“You just treat me like any other woman and when it gets to the tricky bits I’ll help you,” Charlie smiled up at Robin but the sweetness in her gaze had been replaced by desire.

Robin took off his coat, kicked off his shoes and then removed his shirt, tie and pants and then impatiently tugged at his socks.

Charlie sat on the couch watching.

“There is no romantic way for a man to take off his socks is there?” she giggled.

Stripped down to just his underpants, Robin Sparrow was a fine specimen of a man. He was a swimmer and although his summer tan had long since faded, his ropey muscles were still well defined beneath his pale unblemished skin. Charlie reached out and ran her hands across his chest and Robin shivered.

“It’s not fair; I’m nearly naked and you’re still fully clothed,” he grinned at her.

“Don’t you want to undress me? Think of it like unwrapping a Christmas present,” Charlie teased.

Robin surprised her when he lifted her and carried her the short distance to her bed. He lay her down gently and then lay down beside her.

They kissed for a long time, neither of them in any kind of rush, they had all night. Charlie snaked her hand across Robin’s chest outlining the curves of his pectorals. She put her leg over his and rubbed it up slowly and down, Robin put a hand on her thigh and encouraged her, his fingers delighting in the feel of soft flesh encased in the wispy nylons. Their kisses became more demanding, their tongues intertwined and their lips locked.

Charlie continued exploring Robin’s body, stopping at his flat muscled abdomen where she traced the washboard of muscle and sinew. Robin gasped in her mouth and then moaned as her hand continued its journey down to his groin, grazing the considerable lump stretching his briefs.

“I think I want to unwrap my present,” Robin whispered, rolling away from Charlie and then looming over her.

She lay still while Robin unbuttoned her blouse and lifted herself up a little to help him remove it. She was wearing a mauve satin brassiere with padded cups and it contrasted magnificently with her flawless alabaster skin; the pink star-shaped scar on her belly the only blemish. Next he unbuttoned and pulled down her skirt, pooling it around her ankles.

“What about my heels?” Charlie asked.

Robin just gave her a look that could only be interpreted as abject lust.

“Ok. I guess the heels stay on for now,” she chuckled.

Robin gazed at Charlie lying on the bed in the lamplight. She was incredibly beautiful and desirable. Her pretty face with her bright green eyes accentuated by her dark eye makeup and bright-red lipstick was framed by her flaming red hair, which lay tousled on the white pillow case. Her body had a slender frame, but with curves in the right places. She had a tiny waist but well-defined, full hips and a tight buxom bottom. Her breasts were understandably small but helped by the padding in the mauve satin bra they were proportional to her body.

The matching satin full-cut knickers clung to her body and Robin had to admit to being stupefied as where her genitalia might be but he was more interested in continuing his inspection of her body. Under the panties she was wearing flesh-toned, high-gloss, sheer-to-the-waist tights that clung to her long legs like gossamer and appeared to glisten in the lamplight. The bright-red stiletto heels were the icing on the cake.

Robin fell on her and stifled her surprised squeal by mashing her lips with his, driving his tongue deep into her mouth. Charlie wrapped her arms around him and locked her calves around his. She could feel the substantial girth of his erect penis pressing into her belly.

Charlie managed to snake her hand between their bodies and when Robin realised what she was doing he lifted himself off her a little to cooperate. He moaned as Charlie traced the outline of his phallus through his underwear and drew a deep breath when her fingertips found the glands of his penis protruding from the top of the waistband. She worked her hand inside his underpants and took his manhood in her hand. It was massive.

Robin disengaged so that he could shuck out of his underpants and when he was naked he lay down on top of Charlie again. She felt soft and warm and smelled wonderful under him, his cock pressed on the front of her panties and he revelled in the sensation of the satin panty against his sensitive flesh but at the same time wondered where Charlie was hiding her genitals.

Charlie wrapped her legs around Robin and encouraged him to rub against her; she was uncomfortably erect and would need to do something about it soon or it would become painful. She was determined to let Robin fully explore her body and if what he found repulsed him, so be it.

Robin slipped his hand inside Charlie’s knickers and tights and found a clean-shaven pubis and the base of what was unmistakably a penis. Charlie opened her legs a little to facilitate him and Robin put his hand between her thighs and found Charlie's penis strapped to her perineum. It was wrapped in her empty scrotum and held in place by medical tape.

“Does it repulse you?” Charlie whimpered; her face buried in his neck.

She couldn’t bear to see the disgust in his eyes.

Robin tugged at the edge of the tape.

“Can I take it off?” he whispered in her ear.

“It’s like a Band-Aid, the quicker the better but I understand if you would just rather…” she didn’t get to finish the sentence.

