Special Victims Unit/Chapter 3
Chapter 3: I'm a bit tied up right now
“Okay,” Carola said, while pinning holographs to the wall and drawing lines between them, “what do we have?”
“Kimberly Hill, 35. Married to Dwayne Hill. Raped yesterday, between 6 AM and 8 AM. Sedated by gaseous bidurofloresal, that was released in her room by throwing a bottle through the window. Smart choice. Works very fast, dissipates quickly. And its innate explosive reaction on shock means it can be put in a glass container that is sturdy enough to break the window, yet will then explode inside.”
“No DNA found in or on the victim. Rubber traces inside the vagina suggest a condom was used. Forensics is working to identify the exact make. No fingerprints or other traces to identify the perpetrator. Deep trace analysis unfinished, but intermediate reports all negative.”
Carola nodded.
“Expected. Not a beginner.”
“Suspect number 1: Dwayne Hill, her husband. The actor. No motive, everyone confirms they have a happy marriage. Perfect alibi, he was in France at the time of the crime. The rape happened between 3 PM and 5 PM local time in France, while Dwayne was shooting a scene, with a full crew to confirm.”
“Suspect number 2: Roberta Zecca, sex worker. But sex friend for Kimberly. According to his statement, he entered her home just after eight twenty, found her unconscious on the bed, noticed the shattered window and the glass shards on the floor, suspected a crime, and called the police. He followed instructions to not enter her bedroom, but to wait for police to arrive.”
“We double-checked his alibi. All the girls at the party confirmed he was there all night. He didn't sleep at all, he made each girl cum at least five times throughout the evening and night. In between, he even found time to pleasure both parents, for free. A smart freebie, it resulted in a booking for their 15th anniversary next weekend.”
“Once this case is closed, I'll totally hire him. He seems to know some special tricks!”
“Calm your juices, Indra. Alibi or not, he'll remain on the suspect list for now.”
“Of course, Carola. I know the rules. I would never have sex with him until the case is closed. No need to worry about conflict of interest.”
Stephen used the short silence to shoot off a question that clearly had been on his mind for a while already.
“Carola, what about the travel vouchers? You went back to Kimberly to ask about them, and then when she didn't recall her travel plans, you said that was all you needed to know. What's up with that?”
Carola sighed, and her disappointed face told Stephen and Indra that she had expected her assistants to see what, to her, was clear.
“Look at the facts, you'll see the obvious. Zecca couldn't afford such a gift. Plus, as you just told me, he's working this weekend. Kimberly hasn't bought this for Roberta. You heard her, he wasn't even her first choice, she called … what's his name … Hubert d'Arpaggio first, but he couldn't come. If it was a gift for d'Arpaggio, she would put it away when her second choice sex friend visits.”
“So, a gift from Dwayne then, as we already suspected?”
“No, fools! Of course not. He had to break off filming in Europe to return here when he heard about the rape. He would have stayed there until filming is done. If he buys his wife a trip, it's after he returns.”
Indra and Stephen snapped their mouths shut as they realized the logic of their superior.
Carola opened her mouth to say something more, but just then the desk computer signaled an incoming call of high emergency.
“Yes, Carola Anser and team. Who's speaking?”
“Officer Durr here, from the 911 control room. We have a call here. Suspected rape. We have already relayed the address to your cars.”
“What? Another one? Two in one week?” Stephen sighed as he got up from the couch where he had been masturbating, his normal method to channel his thoughts.
“Same perpetrator?” Indra wondered.
“Could be. Or not. Let's not jump to conclusions.”
A large area was closed for public when the SVU team arrived, but the police bot let them through and pointed them to the correct house.
“Please stay on the pavement, forensics is still searching and securing evidence in the grass,” its mechanic voice droned.
They entered the house into a hall. To the left was a large open door into a living room, where two police officers were talking to a boy, probably about eleven. One gently caressed his back and buttocks, a trick that all cops learn during basic training, to quickly reduce stress. The other slowly stroked the boy's stiff cocklet, while talking to him. The glistening precum on his dickhead, the happy look in his eyes, and the way his hands played with the cock and pussy of the two police officers, all indicated that he was okay; at least for now.
The female officer noticed Carola and made a head movement to indicate she should go to the other side of the hall first.
As soon as Carola and her assistants opened the door, she heard a cheerful voice, a woman's voice.
“Ah, come in, come in! You are the investigators?”
She entered and froze in place as she saw the source of the voice. A woman, indeed. Tied to a large bed in the center of the room. Four handcuffs, one on each of her wrists and ankles, attached with a rubber band to the bed posts. She looked to be in her early thirties, with darker skin betraying mixed ancestry. She had dark curly hair, very large breasts, and a full bush of hair between her legs, following the recent “back to natural” fad.
Despite her awkward position, the woman smiled warmly at Carola's team as they entered.
“Yes, we are. Carola Anser, Stephen Hanks, and I am Indra Varma. We are from the SVU, which is short for Special Victims Unit. We are specialized in crimes of sexual nature.”
