by N. M. Brown
“Thank you.” Hale gave one apprehensive glance at the ceiling, before marching back into the foyer and up the royal, blue carpeted stairs. Rushing to catch up with Hale, McQueen wondered just what kind of place this was, with three floors of rooms and a 'Summer Annex'? What other rooms did they have here? And what made them so special that they donned titles and names?
As they took the first bend, McQueen looked to his left. Where there should have been a wall sporting ugly family portraits or, for a grand house like this - a shield maybe - instead was open air that looked out on a Ballroom. An actual ballroom. McQueen feet slowed as he took in the polished wooden floor and the golden, cream walls. Portraits hung up in here, so large it was as if the room had been made just for them. Seven of them in total, each at least six feet by four feet. Three men, three women and one that looked a little in-between. They were an odd-looking family; nothing at all between them to suggest family resemblance or genetics. It was curious as to why these people mighthave evencome together. Looking up to the floor he now slowly approached, McQueen felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and a cold chill sweep his neck, like someone just walked over his grave.
II
Echo laughed as she lounged in the Summer Annex, feeling the thrill of passion spark in her veins. The room was long and rectangular, with beautiful green tropical wallpaper and gold mouldings from floor to ceiling. In every corner stood tall frilly ferns in huge pots with blooming flowers clustered underneath. The air was pungent with the sweet scent of exotic worlds and faraway lands. Echo loved to run her fingers through the plant life and become lost in the smell.
She sat there now, her legs thrown over one arm of her high back chair head thrown over the other, drinking in the sounds and smells of the room. Large rose coloured, low bearing couches were scattered across the room, all designed for the ultimate relaxing position. They could easily fit twenty to thirty people comfortably and this room was designed for the up most comfort. In the centre was a carved oak four-poster bed with no head board or edging, allowing perfect viewing pleasure from every angle. The pinks, greens and splashes of colour from the flowers made the room seem like a far-off jungle paradise or a mythical garden. It was one of Echo’s favourite rooms. Large panned windows lined the west wall, allowing dappled sun light though the sheer pink curtains. Basking in the rising sun light, Echo marvelled at how it was morning already. Time really did fly when you’re having fun. Suddenly, a strangled yelp cried from the middle of the room, drawing a crooked smile to Echo’s lips.
Glancing that way, Echo twirled the stainless-steel handcuffs around her finger again, while her other hand tipped the Officer’s hat to a more alluring angle. Samantha had been working him for twenty minutes or so and was dragging him too his peek. Cock clutched in her hand, Sam squeezed hard drawing a strangled yelp from the poor sap and once again denied him his release. His other pals; a woman who came with him and the other two who came later to round them up, laughed around him. They were all undressed in some way, shirts missing with pants around their ankles and drinks in hand. There were a few extra women as well who had stayed despite the police showing up and were in much of the same state. Some completely naked while others were just in their underwear. Lying in the centre of the room upon the bed, the man begged.
“Oh, please. Oh please!” Sam mocked, her nailed scrapping down his chest, running over his nipple. “What do you want? Why do you beg?” She purred.
“You! Oh, you. Please. I want you, all of you. Finish me!” He begged again.
“How do you want us to finish you?” Samantha cooed, slowly pulling her clenched fist up, pulling his foreskin over his sensitive red head.
“Anyway! Please.” The cop didn't move his armsor his legs despite his aggravated state. He’d already learnt that movement and twisting only caused him more denial. “I’ll do anything. Give anything. Please, please.” His eyes were trained on Sam, her plump red lips blowing soft air on his cock tip. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” He bubbled. A strangled gasp and a curse slapped through the red, lustful haze of the room.
Looking to the door, Echo saw two men: one a blonde beach boy in his Sunday best, while the other was a hunk with a don’t-fuck-with-me scowl. Sam had noticed too but she didn’t stop, only pushed further. “Look my love. We have guests.” She grinned wickedly at the door but didn’t stop giving her attention to the star of the show, “Shall I let them finish you?” She lifted the man’s head, allowing him to see who stood at the door.
