Susie Learns the Hard Way (31 page)

She licked and sucked, knowing just what to do and just when to do it. She performed eagerly now, enjoying not just her ability to make a woman respond in the same way as she could control a man's sexual pleasure, but delighting in the smell and taste and feel of another woman.

The Inspector's hips began to rotate unreservedly and she threw her head back, panting loudly. But the position they were in was awkward for both of them, rendering them unable to reach the heights demanded. ‘Wait,' gasped the Inspector. Unable to stop her hips from grinding against the lovely face, she managed to bend to the bed and retrieve the small key for the cuffs. She leant over the sitting girl, squashing her even tighter into her groin, and managed to release one of her wrists.

Instinct guided the free hand to grip the Inspector's bottom and hold her steady. Bent fingers clutched tightly at the buttocks, and pulled the two females together. But Susie still couldn't get her tongue where it was needed, and after a few minutes of futile shuffling and cursing the Inspector undid the other handcuff and slumped back on the bed, so Susie could lean forward and put her head between the widespread legs.

It was exactly what was needed; now she could peel the waiting lips apart and lick deep inside, or slide two fingers into the warm wet interior, knowing what delicious sensations she would create, and gratified to see the Inspector responding as anticipated. Over the course of the next few minutes, as her tongue lips and fingers roamed between the Inspector's legs, Susie discovered a whole new world of pleasure, and that she liked eating pussy.

As her gasps rose again to a crescendo, the Inspector's hand patted blindly around on the bed and found the truncheon. She eased Susie's face away and placed the bulbous tip against the clutching opening to her body. Susie immediately recognised what the Inspector craved; that she wanted Susie to feed it in for her. Gently she took hold of the handle, pressing lightly, watching the woman lying before her breathing deeply, her scrawny breasts rising and falling, her eyelids fluttering dreamily as she waited, suspended on the verge of intense ecstasy.

Susie made her decision and rose swiftly. The truncheon swept down and caught the Inspector a glancing blow across the head. Violence was totally foreign to Susie, and the hollow thud almost made her heave. For a moment she panicked, fearing she'd caused serious injury. But although the inspector lay quietly she was still breathing steadily. Moving hastily Susie found the key on its silver chain, freed her ankles, and then cuffed the Inspector to the bed, spreading her like a star before clicking the ratchets into place.

‘Right then,' she panted, as the woman slowly came too and looked up at her with growing comprehension. ‘Now it's my turn...'

 

‘I'm not as good as you,' Susie admitted, ‘but it's only lack of practice. And I may not even be a fast learner, but that doesn't matter. I can wait.'

The Inspector glared at her, and then her eyes flickered down to the fresh thin red lines that dissected Susie's breasts and thighs.

Susie's eyes narrowed and the Inspector tensed, waiting, and then the crop flicked out. The Inspector howled as the loop of leather at its tip stung the underside of her left breast, its impact only slightly softened by the sheer material of her bra.

‘That's not bad,' said Susie. ‘I think I'll soon get the hang of this.'

‘You'd better let me go,' hissed the Inspector defiantly, though there were tears in her eyes. ‘Unless you want to be in more trouble than you are already.'

‘I don't think you'll be reporting this to anyone,' returned Susie, and her arm moved in a quick jerk, flicking the end of the crop into action. The Inspector squealed, and there were now tears running down her cheeks.

‘Now, tell me what's going on,' demanded Susie. ‘Why did you bring me here?'

The Inspector bit her lip, but said nothing.

The crop lashed out again and the Inspector's scream was even more piercing. When it died away she was sobbing like a child. Clearly she only liked inflicting pain, not receiving it. The thought gave Susie the strength to continue against her inclinations. Her natural instinct was to comfort another person in distress, but Susie remembered the pain she'd been made to suffer just a few moments ago and steeled herself to the task. ‘Why did you bring me here?' she asked patiently.

‘I can't,' sobbed the Inspector.

Susie picked up the penknife. Poetic justice, she thought, and sliced the black bra in half so the small breasts sprang into view. The end of the crop reached out and brushed the material aside, and then Susie dangled the leather loop so it was just brushing the tip of one nipple, almost caressing it.

The Inspector shuddered as conflicting sensations coursed through her body.

‘Tell me,' demanded Susie.

‘I can't,' insisted the Inspector, and the crop flicked sideways and lashed the other nipple, drawing another wail of grief.

‘Try,' suggested Susie. ‘Who called the police? And where was Harry?'

‘I don't know,' protested the Inspector.

‘You do,' Susie asserted. ‘You do.'

The Inspector was sobbing again, mumbling incoherently.

‘I think you're enjoying this,' Susie said thoughtfully. ‘I'll have to think of something else,' and before the Inspector had time to flinch Susie lashed the inside of her thigh.

‘Stop it!' yelled the Inspector. ‘Please, stop it!'

‘Then tell me.'

‘I really can't,' she gasped. The leather landed on the black strip of material covering the tender swelling of her pussy and the scream was wrenched from her as she writhed around, held fast by the same chains she'd used to bind Susie. That knowledge was all that gave Susie the strength to carry on with a task she found increasingly distasteful. But she'd had a good teacher, and she had learned quickly. She pulled at the black knickers, tugging them up, and slipped the knife through the silk in one cut, exposing the nakedness of the shaven groin.

‘All right! All right! I'll tell you!' screamed the Inspector, her resistance broken. ‘Just don't hit me again.'

‘Okay,' said Susie, forcing herself to sound stern, ‘but you'd better tell me everything you know.'

