After his fight with Penelope, Bradley Wilson had gone back to his hotel and had a fitful night’s sleep.

As directed, he put on his best Brooks Brothers navy-blue suit and crisp white shirt. He wore a blue silk tie and highly polished black shoes. He left the hotel at seven o’clock to make the eight o’clock interview.

Even though he was dog-tired he looked good, his toned body filled the suit perfectly and his handsome features, piercing blue eyes and styled collar-length black hair were not lost on Meadow Dupree.

Nor was Meadow’s beauty lost Bradley. She was wearing a short-skirted, powder-blue power-suit. She had a flicked-out blonde bob; her thick, red-lipstick lips were formed into a permanent pout, she had beautiful blue eyes, long legs clad in gossamer nylons, and generously proportioned breasts despite her slim frame.

She flirted openly with him, bending over when she didn’t need to, getting uncomfortably close to him to pin on the lapel microphone, letting her skirt ride up to the very top of her thigh while she sat in her director’s chair waiting for the interview to begin.

Gary Rasmussen was right about her being like a shark with blood in the water. After the interview they sat on a couch in her dressing room and she tried to pump him for more information, off the record.

He hadn’t wanted to be alone with Meadow in her dressing room, it was totally against protocol but he was pissed with Penelope and although childish he saw flirting with Meadow as a way to get back at her.

“Come on Agent Wilson, give me a gem. Just a little titbit; an exclusive to make my story special,” her eyes twinkled and she suggestively sucked on a finger and smiled at him.

“I’ve given you everything I can Ma’am,” Bradley smiled back at her.

“I don’t think you have Agent Wilson,” she leaned against the arm of the couch and extended a long lustrously nyloned leg and put her spike heeled sandal in his lap.

Bradley caressed her ankle; her nylons were soft and ultra-sheer, delicate. His nail snagged the ethereal fabric and a runner raced up her leg.

“Oh my god I’m sorry. Let me pay for those they must be expensive,” Bradley felt like a klutz.

“Wolford Neon. They cost fifty dollars a pair imported from the UK,” Meadow didn’t remove her foot and kept smiling.

Bradley got the gist. She didn’t care. Poor spoiled little rich girl who gets everything she wants, he thought. He continued to caress her ankle and then slid his hand further up her calf.

“Where are you going mister?” she grinned at him but didn’t remove his hand from her leg.

“I figured if I’m going to pay fifty dollars for them, they must be mine to keep,” Bradley grinned back at her.

“What makes you think that?” she put her finger back in her mouth seductively.

“Because I’m going to have to pull them down a little or put a bigger hole in them before I fuck you, so either way I guess I’m paying for them,” his fingers moved past her knee to her thigh.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you,” her voice was thick with lust.

“You didn’t invite me back here and put your foot in my lap to discuss the weather,” his hand slid under her skirt.

Meadow pushed her foot into Bradley’s crotch and rubbed her high heel on his erect penis.

“You’re not wearing panties,” her ultra-sheer pantyhose clung to her smooth shaven mons.

“I never do. Please do not change the subject Agent Wilson,” she leaned forward and opened his flies and extracted his erect penis and then leaned back in her chair.

“Are we discussing the price of British pantyhose or titbits?” Bradley asked.

Meadow gasped suddenly as Bradley stroked her pubis, tracing his finger around her vulva through the diaphanous nylon.

Meadow arched her foot, trapping Bradley’s cock between the inside of her sandal and her sole. She began to lazily slide her foot up and down his shaft.

“You give me a titbit and you can have my pantyhose and everything that’s inside them,” her red-lipsticked lips formed into a lewd leer.

“I think I have everything that’s inside them now,” Bradley slipped his finger inside her vulva and found her labia, the flimsy nylon stretched easily to allow him to do so.

“You expect me to just offer you my virtue Mister Wilson?” the leer transformed into a childish pout.

“No. I’m going to take it,” Bradley smirked back at her.

“But I thought you were one of the good guys?” she squeezed his cock with her foot.

“I am a good guy. That’s why I’m going to give you what you want,” he replied.

“And what is that mister Wilson?” Meadow teased him.

Bradley suddenly leapt up and grabbed Meadow’s ankles and pulled her down on the couch. She lay on her back with her skirt around her waist as he pulled her legs wide apart and knelt between them.

“What are you doing Mister Wilson?” Meadow feigned shock but he could see her juices glistening through the sheer gusset of her hose.

