng.

“Wait! Go back,” Bobby said excitedly.

“Pause it there,” Bobby pointed at the screen.

The two killers had tried their best to avoid their faces appearing on the cameras, they obviously knew where the cameras were situated but they made the mistake of getting a drink at the bar while they waited for the appointed time of the assassination. They had their back to the camera as they ordered their drinks but their faces were reflected in the mirror behind the bar.

Julie enlarged the screengrab but enlarging it meant losing detail. She turned to Caprice who nodded.

“I think that’s them,” Caprice shuddered as she looked at the screen.

“I’ll send it off to the tech lab at Quantico and see what the geeks can come up with. They should be able to enhance the imagery and make it clearer. Then I’ll get it put through the facial recognition software and see if they are in the database,” Julie sounded excited.

“Ok, lets take a break and eat something then we’ll brief Caprice on tradecraft and undercover protocols. Then we brief her on what she needs to know about Lester Slocum, Shareen Aziz and the Lebanese Mafia,” Julie said to Bobby, relieved that they were getting somewhere; she wasn’t sure that the ruse at the hospital would last much longer.

Caprice listened in earnest while Julie and Bobby explained to her how to operate undercover.

“Lester Slocum will expect you to be nervous and skittish after what you have been through so don’t worry too much about blowing your cover by your demeaner but you also need to think before you speak so as not to trip yourself up. This is how we contact each other and communicate,” Julie went through the protocols.

Julie briefed Bobby and Caprice on what the FBI knew about the Lebanese mafia. They practically controlled Beirut and most of Lebanon and elements had expanded overseas. Lebanese immigrants had formed offshoot organised crime gangs in Australia, Germany and Canada and these factions had ties with similar groups operating in South America that were heavily involved in drug and people trafficking and money laundering. Recently in the US, remnants of the Syrian-Lebanese crime families in Saint Louis which had been affiliated with and under the control of the defunct Italian-American St. Louis crime family headed by Anthony Giordano had remerged and were looking to expand.

Shareen Aziz had been in negotiations with Lester Slocum’s boss, Daniel Huntsinger, offering Huntsinger’s organisation a better deal than they were getting from the Mexican Ortega cartel they were currently in league with. Shareen was not only offering cocaine at a cheaper price but had also offered them a sideline into people trafficking, namely young girls for the purposes of prostitution.

“Our intelligence suggests that Daniel Huntsinger went back to the Ortega cartel and told them of Shareen’s proposal to see if they had a counteroffer. They did. They offered cocaine at the same rate as that proposed by Shareen and offered to provide young girls and trafficked labourers on a contingency fee. It is believed Daniel Huntsinger had Slocum lure Shareen to his execution as a show of good faith to the Ortega cartel,” Julie finished her summation.

“So like you said back at the hospital, I was the bait,” Caprice had paid attention to every word that Julie had said and it all made sense now.

“Shareen Aziz was known to have a predilection for pretty young trans women. We believe that Lester Slocum asked his street bosses if they had a girl working for them who fit the bill and Darnell DeAngelo offered you up,” Bobby said plainly.

“I was supposed to die too wasn’t I? I was the only eye witness,” Caprice whispered.

“That’s right but that’s also your way back in and your insurance. We’ll explain it to you later but right now I want you to go upstairs and pack and change back into your hospital scrubs. I’ll deliver the clothes and makeup to your apartment, there’s no need for them to go to waste. The clock is ticking and we need to get you back to the hospital before your cover is blown,” Julie shut down her laptop and put it and the paperwork in front of her into her briefcase.

Just before Caprice left the table Julie produced a small package.

“This is pharmaceutical grade estrogen and these are androgen blockers. Follow the directions closely. Continue to buy the bootleg shit that Darnell DeAngelo is providing you so that you don’t raise his suspicion but ditch it. Pack them in your suitcase,” Julie showed the pharmaceuticals to Caprice.

Caprice went upstairs and Bobby followed her into her bedroom. Caprice tossed the medications on the bed and turned to face Bobby.

“You will protect me won’t you Bobby,” Caprice rushed into his arms and Bobby held her tight.

He was once again amazed at how tiny and vulnerable she felt. He could feel her heart racing.

“With my life if necessary,” Bobby whispered into her hair.

He smelled her perfume and her shampoo and feel the shape of her body moulded to his. Bobby didn’t know why she had this effect on him but she did. He wanted to protect her, to take her away from the hell that was her life. He’d only just met her but she had somehow imprinted herself on him. He felt himself thickening against her, an unwanted erection burgeoning in his loins.

“What’s this?” Caprice smiled up at him and gently stroked his cock through his trousers.

“Cut that out! We don’t have time,” Bobby hissed through gritted teeth as Caprice’s fingers massaged his growing hardon.

“I knew those leggings would get your attention,” Caprice continued to stroke Bobby’s cock.

They had spent the night talking about anything and everything between bouts of lovemaking and Caprice had teased him about his fetish for nylons and he’d admitted that he also a penchant for women wearing leggings and tights and his dislike of skorts, telling her that they were neither one thing nor the other. She could have worn anything to breakfast this morning and she would have gotten his full attention but those black lycra legging clinging to her long legs and buttocks and the little skintight crop top cleaving to her tiny titties and lithe body had really spun him up.

“Just a quickie then. It might be our last time for a while,” she squeezed his cock and Bobby’s hands went to her ass and squeezed her buttocks through her leggings.

He realised that she wasn’t wearing panties. She unzipped his fly and coaxed his hard cock through the opening and caressed it.

He kissed her and their tongues intertwined and she did that thing again that drove him wild but not for long. She squirmed in his embrace and spun her body around so that she had her back to him. His cock rubbed against her lycra-clad ass leaving silvery trails of precum on the black spandex. Caprice hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her legging and pulled them down, exposing her creamy, flawless buttocks. She guided his cock between them and nestled his glans in her sphincter and pressed her body against him so that his cock slid slowly into her anus.

The little vixen had obviously planned to have sex with him because she was clean and prelubricated. Her anus felt like a satiny sheath clinging to his cock as entered her. Her ass was like a soft peach pressing into his groin when he was fully inside her.

Bobby put his hands on her hips and began to slowly fuck her. She took one of hands and placed on it her penis which was hard and alive in his hand and leaking precum which he massaged into her turgid flesh.

“Do it quick, I’m nearly there already,” Caprice hissed through clenched teeth.

Bobby fucked her harder and faster, his penis stretching her sphincter, eliciting circlets of divine pleasure from the nerves ringing her tight hole. The head of his penis pressed on her prostate, lighting it up like a licentious dynamo. Her cock was juddering in his hands, her whole body was shaking as she pushed back against him. The thwok-thwok-thwok sounds of his pubis slamming into her soft creamy buttocks reverberated in the silence, punctuated by her gasps and growls as extremis approached.

She pushed her ass hard into him and squirmed and put her hand in her mouth to suppress a howl as her cock juddered in his grasp, erupting rope after rope of steamy milt. Her anus contracted around his cock and undulated in response to her orgasm and Bobby held her tight and released his issue deep inside her.

They stood like that both gasping, Caprice bent over with one hand on the nightstand to support her, her leggings around her thighs, her body shaking and Bobby behind her, his cock buried in her ass, his fingers soaked with her jism, his legs about to give out. They both came down from their orgasmic highs and realised where they where and the circumstances of the situation. Bobby reached out and snatched a handful of tissues from the box on the nightstand and caught the glutinous flow from Caprice’s sphincter as he extracted his penis. She snatched a handful of tissues too and wiped her cock clean.

They both suppressed giggles as Bobby zipped his fly and adjusted his clothing and Caprice peeled off her leggings and crop top and found a pair of panties to wear under the hospital scrubs.

Julie was in her bedroom packing and she heard the sex noises through the walls and reverberating down the corridor of the silent house. She felt a little jealous and also a little turned on but the professional in her wondered about Bobby. She had tacitly agreed to allow Bobby to seduce Caprice in an effort to entice her to become cooperative but had Bobby taken it too far. Had he seduced Caprice or had she seduced him? There was no doubt that under that fragile shell lurked an manipulative young woman. That was how Caprice had survived; manipulating men.

They rendezvoused in the kitchen diner, their luggage packed ready to leave.

“Ok let’s go,” the unmarked van had arrived and two FBI agents loaded their suitcases and other paraphernalia into it and drove away.

Julie drove her sedan with Bobby and Caprice seated in back. Caprice clung to Bobby as he went back over her cover story and reiterated the protocols she should follow to keep her safe while she was undercover. Julie interjected and pressed on Caprice the need to find conclusive evidence that would convict the FBI’s persons of interest.

Julie had already contacted the testy hospital administrator and told her that Caprice would be returning to her trauma ward room briefly and she called her again and advised the administrator of their ETA.

Inside the hospital Julie, Bobby and Caprice took the reverse route back to the trauma ward, nodded sagely at the uniformed officer stationed outside the door. They closed the door for privacy while Caprice changed back into the linen hospital gown and disposable paper panties that the hospital provided to surgical patients. They double checked the room so that nothing looked out of place. The only item in the room was Caprice’s clutch because the clothes she had worn to Bedazzled had been collected as evidence. With the help of a nurse they settled her in bed and the nurse hooked up the monitor that displayed Caprice’s vitals.

It was the same nurse who had been wearing the blue unicorn scrubs the other day. Today her scrubs were embroidered with pink My Little Pony emblems.

“Ok, Caprice I need you to make a phone call,” Julie produced Caprice’s burner phone, still sealed in an evidence bag.

Caprice paled.

“It’s ok. I want you to call Darnell DeAngelo and tell him that you are still in the Balwyn City Hospital trauma recovery ward under guard and that the cops have been grilling you but you have said nothing and that the cops have finally acquiesced to your demands to see a lawyer. I’ll help you figure out what to say,” Julie smiled wanly at Caprice who nodded but looked frightened.

The reality of what she was about to do and the danger she would be in dawned on her.

Once Bobby and Julie were happy that Caprice knew exactly what to say to Darnell they handed her the phone. The burner phone contained only one number in the contact list and Caprice dialled it. She left a message on the answering service and the phone came to life in her hand less than a minute later.

“Darnell?” Caprice didn’t need to pretend to sound shaky and scared; she was genuinely terrified.

“Chin-nuts?” Darnell sounded sceptical.

“Yeah it’s me Caprice. These assholes have kept me locked up in this hospital room grilling me but I told them nuthin’. I just kept repeating the word ‘lawyer’ over and over. This FBI bitch kept telling me that it was in my interest to talk but I kept my mouth shut. She said they could hold me for forty-eight hours without charge or some bullshit but anyway they finally rolled over and gave me my phone,” Caprice sounded as scared as she actually was underneath the bravado.

“Don’t say nuthin’ else on this phone. I’m sending over a lawyer to get you out,” the line went dead.

Within thirty minutes a slim balding man dressed in a natty black suit carrying an expensive leather briefcase in one hand and a small carryall in the other barged into the room and glared angrily at Bobby and Julie.

“Don’t say another word to my client,” he growled and pressed the call button for the nurse.

The My Little Pony nurse arrived promptly and responded to the lawyers questions. Yes, Caprice had been cleared by a doctor to leave the hospital quite some time ago and the hospital administrator had been pissed when the FBI agent and the cop had refused to let her leave while they continued to question her. She had heard Caprice ask for a lawyer on several occasions. No, Caprice had no other visitors and a uniformed cop had been stationed outside the door throughout.

The lawyer turned away from the nurse and glared angrily at Bobby and Julie.

“You two have infringed my client’s civil and legal rights and I will be making a formal complaint,” he barked.

“Nurse, please help my client get dressed and have her release documentation waiting at reception,” he hefted the small carryall onto the bed.

Caprice remained silent and compliant throughout while the nurse helped her dress in a tracksuit and light canvas sports shoes. The lawyer hadn’t thought to bring panties and Caprice had to wear the paper disposables provided by the hospital.

“You couldn’t have got me something decent to wear and thought about underwear?” Caprice growled at the lawyer who glared at her and told her to keep silent.

“Fuck you, you lesbian bitch and you too, you grizzly old fart,” Caprice sniped at Julie and Bobby as she snatched up her clutch.

The lawyer gently guided Caprice out of the room overplaying being careful about the wound on her upper arm.

When Caprice was clear of the room Bobby and Julie looked at each other and smiled.

“She knows how to play her part,” Julie grinned.

“So far, so good,” Bobby said thoughtfully.

“Thank you Nurse Gunderson. You played your role perfectly,” Julie smiled at the nurse.

“Happy to help once I realised that your partner wasn’t the asshat that I thought he was,” Nurse Gunderson gave Bobby a cheeky grin.

“You know where I work if you ever need to ‘take down my particulars’; as they say in those Brit cop shows,” she brushed past Bobby as she left and Julie shook her head at him.

Bobby gave Julie his ‘what did I do?’ look and followed Julie from the room.

To be continued…

* You can read all about Julie Sanderson’s past in my story: Whatever You Desire

Bedazzled Nightclub - Downtown Freezone, Balwyn, Texas

The lawyer’s limo pulled up outside of Bedazzled Nightclub. Not a word had been spoken between the lawyer and Caprice during the drive. Freddie, the large black security guy who Caprice was familiar with nodded at Caprice as he opened the door to the club and led the lawyer and Caprice through the club and then upstairs past the VIP area to Lester Slocum’s office.

Caprice sauntered into the office and sprawled on a couch, staring daggers at Lester Slocum and Darnell DeAngelo.

“Send the fee through the usual channels. If I need you again, I’ll contact you,” Lester said dismissively to the lawyer.

“The girl has a good case for violation of civil rights. I’m not even sure if they Mirandized her,” the lawyer stood his ground.

“Fuck off Sweeney. I told you, if I need you again I’ll contact you,” Lester hissed at the lawyer who read the room and left hurriedly.

“What did you tell them?” Darnell hovered menacingly over Caprice.

“I want a drink and a cigarette and I want to renegotiate the terms of my employment,” Caprice said to Lester, ignoring Darnell.

Lester pressed a button on the intercom on his desk and spoke into it and then turned to Darnell.

“Purse!” he held out his hand and Darnell snatched Caprice’s clutch out of her hands and tossed it to Lester.

Lester opened the clutch and shook out the contents on his desk. Caprice’s ‘essentials’ scattered across the desktop: her ‘burner’ phone, an empty soft pack of Marlboro menthol lights, a lighter, a pack of Extra chewing gum, a small tube of KY jelly, the key to her apartment, a small atomiser of Dior Poison perfume and a crumpled twenty.

Lester snatched up the burner and removed the SIM. He opened a drawer and took out a pair of scissors and cut the SIM into tiny pieces then he removed the battery and smashed the phone to pieces using a silver desk ornament. He scooped the bits and pieces into the trash.

“Now we can talk,” Lester said, just as a pretty young hostess dressed in her livery of a black cocktail dress, black hosiery and black high heels entered the room carrying a silver tray on which rested an ice bucket, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, crystal glasses and an opened package of Marlboro Menthol Lights.

Lester motioned at the hostess and she put the tray down on an end table next to where Caprice lay sprawled. The hostess turned to leave when Caprice reached out and took her wrist.

“I want to get out of this horrible tracksuit. That uniform you’re wearing? Do you have an extra one in your locker?” Caprice asked.

The hostess looked at Lester questioningly and he nodded at her.

“I do but it won’t fit you. Dee is about your size, I’ll fetch it for you shall I?” the hostess said coldly.

“Yes please and when you see Dee, whoever she is, thank her very much,” Caprice said dismissively and reached for the cigarettes.

She lit one up and poured herself a drink.

“What did you tell them!” Darnell continued to hover menacingly over Caprice.

“I told you on the phone. I told them jack shit, just like you taught me,” Caprice blew smoke in his face.

“But they told me plenty,” she hissed scathingly.

Darnell drew back his hand to strike Caprice but she didn’t flinch. She just glowered at him. Daring him to hit her.

“Enough Darnell. Give us the room please. I want to speak to Caprice privately,” Lester waved Danell away and he sculked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Caprice had been briefed to tell just as much of the truth as possible so as not to get caught in a lie. She had worked out a believable scenario with Julie and Bobby and she launched into it.

“The cops told me that you used me as bait to lure Shareen into a trap. They told me that I was expendable and that I was supposed to die with him so there would be no witnesses to the murder. That’s why the cops kept a guard on the door and nobody except the nurse and the doctor were allowed in,” Caprice began her tale.

“I wasn’t sure if they were bullshitting me to get me to talk but I remained schtum. I know that cops lie to get you to talk but what they said made sense. They offered me the usual inducements, you know, protection, witsec, that sort of bullshit but I told them to go fuck themselves,” Caprice tapped ash into the ashtray and paused to take a drink.

“They told me that if I was released I would probably be killed. My mother and father have disowned me and nobody would even know I was missing. I’m a girl forgotten. Even if my body was found it would be identified as Cameron Capshaw, some boy who had runaway in his teens,” Caprice grimaced at Lester and continued.

“However… I have an insurance policy. My aunt Rose is a teacher at Balwyn High School and although she and my mother hate each other, Rose always had a soft spot for me,” Caprice’s smile widened.

