Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional and is a segue into the darker part of the human psyche where forced sex fantasises dwell. The author also does not condone non-consensual or physically forced sex, but acknowledges that men and women do have these fantasises. I certainly do; and I sometimes act them out in real life in my female persona when dressed as Michele. In fact as a transvestite I identify more with the female characters in my stories than I do the male. That said, being bisexual, I am turned on by both the male and female characters; and of course my nylon fetish is self-evident.
Part Two
Detective Mike Harris tipped up Michele Bouvier's black leather shoulder bag and spilled out the contents onto the desk in his bedroom. It was now two days since he forced himself Michele Bouvier in the railway station workshop but this was the first chance he had to explore the contents of her bag.
He and detective sergeant Janine Munner had been busy working the Pantyhose Stalker case, waiting for the forensic evidence and poring over the statements they had taken. He knew that nothing would come of it; when they ran the prints and DNA from the crime scene they matched the other prints and DNA from the other Pantyhose Stalker cases but they didn't match anything on file.
Mike had replaced his own fingerprints and DNA in the all of the law enforcement databases with those of an unknown bum who had died long ago, so even if they ran the crime scene forensics through the police databases for elimination purposes they would not be able to match them to him.
Including Michele Bouvier, Mike Harris had taken ten women; but only five of the women had reported the crime. As an SVU specialist Mike knew that only about fifty percent of crimes actually got reported to the police. He was now on a twenty-four hour off-shift rotation so he had some time on his hands.
He opened Michele's notebook computer but as he expected it was password protected. He knew people in the underworld who could easily hack into the computer but the risk of exposing himself was too great. He shut it down and put it aside to be disposed of later. He opened her cell phone and checked her contact list and scrolled through it. He found an entry for Nadine, Michele's daughter, and smiled.
"Now this will come in useful," he said to himself.
Her purse contained some cash and credit cards; he put the cash in his wallet and threw the credit cards onto the bed with the laptop. He rifled through the other compartments of the purse and found a key. It looked like a deadlock key and he guessed it might be a spare key to the Bouvier residence. Would she think to change the locks? Her key ring was not in the bag so maybe she kept her keys in her jacket pocket and she still had them? Maybe she wouldn't remember the spare key in her purse? He placed it beside the mobile phone. The rest of the contents of the bag held no interest for him. He stuffed the computer, the credit cards and the purse back in the shoulder bag.
Mike decided to go out for a drink; he thought better when he was alone in a bar. He went out of his apartment building via the basement car park and threw Michele's shoulder bag into the furnace on the way to his car. He stopped at a local hangout and had a couple of drinks while he planned his next move and then went home and slept soundly. Before he nodded off he masturbated using a pair of pantyhose he had taken from one of his victims. He wished now he had taken Michele Bouvier's; he recalled how she had thrust against him during the sex; how she had enjoyed being fucked by the anonymous assailant.
"We need to speak to the Bouvier woman again," Janine Munner said to him when he arrived at the station the next day.
"I'm still not convinced we got everything from her," she went on.
"Ok with me," Mike replied.
"I'd like to speak to her alone this time; I'd like you to interview the husband and also I'd like to interview the daughter if she's home. Michele might have told them something that she hasn't told us," Janine said as they drove out to the Bouvier house.
Mike smiled. It would be fun to interview the poor sap whose wife he had taken; and if he could get some time alone with that sweet little daughter of hers it might help him consolidate the plans he had for her.
Mike checked out his partner. 'Fucking lipstick lesbians! They all need a good fucking!' he thought.
Today she was wearing a light coloured skirt and jacket combo; the skirt was short enough that he could see right up her long legs. Those long well defined limbs were clad in sheer taupe pantyhose and her feet were shod in beige high-heels. Her makeup was perfect as usual and a miasma of perfume surrounded her. She wore her long blonde hair in a braid. She had big tits too! If she weren't his partner she would definitely be on his victim list!
They were ushered into the Bouvier house but they received a reluctant welcome. Janine explained that they just needed to follow up on some facts and Michele ushered her into the lounge. Michele was once again impeccably dressed in skirt, blouse, hose and heels; her makeup was heavy but discerningly applied. Mike would have fucked her again in a heartbeat. He followed Harold Bouvier into the den.
"I'm sorry to have to do this again Mister Bouvier," he began.
Harold waived dismissively at a chair.
"Let's just get this over with so my family can get on with our lives," he sighed.
Mike sat down and pulled out his notebook; Harold Bouvier continued to pace back and forth.
"I understand the dreadful situation in which your family finds itself but I have to ask you some questions. Your wife may have held back vital information; which is of course understandable given the ordeal she has been through, and the delicacies involved."
"Is there anything that your wife told you in confidence that you think may help us," Mike asked.
"Not really. In the past she has mentioned that some of the guys in the office where she works have come on to her; but surely she would have recognised one of her colleagues if he were the perpetrator. Besides, really? With all that young skirt parading around the office where she works why would one of them go for Michele?"
Mike was taken aback at the callousness of her husband. He obviously didn't have that much respect for his wife and he certainly didn't appreciate her. No wonder she became turned on when she was taken; her husband probably hadn't fucked for quiet some time.
"So there is nothing that you can add that would help our investigation?" Mike went on.
"Well not really. But I just don't understand it," Harold ran his fingers through his hair despondently.
"Understand what Mister Bouvier?"
"Well her hair and makeup were mussed, her skirt was torn and her pantyhose had a hole ripped in them and her ass had a few scratches but she wasn't hurt," Harold said.
"Not all sex perverts beat their victims," Mike explained.
"Yeah; but if she had put up a fight, wouldn't she be battered and bruised? He had her in that workshop for over half an hour; why didn't someone hear her screaming? You heard what she said; she said he took her twice!"
"Jesus! How could she let him?" Harold whined.
'Because she enjoyed being impaled on my long thick cock?' Mike was thinking to himself and suppressed a smile.
"How could she? How could she let that man fuck her! I told her that dressing the way she does, she's asking for it!" Harold was angry now; his voice raised.
"I saw her underwear and her skirt in those plastic evidence bags; they were soaked! The asshole must have come on her; so imagine how much of his stuff she must have had inside of her! Christ!" Harold's disgust was evident.
"Mister Bouvier; he had a knife, your wife probably saved herself from severe injuries by not fighting or resisting the man who attacked her," Mike tried to diffuse the situation and stop Harold from shouting.
"Bullshit! I bet the bitch begged for it! That asshole violated my wife; came all over her and then fucked her! And what did she do? She did nothing! She probably gave him a fucking blowjob!" Harold screeched.
