© Copyright 2018 - Rbbral - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbm; hotel; latex; catsuit; buttplug; hood; breathplay; cuffs; gag; death; police; investigate; MF/fm+; suspects; interview; discovery; dungeon; tease; flirt; femdom; cons/nc; X
Part 1: A Dangerous Game
He checked into reception and then moved up to his room, located next to the stairwell. It was the same room as before, and before that. He had been there four times now, and was familiar with the layout and how it fitted his needs.
He realised his heart was beating fast, it was always the same, a beguiling mix of excitement and nerves. He really wouldn’t have it any other way, it was wonderfully exciting and rewarding and yet it held serious risks, but then that was part of the whole scenario, risk and reward.
He laid his case on the bed, ready for later. He intended to go downstairs first and have a quiet drink, settle the nerves. Just the one, it wasn’t wise to play the game with alcohol, it dulled the senses, and he wanted his senses to be sharp and appreciative of the game to be played. He went to the bar and had his contemplative drink, anticipating what was to come, still nervous. Then he returned.
He opened his case and inhaled deeply. Not just for the oxygen, but for the sweet aroma of the rubber clothes within. He carefully arranged them on the bed, they were already turned inside out, ready for the powdering. He stripped slowly, laying his clothes on the chair rather than the closet. When naked he inspected himself in the mirror, not too bad he thought. All the hours in the gym and running had kept him in good shape. He turned to the bed and the sight of the clothes had already made him harden. This happened every time, just the sight or smell of the rubber got him to stiffen. He had to be disciplined, no use in coming now, he had to build up to this slowly. He powdered the clothes, careful not to spill any on the carpet. Then he powdered his naked body, keeping his hands from his cock. The slower the process was done, the better the reward.
He lit the candle and dripped some wax on the bedside table and glued the candle to it. The length of string he passed over the chandelier above the bed, and attached to the bedside lamp, the other with the key attached suspended from the chandelier to about two feet above the mattress. He had tested everything several times before and the length of the candle would allow him about three hours of solitary pleasure, nervousness and excitement before it burned through the string.
He began to dress, the slow sensual feeling of the dressing was a huge part of the overall experience and he never rushed this. The black rubber catsuit was a very plain one with attached gloves and socks and a front zip from waist to neck, and two strategically placed openings at crotch and arse.
He sat on the bed and slid his feet down the legs of the suit and then squeezed out any air bubbles as his feet slipped into the attached socks. Carefully he drew the rubber over his calves and thighs and stood up. Taking a breath, he pulled it to his waist and then bent and very carefully pulled his hard cock and balls through the front opening. Now he leant back and eased his hands into the sleeves, first left and then right and pulled the upper portion over his shoulders. He shuddered at the cool grip of the rubber as he squeezed all the air out of the gloves and sleeves. He began to zip it up, pulling it in where needed. Once the zip was at his throat, he let out a sigh of contentment and eased out all the wrinkles until he was perfect - black, shiny, contoured, muscled. Only his head, cock and balls were not covered in the shimmering encasement. But he’d take care of that soon. He took a deep breath, there was still much to do.
He took in his hand a sizeable plastic butt plug and inhaled another deep breath. It had been only recently that he had begun to experiment with this. Uncomfortable, even a bit painful at first, particularly the moment when it stretched his sphincter to the limit, he was now getting to appreciate the not so subtle presence of it in his rear. He lubed it slowly, covering it completely, then squatted down and tried to relax. This was the hard bit, convincing his tight entrance to accept this intruder. He placed the narrower top at his rear, feeling the cool plastic tickle him, then pressed and twisted the plug. After a couple of inches he stopped, took a moment to adjust, acclimatise, then pressed again. He knows when he’s near the widest part and this is quite uncomfortable, but he pressed on and with a final thrust it plopped inside him and his sphincter gripped the narrow neck firmly. He stood for a minute or so, squeezing his cheeks and getting familiarised to the huge sense of fullness in his rear. Now he was all right, yes, it was fine now.
He placed a two inch wide steel belt around his waist, locking it at the front, above a large ring welded there. He followed this with steel cuffs with rings on the inside, and locked them to his wrists. Now the helmet. This will cover his head and has a single back zip. It resembled a gas mask at the front, with two small glass eyepieces tinted a dark grey, and two openings with screw fittings near the mouth, one directly opposite and one to the side. He dipped his face into the rubber, taking a deep breath and, stretching it back, eased it over his ears and crown. Carefully he zipped it down the back of his head, and tucked it under the collar of the suit. He took a few deep breaths through his nose enjoying the rubber scented air, before wrapping a two inch steel collar over them both, locking it at the back of his neck. There were rings at the sides of the collar and these will come into use in a couple of minutes. He sat on the bed, feeling the plug move inside him, and took from its case a penile vacuum device. This he had acquired more recently, and he had enjoyed its enforced sexual gratification. He laid it next to his hip.
He took another deep breath and lay back on the bed, looking up to see the dangling key above him. This will fit the steel cuffs, waistbelt and collar. One key fitted all. Lying by him were four more pieces of his sublime self-induced bondage. The first was a short, thick rubber cock that, after taking a deep breath, he screwed into the front opening of the gas mask. He opened his mouth in the knowledge that for the next two to three hours this would gag him very effectively, there would be no screaming for help from him now. He stretched his mouth and accepted the cock, running his tongue around the shaft, trying not to gag. He twisted the screw at the base to ensure an airtight fit and bit down on the hard rubber. He was so hard now, he had to be careful not to come.
Breathing hard through his nose, he took two lengths of chain, laid the first at his hip and wrapped the second around the headboard near his head and with a click of ominous finality locked the ends to the rings on either side of his steel collar. Now he felt next to him and manoeuvred his hard cock into the clear plastic of the penile vacuum device, then squeezed the rubber ring at the base around the root of his cock. He attached the power cord to the wall socket, and now all he had to do was turn it on. There were several speeds of suction, and he had set it at the lowest, one suction every five seconds. He switched on the device and dropped the handset on the floor, well out of reach. So this would now play with him unerringly, and he would be able to do nothing about it.
Next to his head he had laid out the second addition to his helmet and this was a rubber re-breather bag with an adjustable valve at the base. Carefully he screwed this into the side of his helmet. He began to breathe through his nose slowly as he turned the valve nearer to the closed position.
This was the most critical part of the whole exercise. What he wanted to do was breathe deeply the rubber scented air through his nose comfortably and yet not suffocate himself, that wouldn’t do at all. It was a fine line, a very fine line. He looked down through the tinted portals of the mask as the bag rose and fell, dreamily breathing in the rubber scented air. He adjusted it slightly and now the valve allowed just enough air for him to breathe with ease.
All was now ready for the final, irrevocable piece.
He slid the chain through the ring at the front of the steel belt, then locked one end to one wrist cuff. The chain was about twelve inches, enough for a bit of movement and perhaps he could even pull off the suction tube, but that was well clamped over the root of his cock and already vacuuming him every five seconds.
Now was the moment of truth. He looked up through the dark glass of the portals and saw the key, so close and yet out of reach. How long would the candle take to drip down and then burn through the string, allowing him to fumble it into the locks on his cuffs and collar? Well he had a rough idea but he was in its hands now, or would be the second he locked the chain to his other wrist. But this was the whole point, he was excited and a little frightened at the same time, and this occurred each time he did this.
He desired two to three hours of blissful, yet rather nerve-wracking auto erotic rubber sex, and with just a second’s hesitation, and a deep breath he locked the chain to his other cuff. He was now a prisoner to the suit, the rubber cock in his mouth, the plug in his rear, the tube vacuuming his cock, the re-breather bag giving him an intoxicating mix of air and rubber perfume, and ultimately the candle beside his bed, his lifeline.