“I called my aunt Rose straight after I called Darnell and told her that if anything happened to me that the cops should go looking for Lester Slocum and Darnell DeAngelo. Now, disposing of a tranny hooker with a rap sheet is one thing but murdering a respectable high school teacher with ties to the community is another, don’t you think?” Caprice sat up in her chair and stared pointedly at Lester.

“I had aunt Rose write it all down and put it somewhere safe, just in case anything should happen to either of us,” Caprice stopped talking when the hostess returned with a black cocktail dress on a coat hanger, a pair of black high heels and a package of Hanes Silk Reflections black pantyhose.

The hostess dropped the items on the couch next to Caprice and left without saying a word.

“You're a lot smarter than either I or Darnell gave you credit for. What else did they tell you?” Lester seemed amused rather than angry.

Caprice put our her cigarette and stood up and shucked out of the tracksuit and disposable paper panties, not caring about Lester sitting across the room behind his desk. She sat back down and unwrapped the pantyhose and rolled up a leg and put her toes into the stocking and began to roll it up her calf.

“Some bullshit about the Lebanese mafia and Mexican drug dealers. I didn’t really pay much attention because that didn’t matter to me,” Caprice put the toes of her other foot into the stocking and stood up to pull the pantyhose up her legs.

“You said something about renegotiating the terms of your employment?” Lester got up from behind his desk and came over to the couch and poured himself a drink.

“Look I don’t want much. I’m not a greedy girl. I want off the streets. I want to work here as a hostess with adequate compensation. No more being a twofer, dealing drugs in back alleys and sucking cocks on my knees behind dumpsters,” Caprice tucked her cock between her legs and pulled the pantyhose gusset tight to keep it in place and then she stepped into the dress and smoothed it out.

It wasn’t a perfect fit but it looked ok. She slipped her feet into the high heels and they fit snugly.

“If I’m questioned again I’ll keep saying that I have no recollection about what happened and that I definitely can’t recall what the shooters looked like,” Caprice rubbed that bandage on her upper arm to make her point.

“You know the hostesses here deal drugs and sell their asses too,” Lester sat down on the couch and took a cigarette from the package and lit it.

He lit another one and handed it to Caprice. He hadn’t blinked when Caprice stripped in front of him and changed into the hostess uniform. All of the girls who worked for Lester as hostesses were required to strip in front him so he could see if their bodies were acceptable. He already had one transsexual girl working as a hostess because he needed to cater to all his clients needs. The girl in question had been unsuitable to use as bait for the Aziz hit because of her links to the club and that fact that she was older, bigger and had huge tits which was not what Shareen had been looking for.

“Yeah but they just deal to VIPs in the club and fuck in big comfortable beds,” Caprice countered.

“This aunt Rose; will she keep her mouth shut?” Lester gripped Caprice by the wrist and squeezed.

“Unless something happens to me, yes,” Caprice tried to struggle free but Lester kept his grip on her wrist.

“Ok, I saw you naked and I like what I saw: young, nubile, little tits, great ass, long legs and a pretty face. More girl than boy but not overdeveloped like some transsexual porn star. You got the street smarts but you need to lose the street attitude if you want to work here. This is a classy joint,” Lester smiled at her but kept hold of her wrist.

“You still on PrEP? Are you clean?” he asked.

“Yeah and I told you I was tested at the clinic two days before you hooked me up with Shareen,” Caprice bristled.

“I’m not talking about that. I mean are you clean down there, right now?” Lester looked pointedly at Caprice’s crotch.

“Yeah I douched this morning before I left the hospital. I figured that Darnell would put me straight back to work,” Caprice was not about to tell him that her anus might be clean but it was clotted with Bobby Keen’s semen.

“Go over to my desk. Get a condom out of the second drawer and bring it back with the KY. I like to try before I buy, if you know what I mean,” Lester let go of her wrist.

“Show me what you got. You can take the foreplay as rote,” Lester unzipped his fly.

Caprice leaned in to kiss Lester but she was spared the indignity of having to kiss the man who had set her up when he pushed her away and put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to her knees.

“I told you to take the foreplay as wrote and get on with it,” Lester unleashed a healthy seven inches of turgid flesh.

Caprice licked the swollen appendage, working her tongue along the shaft, flicking his fraenulum with the tip of it then she took Lester’s cock in her mouth and began to suckle. The precum began to flow and she swallowed the salty-sweet nectar as her lips slid up and down the shaft while her tongue swathed his glans. She heard Lester gasp and she felt his cock begin to undulate. This audition had been easier than she thought; Lester was about to cum.

But she was mistaken.

Lester tapped her on the head and put the unwrapped condom and the tube of lubricant in her hands. Caprice smiled and she put the condom in her mouth, holding it with her teeth and tongue and then she put her lips on his rampant cock and took the appendage in her mouth, rolling the condom along his shaft with her lips until the she had the ring fitting snugly around the base of his penis.

“That was novel and very enjoyable,” Lester quipped and dragged Caprice to her feet and led her over to his desk.

“Lubricate it! Or don’t. I can stand the screams if you can stand the pain,” he grinned at her wantonly.

Caprice uncapped the KY Jelly and daubed a dollop of her on her fingers and coated Lester’s phallus with the emollient, working her fingers up and down the shaft.

“Careful! Let’s not have an accident shall we?” Lester hissed and slapped her hand away from his groin.

He spun Caprice around and bent her over his desk, rucking up her dress. Her creamy-white buttocks were swathed by the opaque black nylon pantyhose. He ran a finger down the crease between her buttocks, snagging the nylon adjacent to her sphincter, tearing a cock-sized hole in her pantyhose, then he unceremoniously poked his rampant, latex-sheathed erection into her ass.

His cock slid past her sphincter and all the way inside her until she felt Lester’s pubis pressing on her buttocks.

“That went in easy but damn you’re still tight,” Lester hissed as Caprice contracted her anus around his turgid flesh.

Caprice smiled. The remnants of Bobby’s emissions had eased the way for Lester’s cock and she was able to accommodate him easily. She pushed back against him as he gripped her hips and began to fuck her earnestly. She moaned appreciatively as his glans pressed on her prostate and his shaft stimulated her sphincter. She became tumescent and tented her pantyhose but didn’t touch herself. She didn’t want to cum with Lester inside her. She was doing this for his pleasure not for her own.

She gyrated her buttocks and pushed out to meet his thrusts, grunting every time his cock slammed into her, sighing when he withdrew. Lester was impressed with Caprice’s expertise and appreciation and he began to fuck her harder and faster, wanting to climax quickly but still enjoying the experience. He felt his climax begin to build as his lower belly slammed into her cushiony buttocks and his sac bounced against her pantyhosed taint.

Caprice grinned when Lester pulled her back against him, ramming every scintilla of his angry cock inside her. He held her so tight that his fingers dug into her hips. She felt his cock spasm inside her as he orgasmed. He stopped thrusting and held her still as his cock quivered and shuddered inside her. Lester hissed profanities as his climax consumed him.

And suddenly, just like that, it was over.

Lester pulled his cock from Caprice’s ass, the tip of the condom filled with creamy semen. He unrolled it and tossed it into the waste bin next to his desk. He took a handful of tissues from the dispenser on his desk and wiped his cock and put it away. Caprice snatched a handful of tissues, rolled down her pantyhose and wiped between her legs. When she had wiped away the excess lubricant and the remnants of Bobby’s sperm that had escaped her sphincter during the vigorous fucking she pulled up her pantyhose and pulled down her dress. She was heading back to the couch to pour herself a drink when Lester stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going? This my office. I have work to do. Go and see Andrea in her office. She’ll show you the ropes, put you on the payroll and give you a work roster. Her office is at the head of the corridor where the entertainment suites are located. You keep your trap shut about Aziz, keep your head down, work hard and you will make a comfortable living,” Lester took a cigarette from the pack on the tray but didn’t offer one to Caprice.

Caprice gathered her things off the desk and put them back in her clutch, snatching up the package of Marlboros. She rolled the tracksuit around the canvas shoes and tucked them under her arm. She paused at the door as she was leaving.

“How did I do?” she smiled sweetly at Lester.

“You did just fine. I’m sure that you will be a popular attraction. My clientele are big tippers so you should make plenty,” Lester lit his cigarette.

“One final thing. What about Darnell?” Caprice asked.

“Darnell DeAngelo works for me on the streets. You now work directly for me here at the club so he’s got no claim on you. He’ll have to find himself another tranny hooker to work his corners. I’m sure there are plenty like you at the bus station or walking the streets lost and alone. You made a vocation of it so they can too. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out,” Lester went back to his desk and pressed a button on his intercom and spoke to Andrea.

After he spoke to Andrea he picked out a burner phone from several he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk and punched in a number.

“Call off the hit, I’ve decided to keep her alive for now. You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I haven’t decided if she’s a friend or an enemy yet. We’ll talk again soon,” Lester hung up and punched in another number.

“Meet me at the usual place,” he breathed into the phone and hung up.

The cell phone received the same treatment that Caprice’s burner had suffered.

*****

Andrea Foster turned out to be a tall, forty-something woman who was dressed in a burgundy skirtsuit and killer heels. She was supermodel thin with jet-black glossy hair that hung down to her shoulders. She had a permanent resting-bitch-face and was all business.

“Don’t sit down, follow me. Leave your purse and those clothes here. Lester told me you were coming,” Andea alighted from behind her desk and seemed to glide across the floor.

“You don’t look too bad in that dress although your makeup and hair need some work,” Andea said over her shoulder, pacing quickly down the corridor.

They walked past the entertainment suites, an even twenty, ten each side, and came to a door marked Private which Andea entered without knocking.

“The girls call the entertainment suites the workrooms but you must never use that term in front of the clientele. They call this the ‘breakroom’ but that’s not what it is really,” Andrea came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the room.

A row of lockers ran down one wall and a large workbench fitted with a vanity mirror fitted above it was located on the opposite wall. Cosmetics, hair brushes and other essentials were scattered across the table. This was where the girls changed and did their makeup and touched it up between clients.

“The bathroom,” Andrea pointed a long red-fingernailed digit at an ensuite that was fitted with two showers and two toilet cubicles.

A stack of fresh towels sat on a small table, a laundry basket beside it for used ones. Caprice noticed that both toilets were plumbed with thermostatic chrome douches.

“It’s not only the trans girls that have to endure anal sex,” Andrea saw Caprice looking.

Caprice suppressed the urge to snap back and continued the tour. Andrea produced a key ring from somewhere in her suit, she wasn’t carrying a purse.

“This key here is for your locker. Keep a change of clothes, plenty of underwear, hosiery, toiletries, cosmetics and whatever personal items you bring to the club in the locker. You may carry a small clutch while are working for your cigarettes, mobile phone and so on. Don’t use your mobile phone while you are with a client and keep it in your clutch when you are in the suites working. Keep these keys in your clutch.” Andrea tossed the keyring to Caprice who snatched it out of the air.

“What are the other keys?” Caprice asked but Andrea said nothing and left the breakroom.

Caprice followed her down the corridor.

“Pick a door, the locks are all keyed alike,” Andrea waved her hand at the doors to the entertainment suites lined up along the corridor.

Caprice had no intention of picking suite twelve, too many bad memories, so she picked door ten.

“Use the largest key on the ring to open it but before you do look up at that little LED above the door. If it’s green the room is free, if it’s red it’s occupied. All the suites are identical so when you bring your clients back here just select a free suite and go about your business, you will not be disturbed,” Andrea smirked at Caprice.

The LED above door ten was green as were all the LEDs because Bedazzled was not yet open for business. The room was exactly the same as the room in which Shareen had been killed however the heavy drapes were pulled wide open. When the room was in use the curtains would be closed and it would be discreetly lit my mood lighting and scented candles. A small wet bar was set up along one wall and the divan faced an enormous screen, now blank, on which pornography would be playing when the room was in use. A satin-sheeted king bed took up nearly half of the room. A closed door led to a tiny ensuite bathroom.

“I believe you know the layout. The ensuite bathroom is for the clients, you use the bathroom in the breakroom to clean up and refresh yourself after each client. The clients pay for your time; I keep track of that and charge them accordingly. We don’t pool our tips here so whatever your client tips you in cash you keep. Keep the money in your locker; not everyone here is honest,” Andrea explained.

“Come over here,” Andrea beckoned Caprice over to the wet bar.

Behind the bar was a small safe set into the wall. It was the same size as those found in hotel rooms where guests kept their valuables.

“Use the third key to open it; the safes are also all keyed alike,” Andrea pointed to the safe.

Caprice opened the safe and was not surprised to find deal bags of cocaine, ecstasy and speed and a pill bottle full of Viagra.

“Besides the sex, your job is to push those little treats on your clients. Use the skills you learned on the streets, but of course you refine those skills in keeping with these sumptuous surroundings. The Viagra they can have for free. The rest sell at market price. Cash only and you bring it to me before you make yourself ready for your next client. I check the contents of each safe after we close and balance the books so don’t even think about filching any for yourself or pocketing the cash,” Andrea said pointedly.

“I’ve worked for Darnell DeAngelo for over a year now and I never once ripped him off,” Caprice sniped.

Andrea waved at her flippantly and gestured for Caprice to follow her back to her office. Caprice locked the safe and fell in behind.

“You go to this doctor this afternoon for a checkup and he will top your PrEP. Then you go to this couturier where they will fit you out with four uniforms and two pairs of heels, the cost of which will be deducted from your first pay check,” Andrea handed Caprice two business cards.

“You start work the day after tomorrow provided your health check comes back clean. Do something better with your hair and makeup. I’ll call you,” Andrea said dismissively and slid back behind her desk.

“I don’t have a phone. Lester destroyed it,” Caprice replied.

“Get one. Here is my card. Text me your number when you get it. I don’t need to tell you to be discreet,” Andrea handed Caprice her business card featuring the club logo printed on expensive cardstock.

Andrea made a show of looking at her Patek Philippe rose gold watch than she took an envelope out of her desk drawer which she handed to Caprice.

“You better get going or you’ll be late for your doctor’s appointment. Here is some walking around money until your first pay check. That includes the money that Lester owes you for servicing the late Mister Aziz. Make sure you dryclean that dress before you return it to Dee. Leave the heels with the couturier, she’s off this week so she wont need them,” Andrea waved at the door dismissively and Caprice took her cue to leave.

Caprice was allowed to leave the club unescorted. Freddie was sitting on a stool behind a concierge stand reading a newspaper. He got up to unlock the door.

“You one of us now I’ve been told. Welcome to Bedazzled,” he gave her a welcoming grin and Caprice realised that despite his ruggedness, he was a handsome man.

“Do the staff get freebies from the girls?” Caprice asked.

Freddie just smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders.

She was now one of the staff and in a weird kind of way that excited her. She paused outside the entrance and looked in the envelope and was surprised by the amount of cash it contained. It was only then that she realised that she failed to ask how much the job paid. She dropped the tracksuit and the canvas shoes in a trash can on the street.

The doctor gave her an STI test kit and sent her to the bathroom to take her own oral and anal swabs, then he took blood and asked her a bunch of questions about her health. He gave her a rudimentary examination and looked at the wound in her arm, replaced the dressing and gave her antibiotics and a three months supply of PrEP. He was very businesslike and spoke very little.

The couturier turned out to be a small boutique on the edge of the freezone called Philipe Fashion and as soon as Caprice walked in, still wearing Dee’s black cocktail dress, a dainty, balding man in his fifties appeared at her side and led her through the boutique into a small workroom at the back of the shop.

“Not quite a conventional physique but I’m sure I have something that will fit,” the man studied Caprice with a practiced eye, not even bothering with the tape measure draped a round his shoulders.

“Take off those heels,” he lisped as he flicked through a rack of identical black cocktail dresses and selected one.

“Try this,” he handed Caprice the dress but did not point out a changeroom so Caprice slipped out of the dress she was wearing and slipped on the one the tailor had offered her.

“Hmm, close but not quite,” the tailor hovered around her, tugging at the dress, getting Caprice to raise and lower her arms, pinning fabric in some places and marking it here and there with chalk.

That was when Caprice noticed that the dress was an unfinished template. The skirt, sleeves and neck had not been hemmed nor the bustline finished. After a bit of tugging and pinning he stood back and appraised his work.

“That looks better. How does it feel?” he asked.

Caprice agreed that it did fit better after being adjusted and the tailor helped her out of it, not the slightest bit concerned that all she was wearing were pantyhose. He handed Dee’s dress back to her and had her sit on a stool and try on several pairs of black high heel pumps until they found a pair that fit perfectly. He produced a second pair and put them aside.

“Andrea told me that I should leave the heels I was wearing here,” Caprice held up Dee’s heels.

“Of course. Dee is coming in next week to pick up a couple of dresses and I’ll give them to her then,” the tailor took the shoes from Caprice.

“Aren’t you the slightest bit curious why I turned up here dressed in another girl’s dress and shoes, sans underwear?” Caprice could no longer stand the tailor’s solemn fastidiousness.

“Andrea called to tell me you were coming of course and set up an account for you. I would have thought that you would know by now that if you work in any capacity for Mister Slocum, you don’t ask too many questions,” the tailor clipped.

