The Pact: A Master PC Tale
Chapter 27: The Crime Scene

Copyright© 2013 by Rainmaker

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 27: The Crime Scene - A Master PC story, and the trials and errors of responsibility. And a teenage ballet school.

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Ma/mt   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Mind Control   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   TransGender   Fiction   Celebrity   Slut Wife   Wimp Husband   Incest   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Fisting   Squirting   Lactation  

Mickey McKinnon enjoyed coming to work these days. Even days like this.

He and his new partner, fledgling detective Melissa Turnbull, arrived at the Ruth’s Chris less than an hour after the bodies were discovered in the supply closet. Seeing the broken neck was bad enough, but seeing his buddy’s distended neck with a large vodka bottle jammed down his neck was almost too much for his young partner.

“Jesus, Mickey! That’s about the sickest, strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said in a hushed voice as they stepped outside the closet. She was a long-legged, shapely brunette; no practical women’s suit could disguise that. In fact, it was all too apparent to the men of her precinct that she’d gotten a boob job after earning her position through hard work and a single-minded dedication to the rule of law.

Had they only known that her partner had given them to her the day he met her – along with an acceptance that she’d always looked that way. She was also unaware that she unbuttoned one more button on her blouse whenever she was outside the precinct.

“Somebody was angry, no mistaking that,” Mickey said, jotting down a few things in his notebook. “I gather we have a very grateful victim in the manager’s office.”

Mickey and Melissa stepped into the office to find a semi-nude and seemingly very distraught Martha Williams sitting on a big couch trying to stay warm in what Melissa thought was an old woman’s slip and stockings – not something this 20-something hottie would wear.

“Where’s your dress?” she asked the senior cop, sitting down directly across from the girl.

“Tore it off me in the closet,” she said, shivering noticeably.

“Detective, would you give her you jacket?” he commanded his partner in a way few would notice. Melissa complied without complaint; it was what she always did. Martha accepted it appreciatively as Melissa laid it over her shoulders. She also began to relax as the detective began massaging her shoulders.

Melissa laid out the story just as I’d directed her, but she was not one of the Master PC protected, and once Mickey got a hint that her story didn’t jibe with the facts, he employed his new TruthTell trigger word. I knew this because my cell phone activated any time someone wanted to use the Master PC program.

“TruthTell Miss Williams – what really happened?” Mickey asked.

Mickey thought she looked relieved.

“The truth is, I’m 66 years old, and somehow I changed and this young girl who was badly hurt needed a dress,” she said as if recounting a movie plot. “Those two men would have killed her if that young gentleman hadn’t stopped them, I’m sure.”

“Did you see what happened?” Mickey asked.

“No. I saw them grab her and drag her out,” she said. “They came in here like they belonged here.”

“Detective, go down on Miss Williams and give her a proper orgasm,” Mickey said to his partner. “We need to welcome her back to youth.”

“No problem, detective,” Melissa said, kneeling in front of the attractive, but confused, woman. “Don’t worry, Miss Williams. I’m very good.”

The last thing Mickey heard as the door closed behind him was a very distinct slurp.

“Give them some privacy,” he told the restaurant manager. “She’s had hard day. You and I can check the restrooms ourselves.”

Mickey and the manager found nothing in the ladies’ room, but as they checked the stalls in the men’s room, a bolted stall at the end of the row contained someone who was moaning softly. Mickey silently gestured for the manager to get his partner; she showed up a moment later buttoning her blouse. He pointed at the stall when another moan came from it.

Using a credit card to flip the latch, Mickey swung the door open to reveal a Ruth’s Chris waiter flogging what struck him as an excessively large cock. He froze at the intrusion; each eyed the other for a silent moment, then he began whacking away again.

“He one of yours?” Mickey asked the manager.

“That’d be Doug,” the manager said.

“That explains the name tag,” Melissa said.

“Surprised you saw it with that large cock waving around.” Mickey said.

 
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