Special Victims Unit/Chapter 1
Chapter 1: He's got my attention now!
Carola Anser woke up from a little hand shaking her arm. She looked to her left and saw Tamira, her 5-year-old daughter, stark naked besides the bed.
“Mommy, can you lick my cunny?”
“Sure, I love to. But doesn't daddy always give you your morning cummies?”
“Felipe wanted to be with daddy today.”
Carola only now noticed the grunting and panting next to her. She looked to her side and saw her husband buried balls deep in their 8-year-old son's ass.
“Ah, good. Come over here, sit on mommy's face, so I can still lie comfortably. And if you lean forward, you can suck Felipe's dick while I lick you.”
“Wow, that was quite something this morning,” Carola chuckled.
“Yeah, we only barely got them on the school bus in time,” Clemens replied as he put two large plates with bread, butter, sausages, and scrambled eggs on the table.
“But it was fun, right?”
“Yes, it was.”
Clemens paused, then resumed.
“Can I ask a question?”
Carola looked up, startled. When her husband used that tone, he had something serious to discuss.
“Of course, my love. What's up?”
“Could we perhaps spend some more time … you know, together?”
“More time? I thought I already …”
Carola interrupted herself.
“Yes, of course. Everything you wish, love. Perhaps I can quit work early today, and we can go to an orgy with the kids.”
“No, that's not what I mean, I want to …”
“Oh, just you and me? Of course! I can ask dad to pick up the kids, he always loves when they stay over. And then you and I can fuck all night!”
“Eh, well, …”
A loud sound interrupted the conversation. Carola pulled a red flashing pager out of her pocket and pressed the button to silence it.
She sighed.
“Sorry, love. Emergency. I need to go. Can we discuss this later?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Go do your job, catch bad people. Here, take your plate with you. You always get grumpy when you skip breakfast.”
The car stopped at the indicated address. Carola got out and ran towards the door. A police bot moved to stop her, but rolled aside as she waved her badge in front of its camera.
She rushed into the house and stopped to listen. Voices above, so she took the stairs, once more listened to identify the direction of the sound, then pushed open a door to enter what at first sight seemed to be a standard couples' bedroom, packed with police staff.
“Ah, miss Anser. Glad you are here.”
A chubby man extended a hand, that Carola ignored. She recognized him as Gilmore, the chief of the department. It was quite unusual to see the chief involved, especially at a fresh crime scene. But she had never been impressed by rank or status, and she wasn't going to change that today.
“Of course I'm here. I got paged.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Very good. Now can we …”
“No, sir. 'We' can do nothing. 'I' can perhaps do my job if you and everyone else leaves this room, so that I have room to do my work.”
“Now, now, miss Anser. You shouldn't talk to me like that, I am the …”
“I know who you are. And you know who I am. If you had wanted to chat or to fuck, you would have invited me to a bar. But this is a crime scene. You called me to investigate a crime, and it better be a rape because that's the only crimes I do. Now do you want me to do my job, or shall we go to the nearest coffee bar to have sex and small talk?”
Carola noticed how Simmons, her direct chief, shot Gilmore a 'told you so' look. But then Gilmore commanded everyone to leave, and Carola moved aside as people poured out of the room.
Soon, only Stephen and Indra, Carola's assistants, were left with Carola in the room. She shut the door, then turned around and took a deep breath as she took in the scenery.
A painted silhouette of a human on the large bed was the first thing that caught her eye.
“Oh no! Is the victim …”
“Dead? No. She was heavily sedated and taken to the hospital. This is the position that Roberto Zecca found her in. He's one of her sex friends. Apparently, the victim texted him yesterday, asking him to come by this morning for a wake-up fuck. He used his spare key to enter, found her, then immediately called the police. She was still out when they arrived. She's at the hospital now. Doctors say she'll be able to talk in three hours.”
“So of course mister Zecca is our prime suspect.”
“He would be, but he has a perfect alibi. He was hired as a birthday gift for a girls' tenth birthday sleepover. Both her parents and all eight girls who were there confirmed he was there all night. Apparently, he is very good, especially with young girls. They say he left just after eight. It's a twenty-minute drive, and he called 911 at eight twenty-four, so no way he could have done this.”
“Okay. Time to look around, then.”
Carola's bright blue eyes wandered around the room, taking in all details.
“Okay, at least the 'how' is obvious.”
She looked at the shattered window, and the shards on the floor.
“Obvious? How so?” Stephen asked, while following the direction of her gaze and trying to understand what his superior had peaced together.
“Look at the glass shards. These here are flat, they're from the window. But these shards here are curved. Probably from a bottle. And check the fissure, I guess it exploded from within.”
“Ah, so the rapist prepared a bottle with sedative gas, threw it through the window, and then it exploded and released the gas, sedating our victim.”