Then he broke into a smile.

“Philipe Munsinger, owner and tailor of this fine establishment. I’ll have your dresses ready for you tomorrow,” the smile stayed on his face.

“The cost of the clothing and shoes will be deducted from your pay check, Andrea pays me directly but I’m sure she explained all that. If you see anything in the boutique that you fancy then you pay me directly,” Philipe made a hand gesture towards the front of the store.

“Why do all the hostesses at Bedazzled have to wear the same black cocktail dresses? Don’t get me wrong, they are beautiful dresses but it seems a little strange,” Caprice asked.

“When Lester first opened Bedazzled his hostesses wore their own eveningwear. This of course led to some of the girls arguing and some jealousy as the girls competed for the clientele. Andrea solved the problem by introducing a uniform of sorts, putting the girls on a level playing field, having to use their charm and wit rather than how they were dressed to procure and entice the more affable and affluent clientele,” Philipe explained.

“It’s also easier to keep track of the hostesses in the crowded club,” he added.

“Of course your unique attributes will only be enticing to certain clientele so you won’t be on the same playing field as the other hostesses, so to speak. The girls there can be very competitive, especially when a large gratuity is likely on offer,” Philipe smiled, amused at his quip.

“I’ll put the other pair of shoes in a bag for you shall I? I’ll throw in four pairs of Hanes Silk Reflections pantyhose on the house. The Hanes are part of the uniform too. I sell them at a discount to the hostesses. You buy your own bras and panties,” Philipe made a notation in a little black book.

“You seem to know a lot about the club,” Caprice ventured.

“I know as much as I need to know. You’ve guessed already that Bedazzled is not the kind of establishment that I frequent,” he made an oblique reference to his homosexuality.

Caprice had had a big day and as she made her way through the streets of the freezone carrying the bag containing her new heels and pantyhose she was looking forward to locking herself in her little apartment, taking a long shower and chilling out. She stopped at a bodega to purchase necessities. The elevator wasn’t working in her building so Caprice had to climb the stairs to her cheap little one bedroom apartment. She wondered if she could afford a better place with the money she would earn working at Bedazzled and almost forgot that the only reason she had the job was to spy for the cops. She realised that she likely wouldn’t be working there long enough to find out.

She entered her apartment and found Bobby Keen sitting in her only lounge chair smoking a cigarette. Of course the cops had duplicated her key while her effects were held as evidence.

“Make yourself comfortable why don’t you,” Caprice quipped as she kicked off her heels, dropped the paper bag with her new heels on the floor and put her clutch and the sack of necessities on the small kitchen counter.

“You look quite fetching dressed like that. You obviously got the job,” Bobby smiled at her and beckoned her over to him.

Caprice fell into his lap and Bobby was reminded of how tiny she was as she snuggled into him and kissed him.

“Is this business or pleasure?” Caprice pointed with her toe to a large valise on the floor beside the chair.

“Both hopefully. Julie had me drop off the suitcase full of clothing that the FBI purchased you to wear at the safehouse and the valise is full of technical equipment. I swept your apartment for listening devices but it’s clean. We’ve had a loose tail on you and you are not being followed. Darnell DeAngelo is back supervising his corners. It looks like Lester Slocum believes your story; so far at least,” Bobby explained.

“You had me followed? I thought only you and vinegar tits knew that I was undercover?” Caprice bristled.

“The agent tailing you has no reason to know why. The FBI has flunkies who do that sort of legwork all the time. Julie, or vinegar tits as you called her, that’s a new one by the way, had the tail put on you for security. He’s gone now and won’t be back. It was just a precaution,” Bobby stroked Caprice’s leg.

She kissed him and his hand drifted further up her leg and under her dress.

“You're not wearing panties,” he smiled.

“The idiot lawyer forgot to bring underwear to the hospital. This dress is borrowed but nobody borrows underwear. It’s not like I haven’t been out and about sans panties before is it?” Caprice bit his earlobe but Bobby got down to business.

He took out his cell phone and set up the record function and eased Caprice out of his lap and she sat across from him on the tiny couch.

“Tell me everything that happened today after you left the hospital,” Bobby was his professional self.

Caprice told him everything, leaving out only the sex she had with Lester Slocum in his office. There was no need for Julie or Bobby to know about that. After she had updated Bobby she went to the paper sack and took a package of Marlboro Menthols from the carton she had purchased and lit up. She leaned back against the counter and studied Bobby who was fiddling with his phone.

“Now that I’m inside Bedazzled, how long do you think I’ll need to work there before I can enter witsec?” she reached into the sack and extracted a bottle of JD and held it up to Bobby, silently asking him if he wanted a drink.

“Julie will be along in about half an hour and she’ll be pissed if I’ve been drinking. You have one sweetheart,” Bobby said and Caprice poured herself a generous shot.

“As to your question, it depends on how long it takes you to gather enough information about Lester Slocum and Daniel Huntsinger that can help convict them. I know it’s not ideal,” Bobby got up and went over to Caprice and placed his hands on her hips.

She leaned in and kissed him and he returned the kiss. She felt him thicken against her belly.

“What we have going between us. It all happened so fast. You didn’t seduce me just to get me to turn CI did you?” Caprice took another sip of her drink and Bobby kept his hands on her hips and looked longingly into her eyes.

“I think you may have seduced me,” Bobby chuckled.

“Let’s not get caught up too much in the machinations of what we have between us; it’s early days yet,” Bobby leaned in to kiss her but Caprice turned her face away.

“It’s very convenient for you though. I work as your CI and help build a case and you get to fuck me on the side,” Caprice reached for her cigarette.

“Where is all this coming from?” Bobby looked genuinely concerned.

Just then the door opened and Julie Sanderson entered, the leather carrycase slung over her shoulder banged against her hip. She was holding a paper sack in her free hand. She was wearing one of her many skirtsuits.

“Are there any cops in Balwyn that don’t have a fucking key to my apartment?” Caprice hissed and swallowed her drink.

“Just Bobby and I. Is the place clean?” Julie addressed Bobby.

“No bugs, no hidden cameras, no wiretap,” Bobby breathed.

“I brought Chinese food. We can eat while we work. Tell me where we’re at,” Julie continued to ignore Caprice.

“I think Caprice should do that,” Bobby gave a conciliatory nod at Caprice.

“The short of it is, I now work at Bedazzled as a hostess. As far as I can tell Lester bought my story,” Caprice poured herself drink.

“She’s not being followed nor is she under any surveillance as far as we know,” Bobby agreed with Caprice.

“Plates? Cutlery?” Julie finally turned to Caprice who nodded at the kitchen cabinets.

Bobby set the table while Julie unpacked the food. Caprice smoked her cigarette and drank her drink, amused at the two cops playing house in her apartment.

While they ate Julie took out her laptop and connected it to the hotspot on her phone. She turned it around so that they could all see the screen. There were two screen shots. One of a man and the other of a woman.

One was an attractive white woman with sharp features, her short blonde hair styled in a blunt-cut pixie bob with bangs. She wore dark eye makeup and blood-red lipstick. The other was of a man who could have been her twin. He was handsome with the same sharp features. His platinum-blonde hair was long and straight.

“Are these the two that shot Shareen Aziz?” Julie asked.

“Yes. And one of them shot me, or have you forgotten?” Caprice replied smugly.

Julie chose to ignore the sarcasm and pointed to the screen with a chopstick.

“Taryn and Alister Blithely. Some people think that they are brother and sister but they are not. They are cousins,” Julie pointed to the pictures on the screen.

“These two are professional assassins. Guns for hire with no allegiances except to themselves. They are suspected of killing several high profile criminals, even a couple of corrupt politicians who for one reason or another upset the criminal enterprises who had corrupted them. They have been on the FBI’s radar for a while now, but with nothing concrete against them we are unable to apprehend them. They are also wanted for questioning in several other countries,” Julie used chopsticks to pick up ho-fun noodles and eat them.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and turned to Bobby who was chewing kung pow chicken.

“Caprice’s ID would never stand up in court. The Blithely’s defence attorneys would rip her apart. She’s a convicted drug dealer and prostitute and she saw them in a darkened room whilst lying underneath the victim,” Bobby said.

“We don’t want her to ID the killers in court but now we know that Lester Slocum and Daniel Huntsinger hired the Blithely’s for the hit. This wasn’t just the Ortega cartel taking out a rival,” Julie added.

“You guys keep talking about me like I’m not here. Once again I’m a girl forgotten. Just a tool in your tool bag,” Caprice said sulkily.

“You are not just that,” Bobby reached across and took Caprice’s hand in his.

“You are the key to this whole investigation. If we can prove that Huntsinger paid for the hit on Aziz and that Slocum set it up we will have them both on conspiracy murder. A life sentence hanging over their heads in likely to induce them to talk. Remember what we are offering you in return,” Julie took Caprice’s other hand and gently squeezed it.

While Caprice, Bobby and Julie were eating Chinese food and celebrating Caprice’s new job at Bedazzled, the Blithely’s were busy elsewhere.

Spencer Johnstone’s Brownstone Apartment, Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, New York

Spencer Johnston was lying naked on his huge bed watching a tall platinum blonde woman dressed in a tight-fitting red satin dress pour drinks at the antique walnut drinks cabinet he had bought at auction for twenty thousand dollars only last week. It was an extravagance he could afford. He made his money brokering deals that were high risk but with high rewards but never used his own money. He circled the wealthy elite like a shark and made investments on their behalf and took a healthy percentage of the profit and lost nothing if the deal went south.

He’d met the blonde at The Palace, an exclusive venue well-versed in handling events in the world of arts, fashion, entertainment, business and technology, where he was attending a party where a pecunious socialite was celebrating a very successful business deal he had brokered on her behalf.

The crowd at the event was full of gorgeous looking young women but this woman stood out. With her blunt-cut pixie bob, sharp elfin features, slim build; her perky tits and pert ass displayed perfectly in the figure-hugging gown, her long legs sheathed in black Wolford nylons and her feet shod in spiked ‘fuck-me’ heels, she towered above the tiny, gaggling ‘influencers’ who flocked to such gatherings.

Spencer had turned on the charm and after working his charismatic wit, being careful not appear smarmy, he had managed to lure the woman back to his apartment. He could hardly believe his luck. The woman turned towards him, smiling her brilliant seductive smile, holding two martini glasses before her as she walked seductively towards the bed. She offered Spencer his drink, chinked glasses with him and they both swallowed their Martinis. The woman took the glasses back to the drinks cabinet and joined him on the bed.

When Spencer reached for her he found that he was having difficulty controlling his arm then it fell uselessly to his side and he was unable to move it. Suddenly he realised that he was unable to move his body at all and was unable to speak. The only part of his body he could move was his eyes. His autonomic nervous system continued to regulate his breathing and heartbeat but he was otherwise paralysed.

Taryn Blithely checked Spencer’s vitals then she left the room and let her cousin Alister into the apartment. Alister was dressed in a bespoke evening suit and Spencer remembered seeing him briefly in the background at the party. The tall handsome man with straight, shoulder-length silvery-hued hair was hard to miss, even in a crowd. Spencer’s breathing became laboured and his heart raced as he followed the couple with his eyes as they approached the bed. Taryn climbed onto the bed and lay down beside Spencer and stroked his forehead.

“It's a derivative of Rohypnol but far more powerful. I slipped it into your drink. Don’t worry it wont kill you and you will remain conscious,” Taryn whispered into his ear.

“We have been sent by Francis Capricci. You remember him. You fleeced him of two million dollars, telling him that you would invest his money wisely and that the returns would be unimaginable and untraceable and then you informed him that you had lost it all on a bad investment,” Alister announced as he placed the small valise he was carrying on the nightstand.

“Don’t worry, we don’t need you to talk or even to sign anything, we just need your face and fingerprint and fortunately for you we need you alive for it to work. The funds transfer program you use is quite sophisticated,” Alister produced a tablet from the valise and brought up the program he wanted.

“Now I have the transfer all set up, all I need you to do is look here. Oh sorry you can’t can you. Here, let me help you,” Alister placed the tablet in front of Spencer’s terrified eyes and the facial recognition program did its thing and opened a small window at the bottom of the screen for the second factor identification.

“Very good Spencer. Now if you will just allow me…” Alister took Spencer’s hand in his and placed Spencer’s forefinger on the pad.

“There, now we are in to where we need to be. I just need to…” Alister fiddled with the screen.

“Okey Dokey. Mister Capricci will soon have the money back that you stole from him with a very generous stipend attached. The little ones and zeros in the programs will take a little while to transfer the money from your account to Mister Capricci’s so what shall we do to amuse ourselves while we wait my love?” Alister addressed his cousin.

“We can always fuck. You know that it always turns me on when we do wet work and it looks like Mister Johnston’s Johnson is fully invested. I think he’d like to watch,” Taryn had been stroking Spencer Johnston’s penis and nibbling his earlobe during the transaction and despite his terror, Spencer’s autoerotic functions had responded to her ministrations and his penis remained fully erect.

“Sounds like a great idea,” Alister said and began to remove his clothing, carefully hanging his suit and shirt on the antique French provincial valet stand.

“You have some beautiful furniture Spencer,” Alister commented as he fastidiously removed a speck of dust from the shoulder of his suit jacket.

Taryn had slipped out of her red satin gown which she lay on the ottoman at the bottom of the bed. Alister studied her exquisite body as she stood there dressed in a red satin strapless brassiere, matching bikini panties, black Wolford holdup stockings and stiletto heels. He moved into her and began to kiss her whilst slowly removing her bra and panties. He slid a finger inside her shaved labia and found her already wet.

Both Alister and Taryn had long, slim, incredibly fit bodies that were sinewy rather brawny. They were both athletic but were more inclined to exercise by long distance running, cycling and swimming, rather than building bulk in the gym. Standing side by side they could be mistaken for twins; he incredibly handsome and she exceedingly beautiful, with their unblemished alabaster skin and blonde hair, fine elegant features, poise and athleticism.

They were both narcissists. Alister’s parents had died in a plane crash when he was still an infant and he had been taken in by his uncle and aunt who had raised the two children almost as sister and brother. Alister and Taryn bonded immediately and became almost inseparable. They began to exhibit narcissistic behaviour early in their development and it flourished when they entered adolescence. They displayed all the traits: an inflated sense of self-importance and a need for excessive admiration, lack of empathy, a disregard for the feelings and needs of others, self-entitlement and manipulative behaviour. Everybody else in the world was an extra in the movie that was their life.

Taryn’s parents were rich socialites and they doted on Alister and Taryn, often referring to them as ‘the twins’, and imposed no boundaries on them which allowed the twins to express their narcissism unabated. Their friends adored them and the twins relished the adulation, whilst at the same time they secretly despised and manipulated their acolytes, often turning their friends against each other. Contrary to what some people think, not all psychopaths become killers but Alister and Taryn developed a taste for it. When mentally torturing their friends became boring they began to physically torture animals and then that too became boring.

They moved onto stealing cars and breaking and entering, just for the thrill of it and discovered that they were good at it, never leaving any clues and given their social status were never considered suspects. Then they progressed to killing transients. It was so easy They would steal a car and pick up hobos and runaways along the byways using Taryn as bait. What red blooded male wouldn’t accept a ride from a pretty young blonde girl? Alister would hide in the back and incapacitate the unsuspecting victim using concoctions they found on the internet and tested on animals or sometimes Alister just slit the victim’s throat. After they had finished with the victim they would dispose of the body and burn the car.

Afterwards they would have the best sex ever and sometimes they might even stop to fuck whilst torturing their bound and gagged victims. Such was their self involvement that sexual gratification was achieved mostly by having sex with each other. In adulthood they discovered that their skills were a commodity and they advertised their services as killers for hire on the dark web. Their reputations garnered the respect of people who operated outside the law and occasionally needed to remove a rival or someone that was in their way. The two killers eventually evolved into assassins of high repute.

They were so much alike that fucking the other ‘twin’ was like fucking themselves which fed their narcissism. Both used sex as a means of manipulation and control and they would often seduce others in order to manipulate them. Independently wealthy, (they had killed Taryn’s parents by setting fire to their cabin at Lake Tahoe and making it look like an accident) well educated and extremely athletic, they evolved into perfect killing machines, often committing murder for hire for the thrill of it rather than the need for money, although the money helped fund their extravagant lifestyle.

Taryn lay down on the bed and Alister knelt between her legs and Taryn turned Spencer Johnstone’s face sideways so that he could see what they were doing.

“Oh yes!” Taryn hissed when Alister lapped at her labia and used the tip of his tongue to manipulate her swollen clitoris.

“You’re so wet down there darling. So sweet and juicy,” Alister whispered as he lapped at his cousin’s cunt.

“I told you… wet work always gets me wet, but you know that,” Taryn guided Alister’s face to her intimate parts.

He removed his face from between her legs and began the long journey up her body with his lips and tongue. He traced his tongue along her long legs, stroking her nylon-sheathed calves and thighs with his fingertips, listening to her moan. He lapped at the crease where her thighs joined her torso, deliberately avoiding her mons despite Taryn’s desperate attempts to guide his mouth back to her cunt. Her circled her bellybutton, his teeth clinking on the silver piercing there, and slowly lapped and licked his way across her flat belly until he came to her bountiful mounds.