“This,” Bradley lay on top of her and pushed his cock into her groin.

Meadow smelled wonderful and her skin was soft, her hair was silky and smelled of expensive conditioner. Her heavy breasts cushioned him but she was skinny and for a while he was worried he might hurt her. He stopped worrying when she wrapped her legs around him and raised her pretty face to his and opened those full wide lips.

He stabbed at her with his rock-hard cock and it tore through the flimsy crotch of her pantyhose and slid insider her. She put her arms around him and kissed him deeply.

Meadow was surprisingly tight and his cock felt like it was gripped by a velvet sheath. She adjusted herself underneath him so that he was pressing on her clitoris and encouraged him to fuck her, rising up and pushing her pubis against him, grinding against him, gasping into his mouth.

Bradley fucked her hard. Thinking about Penelope as he did so, childishly wishing she could see him fucking the gorgeous news presenter, making her jealous and remorseful.

As was her nature, Meadow was selfish when it came to sex, she made Bradley adjust his position so she could enhance her pleasure, she kissed him passionately, nipping at his lips and tongue with her perfect white teeth.

Bradley pushed Meadow down into the couch and began to fuck her hard, almost viciously. She cried out and locked her legs around him tighter.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she screamed and arched her back and ground against him as she orgasmed.

Bradley fucked her as hard as could and ejaculated inside her; his semen hot and musky. The scent of Meadow’s perfume, his aftershave, his acrid semen, the stench of her juices, mingled and formed a pungent odour.

Bradley lay on top of Meadow gasping and she lay under him panting, her body quivering with little aftershocks.

Bradley extracted himself from her embrace and snatched a box of tissues off her dresser and dabbed at his cock before he put it away and zipped up. He dropped the box of tissues into Meadow’s lap; she still lay on the couch with her legs spread, catching her breath.

He walked to the door and then stopped and turned around.

He rummaged in his wallet and produced a fifty which he also dropped in her lap. She looked up at him amused.

“Buy yourself some new pantyhose.”

“Oh and here’s your titbit,” he said.

Meadow lifted herself on her elbows and looked at him expectantly.

“The butler did it,” he said flippantly and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Meadow’s assistant was waiting patiently outside the dressing room door with a clipboard in her hand. She gave him a knowing look, like it was a regular occurrence.

“She wants to see you right now,” Bradley said offhandedly.

He smiled to himself as he walked down the studio corridor and heard Meadow scream “Get out!” to her unsuspecting assistant.

The afterglow of the grudge fuck soon wore off and he started thinking of Penelope again; hating himself for what he had just done and hoping that Penelope was not doing the same thing.

*****

After the newspaper article and the TV interview on Fox News the leads began to pour into Police Plaza. The Homicide Division had set up a hotline manned by experienced uniformed police officers and civilian office staff. As expected some of the leads were bogus, called in by the usual nuisance callers and perpetual meddlers and most of the other leads were of little use.

Anything that might be useful was forwarded through to syndicate room two where the team beavered away. The Chief of Detectives called by again.

“Great interview Bradley. You look good on camera,” Gary Rasmussen said.

“I did a media course at Quantico a while back; it came in handy,” Bradley looked up from the file he was reading.

“That Meadow Dupree is a piece of work, her knees should have a party and invite her skirt down,” he chuckled.

Penelope looked up from the file she was reading and glared at Gary.

“Did she try to wheedle more information from you? She’s been known to use her assets to do so in the past.”

“Here we go again with the chauvinist tropes,” Silvia Bickle chimed in.

“Not really. We had coffee in her dressing room after the interview but I told her I couldn’t give her any more information,” Bradley said with some finality.

“You didn’t accidently fuck her while you were in there did you? Rumours travel fast in a small city,” Gary studied his fingernails.

“Nah. She’s not my type; too skinny and hedonistic,” Gary replied, but glanced guiltily at Penelope who was purposely not looking at him.

“Yeah… I heard you don’t like ‘em skinny,” Gary said on the way out.

This time it was Penelope’s high heel that crashed into the door.

“Trouble in paradise?” Silvia asked.

She had followed Penelope out to the designated smoking area in the parking lot.

“He says he loves me,” Penelope studied the glowing tip of her cigarette.

“And you guys joke about U-Haul lesbians,” Silvia snickered.