The man’s eyes flickered in uncertainty. Clearly, he recognised the men at the door, and they recognised him. It was comical to watch the horror, surprise, confusion and disgust fly around the room, but for the poor officer, it didn't last. He was completely enthralled. Not that he had much of a choice. Sam’s aura rolled his mind and his cock.
“Yes.” He breathed, eyes ravaging the two new bodies that had entered the room. “Yes, let them! I want them. Finish me.” He strained his hips in the air, drawing the two men’s attention to his throbbing cock, still in Sam’s grip.
Echo watched as the taller man, skin as dark as chocolate, clenched his fists in rage while his eyes narrowed at the scene before him. He was pissed but remarkably keeping a level head which was surprising considering the circumstance. The other, with a mop of blonde curls and storm grey eyes looked horrified. He’d taken an immediate step back and had even gone as far as to cover his mouth in shock, but now he was attempting the professional approach. Biting his lower lip and clenching his hands, he puffed out his chest as if he could mentally dominate this scene and be unbothered by it. He however, couldn’t hide his smelled of shock or fear, and Echo could taste the faintest curl of lust. Maybe he liked the sight of the man, maybe it was the scenario, or maybe it was Sam; whoever the blonde saw her as. He clearly liked something, even if he wouldn’t admit it.
“Hummm, best not.” Sam said after a pause, dragging her tongue up her captive’s chest, and swirling his nipple. “I see something that shines on our newcomers. I don’t think they’d find pleasure in our games.” Sam’s spare hand never stopped trailing all over the man’s body running up and down his length. Echo enjoyed watching the blonde in the doorways as his eyes followed. “Girl. Deal with them.”
“Yes Samantha.” Echo acknowledged before rising to stand like a slow, lazy cat, tossing the hat and cuffs aside. Stood in front of the blonde, she made sure to invade his personal space. “Can I help you, kind gentlemen?” Echo hummed. She wore a black lace bra which just held her voluptuous breasts, while a long black, sheer kimono hung off her shoulders. She also wore leather trousers and heeled boots which made her the most dressed person in the room. Black was her shade. Pale skin like an Arctic sheet and long raven hair, she looked ravishing in anything dark and luxurious.
“I'm Detective Hale and this is Detective McQueen of the Rippling Police Department. We need to speak with the owner.” The tall dark and surly man spoke; eyes trained to her face rather than what was around him. Prude, Echo thought. Who would want to miss the glory of sex? Though less feverish and heated, moans still carried around the room and heavy pleading still came from the man in the centre.
“Or the owner’s sister, or ward.” The blonde, McQueen spoke up, also only looking at her, though she didn’t think that was helping him. A light sheen had grown on his forehead, and his breathing was hitched. One hand kept twitching up his chest like he was reaching for something. Echo found herself intrigued.
“Well, the owner is away, and his sister, Samantha, has her… hands full.” Echo chuckled as she flicked a single finger towards Sam. A sudden screamed erupted from the officer’s mouth at her movement, like she’d flicked a switch. It was drawn deep from the depth of his belly and rose up across the rest of the room. The others joined, and they climaxed together. Their cries followed while both Detectives startled like scared cats, eyes dragged back to the centre of the room. Like a pack of wolves, the soon to be ex-officers leaped forward, licking the trail of salty cum tha
t laced the man’s chest, sharing it in kisses and heated pawing. Samantha was at the centre, multiple hands grasping her breasts and fingers trailing lower. She was euphoric to look at. Head swept back, eyes closed she drank in the attention like a starved beast. She didn’t touch anyone or reciprocated the touches of lust. She just waited and relished. She fed.