For a few minutes, he lay in the candle lit semi-darkness, then closed his eyes, his senses heightened to all he was being subjected to - the suction inexorably pulling and releasing his hard cock, the butt plug filling his rear, the re-breather bag rising and falling with just enough rubber-scented air.
He was blissful, although it was a bit frightening, he could do nothing, nothing at all, he was helpless and must wait for the candle to burn down. He began to lose track of time, perhaps drifted in and out of sleep, in rubber euphoria. He stared at the ceiling through the dark glass of the eyeholes. There was a glimmer from the candle, and shadows across the ceiling seeming to move back and forth. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed another shadow, giving the sense of a presence. He grunted through the gag, he must be hallucinating, he was on such a high.
He took a deep breath, and found now it was a bit difficult to breathe, he took another, and all he seemed to get was the sweet smell of rubber. Soon he began to get a little dizzy, was there something wrong with the re-breather bag, what was happening? He had double checked it before. He didn’t panic, quite the opposite, he was feeling a bit sleepy. He moved a hand to the bag but was unable to get to it. He began to see flashes of light, and there was some tightness in his chest. The key was still above him, out of reach. How long would it take to drop? He closed his eyes, just stay calm he said to himself, and he began to feel very tired, he breathed in as hard as he could but still felt very sleepy, and gradually it all became darker and darker, and then black.
“Boss, we’ve got a bit of a strange one.”
DCI Sam Benson sighs.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Sergeant, that’s what we deal in, we are homicide, right? Okay, give me the short version.” Rising star, still in his early 30’s Detective Chief Inspector Sam Benson was being fast tracked for higher office, but the problem was he loved his job, being on the street, putting away the bad guys, solving seemingly unsolvable murders. So, he didn’t want a desk job, even if the higher-ups had designs on him.
He is being called out by Sergeant Ruby Adams, his tough, no-nonsense colleague. Leather jacket, jeans, chunky ankle boots, t-shirt and spiky blonde hair, she didn’t exactly look like a seasoned homicide cop, but she liked working with Benson, she could ride his coat tails to the top she thought. Benson isn’t so sure. She isn’t too subtle, a little hard edged, but then she has to be, as a woman in homicide.
“Some weirdo sex game thing, boss. It’s a strange death, could be murder, suicide, misadventure, who knows. Some guy in his hotel room found by the cleaning lady, she’s distraught, well when you see the body you’ll see why. It will be hard to keep it under tabs, the tabloids will get a sniff and offer some money for all the lurid details. SOCO are already here and the pathologist.” She gives him the address of the hotel and he is on his way.
When he arrives, Adams comes to meet him, handing him his throwaway bunny suit with hood, facemask and bootees, she is already covered, complete with face mask. They enter the room and he sees the pathologist over the body on the bed. The three SOCO staff are already painstakingly going over the room. Benson took charge.
“Morning Frank.” He stares down at the rubber-clad body, taking in all the details.
“Hi Sam. Thought I’d bring you in on this one, lots of unanswered questions here. So, do we have auto-erotic asphyxiation, we know all about that, or suicide, misadventure or maybe something more sinister? I’ve seen a couple of these before, I think you have too. This poor fellow gets his jollies dressing like this, tying himself up and bringing himself off, nothing wrong with that, whatever turns you on and all that. But something went wrong here.”
They hear Adams take in a deep breath behind them and Benson turns.
“Anything to say, Sergeant, any deep analytical observation?”
“Erm, er, well, no boss.”
“Good, carry on Frank.”
“Okay. So, this rubber gas mask here, very sophisticated but not uncommon, you can buy them on the net. It has the re-breather bag that limits his oxygen and gives him his high, and the suction tube here around his penis keeps him hard and aroused. How long this goes on for we don’t know. You have to be careful with this valve here, too much oxygen and you don’t get the buzz, and too little, well, this happens. The valve is not turned completely off, but it looks as if he didn’t get enough oxygen, it would have been quite a long death, oxygen depletion, then unconsciousness. He would drift off to sleep, but still not very nice, poor chap.”
“What about the key here.” Benson points to the key lying beside him.
“Yeah, that’s the funny bit, these chaps always have a key handy, and this here is close to his hand. Even though he’s cuffed he could probably have reached it, so why didn’t he grab it with his gloved hand, look, there’s enough play in the chain, and then release himself? Possibly he was already drifting into oxygen debt and it was too late, I don’t know, but I thought you should have a look.”
“Hhmm, yes, thanks Frank.” He stares down at the body, no skin showing, other than the suction device around his flaccid cock. He stares into the eyes in the mask, barely seeing the unfocused eyes staring back at him.
“Well, we can uncuff him now, have you taken enough video.” Frank nods. “Okay let’s have a look at the mask here, and then we can take off that suction thing and turn him.” Frank unzips and pulls off the mask carefully, exposing the face, and a fairly young man, quite handsome. Frank says.
“Poor bugger, okay, oh this is interesting, this rubber cock here, that would have acted as a very good gag, so there was no chance he would have been able to shout for help, I’m afraid he did a really good job on himself, if he did that is….”
“Jesus. Poor bloke. Looks pretty straighfor…”
“When will you learn that nothing is straightforward in our business sergeant, now do your job, please.” Benson says rather briskly.
He likes Adams, she is very hard-working and diligent, a really tough girl in a tough job, but sometimes she doesn’t look beyond the obvious, and in this job, you have to do that. She looks a bit annoyed, but says nothing. He turns the mask inside out, looking at the cock, yes, that would keep him quiet all right. Over the years he’s seen a lot, and there was nothing much that shocked him anymore, but this one is certainly different. He isn’t shocked, but he’s just saddened. He doesn’t make judgments, never, that’s why his bosses like him, and he has compassion, which many homicide cops lost over the years on the job. He feels sorry for the guy, it all seems so sad, going like this. If he enjoyed doing this, he was fine with that, it was all harmless fun, whatever turns you on, but it was a dangerous game all right. During this thought process, he’d spent a couple of minutes scouring the room but finding nothing untoward.
Frank and Sam Benson turn over the body, now cold under the rubber suit, and they see the butt plug at the same time.
“Hhhmm,” Frank says quietly, “another addition for enhancing his sexual excitement, not everyone’s cuppa, but there you go. Actually good of him to do that, means we don’t have much clean-up work.” It is a hard comment, but those in this business can’t stay grim and serious all day, there has to be some lighter moments, or they’d go crazy. All Benson wants is to show respect for the victim, for from now on, they are acting for him.
“Yeah, very considerate of him.” Adams says, without really thinking and Benson stares at her. Benson had moved to the jacket on the chair and had found his wallet.
“Okay, we have a name – Joe Kemp, credit cards, business cards, driver’s license, money et cetera. So it’s not a robbery, that’s for sure. Looks like he’s married, great, so I get to tell his wife, you’ll come with me Ruby, you have the smooth feminine touch.” And he says that also not without a little sarcasm.
“We’ll leave you here Frank, call me after your autopsy please. And you guys,” he nods to the SOCO team, “anything interesting, please let me know. Thanks.”
In the car, Ruby is quiet, and then seems to pluck up courage.
“Look boss, it seems pretty clear, yes? We all know about bondage, fetish stuff, solo sex gone wrong, auto asphyxiation, although all the rubber gear is an added interesting element. Sheez, it’s fine by me, really, but, that stuff, the tabloids will love this one. Has to be an accident, misadventure, common enough, if you were going to commit suicide would you do it this way, no I don’t think so. So it has to be misadventure, yes?”
“I take your point, all right Ruby, yes, seems straightforward. But there’s the word…. “seems” pretty clear, but why turn down the air so far on his re-breather bag? He’s experienced at this I’m sure, so why not uncuff yourself, the key is right there, adjust his air intake and then, well, get back down to it? Let’s check with the hotel how many times he has been there in the last six months or so. But this time somehow he goes unconscious, he must have drifted off quickly, too late to do anything? I don’t know, no, I don’t think so, it just doesn’t smell right.” Now Ruby kept her opinion to herself. She knows Benson has a sixth sense and is not often wrong, so she will just go on for the ride for now.