‘I was told about the film set, the address and everything,' the wretched woman blabbered. ‘I briefed my men, said we were acting on information received, a tip-off, and that we'd raid the place.' Now she'd started the confession seemed to come flooding out. ‘I just said it was a straightforward pornography thing, and that we were looking for film and video equipment, and finished tapes, and to nick everyone who was involved. All I had to do was to find you and keep you away from the rest, until... until... later...'

Her voice tailed away and suddenly Susie felt the impact of enormous shock, as if she'd been punched in the chest. There was no mistaking the look on the woman's face, and Susie realised that something awful was planned for her, that she was a major nuisance that needed to be silenced – perhaps permanently.

‘You mean, you were going to keep me here until he could come and...' she was trembling, a mixture of terror and rage.

‘It's not my fault,' blurted the Inspector, her desperation evident. ‘I had no choice. He was blackmailing me. He said he'd put it in the paper. It would've been the end of my career... of me.' She tried to control her tears. ‘He discovered my liking for female prostitutes and CP. He set me up, got some photos. I'd have been finished...'

Knowing the Inspector's inclinations, Susie found her story very easy to believe. ‘So, where is he now, the dirty bastard?' she asked, anger taking a greater hold than fear. ‘I'll make Harry Anderson wish he was dead,' she promised.

‘Harry?' sobbed the Inspector. ‘Why Harry? He's got nothing to do with it.' She sniffed. ‘It's not Harry.'

‘Well, if it isn't Harry...' said Susie, truly puzzled.

‘Didn't you know?'

‘Know what?'

‘I thought you knew. From what you were saying I thought you knew it was the editor of your fucking newspaper!'

Susie gaped at the revelation. ‘I don't believe you,' she said, raising the crop threateningly.

‘It is, I swear. It really is that creep!'

Deep down, Susie knew the contemptible woman was telling the truth. And there was something else... something about an earlier remark about Harry... She struggled to recall the words.

‘So where's Harry then?' she asked.

‘I don't know, really I don't.' Susie was convinced; this was genuine abject cowardice, and she wasn't faking.

‘Okay, so where's Skase?'

‘His office,' the Inspector said quickly, ‘until later. Then he's coming here.' She looked around fearfully as if she expected him at any moment.

‘Right,' said Susie decisively. ‘I'm off then.'

So saying she hastily helped herself to the Inspector's shirt and skirt and turned for the door.

‘Don't go!' the pitiful woman begged. ‘Don't leave me here! Not like this! He'll kill me if he finds me here like this.' Tears were streaming down her face and Susie almost relented, but then her memory saved her from momentary weakness. Remembering the cruel twist of the mouth and the savage blows she walked out of the door, not even bothering to tell the Inspector that Skase wouldn't be coming later, or at all. He'd be in the cells himself, proper ones, with policemen to guard him.

 

‘Is it far? I mean, where are we?' Susie felt silly, not knowing where she was and being forced to admit it.

The cab driver looked at her in his mirror for a moment, but his curiosity was momentary. He'd pretty much seen and heard it all before. ‘Coming up to Euston,' he said indifferently. ‘Fifteen minutes tops, this time of day.'

Susie settled back in the black cab, glad of the time to compose herself and gather her thoughts. She'd been almost frantic with relief after her ordeal, and had run out of the ‘cell', down a short passage and out into an alleyway, surprised to find that what she'd been told was a police station was in fact just a lockup garage in a row of similar buildings built beside a railway line. The ‘cell' had been built inside it, with the obvious intention of being used as it just had been. Susie wondered how many others had been kept there before her.

The Inspector's car was outside and Susie debated taking it. But the keys weren't in it, and she couldn't face going back inside. Moreover, she had no desire to be arrested legitimately for stealing a police car. So she walked briskly past it and out onto the suburban streets, following the sound of traffic from there. A five-minute walk brought her to a main road, and in another couple she'd hailed the cab and was on her way.

There was only ever one possible destination.

She felt a bit strange wearing only the Inspector's shirt and skirt under her coat, but decided not to waste time by going back to her little flat for fresh clothes. Instead she would go straight to work and find Harry; after all the confusion and chaos of the last few hours that, she decided, would be her best course of action. Confrontation with Harry would settle the matter one way or another, and if the Inspector had been telling the truth then Harry would know what to do.

 

She showed her pass at the gate and no one said a word; the guard just waved her through, and that was the first hurdle crossed. If the Inspector had been telling the truth and she'd managed to escape or been set free, she would have expected Skase to have intervened at the gate, perhaps asking security to detain her. Feeling slightly relieved but still apprehensive, she walked into the office, finding it largely deserted.

On the front of her computer monitor was a yellow post-it:
call me
, it said, in Skase's distinctive handwriting. She sat, slowly, wondering whether she should, and as she decided that she'd better call Harry first, she vaguely heard someone mention his name. She turned, expecting to see him, but then she understood. It wasn't someone in the office calling to him across the room, it was the newsreader on one of the office televisions.

‘
Harry Anderson was found dead in a West End club believed to have been the meeting place of a group of individuals with a common interest in wife swapping and bondage,' said the level voice. ‘Police were called to the premises earlier this afternoon following an anonymous telephone call, and discovered the body on the club dance floor. He was tied up, blindfolded and gagged. First reports indicate that the body was only partly dressed, wearing high heels, stockings and suspenders, and women's underwear
.'

Susie listened in a state of shock. Harry dead? And found like that?

Panic-stricken, she glanced about the room, wondering what to do now.

She was only partly aware of people talking around her, their excited conversation turning to attentive hush as the newsreader added more information. But as she sat in stunned silence Susie became aware that they were waiting for the editor to arrive; he was already on his way down to take control of the story for tomorrow's papers.