Detective Hales seemed unfazed that Samantha had allowed the man some final release, while McQueen looked sick. Echo didn’t know what the Detectives saw, but she knew it would be different for each. Catered to every person’s taste, Sam or Samantha appeared just as the onlooker desired. Red hair, black hair, thick or thin, she or he shifted in their minds eye like a fluttering butterfly. Detective Hale looked stricken, like he might cry, while the blonde still looked horrified. Echo wondered what he saw. What could be so awful?
“So, as you can see, Sam’s busy.” Echo spoke up, drawing back their attention. “But I’m Archer’s charge. You may speak with me.” She didn't move however instead enjoyed making the two suits wait longer in this room. Their discomfort pleased her.
“Is there another room in which we can speak?” Hale snapped, all business again. He was even less pleased than before. Something had pushed his buttons.
Sighing heavily, Echo rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance. Let them feel like fish out of water, let them feel off tilt; Samantha’s advice rolled through her mind. Off balance, they would be easy to sway and push in whatever direction she wanted. “If we must... Follow me. We’ll go to the Winter Wing.” Moving slowly past the Detectives, Echo led them across the hall into a smaller rectangular room, which was much less flamboyant. It was all white.
White walls with panels at equal spaces with a white ceiling that held the same beautiful crown moulding. The floor was the only colour; a rich creamy, honey coloured wood that was polished to a high shine. There were highlights of gold in the wide chandelier; twisted with gold flowers and vines clinging to candles, as well wall mounts to match. A long glass cabinet sat to one side, dotted with vases and antiques that were so old they were held together with dust. Echo knew how the room looked: cold and distant with a show of wealth and elegance as soon as you entered the door. It was to intimidate and impress Archer’s clients as they first walked in. However, for them the shine was slightly lost as the room looked to have been used recently. The long, modern white business table was full of crumpled paper and empty water glasses, while gold topped pens dotted the table. "Don't mind the mess." Echo said over her shoulder. "Archer had a successful day today. Sometimes he likes to bask in the destruction after. It reminds him of his victory."
Shoving some mess further down the table, Echo selected the chair at the end, taking the prime position. The Detectives were forced to take the side seats, which was a clear sign of dominance in her favour. Leader to subordinates. Front-runner to minors. Only McQueen muttered some thanks as they all took their seats.
“How can I be of assistance Detectives?” Sat where she was, Echo felt the sense of power that came with it. It was an exhilarating feeling and she could understand how Archer got off on it.
“We wish to ask you some questions about the crime scene that has occurred on your grounds.”
“What about it?” Echo asked. She'd heard about it, the whispers around the House about the grisly state of the bodies and the manner in which they were found. She wasn't fussed. The proximity of the dead bodies meant nothing to her. But now, if the police were determined to stomp through the House over this, then it was her business.
“Did you call in the scene to the emergencies services operator?” Hale referred to his note pad that rested in his chunky hand. “A Ms. Summers left her name but hung up?”
Echo refrained from rolling her eyes. “No. That’s our bartender. She’s downstairs somewhere.” Sydney Summers had been around for a while now and Echo still couldn’t stand the girl. She was a preppy, bouncy pain in the ass that mooned after Sam like a kicked puppy. Whoever she saw when looking at the vision of lust, it over took the dumb girls mind. She had a short blonde pixie cut and doll like features that enjoyed being poked into everyone’s business. “I’m sure she’ll hear of your arrival and come looking.”
“Right.” Hale wrote something down. “And you are…?”
“Echo Headly.” Her eyes swivelled to McQueen. While both the Detectives had sat down, he had become distracted, looking around the room. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, even after he saw that she was watching him.
“Ms... Headly…” Hale scribbled in his notes. “And can you tell us anything about the victims? Any notion you might know who they are? Or perhaps any sign of some customers acting odd? Out of the normal?”
Echo couldn’t help but laugh. “Detective, this House is anything but normal. In fact, I’m surprised a murdered body hasn’t been found here sooner”. Echo smiled at him but made sure not to give too much away. No, it was best not to let the two police detectives know dead bodies made frequent trips in and out of this establishment. “Lots of unseemly and sometimes immoral things happen here. But most common are the orgasms and business deals. As you've already seen, we cater to a lot of tastes.”