Robin put his mouth over hers to stifle the yelp and ripped away the gaff. He carefully eased her semi-hard penis out of its nest and it filled the front of her tights and panties.

“Is that better?” he smiled down at her.

Charlie nodded and hunched up on her heels briefly and clenched then relaxed the muscles that allowed her testes to descend back into her scrotum.

“Now. Where were we?” Robin lowered his face to Charlie’s and kissed her.

He pressed his cock into her groin, feeling the flesh of her penis become harder inside her panties as he began to rub against her. They enjoyed that for a while, Charlie stroking his muscled back and rubbing her legs on his while he rutted against her. They kissed fervently. Charlie wanted to feel his powerful manhood in her hand and she worked it between their bodies and gripped his hard veiny flesh.

Robin rolled off her so that they lay side by side, kissing and caressing while Charlie stroked his huge cock and cupped his scrotum. She froze when Robin tentatively put his hand in her knickers and touched her penis.

“You don’t have to… of my god!” Charlie purred when Robin took her in hand and began to stroke her through the diaphanous fabric of her tights.

Robin broke the kiss and smiled down at her.

“I don’t have to do what?” he grinned, squeezing her cock, teasing dewy drops of pre-cum from her.

“I know how these things work you know,” he smirked.

“Well you better be careful mister because if you keep that up it’s going to go off in your hand,” Charlie smirked back at him.

“Me too sweetheart. I’m close,” Robin sighed.

“Ok. Here we go. You be careful with that thing; go slow ok?” Charlie looked up at him with genuine trepidation on her face.

Charlie opened the drawer on her bedside table and took out a tube of KY-Jelly.

She grabbed a handful of pillows and put them under the small of her back and lay there with her legs open invitingly and Robin climbed between them. Charlie had prepared and lubricated herself for just this eventuality while she was in the toilet but she had never considered that Robin might have such a monstrous girth.

Charlie unscrewed the cap of the lubricant and covered Robin’s erection with a healthy coat of the slippery gel.

“Be careful or I’m going to come before I’m inside you,” Robin gasped.

Charlie pulled down her panties, leaving them dangling from one ankle, her cock tented the gusset of her pantyhose which were soaked with their pre-seminal fluids.

“Ok lover, take it slow,” she smiled up at him.

Charlie guided his glans between her buttocks and snagged the crotch of her tights with her long fingernail to make a hole big enough for his cock. She pressed Robin’s glans against her puckered bud and bit her lip in anticipation.

Robin pressed himself very slowly against the resistance of Charlie’s sphincter, letting the lubricant do its job. Robin had women complain that he was too big for them during vaginal intercourse so he knew that he had to be careful and totally attentive to Charlie’s responses.

Charlie relaxed her sphincter and the head of Robin’s cock eased inside her, stretching her flesh to full elasticity. Expecting searing pain, Charlie was pleasantly surprised to feel a pleasant fullness, there was some dull ache for sure but it was a nice dull ache.

Robin lowered his face to Charlie and kissed her, keeping his body still even though he wanted so much to be fully inside her. Charlie slowly and surely impaled herself on Robin’s magnificent manhood until it was inside her all the way. Robin had to force himself not to come when her slick, velvet sheath enveloped his throbbing cock.

“Oh god Charlie; I can’t stop it!” Robin cried.

“Then don’t,” Charlie crushed her lips against his and rode up to meet his thrusts as he began to fuck her.

She wrapped her silky legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he lifted her bodily from the bed, cupping her buttocks in his big hands as he pounded his cock in and out of Charlie’s tight anus.

Charlie orgasmed first, biting her lip and grinding herself against his fearsome weapon as it scoured her anus, sending ripples of intense pleasure through her body. She flooded the front of her tights and Robin felt her scalding issue on his belly. He roared with intense satisfaction and delight as his scrotum contracted and a torrent of semen filled Charlie's back passage.

They clung to each other, moaning endearments as they luxuriated in the most wonderful orgasms that either of them had ever experienced. The rolled around the small bed extracting every scintilla of pleasure from each other’s bodies.

They lay panting and exhausted on the bed, both perspiring despite the cool evening.

Robin rolled over and sidled up to Charlie and stroked her face, his finger followed the curve of her chin down to the silvery scar on her neck. He looked down at her belly and saw the fading pink scar and traced it with his finger.

“Did I hurt you?” he sounded genuinely concerned.

“Yes,” she replied.

“And I want you to hurt me like that again as soon as you’re ready,” she snuggled up to him and mewed.

Robin chuckled.

“If it’s any consolation I think your high heels have scarred me for life,” Robin pretended to wince when he dabbed at the marks where Charlie’s heels had raked his flanks.

“Serves you right! You’re the one who wanted me to leave them on,” she taunted him.

