Trapped

by Annalise Barker

 

PC Marcus Bell had been a policeman for a little over three years, serving in a rather nice area in the Metropolitan Police area in West London. It was his first posting and was starting to really get to know his area, and a lot of the people that lived and worked in it. Most of the colleagues he had joined with had ended up in very different areas to himself, places such as Brixton, Croydon, Romford as well as locations including the famous West End Central in the heart of the capital. To be honest, Marcus had enjoyed his time so far, but occasionally felt he missed out on some of the action. Yes they had their fair share of busy moments, but it was altogether a different ball game to many other places.

Tuesday started like any other day when he was on an early shift. Tea making was no longer his job, so the new boy Jack had to get the kettle on for the coffees and teas first thing. Half an hour later Marcus had his head buried in paperwork as usual, when the inspector walked in. "PC Bell, can I see you in my office."

Marcus was scratching his head thinking what he had done wrong as he headed into the office. "Sit down. And relax, you are not in trouble." Marcus inwardly sighed with relief. "Do you know Highland Grove; it is on your beat?"

"Yes I know it. We don’t get too many jobs down there to be honest, but I do know it. It’s a rather exclusive private residential street just off Bywaters Road," replied Marcus. "Correct. Undoubtedly the vast majority of people who live there are perfectly law-abiding, decent folk, but we have two houses down there that our people have been watching for some time. Have you noticed anything odd in passing in that neck of the woods?" asked the inspector. Marcus shook his head. "No Sir, I haven’t."

"Right then, listen, Marcus. It is Marcus isn’t it?" Marcus nodded, so the inspector continued. "There are two women who live next door to each other at numbers 24 and 26. Outwardly they are perfectly respectable. Both are divorcees, in their late thirties, and it seems that they jointly run some kind of mail order business from there. Again, nothing wrong with that, other than some discrepancies with the odd tax return. The Inland Revenue have sent an investigator to talk to these women over the past six months, but he has since gone missing. The problem is that we have had no grounds to go and search the houses. Of course the women have been spoken to, but claim they have never seen the man. This time we want to put in our own officer, someone reasonably young, but this time we shall say he is from Trading Standards – something official again, with power to go into the premises. What we don’t want to do is charge in with all guns blazing, so-to-speak, and blow the whole investigation. The crux of this is that I have consulted the powers that be, plus your own superiors, and you have been selected for this challenging role. What do you say?"

Marcus has listened intently while the inspector had talked, but when the final question came, it took him by surprise and he was a little stuck for words. "Why me? Do you think I would be up to it? I don’t know about this…" he stuttered. The inspector began to reassure him and explained that up to ten other officers had been considered and then rejected. They had studied various attributes of each officer, and the conclusion was that Marcus Bell would be the man for the job. "Need I say that this will be looked on favourably in the future, when you move on to bigger and better things. I’ll leave it with you for a few days, just to think it over, but get back to me as soon as you come to a decision."

He did think about it long and hard, but he realised that much thinking had gone into this by officers far more experienced than him, and that in the end he was just doing his job. By the Thursday he was back in the inspector’s office and was given the details of his new role. They were joined by a sergeant from a covert undercover team who briefed him on the finer arts of the type of work he was to start. It was a long day, and by 4 o’clock Marcus was exhausted, both physically and mentally. The following day was much the same, and he was glad to finish and get the weekend off.

Monday came and there was Marcus standing back in the same office, this time with no police uniform, but instead a normal suit, not too expensive, not too cheap. He had to look the part, and was given much of the same paperwork as a Trading Standards officer would carry. The last words came from the inspector. "Remember to leave your warrant card behind. It would be a bit of a giveaway if that were to drop out at a crucial moment."

An hour later he was being dropped off at the top of Highland Grove and walked down to the front of Number 24. He had walked down here before, but this time he stood and looked straight at the front of this magnificent house. Goodness knows how many bedrooms the place had, but it was huge from what he could see of it, and seemed to stretch back a long way too. There was a long driveway that led up to the house. It was quite sheltered by maturing trees, and the ground floor of the house was pretty much hidden from the road.

