Anita Reaming Undercover

Undercover

An Anita Reaming Erotic Mystery

By Magda McKune

Chapter 1

I pulled on a light blue crotch length silk robe over my naked body and headed to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

I glanced out the window over the kitchen sink and noticed a big red Cadillac in our driveway. The driver's side door opened and a woman with wavy black hair wearing a fox fur coat climbed out. "Laymee?" I called. "Are we expecting company?"

My partner appeared at my side wearing a matching mini robe of red silk. "Oh shit. Is it 10:00 already?"

"It's 9:38."

"It's our client. She must be early."

I glared at the girl. "Ya' think?"

"Let me go put some clothes on."

"Forget it," I snorted, hooking my hand on her arm. "She'll just understand she caught us off guard by arriving early."

"Maybe 9:30 in the morning isn't early for her," Laymee protested as I dragged her out the side door behind me.

The woman paused with her fist raised ready to knock on the door to our garage office. She looked at us, her face an expression of mild surprise. "Anita Reaming?"

I nodded and smiled. "That's me."

The woman's eyes scanned our casual wardrobes. "I hope you don't mind that I'm a tad early."

"Don't be silly." I glanced at my partner." "We were just... relaxing." I unlocked the door to the office and held it open for her. "Please, won't you come in?"

The lady stepped into our outer office. I pulled Laymee close to me. "You could have told me we had a client this morning," I whispered.

"Sorry. It must have slipped my mind."

I playfully swatted her bottom. "I'm gonna give you such a spanking later."

"Promises, promises."

I stepped past the woman and gestured to the open door of my office. "Please, won't you come in Ms. -?"

"Childers," she said, entering my office. "Sophie Childers."

Laymee and I followed. "And what can I we do for you, Ms. Childers?"

The woman stood by the padded armchair in front of my desk. "First of all," she said matter-of-factly, "You can remove your clothes for me."

I stopped. "I beg your pardon?"

"Take your robes off... both of you, if you please."

I furrowed my brow with a puzzled expression at our guest, then looked at my partner. Laymee just shrugged and opened the front of her robe wide for our client's examination. I thought it an odd request, but didn't feel uncomfortable in complying. Hell, wee bared our bodies to cheering and leering crowds almost every night. Any inhibitions regarding baring my body to strangers had vanished years ago. I opened my robe and shrugged it from my shoulders, the garment slipping down my back and arms to my wrists.

The woman looked at our naked display without expression. "Very nice," she stated quite clinically. She turned and sat in the cushioned chair in front of my desk. "Thank you."

Weird, I grimaced, pulling my robe back on. "I take it you wanted to check us out for concealed weapons?" I asked, moving behind my desk.

"Or wires?" Laymee snorted.

The corner of the woman's mouth curled up in a tiny smile. "I realize my request was a bit unorthodox, but I assure you my meaning will become clear after I explain my situation."

I sat in my desk chair and rested my forearms on the desktop. Laymee moved behind me and rested her hand on the back of my seat.

"As you may or may not know," Sophie said, "I run an establishment on the North side of town called Madam Sophie's."

"I think I heard of it," I mused. "Isn't that a -?"

"Whorehouse," Laymee interrupted.

The woman gave a nominal shrug. "For lack of a more politically correct term, yes. But mine is a very fine establishment catering to a limited clientele. Quite respectable in every way."

"I'm sure it is," Laymee grunted.

"My niece is getting married next month," Sophie continued. "My sister's daughter. Sissy asked me if her daughter could have our mother's diamond wedding ring. I was hesitant since mother had passed away years ago and the ring was the only thing I had left to remind me of her. I finally agreed, however, since it would remain in the family and her memory would live on."

"Very generous of you," I said.

"Ah, but therein lies the rub," she said. "I took it out of my safe deposit box at the bank last week. I intended to have it cleaned before delivering it to my sister later this month. She could have it sized for Rebecca's finger. That's my niece - Rebecca. Anyway, I left it in my desk at work - locked, of course. But when I checked on it two days ago, the drawer was jimmied open and the ring was gone."

"Stolen?" I asked.

"Apparently."

"You're thinking one of your clients took it?" Laymee asked.

"I don't think so. Most of them are very wealthy and influential people. I doubt any of them would stoop to burglary."