“I want a full background check, sergeant.” Ruby notes he is calling her sergeant, when he brooks no complaint that’s what he calls her. She is Ruby often enough, but she knows now he wants the works, which is fine by her, she likes to delve into people’s pasts, the murkier the better, and this guy, who is married, seems to have a second life, and that will be interesting to explore.
Meet The Wife
They met the wife, Heather, at the door, a nice middle-class quiet neighbourhood. She is attractive in a subdued mousy way, mid 30’s, tall and slim, and quite fit. Once she saw they were homicide she invited them in.
Predictably she’s stunned, but there are no tears, just silent shock. That’s not unknown, over the years he’s seen all kinds of reaction. They have no kids, they have tried but they have been told they can’t. She doesn’t go into it. They have a happy marriage, she says, her husband is the quiet type, keeps to himself, spends most of his time trying to get his company successful, he’s very busy and even sleeps at the office, so she wasn’t surprised that he didn’t return the night before. The business is doing all right, but she leaves that to him.
She asked if he was found at the office as he didn’t come home last night, and they replied they can’t answer that yet. Then she asked how he died, and again they can’t answer, it’s all still under investigation. They say it is mysterious rather than suspicious, at this stage. She will need to come to the mortuary to identify the body. As they left her, they asked her if she needed any officer to stay with her. She declined, she had a brother and she would call him. On the way back to the station they discussed her.
“Poor woman, when this gets out, you know, the rubber and the bondage, and it will, she’ll be devastated.”
“Yeah well, he should have thought of that before, shouldn’t he?” Ruby replied rather cruelly. “When do we break it to her, all the rubber stuff? It has to be from us, doesn’t it?”
“Do you think she knew? About his predilection, do you think she shared in it. No, I don’t think so. I think this is solitary entertainment for him, maybe his wife is a bit of a prude, won’t play his games, and he does this for his gratification. Sad really, that he feels ashamed or embarrassed to tell her, but then he probably would know her reaction, best to keep it under wraps. Happens a lot. We’ll tell her when the time is right, not now, when she’s at her most vulnerable.”
He reminded Ruby again, in his eyes it was not cut and dried, and he wanted everything - mobile phone, laptop and bank records, his company liquidity, do all the checking, go through the routine, it could still be murder. We just don’t know, he said.
Two days later, the team met in the incident room, Benson, chairing it, went from one investigator to the next, then with greater clarity laid out all their evidence.
“Okay, so this is what we have so far. Money. He was in trouble, the business not doing so well, and two partners who wanted out, but can’t get out with anything like their share. Motive there? Kill him, and get control of the company, and his portion of the shares go to them. Yes, that’s a motive all right. The wife doesn’t know his financial status, she thinks he’s doing fine. And then we have something interesting, he takes out an insurance policy a year ago for £200,000. That’s a lot, and the wife is the sole beneficiary. But did she actually know she was the beneficiary? We have to talk to her again. And that could be an incentive to bump him off.” He stopped for a second to collect his thoughts.
“Next, we have two payments going into his account, for £15,000 each, over three months. Not a huge amount, but we need to know more about why they went in, and why an Emily Gunn gave them to him. For three years he had been paying her £500 to £600, every six weeks/two months, then three months ago, his payments to her are stopped, and money, much more money then went the other way. That’s interesting, could be blackmail, and maybe the blackmailer had had enough. Slim premise I grant you, but we follow it up, we need to know more about this woman, Gunn, could be a girlfriend on the side, who knows. His clients say he’s a good guy, think the business would be fine eventually, and he just needed some cash to tide him over. That’s it for now, you know your assignments. Do your digging.”
An hour later the Chief Super called him in.
“Okay Sam, got the autopsy and SOCO reports here. Don’t know why they sent them to me, it’s your case from the start. Anyway have a seat, so let’s see, lack of oxygen to the brain and then heart, not suffocation, asphyxiation or smothering, no signs of any foul play, no marks on the body. Found several fingerprints, hhmm, that’s interesting. Small, probably female, located on the collar and near the crotch of his rubber suit, they can’t tell how old. The suit was mostly shiny, he probably shines it after putting it on, I suppose, so they could be old or more important, placed at the scene. Yes, he seems he looked after the suit, shined it up nicely,” he raised his eyebrows, “either missed them when cleaning it or they were left there during the roleplay or whatever they got up to, if that is it. So maybe there was someone with him and at the very least someone else knows about his games, and we need to find him, or her. But we have no proof there was anyone in the room. The door was locked but no dead bolt, so we could have a roleplay game, goes wrong and the other party, man or woman, scarpers. There was a very small smear of candlewax by the bed, but that could have been there from a previous occupant, no candles found on the premises. Right now I don’t see much here Sam, but I’ve always liked your intuition, so go another 24 hours and see what we get.”
Over the next 24 hours they checked backgrounds on the wife, Miss Gunn and the two partners. Ruby came into his office.
“Nothing untoward on the wife, although she could do with the money. No alibi, if that is what you are looking for, apparently at home all evening and night, alone. The partners certainly were pissed off that he was losing money but is that an incentive to kill him and get control? I don’t think so. But they have no alibis either, both are single and were, supposedly at home, on their own. So they are still in the picture. All the clients seem pretty above board. But this Emily Gunn. She is a bit of a mystery; she seems to have quite a bit of money, maybe inherited. But also substantial income coming in at very regular intervals, all declared to the taxman. She’s a psychotherapist… whatever that is.”
“Hhmm, we do need to see her, and the partners too. So who else benefits from his death? Wife gets the large life insurance payout, but remember Ruby, there’s no payout for suicide. Yes, for murder. But for auto-asphyxiation which may be termed misadventure, that’s much more complex. You know the insurers may contest that, so it could get messy. From the money standpoint, it’s clear she would actually want this to be murder, strange though that sounds, as she gets all the money, no problem. And this Miss Gunn, if she was being blackmailed then she might want him out of the way as well.”
Benson scratched his nose.
“I think it’s time to meet this benefactor. Miss Gunn.”
They decide not to call her, but to just arrive unannounced, interested to see how she would react.
The house is a fine three storey terrace in an expensive area, very expensive, and in a quiet attractive square. They ring the bell, and look up to see a security camera. The door is eventually opened after a few minutes and they are confronted by a cool appraising look. The woman is very tall, perhaps just short of 6 feet, as tall as Sam Benson, statuesque, very much in control, late 20’s, she has jet black raven hair and inspects their warrant cards, then with a cool smile she invites them in. She takes them to a living room, comfortably furnished with books along the back wall facing the fireplace. She calmly sits opposite them, Ruby standing behind Benson, she doesn’t seem surprised to see two homicide cops in her house, and Benson finds this interesting, or maybe she’s just the cool type, she certainly looks it.
But he doesn’t press. He had been taken aback initially, for she is very beautiful, very composed, well beyond her years, dressed in a black skirt hugging her flanks and a tight polo neck sweater, which certainly doesn’t hide her firm, full breasts. He is instantly attracted to her, but then all men would be, and realises he must keep his mind on the job in hand. She’s aware that he’s having a bit of a hard time concentrating and seems rather amused by it. Ruby is also aware of the tension between them, but is also interested in this commanding woman, and one so young, oh yes, and beautiful. They ask her if she knows Joe. She shows no unease and says yes. Why? Being a policeman, Benson ignores this, they are the ones asking the questions.
She continues under his questioning. Has she met him socially, why?
“There’s nothing routine in your job, Chief Inspector, you’re in homicide, what’s this about? And why are you talking to me.”
“Well, you’re on his mobile.” She waits a second as he watches her closely, and then she says.
“Well we have a business relationship. I lent him money to help him, he needed a cash input.”
