“Bye Annie, see you soon,” Miss Hoffmann said with a smile.
And as Miss Hoffmann and Miss Sinn wandered out of the Savoy with Sir Adrian, I couldn’t help but stare. Pixie was a delight, small that is true but perfectly formed. That delicate arse, cute little tits and the plaits, yummy.
I knew she was happily married, but wondered if her delicious wife, Sarah might, given the right incentives, be willing to share. But l guess I shouldn’t lust after my new work colleague; but on the other hand … yes, if only she were available.
As I wandered back to the office I couldn’t help but reflect on my first five months at the Sinn Detective Agency – and in particular, what Miss Sinn has come to call the Case of the Green motherlode.
I was fresh out of university, academic double first at Cambridge of course. But having nailed school and University in England, I wanted to work there too. And when my academic advisor, Miss Flanders, suggested I follow up on a start-up firm she was advising on recruitment, I happily went down to London.
Miss Sinn, with her long statuesque legs that went on and on, took my double first in her stride, only par for the course she said. I was a bit deflated, to be honest. But she seemed more interested in my school career, and in particular what I had done as Enterprise officer at Trinian’s.
And oh my God that is another story, but Trinian’s had apparently set me up well for a career in a detective agency specialising in sexual misdemeanours and crimes – as I was about to find out.
The pay was good, and I celebrated by going deep into debt with new shoes and outfits.
At first, it felt as if I was Miss Sinn’s general dog’s body; but I was determined to make my name.
Then one day Miss Sinn took a day’s leave and an opportunity presented itself when a rather bland looking guy wandered into the office.
No pleasantries, he was straight to the point, “There is something that I think your firm is well placed to deal with.”
“I’m afraid Miss Sinn is away today….”
He interrupted, “It is you I wanted to see Miss Scarlet.”
“Scarlet isn’t my surname.”
He smiled, “I know, did you ever play Cluedo?”
“Yes, why?”
“Miss Scarlet in the bedroom with the revolver came to mind.”
“You aren’t going to make that joke.”
“What, the Annie get your gun one.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes that one, I had to put up with it at school.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have been so good with the strap on in the dorm then.”
My face fell, totally shocked. He knew.
“Yes Annie, I know more about most things than you realize. Including Trinian’s. But I am only telling you this to show you that I am in the same business as you.”
“Then why do you need our services? And why me?”
“Because Miss Sinn specialises in Sapphic cases. And because you, my dear are less well known than she is.”
That intrigued me, with the prospect that I could have my own investigation, “So what do you need me to find out.”
“Nothing, we know it all. But if I could give you a little mentoring advice.”
I nodded and he continued, “The smaller part of being a good detective is finding out the truth. The larger part is execution.”
Placing a green object that looked surprisingly like a butt plug on the table in front of me, he stared at me daring me to speak.
“It looks like a butt plug,” I finally said.
“I see a Cambridge education wasn’t wasted on you then.”
“Maybe, but I don’t get why you have pulled out a butt plug.”
He smiled, “It wasn’t inserted, Annie. Yet, that is.”
I giggled, “Ok you have me intrigued. Please continue.”
“One of her Majesty’s emeralds has been stolen. It was in her Art Deco Emerald Choker.”
“Oh my God, the one the Queen loaned to Diana.”
“Exactly which is why she wants it back. Now it happens we actually know where it is.”
He placed a photo in front of me.
“The man,” I asked.
“No the woman behind him.”
I focused on her, city type obviously. Power suit, a sense of entitlement.
“Her?” I asked pointing.
“Yes, she is your age, just as ambitious. But her ambition borders on overconfidence. She thinks she is better than everyone else. That is her Achilles heel.”
“And,” I asked.
“You are good, yes there is an and,” he smiled, “And dominant at work but secretly very sub in the bedroom. After her current mistress made the emerald into a butt plug, she needed a hiding place and the Diana emerald is currently in the young lady’s bum.”
“So you can just arrest her, bend her over and get the emerald back.”
“We can indeed, that is plan B.”
“So what is plan A?”
“She is at the Savoy tonight. And if we can substitute the real emerald with the one in front of you tonight, then we can get the jewel back and tomorrow she and her mistress will lead us to the mastermind.”
He smiled and continued, “I think that is enough information. Detective hat on now Annie and tell me what I want you to do.”
I knew then he was right that this case was mainly execution. It was plainly obvious what he wanted me to do.
“You want me to head down to the Savoy, seduce Miss Citytype and in the throes of passion replace the emerald in her arse with the one in front of me.”
“Exactly.”
After fifteen more minutes telling me all he knew about Miss Citytype, he left. Of course, once this case concluded Miss Sinn scolded me for not establishing a sizeable fee before he left, but a girl can’t be expected to concentrate on money at a time like that: the emerald took precedence.
It only took five minutes after he left for anxiety to grip me, maybe I was in too deep. But in the midst of my depressive introspection, my mobile rang.
“Guess who, you slut,” said the dulcet Aussie voice on the other end.
Of course, I knew exactly who it was, Belles, my best friend from school.
“Where are you?”
“Down by St Paul’s.”
“Come over the office is close by.”
Belles entered our office, laughing so hard she had tears disturbing her makeup.
Hugging me, she took some time to get herself under control, before gasping, “You working at a place called Sinn. How fucking appropriate.”
“Excuse me Isobel; this is a serious career position.”
“Isobel is it now?… A serious position, Annabel?”
“Yes,” I sniffed.
“Well I suppose you have a lot of experience in sinful positions,” she replied before being consumed by another round of giggles.
