Mystery of the White Hair

Quick disclosures:

This story is not a quickie; there is early action, but it's short and there's a lot of character development and story until the next one.

Many of these story elements were influenced by modern hentai, though not some of the more extreme examples. I was also somewhat inspired by PervOtaku's "Interview with the Tentacle Demon" series.

For my followers/fans

This story/series has nothing to do with my "Spa Game" series and is very different in tone and content. That series was basically realistic and fairly vanilla, this series has more fantastic elements and an overall darker tone.

Hopefully you all will enjoy it.

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Evelyn Riley walked into the party with Ben in tow, literally; she had her hand around his wrist and he was obviously reluctant to enter.

"It's a frat party, Ben," she insisted, "We can just mingle a bit."

"I still think this is stupid, Riley" he said.

"Well I've got more than a hunch it's not," she countered, "Split up and work your magic."

Ben rolled his eyes, though she noticed they stopped a bit when they passed her chest. She'd put on a ruby red blouse that she'd been told offset her light skin and blonde hair well, and paired it with stretchy jeans tight enough to show off her figure but still allow her to wear underwear. She wore the blouse loose so it hung over the pants, but she'd also left the top two buttons undone. Combined with one of her best bras, it gave her B-cups quite a boost. Looking at her straight on showed enough cleavage for eyes to linger on, not to mention the shirt covered almost nothing if she bent forward just a little.

She split off from Ben and grabbed a drink from a table. Someone may have had delusions the folding table would act as a bar for the evening, but whoever might have been tending it had long since wandered off. They'd left quite a few Solo cups full of liquid, but based on the condensation they'd been sitting there for a while. Drinking any of them was probably asking to wake up naked and used in a street far away, assuming you woke up at all, but Riley hadn't grabbed it to drink.

She found a bathroom that didn't have anyone puking or fucking and locked the door. She sipped some of the drink into her mouth, swished it around, then spit it out into the sink, but intentionally hit her hand with the spray. Then she wiped her hand off on both sides of her neck before grabbing the cup and leaving.

Now at least she had the smell of a drunk co-ed. The rest was performance.

It didn't take her long to find a desperate but not totally wasted frat boy who barely bothered to look her in the eye and had his hands wandering while she talked to him.

"Jake right?" she partially slurred. He nodded and she leaned in to whisper, "Upstairs is where all the real fun is, right?"

Jake didn't even bother to reply verbally, he just grinned excitedly and dragged her to the nearest set of stairs much as she'd pulled Ben into the house earlier. After getting her ahead of him on the stairs, his hands spent most of the time half-pushing and half groping her ass as they ascended, though when they got to the top his hands slid smoothly up and under her shirt on their way to her breasts. Unfortunately for him, his fingers caught on the other reason she'd chosen a longer shirt.

"The fuck?" he asked, stepping back.

"Sorry Jake," Riley said, unclipping the detective badge his fingers had brushed, "I wanted to let you down easy but you were just too damn eager. Now don't yell or panic. I don't care that ninety percent of the house shouldn't be touching alcohol legally, I'm looking for someone."

Despite her reassurance Jake bolted back down the stairs, but a shout distracted Riley from noticing. Turning to a nearby door that looked closed but wasn't latched, she pushed it open slowly. At first she was merely shocked, but then a bit of horror crept in when she realized she'd found the girl she was looking for.

Sandra Miles was an eighteen year old member of her school's dance team, or she had been until a week ago when she'd vanished after going out Friday night. Her parents described her as five one, with a thin, toned, dancer's body, and gorgeous dirty blonde hair that usually fell straight as an arrow, much to the girl's chagrin whenever there was a dance or wedding and she wanted an up-do.

Riley blinked to get her eyes to adjust faster, hoping she was wrong, but the face she'd been studying on the missing person's report now had its eyes closed while the shaft of a penis invaded its mouth, sliding back and forth, slick with saliva.

That she was maintaining a rhythm at all was impressive because the cock she was fellating was only the first. She had one hand bracing on the owner of it, while another reached to her right so she could maintain her grip on a second one. Cock number three belonged to the gentleman lying on the bed, and was furiously pumping up into her pussy. Riley technically couldn't see the shaft entering, but it was either fucking the girl's vagina or rubbing her stomach. She'd say it might be in the girl's ass except for the guy directly behind her, also pumping his rod at a more leisurely pace while keeping a firm grip on her hips.

