Talia Devine's POV
Twin Cities, Minnesota
Saturday, October 9, 2021
I pulled into the mostly empty park-and-ride lot in Bloomington just after six, looking for the white panel van. I found it near the back with its engine running, and pulled my Ford Edge into the adjacent spot on the driver's side. Colleen Newberry was trying to talk, so I ran the passenger window down. "Turn it off and get out," she said. "Bring the papers, leave your phone and key, then go to the back of my van."
"How will I get back in?"
"Your car has a combo code, right?" It did. I raised the window, turned the car off, dropped my phone and key in the center console, and got out. The sun was low in the sky, maybe a half hour from sunset. I was a little uncomfortable wearing this revealing black cocktail dress with these heels. They were a seldom-used pair of 'come fuck me' pumps in black with four-inch heels I hadn't worn since college.
Tonight's attire was far from my work dress as a homicide detective. Since my instructions said no underwear, I felt even more vulnerable with the short skirt. I pulled it down over my ass as I stood up. The dress had thin straps over the shoulders, a plunging neckline exposing my minimal cleavage, and dipped to just above my ass in the back. It was impossible to wear a bra, and I couldn't bend over without exposing my pussy to the world.
I looked like a hooker and felt like a slut. Still, I was horny and hot with anticipation of tonight's events. I could feel moisture dripping down my thighs as I walked behind my car. My body was hypersensitive, and I shuddered as the cool evening breeze licked at my exposed body. I handed Colleen the papers she'd demanded; a recent STD test, proof I was on birth control, and the filled-out non-disclosure agreement and agreement to Society rules. As directed, these only lacked the signatures that she would witness. I stood by the back doors of the delivery van as Colleen patted me down, then ran a device over my body. "It's not that we don't trust you, but you ARE a cop," she said.
"I'm looking for a killer," I said. "The rest of your operation is legal, provided it remains consensual."
She nodded. "Are you ready to sign the forms so we can get out of here?"
"I have a few questions," I said. I'd looked it over after our last meeting. Draconian wasn't the word. A limited power of attorney would allow them to take over my finances if the Society board determined I'd violated the terms of secrecy. They could drain accounts, sell property, and attach future earnings until I'd paid the two-hundred-thousand-dollar penalty. "How is the amount determined?"
"We set it based on your net worth. For some members, that amount is nothing. We need to make it so large that it will ruin you if you break the agreement."
If it got David cleared, maybe it would be worth it? Two hundred thousand wasn't as big a deal for him. "What if I don't know whether I can release information?"
"Put it in writing to the board, and you'll get an answer. We don't want killers or abusers in our midst either, Talia. Safe, sane, and consensual."
She handed me a pen and set the agreement on the back of the van. My mind wanted to experience a Society party and see if Michael Klinesmith was a member. My gut had a bad feeling about signing my life away. "What happens after I sign?"
"I blindfold you and put you in the van with the food I picked up from the caterer. You'll help the other subs set up for the party, which starts at eight. We like to put the new girls at the entrance. That way, everyone gets a chance to meet them. You'll be working the welcome station by the door."
"Greeting people and taking their coats?"
She laughed. "No, you'll be the complimentary cock cleaner and cunt prepper. You'll kneel naked on a pillow to offer oral sex to all the Dominants who arrive. You're like a handwashing station for cocks and pussies before they enter the sexual buffet in the other rooms. It's a great icebreaker and a chance to showcase your body and talents. Most will give you a taste, and many will allow a new party favor to give them their first orgasm of the night."
My insides clenched at the thought. "How many guests are we talking about?"
"Fifty to a hundred dominants arriving during the evening, plus any subs they let use you as time allows," she replied. "You're going to look like a glazed donut by the time the auction starts. The first ones to make them cum get the biggest loads of the night. I felt like the dirtiest little slut ever by the end of my first night. It was magical."
My pussy clenched hard as I imagined it, and I nearly came at the thought of being used like that in front of strangers. Oh, god! Could I do this? Did I want this? I trusted David, but could I trust them? Was I willing to be a bukkake queen for the chance of finding a killer?
There had to be a better way.
Then I thought of David and the relationship I thought I had with him. What would he think of me doing this? Would he appreciate my drive to find the killer, or would he think I was a skank and a whore? What about my job? My reputation? If this ever got out, I'd never be a cop again.
My hand was shaking as I held the pen over the paper, unable to commit. I heard my cell phone ringing inside my car and set the pen down. The ringtone told me work was calling. "Just a minute," I said. I walked back to my car and answered the call from my partner just before it went to message. "Devine," I said.
"We got him, kid," James Maloney said in his Irish brogue.
"The serial killer?"
"Yeah. It was Michael Klinesmith all along."
My head was spinning; I'd hoped to find Michael at the party. Good thing I didn't sign! "How did we catch him?"
"He committed suicide. He jumped from his tenth-floor balcony at three-thirty this afternoon. When we entered his condo, we found a suicide note confessing to the Allison Decker killing. On top of the note were three pieces of jewelry. The ring from Doctor Ibanez was engraved, so it's a direct link. The other two are off for DNA analyses, but we're confident they are from the first two murders."
Holy shit. "Klinesmith killed four people."
"I know. I couldn't imagine it from that guy, but you can never tell what is deep inside them," he said.
"Were we closing in on him? Why would he kill himself now?"
"His note didn't say. We did find the divorce papers his wife served him yesterday, and Minneapolis leaked that the Decker killing might be linked. They were confident they'd find something on the traffic cameras, and it was his first murder. It wasn't well planned like the ones he based on the book, and he probably made mistakes. He may have figured we'd be coming and took the coward's way out."
"Damn," I said. "This case went nowhere I expected."
"You were right about a lot of things, Talia. You made the tie to the Decker case and broke things open." I heard some other people in the background. "A bunch of us are heading to Alary's to celebrate. You should stop by." Alary's was a cop and sports bar on Seventh Street near downtown.