“Fuck you, Isobel.”
“In good time Annabel, in good time. First, tell me what is that?”
Belles was pointing at the fake emerald butt plug.
“Butt plug…” I stammered.
“Yours? I thought you didn’t tolerate anything bigger than a finger in your arse.”
I told her what I had to do, knowing I could trust her – and that her own inclinations might actually help me.
“Dominatrix seducing a real sub, you?” Belles was consumed with another fit of giggles. Her third fit of giggles lasted way longer than the other two.
“I can do it,” I huffed
She pulled herself together and looked at me tenderly, “Yes maybe sweetheart. But when you play domme you are firm, in a cute and adorable way. Turns me on something wicked. But that isn’t enough to get to a real sub you know.”
“And you can?” I sarcastically remarked, tapping the toe of my stiletto.
“I think you will find I have the experience. And…”
“So humble,” I muttered.
“And,” Belles continued, unmoved by my petulance, “As your best friend, I won’t let you get out of your depth.”
We talked some more about how we could swap the emeralds and I realised that maybe she had a point.
“So that is the plan.” Belles concluded, “I will go and buy our outfits, on your expense account I trust.”
“I will have to get Miss Sinn’s signoff.”
Of course I couldn’t raise Miss Sinn, so had to call our US office where I got signoff after listening to some more hysterical giggles. Mel, the gorgeous young Canadian who ‘did’ for Miss Sinn in the States, also could hardly stop laughing.
So that was how I ended up outside the Savoy in nipple clamps and with a fake emerald in my arse.
Miss Citytype was at the bar as Belles and I walked into the Savoy. Her eyes followed us. I suppose the short white dress I was almost wearing helped, especially when contrasted with Belles’ tight black skirt and top. The five inch heels may have assisted the process, of course.
As we sat at the bar, I could see her eyes looking at my legs, so parted them just a little. Belles smiled at her and beckoned her across. Would she come? There was a moment’s struggle … then she gave in.
”My little sexy friend here is my submissive, and if you’d care to join us in Room 101, we can cut the crap and fuck.”
I was shocked by how direct Belles was, and thought my career had just hit a pothole. But no, Belles brazenness won the day. Miss Citytype blushed, but nodded.
”Give us ten minutes. Here’s the spare key card.”
Exactly ten minutes later she opened the door.
The sight before her might have been designed to lure her in; indeed, it was.
My dress raised above my arse, my panties off, I was bent over, giving a fine view of both my holes – my arsehole being filled with the fake emerald butt plug.
”Oh fuck!” was all the blonde Miss Citytype could say. Her face was red as a beetroot.
“I think you’d look good in the same position,” Belles ordered.
Belles looked at her, licking her lips. She went over to her, putting her finger under her chin.
“Are you telling me that you don’t want to be bent over like that, next to my submissive, with me fingering both of you? If you are lucky, I will let you kiss the bitch.”
Miss Citytype gulped.
“Bend over bitch.”
And she did. I looked at her as her face was next to mine and blew her a kiss.
Her skirt went up, her tights and panties came off.
Belles pulled the plug out of my arse with a ‘pop.’
Taking her strap-on, she proceeded to bugger me until I was begging her to stop.
But when I looked at Miss Citytype, she was drooling.
“Now for you, bitch. Bugger me, you even have a similar butt plug. Out it comes missy!”
And, with another ‘pop,’ it did, and as I kissed blondie, Belles buggered her until she came.
“And now, as you are so open!”
With that, she inserted the butt plug – my fake one, of course.
She inserted the real one in my arse. I groaned and kissed Miss Citytype.
“Did you like that blondie?” Belles asked.
Miss Citytype nodded and blushed.
“Well we come here quite often, so look out for us, now fuck off.”
And, amazingly, off she fucked.
I kissed Belles.
“You were right, I couldn’t have done that. How can I ever repay you?” I asked, throwing my arms around her shoulders.
“Our usual way, sweetheart, by fucking each other senseless. We should get out of here, I don’t want to be here if Miss Citytype returns. Come to my hotel when you finish with Miss Sinn tomorrow. In the morning, I am going to a chemist to buy some soothing arnica cream for your arse.”
When I entered the office the next day, Monica whispered, “Miss Sinn has already chewed my arse, she seems cross and very keen to see you. There is some random guy in with her.”
I knocked and entered. My boss looked irritated, as she usually did when she was not in control, while the man who seemed to be my new mentor beamed indulgently.
“A success I take it,” he asked.
“Yes,” I smiled.
He leant over and whispered in Miss Sinn’s ear. Her eyebrow went up in surprise, the first time and only time I have ever seen her surprised.
“I trust you are happy with the fee,” he then said.
“Yes, yes,” said Miss Sinn, suddenly all sweetness and light, “Sit Annie and have some tea.”
“I think I would rather stand.”
He laughed, “Is the emerald where I think it is?”
“Yes,” I replied.
Which is how I came to be bent over, knickers around my ankles, pussy and arse on display, as my boss and my new mentor extracted one of the Crown Jewels out of my arsehole.
After that, no case has seemed too strange, too intimate or too embarrassing.
Miss Sinn gave me the day off and access to the corporate credit card. And later in the day, I promised myself that I would visit the shoe shop.
But first I needed to see Belles and fuck her senseless in whatever way she wanted. Yes, even my arse would be on the menu for her to choose.
And I knew that I needed her as a mentor as well as a friend. Learning some more about being a domme was clearly a career skill I needed to develop to flourish in this firm.