“But seriously; you two seemed to be getting along pretty well. He’s been a good influence on you. You look good, you’re dressing well, you’ve stopped drinking and catting around, and you’ve lost weight,” Silvia touched Penelope on the arm affectionately.

“You think I’ve lost weight?” Penelope grinned.

“All the good things I just said about you and you pounced on the comment that you’ve lost weight. You might have a dick in those drawers Penny but you are all woman,” Silvia chuckled.

“Fuck off Bickle,” Penelope crushed out her cigarette, swiped her entry card and opened the door that led back into Police Plaza.

“Hey Bickle, what’s the leading cause of death among lesbians? Hairballs,” Penelope called over shoulder.

“Fuck off Bishop, we’re both shaved,” Silvia called back.

“TMI Bickle, TMI,” Penelope opened the inner door and headed back to the Detectives Division.

Some of the leads that came into the hotline came from informants who suspected people that they knew in the medical profession who might be the Sleeping Beauty Killer, as everyone was now calling the perpetrator. Silvia and Penelope spent the next few days fruitlessly following up on the leads. All of the doctors, nurses and pharmacists they interviewed had alibis or simply could not be the perpetrator for other legitimate reasons.

“We always figured our guy doesn’t live in Balwyn; that he uses the city as his hunting ground. We’d be better off looking for men employed in the medical profession who are cyclic visitors to the city. Men who come here regularly to attend conferences of offer specialist services on a regular basis,” Bradley mused.

“Maybe we should canvass the hospitals and clinics for their registers and rosters of visiting specialists?” Penelope offered.

She and Bradley had been cordial with each other since their breakup but there was still a lot of tension in the air.

“I’m still buried under a ton of paperwork trying to track down where he got the animal semen,” Silvia whined.

“Look I’ve given you guys every available detective I have. They’re out there wearing out shoe leather following up on the hotline leads so it looks like it’s up to Bishop and Wilson to hit the streets and dig into those registers; see if you can find out what hotels these guys might have stayed in too, there might be a lead or two there,” Gary Rasmussen said.

Gary had been taking heat from the Chief of Police who was taking heat from the Mayor who was taking heat from the Governor. Shit rolls downhill but Gary did a good job shielding his team.

“You start researching the hospitals and I’ll start on the clinics. When we have anything of use we’ll hit the streets and try to narrow down any leads,” Penelope said to Bradley.

Bradley nodded and started hitting the keys on his laptop.

*****

Michael Kendal had a dilemma. Now that Felicity knew that he was the Sleeping Beauty Killer she was both an asset and a liability. She liked him injecting and immobilising her and for a while it had slaked his thirst but it just wasn’t the same. He could see the lust in Felicity’s eyes when he fucked her while she was paralysed but it wasn’t lust that he craved, it was terror.

Also he didn’t get the essential delight and satisfaction of the hunt and ultimate gratification of killing his victims. Michael was still addicted to crossdressing which he still secretly practiced but it didn’t give him the same thrill as acting out the part of victims.

For a while he considered bringing Felicity along when he next went hunting, he could use her to lure the selected victim into his web, a woman would not be expecting another woman to harm her. But he discarded the idea as too dangerous.

He accompanied his family to church on Sunday as the next day he would be back on the road. He didn’t pay attention to the sermon instead he daydreamed about what he was going to do to his next quarry. As they were leaving the church he saw his eldest daughter Rebecca talking to a boy.

Michael studied Rebecca. She was turning eighteen soon but she was still naïve and childlike. He and Felicity kept strict control over their daughters, regulating every aspect of their lives.

Rebecca being the eldest had been granted a few stipends. She was wearing an A-line skirt a few inches above her knees, it was still very girly, red with a big bow in front, but she was showing some leg. She was allowed to wear pantyhose and her long legs shimmered in the weak winter sun. She was wearing a white blouse with puffy sleeves and her breasts swelled the front of it. Felicity allowed Rebecca to wear a little makeup and she was pretty, she self-consciously scuffed her black Mary-Jane's while she flirted with the boy.

“Go and get our daughter away from that boy!” Michael growled at his wife.

Felicity stormed over and pulled her daughter away from the young man who beat feet when he saw Michael Kendal glaring at him.

The girls were going to a birthday party after church and Felicity threatened to stop them doing so if they didn’t behave themselves. It was an empty threat really because she was already moist in anticipation of spending the afternoon with Michael inside her.

