Jazz

"Come on Jazz, I'm serious."

"Get out," the short black woman said, throwing her hands up.

"Why not?" Regina whined.

"You're serious." Jasmine said incredulously.

"Yes, I'm serious," the tall blonde earnestly replied.

'Dr. Ethridge to the ballistics lab, please' the PA announced, interrupting them.

Regina almost jumped out of her chair. She started for the exit to at a gallop, but halted and hurried back to the table.

"Sorry, Skolefi case. Just think about it will you?"

"I think you're off your nut."

"Damnit, enough insults. Seriously, just consider it. Please?"

"Get your ass to the lab. I'll see you after work," Jazz said dismissively.

The tall blonde frowned, but then hurried off.

Jasmine Carter sat and stared at what was left of her mostly unpalatable lunch. She was a short woman, thick but not fat, with a big ass and massive chest. Her skin was like burnished coal; so black it almost appeared blue at times. Intelligent brown eyes highlighted a face that even her mother would be hard pressed to call pretty. Her nose was flat, having been broken several times and her lips too wide. A long scar ran from her eye, across her cheek and down off her chin. A memento from the last domestic dispute she and her partner had answered. Her partner hadn't faired so well, they buried him three days later.

When it had healed, she had requested a transfer to the state crime lab, where her background in police methodology had combined with her love of science to make her one of the state's finest crime scene investigators. She had taken the long and painful way to get here, to what most considered a plumb job.

Her friend Regina Ethridge had taken the exact opposite route. She had graduated with a degree in microbiology, and minors in metallurgy, forensic science and criminal justice. The daughter of a decorated veteran, she had found no resistance to landing a job here right out of college. She was brilliant, intuitive and made up for her lack of street knowledge with boundless energy, tenacity and a mind that was like a sponge, absorbing all information and able to retrieve any of it at a moment's notice.

She also had movie star good looks and was extremely naïve. She was married to Steve Ethridge, a detective with APD. Jazz knew him vaguely, a charmer with good looks and a soft-spoken manner. She knew a lot more about Steve and Gina's sex life than she cared to, but that was natural with best friends. No doubt the tall blonde knew more about Jazz's private life than she was comfortable with at times. At least, that was what Jazz had always assumed.

Shaking her head, she got up and went to her office. A manila envelope sat on her desk and she opened it with a nail file, while checking her voice mail. The envelope contained eight by ten glossies of a crime scene. The girl in the photos had been shot twice in the chest, and the house had been ransacked. Local police thought it might be a robbery gone bad, but had decided to ask her to look it over. Jazz shoved Regina and her weirdness out of her mind and began going over the pictures and police report with a magnifying glass.

"You going to stay here all night?" Regina asked.

Jazz looked up suddenly, her face showing total confusion.

"Damnit, what time is it?" she asked.

It had happened again, it almost always did. She got so lost in what she was doing that she simply phased out and lost all track of time.

"It's five forty-five, silly," Regina said with a chuckle.

"I'll meet you down in the garage, just have to make a phone call," Jazz said, looking up the code and dialing it in.

"Gilespe? Yeah, Carter, state crime lab. Better grab the boyfriend, this isn't a robbery gone bad, it's a murder, pure and simple."

***

Regina was leaning on the hood of Jazz's 'vette, looking like an overdressed model for one of those cheap calendars that parts companies gave out to mechanics. Jazz hit the button on her key chain as she approached and Regina was already seated with her seat belt on before Jazz got in.

The short woman fired the engine up, drove slowly out of the garage and merged into traffic. As soon as she managed to get out of the heart of town she opened it up and just enjoyed the feeling of power the hot little car gave her. She rolled down the window and practically hung her head out.

"You're speeding again."

"Aww, get off my ass. If you can't handle a little adrenalin rush, catch a ride with someone else."

"Did you think about it?"

"Jeezzus H. Christ! I just got off work, give me a few minutes to wind down."

After a long silence Jazz finally had the images of the dead girl out of her head and rolled the window up.

"No. There's no fucking way," she declared.

"Oh come on Jazz, please?"

"Get a book or something."

"Damnit Jazz, you know that isn't going to help," Regina pouted.

"And I am? Earth to ditzy blonde, I'm a lesbian, I know fuck all about how top a guy," Jasmine said in exasperation.

