When Chris's ex-girlfriend asks him for a favour but explains that it's actually an unsuitable job for a man, he cannot turn down the challenge. In any case, a few days by the seaside spent clearing out the effects of her deceased cousin would make a break from the routine of work. But his startling realistic dreams drive him to pursue the mystery of her death, regardless of the challenges it poses. This story is complete, but serialised over six chapters.

Author's note: Apart from obvious place names such as Bournemouth and London, all people, places and events are entirely fictional. Seacombe is a fictitious seaside town on the south coast of England. The story contains adult actions, some of which are naughty, but nice, and others are plain naughty and evil. Don't read it if you're not an adult, or if you may be upset or offended by the content. Apologies to PD James, from whose book I adapted the title, and gained the idea of the plot.

Chapter 2

The rattle of the front door opening made me jump, even though I'd been looking forward to it. The guy who came in from outside was in his early twenties, about five feet, nine inches high, rather thin, with a pasty complexion and a shaved head, and a stud in his nose. He wore a dark-green fisherman's sweater and blue jeans. He looked at me, and a big smile lit up his face.

"Hi Lucy, darling," he said in his Liverpudlian accent, which made him sound just like Paul McCartney. "You look incredibly hot tonight."

"I'm waiting for you, my super stud. I've been thinking about you for so long that I'm all wet down here." I wriggled my hips at him, to show the area of wetness, but I think he'd guessed that already. Unfortunately, the wriggle caused the wine to slop out of my glass and over my hand. I transferred the glass to my other hand and used my tongue to lick first the back of my hand clean, and then, in an incredibly suggestive way, each of my fingers.

He stepped over to me, took the glass from my hand and placed it on the side table. Then he leant over and kissed me. His kiss, as always, was fantastic. His lips were so warm and soft, and then they parted and his tongue was forcing its way into my mouth.

I let myself flop sideward on the settee, so I was lying along it, and he followed me down, so he was almost, but not quite, lying on top of me. My hands slid down his body to the hard bulge that was already trying to push its way out of his trousers.

"Oh Jason," I said, unzipping his trousers and helping to ease out his wonderful prick. "I do love you."

I think I almost did too. Okay, maybe I'd started this relationship purely for what he could bring to it, but I'd got to like him very much. And there was no doubt he knew how to pleasure a girl. My hand gave a few thrusts on his prick, just to spur him on a bit.

"Fucking hell, Lucifer," he said, "you're gorgeous. I've got to have you. Now."

He sharply pulled my dress down my shoulders until my tits burst out, popping off a couple of buttons as he did so. I should have been angry with him because it was one of my favourite dresses and I think he might have torn some of the buttonholes, but I found the experience so incredibly erotic that I almost had an orgasm on the spot.

"Ah, you are so beautiful," he breathed on my tits, and that's when I did have my first mini-orgasm. I had the Sensotouch on my Bustlet turned onto eight, which I'd found was about optimum. I knew from experience that a setting of nine could be incredibly painful if he got too rough.

"I'm going to give you the fucking of your life," he said.

"Yes, please," I said, getting both my feet flat on the floor and thrusting my pussy up towards him. Simultaneously, I pulled up my dress so he could get at me without doing any more damage to it. My panties were expendable; I'd specially chosen them to be so flimsy that they would easily tear off.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Not a gentle tapping on the door; certainly no Mormon missionaries. There was only one group of people who knocked the door like that, making it sound as though they would kick the door down if you didn't answer it.

"Shit! Who's that?" Jason stuttered.

"The Old Bill, of course," I told him, pushing myself to my feet and pulling down my dress, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in it, and button up the top. Damn! The buttonholes really WERE torn. I'd have to get them mended now.

I strode over to the door as the knocking was repeated.

"Okay, okay," I said. "I'm coming.

"At least," I added, purely for Jason's benefit, "I almost was."

I turned the latch, glancing back towards Jason to make certain he was respectable before letting them in.

Except that Jason wasn't there! The room was empty!

Of course it was empty. I was staying here on my own. I'd taken a shower and then put on Lucy's clothes and made myself up to look good. After that, I'd come downstairs and sat down on the settee and drunk too much wine. I must have fallen asleep and been dreaming, and now I'd opened the door to...

I turned my head to look through the open doorway. A policewoman stood there. Shit!

"Sorry to bother you," she said. "I'm PC Sally Wright, and we've been keeping an eye on this place, and I noticed the lights on. Can I ask you who you are, and under whose authority you're here?"

Gulp! I had to say something.

"Yes officer, of course." God knows how I'd managed to produce the voice. I think by creating the sound in my mouth, rather than in my throat and chest, but it sounded all right. "My name is Chris Jones, and my friend Suzanne Richards asked me to come down here and clear the flat, and hand it back to the landlord. There's no problem is there?"