“Are you keeping my girls safe?” Michael was grumpy when they got in the car to drive home.

“Yes honey; I had them checked only last week,” Felicity replied.

At their parents behest, the Kendal’s family doctor checked that the girls hymens were intact during their medical check-ups. Michael and Felicity had full access to their daughter’s laptops, tablets and mobile phones and regularly checked their online activity, phone calls and texts.

Michael was well aware that he would have to give up his daughters eventually when they married but while they were living under his roof they lived under his rules.

Strangely enough, because the girls had been raised under strict parental control they didn’t really mind. Their parents were loving and generous and the girls adored their father and were very respectful.

That afternoon as Felicity lay under him dressed in her sexy lingerie, heels and slut makeup and he pounded away at her prone body, Michael’s thoughts kept drifting to the image of his teenage daughter dressed in her A-line skirt with her long legs and pretty face.

*****

Bradley and Penelope did the rounds of city’s medical facilities, flashing their badges and asking questions about visiting doctors and specialists whose presence in Balwyn overlapped or coincided with the dates of the murders. Some were alibied by their sponsoring facility, the persons concerned were working, attending conferences, meeting or attending social events during the time of the murders but they were still left with a shortlist of persons of interest to track down.

Bradley tried to be as bright and breezy as he could but Penelope was grouchy and uncommunicative.

“We can’t keep going like this Penelope. I’ll make the same offer to you that I made when we first met. If you don’t want me here I’ll go back to San Antonio and the Field Office can send another Agent,” Bradley said, finally exhausted with her attitude.

“You know we can’t do that. You’re too involved, you know too much about the case. Having someone come in cold would be counterproductive,” Penelope snapped back at him.

“Look. I can’t make myself un-love you but we can at least act life professionals,” Bradley said.

“Well I can’t make myself forget what you said either,” Penelope sighed.

She checked her watch.

“Anyway it’s quitting time. You can drop me off here on the corner. We’ll work those other leads tomorrow,” she pointed to a corner across the street from The Longhorn bar.

Bradley got a phone call at eleven that night, rousing him from his sleep. It was Silvia.

“You told Penelope that you loved her right?”

“Yes… what? Why are you ringing me at nearly midnight to ask that?” Bradley was tired and confused.

“Well if you do love her, get your ass down to the Longhorn. I can’t go because I’d be duty bound to report what I see to the Chief of Detectives and if what my snoopy bartender friend tells me is true, she’s steering headlong into trouble.”

“Whatever you decide to do, we never had this conversation,” Silvia broke the connection.

Bradley arrived at the Longhorn to find the place in full swing. Texas country was wailing from the jukebox and the crowd, mostly off duty cops, were drunk and rowdy. Bradley couldn’t see Penelope so he forced his way to the bar. Jimmy, who had been Penelope’s regular bartender, broke away from the crowd around the beer taps and waved to Bradley.

“Did Silvia send you?” he shouted over the din.

Bradley nodded.

“She went out back with that asshole Mitch O’Donnell. I cut her off because she’s falling down drunk but she refused to go home. Mitch got a six pack from one of my less intelligent bartenders and enticed her outside with it,” Jimmy said.

“If she ever gets sober, you tell her she’s banned from here for a month,” Jimmy turned and went back to his thirsty patrons.

Bradley went down the corridor past the men's and ladies restrooms, and past a stack of empty beer kegs. A patron had a girl in the corner and they were going at it pretty heavy, kissing and groping each other. The girl wasn’t tall enough to be Penelope and she didn’t have blonde hair so he knew it wasn’t her. He kept walking and came to the exit to the rear car park.

The car park was gloomy, lit by two yellow sodium vapour lights. He heard a commotion coming from over near a pickup at the back of the car park and made his way over.

“Please Mitch, I wanna go home,” he heard a woman drawl drunkenly.

“This won’t take long princess then I’ll take you home,” he heard a man say.

“I feel sick, I think I’m gonna puke,” the woman whined, slurring her words.

“I told you princess, just keep still and let me finish and you can go anywhere you want,” the man hissed impatiently.

Bradley rounded the pickup and saw Penelope sprawled against the back of truck. There was a man behind her with his pants down, trying to hold Penelope’s skirt up out of the way whilst trying to keep her from falling over while he jabbed at her buttocks with his hard cock.

Penelope’s panties and pantyhose were bunched around her knees and she looked befuddled and stupefied, almost senselessly drunk. She was swaying and the man kicked her feet further apart.