He pressed his cock against his cousin’s thigh, relishing the feel of her expensive stockings rubbing on his cock as he suckled her teats, sucking, nipping, licking and teasing them as Taryn writhed under him. His cock was fully erect, straining from his crotch, dribbling precum but he avoided slipping it inside her, knowing he would climax almost as soon as he did. He continued his journey up Taryn’s body until he was fully astride her. He closed his mouth on hers and kissed her deeply and Taryn wrapped her arms and legs around her cousin, scissoring her thighs so that her sleek nylons rubbed against his flanks which she knew drove him wild. She scoured his back with her high heels when he nudged his cock between her legs but refused to enter her.

They were both painfully close to extremis. They crushed their lips together, sucking the essences from each other as their tongue’s intertwined and they pressed their bodies against each other, becoming one body and soul. Only then did Alister slide his engorged appendage inside his cousin’s warm, wet sheath.

Taryn bit his lip, drawing blood as she felt Alister’s long thick phallus fill her void. She Kegelled, her vaginal contractions milking her cousin, attempting to draw his quintessence into her body. Their lovemaking went beyond sexual pleasure, they bonded and exchanged their life forces when they copulated. Taryn writhed beneath Alister who steadied into a uniform rhythm, withdrawing his penis almost fully and then driving it inside Taryn, grinding his pubis into hers to stimulate her clitoris.

Taryn’s orgasm washed over her like a rogue wave enveloping her body and she pounded her heels on her lover’s lower back and raked his shoulders with her nails whilst she sucked on his mouth, quivering and writhing beneath him, her cries and obscenities stifled by Alister’s lips and tongue. He drove her into the bed and released inside her and Taryn felt his cock quiver, the flood of his spend filling her, triggering a second orgasm.

They lay locked together and rode their orgasmic high until it piqued and began to slowly dissipate into a caring loving embrace that they only ever felt in each other’s arms.

Alister’s phone pinged and he climbed off his cousin and leapt from the bed.

“Oh, you poor thing. You only got to watch and I know how much you wanted to fuck me,” Taryn teased Spencer Johnston.

Despite his paralysis she could see the need in his eyes; his cock was rampant and dribbles of pre-ejaculate ran down the shaft. She stroked it, but only once, further teasing and torturing their captive.

Alister came back to the bed, still naked, the phone to his ear. He spoke briefly into the phone and then set it down on the nightstand next to the bed facing Spencer Johnstone. He opened the hinge on the phone case so that it was propped up facing the bed.

“I’m sorry old chap. It seems that Mister Capricci is very upset with you and has offered to double our fee if we perform certain services for him. He wants to watch, so unfortunately the last thing you will see before you die is Mister Capricci’s face,” Alister turned Spencer’s head on the pillow so that he was facing the phone.

“Taryn, be a love and move your clothes off the ottoman. This is likely to get a little messy and I don’t want you to get blood on that lovely gown,” Alister said as he retrieved a small black surgical instrument case from his valise.

Spencer Johnstone’s eyes widened in terror as Alister produced a scalpel and a pair of forceps from the instrument case. He fiddled with the phone and brought up the FaceTime app.

“Can you see everything ok?” Alister spoke into the phone.

Taryn had put on her underwear but not her dress. Things were going to get bloody and Alister was right that she didn’t want to stain her dress. She and Alister would shower before they left Spencer’s apartment to wash off the gore. She sat on the edge of the bed, an amused smile on her face as she lit a cigarette and watched the abject horror appear on Spencer Johnstone’s face when her cousin held the scalpel next to his face.

When Spencer Johnstone’s body was discovered the next day, the medical examiner had to use his fingerprints and DNA to identify him because his face had been peeled off.

About an hour after they had taken care of Spencer Johnstone the Blithelys were driving along I-495 when Taryn’s phone pinged. They were heading to the house they had inherited in The Hamptons and Alister was driving at exactly the speed limit so as to not get pulled over. They were a couple that were not easy to forget and they didn’t want to bring any attention to themselves. Taryn put in her earbud and answered the call, listened for while and then disconnected the call.

“We have to go back to Balwyn,” Taryn said to her cousin.

“Have they changed their mind about taking out the little tranny prostitute?” Alister asked.

“No. It’s something else. Something more interesting,” Taryn left it there; she would explain later.

Caprice Capshaw’s Apartment - Balwyn, Texas

Julie Sanderson produced what looked like an ordinary everyday Android mobile phone from her carrycase.

“This is your new phone. It looks and operates exactly like any other S25 Samsung mobile phone but it has some unique features. The first of which is that if you press and hold the on/off button for more than five seconds it will send an SOS to mine and Bobby’s phones, along with your exact location,” Julie held up the phone.

“Squeezing the volume button for three seconds will activate the recorder. Pressing the so-called Bixby button will activate the video camera. The tech guys have programmed mine and Bobby’s mobile numbers into the phone so all you need do is dial one for me and two for Bobby and press the call button. The phone is traceable to both Bobby and myself at all times, even when it appears to be switched off,” Julie explained.

“You can send text messages to us the same way. Just type one or two into the address bar. I want you to text us at eight in the morning, twelve noon and at night before you retire. Just send a thumbs up emoji if you like. Consider it a welfare check,” Julie held out the phone to Caprice.

“Let’s get you familiar with it right here and now. This your lifeline,” Caprice took the phone from Julie.

Caprice worked the phone for a while until she was familiar with the special features. She also populated the contacts list with the numbers for Bedazzled, including Lester Slocum and Andrea Foster’s office numbers and the number for Philipe’s Fashion.

“Program in the numbers for your hairdresser, your favourite takeout restaurants, your taxi service and other legitimate numbers that you come across in your day to day activities. Your days of carrying a burner are over. You are now have legitimate employment working as a hostess at Bedazzled and just like the other girls, it is normal that you would carry a phone for business and personal calls,” Julie said.

“If anyone picks up the phone and plays with it, it will look and function just like any other S25. Any video or sound recordings you make using the special features are uploaded to a secure cloud storage site that only Bobby and I have access to. Nothing recorded by the special features will be stored on the phone. Also, you are a twenty year-old woman so make sure that you take plenty of selfies and pictures of everyday things using the phone’s ordinary camera feature. That is to be expected,” Julie continued.

Bobby cleared away the plates and poured everyone a drink, even Julie who seldom drank on the job.

“Ok, I think that’s enough for one day. I’d really to take a shower and get a good night’s sleep,” Caprice said after they had finished their drinks.

“Pour another round Bobby. I have some news,” Julie said sternly.

Bobby looked perplexed but did as he was told and when they were all seated at the table with their drinks in front of them, Bobby and Caprice smoking Marlboro menthols, Julie cleared her throat and began.

“I have some intelligence from my side of the house,” Julie looked meaningfully at Bobby, indicating that the intel had come from the FBI and that Bobby was not yet privy to it.

Julie took a cigarette from the package and lit up, surprising Bobby, but it was a tell that she had something important and likely dangerous to say.

“Daniel Huntsinger is in Balwyn. He met with Lester Slocum today. Our sources also have intelligence that Mateo Ortega boarded a private jet in Mexico City which had a flight plan terminating in Austin,” Julie said sombrely.

“Well that’s great! The Feebs can arrest him when he lands,” Bobby said excitedly.

“That’s just it, we can’t. We don’t have the hard evidence… none that we can present in court anyway. While the FBI can operate outside the U.S. through its legal attaché program, it does not have law enforcement authority to make arrests without the consent of the host country. Once Ortega lands in the US we could arrest him but the intelligence we have gathered has been, how shall I put this? It has been collected without the consent or knowledge of the Mexican authorities and law enforcement agencies,” Julie sighed.

“You guys have been running a rogue, unsanctioned, operation,” Bobby wasn’t really surprised but he was pissed.

“Look. My team were after Shareen Aziz and the Lebanese mafia but you know what happened. Aziz got sold out by Huntsinger and with Aziz’s demise, there went my operation. But it led us to Ortega and the deal we believe he made with Huntsinger to import cocaine and traffic girls and illegal workers,” Julie explained.

“Wait a minute! Is this operation even sanctioned?” Bobby said angrily.

“Yes! Of course it is! How else could I make the offer of relocation and the other inducements to Caprice without the cooperation of my agency and the US Marshalls service,” Julie snapped back.

“But it’s in the grey area,” Bobby blew smoke out of his mouth in a huff.

“Look… you're my liaison with the Balwyn PD so local law enforcement are involved as far as the drug dealing and prostitution are concerned. I’m here for the transnational crime aspects of the case involving the Ortega cartel,” Julie tried to calm Bobby down.

“All those furtive phone calls you were making at the safe house. Volunteering to stand watch all night so you could work your witchcraft. You shifted the whole focus of the case away from nabbing Slocum and Huntsinger to getting Ortega,” Bobby fumed.

“Hang on you two. How the fuck does all this affect me?” Caprice looked confused.

“Nothing has changed as far you are concerned. If Huntsinger is going to meet with Ortega somewhere where he has complete control of security it will be at Bedazzled. Your role hasn’t changed Caprice,” Julie tried to calm things down a little.

“I’d like you both to leave now. Go somewhere else and have your squabbles, I’m going to bed. When you have something definite for me to do just let me know. I have one free day to myself before I start work at Bedazzled and I’m going to make the most of it,” Caprice stood up, downed the remains of her drink and stormed off to the bathroom.

“I can’t believe your whole operation hinges on a single CI,” Bobby fumed as he gathered his coat and equipment bag.

“Yep. A young, vulnerable, transgender prostitute who you happen to be fucking. You’re in this as deep as I am Bobby. You better keep your girl focussed on the job,” Julie sniped.

“And you better keep her safe!” Bobby snapped back.

Julie left the apartment ahead of Bobby. Bobby was supposed to wait at least ten minutes after Julie left and then he would follow and he sat at the table and smoked, listening to Caprice in the bathroom: the shower running, cabinets opening and closing, water running in the sink.

When Caprice came out of the bathroom she was surprised to find that Bobby was still there. His coat was lying on top of his valise and he had poured himself another drink and was smoking. She was naked except for a satin bathrobe and felt almost exposed. Bobby had never seen her fully naked or without makeup and she was self-conscious. Bobby thought that she looked like a tiny porcelain doll.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had left. I’m tired and I want to go to bed,” Caprice leaned against the kitchen counter and poured herself a nightcap.

“I’m sorry that things have worked out how they have. Julie has changed the game,” Bobby sighed.

“Not really that much for me. I now work at Bedazzled instead of hawking my ass on the streets. I have a steady income. My role hasn’t really changed that much. I need to get as much information as I can, give it to Julie, and when she’s happy I’ll be whisked away to witsec and a new life with a new identity affirming my gender as female,” Caprice downed her drink with one swallow.

“Let me show you to the door,” Caprice made a show of walking to the front door and opening it so that Bobby could leave.

Bobby got to the door but made no attempt to leave. He pulled Caprice into his arms and tried to kiss her but she turned her face away. She had never been with a man while naked and without makeup. She was always either fully or partially clothed. The closest she had been to being naked with a man was lingerie and heels and she always wore cosmetics.

“Don’t,” she whispered and tried to squirm away.

“I don’t feel like a woman like this,” she whispered.

Bobby pulled her tighter and forced a kiss on her.

“You are beautiful. You are feminine. You are my Caprice and I adore you,” he whispered in her ear.

“Let me put on some makeup and lingerie at least,” Caprice whimpered.

Bobby didn’t let her go. He kissed her again and then he picked her up in his arms and kicked the door closed. He carried her to the bed.

He lowered her gently onto the comforter and Caprice’s robe fell open revealing her slender frame, small breasts, flat belly and her cock curled up in her crotch which was fully shaven. Her hair was still wet from the shower and it clung to her cheeks and forehead and cascaded on the pillow. Her face was waiflike, her eyes sparkling blue, her cute button-nose, high cheekbones, her lips full and pink. Caprice self-consciously pulled her robe closed but Bobby snatched it open and lowered his face to hers.

He kissed her and caressed her cheek then his hand moved down her swan-like neck to her tiny breasts where he found her nipples erect. She tasted of toothpaste and mouthwash and smelled of bath soap. She was as natural as nature intended her to be and Bobby was not in any way offended by it. On the contrary and surprisingly, he found her naked body and unadorned face intensely arousing.

His hand drifted down to her flat belly, a finger circled her bellybutton, and then he continued down to her pubis and gently cupped her genitals.

“Don’t,” Caprice whispered.

“You don’t have to,” she whimpered.

Bobby kissed her deeply and stroked her flaccid cock which came to life in his hand. Caprice didn’t particularly want sex but she’d spent all of her short adult life giving sex to men, regardless of her inclinations. Bobby’s kisses and his caresses had lit a smouldering ember in her which she felt turning to flame when he began to stroke her cock. Caprice was worried that she looked too boy without her makeup and trappings but that didn’t seem to concern Bobby.

Bobby had thought the same thing initially but Caprice no longer looked like a boy dressed a girl. Her face was angelic, her little titties suited her slim frame, she had developed enough curves in the right places. She wasn’t quite yet a woman but she wasn’t far away from it. She was certainly more girl than boy and she reminded Bobby of some of the femboys he looked at on the porn sites he visited. He was not repulsed by her cock. In fact as it began to engorge to his touch he found himself becoming even more sexually charged.

He slipped his tongue into her mouth and began to stroke her thickening penis as she squirmed on the bed, half trying to fight Bobby off but also becoming sexually charged as he massaged her hardening appendage. Bobby smiled when he felt a freshet of pre-ejaculate leak from her cock and he used it to lubricate her shaft and glans. She moaned into his mouth and her tongue found his as her penis became fully engorged. She stopped struggling and surrendered.

Bobby kissed her deeply, stroking her hard cock with one hand whilst the other tweaked her nipple. She began to quiver again but not because she was trying to fight Bobby off but because she was enraptured by the circlets of pleasure radiating from her cock and her breast. She was a little disappointed when Bobby removed his hand from her breast but she sensed what he was doing: unbuckling his pants and unzipping his fly.

Bobby freed his hard prong from his underpants and put his hand back on Caprice’s breast, tweaking her nipple as his other hand stroked her cock which was leaking a continual flow of precum. She gasped into his mouth and began to lift her buttocks off the bed, encouraging Bobby to stroke her cock harder and faster. Bobby snaked his tongue into her mouth and flittered it, squeezing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, furiously kneading her quivering cock, sensing that she was close.

He stifled her moans and held her down as she bucked and writhed on the bed as her cock palpitated in his hand and a rope of jism exploded from the eye. It was quickly followed by another, then another as Caprice ejaculated. Bobby’s tongue in her mouth, his fingers twisting her nipple and viciously stroking her cock elicited a shattering climax. Her hot spend spattered on her belly and saturated Bobby’s hand as he milked every drop of semen from her quivering organ.

Caprice at first thought that their tryst was over but she was mistaken. Bobby let go of her cock and her tit and grabbed her calves. He scooted between her legs and rested her ankles on his shoulders then scooped up the viscous milt from her belly and rubbed it on his cock and in her sphincter and then slid his cock all the way inside her tight anus.

The semen partially lubricated the passage of his organ as he entered her but even so, Caprice at first it felt like she had been split in two because Bobby’s cock was fully engorged and rock hard. He covered her mouth with his and drove his tongue into her, just like he had driven his cock into her tight void, and she felt his whole body shake and shudder and his cock explode inside her.

He held her tight but didn’t thrust, his cock just kept juddering and ejaculating and Caprice could hardly believe it when her own cock erupted a second time. Her anus undulated and milked Bobby of his essences, the base of his cock drawing forth ringlets of intense pleasure from her sphincter and his glands pressing on her prostate causing a tsunami of gratification to course through her body.

They lay in each other’s arms unmoving and let their orgasms peak and subside. Their frenzied kissing became soft and sensual, Caprice enjoying feeling Bobby’s weight on her body and his cock inside her.

“You can’t stay the night,” Caprice murmured.

“I’d like to but you're right, I cant. Too risky,” Bobby kissed the tip of her nose.

“I’m sorry if I forced myself on you,” Bobby said feeling a little guilty.

“Did it look like I didn’t enjoy it,” Caprice smiled up at him.

“Well…” Bobby let it go at that.

It was little awkward when Bobby untangled himself from her body and pulled up his pants and Caprice smiled at Bobby’s awkwardness.

“I better go,” he leaned in and kissed her.

Bobby grabbed his things and paused at the door.

“Enjoy your day off tomorrow and don’t forget to check in,” Bobby said as he hit the light switch and closed the door behind him.

Caprice was exhausted and couldn’t be bothered getting out of bed to clean up. She fell asleep with her semen drying on her belly and Bobby’s spend dribbling from her anus. She would change the sheets tomorrow.

Caprice slept soundly, waking at eight in the morning to send her welfare check text and then went back to sleep. She awoke mid morning and showered and did her makeup before heading out. Caprice wore the black lycra leggings she had worn at the safehouse. She wore a simple blouse and sneakers, putting on a topcoat before she left the apartment. It was good to leave her domicile not dressed in hooker garb.