Marcus walked up to the front door and pressed the bell. It took several seconds before he finally heard footsteps coming to the door, and then it opened in front of him. What stood before him was a glamorous woman, possibly around 38 years old, with long, flowing blond hair, swept back off her neckline and held with just a single butterfly hair clip on one side. Her face was beautifully made up, with a deep red lipstick, brown eye shadow and eyes carefully defined with eyeliner and mascara. She seemed to have a flawless complexion from where he was standing, enhanced by a delicate touch of blusher. On her top she wore a cream-coloured blouse through which Marcus could see a pretty white lacy bra and with his experienced eye he could see she had lovely breasts. When he tore his eyes off them he saw she was wearing a long black pencil skirt that came down to just above her ankles. She wore black tights or stockings and had some high heels on, accentuating her feminine style and grace.

The woman could hardly fail to see the way Marcus looked at her. He wished he could say that it was a purely professional appraisal, but that would be denying his manhood, and the natural urges that went with it. "Can I help you young man?" she asked. Marcus was almost twenty-five, and it was rare that anyone other than old ladies called him ‘young man’. He was not offended, but felt strangely apprehensive. There was no logical reason to feel like that; the woman was charming, beautiful, and clearly not short of a few quid. "Eh, yes," he mumbled, before regaining his confidence. "I’m Marc Bellow from Trading Standards. I understand you have been running a business from this house for a few months. If that is the case, I am required to inspect your premises and the products you are selling to make sure you are falling within our standards for this type of business."

"I’m honoured. I never realised there were so many rules and regulations for running a little business like mine. Come in, come in." She closed the door behind them and led the way through the grand hallway out to the rear of the house through into a conservatory where he was astonished to see a 25-metre swimming pool covered with glass walls and ceiling. There was a wide surround to the pool, with a table and chairs on the right. Then he noticed another woman swimming towards him in the pool. She looked a similar age to the first woman, but had long, dark brown hair, flowing behind her in the water. He could see she had a swimming costume on, but it was difficult to make out under the water. "Is that a visitor I see before me? Why didn’t you tell me Carolyn? I would have dressed," said the woman in the pool with a mock scolding tone to her voice.

"Now Amanda! I don’t have to tell you everything, and anyway I wasn’t expecting him either. This lovely man has come to speak to us about the business. He is from Trading Standards," the first woman replied.

"Why don’t you come in for a dip?" asked the woman he now knew as Amanda, still swimming towards him. "What a brilliant idea," said Carolyn. "In fact I insist. I won’t answer any of you questions until you do."

Marcus knew this was far from normal practice for any type of officer, but what was he to do. If he turned around now, it would all be for nothing. ‘What harm could it do?’ he thought. "I haven’t got anything to wear." Before he had gone any further, Carolyn handed him a pair of swimming shorts and pointed him towards a screen that he could change behind. Three minutes later he was changed and swimming alongside Amanda. She was a graceful swimmer, and close up, was every bit as attractive as her friend.

Meanwhile Carolyn was moving Marcus’ clothes out to the front, in order that she too could get changed behind the screen. A few moments later she emerged wearing a miniscule bright pink swimsuit. The top part only just held up her breasts, whilst the bottom was just a connecting thong. When she turned around to lay her skirt over one of the chairs, he saw a great big bow at the top of the thong – very flirty. She slipped into the pool and the three swam alongside each other for a few lengths of the pool.

Afterwards they stood and talked for a while. The conversation was not about anything much. It seemed as if neither he, nor they, wanted to pry too much. When they finally climbed out, Marcus saw that Amanda had the same style of swimsuit, but in a bright red colour, and had an equally great body. He was really struggling to keep his eyes averted from both girls’ suits. "Are you okay Marc?" asked Carolyn. "Yes, fine thanks," he replied. Carolyn continued, "Are you hungry? Of course you are. I have been so rude. I’ll fix a bite of lunch for us all."