“Fucking stay upright you bitch!” the man grunted as he tried in vain to penetrate her.

Bradley walked up and hit the man with a roundhouse punch and heard a crack as the man’s jaw broke. The man fell to the ground unconscious and Penelope fell to her knees beside him and began to puke.

She lifted her head and looked at Bradley, ropes of vomit stuck to her hair.

“Whatdya do that for?” she looked at him through unfocussed eyes and promptly passed out.

Penelope woke up late the next day feeling she’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight prize-fighter and lost. She was in a strange bed and it took her a while for her to get her bearings and then she realised that she was in Bradley Wilson’s hotel room.

“Shithouse mouse!” she hissed.

She tentatively looked under the bedclothes and saw that she was dressed in a pair of men’s briefs. She was wearing a clean white shirt, one of Bradley’s, and her hair smelled of shampoo.

Penelope tried to remember what had happened last night and couldn’t remember anything after entering the Longhorn. She looked around the room but couldn’t see any of her own clothing, and then she heard the door to the hotel suite open and Bradley’s footsteps approaching.

Bradley Wilson stopped in the doorway and leaned against the jamb. He was holding a garment bag which he held up so she could see it.

“I took the liberty of taking your keys and going round to your place to get you a change of clothes.”

“Was I an asshole?” she looked at him sheepishly.

“You were passed out at first then you came too in the car and called me some names I’ve never heard before… and I was a Marine! Then you tried to hit me and missed, but you managed to throw up in my lap, other than that you were a lady,” Bradley grinned.

Penelope grimaced.

Bradley entered the bedroom and put the garment bag on the couch, unzipped it and took out one of Penelope’s suits which he hung on the back of the door.

“I don’t know why you brought me a suit. I don’t have a job to go to,” Penelope sighed.

“I called the Chief of Detectives and told him that we were leaving early to drive to Austin to re-interview Kimberley Morris. You’re off the hook for two days,” Bradley went out into the small kitchen-diner.

He had moved into a self-contained apartment on one of the hotel’s upper floors when he realised that he would be staying in Balwyn indefinitely.

Penelope bowed her head and said a silent prayer.

Bradley came back in with two steaming cups of coffee and offered her one.

Penelope sat up in bed, took the coffee and took a sip and sighed.

“Silvia?” Penelope cringed.

“Said to tell you that are no longer going to her bridesmaid and that you are getting nothing for Christmas. Other than that she is just glad you are safe,” he took a sip of his coffee.

“Safe? How bad was I?” Penelope took another sip and then put her cup down on the bedside table.

“You don’t remember?” Bradley couldn’t help smiling.

“What?” Penelope squeezed his wrist.

“Mitch O’Donnell was trying to do ungentlemanly things to you out back in the car park,” Bradley took another sip.

Penelope winced. Some of what had happened began to filter through the haze.

“That asshole!” Penelope hissed.

“I don’t know who was drunker, you or him. I’ll leave you to shower and dress. We’ll have to go to Austin now so our story holds up. It’s ok though, I wouldn’t mind bouncing a few ideas off Detective Patton,” Bradley got up off the bed and closed the door behind him when he left the room.

Penelope got out of bed gingerly and walked over the dresser. Her handbag, purse and mobile phone were laid out on top and she thanked whoever the god was who looked after drunks. She foraged through the garment bag and found clean underwear, a pair of black low heels, two packages of pantyhose and her travelling cosmetics and toiletry kit.

She climbed back into bed and called Silvia on her phone.

Penelope came out of the bedroom looking remarkably well. Bradley was sitting on the couch, case files spread out on the coffee table in front of him.

Penelope sat down beside him, leaned in and softly kissed his check.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“What for?” Bradley remained staring down at the paperwork on the table.

“For everything. I know that you put yourself out there for me and risked getting into trouble yourself,” she replied.

“It’s what you do when you love someone,” Bradley said quietly.

“Even if they don’t deserve it?” Penelope said just as softly.

Bradley turned to face her and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“If you love someone, they deserve everything you can give them.”

Penelope leaned in to kiss him and Bradley turned away.

“Don’t Penelope. It hurts more when the person you love doesn’t love you back. It’s bad enough seeing you every day, longing for you, needing you, but knowing that even if you were to rekindle our relationship my love for you would not be reciprocated.”