“Do you know what type of business he’s in?”
“Not really, but I trust him.”
“£30,000 is a lot of trust, for someone who doesn’t even know his business.” He realises he is now getting to her, needling her just a little.
“How did you get to know him.”
“We met socially.” She still stays cool. Now’s the time to spring it, he thinks.
“Then why did he give you money over three years previously to that, every six weeks or month, and then later you gave him money back. What’s the reason behind that?” She maintains her cool and after a few seconds tilts her head and shrugs.
“He helped me with my business. I did him a favour back, quid pro quo, no big deal. Really.” He about to move on.
“What is your business, what’s a psychotherapist anyway.” It’s Ruby now, she says in a dismissive tone, but Benson let’s her go, he wants to see how cool this woman is under a bit of heat from Ruby, who can be quite aggressive, and is very good at this. The woman now stares at Ruby, ignoring Benson.
“I, erm, help people with their emotional issues.” She smiles wryly. “These may have many causes. Anyway, am I a suspect in something? You seem to know a lot about me, but you still haven’t told me why you are here.” She ponders this, then addresses Benson.
“Actually, maybe you should leave, if you are not going to at least tell me why you’re here, come back with a warrant.” She smiles without any hint of humour.
“Look, these are simple questions, you’re not under arrest or anything.” Replies Benson rather defensively. Now she feels she has the upper hand again.
“I’ll ask again. Why are you here?”
“We are, erm, looking into the circumstances of a mysterious death.”
“Mysterious, but you’re homicide.”
“Yes, but we are keeping an open mind. Mr. Kemp was found dead a couple of days ago, in strange circumstances.” He watches closely for her reaction. She can’t be faking it and real shock is shown on her face. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.
“We are simply treating it as suspicious so far, it’s a bit of a mystery you see.”
“Oh, oh dear, poor Joe, that’s terrible, can you tell me how he… where he…”
“No, not yet, we still need to get more information, a lot more. In the meantime, would you be prepared to provide your fingerprints, you see some were found at the “scene”. I won’t say crime scene as we are not sure if it is a crime, yet. You could be eliminated, and they would be destroyed afterwards of course.”
She doesn’t have to, he and she know that, but she agrees, it seems somewhat reluctantly, but she says she has nothing to lose. Benson considers this to be the end of the meeting, for now. They stand and he can still see delayed shock in her face, he doesn’t think that it is the look of someone who has lost a business partner, however temporary, but more personal, and he files this away in his memory. She will come to the station the next day
They leave, all of them aware that they will meet soon again, each with their thoughts.
It’s Just a Bit Fishy
The next morning, before Miss Gunn comes to the station, he is talking with his Super.
“Tabloids have got hold of this and we’re on the front page, Sam, they love all that kinky rubber and bondage stuff.” He rubs his forehead. “I don’t know why, it’s all pretty old hat isn’t it. God, seems like everyone has some sort of kink nowadays. What is the big deal about it now, haven’t we moved on? They have it as a solo sex game gone wrong. And it might be, right? I’m really pissed off this has got out, I hope it wasn’t one of your team, probably someone at the hotel. Sam, you really still have nothing to go on.”
“We have fingerprints, could be a match.”
“Could have been there for weeks. I want you to close it Sam, this is sad enough as it is, he has, had, a wife, she’s suffered enough. I’ll give you another 48 hours, which is more than you deserve. I like your intuition Sam, but this time you may have it wrong. Looks like misadventure to me. Give those two partners another rattling, see how they react, and that Miss Gunn again, and then we’ll call it a day, yes?” He dismisses him, and as he leaves, Sam hears. “And find out where the leak comes from.”
Sam goes back to his office, shaking his head, it’s just that something is not right.
The next day they meet the two partners, James and Terry, who claim innocence, but they have motive, their company, and certainly opportunity, for neither have an alibi. But there is no true evidence against them, and Benson knows that. Neither of them are particularly likeable, and don’t seem too shocked at Joe’s death, but that’s not enough reason to take them in. they leave, feeling thoroughly unsatisfied with where this is going.
Miss Gunn’s Profession
A day later, Miss Gunn comes to the station and gives her prints. Ruby takes them, Benson isn’t there, which she thinks is a pity. She rather liked the cool, handsome, yet slightly shy cop, he’s cute certainly, she thought. There is tension between Ruby and Miss Gunn, Emma doesn’t know why, she quite likes the tough young woman.
By mid-afternoon the fingerprints check out. Miss Gunn’s prints are on the rubber suit. Now this is getting interesting, and Ruby and Benson decide it is time to meet Miss Gunn again, and rattle her chain this time. What game is she playing with Joe? Is she his partner in this? Clearly she knows all about the rubber, but does that mean she’s involved in the scene of his death?
They arrive again unannounced, ring the bell and wait. They ring again, wait, ring again. Finally after at least five minutes she answers the videophone, sounding very angry.
“We’re here for another talk, just a friendly chat, all right?” Benson smiles up at the camera.
“I’m busy right now. Friendly chat? There’s no such thing with a cop, have you a warrant? Come back later will you?”
After much wrangling, she finally invites them in. Again keeping them waiting fully another five minutes. She is clearly flustered and still angry, and has beads of perspiration on her forehead. Again she wears the high, black polo neck top and this time, skin-tight leather pants hugging her figure, shaped legs and buttocks. Sam Benson thinks she is stunningly attractive, and both he and Ruby stare at her, before resuming their professional cool.
“This is very bad timing, couldn’t you have called first?” She wipes her forehead with a silk handkerchief.
As he walks by her, he sniffs something, something different, pungent? Rubber? Could this be a connection he needs? He says nothing, keeping his powder dry.
“All right,” she says as she sits in the same place as before, “could you get to the point.”
Fine, he thinks, now it’s time to play the game.
“The fingerprints at the scene, they match those you gave us. Care to comment on that.”
“Well so what? How can I comment when you haven’t told me where they were, and then I’m sure I can explain.”
He gives her the name of the hotel, but nothing more.
“Well you’ve cocked up, because I’ve never been in that hotel, ever. I can’t prove it of course, but you’ll have to take my word.” She looks more relaxed now. Benson thinks it’s time for the trump card.
“Hhmm, well I wasn’t being candid with you. It was at the hotel, but you see the fingerprints were on an item of clothing Mr. Kemp was wearing. Could you guess what that might be?”
She’s playing coy, “I don’t know, a leather jacket, a belt, could be anything.” But he can see she is rattled now. Maybe she knows where this is going. He waits a second. Ruby waits behind him.
“No, nothing so mundane, actually,” he took a theatrical pause, “a skin tight rubber full body catsuit that he was found wearing, among other items.”
She is silent for fully a minute, looking at Benson and then Ruby, mulling all this over, a tight lipped smile on her face.
“Well, that’s pretty damning all right. Very well, I haven’t been fully open with you.” Here Ruby laughs sarcastically, “but in my profession (she exaggerates this term) it pays to be discreet, my clients demand that.” Benson decides now this is getting interesting.
“Okay we’ll play along for now, so what is that profession, as if we don’t know.” It’s Ruby again, enjoying the upper hand now. Again, Emily waits a full 30 seconds and takes a deep breath.
“Look I have nothing to hide here. Perhaps the best way to explain this would be if you come with me.” She stands, rubs her hands down her leather thighs, and takes them to a door in the kitchen, opens it and leads them down some stairs. The room they enter at the bottom is already brightly lit from a series of lights within a grid of steel tubing suspended from the ceiling.
Miss Gunn’s Workplace
“Welcome to my office.” She says drily, and stands to the side as they take in the full extent of the large basement. “I just had a session with a client who you interrupted and so he left by the back door. As I said I like being discreet, and I don’t know what crime you are investigating, homicide probably, but it has nothing to do with this… or with me.”