With that she disappeared, leaving Marcus with the gorgeous Amanda. They looked rather similar in many ways, and he began to wonder aloud if they were sisters. "Yes we are," she answered. "You are very observant… and do you know you have a great body too?" Marcus went a little red at this remark, which seemed to please Amanda. He did not consider himself to have much of a body and it normally embarrassed him at the gym. He had tried to build himself up, partly for the job he did, but he had quite a small frame, and could never see much of a difference for all the effort he put in. "Thank you," he replied. The conversation moved back onto boring day-to-day topics, until Carolyn reappeared with lunch on a large tray. She had not bothered getting changed and just looked great in her pink swimsuit. "Would you like to be Mum?" Carolyn asked. "Of course," said Marcus. "Oh, before you do that, let me just give you this." Marcus turned towards her and was suddenly enveloped in a cloud of some sweet-smelling spray. Before he had the chance to react, his head started to spin, and he lost consciousness.

Marcus awoke, not knowing how long he had been out of it. He was alone in a large bedroom, lying in a huge four-poster bed, but his arms were held with two wide leather straps. The swimming shorts were gone, and he was naked as the day he was born. He started to feel a tide of rising panic, thinking of what had happened to the other man. "Help, help," he shouted. No answer, nothing. He estimated another ten minutes had gone by when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. "Help," he called again. The door swung open and Carolyn stood there in the outfit that he had seen her in on his arrival. "Hello Marcus Bell, how are you feeling? Before you ask, I found your police warrant card in your trouser pocket. My, my, don’t they get younger every day. You are far too lovely to be a policeman. What are we going to do with you now?"

Marcus stayed silent now. He had been discovered by exactly the thing the inspector had told him to leave behind. Now he was really nervous. At that moment Amanda walked in and stood next to her sister. She too had changed out of her swimsuit, but was wearing a skin-tight black PVC outfit. She already had an amazing body and this suit just made all the good bits look better. She had a tiny skirt on, from under which he could see four suspender straps poking out, to hold up a pair of fantastically sheer black stockings with beautiful lacy tops. She had thigh-high shiny patent leather boots. On her top was a sleeveless and backless crop-top that squeezed her breasts together and upwards. Her hair was tied up on the top of her head and her make up was perfect; bright red lipstick, strong blusher and pink eye shadow. She had a studded black leather choker around her neck with matching studded leather bracelets. Then he noticed a small whip in her right hand, and his heart began to pound faster. "Amanda, have some patience my girl. Let’s give the boy a chance. We shall do it my way first, and if that fails, well then let’s look at other ways."

"Gosh you are so boring sometimes," joked Amanda. Clearly she had more of an urge to get on with whatever it was they had planned for the helpless boy laying on the bed. "What are you going to do to me?" quaked Marcus.

"We’d like you to stay with us," said Carolyn, in a very matter-of-fact manner. "We want you to share in some of the things that we experience. Things you may have only dreamt of in the past. Or maybe things you have never in a million years dreamt of. Possibly both, who knows? Am I confusing you yet?"

Marcus was more than a little confused. "Why am I tied up like this? I’m no threat to you." Carolyn’s expression said it all. "Excuse me! You come in here as an undercover cop, clearly with some secret mission, and you say you are no threat! I don’t know what you people think we do here, but we are not criminals."

"Okay, so where did the other man go? The inspector from the Inland Revenue?" asked Marcus. "Ah so that’s what this is all about," said Amanda. "I had a horrible feeling that might come back and bite us on the bum."

Carolyn began to talk again. "That man is no longer. But it’s not what you think. No harm came to him. He’s fine. In fact he has never felt better in his life, loves life like never before. That is because we opened up a whole new world to him, a world he had lived alongside for his whole life, but wasn’t really aware of until he met us, came to our house."

"What are you on about?" whispered Marcus. "Are you two completely mad? Don’t you think my colleagues will come looking for me?"