“But you deserve everything I can give you,” Penelope took his hand in hers.

He turned to face her again.

“Because I do love you. I’ve spent all this time trying to deny my love for you because I’m afraid I’ll lose you, just like I lost my husband,” she searched his eyes.

This time when she leaned in to kiss him he let her. Then he returned the kiss and took her in his arms. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity and when they broke the kiss they looked at each other sheepishly, like teenagers on their first date.

“Did you really break Mitch O’Donnell’s jaw?” she smiled at him.

“He was messing with my girl,” he smiled back.

They had no time to fool around because they needed to get to Austin but when they checked into their hotel suite they didn’t wait to unpack before they leapt onto the bed, Bradley naked and Penelope in her underwear and heels. For a minute or two Bradley felt guilty about fucking Meadow Dupree but it didn’t last long.

They kissed and canoodled for a bit, getting each other hard and stroking each other’s cocks. When they were both fully tumescent they lay head to toe and went to work sucking, licking and tonguing each other’s cocks.

Penelope worked her lips up and down Bradley’s shaft, using her tongue on his glans, even nipping him gently and Bradley sucked on Penelope’s cock, doing a thing with his tongue that felt like a thousand butterflies tickling her fraenulum.

“Mmm, you are so good at that,” Penelope sighed.

“You’re pretty good yourself but I want to kiss you,” Bradley spat out Penelope’s cock.

“Ok, come here cry baby,” she rolled onto her back and opened her arms to receive him and Bradley did not disappoint.

He kissed her tenderly and slowly built up the passion, pressing his cock against hers, and stroking her breasts and tweaking her nipples until they were hard pink berries. Penelope gripped his cock firmly and squeezed it as she slid her tongue into his mouth.

They both knew it was time and Bradley pulled down Penelope's panties and tossed them aside. She scooted up the bed a little and placed two pillows under the small of her back and opened her legs. She took Bradley’s erect penis in her hand and guided it to her sphincter and he slid inside her, right up to the hilt. He kissed her, not moving, afraid he would prematurely ejaculate. Penelope crossed her ankles behind his back and her arms around his neck kissed him long and deep and began to writhe beneath him.

Bradley could feel Penelope’s hard cock pressing against his belly, dripping pre-ejaculate and he started to fuck her. He drove himself deep inside her and then pulled out until just his glans remained gripped by her sphincter, and then he drove in again.

Penelope encouraged him, whispering obscenities in his ear, begging him to fuck her, to make her come. She worked her buttocks, her sphincter and her anus, doing all the things she knew drove him wild and was rewarded when he pulled her hard against him and came deep inside her. She came with him, spraying her hot spend on his belly.

They both moaned and cried out at the peak of their passion, holding onto each other, kissing fervently and spending their essence.

After; they in each other’s arms and softly kissed and caressed each other.

“I do love you. I’m not just saying it,” Penelope curled up against him.

“That works out just fine, because I love you too; with all my heart,” he whispered in her ear.

*****

Penelope and Bradley had passed Michael Kendal driving in the opposite direction as they drove to Austin. Not long after they passed, Michael pulled into a byway and took the stocking out of the glove compartment and tended to himself while looking at video on his tablet of him raping Bethany Stills. The head-mounted GoPro had worked a treat and he was able to splice the video so he could see their bodies on the bed and the POV of her face, her eyes filled with terror and then she inexplicably became confused and then surprised when he made her orgasm.

He cleaned up, hit the road and checked into his usual hotel in Balwyn City. He had meetings all the next day at Kent Pharmaceuticals attending product reviews but he had plenty of time afterwards to go hunting.

Ellen Wright was a head trauma nurse at Saint Barnaby’s Hospital in Balwyn and unfortunately for her she caught Michael Kendal’s eye during a seminar at Kent Pharmaceuticals, the topic being advances made regarding analgesics, antipyretics, sedatives, and muscle relaxants commonly used in trauma theatres.

These seminars were really just pitches to encourage prospective clients to trial and ultimately purchase the latest FDA approved products developed by the big drug companies. To Ellen it meant a paid work day away from the hospital grounds and free canapés and cocktails after the seminar.

Ellen was a buxom woman of thirty eight who was confident with her good looks and had sweeping raven hair, long shapely legs and a vivacious personality. She’d been married twice but it didn’t stick and for the last five years she’d been foot loose and fancy free. She had no kids and never regretted not having any. She liked to take long overseas holidays and was not averse to having a holiday romance or two but had no interest in a permanent relationship.

