Crime Scene

Looking at the pictures of Helena I was sadly reminded of our last encounter. Here she lay sprawled on the stairs, her head at an impossible angle, her limbs awry where a week before the hot liquid overture of her tongue had taken the edge off of three months of loneliness. She had looked up at me with her wicked eyes, her tongue working out the last drops as I twitched with relief, and promised her every submission to me.

Those eyes would never open again, her arms would never embrace another lover, that tongue would never entwine with mine again. Helena lay dead, her body twisted on the stairs, forever frozen in the photograph. My eyes ran with tears as I looked at the remaining pictures. Trying to work out what had happened.

‘What we’d like to know sir’ said the detective, extracting Helena’s mobile from an evidence bag ‘is what she said when she called you just before her death’

I fished out my phone and pressed the buttons for voicemail and speaker. ‘You have one saved message. Press five to listen or nine to delete’

‘Hi. It’s Helena. Call me please. There’s someone outside. I need to talk to you. I have to tell you this.’

‘Press three to repeat or nine to delete’

‘I tried to call her a couple of times but she didn’t answer’

‘Can you tell us where you were on the night in question sir?’

I leant back deciding what to say. Helena was a more experienced woman who owned a night club, tall, dark and very buxom she had looked great every time I saw her. In the last few months she had gone through some troubled times after a break up with Tony, her boyfriend/master/business partner. He had attacked her with a hammer and she had shown me the forensic report as I was one of the few sympathetic ears when everyone seemed to side with Tony.

The fetish scene was under assault from a new and pushy group, they were spending money like crazy trying to outdo the established events and pull in punters. After the break up, Tony had started working with them, moving his regular event to their venue. Helena had been looking around for new events to hold at her club and I had been talking with her about running a few one off special nights to tide her over.

I had supported Helena and been a friend and I had assumed that nothing would happen between us. However at one of the little events we had organised at her place she came over to stand by me and chat. The event was to celebrate the first anniversary of the community website I had set up and was filled with people who were contributing to the site, their friends and lovers, people who read the site regualrly, and a few random strangers who were curious about a fetish night out.

Helena had her hair up, wearing a dazzling white skirt suit, and matching stockings. The outfit consisted of a very short straight skirt, a fetchingly tailored jacket, a silky frilly black blouse, white stockings and matching heels, and overall she looked like she had stepped out of a 40’s Hollywood movie.

I was sitting down, having been running around taking photographs and somewhat fatigued so Helena kindly fetched me a drink. As she walked away I noticed that she was wearing seamed stockings and, I presumed, matching suspenders. The heels she wore made her bottom sway in a most alluring way. When she came back Helena stood beside me and we both watched the events at the club, soaking in the heady atmosphere and pounding music.

Feeling bold I decide to try my luck by placing my hand on Helena’s leg, as I did she shifted a little leaning closer towards me. I let my hand stray further up running my fingertips over her stocking tops and onto the smooth flesh of her thighs. Helena sighed a little and shifted one leg, resting her hand on the back of my neck, her fingers gently stroking. Needing no further encouragement I let my fingers do the talking and we both remained there, unspeaking for several minutes while I teased and pleased her with the slightest of movements.

Once our drinks were empty Helena leaned down and whispered in my ear, suggesting we head up to her private rooms on the top floor of the club. I followed her up the stairs hypnotised by her smoothly swaying posterior gliding to and from under her snug skirt. Helena opened the security door to her apartment and ushered me in. A small set of stairs led up to her rooms which were lit only by moonlight coming through the roof windows.

‘Sit down’ she said and I rested on the stairs.

Helena’s hands pushed me back a little and deftly undid my belt and leather trousers, She reached into my underwear and pulled out my erection, working it into painful stiffness. She smiled and dropped to her knees, bracing herself against my thighs she leaned forward and took me into her mouth. The hot liquid of her tongue searing my skin like fire.

It had been three months or more since my last encounter and Helena’s expert lips pulled me into a massive orgasm, her throat worked swallowing, and her tongue cleaned out every drop, it’s rough tip making me twitch as she worked it into the hyper sensitive tip. Her wicked eyes locked onto  mine promising her every submission to my desires.

‘Where’s your bedroom?’ I asked, keen to continue.

‘Follow me’ she said and led me out onto a roof terrace where a couple of cushion covered sun loungers beckoned in the warm summer night.