"Marcus my sweet, of course they will come looking for you, and I will tell them that you came and went. It will be days before they come back again, and by then the problem will be sorted. As for your first question, it will be answered in due course," said Carolyn. With that she stepped forward and sprayed again.

He woke up again and felt different. His chest felt a little sore and his member was feeling numb. Amanda walked in holding a tiny pair of black silky panties. She told him to relax or else, and slipped the panties up his legs. Marcus had only ever worn cotton boxers before, and even in his restricted state, these felt wonderful as they slid up his legs. When he looked down, he saw that the blond hair that had previously covered his chest and legs was gone. His mind started to race, racking his brain to think what was going on. Amanda stayed quiet as she began to rub his cock through the shiny material and Marcus quickly lost his train of thought. He lasted all of about thirty seconds before he erupted into the panties and collapsed back onto the bed. Amanda removed the panties and cleaned him up with tissues. "Did you enjoy that my pretty little girlfriend?" Before Marcus had chance to realise the significance of what was said, she was gone.

This happened twice more that morning, but the second time Amanda had brought in a silky black bra and laid it across his sensitised chest. As she brought him to climax, she began to caress his nipples through the bra material. After the third time, Carolyn returned and sprayed him again.

When Marcus awoke this time, Carolyn was standing at the end of the bed, dressed in beautiful lingerie. She had high heels that complimented her long legs clad in cream stockings. At the top of the fantastic legs, the stockings were clipped to four suspender straps hanging from an extremely feminine delicate white lacy Basque with a classic under-wired bra. She wore a white four-strand pearl choker around her neck, with her hair tied up in two ponytails and make up that was as flawless as earlier. Marcus could barely contain himself. "Like what you see?" she asked. He didn’t answer that before she walked slowly around the side of the bed and climbed gently onto the bed, kneeling astride the helpless policeman. She reached down and took hold of his cock and began to stroke it playfully until it was rock-hard. With her other hand she reached down and began rub his balls, around the sides and behind near to his other hole. The feeling was mind-blowing, but just when Marc thought it could not get any better, Carolyn forward and carefully slipped his now fully erect cock inside her and began to move, up and down, backwards and forwards, riding him until he was screaming. He could feel her squeezing him inside. Never in all his life had he been fucked like this. This woman had control over him like no other; Marcus did not consider himself unadventurous, but he did prefer to be on top and in charge. This was about as far from being in charge as he could get; this gorgeous woman, 13 years his senior, had him tied up and was screwing him like he was the girl, totally defenceless and under her control. "How was that my pretty one?" when Marcus finally came inside her. His head was swimming as he pumped his juices into her and before he could answer, Carolyn reached behind her before spraying him again.

This time when he woke, the straps had gone. When he checked the door, it was locked tight. He began to explore the room and discovered the wardrobe was stuffed full of clothes, but they were all women’s clothing. Then he looked in the drawers. They too were full, but only with delicate, feminine lingerie, the type he had seen Carolyn wearing earlier. Apart from these there was nothing at all to wear. He was still naked and felt very vulnerable. He noticed that both of his upper arms ached, and when he checked, he saw several tiny injection marks in each one. He was still very tired and wasn’t sure what was going on. The frightened feeling he had felt earlier had gone, and he felt himself starting to wonder about what all these clothes felt like. Why was he having these new feelings? He wasn’t a girl, he was a boy; he had a job, but Marcus couldn’t remember what it was. He could not recall why he was at this strange house, but he could definitely remember Amanda and Carolyn. He was getting cold by this time, and decided to try on some of the clothing that was there in the room. Although still not sure what he was doing or why, he reached for the drawer that contained the lingerie and pulled out a silky black thong. It took him a minute to work out which way round the garment was supposed to face, but then he took each leg in turn, and put it into the opening. The smooth material slipped up his hairless legs and the panties were a remarkably good fit. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if he had hips that the thong sat on, womanly hips, broad, leading up to a neat, girlish waist. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him, until he found himself drawn to the selection of sexy bras in the next drawer. Why would he need one of these? When he glanced down to his chest, he knew why. He had breasts. They weren’t huge, but they were certainly women’s breasts needing support. In his dazed state, Marcus failed miserably in trying to fasten the bra behind his back and started to get upset. What was going on? And why was he getting so emotional about it? Maybe he could find something to keep his legs warm instead. The next drawer had more tights and stockings than he had ever seen before. There were all the colours in the rainbow, some soft thick material, and others were the sheerest fine nylons in existence. Despite his cold, Marcus picked out a pair of sheer black Lycra tights, perhaps only a 7 denier. He sat down on the side of the bed and began to pull up the first leg. In a moment, the tights were ruined, laddered to hell. Now a few tears began to roll down his cheeks. He lay back onto the bed and cried himself back into a deep sleep.