Initially Michael Kendal’s intent was to have one drink at the post-seminar mixer and then hit the bars and nightclubs and go hunting for his next victim but once again it appeared that his victim had found him.

Michael was taken with Ellen as soon as he saw her and made sure that he remained in earshot of her so he could eavesdrop but was careful not to engage with her directly. It was easy to do as Ellen was loud and gregarious and had not let a waiter pass her by without taking a drink off his or her tray.

When he had gleaned all he could without becoming obvious he left the soiree and went back to his hotel and went to work on his laptop finding out everything he could about Ellen Wright.

She had a Facebook page which he accessed and looked at a procession of pictures of her in various holiday venues around the world and in a few of them she was unashamedly accompanied by handsome men, some of them considerably younger than her. She was active on two dating sites and expressed that she was interested in uninhibited single men who were self-sufficient, generous and liked to carouse a little but was definitely not interested in a serious relationship. Her tagline read: Gregarious attractive single thirty-something woman looking for occasional NSA fun on neutral ground with likeminded men.

Needless to say she had had hundreds of hits and offers but she was very selective about whom she actually met.

She lived alone in a small but well-appointed house on the outskirts of the city centre which had very basic security system and she had a pet Schnauzer which she adored. The dog would not be a problem and the security system could be easily dealt with. Michael drove around to where Ellen lived and spent a few hours conducting surveillance.

Michael thought he could probably use a variation of the dog park scam he had used on Mary Whitehouse, especially as Ellen was a dog lover. If he could convince her to let him into her house the security system would not be a problem. He hacked into Saint Barnaby’s Hospital computer system and accessed their personnel database and found Ellen Wright’s work roster.

Once again he was in luck. She was working the next day and then had two rostered days off. He opened his rape kit and double checked everything was in order. The lingerie and heels he had purchased for his next victim was still in its packaging so he unpacked it and put one set of everything into the large Ziploc bags ready for use and laid the other set aside for his own personal use later.

He packed everything back into the trunk of his hire car and drove around the city until he found a suitable vehicle parked in a long term parking lot and stole the plates.

Now he was ready. He would spend the next day attending to business and if all went well he would spend the next night and most of the next day attending to Ellen Wright.

The next evening he waited until he was certain that she was home and settled in for the evening and the street was clear. It was dark and cold and the streets were uninviting which worked in his favour. Michael was dressed in his tracksuit, beanie and gloves with his fanny pack around his waist and held a dog leash in his hand.

The motion activated security light came on as he approached Ellen’s door but he was prepared for that; a fringing hedge in the front garden concealed the front door from the street. He heard someone approach the door and an eye obscured the lens of the peephole.

Michael held up the dog leash, shrugged his shoulders and gave a conciliatory grin. He had lost his dog.

The door opened but only as far as the security chain and Ellen’s face appeared in the gap. Her Schnauzer began to yap and Michael turned on his most brilliant smile. He held up the leash.

“Look I know it’s a long shot but I was walking my Blue Terrier along the street and foolishly let her off the leash to do her business and she ran off and I wondered if my dog might be here in your yard,” Michael began.

He’d done a little research and found that the Blue Terrier was a related breed to the Schnauzer. He saw the look of concern cross Ellen’s face that only a dog lover could have at Michael’s predicament.

“I’ve searched up and down the street already and can’t find her. I don’t want to disturb you and there is no need to come outside; I’d just like to go and have a look,” he gave her a look that said he was sorry to bother her.

Fortune smiled on him again when Ellen’s Schnauzer stuck it’s snout out the door and he bent down and patted it. The dog was friendly and showed her appreciation by licking his hand.

“Of course you can look honey, I’ll turn on the security lighting and open the side gate,” Ellen smiled at him.

“Can I give your dog a treat?” Michael was fussing with the dog now that she had taken the chain off the door.

“She’s had dinner but one little treat won’t hurt,” Ellen said.

It was the last thing she ever said because rather than a doggy treat, Michael produced his chloroform solution drenched dust mask from his fanny pack and with lightning quick reflexes he pressed it to her face and held her head there with his other hand. She struggled briefly, being a bigger woman, but she soon succumbed.

The stupid mutt followed them inside, all excited, thinking it was a game. Michael closed the door and dragged Ellen into the kitchen, the dog tagging along. He lured the dog into the pantry and silently took care of it.