“Perhaps we’ll decide that.” Ruby says, and they both now begin to move through the large room. Miss Gunn stands to the side, her arms crossed, watching them do their inspection, seemingly cool on the outside, perhaps even mildly amused. They take their time, there are no expressions on their faces other than calm professionalism, and this rather surprises her. She had rather hoped to shock this calm, perhaps shy, but certainly very professional man.
So, Benson thinks, she is a dominatrix, a mistress, for her dungeon, or torture chamber, or whatever, is certainly decked out with all the classic pieces of equipment that you would expect. He is fairly aware of it all, he reads a lot, and the vice division always has stories to tell, so he isn’t shocked, maybe a little uneasy, uncomfortable, although he could see Ruby seemed to be more fascinated than uneasy, which rather amused him.
“Yes, I thought I smelt rubber on you, are you still wearing…” He suddenly enquired quite calmly, taking her off guard.
“I don’t see my business is any of your business, Chief Inspector, but yes, under all this I am wearing rubber, and that’s why I’m so hot, why? Does that turn you on, haha. Would you like me to undress and show you?” Their eyes locked, but he didn’t reply.
“So you’re a hooker, whore, top notch call girl, dominatrix?” It is Ruby again, needling her, quite enjoying this, and he lets her do it. She is very good at this, getting people out of their comfort zone. He is interested to see if she can crack her icy cool, and after all, her fingerprints are on the suit, so she is in their cross hairs.
“Melodramatic, rather hyperbolic words, good for the tabloids, that’s all, I prefer therapist. I don’t get paid to have sex with them, never, and I’m not a call girl or hooker. Believe me, they go home happier than when they arrived, oh and by the way, I declare every pound I earn.”
“I wouldn’t be so cocky, Miss Gunn, you’re on very shaky ground… your fingerprints are at the scene, motive, means and opportunity. Our mantra.”
“My fingerprints may be, but I wasn’t. And what’s my motive? You’re wasting your time here.” She replies coolly.
He ignores her as he slowly moves around the room, while Ruby examines one piece of equipment after another, a look of surprise, and even a bit of amusement on her face. Rumours abound around the nick about Ruby’s sexual orientation, some say she is gay, but Benson puts it down to crushed male pride, for Ruby is not interested in any male approaches in the office, she keeps her private life private, and he admires her for that. He doesn’t care what sexual way she swings, he is only interested in the work she does, and she does it well. He scans the room again. In one corner Ruby is inspecting a suspended transparent rubber vacuum bed. Miss Gunn is happy to describe it.
“Hhmm, my rubber vacuum bed, we have lots of fun with that. The vacuum sucks out all the air and the victim is trapped between two sheets of rubber, while his mistress, me haha, can do anything she wishes with him. Or her.” Her eyes lock with Ruby, who is the first to look away. Benson is inspecting the interior of a large double skinned rubber bag, suspended by steel chains between a rectangular steel frame, Miss Gunn explains again.
“Ahh yes, and a suspended inflatable rubber body bag, we slide the victim in the back here, slide the arms into the sleeves, and zip him up. Or her.” She repeats and she smiles at Ruby again, who is looking quite uncomfortable now, score one for Miss Gunn. “Then I turn on the inflator pump until he feels he’s in the grip of a boa, or she, haha, can’t move an inch. With the strategically placed holes opposite groin and rear I can then have some entertainment teasing and torturing them, all in good spirit of course.” She smiles coolly.
“You know that is quite weird.” Ruby says, seemingly more in her defence as Miss Gunn has been needling her, rather than the opposite. Miss Gunn carries on, looking into the dark interior of the bag. Miss Gunn seems unmoved by the disparagement. Benson leaves her to it, watching these two sparring might expose a chink in her armour. Along one wall are open closets, showing racks of rubber clothing in all colours and sizes, full body suits, costumes, a nun’s, a schoolgirl’s, a nurse’s, dozens of them. The aroma of rubber is very strong, helped by the interlocking rubber tiles covering the floor and the rubber sheets acting as curtains hanging along the walls. A hospital gurney, with raised steel tubed sides and well placed leather cuffs is to one side, and a whipping bench on the other. There are also two steel frames, like door frames, rectangular and with reinforced bases, for stretching out a victim between the upright steel posts. There are cuffs for ankles and wrists and ropes and a pulley system for stretching the victim to the limit, like a star.
Next to them is a chair, not unlike an old executioner’s chair, although perhaps of the type still used in the US. It has cushioned back, arms and seat, but this seat has an ample opening in the middle allowing easy access to, well…. leather straps are strategically placed along the legs, arms, seat, and back. Like all of her equipment, it is beautifully made, and it’s use is very clear, to completely subdue its victim and make him, or her, the plaything of Miss Gunn. Benson takes a deep breath.
On shelves in glass fronted cupboards, visible to all, are a variety of rubber masks, some gas masks (like that found on Mr. Kemp, Benson notes) others inflatable, and others just skin-tight with no zip, clamping over the wearer’s skull, Benson inspects one having no holes at all, except tiny pinholes at the nostrils. Steel chains, cuffs, clamps, collars were displayed along another wall, together with medical equipment, he can see enema tubing and even a catheter in a sealed plastic bag. Under the shelves are a stack of drawers, like an architect’s chest of drawers, fully six feet long and five feet deep, with six pull out drawers. With Ruby by his side Benson pulls one to him and hears Ruby quietly gasp as they see laid out on black velvet a row of plastic and rubber dildos, vibrators and butt plugs of varying sizes and shapes, some with batteries lying next to them, and also a leather harness to go around her waist and thighs, with a plate at the front for locking in the dildos for strap-on action. There is even a remote-control device. Ruby looks at them silently, then says, more to Benson than Miss Gunn.
“I prefer the real thing.” But this just draws a smile from Miss Gunn, who replies sardonically.
“Oh, yes, I’m sure you do.” Their eyes lock again. “Don’t knock something you haven’t tried, sergeant, with one of these in my hands you might be surprised how I can make you feel. And with my harness here, I’m sure you would like some strap-on fun, with me at the business end of course.” They continued to stare at each other for a few seconds as Miss Gunn needled her.
“No thanks, you’re not my type.”
“Ha ha, you never know, I have some female clients, quite a few, and I get no complaints.”
Miss Gunn pulls out another drawer and turns to Benson.
“This one is for the boys. I like my men kept under full control.” He looks down and sees what are perhaps thirty or forty male chastity devices. There are plastic curved tubes, parallel steel rings held by lengthwise steel rods, and leather sleeves, all in a variety of sizes. Benson stares at them, his face emotionless. Miss Gunn picks one up, a nasty looking series of steel rings with, on the inside, steel spikes.
“This one will keep anyone in place, even you Chief Inspector. It’s all to do with discipline, for chastity devices it is a matter of self-discipline, or if you should start to become, erm aroused, then life can become quite painful.”
“What about these?” Ruby asks pointing at a row of plastic and steel one-inch diameter tubes, varying in length from a half inch to two inches.
“Ah yes, this will keep your Chief Inspector in shape, sergeant. These are locked around the base of the scrotum, they grip the sac tightly and make the balls more exposed and sensitive. Like the chastity devices they are locked on and are impossible to remove without a tiny key, which I usually keep, ha ha. I say usually, but often I permit a client to go home with a key, and he can take off or put on the device by himself.” She smiles conspiratorially.
“Some of my male clients are married or have girlfriends and it is not my wish to break up a relationship, not at all, but they know they must at all times obey me, I am after all their mistress, and that obedience extends beyond this room. So under clear instructions from me they will lock themselves into the tube or chastity device when not in the company of their loved one. It sounds absolutely ridiculous but, I assure you, out of respect for me, they do it. It’s all a matter of trust. That is the most important aspect of my business.” She plays with one of the devices, her eyes on Benson. “During the day, when they are at work, they are in chastity with a cage like one of these, or their balls are steel locked and very sensitive, or even both.” She chuckled. “It’s not painful, unless I have you in a spiked one, but certainly uncomfortable, and every second of the day they are made aware of it, and my power over them. This is not a fantasy, this happens. Why? Because they want it, they are excited by the knowledge that they are in chastity in public, and no one knows it, except me that is. Before they return home, they remove it. They come back to me and report their activities. They will sometimes go a month or six weeks between visits, in chastity and therefore under my control.”