Carola didn't pay attention to Indra and Stephen droning down the standard introduction and answering the expected questions, but used the time to look around.
On the right side of the room was a broken window. A quick look was enough to confirm that here, too, there were not just window shards but also shards from a glass bottle. Carola picked one up and sniffed it briefly; now that she knew what to watch for, she recognized the residual smell of bidurofloresal.
The room was almost empty, in post-modern style. No TV screens. No furniture, except for the bed. To the left of the bed, attached to the wall, was a digital photo frame, alternating through photos and short videos of the boy in the next room, at various ages. A short video showing his first attempts to walk. A picture of him, holding up a stick figure drawing of two men holding each other's dicks. His first ass-fucking, showing his slightly nervous face and then an increasingly happy smile as a close up in the corner shows a dick sliding into his stretched asshole. Then, a bit older, probably 7 years, proudly showing his report card. And so on, nothing special, just standard pictures and videos of a happy childhood.
Carola tore her attention away from the photos and turned her attention to the victim.
“Okay, now that my assistants have explained who we are, can you tell us who you are?”
“Didn't the other officers tell you?”
“They were sexing your … son I guess? To help him relax. They indicated for us to go here and let them help him first.”
“Oh, good. I'm happy Mark is in good hands. I don't want him traumatized. It's bad enough that he found me like this.”
“No worries, he'll be fine, ma'm … ?”
“Oh, yes. Right. Ellis. But please call me Sally.”
“Sally Ellis? You are the Sally Ellis?”
“There are probably more people with my name,” she smiled, “but I am indeed the retired athlete.”
“Sally Ellis,” Stephen rattled down, “retired professional youth athlete. Highest achievement was a gold medal on the 2032 Olympics, for hands-free double-cum blowjobs, category ten to thirteen years.”
“Ten men, randomly selected from the audience,” Sally reminisced, “and I made each of them cum twice, in just fourteen minutes and twenty-five point three seconds. A record that remained in the books until four years ago.”
“Which is extra remarkable because you were born before the Reform, so you didn't even start training as young as current athletes do. Big fan!”
“Thanks,” Sally smiled, “I'd give you an autograph, but I'm a bit tied up right now.”
“I'm sure my colleagues already called for a locksmith?”
“Oh yes, of course. They were nothing but kind.”
“Okay, miss Ellis, …”
“Sally, please.”
“Okay, Sally, please tell us what happened. All details can be relevant!”
“Hmmm, okay. Where to start. I guess yesterday evening. I had brought Mark into bed. His day at school had been rough, so after he fucked me I stayed with him to cuddle, until he fell asleep. I was tired too, so I decided to just have a quiet evening with a cocktail, a good movie – do you need to know which one? I think it was 'Little Jenny does the Zoo' – and my Magic Wand. I went to bed when the movie was finished, at eleven. I was still awake when suddenly I heard shattering glass. I sat up, and as the light activated, I noticed that my window was broken. Then I smelled something funny, and next thing I know I woke up tied to the bed like this. I guess someone must have raped me?”
“What time was that, Sally?”
“I don't know. I have no voice control in my bedroom, I sleep best in a basic setting. But it must have been early morning. I was still trying to get loose when Mark pushed open the door. I asked him to get me my phone and call a friend for me, and that I would explain later.”
“Which friend? And why not have him call the police?”
“I don't want him to know I've been raped. I told him I was doing bondage play, and my dom forgot to untie me when he left. He looked suspicious when I said it, but I just don't want him to know the truth. Not yet, he's only ten.”
“Your friend?”
“Ah yes. Glenn Roach. He was my coach during my sports career, and we have always remained good friends. That's him.”
At those last words, she nodded towards the photo frame that had just switched back to Mark's anal deflowering.
“So, you asked Mark to call mister Roach and then hand you the phone?”
“Yes, and then leave the room, so I could talk in private. I told Glenn what happened and asked him to call the police. Ten minutes later your colleagues arrived, Mark opened the door for them – oh gosh, I so hope he doesn't understand what happened to me, but he's smart. Will your colleagues make sure he's fine?”
“No worries. They will.”
“Thanks! Oh, one more thing. It seems the rapist has left something in my vagina? Not sure what, your colleague removed it and put it into one of those plastic bags you always use on TV.”
A man entered the room.
“Oh, sorry if I am interrupting. Jones, locksmith. My services were needed?”
“Ah, yes, could you please get me loose?”
“Be careful, mister Jones. This is a police case. Wear gloves while working. Damage the cuffs as little as possible. Stephens, stay here and make sure the evidence is secured. Indra and I would like to talk with Mark. If that's okay with you, Sally?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever is needed. But remember, he's just a boy!”
Indra and Carola returned to the room they had first passed, but only the two officers were there.
“Where's Mark? Can we talk to him?”