Now that he had control of the situation he took a while to think things through. Michael was aware that he was letting his lust take over his intellect and he didn’t want to make any mistakes that would get him caught, Texas still had the death penalty.

He put on his pantyhose do-rag and surgeons gloves to prevent him shedding any hair or leaving any prints and attended to Ellen Wright. He dragged her into the bedroom which thankfully was on the same floor; she was a big woman. He unceremoniously dumped her on the floor and took a syringe from his fanny pack and looked at the measuring gauge. Now that he had hefted her, Michael realised that he had underestimated how much of his special potion he would need to use on Ellen.

He took out the vial of neuromuscular blocker and plunged the needle into it and topped up the syringe to what he estimated was the required dosage. As soon as Ellen showed signs of rousing he plunged the syringe into her and sat beside her waiting for it to have the desired effect. He watched her eyes begin to focus and then fill with horror.

“You know who I am, don’t you?” he softly stroked her raven hair.

“Well don’t worry Ellen we are going to have a nice time together; I’m sure you will enjoy it,” he smiled at her and saw the sheer panic in her eyes.

He turned off all the lights in the rest of the house and pulled the curtains closed. He checked the alarm and saw the red light burning on the LED above the word unarmed then he turned off the motion-activated security light above the front door. He put on his woollen gloves and beanie and walked casually over to his car and drove down Ellen Wright’s driveway and parked at the rear of the house under an enclosed car port. The hedges surrounding the house shielded him from prying eyes but he kept all the lights off and was as quiet as possible as he unloaded his suitcase and propped it against the back door.

Michael went around front and let himself back inside, closed and locked the door, and went through the kitchen to the back door and hefted his rape kit into the kitchen. He rested awhile and then stripped naked and put on his spandex bodysuit and a fresh pair of latex gloves and lay out all the items he would need on the kitchen counter.

Michael lifted Ellen onto the bed and stripped her. She was tall, had large breasts and a clipped bush; a magnificent specimen. He clipped the garter belt around her waist and rolled the nylons up her legs and clasped the welts to the garters. He was glad that he had bought the extra-long size stockings. He pulled the nylon panties up her legs and fitted them around her buttocks with a little difficulty but soon had them smoothed to his satisfaction and then fitted the flimsy brassiere which barely contained her breasts.

It was all appearance over function anyway. The bra, panties and stockings were navy blue which had not been easy to find and he had given up trying to find blue high heels in the large size he wanted and had settled on black.

He bought his cosmetics kit over to the bed and applied foundation, finishing powder and heavy black eyeliner to Ellen’s face followed by purple and mauve eyeshadow, black mascara, rouge and the two-coat bright-red lipstick he liked. He sprayed her liberally with Christian Dior Poison and put the little bottle aside because he intended to stay a while and would need to freshen up the perfume regularly.

Michael fitted the black high heels to her, squeezing her feet into them. Finally he fitted her with a stylised blue and white nun’s veil that he had bought from a cosplay shop.

He noticed that Ellen had been following him with her eyes whenever he came into her field of view. There was almost a look or resignation in them so he knelt next to her and showed her the huge bulge in crotch of his bodysuit. That induced a look of alarm.

“Not long now Ellen, I just want to have a good look at you before I fuck you,” he said to her cheerfully.

He posed her how he liked, with her arms by her side and her legs spread wide. He checked that the GoPro on the dresser was filming and had a good field of view and then fitted the head-strap and GoPro to his head. He unrolled four extra-large condoms and put them on the bedside table, then he unwrapped another and rolled it on his erect penis.

He surveyed Ellen Wright in all her glory. He could hardly wait to fuck her.

What he really wanted to do was take off the condom and pull down the hood of his bodysuit and lap at her cunt through the flimsy blue panties while he rubbed his cock on her silky nylons than plunge his naked cock inside her and kiss her fervently until he came deep inside her, but that would be suicidal.

There may be a way to do that with future sleeping beauties, but not this one. He would make do with kissing her and then when he was done with her he would wipe her lips and rinse her mouth out with his special DNA destroying oxygen-producing detergent. After that he would fix her makeup and lipstick and pose her and of course he would inseminate her with horse semen before he left.

“Ok Ellen. Shall we begin,” he watched the terror return to her eyes as he climbed onto the bed.

To be continued