"You'd be surprised what some people are capable of," Laymee huffed, resting her arm on my chair.

"Then who do you suspect stole it?" I asked.

"One of my girls, of course. I showed the ring to them the evening I brought it from the bank. Most of my girls have been with me for years and it never occurred to me that one of them might steal something of mine. I would hate to think I was wrong about one of them."

"And you never showed it to any of your clients?"

"No."

"Could any of your girls have shown the ring to a client?"

"As I said, my desk was locked. I checked the ring the day after I put it in my desk, and once again two days ago. That was when I discovered it missing."

"What happened two days ago that made you want to check on it?"

The woman looked a little uncomfortable. "There was an incident," she hedged. "One client got a little rough with one of the girls. Hurt her pretty bad."

"I thought you said your clients were respectable," Laymee snorted, crossing her arms over her bosom.

"I said they were wealthy and influential. Very powerful, some even dangerous. I didn't know that this one client had begun to use cocaine. He became violent. By the time my girls and his friends intervened, Julie was beaten rather severely. They had to take her to the hospital."

"I didn't read about that in the newspaper," I said.

"You wouldn't," Ms Childers replied. As I said, these are very powerful and influential people."

"Nice," Laymee snorted.

"I suppose I got a bit paranoid over the situation and worried about the safety of my mother's diamond ring. It was then that I discovered to my horror that it was gone."

"So you think maybe one of your girls used that incident as an opportunity to break into your desk and steal the ring?"

"It's a possibility."

"And you want us to find out which of your, um... ladies did it."

Ms. Childers nodded. "You happen to have a unique professional advantage in this situation, Miss Reaming," she said. "If the police department started snooping around, or even if a male detective started interrogating my girls they'd clam up and we'd getting nowhere. But if someone of your special talents and appearance were to win their confidence - "

"I see where this is going," Laymee groused. "She wants us to go under cover."

I looked at my partner with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

"She wants us to pose as a couple of whores."

I turned to our guest. "Is that true?"

The woman reddened slightly. "Well... "

"That's why she wanted us to show our naked bodies to her when she came in," Laymee snorted.

"It will only be for a day or two," Sophie interjected.

I sat in silence, weighing the possibilities of the case. Laymee rested her hand on my shoulder. "Tell me you're not actually considering this?" she scowled.

I raised an index finger to our client. "If you'll excuse us for a moment," I said. "I have to confer with my associate." I swiveled my seat to the side and gripped Laymee's collar, pulling her face close to mine. "It's only for a day or two," I whispered. "And she'll be paying us."

"It's a whorehouse for Pete's sake," she murmured under her breath, her face inches from mine.

"We'll be investigating a case. And it's not like you've never had sex with a complete stranger before."

"Having sex for fun and sex for money are two entirely different things."

Ms. Childers cleared her throat and we both looked at our client. "I'll pay you five hundred dollars in advance," she said, laying five crisp bills on my desk. "It's yours even if you don't find the thief."

I turned my face back to my partner. "You heard the woman," I whispered. "Cash in advance."

"Well... "

"I'll even let you wear my favorite red corset.

"And that sexy black leather bustier?"

"Yes."

"And your Italian high-heels?"

"Deal!"

Laymee expelled her breath in a sigh. "It is only for a couple of days."

I pulled her mouth down to mine and gave her a long wet kiss. "Do you know how much I love you?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Chapter 2

Madam Sophie left us with a photograph of the ring so we would know what we were looking for. It was a picture of her right hand with the ring on her fourth finger. The setting had a collection of dazzling diamonds in an unusual arrangement. We shouldn't have any problem identifying it once we found it.

I hoped the ring hadn't been fenced by one of Sophie's girls yet, if one of them was indeed the culprit. The girl would surely have skipped out on her employer the moment she had the cash in her hands. No, I was certain the ring was still well-hidden, but it was only a matter of time before it would be sold.

I suspected the thief had an accomplice to help sell the stolen ring. Most pawn shops and jewelry stores have surveillance cameras in use in case of robbery. Sophie's girls would want to unload the hot item, but wouldn't want to be caught on camera dumping it. If she had an accomplice, like a man posing as a regular customer, he could exchange the ring for cash and spilt the booty with his partner. It would be much harder to catch the thieves red-handed if there were two of them.