She dropped Dee’s dress at the drycleaner and went to a nearby coffee shop and ordered pancakes and black coffee. She took her hormones and PrEP with a glass of water. She pulled out her new phone and started to populate the contacts list and took a couple of selfies eating brunch and sent her noon welfare check text to Julie. She texted Andrea her new number and thirty minutes later Andrea replied. Caprice had passed her physical examination and would start work at Bedazzled the next day at five.

She called Philip Munsinger at Philipe Fashion and was told that her dresses would be ready for collection at two. It was strange having a free day and she spent it relaxing, walking around the city, spending some cash on clothes, taking selfies here and there to populate her phone. She made her way to Philipe Fashion and Philipe had her try on her new dresses and satisfied that they fitted her perfectly she went on her way.

Back in her apartment she arranged her four new black cocktail dresses in the wardrobe and set the two pairs of black high heels under them. The Hanes Silk Reflections were in the drawer with some new panties and brassieres she had purchased that day. She received a text from Julie telling her that she and Bobby would not be coming around for a couple of days. They didn’t want to draw attention to themselves.

She ate a small dinner in front of the TV watching Narcos on Netflix and had to admit that she was a little disappointed that Bobby wouldn’t be coming around. She gave some thought as to what exactly was going on there. Was Bobby just fucking her to keep her onside? She didn’t think so. Bobby was too attentive and affectionate. He seemed like a good guy… as far as cops went anyway.

Caprice want to bed early, straight after sending her welfare check. She noticed that any texts she sent to or received from Julie and Bobby disappeared from her phone within seconds of being read or sent. Those FBI geeks knew what they were doing. She drifted off to sleep wondering what the next day would bring.

To be continued

Bedazzled Nightclub - Downtown Freezone, Balwyn, Texas

Caprice led the man through the crowded nightclub then upstairs to the VIP area and along the corridor that led to the entertainment suites. Andrea nodded at Caprice curtly as she passed by. Caprice looked up at the LEDs above the doors; seven of the suites were in use. She selected room five, above which the LED glowed green but switched to red when Andrea activated the timer. The john would be charged $300 per hour. The booze in the suite was free as was everything else except for the narcotics. Caprice was wearing the livery that all of Bedazzled’s hostesses wore: black cocktail dress, black hosiery and black high heels.

The man was in his fifties, a little older and fatter than most of the crowd who patronised Bedazzled but he wasn’t here to listen to the DJ or make inane small talk with the affluent young partygoers. A friend had told him about a new, pretty, young transgender girl whom Slocum had added to his stable of hostesses. The man, who used the pseudonym Barry, was an investment banker with a penchant for the finer things in life and exotic women. A few weeks ago at the same establishment Barry had spent a pleasant evening with Jewel, who was a tall, buxom, big-titted, big-assed, big-dicked, caramel-skinned, transsexual but when he heard about the ‘new girl’ he just had to try her.

He was not disappointed when he met Caprice at the bar. She was the antithesis of Jewel. Caprice was sylphlike and waifish with almost alabaster skin, blue eyes, small nose, high cheekbones, tiny-tits but long legs and a pert backside. The tight-fitting all-black ensemble ameliorated her better features. Caprice had only been working in Bedazzled a few days when word got around about her and she found herself a popular attraction. On the advice of Andrea she had changed her hair again. Gone was the streaked wavy do, replaced by an off-the-shoulder jawline bob which was a sleek, precise cut that grazed her jaw, creating a bold, polished sophisticated look but somehow made her look even younger. She had copied Julie Sanderson’s makeup style: toned down but with bold red matte lipstick, which her new hairstyle and black ensemble emphasised to her advantage.

Barry was in no rush and took a Four Roses bourbon on the rocks while Caprice drank vodka neat to take the edge off and steel her nerves. Barry was her fourth ‘client’ of the evening and she was tired and glad that he would be her last. Caprice opened the safe and offered Barry an array of party drugs and he selected a half-gram Ziploc bag of cocaine for which he paid cash. Barry finished his drink and snorted a couple of lines, Caprice declined the offer to imbibe. They got down to business and Caprice helped him undress and hung up his pants, shirt and jacket and gave his genitalia a quick fondle to get things started.

He pulled Caprice into a tight embrace and kissed her whilst his hands went straight to her ass which he squeezed and fondled and Caprice felt his cock begin to engorge and press against her belly. On the streets such intimacy would never have been condoned, it was a quick blowjob or ‘wham-bam-thank you-man’ then off to the next customer. The evening she had spent with Shareen Aziz had educated her as to how to deal with the more sophisticated clientele who frequented Bedazzled.

She returned the kiss and rubbed her body against his, ensuring she pressed her meagre breasts against his chest. Barry’s hand slid under her dress and he fondled her buttocks through the layers of satin and nylon. Caprice kissed him deeply and massaged his penis to full tumescence hoping to move things along, which was quite successful to some extent. Barry pushed down on her shoulders and Caprice dutifully fell to her knees and began to work on his hard cock and dangling scrotum with her lips and tongue. Barry sighed and entangled his fingers in Caprice’s hair to encourage her.

She took him in her mouth and began to slowly suck his phallus, feeling it quiver and tasting the precum leaking from the eye. She alternated between stroking his buttocks and fondling his sac as she sucked his cock with a steady rhythm.

“That’s it Caprice, suck my cock and look up into my eyes while you do it,” Barry pulled on her hair, guiding her mouth up and down his steely appendage.

‘This is going to easy,’ she thought, as she used all of her oral skills to bring Barry to extremis.

Barry looked down at her pretty, angelic face. Her blue eyes sparkled and her red lipsticked lips slid expertly up and down his shaft. Her tongue was tickling his fraenulum and Barry knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. He further entangled his fingers in the pretty tranny’s hair and saw her wince as he tugged on it a little harder. The look of pain on her face combined with her expert fellatrix skills sent him over the top and he pushed his phallus all the way inside her mouth and unleashed a torrent of warm musky sperm.

Caprice gagged on the cock that she was deep-throating but kept looking up into Barry’s face. The tears in her eyes were real, brought about by her gag reflex, but the sorrowful look on her face was an act. She knew that some guys really got off on thinking they were hurting little girls like her with their big manly cocks. The truth was that she had fellated far bigger cocks than Barry’s. She obediently swallowed most of his issue but let some dribble out of her mouth and run down her chin. Seeing their cum on a girl’s face really got some men off and Barry was no exception as the last of his ejaculate spewed into Caprice’s mouth.

“Good girl,” Barry smiled down at her as Caprice cleaned Barry’s genitalia with her tongue.

He helped Caprice to her feet and kissed her deeply which surprised Caprice; she didn’t think he was the kind of man who would like the taste of his own emissions.

“Would you like another drink?” Caprice asked as she dabbed delicately at her face to clean off Barry’s drying semen.

“No, I’m going to do a couple more lines and then I’m going to fuck you. Get me another baggie please hun, then fix your hair and face,” Barry replied.

Caprice sighed but made sure that she showed no outward signs of displeasure. Her job was to ply Barry with drugs and keep him in the room as long as possible. Barry was a heavy coke user and his tolerance was high. He snorted the last of the lines from the half-gram he had initially purchased and Caprice got him his second half-gram and put down on the table. It was good quality product and Barry peeled off three ‘Benjamins’ and handed them to Caprice who put them in the compartment of her clutch purse where she put her drug money. Andrea had warned her about the consequences of getting the count wrong.

She used the ensuite bathroom to fix her makeup and brush her hair and returned to find Barry lying on the bed watching a teen femboy being railed by a big black cock on the huge television screen, stroking his cock, trying to get it hard again. The volume was low but you could see that the girl was grimacing and hear her whimpering because of the pain caused by the size of the big black cock being hammered into her ass.

“I like em’ young. Just like her,” Barry commented and nodded at the screen, then he patted the edge of the bed.

“Should I undress?” Caprice asked.

“Fuck no! I love that little black dress and those heels. Are those pantyhose or stockings?” Barry asked.

Since starting work at Bedazzled, Caprice had found that some of the hostesses preferred to wear Hanes Silk Reflections stockings rather than pantyhose for practical purposes. That wasn’t an option for Caprice who needed the support of her pantyhose to keep her tuck in place.

“Why don’t you find out Barry?” Caprice smiled seductively at him and sauntered over to the bed.

She stood before him and Barry lifted the hem of her dress and ran his hands up her legs, her nylons hissed in the silence of the room. He ran his fingers across the front panel of her satin panties.

“It always amazes me how you girls can hide your cock like that,” Barry chuckled and ran his fingers along her perineum where he found Caprice’s cock semihard, tucked along her taint.

“You like that?” the cocaine had fuelled Barry’s lust and he was close to being fully engorged again.

Caprice leaned down and kissed him and he pulled her on the bed and rolled her on her back. He rubbed his cock on her panties as he kissed her and pawed at her, pulling her dress up over her head. He threw it aside and attacked her meagre breasts with his mouth, sucking on her nipples through the gauzy, transparent cups of her brassiere. He pawed at breasts whilst ferociously kissing her, finally ripping away her brassiere and suckling on her immature teats.

“God, you are so young and tiny and sexy. I can’t wait to fuck your ass,” Barry growled.

He rolled Caprice over so that she was kneeling on the bed and pulled down her panties, exposing her prim buttocks sheathed in the silky Hanes pantyhose. He tugged them down a little and grabbed her cock and began to furiously stroke it. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience for Caprice who never liked it rough but she played along and feigned a moan. She reached for the lubricant which was strategically placed under the pillow in every room along with packages of ultra-thin condoms. She tossed the lubricant and a condom behind her, anticipating what was to come next.

“I don’t need the rubber. I know all of Andrea’s girls are clean,” Barry grunted as he lubed up Caprice’s ass and shoved a finger inside her.

“Fuck you're tight!” he hissed as he improved his erection whilst fingering Caprice’s ass.

Caprice grimaced as Barry worked two fingers inside her, ramming them in and out of her, somehow thinking that she might like that. Caprice thought rightly that Barry had been turned on by watching the femboy porn and was mimicking what he had witnessed on the screen. Thankfully, after a minute or two of fingering her anus, he ripped his fingers from her hole and placed his cock against her sphincter and pushed.

Barry was not particularly well endowed but Caprice screamed when he rammed his cock inside her. Part of it was the result of real pain but mostly it was to fulfill Barry’s fantasy. Barry grabbed Caprice’s hips and began to ravish her anus, grunting with exertion. Caprice jittered her feet rapidly on the bed and squealed, playing along with Barry’s chimaera of subjugation.

“Don’t bitch about it! I know you love having my big, hard cock inside you,” Barry hissed.

“Oh my god it’s so big Barry. I don’t think I can take it,” Caprice mimicked the femboy in the movie.

“I want to see that pretty babyface while I rape your ass,” Barry grunted, pulling his cock from Caprice’s anus with an audible plop.

He rolled her over and jammed a pillow under the small of her back and mounted her. His cock slid inside her and he began to fuck her vigorously, smothering her cries with sloppy passionate kisses. Caprice raked her nails down his back, breaking a French tip in the process and she dug her heels into his flanks and writhed beneath him.

Barry was in heaven having this tiny, pretty, young trans-girl under him, her nylons slithering against his skin, her nails gouging his back, her mouth, sweet and wet, her tiny titties pressed against his hairy chest. He could feel that she was hard against his belly. He guessed that Caprice was roleplaying for him. That was her job. But feeling her hard cock pressing against his fat belly meant that she must be enjoying it.

Caprice had not orgasmed that night; she was saving herself for Bobby but Barry’s cock was hitting all the sweet spots. His glans rubbing on her prostate, his shaft lighting up the sensitive nerves inside her anus and the thick base eliciting delightful ringlets of pleasure from her sphincter.

Barry fucked her harder and drove her into the bed and Caprice held onto him, gasping as she returned his kisses, raising her buttocks off the bed to meet his thrusts, her cock quivering as it rubbed against his fat, hairy belly.

Barry issued a tremendous bellow and pulled Caprice tightly against him as his cock juddered and undulated inside her, his issue flooding her rectum, his tongue flittering in her mouth. Caprice orgasmed with him, her cock spasming as an explosive orgasm originating in her anus, spread to her penis and then along her body. Her scalding jism spattered on Barry’s belly as he continued to ejaculate inside her.

As soon as his orgasm diminished Barry wasted no time dismounting, leaving Caprice trembling and gasping on the bed.

“Fuck that was awesome! I’ll be back for more, that’s for sure,” Barry toddled over to his pants and peeled two hundreds off a roll of banknotes and tossed them on the bed.

She escorted Barry back to the VIP section, handing over the drug money to Andrea who scanned ‘Barry’s’ American Express Centurion Card to pay for Caprice’s company. It would appear as an innocuous transaction on his bank statement. Finished with the formalities, Caprice made her way to the breakroom to clean up.

She’d made five hundred dollars in tips off her four clients that night. Business was booming but she was well aware that she was not here to make her fortune and she wondered when she might be in a position to get the information she needed so that she could disappear into witsec. She hoped that it was soon because even though working in Bedazzled was a lot better that working the streets, it was no easier. In some ways it was more difficult because Caprice had to pretend that she liked having sex with the clients. To be fair, every now and then she did, but most of her clients were men who wanted to ride her long and hard and that was a chore.

Glancing at her watch she hoped that Barry was in fact her last customer of the evening. What Caprice didn’t know was that at that very moment circumstances were afoot that would bring about Caprice’s wish.

The Executive Suite – Four Seasons Hotel, Austin, Texas

Mateo Ortega reclined in a leather armchair while he sipped Don Julio tequila and listened to what Daniel Huntsinger had to say.

“Gentlemen… it looks like we have an agreement. Mateo will bring in girls to work for us and also the agreed quantity of high grade cocaine. The product will cross the border at the Los Indios Free Trade Bridge and will be transported on routes we have established through the Chihuahuan Desert, then along Route 87 south east of San Angelo and then onto our safehouses in Balwyn where it will be cut and sent out to our distributors,” Daniel Huntsinger liked to grandstand.

“My compadres here will handle the distribution,” Daniel waved his hand at four besuited Americans sitting around the table.

“I would just like to interject here. Once the merchandise crosses the border, my organisation’s obligation is completed and I expect payment, regardless of whether the goods arrive at their final destination,” Mateo Ortega said reverentially but his meaning was clear.

“Of course. We have already agreed on the price,” Daniel suppressed his annoyance at being interrupted.

“And the Lebanese? What about your deal with them?” Mateo continued anyway.

“As you know, we declined their offer. With the untimely passing of Shareen Aziz, they are no longer players in our game. As you know Mateo, Mister Aziz’s demise was a show of faith on my behalf, orchestrated by my business partner,” Daniel nodded at Lester Slocum.

“Before you return south I would like to invite everyone here to a celebration at Lester’s salubrious establishment in Balwyn. Bring your top guys and we can party. Balwyn is a quiet city and we have an arrangement with local law enforcement that what occurs in the freezone stays in the freezone. I have connections in the top brass. No one is going to fuck with us there, it’s a safe space,” Daniel continued.

“Before I accept your offer of hospitality I would like to say something. The reason that the big cartels fail and the Hefe’s end up behind bars or in graveyards, is that they take things personally or they just got too competitive and they leave bodies behind when they have disputes. This elicits the focus of law enforcement,” Mateo paused briefly.

“I don’t want this. Also when law enforcement gets involved they almost always find someone who will talk,” Mateo paused to finish his shot of tequila and pour another.

“This arrangement will make us all a lot of money and should not attract attention except that you had your hitmen take out Aziz in one of your own clubs and I’m led to believe you left a witness alive,” Mateo looked pointedly at Lester Slocum.

“I used the best professionals that money can buy. Have you heard of the Blithely twins?” Lester Slocum entered the conversation.

“Sí, they have an impressive reputation,” Mateo nodded his head in agreement.

“And the girl? The witness?” Mateo shrugged his shoulders.

“A mistake. Everyone thought she was dead but by the time we found out that she was still alive she was in hospital and under police protection. The police offered her inducements to talk of course but she turned them down and you're right I should have taken her out anyway but she’s pretty smart. She has an insurance policy… which by the way I think is bullshit, but I like her mettle so I called off the hit and now she works for me,” Lester explained.

“She’s got balls,” Mateo said and everybody laughed except Mateo and his sicarios, who did not get the joke.

“She has literally got balls,” Lester explained.

“She’s travestido. She’s fucking pretty though and she’s making me a lot of money,” Lester chuckled.

“I would like to meet these Blithely’s and this travestido when I come to your club in Balwyn. After the celebration we get to work,” Mateo Ortega waved his hands dismissively at the other parties and Lester Slocum, Daniel Huntsinger and the four besuited businessmen left the room and went down to the bar to have a few more drinks before their motorcade of limousines left for Balwyn.