She smiled at me - not a nasty, police-type, cynical smile, which according to the TV, they always give before arresting or baton whipping you - but an open, wide smile, that made her whole face light up.

"Oh no, but in view of what happened, we are obviously still taking an interest. Do you have any documentation with you to prove what you say?"

An instant's panic, and then, "Yes. I brought the emails down with me that I had to show the coroner's office, before they'd release the key."

Thank God I'd brought my laptop case in from the car, into which I'd stuffed a printout of the emails. And for once, I also thanked God that my name was Chris, and not Bob or John or Jason. At school, I'd been nicknamed Christine, but at last, my ambiguous name had turned out to have some benefit.

I got out the email and showed her. She gave me another smile to show she was satisfied.

"Thank you very much, Chris. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." She paused for a second before adding, "That's one of Lucy's dresses, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Yes, officer. Suzanne said I could take anything I wanted, so I thought I'd try it on."

"Please call me Sally, and I wasn't trying to suggest you were stealing it. It's that it really suits you." Her glance dipped to my bust line, before returning to my eyes. "Of course, you have the figure to fill it properly, rather than having to pad it out, as Lucy did. It fits you really well, and you look very good in it."

"Thank you, Sally," I said, and I gave her a nice smile.

"I suppose..." Sally said.

"Yes?"

"No, that's silly. I can sense you are one of those women who really like men." She gave a little smile. "I'm the other way, myself, but that's life. I'll leave you now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I said, watching her walk down the path to the gate onto the road, where her police car was parked. I closed the door on her, and then punched the air in exuberance.

"Yes!" I gasped, in my little girl voice. I had fooled her. I went over to the settee, poured some more wine into the glass, slumped down on the settee and spread my legs wide, making my skirt ride up my legs, and exposing my panties.

I giggled. So, lesbian PC Sally Wright had not only been taken in by my makeover, she had fancied me enough to almost ask me out. Only she could sense I was 'one of those women who really like men'. Where had she got that from? I had another giggle, and then took a large gulp of wine.

***

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Well, at least I knew who knocked in that fashion.

"The Old Bill, of course," I said, pushing myself to my feet and pulling down my dress, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in it, and button up the top, made all the more difficult by the torn buttonholes.

I strode over to the door as the knocking was repeated.

"Okay, okay," I said. "I'm coming.

"At least," I added, "I almost was."

I turned the latch, glancing back at the room. Jason was zipping up his fly over his huge bulge. He gave me a leer, and mouthed, "You just wait."

I would too. I turned my head to look through the doorway. Shit! There was a gun pointing at me!

In fact, there were two men standing there, pointing guns at me.

Before I had time to even think about shutting the door in their faces, they were marching through it, one stuffing his gun into my stomach, the other pointing his directly at Jason.

"Ed. Barry. What are you doing here?" Jason sounded very nervous, and, surprise, surprise, his erection had completely disappeared.

"On the floor. Both of you." The taller of the two, an evil-looking bastard spoke with a Dorset accent. Of course! Jason had spoken about a couple of hard nuts that he'd known in Bournemouth - Ed Little and Barry Tool. No one ever called them by their surnames, in case they thought you were taking the piss!

Both men gesticulated with their guns, and Jason and I did as they said. As I got down, my mind was working overtime. Jason was frightened, which probably meant he was going to get a slapping. I had to make certain they didn't do the same to me. Well, there was one way of making certain of that, and after all, I was still feeling bloody randy after my foreplay with Jason.

As I got down onto my hands and knees, I pushed my bum in the air, so that my dress rode up and exposed my little panties.

"Fucking hell, Ed! Look at the arse on that," the shorter of the two men, the one who had been covering me, spoke. He, I reasoned, must be Barry Tool. I hoped he had the equipment to match his name.

"Shut your face. Cover them, whilst I tie them up," Ed said. "Both of you, flat on the ground, and put your hands behind your backs. Any funny business, and Barry gives you another arse-hole."

He flicked the safety on his own gun and thrust it into his pocket, and followed that with such a tremendous coughing fit I was pleased he'd managed to put his gun away in time.

With Kung Fu training, we might have leapt up at that moment, kicked the gun out of Barry's hand, and then swiftly dealt with Ed. Instead, both of us lay flat on the floor and kept our hands behind our backs until Ed had recovered.

Lying in that kind of position limits your view, but it didn't take much to work out that Ed fastened our wrists behind our backs with those plastic ties. Once pulled tight, they are impossible to get off without cutting them with a sharp knife, preferably wielded by someone else. I had a feeling we weren't going to be given that opportunity.

Time to put Plan A into action.