*****

The migraines were getting worse and sex with Alice and masturbating with his trophies bought only temporary relief. Walter needed to find another Flaming Girl to ease his pain, to satisfy the terrible hunger that plagued him. To make matters worse that muckraker Ruffe Ingersoll had posted a story in The Daily Sun hypothesising that the Essex Slasher, as they called him, was fixated on women with red hair and blue or green eyes which would further reduce the pool of eligible ladies.

Sadie Smithers was a barmaid at the Trunk and Brick pub just off the A12 outside of Chelmsford. She was in her late forties and a rather buxom matronly woman that some would have mean spiritedly said was mutton dressed as lamb. Her usual garb for tending bar was a short black tight-fitting skirt, white satin blouse worn open to show her ample décolletage, black seamed stockings and shiny black high heels. She favoured heavy makeup and wore her hair in a bouffant. The more generous patrons compared her to Miss Brahms and the less generous patrons compared her to Mrs Slocombe from the popular TV series, Are You Being Served.

Sadie was gregarious, chatty and always up for a laugh. She flirted with the patrons but only in fun and liked to lift her skirt and flash her stocking-tops after a couple of shandies after work.

Her bouffant of fiery red hair was her trademark and with piecing blue eyes she copped a few quips about being an ideal candidate for the Slasher.

“Don’t be silly love; he’d not be interested in old biddy like me, he likes ‘em young and lively does the Slasher,” she joked.

Walter Middleton stopped in the Trunk and Brick for a pint on the way home one day; his first time ever visiting the establishment. He sat at a table in the corner mesmerised by Sadie Smithers whose hair flamed like a torch and whose eyes glowed like a perfect blue flame.

It was miserable English weather, drizzling and foggy the next evening when Sadie Smithers was waiting at the bus stop and she was grateful when the handsome man driving the Bentley stopped and offered her a lift.

She was found the next day in a wooded copse with her skirt hiked up, her legs open wide and her knickers were gone along with the silver anklet that she always wore. Her throat had been slashed and her innards arranged like a garland around her neck. There was a sealed envelope addressed to Ruffe Ingersoll beside her body sealed in plastic baggie to keep it safe from the elements.

*****

“So what do we do?” Charlie and Robin sat in the seedy café across from Glenda Savage’s flat.

Robin had spent the last five nights in Charlie’s bed.

They were both ravenous and had eaten a good old English fry-up for breakfast.

“What do you mean?” Robin reached across the table and took Charlie’s hand in his.

“You’re a Detective Sargent and I’m a transvestite prostitute. We’re hardly a perfect match,” Charlie rummaged in her bag for her smokes.

“What if you weren’t?” Robin mused.

“What if I wasn’t what? Do you have a magic wand that’s going to turn me into a real woman?” Charlie lit up her smoke.

“There you go again. As far as I am concerned you are as much a woman as any other girl I’ve met,” Robin replied.

“I bet you say that to all the pretty transvestites you’ve bummed,” Charlie said sarcastically and immediately regretted it.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie squeezed his hand.

“It’s ok Charlie. I know that self-depreciation is just your defence mechanism,” Robin squeezed back.

“Do you want to wag school today?” Robin smiled at her.

Charlie furrowed her brow.

“You want to go home and do it all again? I’m surprised you have the energy,” she smiled at him mischievously.

“As much as I’d like to, no. I want you to come with me into London; I have a surprise for you,” Robin returned her smile.

“Are you taking me out on the town Detective Sargent Sparrow?” she teased.

“Sort of. Finish that fag and lets go,” he stood up, finished his tea and went to the counter to pay.

It took just under an hour on the train and Charlie slept most of it with her head on Robin’s shoulder, only waking to change trains at Liverpool St. He dozed too and woke Charlie as their train was pulling into the Oxford Circus underground.

Soho in the seventies was a mecca for locals and tourists looking for ‘sex and drugs and rock and roll’. Homosexuality was decriminalised in the UK in 1967 but there still weren’t that many gay friendly or alternative gender venues. Soho was the antithesis of most of the UK with a plethora of gay and transgender bars and nightclubs, cafes and shops. The sub-culture attracted those whose affections were so inclined, including the lookie-loos and not to mention the sticky overcoat brigade. It was a melting pot.

Charlie was fascinated as Robin led her through the streets, she didn’t know which way to look there was so much happening. Pop music blared from cafés and bars, there were ‘working girls’ of all persuasions and rent boys openly plying their trade.

“You’re not getting me a new corner to work on are you?” Charlie punched Robin in the arm playfully.

“Far from it. Come in here,” Robin pulled Charlie into a garishly appointed unisex hairdressing salon.