We called Police Detective Nick Noble to help us with the case. Nick helped us with cases before, partly because we rewarded his assistance with plenty of hot wild sex. The cop was a tall blonde handsome stud that could endure an all-night sex-a-thon with Laymee and me. And he would leave us both satisfied, which was a surprising feat in itself.

Detective Noble arrived around noon as Laymee and I were packing for our stay at the whorehouse. We filled a single suitcase for the two of us, knowing we didn't need much else besides naughty nightwear.

The man let himself in the kitchen door and found us in the bedroom. "Taking a trip?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Laymee snorted as she dug through the dresser looking for her sluttiest lingerie. "More like a working vacation."

"We're on a job," I explained. "A woman hired us to recover a stolen diamond ring." I handed him the photograph. "Could you please circulate this picture to the pawn shops and jewelry stores around town for us?"

"Sure thing," he nodded. "Why is your client going through you and not the police?"

"Well, our client doesn't want too many cops nosing around and asking questions. It's bad for business."

"Oh? What kind of business?"

Laymee turned to him and scowled with her hands clamped on her slender hips. "A whorehouse, if you can believe that!" the girl spat acidly. "Anita wants us to pose as whores for a couple days to catch this jewel thief."

The man looked at me and her with an expression of incredulity. His face suddenly burst into a wide smile and he had to turn away with his hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out loud with laughter.

I threw up my hands in disgust. "Yuk it up," I snorted in a huff. "This happens to be a genuine case we're in and I don't know any other way to get the inside information."

The cop expelled his breath in a loud guffaw. "I'm sorry!" he laughed gleefully. "When you ladies decide to go deep under cover, you really get immersed in the role!"

Laymee glared icily at me. "I knew we'd get that kind of reaction from him."

Noble turned to me and laughed, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Forgive me, but I just had a vision of you ladies sitting in the parlor waiting for your customers to arrive."

"Don't laugh too hard, Nickie boy," I grinned, stepping closer and patting him on the arm. "You are going to be one of those customers."

His smile instantly disappeared. "What do you mean?"

"Well, neither of us will be here when you need to contact us about the jewelry stores and pawn shops. We'll be working so we can't have a cell phone with us and you can't call the whorehouse without blowing our cover. The only way to get a message to us is to deliver it in person."

The man gaped at me incredulous. "No!" Laymee grinned and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh yes," I chuckled.

Nick gaped at me and turned to Laymee, his eyes pleading. "I can't be seen going into a whorehouse! My career as a policeman would be over!"

I grinned and balled my fists on my hips. "Then you better make sure nobody finds out about you or us or anything else about this case."

Our friend winced in dismay. "How do I let you ladies talk me into things like this?"

"Awww baby," I cooed lovingly, slipping my arm through his elbow. "We have it all figured out. When you show up at the cathouse, I'll take you up to my room so we can talk in private. And as long as we're up there, you may as well act the part of a genuine paying customer." I raised my hand and caressed his cheek with my fingertips. "Immerse yourself in the role, so to speak."

"Or you could find yourself being my customer," Laymee leered. "And I guarantee that look of sheer and utter exhaustion when you leave won't be an act."

Nick sighed dolefully and shook his head. "You girls are going to be the death of me yet."

Madam Sophie led us up the stairs to our rooms. "I'm going to have to treat you the same as the other girls here," she explained. "If you are to be convincing as new girls under my employ."

"I understand."

"Each girl usually entertains three to four clients a night," she said. "That's about one an hour."

"I understand."

"But we sometimes have to go into overtime if one of the girls is sick or we get really busy."

"Fair enough."

Sophie opened the door to my room. It was about the size of a regular bedroom with a full-size bed, dresser, table and chair. "Every client gets an hour of your time, regardless if he wants a hand job, blow job, intercourse, or just wants to cuddle and talk."

I nodded with understanding and looked around as I set my suitcase on the bed.

"Any questions?" she asked.

"Not right now."

"All right then." She opened the door to leave. "Clients start to arrive around eight o'clock. Be down in the parlor before then."

"Knock knock," Laymee called, rapping her knuckles on my bedroom door and poking her head inside. "Are you decent?"

"That question is still open for debate."

