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 Three
Detective Mike Harris lay on his bed masturbating; his cock was encased in the tan pantyhose Nadine Bouvier had discarded after he had assaulted her. He had the gusset of the hose over his head and was inhaling the scent the juices of her cunt had left on the hose. He had one of the legs of her pantyhose pulled tight over his cock. He came and a puddle of white creamy semen oozed through the sheer nylon stretched tightly over his glans. He wiped up the mess and dropped the garment into a drawer on his bedside table.
He showered and dressed ready for work. He worked as a detective in the Sex Crimes unit down at city PD; most cops just referred to the unit as 'Sex'; on TV it was called SVU. The incongruity was that Mike was not only a detective in the sex crimes unit; he was also the Pantyhose Stalker.
It had been over a week since he had assaulted Nadine Bouvier and he had assaulted her mother only a few days before that. He had collected some pretty good trophies from them; a spare key to the Bouvier house, Michele Bouvier's cell phone, and a digital voice recording of Nadine Bouvier propositioning him and then having consensual sex with him. Well it was what she called a panty-pop, which is basically a dry hump. Mike had assaulted her after the panty-pop but had erased the incriminating part of the recording.
Now it was a matter of how best to use the things he had collected form the Bouviers to his advantage. His partner, Sergeant Janine Munner, was giving him a hard time of late because the Pantyhose Stalker case was not getting anywhere. That was mainly due to the fact that they could not identify the Pantyhose Stalker because the usually reliable fingerprint and DNA evidence was bringing them nothing.
"So we have five unsolved sexual assaults; all by the same guy. Same MO, same DNA, same fingerprints, but we can't match them with anything on file," Janine grumbled.
"And if there are five reported sexual assaults then he has committed at least twice that many because statistically less than half of these crimes ever get reported!" she continued.
Janine Munner hated men who forced themselves on women. She hated chauvinistic men for that matter. She was a lipstick-lezzo. A very attractive lipstick-lezzo and she was driving Mike nuts. Not only was she a pain in the ass as a partner; he found her tremendously attractive. The way she dressed drove him wild.
Today she wore a navy-blue pinstriped power suit. The skirt was so tight he was surprised she could walk in it and her jacket strained to contain her tits; it was a wonder the buttons of her blouse didn't pop. She wore a cream satin blouse under the jacket, taupe nylons and black high-heels. Her long blonde hair, usually worn in a single plait or ponytail, was brushed out today. She was wearing heavy makeup, perfume and lots of jewellery. Even her fingernails were painted blood red to match her lipstick.
It was almost as if she dared any of the men on the squad to complain about the way she dressed just so she could lay harassment charges. Most of the cops joked that she would never catch a bad guy dressed like she did; but none of the guys complained; she was the best looking piece of ass on the force.
"You know what Janine; maybe we should have another interview with the Bouvier woman," Mike said.
He was anxious to get a legitimate excuse to go back to the Bouvier house. He wanted to check out a few things there; he had further plans for the Bouvier women!
"I told you Mike, it's a dead end. She's told us everything she's going to," Janine said.
"Hey I tell you what though. I heard she kicked out that no good weasel of a husband. Good for her," Janine said.
"Yeah. Good for her," Mike repeated.
His mind began ticking over. This was a good thing! This fitted right in with his plans!
"You know what; if we don't get any more leads by five o'clock, what say we go for a couple of drinks? My life-partner is away on business and I could do with de-stressing." Janine asked.
Mike was a little taken aback; it was not unusual for partners on the force to go for drinks after work; in fact it was the norm. But Sergeant Janine Munner had never shown the slightest inkling of mixing with him outside of the workplace. This was an interesting turn of events.
Mike and Janine worked the case without progressing any further. Mike was distracted by his partner; she kept unintentionally providing him with tantalising glimpses of her legs and breasts. Her perfume drove him wild and he spent most of the day trying to hide a boner. At one stage Janine was bent over the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet and her skirt rode up high on her thighs. He could make out what he thought were white nylon panties under the sheer gusset of her hose. He moved to the cabinet beside the one she working on so he could look down her blouse and was rewarded with a glimpse of her large firm tits barely contained by the cups of a white lace bra.
"Jesus! You guys are so transparent!" Janine snapped at him when she saw what he was doing.
She looked pointedly at the bulge in his pants and smiled.
"Well; it goes to show I can still get a man excited; even though I'm not interested in what you have to offer. Not that you appear to have much anyway," she sniggered.
Mike blushed with both embarrassment and anger. He would show this bitch what for one day!
She surprised him when later that day she came over to his desk.
"We still on for that drink Mike?"