‘Fringe Chic’ was a very avant-garde hairstyling salon which catered to people of all persuasions. Inside it was painted rose-pink and teal, although you could hardly see the walls for the posters of famous musicians and movie stars and other arty paraphernalia. Mirror balls hung from the ceiling and strings of coloured lights were strung along the coving where the walls met the ceiling. Pop music was blaring from speakers in all four corners of the shop.

The walls were lined with long benches where hairdressers were hard at work washing, drying, colouring, cutting, and styling.

A very tall blonde girl wearing pink jeans and a blue puffy-sleeved top under her white hairdressers smock squealed and dropped the scissors and comb she had been using and ran to the door. She literally threw herself at Robin who had to catch her as she hung onto him with arms and legs wrapped around him. She smothered him with kisses and Charlie felt a pang of jealousy.

The girl dropped to her feet but still draped herself around Robin hanging onto him for dear life.

“Charlie, this is Samantha and Samantha this is Charlie,” Robin made the introductions.

“Oh my god! My stiff upper-lipped, straight-laced and so square he’s a cube big brother is hanging around with you! Aren’t you just precious, come here so I can see you,” Samantha latched onto Charlie just like she had her brother.

After a generous hug and kiss on the cheek Samantha held Charlie out at arm’s length.

Charlie was wearing a denim miniskirt, a mauve satin blouse, her favourite bolero jacket, pale pink tights and red platform shoes.

“So cute. I’ve read about you of course and seen your picture in the paper but you are so much more beautiful in the flesh. Who does your hair?” Samantha gushed.

Charlie was still overcome and almost speechless.

“I do,” she eventually whispered.

“We’ll fix that. Anyway, what do you think?” Samantha waved her hand around the salon where four hairdressers, three girls and one boy, were busy cutting hair.

They all wore stylish clothes under their smocks and their hair was outrageously perfect.

“I think it’s wonderful,” Charlie gawped at the shop and its fittings.

“So when can you start?” Samantha’s smile was wide and addictive.

“What do you mean?” Charlie smiled back but was bamboozled.

“My dear brother told me that you’ve always wanted to be hairdresser and I have an apprenticeship vacant so…” Samantha left the sentence hanging.

Charlie’s smile dropped from her face and was replaced by anger.

She turned around and walked out of the salon with Robin hot on her heels.

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, slow down… stop. Let’s talk,” Robin had to run to catch up with her.

“How dare you!” Charlie turned on Robin and unleashed her venom.

“Look. You can’t keep doing what you have been doing even if you wanted to. I spoke to Sam on the phone during the week and told her about you and she is really keen to take you on,” Robin explained.

“So… you told her all about me did you?” Charlie's anger roiled.

“Look. She can read a newspaper just like anybody else but I told her how gracious you are, how lovely a person you are, even though the world seems intent on hating you, you deal with it in your own glorious way. Sam doesn’t want you because she feels sorry for you; she wants you because you have pluck and personality,” Robin elaborated.

“Wait! You told her this before we… you know, before we shagged?” Charlie’s anger started to abate.

“Yes. Just after I joined the SIC and realised what an arsehole I’d been and how lovely you are,” Robin’s voice was pleading.

“So this wasn’t a ruse because you didn’t want your girlfriend to be a prostitute,” Charlie asked.

“Charlie. Everyone knows you used to be a prostitute. It’s in the fucking papers! I don’t care. I’d love you whatever you chose to do,” Robin said.

Charlie let the word ‘love’ sail past; she guessed correctly that Robin didn’t even know he’d said it.

They started to walk slowly back to the salon where Samantha was waiting at the door.

“Lover’s tiff?” Samantha grinned.

Robin blushed.

“So you want the job? There is no one here to judge you. Just work hard and be willing to learn and keep an open mind as to the clientele,” Samantha gushed.

“Open mind! You know I’m a transvestite right?” Charlie replied.

“Of course I do. That’s part of the appeal. Not only are you a gorgeous transvestite, you’re a famous gorgeous transvestite and if you can turn my broomstick-up-his-arse brother into someone half-decent you really must be the wonderful person he says you are,” Samantha grinned.

“Hey!” Robin protested.

“What are you doing here? Piss off and come back at closing; us girls have work to do,” Samantha put her arm around Charlie’s shoulder and led her into the salon.

On the way home Charlie regaled Robin with how exciting her day had been, the interesting people she had met and although she spent most of the day sweeping up hair, putting out trash, washing and blow-drying scalps, she realised that she had to start at the bottom.

Charlie snuggled up to Robin on the train and they received a few ‘shouldn’t be allowed’ looks from some of the older passengers; not because they thought Charlie was a transvestite, but because they were behaving like teenagers.

“Do you know that your sister is wonderful,” Charlie gushed.