Detective Hale looked disturbed but continued making notes. McQueen however seemed to have collected himself from his previous fluster. “And apart from fornications and under hand dealings, nothing else abnormal happens here Ms. Headly?” He swivelled on his chair and gave Echo his full attention. Hands clasped together on the table top, Echo could take in his fine upper physique. Strong broad shoulders and a trim form, the Detective was in good shape. His choice of words made her smile though. 'Fornication'. He sounded like he was at Sunday school.
“If you would really like to know Detective, I can give you a guided tour.” Echo dragged her bottom lip through her teeth while her words were deep and husky. She smiled as a soft blush crept up the Detectives neck, yet before he could accept… or deny her offer, a sharp rapid knock echoed off the door and Sydney stepped into the room. Her hair looked a mess and her dark tanned skin held a slight seen of sweat.
“Hi. I heard you might be here.” She smiled a little breathless. No doubt she'd run up the stairs. Eager little bitch, hungry for the spotlight, Echo thought. “I expected you might wish to talk to me.”
“Ms. Summers?” Hale stood, being closest to the door and shook Sydney’s hand. “Yes, thank you for coming to find us.”
“I was just telling the Detectives how you called nine-nine-nine.” Echo smiled. Sydney walked forward, a bounce in her step and she took the empty seat next to Hale. Hale sat back down and gave his full attention to Sydney – just like she’d begged for.
“Ms. Summers, you-,”
“Please call me Sydney.”
Hale stumbled over his words, clearly not one for informalities, but give the man his due, he continued. “Sydney, you called nine-nine-nine- at two-twelve am. Correct?”
“Yes. Oh, it was terrible." She dabbed the corner of her eyes, as if remembering brought painful memories and imaginary tears. She did look to be the damsel in distress. Despite the short, pixie hair, she was all the makings of a princess; plump lips, long eyelashes, rosy cheeks and petite build. Very pretty. Very perky. She made Echo sick, but then it was all the more fun to shun and ignore her when she begged for attention.
"Can you tell us, in your own words Ms. Summers, what happened?" McQueen now also held his pen, poised and ready to make notes.
“Well, I serve the dinks around the main floor. I don’t make them, but-… I mean I want to, someday, but for now I carry them on one of those little trays and people just take what they would like.” Sydney sniffed, and Echo could feel her body demanding to be allowed to slouch. “At the most there isone or two bartenders, well, and Echo of course, but she doesn’t work much, but I would love to be there, mixing and pouring. I really admire what they do, and I think I could have the charisma…”
This was going to be a long-ass story. But outwards appearances were just as important as what you say,
and the Detectives needed to be eating out of her hands, not wondering why she wasn’t being as helpful as possible.“Take a breath honey.” Echo smiled at Sydney, making sure, due to the many times she practiced in the mirror, that her smiled reached her eyes. Not an easy feat when you loath the little begging cockroach. “Just stick to what happened.”
And like a good little beggar-girl, Sydney smiled back. BFF’s all the way. “Ok, sooo- sorry, where was I? Ummm-… so I carry the drinks, and one man, he was quite rude, but he wanted a different drink and I didn’t have it. Well Detective, I don’t have to tell you the clients here are… high profile. He wasn’t best-,”
Echo coughed. Hard.
“Ms. Headly, Something in your throat?” Hale asked, but his voice drawled and lacked any and all empathy.
“Just a tick.” Echo smiled, settling down allowing her body to completely relax. That was key. Don’t tense, don’t blink. Don’t even look at Sydney or they’d read too much into it. Instead, Echo looked to the blonde McQueen and his eyes: storm grey but soft. He was a soft man; she could see it in the gentle curve of laugher lines around his eyes, the twitch in his lip as he started to smile at her politely, just because she was looking. He was a lamb, grazing in the dragon’s den.