Riley's initial shock wore off and she was about to storm in and start making arrests but then the Miles girl pulled her mouth off of one cock and started jerking it furiously.

"Yes! Fuck me! Fuck aaaaaaaah!"

The girl's body tensed and Riley realized Sandra was in the middle of an orgasm. It also set off the guy who'd been in her mouth a second ago. White cream spat from the end of the cock directly at her face. Rather than shying away, she turned her face to it and tried to cover herself, finally sucking more from the end when the initial spurts died down. Riley saw her sigh and slouch a bit more and realized the sodomizer had also backed off.

Riley found herself still frozen at the doorframe, mesmerized by the tableau she thought only happened in porn movies. The part of her brain that was still on her job (and not on parts of her she refused to acknowledge were becoming interested in the scene) realized she had a problem. She'd assumed this was an abductee situation, and she'd storm in to the rescue, handing out arrests. Now it seemed Sandra Miles hadn't been abducted at all. At the very least if she had been, her first thought upon escaping was to be the center of a gangbang.

"Hey honey," said the guy who'd only been getting attention from Sandra's hand, "There's plenty of room here and I'm still good."

The two guys who'd just blown their loads looked over and started leering, grabbing their spent members and obviously trying to encourage their biology to recover for a possible new conquest. Riley could still get away with a gung-ho righteous avenger approach but she decided to gamble.

"Guys, I'm with the police," she said, showing her badge, "and...Sandra here's been missing for a week."

"Oh fuck," the standing guy said, "Look she just walked into the party and started slutting it up. She didn't even drink nothing."

Riley automatically bristled at the phrase "slutting it up" but didn't press it. Meanwhile the guy underneath Sandra had been distracted but his brain apparently caught up with the conversation and he heaved Sandra off him. She landed with an indignant shout of, "What the fuck? Get back here you pussy!"

"Shit," the guy said, standing, "She ain't underage or some shit, is she?"

"No, you're all in the clear there," Riley admitted.

"Who's this bitch?" Sandra said, crawling along the bed. Various fluids were dripping down her legs and face onto the bed but she either didn't notice or care.

Riley walked over to her. "Are you all right Sanda-ahmp!"

As soon as Riley got within arm's reach, Sandra's arms lashed out and grabbed her head, pulling her in for a kiss. Riley's mouth was open so Sandra's tongue snaked in and went to work before she could react. Riley immediately tasted what she thought was semen and pushed the girl away.

"Sandra! Stop!" she said.

Sandra responded with a slap. "Fuck off then, cunt! I'm here to get fucked!"

Sandra leapt toward the first guy who'd talked to Riley, but instead of resuming festivities he grabbed her arms and held her. "Sandra, the lady's a cop; people want to talk to you."

"People want to fuck me!" she replied, "If you're not one of them fuck off!"

She tried to struggle out of his grip but he wrapped her up. The guy was built. The frat they were in didn't seem to be an athletic one; Riley'd seen a wide range of body types, although no one truly overweight or unattractive. This frat brother clearly made an effort though, and had defined muscles up and down everywhere Riley could see. The item Sandra'd been holding earlier also had impressive proportions, though they were currently hidden by the girl's struggling body.

She nodded to him and turned to the rest of the boys. Most of them had some amount of sense and had put their pants back on at least, though one of them seemed most of the way to asleep in a chair after his adventure in Sandra's ass. She spoke to the one that looked most alert.

"My partner Ben is downstairs, let him know we found her and it'll be a difficult transport."

An hour later the party had basically been killed despite their attempts to avoid disruption. Sandra turned belligerent and refused to come quietly, so they'd ended up cuffing her and wrapping her in a blanket when she also refused to dress herself. The guy who talked to Sandra first turned out to be Brett Fiorella, the fraternity president, and provided a lot of information.

"We might be in touch if we need more information," Riley told him.

"You have my number," he said, "Feel free to call me for...any reason."