She runs a finger along the steel rings of one device, now seeming to speak to herself.
“It’s the poor single unattached gentlemen that suffer, for I don’t provide them with a key, they must go the full course under chastity, without a chance of freedom. It means of course when they return they are extremely sexually starved, which makes for an exciting session I can have with them. I don’t do this to them every time, sometimes as a punishment, but it does keep them on their toes. But I can assure you I get no complaints, they always return. They love being obedient to a cruel and yet understanding mistress. Insane, that someone would allow themselves to be controlled like that? Perhaps, but it happens and more times, many more times than you might think. Just as there are people out there walking around right now working, meeting clients, having lunch, with butt plugs in their rears. Think on that.”
And then she goes to the earlier drawer and removes a remote.
“And with this remote, I can control my slave from up to 100 feet. Sometimes I go into town and take my remote with me. Now I know where a number of my clients live, and where they work. You will never find their names or addresses here, I keep them in a safe place you won’t find, so don’t try, in my business everything is on trust and discretion. And I won’t be disclosing any names to you. I don’t know about doctor/patient privilege, but I have my rules, my standards. Sometimes I may wait for them to go to lunch, or I might see them in the street, and just give them a quick jolt. Horribly cruel I know, but such fun. They know I am nearby, but they may not see me, it’s quite a game we play. They know they must obey me, for if they don’t, well…..”
“And why don’t they take the plugs out? You ask. Well that’s easy, it’s the same answer as before, because they are under my orders, my control, and the whole point is, that is what they want. They don’t know if I may be out there somewhere, maybe I’m not, but they know they must obey me, and they want to obey me. They want me to be in control of them, to give up their freedom, in a sense anyway, to me. Silly? It’s not for me to judge, but I have many contented and very loyal clients.”
Her long explanation has shocked them, but only to a degree. They are police after all, and have seen many shocking things. Benson tries to imagine himself at work, his cock locked in a steel cage, and his balls squeezed at their base and sensitive to any touch. And of course no one must know. He is aware of dominatrixes and their playrooms, but he - neither of them - were aware that their control over their clients extended into the outside world. This was new to them. Benson breaks the silence.
“All right, well done, you have shocked us, now can we get to the point of our visit? You, Miss Gunn, are a possible suspect in the er mysterious death of Mr. Joe Kemp. You have no alibi, and maybe he was blackmailing you, I don’t know but I will find out. You know all about the rubber scene and auto asphyxiation, I assume. That’s how your prints got onto his rubber suit, but the question is, when were they placed there? Under these rubber play scenarios it would be easy for you to kill him, and you have the opportunity as well. You meet him at the hotel or follow him there, you set it up with him, tie him down in rubber, get him excited and then turn off the air supply. And then you tidy up and leave. Very easy.”
He knows it is a bit flimsy, but he needs her reaction. She is cool, he has to admit that.
“Yes, and I leave my fingerprints there. Give me more credit than that, Chief Inspector. Well I have read the newspaper and I know, though I know the papers usually get it wrong, that he died of possible auto asphyxiation, but why would I kill him after giving him the money to help his company get on its feet again? Yes, he was a client, he was fun, we played many games, including auto asphyxiation, it’s a dangerous game, and should be done with an experienced partner, like me. I wouldn’t recommend it played alone, but it does add an extra dimension of excitement.” She leant against the drawers, crossing her arms under her breasts, which he has to admit were stunning.
“Look, his business was not doing well, I wanted to help, and we stopped our sessions about a month, six weeks ago, he didn’t have the money, but I was happy to help him financially. End of story, that’s it, I haven’t seen him since then. Oh, and by the way, I didn’t kill him.” She says sarcastically. As she is recounting this Benson has picked up a gas mask from the shelf. He opens it out and shows it to Ruby Adams, who raises her eyebrows. It is identical to the one Joe Kemp had been wearing. He then shows it to Miss Gunn.
“This one here. Is this for auto asphyxiation?”
“Yes it is, the air is controlled by the valve there on the rebreather bag.” She has a good idea that Benson knows this, but will play along.
“Hhhm, so he’s gagged with this rubber cock and must breathe through his nose from this bag and valve, and…. you… adjust the valve, to reduce the air and give him his…buzz.”
“Basically, yes. As I say you have to be very careful, and I wouldn’t recommend doing it on your own, if, that is, what Joe did.”
“Right, but what I don’t understand is that, if the valve was slightly open, how he could have asphyxiated? How long would it take?” Of course he hasn’t told her what the pathologist has told him, that the valve was slightly open when they found him.
“I don’t know Chief Inspector, because I am very careful with my clients and we never get nearly that far and I am always present.” Benson smiles and suddenly comes up with an idea. It’s a very silly idea, but he wants to try it anyway.
A Test With A Rubber Mask
“Well, why don’t we do a little experiment. Why not try it, see how it works, or more important, how it can go wrong. I will be the volunteer.” And Ruby leaps in.
“Hey boss, wait a minute, this isn’t a game, this is stupid. I don’t want any part…”
“But Miss Gunn is the expert, sergeant, right? Come on, if it wasn’t turned off, is it possible to actually asphyxiate?”
“Again, that would depend on the individ…”
“Yes, I get that, Joe was youngish and fit, and so am I, so…?”
Well he certainly is fit, thought Miss Gunn, he’s very attractive, she noticed that the second she met him, but she really doesn’t want to play his game, this is a challenge she would rather pass on, but she has a feeling this is a man who won’t take no for an answer.
“You won’t learn anything at all. I will be here all the time, so…”
“Just humour me, all right?” they stare at each other a full ten seconds, Ruby clearly unhappy with this little test, but knowing she’s out of it.
“All right, you want to play your game, sit here in the chair.”
“Your games, Miss Gunn, not mine.” He smiles grimly. Touché, she thinks, and takes the mask from him, as he sits down, placing his arms on the leather rests.
“I think we can dispense with all the straps.” He says drily.
“Boss, this is just stupid, and dangerous, and it doesn’t prove anything.” He thinks on this, nodding.
“Probably true, but it’s worth giving it a try, just humour me. Come on, Miss Expert.” Even Miss Gunn doesn’t seem very keen with proceeding, for she agrees with Adams, this was not proving anything, nonetheless he looks up at her and gives her the let’s-get-on-with-it look. She tells him to drop his head. He stares into the inside of the mask, the occlusive rubber, the large thick rubber cock pointing up at him, and for a couple of seconds he begins to have second thoughts, maybe this isn’t a good idea, but takes a breath and dips his face into the rubber.
He opens his mouth, accepting the thick cock, alarmed at its size, and he gags as it touches the back of his throat. No, not such a good idea, he thinks, the idea of him sucking a rubber cock can hardly ever have crossed his mind before, but he brings himself under control drawing in a deep rubber scented breath as she zips him down the back of his head. It is initially cold and clammy, but he’s sure it will warm up, but he certainly wouldn’t call it comfortable. He rolls his tongue around the rubber cock, how weird is this, he thinks.
He looks through the small glass apertures at Miss Gunn and she, with some reluctance, begins to screw in the rebreather bag. Immediately he draws in a deep breath, through his nose, of even more pungent rubber. Once it is screwed in she now says to him.
“All right, you’ll find you have to breathe in through your nose, which is the whole, or at least the main, point. It’s not to everyone’s taste, so to speak, but the sweet, at least I and my clients think it is sweet, aroma of rubber is an aphrodisiac to many of my clients. Are you all right so far?” He nods, he isn’t sure if the term all right describes having a large rubber cock gagging him, but he can breathe all right.