"Chantelle, wake up, Chantelle," cooed Carolyn in her ear. "She’s still out of it Caro; perhaps we should leave it another hour. She will have a lot of adjusting to do, getting used to her new body, and her new mind too," whispered Amanda. "I can’t believe how well it has worked this time. This is the one we’ve been waiting for. What did you do with that last batch?"

"Shush, I think she’s coming round," said Carolyn. "Where am I? What happened? Carolyn, Amanda, help me," cried the newly awoken Chantelle. "Don’t worry we’re here for you now my pretty. We’ll give you all the help you need. You’re safe now," comforted Carolyn. She took the girl before her into her arms and held her tight against her bosom, rocking gently backwards and forwards on the side of the four-poster bed. "There, there. Everything’s going to be alright. There’s nothing to be scared of; you’re with friends. We are here for you now," she whispered.

The two sisters had triumphed. For several years now, they had been running a successful business for women across Europe. They had been selling a drug that enabled strong-minded women to turn over-bearing partners and husbands into simpering little she-males. Most of the work was done through specific mind techniques, cultivated over many years of trial, and the occasional error. When they started, demand had been small, but with the right advertising, business had boomed. Never in their wildest dreams did they realise there were so many women out there who would happily trade a strong successful man for a beautiful maid, willing to do anything at her beck and call. Where the drug had come in was the next stage beyond simply dressing up their partner and humiliating them in their own home. Queries had started to arrive asking about changing their men for good, both physically and mentally. Results had been mixed, but had improved over the years. The final transformation had seemed impossible back then, but now they had finally perfected it. A combination of a hypnotic spray and specially doctored female hormones, administered by subcutaneous injection. Here in front of them was a girl for all to see. She was pretty, feminine, and 100% female both in body and mind. Of course she had a lot to learn about the finer arts of femininity, but the raw materials were there, and now when the police arrive, which they were certain to, they would only find three beautiful women at the house.

Over the next few days, the two women slowly helped Chantelle come to terms with her womanhood. They had to tread gently; a natural born girl has years to perfect her femininity, watching her body change before her eyes in puberty, then dressing in grown up clothes. From the plain clothes of girlhood, she learns the wonders of soft materials against her body, the seductive allure that clothing can have. She slowly begins appreciating the power that women hold over men; a subtle power, that even men do not always realise they have over them. All this was to be taught to Chantelle in just a few days.

By the start of day three, Amanda entered her bedroom to help her dress. "You’re up!" she exclaimed. Chantelle was standing before her dressed. When she had awoken 45 minutes earlier, Chantelle had decided to impress her tutors and mentors. She had quickly showered, and dried her hair with the blow drier and diffuser, before carefully putting her smooth brunette locks into a French plait on the back of her head. She reached to the lingerie drawers, selected a pair of lacy panties in a delicate lilac colour and slid them up her shapely legs. Of course they now sat just right on her wide hips, and her full bottom filled them beautifully. A matching lacy bra and short silk slip completed the underwear look. The bra had taken some mastering, or should she say ‘mistressing’, but she had got there in the end. It seemed so much easier doing it the way Carolyn had showed her; clip it together at the front, turn it around and gently ease each cup in turn over her pert breasts, before slipping the straps over her shoulders. Once on, she could feel the weight of her breast gently pulling on the straps, and it made her feel all grown up. Chantelle was not even sure how old she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. Everything was new and exciting, even if she still had some apprehensions, but Amanda and Carolyn were there for her to keep her safe, and Chantelle loved them for it.