Bedazzled Nightclub - Downtown Freezone, Balwyn, Texas

Caprice stood in front of her locker counting her tips and chatting to Jewel who had just arrived at the club. She and Jewel got on well together and both being trans they had a sort of alliance. The other girls could be bitchy with each other, competing for high rollers but Caprice and Jewel serviced a select clientele so they were not considered as competition by the cis gender girls. Jewel and Caprice worked opposing shifts so they didn’t compete for clientele. Jewel being a mature, buxom, mixed race girl who was willing to top, served guys with different tastes to those who preferred the tiny, alabaster-skinned, elfin bottom that was Caprice. A number of other girls were in the breakroom too as it was the midnight shift change.

Andrea Foster entered the breakroom and made an announcement.

“Listen up girls, this Saturday it’s all hands on deck. Lester is hosting a private party and he wants all of his girls here to host. Be here at six and don’t expect to leave before much before sunup. You’ll be paid double for your time so don’t hassle the clients for tips,” Andrea glared at Tiffany, a pretty little thing who despite being twenty-one could pass for fifteen and was notorious for hassling her clients for gratuities.

“No uniforms, it’s formal evening wear and make sure you look your best. Ok let’s get the shift changed and you girls just coming on get out there and hustle. I’ll tell the girls still in the workrooms and those on their days off that their services are required,” Andrea clapped her hands together, indicating for the girls to hustle.

Caprice’s Apartment - Downtown Freezone

Caprice found Bobby Keen and Julie Sanderson waiting for her at her apartment and she could tell that Julie was excited. Bobby had made a habit of dropping around after Caprice’s shift and they usually made love, unless Caprice had a particularly difficult shift and wasn’t in the mood. Their relationship was still a work in progress and neither of them had yet used the ‘L-word’ but it was more than just sex.

“Let me guess. Something big is happening Saturday night because Andrea has told all the girls that they are required for a private party,” Caprice kicked off her heels and dropped her handbag on the breakfast bar.

Caprice poured a drink, a small one, and lit a cigarette and took a seat next to Bobby at the tiny kitchen table where Julie had set up her laptop.

“These were taken in the Four Seasons hotel in Austin. We’ve had a loose tail on Ortega since his private jet arrived but we can’t and don’t want to get too close just yet,” Julie brought up a series of surveillance pictures of Mateo Ortega, usually in company with two or three of his sicarios taken in the lobby of the hotel.

“He was joined by Daniel Huntsinger and Lester Slocum and four other guys who we know are linked to drug distribution and people trafficking,” Julie brought up more surveillance footage.

“The people they traffic are exploited as cheap labour but unfortunately most of the women and girls end up becoming prostitutes,” Julie fiddled with the laptop.

“These guys have a number of safehouses that they use to distribute the drugs and where they keep the girls, who are moved around the country from brothel to brothel,” Julie flicked through the slideshow.

“The girls… are they willing or are they forced?” Caprice asked.

“It’s mixture of both. Some are poor girls looking to make real money the only way they know how to do so, which is by prostitution. Others are girls who have been scammed, believing they were coming to the US to do domestic work as housemaids or nannies,” Julie explained.

“The girls are virtual prisoners and only get a small percentage of the money they make. The traffickers hold onto their passports and keep the girls captive until they have ‘paid off their debts’ which includes not only the money they owe the traffickers for bringing them into the country, but also the costs associated with housing them, feeding them and providing medical assistance. Each girl is a commodity,” Julie sighed.

“Jeeze, I thought I had it bad. Now I really want to help you guys nail these fuckers,” Caprice said angrily.

“That’s great Caprice because the FBI is building a conspiracy case but so far we haven’t been able to get pictures of these guys all together in the same room. Also, anything they say to each other about their crimes will help if you can record it,” Julie sounded excited.

“How did you find out about the party at Bedazzled on Saturday night?” Bobby asked Julie.

Julie looked at Bobby and then looked at Caprice and took a deep breath.

“Caprice is not our only CI. I have another CI working for me but they aren’t in as deep as Caprice is,” Julie admitted.

“And we are finding this out now!” Bobby was visibly angry.

“Bobby you know that the upper echelons of Balwyn PD are corrupt. The freezone is tolerated because it serves a purpose but certain members of Balwyn PD have been taking bribes and kickbacks from organised crime for years,” Julie retaliated.

“For fuck sake, your former Chief of Detectives now works for the Russian mafia!” Julie hissed.

“Penelope Bishop* was a damn fine detective and solved some major crimes and you of all people should not be putting her down!” Bobby hissed right back.

“Who the fuck is Penelope Bishop and what has she got to do with this?” Caprice was over the back and forth arguing between the two cops.

“Just because she was a trans woman cop doesn’t mean she’s an idol of mine. It’s not like all trans women in law enforcement are bosom buddies or something. We don’t have our own Facebook group or meet up every now and then to braid each other’s hair!” now Julie was yelling.

Caprice lit another cigarette and sat back in her chair arms folded, scowling.

“Ok, ok, ok, we are getting off track here,” Julie tried her best to cool things down.

“Our understanding is that Lester Slocum and Daniel Huntsinger are throwing the party to celebrate their alliance with the Ortega cartel and to show off to their business associates. Get as many pictures as you can with your phone and use the recording feature to listen into as many conversations as you can,” Julie had cooled down but her excitement was still evident.

“But be careful doing it. We don’t want you to get caught,” Bobby added and Julie nodded.

“I have something for you,” Julie took a Swarovski Crystal embellished clutch purse out of her briefcase.

“Give me your phone,” she put out her hand and Caprice handed over her phone.

“Pay attention. See, the phone sits here in this pouch. You put it like so, so the camera faces outwards. You can’t see the lens amongst the stones and the microphone will pick up anything within earshot. It’s a lot safer the walking around the club with your phone in your hand,” Julie explained.

“If security checks your purse it will look legit. See the pouch is designed to take your phone just like a lot of purses these days. It even had a little phone logo on the pocket, see?” Julie showed Caprice how the Samsung fit perfectly in the pouch.

“If I get what you need at this party can I get out? Can I get into witsec?” Caprice asked.

“If you get us what we need to make our case, sure. We will never get another opportunity like this. Now let’s go over the details,” Julie said and they spoke about it long into the early hours.

After Julie left Bobby stuck around.

“Do you mind if we don’t fuck tonight honey, I’m bushed,” Caprice slipped out of her tight fitting dress but she was just too tired to worry about removing her makeup or taking off her underwear and nylons before she slid under the covers.

Bobby killed the lights and shucked out of his suit and slid in bed beside her naked and they spooned.

“It’s nice to just cuddle, right?” Caprice whispered, sleep closing in around her.

She woke up late, a thin sliver of light sneaking through a hole in the window blind. She could feel Bobby’s body pressed tight against her, his hard cock pressing into her ass crack, his arms enveloped her. She could feel his breath on her neck, his slow regular heartbeat, the warmth of his body. He was still asleep and it felt nice being held like that. Being in bed with her man just like a normal couple might wake up in the morning and she felt a pang of jealousy for those women who lived regular, vanilla lives. She fantasised about what her life might be like in witsec. Would she meet some regular schmoe who worked a boring regular job who knew nothing of her past? She knew it was a fantasy but she played along with it and daydreamed until she felt Bobby stir.

He kissed her neck and squeezed her tight.

“Morning babe,” he whispered.

Bobby had never stayed the night before and it was nice waking up in bed together. To be honest, except in the early days when Darnell DeAngelo was grooming her, before he turned her out, she had never slept overnight with a man.

Bobby’s hand found her breasts and slid inside the bra cup and his finger circled her areola while he nuzzled her neck. He wasn’t insistent and she found it comforting. Even his cock pressing into the crease between her buttocks, pushing her panties and pantyhose against her taint felt heartening rather than persistent. They were happy to just lie like that.

“You never stayed the night before,” Caprice murmured.

“I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Tomorrow is going to be dangerous but if we pull it off you’ll be free of this life,” Bobby answered.

“And what happens to us then?” Caprice didn’t really want to ask the question but it slipped out.

“We will have to wait and see,” Bobby’s reply was ambiguous and Caprice understood why.

She knew better than to ask questions to which she would not like the answer and she just wanted the fantasy to continue.

Caprice snaked a hand behind her under the coverlet and found Bobby’s hard cock where it nestled between her buttocks and lightly slid her fingertips along it, her long fingernails gently raking the turgid flesh.

“You keep that up and I might take advantage of you,” Bobby nuzzled Caprice’s earlobe and her own cock began to stiffen.

“It’s not taking advantage if I want it,” Caprice wrapped her hand around Bobby’s turgid member and squeezed it.

“You better stop that. I really need to get up and piss,” Bobby reached around and rubbed Caprice’s burgeoning erection, her satin panties rubbing against her pantyhose igniting little freshets of delight in her crotch.

Caprice took her hand off Bobby’s cock but didn’t stray. She used a long fingernail to open a little hole in her pantyhose and slid Bobby’s cock inside the gusset of her panties and through the little hole in her pantyhose and guided his glans to her sphincter.

“Go slow,” she murmured and pressed her ass into his groin.

Bobby slowly impaled Caprice on his cock, languidly easing it inside her, millimetre by millimetre, stroking her cock though her undergarments, until her buttocks pressed against his pubis. Caprice gasped when he was fully inside her. His cock had stretched her tight tunnel, lubricated only be the remains of the previous evening’s sexual encounter with her last john but she didn’t want to think about that.

She purred like a kitten and put one of Bobby’s hands on her breasts and wriggled her buttocks invitingly. Bobby was enraptured by the feeling of Caprice’s satin-shrouded buttocks pressing against his lower belly and her gossamer-clad legs scissoring gently against his. He didn’t move and neither did she. They lay locked together spooning, with Bobby’s penis inside her anal sheath, one of his hands cupping her tiny breast, the other gripping her cock.

It was almost like a standoff as to who would move first. After a while Caprice performed an anal Kegel, undulating her puborectalis muscle, gripping and releasing Bobby’s cock.

“Wow! Do that again,” Bobby uttered.

She did.

Bobby’s cock felt like it was in a snug moist burrow, being cosseted by a satin glove. He moved just slightly, easing his cock back and forth almost imperceptibly but it ignited his ardour. Caprice felt him do it and she Kegelled again and shimmied her ass, encouraging him. Bobby squeezed her cock and began to slowly fuck her, his fingers palpating her nipple and caressing her cock. Caprice pushed her buttocks back into him, encouraging him, a smile on her face, her pleasure centres radiating a warm, satisfying glow.

She turned her head a little so that Bobby could kiss the side of her mouth and Bobby obliged and kissed her gently as he ever so slowly began to fuck her, his cock sliding nearly all the way out of her and then languidly sliding all the way back inside her. Each time he thrust, Caprice wriggled her bottom and scissored her legs so that her satin panties and diaphanous nylons cosseted his sensitive flesh, her anus contracting around his invading member.

Caprice felt her sphincter dilate and contract as Bobby’s cock glissaded in and out of her. When he was fully inside her, his glans pressed adoringly against her prostate, a slow resonant glow diffused through her anus and linked with the sparklets of ardour that coursed through her painfully-hard cock as Bobby stroked and fondled it. The front of her panties were saturated with pre-ejaculate. A persistent lowing hum resonated from her mouth as her passion intensified.

Tempting as it was, Bobby denied himself the pleasure of fucking Caprice hard and fast. There was something wonderfully romantic about just having his cock inside her, barely moving, while Caprice’s anus undulated, gripping and releasing his turgid phallus. The feel of her tiny tit, the slinky softness of her satin panties and gossamer pantyhose, the roundness of her ass, the sweet tenderness of her lips, even though kissing her with her back to him was awkward.

He held on as long as he could until Caprice muttered little nonsensical utterances and began to shake and shudder. Her cock throbbed in his hand and suddenly the front of her panties were saturated with warm, musky milt. When he felt Caprice orgasm he released himself deep inside her and Caprice felt his cock disgorging his essences and her climax peaked.

They lay like that spooning for a while with Bobby’s cock still inside her tight sheath until the urge to urinate overcame him and Bobby had to leave the bed to pee. He came out of the bathroom wearing a cotton bathrobe that he had found hanging on the back of the door and he was disappointed to find that Caprice had gotten out of bed and removed her pantyhose and panties and was wearing her silk robe. She shimmied past him and closed the bathroom door behind her.

There was something like unspoken sorrow between them because their lovemaking had been so tender but neither of them could imagine a future where they would be together.

Caprice’s phone buzzed with an incoming call and Caprice opened the bathroom door and stuck her hand out and Bobby slapped the phone in her hand and went into the kitchen to make coffee. Caprice came out of the bathroom sometime later wearing the silk robe and went straight to the bedroom where she put on fresh underwear and then joined Bobby in the kitchen where he was drinking coffee and reading the Austin American-Statesman on his phone.

“You better skedaddle,” Caprice said as she poured herself a cup.

“Julie Sanderson is coming by to take me shopping,” Caprice answered before Bobby could ask the question.

“I’m pretty sure that Julie knows that we are fuckin’,” Bobby looked up from his phone.

“Yeah, but staying the night? Isn’t that a bit sorta… relationship-ish. That’s what we have Bobby isn’t it? A relationship?” Caprice sidled up to him.

“I don’t know what to call it, but whatever it is, it works,” Bobby refused to be drawn into this conversation again.

“Well, it works for now. If you hurry you can take a quick shower before you leave. Julie will be here in thirty minutes,” Caprice sat at the breakfast bar sipping coffee.

“So… are you two buddies now? Shopping? You really believe that’s why she wants to see you?” Bobby dressed and began to gather his things.

“What? I can’t have friends?” Caprice said evenly.

“Julie isn’t your friend. She’s an FBI agent who is using you as a CI to make a case,” Bobby slipped on his jacket and reached for his phone.

“And you are?” Caprice left the question hanging and Bobby kissed her cheek and left feeling guilty, jealous, and he had to admit, a little ashamed.

He’d given more than a little thought as to what would happen between them when Caprice went into witsec. Bobby had a good life and good job with the Balwyn PD. He had siblings, he had parents, he had friends. What was he going to tell them… that he was in a relationship with a transsexual prostitute and was going to make a life with her? Maybe Caprice going into witsec was the perfect excuse to end their relationship.

Julie arrived thirty minutes later wearing black leggings, a figure-hugging white sweater, white sneakers and her signature red lipstick. With her shoulder-length blunt-cut bob she looked like a soccer mom.

“First time I haven’t seen you in skirtsuit,” Caprice nodded as she snatched up her handbag.

“A suit is de rigueur for FBI agents except when we are undercover or off duty,” Julie gave Caprice a cheeky smile.

Julie had parked her car out front and they drove to the Balwyn Galleria, parking in the underground parking ramp on the floor where most of the fashion stores were located. Caprice explained during the drive that she would have gone to Philipe Munsinger’s Philipe Fashion to get her dress but it might be hard to explain to Philipe who her new friend was. Julie had replied that she was happy to drop Caprice off at Philipe’s and cancel their shopping date but Caprice had a few questions she wanted to ask Julie so they went to the galleria instead.

It turned out that Julie had good fashion sense and helped Caprice pick out a low-cut, strapless, red satin evening gown that was split up one side and had an inbuilt bralette. Being petite Caprice was not that easy to shop for when it came to eveningwear but Julie had a keen eye and spotted the dress in the window of one of the higher-end ladies fashion shops. That said, they were in a galleria and the cost of the dress didn’t break the bank and they found matching pumps in a shoe store nearby. Caprice picked up a couple of pairs of fleshtone, glossy sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose and a pair of red satin bikini panties and their shopping was done.

They took a seat in a booth at Shenanigans, an Irish pub and restaurant, and ordered a pitcher of bloody Marys.

“You're married to a cop right?” Caprice asked.

“Tommy Lomax. He’s a detective with the Camden PD in New Jersey. I kept my maiden name when we married,” Julie answered and guessed where this was going.

“He was a misogynist, transphobic asshole when I first met him but now he’s a pussycat. At least with me he’s pussycat, he’s still an asshole with everybody else,” Julie laughed and Caprice was surprised that she liked seeing this sombre, businesslike woman actually show some emotion.

“Sort of like Bobby Keen,” Caprice offered.

They paused while the waitress put their drinks on the table and took their lunch order. Salads for both of them.

“As I said before, I’ve only known Bobby for as long as you have. He worked with Tommy once and Tommy described Bobby as a drunk and a lecher, but like I said, my husband can be kind of an asshole… a jealous asshole,” Julie smiled wanly.

“But how does it work, you being transgender and all the baggage that comes with that?” Caprice asked.

“Well Tommy and I love each other. My parents and family are very supportive of me and always have been. Tommy has no family to speak of, sort of like you. Our friends either accept me for what I am or they can go fuck themselves. I don’t go around waving a trans pride flag but I don’t hide who I am either. You would be surprised how many people are accepting,” Julie took a sip of her bloody Mary.

“And did you ever consider getting bottom surgery?” Caprice knew that she was stretching their fragile friendship by asking such a personal question.

“Look it’s a decision that each individual has to answer for themselves. Somewhere between twenty to thirty percent of trans women get bottom surgery but there are a lot of factors involved that need careful consideration,” Julie paused to sip her drink.