“All right I’ll give you a short twist.” And she then twists the valve slowly, watched closely by Ruby.
“I’ll give you a minute like this, you’ll be fine. Keep calm and draw in nice deep, even breaths.” He nods again, looking up to see Adams looking less shocked, and perhaps now more interested in this “experiment”. The smell of the rubber is now more intense but he is surprised that he doesn’t find it unpleasant, at least so far. After a minute or so Miss Gunn says.
“Okay, another twist.” And she twists the valve further, and he now notices he has to draw in air a lot harder, but still he is getting enough. He is now used (if you can be used) to the cock in his mouth, very effectively gagging him, and he closes his eyes, concentrating on breathing. Miss Gunn then tells him.
“All right, you are doing well, I’ll give you a minute like this and then take it down to the minimum setting. This is for my experienced clients, who are used to this, and don’t panic or get claustrophobic. I’m not happy with taking you to this level first time, so the second you feel as if you have a problem raise your hand. Hhmming won’t work. I’ll stand right here with my hand next to the valve, and we can have you out of the mask in seconds.” He nods as he waits and adjusts to the limited oxygen, looking down and seeing the rebreather bag now barely moving. Then she turns it down. He can see Adams is now concerned and she’s moved closer as well, just in case. Within half a minute he is getting light headed, just a tiny bit dizzy, but strangely, pleasantly so. He can still breathe, and still breathe sufficient oxygen to be aware of events around him. But certainly the feeling is odd, not arousing or stimulating, not for him anyway, just light headedness, perhaps like after a whiff of marihuana. But he is breathing, and he is alive. Miss Gunn now says, nodding.
“All right, enough,” she opens the valve and he inhales deeply, barely noticing the strong rubber perfume.
“I’m impressed, really, most people, even though they don’t think they will, get a bit panicky, you were very impressive. Maybe you got turned on.” She jokes as she unzips the mask pulls it off and the cock plops out of his mouth, covered in his saliva. He says nothing for a few seconds.
“So I survived. And Joe didn’t. Why? Because I’m fitter? No, something else, but what?” Miss Gunn can see him thinking hard, he has recovered quickly, his hair is a bit damp, and his face just a bit pink, but he looks fine… well, better than fine, she keeps thinking he is a pretty good looking fellow, but a dangerous one. She shows him the valve.
“This is not 100% failsafe but the valve has this tiny brake catch here. I took you down to the point where there is just a tiny sensitive notch, so if you want to lock it off completely there is a perceptible click you can just feel, go past there and it is closed, absolutely shut. And that is for very short periods with very, very experienced participants. I have just one client who I feel comfortable doing this with, no one else, and definitely not for you.” Now it is Adams who speaks, not dismissively, but pointing out the fairly obvious.
“Look, this wasn’t a scientific experiment, and it was bloody stupid. And what does it prove? Nothing really, maybe Kemp had a different metabolism to you, boss, yeah? I’m glad you got your jollies but if the Super…”
“That’s enough sergeant. I take your point, but I felt that it was an experiment worth taking, and thank you Miss Gunn for your…. assistance. All we know is that someone, anyone could, might have survived with the valve down to the minimum, but not closed.”
“I’m sure she could have told you that before, without you having to subject yourself to this.”
“Hhhm, again, you’re probably right, anyway, it wasn’t that much of an ordeal, I’m fine, and thank you for asking.” Miss Gunn is quite amused at this banter between them, his sergeant certainly has pluck, and also clearly cares for him. And who wouldn’t, she thought.
“But it doesn’t get us nearer to how he died, does it?”
Miss Gunn looks at them both, sadness on her face.
“I liked him, felt sorry for him. I know it sounds strange, but we, clients and I, build up a relationship, based on trust. In my business you have to have trust. The fingerprints on the suit, yes, mine okay, could have been there a long time. I help him into the suit and obviously my hands will be all over him, his suit, when we play, if I’m not wearing my rubber gloves, there will be fingerprints. Anyway, I wasn’t at that hotel that night, surely they must have cctv.”
“Actually it’s very poor, the cctv, the reception, the front door, but you could have sneaked in pretty easily I’m sure.”
“But then so could anybody else.”
“True, but do they have a motive?”
“Well I don’t, I was helping him, he wasn’t blackmailing me, that’s ludicrous, I was happy to help, I trusted him to pay me back.” As she speaks she unconsciously strokes the suspended inflatable rubber bag. Then she looks at them both, questioningly.
“Don’t you have people you can trust, in your business, colleagues?”
“No, actually not many, some colleagues yes, but I find most people I run into aren’t quite what they seem.”
“Well you are a cop, it seems to me I meet a better quality of people perhaps. Seriously perverted, and I mean that in the best sense, but not of the criminal persuasion.” Touché, he thinks. But he has to put a stop to this, he thinks he has enough for now but he needs to get it down on paper, and video.
“I’d like you to accompany us to the station, you’re not under arrest obviously, but we’d like you to make a statement, verify some points, get it all down for the record. Just a formality.”
“Do I have to come? No. So I don’t think so, thanks.”
“It’s in your best interest. What have you to hide?”
“I have nothing to hide at all, other than my professional privacy and your leering colleagues, no, I don’t think so, anyway dressed like this with the rubber suit underneath it would cause a bit of a stir.”
“You can change if you wish.”
“I’m sure you’d like to see me do that, peel the clinging rubber off my glistening skin, ha ha.”
Again, she is flirting a little, and well actually yes, he would…..
“This isn’t a game Miss Gunn, either you come of your free will or…”
“You’ll arrest me on suspicion.”
“Yes, I could do.”
“But you won’t, I’d be out in two hours. Give me a break.” She thinks for a while, scrutinising him.
“Okay, I’ll play your game, after all, you played mine, didn’t you? And I want to help find out what happened to poor Joe. Okay, can I change, I’m melting here under these lights. I’m used to this normally, but not with street clothes over my erm working gear, and being grilled by you two.”
“Only in our presence. I wouldn’t want you running off.”
“Ha ha, I thought so, might give your sergeant a kick too, ha ha. Having a quick peek.”
“In your dreams, lady.” Ruby says saltily. But Miss Gunn just smiles and pulls off her polo neck and leather pants. They don’t want to, but they both find themselves staring at her. The skin-clinging catsuit of gunmetal rubber accentuates her every curve, her stunning, voluptuous, contoured body. She has them staring at her and they know it. She runs her hands down her shiny waist and thighs.
“Would you like to help me out of this, it’s awfully tight.” She says playfully, but they both just shake their heads.
“Your loss.” She laughs, licks up her clothes and goes to the bathroom in the corner, leaving the door ajar. After fully ten minutes she has changed and comes out in the same polo neck and leather pants, still looking stunning, and a bit cooler, but Benson has to admit silently, not as stunning as when she was dressed in the rubber.
“Are you going to cuff me?” She holds out her hands submissively, pouting.
“You are coming of your free will, you can come and leave any time you want, to hold you we have to arrest you, and frankly I don’t mean to do that… yet.” The veiled threat is hollow, and he knows it.
“As I said, it would be a big waste of time for you. Perhaps I’d prefer you to cuff me, you are quite handsome, although,” she strokes her leather pants, “I bet I’ve cuffed as many people as you have over the last couple of years,” she laughs for a second, and then she’s serious, “but they were consensually cuffed.”
She seems unperturbed by being taken away by two police officers. Either she is a very good actress or she really is completely innocent. But somehow Benson doubts that.
“Okay, let’s get this out in the open and on the record, I don’t need my lawyer yet, and we can do it by the book and then you can let me go. Let’s not kid ourselves, you really don’t have enough, enough for anything, you don’t even know the circumstances of his death, so murder, or assisted suicide, or even misadventure is a big reach for you, and,” she stops, “you wouldn’t want to blot your copy book.” She studies him.
