Disclaimer: The author does not condone nor encourage forced sex. 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 Four
"A re-enactment? Are you fucking crazy!" Michele Bouvier hissed into her phone.
"Look, I know it's a big ask; but we have nothing to go on. Forensics is not giving us anything but maybe we can use a re-enactment to establish this guy's MO. What we record during the re-enactment may help convict this guy when we finally arrest him; a pattern of behaviour will add greatly to any circumstantial evidence we might gather," Mike pleaded.
"But it won't be shown on TV, not on Crime Stoppers or such; it will be anonymous?" Michele asked.
"The only people who will see the re-enactment will be a Grand Jury and the jury hearing the case against your attacker in a closed court Mrs Bouvier," Mike encouraged her.
"What would you want me to do?" Michele asked.
"Simply retrace your movements on the night of the crime; we would ask that you dress the same, act the same, and retrace your steps to the best of your ability," Mike answered.
"Just as far as the workshop; I couldn't do more than that, I couldn't go inside," Michele said.
"Myself and my partner, Sergeant Munner, will be there with you all the way. Nothing will happen to you," Mike explained.
"Ok I'll do it!" Michele replied, she was apprehensive but would do anything to help the police catch the man who had assaulted her.
Mike went on to explain the details of the re-enactment.
The day before, Mike had gone to great lengths to convince his partner that a re-enactment of the crime might help. It was all part of a very dangerous plan he was hatching but the Bouvier women had him entranced and he had thought long and hard about what he was going to do them. This part of his plan was intrinsic to his overall goal of fucking the two Bouvier women at the same time.
"Janine; we have no forensics that are working for us! Probably only half of his victims have reported the crime and their testimony is shaky because most of them won't go into great detail; but certain elements of the crime link this guy as the Pantyhose Stalker! Mrs Bouvier has been very honest with us about what her attacker did to her and that establishes a pattern. If we get this guy, his MO will link him to all the reported assaults so far!" he pleaded.
"It's a long shot but if the Bouvier woman will go along with it I'll endorse it. It will have to be a small team, just you me with a video and audio setup, and I can't be out at the re-enactment much after nine o'clock because I have a previous appointment," Sargent Janine Munner explained to her junior partner.
'Probably a carpet-muncher party,' Mike thought.
"If I can convince her to do it, is it worth the effort?" Mike wanted to ensure his partner was complicite should something go wrong.
"Sure; give her a call and see if she'll play ball; you seem to have developed a rapport with the woman," Janine said and went back to perusing the pile of thick files on her desk.
And so Mike had called Michele Bouvier and requested she participate in a re-enactment of the night he had assaulted her. His cock was rock hard throughout the telephone call, especially when he had gone into the details of what was expected of her. And so two nights later, he and Janine Munner sat in a railway carriage watching Michele Bouvier as she travelled home. They were filming her on a small digital camera and Mike was carrying his small digital voice recorder. He had taken a Viagra an hour ago and was rock hard inside his suit trousers.
As per Mike's instructions she had dressed in similar clothes to the outfit she had worn the night she had been assaulted. She was wearing a grey pinstriped business suit, skirt and jacket combination. She wore a dark green satin blouse, black high-heeled sandals and expensive taupe control-top pantyhose. She was sophisticatedly accessorised with gold jewellery, earings and watch, red-painted fingernails and toenails and wore plenty of makeup.
Her clothes were a tight fit on her large frame. Her breasts pushed against her blouse and jacket, and her skirt clung to her thighs; her skirt had ridden up her legs and the darker welts of her control-top pantyhose peeked below the hem. Her nylons were expensive, and the sheer lycra-nylon shimmered in the bright lights of the railway carriage; Mike's cock pulsed as he stared at her legs.
Michele Bouvier had her notebook computer open, just as she had on that fateful evening; but her mind was elsewhere. She hadn't realised the re-enactment would effect her emotions this much. She was reliving that fateful evening, her breathing was ragged, her mind racing with conflicting emotions of fear, shame, anger and lust. Yes lust! She couldn't lie to herself and deny that she hadn't responded to the Stalker's vile ministrations. She was wearing red satin full-cut panties just like she had on the night she was assaulted and a tiny wet patch dampened the crotch. Her vagina was warm and clammy.
She glanced across at Detective Harris and recalled how he had held her in his arms and comforted her when her husband had lost his temper and knocked the coffee from her hands and stormed from the room during their second interview with police. She also recalled how his cock had thickened against her body and how she had kissed him gently on the lips. The wet blotch in her underwear began to spread.
Janine Munner operated the camera but her mind was elsewhere. Her life-partner was attending an important cocktail party where she was to be presented with an award. She looked anxiously at her watch. She had to be there at nine-thirty and it was close to nine o'clock now.
One stop away from her station Michele closed down her notebook and dropped it into her new black leather shoulder bag. She looked over at the detectives.
"I stood up here, ready to get off," she explained.
Janine nodded and waved for her to carry on with the re-enactment. Michele stood up and held onto the post next to the door; Mike ogled her just as he had on that fateful evening, his eyes crawled over her body in anticipation.
Michele stepped off the train when it stopped and strode purposely down the almost deserted station, her high-heels clicking and clacking on the bitumen platform, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. She was shaking and tears had formed in her eyes. She willed herself not to cry. She approached the workshop door and then lost control and fell against the wall and began to heave.
"This is it! It happened inside that workshop!" she sobbed.
Janine snapped off the video camera.
"Thank you Mrs Bouvier; you have been very brave. I can guarantee you that if we catch this guy there is a good chance this re-enactment will help convict him," she said agitatedly looking at her watch.
"Look I'm sorry but I have very important appointment; Mike will escort you home; his car is parked in the car park."
Janine stroked Michele's upper-arm in a comforting manner and then strode purposely away obviously in a hurry. Just as Mike had hoped she would.
"Bitch!" Michele hissed.
"Come; sit down for a bit," he led Michele to a nearby bench.
"She does have a very important gathering to attend; but she could have been a little more subtle," he smiled.
"Are you ok?" he looked into her heavily mascared hazel eyes sympathetically.
"I'm fine, just a little shaken. I didn't realise all these emotions would well up inside me," she replied and offered a shaky smile.