“Yeah, I kinda knew that,” Robin smiled.

“No I mean really wonderful! And so are you. So how would you like me to reward you?” she asked, seductively nibbling his ear.

“I’d like you to behave like a grownup while we are out together and you can be as naughty as you like when we get home,” Robin, removed her hand from his crotch.

“Oh, pants to that! You’ll just have to accept me as I am,” she grinned at him but settled back into her seat and put her head on his shoulder.

“Really Robin, thank you so much,” she sighed and drifted away.

*****

To make up for Charlie’s absence from the SIC, Glenda and Robin took her on a tour of the Slasher’s crime scenes in the vain hope that being at the scene of the crime might trigger some sort of memory or response from Charlie but it came to no avail. Back at Glenda’s flat that night over a take-away dinner they pondered over what little evidence they had.

“Look. Despite the overalls and boots he was wearing he was undoubtedly posh,” Charlie reiterated.

“He spoke posh, he had soft hands, his mannerisms and everything about him seemed posh. He was clean and wearing aftershave. He writes well and we all agree that he probably owns a motor. That’s something. That eliminates all of the working-class and less salubrious types. It narrows down our field,” Charlie said.

“You're right Charlie. Let’s go through our files and ditch every suspect that doesn’t fit that profile,” Robin said.

It was then that Glenda's phone rang and she turned white as a sheet as she answered it. She listened for a while and then put the phone back in the cradle.

“He’s struck again. A man walking his dog near the A12 found a barmaid from the Trunk and Brick in the woods. The body was staged this time but it’s definitely him. He left another note for Ruffe but CID has it,” Glenda said picking up her things.

“We’re taking you home Charlie then Glenda and I will go over to CID,” Robin said stridently and Charlie knew not to argue.

“Are you coming home later?” she asked picking up her things.

Robin helped her on with her coat. When they got to Charlie’s place she leaned in and kissed Robin goodbye.

“Is that a good thing?” Glenda looked at him through narrow eyes as they entered the evening traffic.

“Is any relationship ever a good thing? You never know until it pans out,” Robin replied.

“Christ Robin! She comes with some baggage! What do you think our superiors are going to think when they find out?” Glenda sighed discontentedly.

“I’m hoping the same thing they think about you shagging the Chief Constable. Don’t ask – don’t tell,” Robin said through gritted teeth.

“How many people know?” Glenda said resignedly.

“They’re calling you ‘bury me in a Y-shaped coffin Glenda’ down at the station,” Robin smirked.

“Touché,” she couldn’t help but smile.

Glenda and Robin spent some time at CID talking to the Essex Slasher Task Force but they were too busy with this latest development to give them too much of their time. They did get to see the note that the Slasher had left at the scene and Glenda distracted the CID detective constable who had a crush on her while Robin made a Photostat copy and put the original back in the Ziploc bag.

They decided it was too late to visit the crime scene but Glenda called Ruffe at home and asked him to come into the SIC the next day.

Ruffe

I saw the whore again at the underpass but she doesn’t flame any longer, she is just another pathetic street walker, made more so because she’s a transvestite. I did enjoy fucking her and slitting her throat but my interest in her has gone. Now… the plump barmaid was a find. She was very much a Flaming Girl who burned so brightly when I slit her throat. I took my time with her and enjoyed every second, I climaxed in her twice before the inevitable conclusion; I think she liked it, she didn’t know who I was until she saw the knife.

So much for your pathetic efforts to warn the public. There will always be girls who flame for me; there will always be my Flaming Girls and I am duty bound to ensure they burn brightly before I snuff out their fire.

Are you going to write another story about me? If you do I’d love to read it, I like how you keep retelling the stories of my previous exploits, it stimulates me. It makes me want to take out my trophies and play with them. You know what I mean. Tell the tranny her knickers still hold her scent.

VULCAN

Ruffe read and reread the note that had been addressed: To Ruffe Ingersoll C/- The Daily Sun.

“He’s playing with us again but he’s inadvertently confirming some of the things we suspected about him,” Robin took the letter back.

“What can I print?” Ruffe asked.

“We’re not supposed to have a copy but Glenda and I saw the original. Attribute me as saying in an interview that the Slasher left a letter at the scene which confirms that Sadie Smithers is the Slasher’s sixth victim and that he claims he’s not going to stop,” Robin said.

“I’m supposed to run anything that Ruffe prints past the Chief Constable,” Glenda said.

“But fuck him; we aren’t exactly on the best of term at the moment,” she said, turning her mouth down.

“I’ll be seeing him this afternoon so I’ll let him know what you are going to publish Ruffe,” Glenda said.