“You’re very young to be a DCI, very young, so obviously you are set for higher things, university educated?” He nods, he isn’t sure why he does that, just playing into her game. “And fast-tracked to Commissioner no doubt, so if I was you, I wouldn’t mess that up on my account.” She moves to the stairs and turns as she is about to turn off the lights.
“All right, let’s go. Oh, and by the way, just in case you didn’t get it the first time, I didn’t kill him, how could I? I wasn’t there, but I don’t have an alibi, that’s not good I know. As I said you’re not even sure it was murder, Joe was very careful, very experienced, so I will tell you one thing - it wasn’t an accident, so I suppose that leaves suicide… or murder, not misadventure. But then it’s your job to figure that out, isn’t it? You’re the brilliant copper.” She smiles and turns off the lights as they follow her out.
On the drive to the station, no words are spoken, but the three in the car have plenty to think on.
Miss Emma Gunn
Poor Joe, I warned him a number of times that the games we played could be dangerous and we should always play with a partner. It’s all very sad, but one thing I know is that it wasn’t a suicide. Misadventure? Hhmm, perhaps but he was normally pretty careful, no, I don’t think so. And what does that leave? Murder, hard to believe, but that’s the only solution I can think of. And it’s a pretty callous way of going about it. So he did have a partner, and then this so called partner decided to take things into their own hands, but why? Seems to me that the murderer is wanting to plant it on me. So did the murderer know me, and if so, how? I suppose it could be one of his business partners, get him out of the way, take control of the company, but how do they, one or both, get into the room? They can’t be into the rubber scene as well, surely? The police will very soon find out Joe’s private life.
This Chief Inspector now, Benson, yes he’s clearly very bright, and fast-tracked to the top for sure. He’s certainly very handsome too, haha, tall, slim, athletic, nice features, a bit shy perhaps, but definitely not to be underestimated. No ring, so single. Didn’t give off any vibes to my gaydar, so straight then. Cool as a cucumber, and yet a little shy with all the rubber gear maybe? Hard to believe knowing what he sees every day. Maybe I intimidated him? No, don’t think so, he seemed to take my playroom in his stride, all the rubber and equipment didn’t seem to phase him too much. He’s a bit of a dark horse anyway, and why get me to put him in the rubber gasmask, what was the point of that? Very odd, was he just playing with me?
What would nearly suffocating yourself in the mask prove? I can imagine him sucking on the rubber cock, I wonder if he’s done that before, no, don’t think so. Quite funny seeing him in street clothes with the mask on, but he kept very calm, yes he’s a cool one. I wouldn’t mind adding to the mask with a rubber suit on him and maybe ball rings and a chastity device, hhmm, that would be fun. Handsome, great body, he must have a woman somewhere, surely. Anyway a cop and a dominatrix, not really an ideal partnership, pity.
But if he’s that clever why can’t he see I am innocent? I suppose so far I’m the best lead they have. There’s the wife, and the business partners, and then the mysterious partner who he plays with, and then it goes nasty, that has to be it. Find the play partner. If this gets out then the gutter press will be all over me, I don’t like that idea at all, but I can’t do anything about it.
His sergeant, forgot her name. She’s a cute one, very pretty in a boyish way and yet as tough as nails, protects her boss, maybe she has a crush on him? No, I don’t think so. I saw her expression a couple of times as I went through the dildos and butt plugs, didn’t faze her at all. Maybe she hangs out with the ladies, hhmm, that’s a thought, I’ll have to keep an eye on her, I wouldn’t mind having her in the rubber vacuum bed, that would be fun, take a few chips off her shoulder. Well, this is going to be interesting. I am innocent, I know it, they don’t and yet I have a lot to lose, the clients will run for the hills if there is a hint of police around my place, pity, but my kind of stuff is all innocent and consensual, but it sells papers. I’m going to have to point them in another direction.
Sergeant Ruby Adams
Well that was one weird interview. She’s a tough one all right, didn’t back down one bit, but then I suppose you’d expect that from a dom. A real beauty and with brains and balls to go with it. I didn’t phase her at all, and neither did Benson, which was surprising. And what was he up to with the gas mask and the thick rubber cock, trying to suffocate himself, he’s a strange one sometimes, Benson. Dances to a different piper for sure. Did it prove anything? Maybe, but surely someone experienced as Kemp will know how far to turn the valve before cuffing himself. But we didn’t really prove that anyway. I think she liked putting Benson through the ropes, got a kick from it, hell, maybe Benson did.
I got the feeling she was rather enjoying the whole interview. Either she’s a very good liar, or a very cool customer, or both. But she’s not out of the woods yet, maybe we can squeeze her a bit more, yes, I think we’ll have to rattle her chain a bit. Either this is a sex game gone wrong, and she could have been with him and done it, or suicide? No, I don’t think so, not a good choice for suicide, and Kemp was probably too experienced to screw up, so that means someone was with him. But who, and how did they get in? And out? And if it is murder, and we have little proof other than a gut feel, then she’s still number one for it.
She seems to have buckets of money, you have to have with the rubber gear and equipment she has, and probably some loyal and rich clients - so why kill someone for a lousy £30,000 total. She could make that in a week or two. Maybe she had an affair with this Kemp, and her husband got jealous… no, that’s stupid, and I didn’t see a ring and we have her down as single. She may be gay as well, she certainly gave me a couple of good looks, playing with those dildos and vibrators. She certainly had quite a stock, I wonder if she uses some in her private time. And some of that gear, the suspended vacuum bed, never seen one of them before, and the inflatable body bag, if I got stuck in that she could do anything she wanted to me, sheez, and she looked as if she’d like to.
It has to be her, who else is there, and she’s certainly clever enough to do it, but motive is the weakness. So, back to poor Kemp simply not playing carefully enough?
Chief Inspector Sam Benson
That didn’t go quite as expected. I don’t know why but she had me off balance most of the time. I’m used to very smart criminals, very smooth ones, but she had a smartness mixed with cool candour as well. She has to be our number one suspect and yet she didn’t seem to be concerned at all, even when Ruby went after her, I think she rather enjoyed that. Or was it a very good bluff.
She certainly is beautiful, stunning. No wonder men pay a very large amount for her to, well, do whatever they desire, I suppose. And when she took her street clothes off and underneath was the rubber catsuit, well, no red-blooded male wouldn’t want to be with her, or woman as well?
Is she gay then, so the men she has as clients she doesn’t find attractive. I’ve always heard it said that it’s just business, even if there is respect and discretion, as she said. Yet she sort of flirted with me, and Ruby come to think of it, or is that just my ego. But why would she kill Kemp? She’s pots of money, so unless he upped the blackmail, it wouldn’t hurt her too much. She seemed genuinely saddened by his death, but again, good acting?
What a place she had, all that rubber clothing, and the strange equipment, she certainly knows her profession all right. I was familiar with most of it, but seeing it up close was very strange indeed, imagine putting yourself in her hands, completely, giving up everything, for her to do to you exactly as she wishes. Some would get off on that, but me? I don’t know, but she certainly is gorgeous.
Why did I try the damn mask on? I didn’t really prove anything although I think Kemp, being experienced would be unlikely to make that mistake. I was getting a bit dizzy there, but had enough oxygen to survive, I think. God, what did Sergeant Adams think of me sucking on a rubber cock. Stupid idea really, god, I hope it doesn’t get around the station. I think I can trust Adams, I sure hope so, dumb move really. Maybe I did it to shock her, get her out of her stride, but it didn’t phase her though, she was cool and very professional.
But if it wasn’t suicide (according to Miss Gunn, anyway) or misadventure, then that leaves, yes, and the finger, so far points to her, but with no hard evidence at all.
We’ll put some pressure on her.
story continued in part 2