She had tried on many different pairs of tights and stockings over her first few days of womanhood, and although she loved the allure and sexiness of stockings and suspenders, tights were just so much more comfortable. Okay, not for going out with a boy, but she was spending the day around the house, so she would wear what she felt happy in. Amanda had been visiting more often lately, and would often just come and talk. They would talk about all things girly – clothes, make-up, perfume, hair, and lately, about boys. Amanda had occasionally brought magazines into the bedroom and they had sat together looking at pictures of boy-bands, body builders, footballers… There were fantasy magazines too, with gorgeous men dressed up in builders’ outfits, businessmen, firemen, policemen, doctors, lifeguards etc. Chantelle confided in Amanda one day, that uniforms made her feel all funny inside. She wasn’t sure why, but it was a nice feeling. Amanda smiled to herself.

The girls had been so nice in providing such a lovely choice of clothes for her wardrobe, that Chantelle had great difficulty in picking out her outfit. There were skirts, dresses, blouses, skirt suits, sarongs, swimsuits and bikinis, lovely tennis outfits, and even some fabulous lycra leotards for her aerobics and ballet sessions, as well as other items for special occasions such as ball-gowns and cocktails dresses. In the end she decided on something simple; a plain short black skirt with a cream blouse, both of which accentuated all her feminine curves. In such a short time she had learned to adore the feel of wearing skirts; all types of skirt. A long skirt is just so classy. It’s warm, but also feels so free; nothing trapping your legs. If it’s a tight one, your feet have to take small, delicate steps, so feminine-like. Chantelle particularly loved wearing short flared, pleated skirts. They are so flirty, and you feel as free as a bird underneath. It is almost like you aren’t wearing anything at all, with the feeling of the breeze going up your skirt. The one time she had been allowed out into the rear garden, she had been wearing a skirt like this one, and it was a feeling like she had never experienced. The garden was bounded by high trees and thick bushes, with no chance of anyone overlooking it. Something had come over Chantelle and she had just felt the desire to run and skip across the extensive lawns. No tights today, so the warm breeze had been gently playing on her silky-smooth thighs as she had played. Amanda and Carolyn had watched Chantelle from the terrace and had laughed together, enjoying her pleasure almost as much as Chantelle.

One time, the previous afternoon, Chantelle had been a bit naughty. Amanda had told her exactly what to wear, which included a short, flared, black pleated skirt, with a pair of full knickers underneath. Amanda had said to meet her downstairs in two minutes, but before Chantelle had joined her, she had slipped off her knickers and pulled on one of her sheer thongs. The feeling of the soft material going up her thighs, before nestling between her cheeks, was heavenly. Of course neither Carolyn or Amanda would notice, and she had felt a surge of excitement at being a very bad girl as she smoothed out her skirt.

Chantelle finished off applying her luscious red lipstick and lip gloss, and headed down to meet her teachers. As she descended the long staircase, the door chime sounded. She froze on the stairs. She wasn’t sure what she was nervous about, but she had never met anyone other than her two mentors. Her memory of events before coming to the house was gone and she did not know what to expect from the outside world. In what seemed like an eternity, she waited, before Carolyn finally emerged from the dining room and headed towards the front door. As she glided across the hallway, Carolyn noticed Chantelle standing on the staircase. "Don’t worry darling. You stay there, and I’ll see who is calling. Just remember – we are always going to be here to protect you."

Carolyn opened the large door and began to talk to the callers. After a minute, Carolyn said, "Of course. Come right in gentlemen."