Riley wanted to roll her eyes but something thrilled in her at the invite, obvious though it was.

*************

"You have to pick one or the other," Heidi insisted

Kimberly rolled her eyes, "Really? Don't tell me you don't think bisexuality real; you went out with a guy for a whole month and you said it was hot when he hooked up with a boyfriend."

"God Kimberly I don't mean your life, I mean pick one or the other tonight! I came to the pub for a nice lad to scratch my itch and I know you need my help to find someone, so make a choice! Then I can get to work on my mission."

Kimberly sighed. She wanted to like Heidi; she was the closest thing Kimberly had to a friend at her marketing job. Heidi was all about going out, drinking, and getting laid and Kimberly felt like the girl had been given cheat codes to make it happen. She was taller but not so tall that it was awkward; at five six the girl could still wear dangerous heels and come in shorter than a lot of guys. The heels supported an olive skinned body with nary a blemish and enough curves to entice people of both genders, though as far as Kimberly was aware she only tended to welcome male attention. Her black hair wasn't anything noteworthy, although Heidi had added a few deep green highlights to match her green eyes. The final touch was her British accent; as soon as she opened her mouth it tended to destroy whatever reservations might have been left in guys' minds.

Kimberly was a bit more reserved, and in her mind, not as blessed. She was third generation Japanese, but with only one non-Japanese ancestor, biology supported her heritage. She topped out at five one, had straight black hair, and her eyes and skin tone left no question about where her ancestors grew up. She would have been a perfectly stereotypical Japanese girl but for some freak of genetics that left her with a D-sized chest. On a girl like Heidi, breasts that size would only have enhanced her figure. On Kimberly, they looked almost comically large, resembling some of the more ridiculous anime girls Kimberly saw online. Unfortunately that tended to mean most of the male attention she got was either only because of her chest, or because her chest was on her body, and someone thought they could finally score with an anime girl of their fantasies.

"Come on, lad or lass, let's go, Heidi insisted.

"Does it matter?" Kimberly said, "You're going to grab someone and disappear before I've even picked."

Kimberly rolled her eyes as she saw at least two guys practically staring at Heidi, who hadn't waited for Kimberly's answer. She'd turned around and adopted what Kimberly thought of as Heidi's "open for business" pose: leaning on the bar to look casual, shoulders back so her tits popped, crossed legs to show off their length and tone. Heidi had tried to copy it exactly once; she was short enough that the bar was more level with her shoulders than her elbows, and if she leaned back in anything other than a sports bra, her tits made a run for her armpits.

Kimberly watched to see if any of the people interested in Heidi had friends she might latch on to. When she had the luxury of being picky, she actually preferred the company and bodies of women, but she didn't think of herself as a lesbian; when she was with a man she definitely got turned on, and every so often she found herself craving the feel of a real cock pounding into her in a way no dildo or strap-on experience could quite match. She wasn't there at the moment, but being with Heidi meant most of her prospects would be guys for the evening. Heidi had tried to help her hook up with a chick before, but Heidi's obvious disinterest in women and her desire to fill her own needs had turned that into a failure.

Then again

Kimberly thought as she scanned the crowd,

maybe there's some hope?

Kimberly spotted a woman that truly captivated her. She was trying to think of a word that summed up the woman and the only one she could think of was "striking." She sat in a round booth, and the guys that Heidi was long-distance flirting with stood just to the side of it. She was in the middle of the arc despite having no one else there. Someone was seated on one end of the booth but since they were leaning forward talking to someone else, Kimberly didn't think they were with the woman.

The woman herself sat very straight and seemed tall; her shoulders were above the seat back. She seemed thin, but her shirt wasn't tight so it was tough to tell. The shape of her wrap shirt suggested she had breasts that were slightly more than a handful, but nowhere near Kimberly's size. What Kimberly couldn't get over were her hair and face. Her face was thin and small, with a slim jawline but high, prominent cheek bones and a low forehead. It gave the impression she was scanning the room with intent, as if hunting for someone and not in a friendly way. The other striking thing was the woman's hair. It was straight but completely white and long enough that it reached below the table. The color shocked her because her face seemed young and smooth, though in the bar's lighting and from this distance there could be a few lines hidden by makeup or shadows.