The girl stepped into my room and closed the door behind her. My ruby red corset fir her perfectly, falling just above her matching silk red panties and pushing her petite titties up enough to make them very inviting indeed. A pair of red stiletto high heel shoes completed the ensemble. "So, do I look all right?" she asked.

"You look very sexy."

I had my foot up on the bed, hooking the clasps of my black lace garter to the thigh high stockings. The matching half cup brassiere lifted my boobs up higher with the nipples peeking invitingly over the top. No panties for me. A sheer transparent crotch-length black shawl covered my nakedness just enough. I stepped into my black high heels and turned to my friend. "How do I look?"

"Like a whore."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"I just had a chat with one of the other girls named Angela," Laymee said leaning her back against the wooden door. "She said that the girls working for Madam Sadie don't get much pay for humping customers all night. In fact, she said it was little more than white slavery."

"Sounds like she had a good motive for stealing the jewel."

"I thought so too, but she dismissed it a moment later by telling me it sure beat freezing her ass off on the corner as a common street whore. She used to work for a pimp with six girls in his stable until he got his guts carved out in a barroom knife fight."

"Yeck," I grimaced.

"Angela told me she was on the street starving to death before Sadie took her in. She said that this isn't the best game in town, but at least it's a roof over her head. Sadie screens the clients pretty thoroughly so the girls don't have to screw every asshole with twenty bucks in his hand. Plus, she now has some days off and a few friends to pal around with on those days, too."

"I take it, you believe Angela is no longer on our list of suspects."

Laymee shrugged a shoulder. "I don't think she'd risk being tossed out onto the street again."

"Hmmm," I grunted. "Then we still have three more suspects to go." I glanced at the small clock on the table beside the bed. "I suppose it's time we get to work."

Laymee and I went down to the parlor to meet the other girls. Sophie was there with her four girls. She turned and smiled to us. "Ladies, this is Anita and Laymee. They'll be working with us now."

I smiled and nodded to them in turn. "Pleased to meet you."

There were two girls sitting on the couch - a mousy brunette and a tall slender blonde with big tits. A voluptuous redhead sat in a high back arm chair and a skinny girl with long black hair and heavy Goth makeup sat next to her.

"This is Melinda," the madam said, gesturing her hand to the mousy brunette. "She's my little baby. I feel very protective of her, so I only allow her to be with very special clients."

"And you save the kinky pricks for us," the Goth chick snorted.

"That's Cleo," Sophie explained. "She likes it rough."

"Pleased ta meet cha," Cleo sniffed apathetically.

"And this is Tiffany," the madam said, indicating the blonde. "She's been with us for six years now. My most experienced girl."

I smiled at the blonde. She had a wild mane of long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and big artificially-enhanced tits. I could tell they were fake because they were too round and firm and perfect. Nothing wrong with that. They still felt the same. Muffy at the club had big basketball tits and loved to have men tittie fuck her huge melons. Maybe that's why she got them so big in the first place. You could drive a goddam Greyhound bus through that sexy girl's cleavage.

"And the redhead is Ruby," Sophie said.

"Appropriately named," Laymee nodded.

"It's not her real name," Cleo scoffed. "Nobody here uses her real name."

"But it's my real hair color," Ruby protested. "All over. Even my pussy. Here, take a look." She spread her legs and hiked her tight black mini skirt to her waist, baring her pantiless muff to us. "See?"

"Very nice," I nodded with approval.

"So what brings you here?" Cleo asked.

Laymee crossed to her and sat in a chair beside her. "We're both raving nymphomaniacs," she explained. "We fuck guys, girls, trannys, you name it." She leaned back and crossed her long sexy legs at the knees. "Anita and I have been busted for soliciting so many times, we're lucky we're not in the slammer right now." She smiled sweetly at me. "We figured we could join you girls for a while to help curb our insatiable lustful appetites."

Cleo expelled her breath in a guffaw. "You are so full of shit!"

Laymee gave the woman a condescending smile. "I once fucked a man to death."

The girls all laughed, but then stopped when they noticed we weren't laughing with them. Cleo looked at me and I nodded soberly. "No fucking lie."

The Goth chick whistled low. "Damn, girl."

"But I'm not into kinky shit like you are, my dear," she sighed apathetically. "I merely have a process of draining every last ounce of fluid from their bodies... just like a spider. Yep, that's me... the Asian fucking black widow."