Chantelle watched from her high position on the stairs as two be-suited men walk into the hallway. "Amanda, Chantelle! Could you come to the hall please," called Carolyn. After a few seconds, Amanda walked out from the conservatory area. She must have been swimming when the door chime had rung, and was just pulling on a long silk flimsy cream-coloured dressing gown as she entered the hall. Chantelle could see she was wearing a sleek purple Lycra swimming costume, that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The high cut legs accentuated her womanhood, and highlighted her rounded hips at the top of her smooth, trim thighs. Amanda’s breasts were as good as any of the top models, and Chantelle could see that this was clearly not lost on the two men watching her entry. She was clearly teasing them as she pulled the slinky material tight against her, outlining her breasts through the fabric.

"Good afternoon gentlemen," asked Amanda. "What do we owe the pleasure?"

"These fine fellows want to ask us some questions," Carolyn answered for them. "They are policemen doing house to house enquiries."

"Yes ladies; we are investigating a missing person and…" the taller of the two started to say."

"Chantelle! Chantelle! Could you come down here," Carolyn called. "There are two policemen here that would like to ask us some questions." Chantelle slowly walked down the long staircase, and she could see the eyes of both men were locked on her as she took each delicate step. She looked down, shyly, but glanced up to see they were not just looking at her beautifully made-up face, but checking her out all over her body. As far as she could remember, she had not actually met any real men before, so this was a new experience for her. She reached the bottom of the stairs and it took Carolyn to break the silence. "Well what can we help you with officers?"

"Eh, yes," the man started again, struggling to avert his gaze at the 25 year old babe standing in front of them. "As I said, we are looking into the disappearance of a man in this area. He was believed to have been last seen on this road last Monday, and according to his friends and relatives, there is no obvious reason why he would have not returned, or at the very least contact them." The man then described the ‘missing’ person to the women in front of him, before Amanda asked him what the missing person was doing in their road. "Eh, well, he, eh, he was working for Trading Standards." Amanda and Carolyn both expressed their concern for his welfare, but said they had no knowledge of seeing anyone matching that description. The same officer turned to Chantelle. "And you madam? I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name… have you seen anyone like this in the area?"

Chantelle hesitated. Something about what he had been saying sounded familiar, but she had no idea what. In her delicate feminine voice she answered, "No, I’m sorry, I haven’t really been out this week. I haven’t seen anyone. I hope his family are coping alright. Oh, and my name is Chantelle." The two men were almost drooling when she had finished replying to their question. Carolyn interrupted their stares, "Is there anything else we can do for you officers? Would you like a drink or something to eat while you are here? You must be exhausted asking all these questions. I have always admired the police force. You have such a hard job to do. Please let us make something for you."

The men clearly knew they should be getting on, but were fighting with their natural urges to stay in the presence of three such beautiful women. "Well I’m sure that a cup of tea would not hurt. I am rather thirsty," said the smaller of the two officers as he spoke for the first time.

They all went through to the swimming area and sat down on the chairs at the side. "Perhaps you might feel more refreshed after a dip in our pool? We have some shorts you can borrow," Amanda teased them. Before they could answer, she had slipped off her gown, revealing her slender body in all its glory. "Chantelle. Go and take off that skirt and get some swimwear on." Amanda reached behind the screen and pulled out the shorts, handing them to the two men before they could say a word. "The screen is there should you wish to preserve your modesty!" She winked seductively at them. Even though they were both seasoned detectives, both men blushed profusely and Amanda laughed to herself. After a minute or so, the men came out from the screen, just in time to watch Amanda sliding into the water. She turned to them and flipped her hair back. "Come on then boys. What are you waiting for?" They looked at each other before jumping in beside her. Several minutes of laughing and splashing went by, during which Carolyn came in and carefully folded the clothing left by the men behind the screen. With all the fun they were having, this went unnoticed, and Carolyn smiled to herself as she walked out.