“For me, I’m happy to keep my genitalia as is. To be blunt, I like having a cock it gives me great pleasure and I like anal sex. Tommy likes me as I am. I asked him about it of course and Tommy being Tommy said he’s more than happy with the one hole I have and he’d kinda miss being able to hang onto my joystick when we fucked,” Julie laughed and Caprice giggled.

“Besides, why risk a robust healthy sex life for the sake of aesthetics. All the bullshit that goes along with vaginoplasty is far worse than having to douche every time you wanna fuck and there is no guarantee that my sex life will improve and highly likely it wont,” Julie explained.

“But that’s for me. You are just beginning your journey. Wait for the hormones to do their thing. Wait until after you have had your breast augmentation surgery and for your emotions to settle. Also, going into witsec is going to create a huge upheaval in your life,” Julie took Caprice’s hand in hers and softly squeezed it.

“I keep dreaming that Bobby will follow me into witsec but I know that it’s silly. If I’m honest I think he’s using me as an easy lay and just experimenting with something different,” Caprice admitted.

“Well you will know soon enough. I want you to clear your mind of these things and keep your head in the game. There are going to be some extremely dangerous people at that party tonight and what you are about to do is extremely hazardous. I only ever went undercover once and I nearly got killed. Tommy saved my life but it was close,” Julie let go of Caprice’s hand.

Their food arrived and Julie changed the subject to more favourable things as they ate. When it was time to leave Julie spoke up.

“Bobby doesn’t know it yet but neither of us will be coming around your place before you leave for Bedazzled tonight; it’s too dangerous to risk the operation now by an inadvertent sighting of us in your company. We’ll be close. Very close. Make sure your phone is charged and reacquaint yourself with the features,” Julie turned the conversation back to tonight’s business.

“Remember, if you are in danger hold the on/off button for more than five seconds and it will send an SOS to mine and Bobby’s phones. But don’t panic. If you activate it before you have the evidence your cover will be blown and the whole witsec deal is in jeopardy,” Julie said staidly.

Caprice gave Julie a wry smile. Julie was not really a friend after all. She was a cop and Caprice was her CI. But that was ok. She had enjoyed the day and now she needed to go home and get her head in the game. Whatever happened tonight could change the rest of her life… one way or the other.

Bedazzled Nightclub - Downtown Freezone, Balwyn, Texas – Saturday Evening

Caprice arrived at Bedazzled at six. She’d rested during the afternoon as best she could but she knew that whatever happened tonight would change her future. She eyed the bottle of bourbon but left it on the shelf. The bloody Marys she’s drunk with Julie at lunch were roiling in her stomach and anyway she needed a clear head. Instead she glued some red rhinestones onto the clutch to make it look pretty and to match it with her dress then she pried off her French tips and carefully glued on long fingernails she had pre-painted with red nailpolish.

She reacquainted herself with the phone and then got ready for the evening ahead. When it was time she ordered an Uber. Her apartment was at the other end of the freezone from Bedazzled and there was no way she was walking there in her evening gown.

Andrea Foster inspected the girls and reissued her warning.

“Tonight is very a very important night for Lester and for Daniel. Everything is on the house but you girls take it easy. By all means party with the clients but don’t get too drunk or too stoned and no hustling… especially you Tiffany,” Andrea glared at Tiffany who looked like a fifteen-year-old pixie and would undoubtedly be a favourite tonight.

Andrea issued further instructions. The security staff would be on the door and patrolling the exterior but in the VIP area, besides the guests, it would be only the girls. They would be working the bar, waitressing and of course they would be entertaining the men. The girls would rotate through the bar and waitress positions so that all the duties were shared and Andrea would be prowling around to make sure that everything worked smoothly.

Lester and Daniel were already in Lester’s office and they came out and gave the girls the onceover and reminded them to be on their best behaviour and to make sure that their guests were well looked after. Only the VIP area would be open tonight, the rest of the club was closed. The idea was to make the party as intimate as possible.

Daniel Huntsinger’s four business associates arrived first along with four of their flunkies, all dressed in suits. The flunkies made a beeline for the bar and were immediately joined by four girls to keep them company. Daniel and Lester and the four associates, kingpins in the US drug distribution and people trafficking business, huddled together to talk business and Caprice took as many pictures of them as she could with her phone.

“Don’t just stand there, get over there and start looking after our guests,” Andrea chided Caprice and Charlotte who were on waitress duty.

Caprice made her way over to the group of men with Charlotte to take their drink orders. One of the men pulled Caprice to him and groped her ass and another did the same to Charlotte.

“Business first please gentlemen; then pleasure,” Daniel growled and the girls were released.

“Drinks gentlemen?” Charlotte asked putting her clutch down on the table.

Caprice had already activated the sound and video recording features on her phone and she put it down beside Charlotte’s so that the two women could take the men’s drink orders. When she and Charlotte returned with trays of drinks they were shooed away as soon as they put the drinks on the table. Caprice pretended that she had forgotten about her clutch and left it on the table, hopefully recording something useful.

Mateo Ortega and five of his associates arrived soon after and Mateo joined the men talking together at the table while his associates dispersed themselves around the VIP area, grabbing drinks and girls. Two of the sicarios took the women they had chosen straight to the workrooms. The entertainment suites would be very busy tonight.

Mateo, Lester and Daniel talked business for a while Then Mateo switched the subject.

“These Blithely twins? Are they coming tonight?” he asked.

“Yes, they will be here a little later,” Lester answered.

“For now why don’t you enjoy the hospitality,” Lester grinned and waved his hands in the general direction of the girls working the floor.

“Also you said the travestido who survived the hit on Aziz will be here,” Mateo looked around the room.

“That little girl over there in the low-cut red dress with the long legs,” Lester nodded in Caprice’s direction.

“Hey, she left her purse on the table,” one of the besuited businessmen said and went to pick it up but Mateo snatched it up before he could.

“Now I have a… what’s the word? Meet-cute? A conversation starter,” Mateo grinned.

“You don’t need a conversation starter Mateo. You can have any girl in here you want,” Lester boasted and Mateo gave him a sneer.

“You treat a girl like a puta she behaves like a puta. You treat her like a lady and she behaves like one. I want to meet this little girl who has the balls to stand up to the great Lester Slocum,” Mateo gave Lester a contemptuous smirk and stood up.

Caprice did the rounds of the club, delivering drinks, removing empty glasses and keeping a watchful eye on her clutch, her heart pounding. The men at the table had obviously finished talking business and they all got up and began to mingle with the girls.

One of Mateo’s sicarios made a beeline for Caprice but Mateo intercepted his underling and directed him elsewhere and he approached Caprice and towered over her. He was tall and handsome with long black hair, dark eyes and chiselled facial features characterized by a square face shape, strong jawline, and a youthful appearance. He was dressed in an expensive black suit and wearing a musky cologne and he exuded confidence.

He was holding Caprice’s clutch.

“You are the travestido who survived the assassination of Shareen Aziz?” Mateo’s smile was beautiful but underneath there was menace.

“Yes, I was hit in the arm,” Caprice turned her upper arm towards Mateo and showed him the angry red scar.

“It hurts to be shot yes? Even when it is a flesh wound,” it wasn’t really a question so Caprice didn’t attempt an answer.

“Lester told me that you stood up to the policía and the federales, even though you saw who shot you and they offered you incentives,” Mateo’s eyes bored into hers.

“They held me incommunicado for two days but I told them jack shit. I come from the streets and the number one rule is you do not rat,” Caprice held his gaze.

“Sí, rattas must be exterminated but Mister Slocum promoted you so he must trust you. I too came from the streets but I worked my way to the top. Where are you going Caprice? Are you going to the top?” Mateo reached into his jacket and took out a package of cigarettes.

“I wouldn’t mind Andrea’s job one day. Get to wear nice clothes, get paid well, work decent hours and not have to fuck men I don’t like,” Caprice answered as casually as she could, even though her heart was racing.

“Men like me?” Mateo gave her a beaming smile and patted his pockets looking for his lighter.

“No. Not you. You are a handsome powerful man. I’m sure that you can have any girl you want,” Caprice poured on the charm but she could see that Mateo was having none of it.

“You left your pretty little purse on the table,” Mateo gave her a sinister grin then upended Caprice’s purse on the bar.

Out fell her essentials which had changed a little since she started working at Bedazzled. Her Samsung S25, a soft pack of Marlboro menthol lights, a lighter, a pack of Extra chewing gum, the keys to her apartment, the workrooms and her locker, a compact, a tube of lipstick, a small atomiser of Dior Poison perfume and a money clip with one hundred dollars in twenties fell onto the bar.

Mateo picked up the phone and inspected it. It was in a bejewelled hardcase, just like any girl Caprice’s age might carry and it looked just like any other Samsung S25.

“Fancy phone,” Mateo put the phone down on the bar and Caprice thought her heart was going to come out of her mouth.

She made a concentrated effort not to look scared or show any outward appearance of fear.

“When I worked the streets, out of necessity, I carried a cheap burner. I’m not that girl anymore. I like nice things and I can afford them,” Caprice smiled up at Mateo but made no attempt to pick up her phone even though she knew that if she did and pressed the on/off button for more than five seconds the cavalry would arrive.

She thought that Mateo was going to pick up her phone again when he reached out but instead he picked up her lighter and lit his cigarette. Then he took a cigarette out of Caprice’s package and lit that and put it to her lips.

“Is there somewhere comfortable where we can go? I want to get more acquainted with you,” Mateo put out a hand and stroked Caprice’s cheek.

“Would you like to go to an entertainment suite?” Caprice asked, inwardly thankful that Mateo had stopped questioning her about the phone.

“Very much so,” his hand drifted down her neck and brushed her breast and then came to rest on her hip.

“Let’s go,” Caprice stuffed her essentials back in her clutch, making sure that the phone went into its pouch the right way, with the lens pointing outward.

Caprice led Mateo into one of the suites.

“Don’t bother offering me any drugs, I don’t use them but I will take a tequila neat,” Mateo said, taking off his jacket.

Caprice put her clutch down on the nightstand because she figured that most of their conversation would be conducted on the bed. She went over to the wet bar and poured a tequila for Mateo and Vodka for herself and came back to the bed where Mateo was sitting naked, smiling at her. He took the drink, appraising her, looking her over from head to toe.

“There is a misconception that Latin men, because of our culture of machismo, will not have sex with anyone who is not genetically female. That’s not true, at least not for me. If I find a person attractive I want to fuck them,” Mateo continued to study her.

“I want you to suck my cock and then I want to fuck you Caprice. Am I being too vulgar?” he smiled at Caprice and finished his tequila.

“Not at all. I prefer it when men get to the point and when they take me into the entertainment suite there is really no need to be obtuse,” Caprice returned his smile.

Mateo held out his hand and Caprice swallowed her drink took it.

“Come here,” Mateo held out his hands and Caprice approached the bed and stood before him.

He put his hands on her shoulders and stroked her pale soft flesh above the strapless gown. Caprice gave him her most beatific smile and Mateo smiled back at her and then he slowly ran his hands down the side of her body starting with her arms, then down to her waist and finally down her thighs. The satin sheath dress whispered against her shimmery pantyhose and Mateo slipped his hand inside the slit and gently stroked her leg.

He began at her knee and slowly worked his way up her thigh, delighting in the texture of her gossamer hose against his fingertips. He paused when he reached the top of her thigh and looked her in the eyes as his fingers drifted across the front panel of her satin panties. He marvelled at the perfect Vee he found there and then he slid his hand between her legs and found out why this pretty young trans woman had no bulge in her panties. Her cock lay trapped along her perineum, held there by the tight gusset of her pantyhose and her form-fitting panties.

Mateo brushed the back of his hand across her imprisoned cock but made no attempt to fondle it. He remained silent, his eyes locked on hers as his hands began the return journey, down her legs, sliding out of her dress, then up the side of her body until they once again rested on her bare shoulders.

Caprice’s eyes were half closed and her breathing was shallow. There was something intensely erotic in the way Mateo explored her body. She could feel her cock thickening, yearning to be freed from its silken trap between her legs. Her nipples had hardened and Mateo was aware of the effect that he was having on Caprice. His cock was hard between his legs but he forced himself to take his time deflowering this pretty young ingénue.

His fingers drifted slowly down her torso, stopping when they found the bodice of her dress. He reached around her and found the zipper, toying with the tab on the slider briefly before he gradually unzipped the bodice and opened the gown. He noticed that the inbuilt bralette had cleverly given Caprice some heft to her breasts that she didn’t really have. Her tits were tiny but well-formed, like budding roses yet to fully-flower. The flesh was delicate and unblemished, alabaster white, which accentuated the coral pink coronas of her areolas, her tiny nipples were erect, the tissue only slight darker than the pigmented circle of flesh surrounding them.

He pressed his thumbs into them and Caprice issued a little breathless mew which turned into a low moan as Mateo gently pinched them and then began to fondle the sweet little protuberances. He leaned forward to suckle them, alternating between each breast, using his lips and his tongue to excite them and further engorge them and then softly nipping them with his teeth.

Caprice entwined her fingers in his long black hair and guided his face from breast to breast, her breathing becoming laboured, her cock straining to get out of its prison between her legs. Mateo gently pulled the bodice of the gown down Caprice’s torso, yanking it over her hips and then he let it fall to the floor, pooling around her feet. Caprice kicked it away and stood before Mateo dressed only in her pantyhose, panties and high heels.

Mateo’s eyes glowered as he took in the half-naked pixie that stood before him. He pulled her closer and slid a hand between her legs and stroked her cock through the layers of nylon and satin. He could feel the little wet patch on the fabric where her cock was leaking pre-ejaculate.

He slipped his other hand inside the waistband of her pantyhose and his fingers found her turgid penis nestled between her thighs and he freed it, allowing the appendage to spring free. He felt her empty scrotum suddenly pooch as her testes descended, filling her crotal sac and Caprice issued an audible sigh of relief. Her removed his hand from inside her undergarments and traced the outline of her cock through her bulging panties with a fingertip and smiled when Caprice gasped.

He pulled her onto the bed but not viciously. He was gentle with her, kissing her softly and stroking her cheek. Caprice saw the scars on his sinewy body and remembered what he said about it hurting to be shot. Some of the scars were obviously bullet wounds and others looked like knife wounds. She traced a long pink scar along his upper thigh with her fingertip and then continued until she took his long, slightly bent phallus in her hand and began to gently stroke it. It was her turn to reciprocate the foreplay.

She lay beside him, kissing him softly as her fingers slid up and down his engorged manhood. She slipped the tip of her tongue in his mouth and shimmied a gossamer-clad leg along his hairy thigh and felt him shudder. She kissed him again, long and languidly and then her mouth began a voyage down his body. She lapped at his clavicle but didn’t linger, she nipped his nipples and then tickled them with her tongue. She traced a scar on his chest with the tip of her tongue and continued her journey downward, investigating another ragged scar on his flat belly and exploring his belly button. All the time she was gently stroking his ever-thickening erection until if was fully engorged and throbbing in her hand.

She knelt over him and lapped at his scrotum, pressing her legs against his so that her silken-shrouded limbs added to the sensations she was evoking with her mouth. She took his scrotum into her mouth and softly swathed the delicate flesh with her tongue and it was Mateo’s turn to utter a mew. He stroked her cheek and Caprice sensed his urgency and she spat out his scrotal sac and her mouth went to his engorged phallus.

She lapped at the straining appendage, tracing the underside with the tip of her tongue, tickling his fraenulum, lapping at his glans before finally taking the engorged organ in her mouth. She worked her lips up and down the shaft while her tongue concentrated on his glans, lapping the sweet nectar of his precum. Mateo watched the pretty young girl attend to his penis with her mouth, smiling as he saw the concentrated look on her face as she fellated him, her red lipsticked lips sliding up and down his appendage.

He noticed that her nipples were engorged as was her penis, straining her satin panties, a wet circlet of precum stained the fabric where it stretched across her glans. She may be performing a service she considered her duty but there was no doubt that she was enjoying the experience. He let Caprice expertly fellate him, twice bringing him to the edge of extremis than backing off her ministrations so as not to trigger his climax but now it was time to fuck her.

Flexing his sinewed muscles, in one swift movement, he lifted Caprice off his body and rolled her over onto her back and mounted her. She instinctively opened her legs, her hand scrambling for the lubricant which she knew had been placed under the pillow and she unscrewed the tube and squeezed a dollop of the viscous emollient onto her fingers. Mateo lifted her legs, exposing her panty-clad buttocks. He eased aside the gusset of her panties and tore a hole in her pantyhose adjacent to her sphincter and Caprice lubricated her puckered bud and then she glazed Mateo’s turgid shaft with the remainder of the unguent.

She locked her legs around his torso as Mateo guided his engorged cock to her puckered bud. He lowered his face to hers and kissed her passionately as he slid his manhood all the way inside her. Caprice gasped as felt Mateo’s hard-fleshed organ fill her void. She crushed her lips against his and slipped her tongue into his mouth and kissed him with ardent fervour as she raked her nails down his back and scissored her pantyhosed legs against his body, her high heels thrummed against him and her body quivered and shook as Mateo began to fuck her hard and fast.