Ruffe beat a hasty retreat to the news room to write up his story while Robin and Glenda updated the crime wall and sifted through the sparse information they had regarding the latest victim.

Meanwhile at Fringe Chic salon Maggie Reardon paid a call on Charlie Ringwald and Samantha Sparrow. She took Charlie and Samantha for coffee.

“Sam, Charlie has agreed to be interviewed for a story I’ve been commissioned to do for Modern Girl magazine. I’d like to use your salon as background for the accompanying art,” Maggie sipped coffee and reached for her cigarettes.

“Does Robin know about this?” Samantha turned to Charlie.

“He knows I’m considering it,” Charlie said coyly.

“Why does Robin need to know?” Maggie thought she’s sniffed out something to embellish her story.

“Wait a minute? Robin Sparrow? Samantha Sparrow? That can’t be a coincidence. What’s going on?” Maggie scrutinised Charlie and Sam, waiting for a response.

“Robin found me a job is all. He recommended me to his sister Sam who graciously took me on as an apprentice,” Charlie lied.

“So there’s no hank-panky there then?” Maggie smiled knowingly, circling the fingers of her left hand and sliding the forefinger of her right hand in and out of the tunnel.

Samantha blushed but Charlie became flushed with anger.

“Look Maggie. It’s enough that I’m going to bare my all and tell you about my life as a transvestite and my work as a prostitute. What is happening in my private life right now remains private. You do not mention Robin anywhere in the article ok?” Charlie said flintily and made as if to leave.

“Ok; calm your farm. No mention of Robin in the story; got it!” Maggie sighed and encouraged Charlie to sit back down.

“And you can use my salon as backdrop but I want a plug for Fringe Chic in the piece ok?” Samantha chimed in.

“Done. Charlie if you don’t mind sticking around I’ll interview you now and drop by the salon with my photographer tomorrow. Sam I’ll just get a couple of quotes from you before you go,” Maggie took a notepad and pen from her bag and was all business.

Maggie wrote her story titled: ‘Everything’s Coming Up Charlie’. The story began with: Charlie is one of the most beautiful, vibrant, intelligent women I have ever met. What’s so special about her? She was born a boy. She has overcome adversity that you would not believe: prejudice, poverty, antipathy and hostility. And finally she became the sixth victim of the Essex Slasher and survived that.

Forced to work the streets in order to survive, Charlie has overcome all of these roadblocks and now works as an apprentice hairdresser at Samantha Sparrow’s ‘Fringe Chic’, a trendy salon in the heart of Soho.

The rest of the piece summarised Charlie’s life and told of her encounter with the Slasher and of her recovery. Maggie wrote about the ‘Charlie fad’, where young girls were copying Charlie’s appearance based on the pictures of her printed in the Daily Sun. She extrapolated the story of Charlie being offered legitimate employment at Fringe Chic and quoted Samantha who described Charlie as a wonderful person and a hardworking employee. Accompanying the piece was a series of pictures of Charlie dressed in a variety of the latest fashion ensembles posing in the salon, Maggie also got permission to reproduce Ruffe’s picture of her lying wounded in her hospital bed. There was even a shot of Charlie cutting hair, even though she was not yet a qualified hairdresser. Poetic licence Maggie called it.

The piece finished with Charlie responding to a Q&A session. When asked if she had a boyfriend, Charlie had blushed and answered: “I think I do; I’m just not sure if he’s sure”.

The piece was well received by the editorial staff at Modern Girl magazine and a picture of Charlie dressed in a yellow minidress, white opaque tights and strappy white high-heel sandals leaning against a barber’s chair would grace the front page of the next edition under the headline: Everything’s Coming Up Charlie. It was to be the lead story and would be published in the next edition of the weekly magazine.

*****

“Ah, Glenda. I want to run something past you, I’d value your advice,” Edward Bard said when Glenda reported for duty in the Chief Constable’s office two days after the Slasher’s last murder.

“There is pressure on me from above to cancel the Annual Ball due to the Essex Slasher still being active. You’re my senior Community Support Officer; how do you think the public feel about it?”

“Sir, I think it would be a huge mistake to cancel the Ball. The public will view it that the police service is being dictated to by the Slasher. It would be a sign of weakness,” Glenda replied.

“The whole thing has been booked, paid for, invitations accepted; it would be a huge embarrassment to cancel it.”

“Thanks Glenda. That’s exactly how I feel,” Edward sighed deeply.

“Are you taking anyone this year?” Edward asked hesitantly.

Since their altercation at the hotel things has been icy between them.

“You’ll be taking Alicia so why should you care?” Glenda replied curtly.

“Just showing interest in your welfare, when are we going to get over this rift?” Edward rubbed his forehead.