Carola just nodded. She hated when she had to spell out the obvious. Stephen was great at filling in the details that were obvious to her already, but needed to be explained to the rest of the world. Not that Indra needed the explanation at this point, but hearing Stephen and Indra explain the details was also an important part of Carola's mental process. She would not have had the successes she had without her assistants.
“Who's the victim?” Carola informed, as she wandered the room, her eyes restlessly taking in details. Her assistants had of course already begun investigating, but they knew Carola. She always wanted to start with her own first impression, before hearing what others knew.
“Kimberly Hill, aged 35. Married to Dwayne Hill, who is currently in France. He has already been contacted and will take the first flight back to Los Angeles.”
“Dwayne Hill?” Carola mumbled absent-mindedly, as she picked up a voucher envelope from a high-end travel agency, “the actor?”
“Yes. He's known for only taking non-nude roles, even if that often leaves him unemployed. He has just started on some new artsy alternative movie, recorded fully on location in France, and rumored to have only non-nude actors in it, and …”
“I know who Dwayne Hill is,” Carola interrupted Indra, “No need to rattle down his full imdb record. So, celebrity. That explains all the higher ups. But what have we here?”
She opened the envelope and took out a printed travel voucher.
“An actual paper voucher? Wow, someone wants to make her feel very special.”
Carola nodded approvingly at Stephen's observation as she carefully, making sure not to spoil any prints, took out the tickets and read them.
“Fully arranged trip for two, to Orlando, next weekend, Friday to Sunday. Entrance to the Universal Orgies Theme Park, entrance to the Disneyworld All Ages Magic World of Sex, hotel room, heck, even restaurant vouchers are included!”
“Wow, Roberta Zecca must be very fond of her.”
Carola chuckled.
“Zecca fucks ten-year-olds for a living. Fun job, but bad pay. He couldn't afford the paper these vouchers are printed on.”
“So … you think Kimberly bought this for him?”
Indra looked surprised at Stephen's suggestion.
“For a sex friend? Come on! I like my sex friends, but I would never buy them a gift this expensive. Not even when I was as loaded as she is. They're just sex friends, after all. Unless … are there reasons to assume Zecca could be more than just a sex friend?”
“We should investigate that, just to be sure. But the obvious explanation is of course that Dwayne bought these for Kimberly. He certainly can afford it! What do you think, Carola?”
Carola said nothing, She just twisted the vouchers in her hand, in deep thought, then put them back in the envelope and placed it back where she had found it.
“You are right. We should investigate these.”
Carola resumed her restless wandering through the room. The victim had been found in a large two-person bed, a luxury edition with built-in massage tools for all erogenous zones. On the night stand on the left side of the bed was a collection of sex toys. On the right side was a digital clock and the latest edition of Playboy Magazine, the cover showing the centerfold, Tracy, 11 years, wearing a huge smile as her vagina and anus were stretched by two immense cocks at the same time, while two other men were just about to shoot a load over her already cum-drenched flat chest.
Opposite the bed was a large television wall. On the right were yellow drapes, blocking the sun from entering the room through the large windows. On the left were two standard family photos, probably childhood photos of Dwayne and Kimberly. One showed a boy, looking about 7 or 8, but already with the so remarkable nose that Dwayne was known for, happily sucking a man's big dick while he fisted a woman, probably his father and mother. The other depicted two women with medium-size strapons, double penetrating a girl in early puberty, based on the nice A-cup buds she already had. Carola assumed this to be a younger version of Kimberly, with her mothers, but made a mental note to get this verified. She was known for never missing a clue, and wanted to keep it that way.
“So, anything I missed?” Carola finally asked, as she had finished her own initial observation round.
“Only one thing,” Indra replied, “and you couldn't have found it, because I have it here.”
She pulled a transparent evidence bag out of her pocket, and handed it to Carola.
“This paper was found, stuffed inside the victim's vagina.”
“Inside … goddamn, so he's not just an ordinary rapist, he's a sicko. What does it say?”
“Read it yourself. See what you think, before we share our thoughts.”
Carola carefully looked at the note in the bag.
“You should take a break, CA”.
She read it again. Her face turned purple.
“God damn!” she then exploded, “so this is personal?”
Stephen hesitantly nodded.
“Yes, that's what we think too. CA. Your initials. 'You should take a break, Carola Anser'. Seems our rapist knows about you and wants you to stay out of this case.”
“Like hell I will! He's got my attention now, he's definitely got my full attention. I swear to God, I'm gonna get that goddamned limpdick!”
“Of course you will. We know you. But that makes this extra strange. If he knows you, then he should have known this would get your attention even more. And if he doesn't know you, then why mention you in this note?”
