A Girl Forgotten - Chapter 3

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