“When you post me to CID or promote me Edward. You can have as much slap and tickle, as you like to call it, when I’m either a detective or a Sargent,” Glenda turned and abruptly walked out of his office.

Edward eyed her ample derriere and long, black stockinged legs intently, his penis becoming tumescent under the desk. He regretted the comments he had made about her being fat the last time they had been together and not for the first time realised that he took her for granted. Maybe he should cut her loose and let her continue her career but he was so used to having her around. He sighed and went back to the never-ending pile of paperwork on his desk.

*****

Charlie had become a new person. She had always been strong willed and confident but she had as a necessity built a shell around herself to protect her from the harshness of the world. Working in Fringe Chic she learned to engage with people and the types that frequented the salon and Soho in general were far more empathetic and considerate than the close-minded people she was used to dealing with; people who either wanted to deride her or shag her.

Even travelling to and from work she was just a pretty face in the crowd. Some recognised her from the articles in The Daily Sun but to most she was just a pretty girl travelling to work. She soon came to realise that the appreciative glances she was receiving from men were not because they curious about her gender but because they found her attractive.

All this would change when the next edition of Modern Girl was published but that was nearly a week away. Charlie was still debating when she and if she should tell Robin about the story and had asked everyone at the salon and Ruffe and Maggie to keep schtum.

Charlie and Robin split their after work hours between his flat and her bedsit. Robin was even considering offering Charlie the opportunity to move in with him if only to save money as her wages at the Salon was not as much as she had earned on the streets. Robin knew that Charlie would see the offer as charity and besides, he had to admit it was a little early yet to move in together.

They did all the usual things that a dating couple did in 1975: they went to the movies, nights down the pub, dinner dates, and on weekends they went for walks and went sightseeing in London and took train trips to other destinations. They even caught up socially with Samantha and others from Fringe Chic who were at first sceptical when they found out Robin was a policeman.

Until Charlie started working at Fringe Chic Charlie didn’t have any real friends so there was no one for Charlie to introduce Robin to but Charlie was acutely aware that other than Glenda Savage, Robin had not introduced her to any of his friends from the police service. That was until Robin made her a proposition.

Robin and Charlie were lying in Robin’s bed snuggled under the covers listening to the rain outside and watching the television. Robin was naked and Charlie was wearing her pink rayon baby doll pyjamas and sheer tights, partly to keep her legs warm but mostly because she knew they drove Robin wild. They were spooning and Robin was lazily stroking her thigh, occasionally allowing his hand to drift across her shorts and brush against her erection. She thought this only fair as he had his hard cock nestled in her buttocks and was grinding against the slippery fabric covering her soft bottom.

When a commercial came on Robin broke the silence.

“How would you like to come to the Annual Essex Police Ball,” Robin waggled Charlie's penis playfully.

Charlie smacked his hand away, turned around and engaged him with her eyes.

“Are you serious?” she said solemnly.

“Why not? Glenda and I are going. She’s going stag but everyone else is taking their girlfriends, husbands or wives so why shouldn’t I take my girlfriend?” he leaned and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Is that what I am? Your girlfriend?” Charlie was not going to let him get away with changing the subject.

“We’ve never really discussed our relationship, but yes I consider you my girlfriend. I’ve been exclusive to you since we first slept together and presume you have too,” Robin answered.

“What do you mean presume?” Charlie slapped him playfully.

“Of course I have. Also… remember what you said to me the day you took me to meet Sam?” Charlie squinted, wondering if he did.

“I said I’d love you whatever you choose to do. So choose to come to the ball or choose not to, I’ll still love you,” Robin caressed her cheek.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it Robin; I couldn’t stand being rejected again,” Charlie whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

“Look I know it’s complicated, I know it’s difficult, I know it’s scary even; but I know I love you.”

“I love you Charlie Ringwald,” Robin leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

Charlie snuggled up to Robin as much for comfort as to hide her tears.

After a few minutes of nuzzling Charlie peeked out from the hollow of his shoulder.

“I don’t have a ball gown,” she smiled cheekily.

“I’ll buy you one,” Robin stroked her hair.

“In fact we can go shopping for it on Friday. The ball is Saturday,” Robin was excited.

Then he saw Charlie's face fall.

“What?” he asked.

She smiled at him coyly.

“As much as I respect your fashion choices Robin; I would much rather go shopping with Samantha. Look on the bright side, it will be a nice surprise when you see me in my gown for the first time,” Charlie leaned in and nipped his ear seductively.

“Yes, that’s true. It will be a nice surprise,” Robin agreed.

“So I can then? Go shopping for a dress with Sam?” the delight in Charlie’s voice was evident.

“Sure you can,” Robin kissed her quickly.

“Well… for being such a nice boyfriend, maybe I should reward you,” Charlie said, her head disappearing under the covers.