“We'll find out. Could be one of the rapists I caught since I joined the Special Victims Unit. Get someone to make a list and track the locations of each of them. And also all who were close enough to the case that they might remember me.”
“Do you really think we didn't already ask the data analysis department to do exactly that before you were even here?” Indra smiled.
“Of course you did.”
Carola checked the room once more.
“Okay, guess we're done here. Tell forensics to check everything. And I mean everything. Someone who leaves such a note is not a beginner. Probably no traces, but who knows, even the best make mistakes.”
“Will do. And we go to the hospital to talk with Kimberly?”
Carola checked her watch.
“One hour before she's ready, if the doctors are right. Just enough time for a quick fuck. God, I can use some relaxation after this.”
“Have you forgotten that Gilmore and Simmons are still out there? I'm sure they'll want a briefing with our first findings.”
“Damn! Oh well, you like to talk, Stephen. You can brief them, while Gilmore fucks me. Is that okay with you Indra?”
“Sure, gives me a chance to eat out Simmons again.”
Impressions of a new world
Seven adults and eight children, three families total, sit in the waiting area. Some chat, a few impatiently ogle the large wall clock, some play games to kill time. An adult woman plays catch with two of the younger children, one of the older boys fucks the youngest girl as she sucks two dicks at the same time, and three other children are absorbed in their phones, on some social media app, or playing a game.
At two o'clock exactly, a buzzer sounds and the entrance door opens, to reveal a tour guide.
“Welcome I am your … oh, sorry I had not seen you are busy. Please finish, never interrupt good sex, the museum can wait.”
Smiling, he and the other visitors watch as the girl swallows two large loads, then quickly thereafter has her own cum. The boy fucks a bit longer, tenses in his dry cum, then withdraws.
“Welcome, I am your tour guide. I'll show you around in our special exhibition about life before the Great Sexual Reform. Any questions you have, please ask. But first: the rules. Don't touch any exhibits, except when I explicitly say otherwise. Don't litter. Parents, keep your children close. And to preserve the atmosphere of the time before the Great Sexual Reform, we must insist that visitors refrain from sexual activities in the exhibit halls, as this would ruin the atmosphere we are creating.”
“Awwww,” a boy whines, but his mother quickly shushes him.
“But how about our 29th Amendment rights?” a father asks.
“We have an exempt status because of the unique function we have to inform people about life before the Reform. But no worries, in between the exhibit halls are neutral areas where people can sex as much as they want, if they can't wait until the tour is over.”
The tour starts, and the children watch and listen in shock as the exhibits, combined with the patient explanations of the tour guide, paint a lively picture of life as it was for their grandparents, and even for some of their parents.
“So you never actually had sex until you were sixteen?” a child asks her grandmother.
“I actually had sex before that, Eve. At fourteen was my first time. But I kept it secret from my parents, and from everyone else.”
“The next exhibit hall has more about children, and also adults, doing what was considered illegal sex. So if you follow me, we can learn more about this. Does anyone need a break for sex in the neutral area?”
The group follows the guide, the children shuddering at the very idea of 'illegal sex'.
“This is the final area of our tour,” the guide announces, “and here you are allowed, even encouraged, to explore the objects. They are replicas, so don't worry about leaving stains or damaging them. These are all materials used in actual sex ed classes. Look at the indicated age ranges, you'll be shocked at how late these subjects were covered. Look around and see what children were taught about sex in the old days.”
“I see no toys?”
“An excellent observation, indeed! You are a smart girl. Indeed, no toys. Sex ed was purely from books and videos before the Reform. No toys. No exercises. It was not even allowed to have sex in class in those days.”
“But, … but, …,” a boy stammers, “if children cannot practice sex, and only learn what's in here … it does not even look realistic! … how are they supposed to sex their partner properly? How do they know how to make someone cum?”
“Well, that's why the time before the Reform is called the Dark Ages. They didn't. Their first time was often painful and not enjoyable. Many women and girls never experienced orgasm, or only when masturbating. Many men just stuck it in and fucked until they came. They never experienced the fun of edging, or of making their partner cum over and over again.”
“Those people must have been horrible,” a seven-year-old girl pipes up, “to tell children not to have sex and to not even teach them properly.”
“They just didn't know any better. Just like in the Middle Ages, when women were burned as witches, because people didn't understand why they were different. Before the Reform, people really thought they were doing what was best for the children. They were convinced it was better and healthier to wait.”
“And with that, our tour comes to an end. Thank you all for your attention and your interesting questions. I must remind you that our company has a strict no tipping policy. However, my next tour starts in an hour and until then I am free to sex anyone who wants to.”
The visitors quickly line up.
Continue to: >> Chapter 2: He could just have asked! | Return to: << Table Of Contents << P.D. Vile's stories