"Please," I whimpered, struggling to turn over, and incidentally managing to let my left breast topple out of the torn front of my dress, "they're very tight. Couldn't you loosen them a bit?"

"I think I could." Now we were both tied up, Barry also put away his gun, and he knelt down astride my torso, slipped his left hand inside my dress to squeeze my right breast. With his right hand, he viciously tore open the dress, almost down to the waist.

Jesus! That was erotic. I almost had another instant climax. I have to say that I found being tied up was an unbelievable turn-on. I'd thought about trying it in the past, but you've got to have a lover you can put a lot of trust in, and I'd never been in that position. Now it was being forced on me, I could hardly wait until one - or preferably both - of the buggers raped me.

"Leave her alone."

Ah, Jason had responded at last. It was a pity that he sounded such a wimp, terrified in case they told him that little boys should be seen and not heard. Both Ed and Barry turned to stare at him, and I managed to give Jason a wink without them noticing, to try and calm him down a little. Provided things didn't get out of hand, we could talk our way out of this, come to some kind of agreement. But only, of course, after they had both shagged me something rotten.

"Have you got a problem?" Barry asked, standing up, and walking over to where Jason lay on the ground. We all heard Jason gulp, as he tried to swallow.

"She's my wife," he said.

Well, at least he was keeping up the pretence, I thought.

"Well, we're all going up to the bedroom now," Barry said. "And I'm going to fuck your wife, and you are going to watch me do it. And if you raise one word of fucking objection, I'm going to cut off your balls and make you eat them. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No," he said, in a quiet voice.

No heroics there, I thought. Good job that I don't mind.

Mind? Hell, I was getting so horny at the thought of being shagged by these two baboons that I was on the verge of climax. Normally at this point, I'd have been fingering my clit to bring relief, but with my hands behind my back, there was absolutely nothing I could do. Sweet ecstasy.

Barry turned round and bent over and grabbed me around the shoulders, and lifted me to my feet. He must have been pretty powerful to do that, since I'm no lightweight with my Bustlet and Hiplet on, but he hardly seemed to struggle. As for Jason, Ed simply grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled. A few buttons came off, but no worse than what Jason had done to me earlier, so I didn't think he could complain.

So, we proceeded up the stairs, which goes straight into the bedroom, and Barry pushed me towards the bed, and twisted me at the same time, so that I fell onto it on my side. He grasped one of my ankles and lifted, and then grasped the other ankle, so he was standing between my legs.

"Oh please don't do anything," I whimpered. (I thought that would add to the excitement.)

Barry had pushed himself between my legs, and was pulling down his trousers and underpants. Lying on my back with my arms tied behind me, it was bloody uncomfortable, but it did mean my head was elevated slightly, so I could see his prick leap into view. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed by it. It was far shorter and thinner than Jason's, but in that kind of bargaining position, you don't have to be totally honest.

"Oh God! You can't put that inside me. It's evil. Please! No!"

"Condom," Ed said.

"Fuck off, I'm going to make her pregnant," Barry said.

"No, please," I sobbed. (Although the makers of my Hiplet ought to sob more, because I'd sue the bastards if he did.)

"And leave your semen inside her cunt?" Ed said. "Grow up. Fuck her if you want, but use a condom."

Fortunately, Barry was still wearing his jacket, and he had a condom in his inside pocket. Thirty seconds later, he was slamming his prick inside me. It may have been smaller than Jason's, but it was still a very nice feeling. But then, I never could resist a nice prick - even less could I resist a nasty one!

"No! No! No!" I moaned.

There was no finesse about Barry, but to be truthful, finesse was the last thing I wanted at that moment. I was tied up; I was being raped by a gunman in front of my boyfriend. All I wanted was to have a bloody great orgasm.

"Please stop it!" I groaned.

Suddenly, I knew I was going to achieve it. I felt my body responding to his thrusts. I wrapped my feet around Barry, and dug my heels into his inner thighs, to give him a bit of extra leverage.

"Fucking hell! Your wife's enjoying it, Jason. Just look at the bitch on heat. She can't get enough."

"No, he's horrible. His thing is so big. He's hurting... Ah! Oh God! Oh yes! Yes! YES! Y-E-E-E-E-S-S-S!" I squeezed my eyes tight shut as the wave came over me, and then I could feel Barry squirting his load. What a shame he had on a condom. I always like to play with semen afterwards, and there appeared to be an awful lot there.

"No!" I heard Jason shout.

Bloody hell, I thought, don't tell me Jason has found his balls at last. I only hoped that Barry didn't go looking for them as soon as he'd finished with me - I had grown rather fond of them, after all.

Just then, Ed pushed a pillow over my head, and that was followed by a massive explosion of pain as the bullet passed through my head.