“Ok… but only if you insist… oh my god!” Robin moaned as Charlie engulfed him.

Charlie took Robin’s semi-hard cock into her mouth and used her lips and her tongue to bring it to full tumescence. Robin groaned and heaved the blankets away so he could see Charlie’s beautiful face while she fellated him. Her pretty face, blue emerald-green eyes, bright-red lipsticked lips framed by her shocking-red hair, dishevelled but still sexy. She smiled at him around his penis as she worked on it, making him shudder with lust.

Lying head to toe as they were gave Robin unfettered access to her body and Robin yanked at her baby-doll shorts pulling them down to her knees and exposing her hard cock encased in the gusset of her tights. Robin stroked Charlie’s shaft through the gossamer material and was rewarded with a bubble of pre-ejaculate which soaked into her tights. Charlie whimpered with her mouth full of cock.

Robin yanked down the waistband of Charlie’s tights and freed her erection and then leaned in and took her in his mouth. The first time he had done this with Charlie he thought he would be repulsed but because he loved Charlie so much he found that he enjoyed pleasing her this way and was surprised that it felt good, it turned him on.

Charlie and Robin sucked and slavered at each other’s penises bring each other close to orgasm and then backing off, edging each other and enjoying prolonging their bliss.

Charlie spat out Robin’s cock and pulled her own penis from his mouth.

“Hey! I was enjoying that!” Robin whined but stopped when Charlie lay on top of him and kissed him.

“I was too but I want you inside me. You know I love to see your face when you come in me,” Charlie smiled at him.

She kicked off her shorts and reached into the bedside table and took out a tube of K-Y Jelly and used it where it was needed. She kissed Robin passionately and straddled him, directing his penis into the small hole she made in the crotch of her tights. She teased Robin as he tried to push his slippery appendage into her puckered bud, she circled his glans around her sphincter and rubbed it in the crease between her buttocks, frustrating Robin but also making him more excited. She loved the feel of his hard flesh on her delicate pink crinkled entrance and she was fully erect, her cock tenting the front of her tights.

Robin caressed Charlie’s cock, wrapping the silky tights material around the bloated appendage, squeezing and stroking it.

Finally Charlie eased the glans of Robin’s cock into her sphincter and raised herself a little and then squatted so that he was fully inside her, filling her anus with his huge cock. She rode him cowgirl, throwing back her head in rapture and then falling forward so she could kiss him while he fucked her. Robin held Charlie by her slim hips and helped lift her up and down on his shaft, enjoying the feel of her buttocks, wrapped in the silky shroud of her tights, rubbing on his scrotum and his thighs.

He took her cock in his hand began to earnestly stroke it. He was close to extremis and he wanted Charlie to climax with him, which she did.

Robin drove his cock all the way inside Charlie’s tight, slick sheath and ejaculated while Charlie writhed with pleasure, her own penis depositing a puddle of creamy semen in the front of her tights as Robin milked her, squeezing every drop of the precious fluid from Charlie’s cock.

Charlie fell forward and kissed Robin passionately and he put his arms around her and held her close as the last of his issue was deposited deep in her anus. They held each other, kissing and caressing, Charlie’s spend a sticky mess between their bodies and Robin’s semen dribbling from Charlie’s sphincter, soaking into her tights.

Charlie liked staying at Robin’s flat because he had a proper shower in his bathroom and Robin carried her to it and they showered together, lathering each other up. Charlie left on her tights and peeled them off when she had lathered and rinsed them. She tossed them over the shower rail to dry.

“No wanking in them you!” she playfully tweaked his nose.

“I’ll leave them here to dry and they can be our play tights has been as you insist I wear them when we fuck,” Charlie squeezed his deflated penis.

“I like to fuck you in stockings too; I’m an equal opportunity fetishist when it comes to hosiery,” Robin returned the favour and squeezed Charlie's limp cock in return.

They dried off and Charlie slipped into a pair of black leggings and a loose jumper whilst Robin wore a quilted satin smoking jacket. They snuggled on the carpet near the fireplace drinking wine.

“I’ve been thinking darling,” Charlie began.

“Here we go… you have never called me darling before,” Robin smiled to himself.

Charlie wriggled around so she was sitting in his lap. She softly caressed his face.

“You know if I get a new evening gown I’m going to need some new shoes to match it,” she pinched his cheek playfully.

“I knew it!” Robin laughed.

“Well if you love me…” Charlie pouted like a spoiled girl.

“I knew those words would come back to haunt me,” Robin play-wrestled Charlie down on the carpet and loomed over her.

He suddenly became serious.

“I do love you Charlie Ringwald,” he looked deeply into Charlie's eyes.

To be continued