Helena’s clothes were like moonlight and shimmering pearl as I slowly undressed her, plying her with kisses and gentle nibbling. Underneath the suit Helena was wearing a white basque with pearl decorations and simple white silk underwear as well as the stockings and suspenders I had already seen. She let her hair down and we kissed passionately for what seemed like an eternity, her hands loosening my clothes.

‘Sir if you could answer the question please’

I was brought back to earth. My mind kept wandering back as I answered the detectives questions. The night Helena died I had been working at a club, taking photos for the website.

After Helena had undressed me she stood up and slowly stripped off her basque and underwear, her pale skin gleaming like silver in the moonlight, shadows chasing across her naked form to alternately hide and reveal. She knelt down on the lounger, lowered her chin and looked up at me.

‘Spank me please master’ she said

I pulled her across my lap and held her wrists behind her back with my one hand laying the other on the soft flesh of her bottom. Helena’s muscles were taut with anticipation as she lay helpless over my knees. I slapped her bottom lightly a few times sticking to one cheek and waiting for her to relax a little.

‘More please master. Harder please master’ she said

Gripping her arms tightly I slapped her arse hard, the sound of the blow reaching across the rooftops. Helena tightened beneath me as I hit her again. I slapped her cheeks in time to the thudding music just audible from downstairs laying blow after blow into the soft flesh of her buttocks until the skin turned pink. Her breath grew harsher as her enjoyment peaked.

‘More. More.’ She gasped and I slapped her faster and harder the palm of my hand burning with pain like her cheeks burned with pleasure. Helena’s thighs locked together and her hips twisted as she reached an orgasm. I stopped the slaps and she relaxed beneath me spreading across my lap and squashing my erection.

We laid there for a few minutes while we cooled down. My hand gently caressed her burning bottom. Soon I let my curious fingers slip between her thighs and explore their way to her pussy. My fingertips slid across the wet folds of her labia seeking out her clit. I rubbed my fingers back and forth using her wetness to lubricate their path. Helena parted her thighs inviting me to go further and I slowly slid two fingers inside her sopping pussy.

My fingers slid in and out of Helena a few times until they were soaked with her juices. I took them out and ran them across her anus, moistening the dry skin and pressing lightly in. Helena sighed with pleasure, spreading her legs further apart, pushing her bottom up, and settling into my lap. I alternated between sliding my fingers in and out of her pussy and rubbing her juices across her anus until she was thoroughly soaked.

I slipped my thumb into her pussy to get it nice and wet and then slowly pushed it into her anus. The tight muscle loosened and then gripped me hard as she gasped again. I slid two fingers inside her again and rubbed at the wall of her pussy. Helena was writhing in my lap her hips twisting. I slowly slid a third finger into her pussy and then a fourth as she opened up to me. I pressed my hand hard into her, my fingers sliding deep into her pussy, and my thumb pressing further into her arse.

‘Oh fuck. Fuck me’ she cried out

‘Are you ready’ I asked, keeping up the pressure with my hand, my fingertips rubbing gently inside her.

’Yes. Yes. Fuck me please master’

‘You’re the one who’s going to do the work. Now stand up’

I slowly pulled my hand out of Helena and she stood up, her legs wobbling. I beckoned her forward and she moved closer still as I laid back on the lounger.

‘Sit in my lap facing me’ I said and Helena complied, her large breasts swaying heavily in the moonlight, their dark tips casting tiny shadows.

Helena took hold of my throbbing penis and guided it into her hot pussy as she lowered herself onto me. Her weight pressed me inside her as she settled across my thighs. She leant forward presenting her breasts to me and I took one into my mouth licking and biting at the hard nipple. Helena grabbed the hand that had been inside her and licked her juices from my fingers savoring the sweet musky taste.

I released her nipple from my mouth and Helena sat back, rocking her hips to get me deep inside her. I reached down between us and pressed my thumb against her clitoris.

‘Excuse me, sir. Would you mind answering the question’

‘Uh? When was it again?’ I said as my reverie shattered on the floor.

‘Last Saturday.’

‘I was at a nightclub taking photographs and then I rode home.’

‘Do you have any proof of this?’

‘Errr. I’ve got some photos on my computer at home. And loads of people at the club saw me.’ Now I was worried, the likelihood of anyone from the fetish scene willing to stand up and say formally to the police that they’d seen me at a fetish club was going to be vanishingly small. Hopefully the photos would be enough to place me at the right place and the right time.

‘We’ll need to see them sir.’

So the rest of my day was spent driving around with a policeman and turning over the contents of my computer to the authorities. Fucking fantastic.