The woman was considering Heidi, though she wasn't making any moves to indicate her interest; she just stared. Kimberly thought Heidi might have been upset by that if her attention wasn't clearly devoted to the two guys.

Then Kimberly got a shock as the woman shifted her gaze. She stared at Kimberly now, and she either saw or thought she saw the woman's eyes consider her whole body slowly from the bottom up. By the time she felt the woman looking her in the eyes, she was flushed. She could feel tingles of sweat and her skin felt hot. She also felt her nipples tightening. The image entered her mind of this woman standing up, marching over to the bar, and forcing Kimberly to her knees before grabbing her head and shoving her pussy in Kimberly's face, demanding to be brought to orgasm.

Kimberly brought her hand up along her business slacks without realizing it, heading for her pussy that was now wetter than before. She looked down to make sure she hadn't actually wet herself, but there was no evidence on her pants.

She looked back at the woman, trying to recapture that thrill somehow, but the woman's gaze had moved on. Kimberly felt a flare of anger. Being ignored was something she was used to. The guys Heidi attracted were rarely interested in her, and half the time if Heidi was drunk she'd tell them Kimberly was a lesbian, firmly killing most guys' interest. But she felt like this woman had somehow led her on.

Real annoyance set in when she saw the woman actually get up and walk toward another girl. The girl in question was objectively fairly plain. She had a cotton dress on that was maybe a little light for the cooler weather, mousey brown hair in a ponytail, and an average to thin body. Kimberly probably would have overlooked her unless she'd been pointed out. The girl didn't seem to be with anyone, so the white-haired woman commanded all of her attention when she came over. Seeing her standing next to the girl confirmed Kimberly's suspicion; the woman was tall, probably about six feet, and her hair stretched down to her waist.

Her shower must be clogged constantly

Kimberly thought at random, knowing how much her own shoulder-length hair forced her to work to prevent minor flooding.

Her annoyance with the woman grew as she charmed the girl in a very short period of time. She guessed it was only fifteen minutes later that the white-haired woman took her arm and led the girl out of the bar, apparently to enjoy one or the other's bed and everything that might happen in it.

Kimberly spun back around to the bar so fast she almost bruised her knee. The woman was obviously a lesbian, or at least bisexual and looking for a female companion for the evening, and somehow Kimberly had been unworthy. She looked over, planning to complain to Heidi, but her coworker had shifted over and was now chatting animatedly with the two guys and had either forgotten or was intentionally ignoring Kimberly. She signaled to the bartender for a harder drink and wondered bitterly if she could steal them away from Heidi by offering to fuck them both at the same time.

**********************************

Two days after locating Sandra Miles, Detective Evelyn Riley went to the city hospital. She had a stern expression, which matched her attitude. She'd wanted to follow up on Ms. Miles' disappearance and was hitting a wall. Miles wasn't under arrest so the hospital wasn't obligated to let her in, and she got that, but as soon as she'd reached out to the family they'd thrown a lawyer in her face, one who'd forbidden all contact and released no statement. Ben had suggested leaking the story to the press and letting public pressure force some sort of statement; he had lost all sympathy for the girl after she tried to bite him while she was removed from the frat house. Riley was still willing to assume the girl might be a victim and didn't want to subject the family to the court of public opinion just yet. She was hoping an in-person visit might encourage them.

She asked to see Sandra Miles, who by all accounts hadn't left the hospital, but to her surprise she was denied information as soon as she said she wasn't a family member. She finally had to pull the "ongoing investigation, person of interest" card before they would even contact the family.

She was disappointed but not surprised when the first non-hospital person to come see her was an older man in a three-piece suit carrying a work bag. Fifty years ago it would have been a briefcase.

"I'm Douglas Fraser, attorney for Ms. Miles. I believe I indicated to you over the phone the family was not permitting contact."

"And I'm telling you that's not going to fly," Riley said. As Fraser started to take a breath, she quickly added, "Look, Mr Fraser, I'm not trying to insinuate anything here, but we have a girl missing for a week who turns up looking fine, apart from being in the middle of a gangbang, but even that seems to have been her choice."