“He went to his room, up the stairs, second door to the right. We told him you might want to speak to him, and he said that's fine. He's relaxed now, but he was quite upset first. Go easy on him. Oh, and I guess you'll want this.”
The officer handed Carola an evidence bag, holding a crumpled note.
“Don't get tied up in my clues, CA”.
“Well, that confirms it. We have a serial. Damn!”
“Come in,” a boyish voice said as Indra knocked on the door.
Carola and Indra entered what at first sight appeared to be a typical boys' room. A large bed on one side, a desk with school utensils and masturbation toys on the other side. A poster of a movie star attached to the wall above it. In a corner a comfy chair where Mark was sitting, a PS12 controller in his hands, the holo before him showing a frozen game scene from one of the latest first-person shooter games.
“They said you'd come. Is mum okay?”
“Yes, she's fine. Lovely poster you have. That's Desiree Organ, right? In the scene where she has just kissed Dwayne Hill. Interesting choice. Most boys your age would pick a nude actress or a porn scene.”
“Yeah, I'm odd. I know. I just like non-nude movies. Dunno why. Guess sometimes guessing is better than seeing?”
Indra shrugged. She would never understand children.
“So, Mark, can you tell us what happened?”
“Yeah, sure. Ummm, from the start of the day? Okay, so, my alarm woke me. Which is weird, usually mom wakes me with a morning blowjob. Did you know she was an actual blowjob champion? Anyway, she was not there, so I went down for breakfast. She wasn't in the kitchen either, that was weird. So I went to her bedroom. I found her there. She said her dom had forgotten to untie her and had me call uncle Glenn. But I don't understand. We had bondage earlier this year in sex ed. They told us the basic rule is to always make sure the sub is okay. How can a dom ever forget?”
“We don't know, Mark. Perhaps something unexpected came up, and he had to run?”
“But why did he take the keys then? And why are there police here? Something's wrong. Something bad has happened to mom. I think she doesn't want to tell me, but I'm not a child anymore. She can tell me!”
“Just go to mom and ask her when we're gone. Someone's cutting her loose now. She's okay.”
They closed the door behind them, and heard splashes and shots as Mark unpaused his game.
“Go talk to Sally. She should tell him.”
“Yes, I agree. He's already figuring it out. Better to hear it from her, so he can still trust her. I'll let her know. And what are you going to do?”
“Walk back to the precinct. I need to think. You can take the car with Stephen.”
Impressions of a new world
Wilburn sighs as he gets ready for the least favorite part of his job: the monthly welcoming of new factory employees. He forces his face into a smile as he opens the door to the waiting room. Seven new hires look up at him as he enters. Four women, three men. All young, at the start of their working career, about to start their first job.
“Welcome to Glaxo Johnson Kline, your new employer. Today is your first day at what I assume is the first job for all of you.”
He pauses briefly to see all new hires nod.
“My name is Wilburn Reid, I am your supervisor Right now, before you get started, I'll give some important instructions.”
He pauses again and nods approvingly as he sees three of the hires take out a writing pad and a pen, and two open up a tablet to make notes. The last two just remain seated, looking at him, either not interested or confident they'll remember his words.
“You will be working in a cleanroom. The medicines we produce are for vulnerable patients. It is of utmost importance to always observe the hygiene regulations. Shower before entering the work area. Wear one of the special suits provided. Drop it in the washing bin when you leave the cleanroom, never reuse a suit for any reason. Don't eat or drink in the cleanroom. Don't touch your face while in the cleanroom. And …”
Wilburn pauses. He knows the last rule always catches a few off guard, even though it is clearly stated in all job advertisements.
“… And no sex during work, as that would obviously also contaminate the cleanroom.”
As expected, three of the new hires gasp in surprise. One of them closes his tablet and raises his hand.
“Yes?”
“Isn't that unconstitutional? The 29th Amendment clearly …”
Wilburn has had this discussion too often. He lacks the patience to even let the man finish.
“No, young man. You, like so many others, have not read the actual text of the 29th. If you actually read it, you'll see it allows for exceptions if there are good reasons. I can assure you that keeping the cleanroom clean qualifies as a valid exception.”
Another short pause, then he resumes in his pleasant welcoming voice.
“Of course, we at Glaxo Johnson Kline still do all to ensure you can enjoy your rights as much as possible. That's why your working day has three two-hour shifts, with two paid one-hour breaks in between. During those breaks, you will leave the cleanroom. We have plenty of free food and drinks available in the canteen, and some very well-equipped sexcreational rooms. In addition to the high rates we pay for these entry-level jobs, we believe we offer good compensation for this necessary restriction of your sexual rights. But if you disagree, then you are free to leave. We will pay for one full day and wish you good luck finding another job.”
Just one of the hires, one of the women, gets up and leaves.
“Good. That leaves the six of you. I am happy. Before we continue with specific instructions, how about a sex break?”
Continue to: >> Chapter 4: Too much of a good thing | Return to: << Chapter 2: He could just have asked! << Table Of Contents << P.D. Vile's stories