Moments later, the men stopped what they were doing, in an almost involuntary reaction. A vision of feminine beauty was room, as Chantelle walked in wearing a similar outfit that Carolyn had worn on that first day. The bright pink bikini thong was clearly having a devastating affect on the two men in the pool. It rose up between her legs, dividing her womanhood in two halves. The strings wound horizontally across her high hips, and when she turned, they could see this continued across her back above her fantastic round bottom to the centre where it was finished off with the large pink bow. There wasn’t much more to the bikini bra top; fine pink string connecting the two small triangles of silky fabric covering Chantelle’s beautiful pert breasts. Faintly outlined in the fabric were clearly female nipples. "Chantelle, you look a vision," called out Amanda. "What do you think boys?" Neither of the men even heard the question, and in a moment, were at the edge of the pool, and helping Chantelle into the pool. She slid down into the water, and in doing so could not help but be touched by the men standing so close by her side. The feeling of their skin against hers was electric and sent shivers up her spine. The smaller, and younger of the two accidentally brushed his hand across her left breast, and quickly apologised, blushing in doing so. "That’s okay. It felt quite nice actually," she flirted for the first time in her new life. She moved a little closer and could feel his breath on the side of her face and across her ear. More shivers. She turned to say something to him, but instead met his lips against hers. It was a shock, but a pleasant one, and the two began to kiss, slowly at first. Chantelle had forgotten where she was and was getting carried away with the moment. The kissing became heavier, and the policeman gently pushed his tongue between her lips and into her mouth. He began probing around her mouth, caressing her own tongue with his, her teeth, the roof of her mouth, until he teased enough to start the same game inside his mouth. The feeling was unreal but seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Whilst this passion continued, Amanda had coaxed the first officer out of the pool and had left Chantelle and her first boyfriend to themselves.

Chantelle was thinking that she would not wish anything to change for the rest of her life, when she felt the officer’s hand gently playing at the string of her thong. He began to trace the outline of her female mound, teasing it with his fingertip. Slowly, his fingers teased the delicate fabric away from her skin and pushed his hand down towards her most sensitive area, caressing as he went. His other hand had worked across to her breasts and were now moving from one to the other, rubbing the soft material against her skin, and taking her nipples between his finger and thumb, gently playing with the tip. With her moans building, the officers took her to new heights until she was screaming out loud, her ecstasy knowing no bounds. Eventually she collapsed into him, and he had to hold her out of the water.

Carolyn walked into the room. "Now what is all that noise going on in here?" she asked jokingly. The pair looked at each other and giggled. "Come on, out you get you two. I have made some lunch." Chantelle asked where the other two had gone, and Carolyn smiled. "Best not to ask I think!" The pair climbed out of the pool and Carolyn handed then a warm fluffy towel each. "Chantelle, I think you should go and make yourself decent before lunch. I have laid out a pretty flowery summer dress on your bed for you. Feel free to pick out some pretty lingerie to wear, but I think that cream, rather than white, would be more appropriate after this afternoon’s games!" Chantelle blushed again. "You can borrow my camisole and French knickers if you like. They would go well with that dress as they feel so soft against your skin. If you look in my wardrobe, there is a lovely short satin slip you can wear underneath. Put your hair up with that butterfly clip and don’t forget to put your face on!" Chantelle asked her whether she could wear the champagne coloured tights with the outfit. "I think that stockings would be more appropriate if you have to have some nylons against your legs. In fact there are some lovely lacy suspenders in my drawer that will match the French knickers really well. Put them on; they will look great on you." With a big smile on her face, Chantelle let out a little cry of joy under her breath, and skipped out of the room.

"Take a seat," said Carolyn as she offered a seat to the officer. No sooner had he reached behind him to pull the chair in, than he was suddenly enveloped in a spray mist.

Ten minutes later Chantelle returned. "Where has he gone?" she enquired with Carolyn. "He said he felt a little unwell, so he’s gone for a lie down. I’m sure he will feel much better in a few days…

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Annalise Barker. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.