Unlike the foreplay which had been prolonged and congenial, their copulation was unbridled and ferocious. Mateo slammed his cock in and out Caprice’s anus and she rose up off the bed to meet his thrusts. Her sphincter was stretched and thrashed, her anal wall assaulted, her prostate pounded by Mateo’s long, thick, throbbing organ. Waves of delight radiated from every nerve and fibre of her anus. She clenched and unclenched her sphincter and undulated the muscles in her anal cavity, like she was trying to syphon Mateo’s essences from him.

Mateo returned Caprice’s kisses with equal vigour. This tiny, satin and nylon swathed sylph that lay beneath him was gyrating and gasping; pawing at him, doing something with her ass that made his cock want to explode as she squeezed and kneaded his aching cock with her tight anal sheath. The scent of her perfume, the feel of her soft skin, her mouth on his, her silken shrouded limbs burnishing his tender flesh drove Mateo into paroxysm of desire and pleasure.

Mateo drove Caprice down into the covers and rammed his cock all the way inside her and exploded. Caprice felt his cock undulate inside her anus, she felt his scrotum contract and press against her pantied taint, he sucked the essences from her mouth, his body pressed heavily against hers and an orgasm of stupendous proportions wracked her tiny body. She kicked and screamed and moaned and gyrated under Mateo’s hard sinewy body as his cock juddered inside her, his scalding milt filled her anal cavity. Her cock erupted, flooding her pantyhose and panties, her semen inundated her undergarments and Mateo smiled inwardly as he felt her hot spunk on his belly.

Mateo lay on top of Caprice exhausted. His cock was slowly deflating inside her as she held him close and kissed him softly, stroking his long black hair, lightly scissoring her legs against his flanks. Mateo kissed the tip of nose and then pressed his lips to hers and stroked her cheek. Their passion spent they were content to lie in each others arms until the afterglow of their lovemaking began to dissipate.

“I need to get back to the party,” Mateo smiled down at Caprice and then dismounted.

“I need to go to the breakroom and fix myself and change my nylons and panties,” Caprice sat up on the bed.

Mateo turned around and for the first time that night flashed an angry look at Caprice.

“No! You will fix your hair and makeup in the ensuite bathroom. You will leave on your cum-soaked panties and ripped pantyhose under your dress and when my juices dribble from your asshole you will remember who put them there,” Mateo growled.

Mateo saw the fear on Caprice’s face and he sat down beside her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound angry. I simply want you to remember our interlude. No one else is going to need your services tonight but me; let me assure you of that,” he kissed her softly and padded away to the ensuite.

Caprice sat there a little stunned, a little frightened but also immensely satisfied. If Mateo wanted her to wear her cummy undergarments for the rest of the evening who was she to argue. She figured it was some machismo thing with him like an animal marking his mate.

Then she remembered her clutch. She had left it facing the bed and her phone would have recorded everything that she and Mateo did and uploaded it instantly to the cloud.

“Fuck Booby Keen and Fuck Julie Sanderson! They knew what they were setting me up for,” Caprice whispered as she found tissues and dabbed at her sodden panties.

When Mateo emerged from the bathroom she went inside and used handtowels to do a better job and then she fixed her hair and makeup as best she could and emerged to find Mateo already dressed.

While Caprice and Mateo were busy in the entertainment suite, Taryn and Alister Blithely arrived at Bedazzled, Alister dressed in a dark-blue slim-fit suit and Taryn in a black, backless evening gown that showed a lot of cleavage, the figure-hugging dress clinging tightly to her legs. Because her dress was so tight fitting Taryn walked with slow, deliberate movements with distinctive elegance and grace; exhibiting a gliding effect, a stony demeanour on her beautiful face. They both had piercing blue eyes, unblemished alabaster skin and platinum-blonde hair and fine elegant features, their poise and athleticism was evident in their cat-like movements.

Lester’s security people had been expecting the Blithely’s and the two men at the entrance couldn’t help but be fascinated by Taryn Blithely and they looked at each other speculatively, mentally deciding which one of them was going to deal with Taryn.

The invitations extended by Lester Slocum and Daniel Huntsinger had been specific that no weapons would be allowed inside Bedazzled. Mateo Ortega’s sicarios had surrendered their weapons at the door and all of the guests had been subjected to a metal detector or a pat-down search. Andrea Foster had searched all of the hostesses lockers and made them turn out their purses and had confiscated two small but vicious knives and a Beretta Tom Cat .32 which the owners claimed they carried for self defence.

Alister adopted the position that almost anybody that travelled by plane knew by heart: hands raised, feet spread slightly apart while the security guy waved the metal detector over his body. He too carried a small man’s purse, sometimes referred to as a ‘manbag’ which produced nothing sinister.

The more senior of the security men approached Taryn and she handed over her stylish Louis Vuitton pochette and he subjected it to a rudimentary search. He swallowed and looked both excited and pensive as he approached her to conduct the body search and Taryn gave him an amused grin.

“I can’t really spread my legs in this dress I’m afraid. Why don’t you just wave that little wand over my body and pat down the parts you can’t reach with it or I can lift my skirts if that will facilitate your endeavours,” her grin widened into a salacious smirk and the man seemed a little rattled.

Taryn’s voice was smoky, alluring and accent-less, like the actress Cate Blanchette, the security guard thought.

The man waved the wand over Taryn’s body and for a second thought about running his hands up and down her legs under the gown but one glance into the soulless, shark-like eyes of Alister Blithely changed his mind.

“If you ladder my pantyhose I will be very cross with you,” Taryn teased him and stretched her legs as wide as they would go which wasn’t far at all.

“I don’t think that will be necessary. My associate will show you to the elevator which will take you to the VIP lounge,” the senior guard opened the ornate doors wide to allow the Blithely’s access to the venue.

Lester and Daniel had been alerted to the Blithely Twins arrival and met them at the elevator. They had never actually met Taryn and Alister in person. They had been contracted for the Aziz hit by email including the details of where and when the hit was to occur. Details of which suite Shareen Aziz was in was sent to them by text when they were in the club. On the night of the hit Lester had watched the Blithely’s arrive at the club and mingle with the crowd on a video screen in his office but had prudently stayed away from the murder scene until law enforcement arrived and by then the video security footage for the upper levels and VIP area had been deleted.

They were both taken by the Blithely’s and led them to a booth away from the small crowd in the VIP area.

“Mateo is currently being entertained by Caprice Cameron in one of the suites but he is very keen to meet you both,” Lester fawned.

A hostess arrived with a bottle of Bollinger La Côte aux Enfants on ice with crystal glasses.

Meanwhile in entertainment suite four Mateo Ortega and Caprice Cameron were getting dressed. Mateo waited for Caprice to fix her hair and makeup and escorted her outside to the VIP area.

“That was a very pleasant interlude,” Caprice blushed, feeling her damp panties and nylons clinging to her body under the dress, then she got up on her tippytoes and kissed Mateo on the cheek.

“Don’t go anywhere my lovely. I’d like you to meet a couple that I myself have been anxious to meet. You have met them before but under less auspicious circumstances,” Mateo took Caprice’s arm in an affectionate but firm grip and guided her through the tables to the booth occupied by Lester Slocum, Daniel Huntsinger, Taryn Blithely and Alister Blithely.

Caprice baulked when she saw Taryn and Alister sitting in the booth. She recognised them immediately but Mateo tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her down beside him. The six of them sat on the plush semicircular bench around the table where the champagne sat in the ice bucket with runnels of condensation running down the neck.

Daneil Huntsinger introduced Mateo Ortega to the Blithely’s and it was obvious that Mateo was taken with Taryn’s beauty.

“I understand that I owe you both a debt of gratitude for eliminating someone who had the potential to be a thorn in my side,” Mateo grinned at the Blithely’s.

Caprice had put her clutch on the table. It was an innocent enough gesture given that Taryn’s Louis Vuitton pochette and Alister’s black leather pocketbook were also laid out on the glass tabletop. She had enough wits about her to ensure that the camera in her clutch had an unobstructed view of the people sitting at the booth. She also realised that Mateo had just implicated the Blithely’s in the assassination of Shareen Aziz. What Taryn said next confirmed the implication.

“I’m sorry that I shot you darling but you’re lucky that I only wounded you. To be honest I thought that you were dead. When I saw Mister Aziz’s blood and brains all over your face I thought they were yours,” Taryn reached for her pochette and took out a gold cigarette case and lighter.

“You know of course that Misters Slocum and Huntsinger had a hit out on you as the only witness to the event but they cancelled it. I’m glad that you and Mister Slocum settled your differences because I find you quite exquisite,” Alister added; the smile on his face was not mirrored in his cold blue eyes.

“Yes we are all friends here now right?” Mateo tried to bring some levity to the conversation and reached out to pour champagne into the crystal glasses and handed them around.

“Do you mind if I switch places with you Mateo. I would like to get better acquainted with the lovely little doll sitting beside you,” Alister stood and swapped places with Mateo who seemed to be more than delighted to be sitting next to Taryn.

Caprice felt nervous sitting so close to Alister Blithely but he did his best to put her at ease, asking her about her new employment and complimenting her. His hand rested lightly on her thigh and she made no objection. She was really just a hostess and her job was to satisfy the whims of the clientele after all.

“May I trouble you for a light? My lighter appears not to be working,” Taryn leaned into Mateo after she had tried several times to ignite her lighter unsuccessfully.

Mateo lit Taryn’s cigarette and the small talk continued around the table culminating with Daniel Huntsinger proposing a toast to their continued prosperity and cooperation. Caprice hoped like hell that the microphone and camera in her phone were working correctly because what was said at the table included more than enough evidence to implicate them all in several criminal conspiracies. Lester and Daniel could not help themselves and bragged incessantly about how they had orchestrated their partnership and business deal with the Ortega cartel.

After a while Taryn Blithely snatched up her pochette and excused herself so that she could use the ladies room. Everybody at the table stared at her exquisite derriere as she glided with effortless grace across the floor towards the ladies room, her buttocks swinging invitingly in the tight dress.

When Taryn returned the champagne had been replenished and the small talk continued.

Taryn didn’t sit down instead she mooched around in her pochette and then withdrew one of the smallest pistols that Caprice had ever seen. She shot Lester Slocum and Daniel Huntsinger once each in the forehead. Alister Blithely had tightened his grip on Caprice’s thigh and when Taryn produced the gun he put his arm around her shoulder and held her still in a vicelike grip.

Caprice knew that she was dead but nothing illuminating passed through her mind like people who had survived near-death experiences said it did.

“Shall we go dear?” Taryn smiled at Alister who let go of Caprice and got to his feet.

“Will you be joining us?” Taryn asked Mateo Ortega who also on his feet.

“My sicarios and I will clean up the mess. Caprice, you have been wonderful company and I wish you well with all your endeavours but if you ever attempt to stand up in a witness box I’m afraid my new friends here will be paying you a visit,” Mateo shook hands with the Blithelys, snatched up Caprice’s purse and sauntered away.

Caprice was still in shock and she didn’t know how long she remained in that trancelike state before Andrea Foster appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Caprice and dragged her away to her office where she closed and locked the door. What Caprice did notice was that all of the other hostesses were nowhere in sight. She would later find out that Mateo’s sicarios and the men in the business suits had rounded up the girls on the pretext of taking them away for sex and locked them in the entertainment suites before the shooting happened.

FBI Safehouse, Balwyn Texas – The next Day

Julie Sanderson paced up and down the living room of the freestanding farmhouse on the outskirts of Balwyn. She was dressed in one of her signature skirtsuits, low-heels and pantyhose. Her makeup was minimal except for her characteristic red lipstick which she had mostly bitten away.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuckity Fuck!” Julie hissed, cigarette smoke coming from her mouth and nostrils.

The fact that Julie Sanderson was chain smoking was enough to indicate to anyone who knew her that she was distressed.

“So do we know what the fuck happened?” Bobby Keen sat on a kitchen chair also smoking, his glass full of bourbon; the pint bottle in front of him half empty.

“From what the organised crime division have put together it looks like Mateo Ortega double-crossed Lester Slocum and Daniel Huntsinger and made a deal with the Lebanese mafia. Those shady guys in the business suits will take over Huntsinger’s organisation. Ortega will traffic them girls for their prostitution ring and to use as drug mules and the Lebs will sell them coke. Ortega will continue to run coke up the east coast and the Lebs will control the west,” Julie ran her fingers through her blunt-cut bob, further dishevelling her hair.

“Ortega pretended not to know the Blithely’s but he knew them all right and he contracted them to take out Huntsinger and Slocum in their own club as payback for Aziz and as a show of faith for the Lebs,” Julie finally sat down and poured herself a drink.

“But you have everything that happened recorded on Caprice’s phone. Ortega took Caprice’s phone thinking rightly that she was a plant but he didn’t know that everything recorded on it went up to the cloud in real time,” Bobby drank his drink and poured another.

“Yeah but most of it is useless now. The deal we thought Ortega was making with Huntsinger and Slocum was a sham and now they’re dead. Ortega is safely ensconced back in Sinaloa, the Blithely’s are somewhere in Europe… we think. With their resources they could be anywhere. We are still trying to figure out exactly who the four businessmen are and what role they had in all of this mess,” Julie gulped down her drink.

“The organised crime division will have to start the investigation all over and we’d expended so many resources already on Ortega,” Julie sighed.

“You guys get about ten billion a year so don’t come crying to me about money,” Bobby said staidly.

“Yeah, and most of that will go to national security chasing down Middle Eastern guys who are probably innocent but have nosy neighbours who think any swarthy man with a beard and a woman in a hijab are terrorists,” Julie replied.

“How did Taryn get the gun past security?” Bobby asked.

“She’s one smart bitch. The gun techs looked at the footage and that little pistol, probably a .32, is a bespoke tiny ceramic pocket gun. She probably had it hidden in her cooch under her pantyhose. She wasn’t patted down and the metal detector wouldn’t find it. We think she had the bullets inside her gold lighter that supposedly didn’t work, remember, and she loaded the gun when she used the ladies room,” Julie smiled at the ingenuity of it.

“She should come work for us or the fucking CIA,” Julie said sarcastically.

“What about Caprice?” Bobby pointed at the ceiling.

Caprice was in the bedroom above them.

“I’m going to make damn sure that she gets the deal we offered her. She deserves it,” Julie said with determination.

“And Andrea Foster was your other CI?” Bobby asked the rhetorical question.

“Yeah. She gave us everything she knew about the club, about the drugs and the girls, and she had access to Slocum's calendar but she couldn’t get us what we really wanted so we used Caprice for that,” Julie admitted.

They heard footsteps on the stairs and they turned to see Caprice coming down them in her stocking feet still dressed in her evening gown which was now a ruin as was her makeup and hair. She had slept for twelve hours straight after Julie and Bobby whisked her away to the farmhouse after the shooting.

“Can you give us a while. I need to have a serious conversation with Caprice,” Bobby poured himself another drink.

“Sure. I’ve got a lot of calls to make anyway,” Julie got up and reached for her phone.

She leaned down and took away the bottle and Bobby’s glass.

“Don’t be a complete asshole,” she whispered and left the room.

Portland, Oregon – Two Years Later

Caprice Capshaw was a girl forgotten. She had never really existed anyway.

Mercedes Braithwaite, dressed in black leggings, long sleeve t-shirt and a vintage tan, fleece-lined, Carhartt Jacket to keep out the cold walked her dog along the suburban street.

The US Marshals had baulked at first when Caprice chose the name Mercedes. They just couldn’t they see the irony. In her purse she had a driver’s licence, a social security card and other legitimate documents that verified her gender and identity. She was still diminutive but her body was now curvy and sported a nice set of perky C-cup breasts. She had dyed her hair blonde and let it grow out. She had also had a little, but not much, facial reconstructive surgery.

Dolly, her Labrador stopped to sniff a tree trunk and Mercedes waited patiently.

She recalled the last conversation that she had had with Bobby Keen in the safehouse outside of Balwyn Texas.

“It would be impossible. I can bear you no children. You will always think of me as a whore. Your friends will laugh at you behind your back. They will pretend to tolerate me but they will never really accept me. The biggest act of love I can do for you is to disappear and never return. Forget me. Move on with your life,” tears had streamed down Caprice’s face, her mascara running in rivulets down her cheeks.

She knew that Bobby had only made the offer to follow Caprice into witsec out of guilt and contrition.

A red SUV turned into the driveway of her house and parked. Dolly broke away from Mercedes and bounded away to greet the driver who got out of the car and he rolled around the lawn with Dolly, despite the fact that he was dressed in a suit and an overcoat.

Mercedes walked up the driveway and the man pushed Dolly away and got to his feet. He pulled Mercedes into his arms and kissed her, cheekily squeezing her buttocks.

“It’s all set. The people from the adoption agency are coming tomorrow at three so try to look nice,” the man said.

“I always look nice,” Mercedes dug her husband in the ribs.

“Bobby Keen, you old softy,” Mercedes smiled up at the man she loved.

“You mean Bobby Braithwaite. Bobby Keen is long gone,” Bobby put his arm around Mercedes’ waist and led her to the front door with Dolly getting the way, scrambling between their legs.

The End

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed Caprice’s journey. Please take a little time to leave a comment.
Thank you for reading my story,
Michele Nylons
Oct 2025