"I know even less, but it's what Steve needs. He's been hinting for weeks, even bout me a crop and leather bustier."

Jazz had a girl, well, kinda, but the thought of the tall blonde in a leather bustier sent an electric thrill through her. They were best friends and all, but she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit she had dreamed of bedding Gina on more than one occasion.

Jazz sighed heavily, "You don't know what you're asking for."

"Yes I do, I just want you to teach me to be a top."

"What do you want me to do, bring you over and let you hide in the closet while me and Trish make out?" she snarled. It came out much harsher than she meant for it to and she immediately felt like a heel.

"Look baby," she began in a softer tone, "You don't just wake up one day and decide you're gonna be a domme. About the only way to learn to be a top, is to be topped by a good one. I haven't been part of the scene since I started working here. I don't even know a dom I trust to recommend you hook up with if you're dead set on this."

"I couldn't do that. It would be cheating."

"Yeah, well, if you aren't content to learn from a book or online or something, the only way you are going to learn is by doing. I'm not trying to dissuade you, I'm just telling it like it is."

The rest of the drive was made in silence. Jazz was still trying to drive the pictures from her head, before she got home. Regina seemed deep in thought, but what she was thinking, Jazz had no idea.

***

Jazz sat at her desk, rocking ever so slightly. The lab report was back on the gun and ballistics were inconclusive. What was for sure was that the bullets used in this one were the same as in the last fifteen, Remington Super-Xs. The press had dubbed him the I-95 killer, the populace was in a panic, the higher ups were breathing down everyone's neck, and still they had no solid leads. Her suggestion that they call the FBI had met a stony silence from the boss. He had been even less hospitable when she put the recommendation in writing so it was on the record.

Jazz didn't give a shit. Some sicko was out there, killing young girls, and she wasn't about to let interdepartmental rivalry contribute to him staying on the streets. Like so many cases before this, she had let herself become involved. Trish had moved in with a woman named Allison, leaving only a note and her portion of the rent. Jazz didn't blame her, she knew she was too deeply involved, spending days on end in her office pouring over reports she had read a dozen times. Looking for something she just knew she was missing. Some tiny scrap of information that seemed inconsequential, but would tie all the victims together somehow and give them a starting place.

"Jazz?"

She looked up to see Regina standing in the doorway. They hadn't seen much of each other since the evening they had talked. The killings had put everyone on edge and while she hated it, all of her relationships suffered when she got like this.

"Hey, Girl," Jazz said, hearing the exhaustion in her own voice.

When did I last sleep, she wondered.

"You look like shit, when was the last time you slept?" the blonde asked, as if reading her mind.

"I was just wondering that. I don't know. It's been a while."

Jazz started to stand, but felt dizzy and fell back into her chair. Regina was across the room in a flash, steadying the shorter woman as she strove to stand.

"Good lord, you're going to kill yourself."

Jazz only protested feebly as Regina lead her out to her car. The blonde managed to get Jazz into the passenger seat and buckled herself into the driver's seat. Jazz didn't remember the ride home, or Gina helping her to bed, or anything else.

When she finally woke, she found sunlight streaming into her bedroom. It took her a while to piece together that she was home. She threw the covers off, and got up. Jazz was brushing her teeth when she realized she was naked, not that that was unusual, she slept in the buff, but she wondered if she had stripped or if Regina had undressed her. When she came out of the bathroom, Jazz heard the TV, so she tossed on an old robe before walking out. Regina was sitting on the sofa, wrapped up in blankets and watching the television. It was obvious she had slept there, even without the extra pillows on the floor.

"Good afternoon, sleepy head," she said with a smile.

"Ugh. What afternoon?"

"Friday, you've been asleep about twenty hours."

"Fuck, I gotta get to the office."

"No you don't. You're off today and for the rest of the weekend. Captain's orders, so don't give me that look."

"What look?"

"The one where I feel like you're about to kill me and are just considering where to hide the body," she said with a small smile.

Despite herself Jazz laughed and realized just how long it had been since she laughed.

"Thanks for staying, let me get dressed and I'll run you home."

"If it's all right with you, I'd rather stay. Steve is working a tough case and...things haven't been good lately."

"Obsessing about the case?" Jazz asked as she sat next to Regina.

"No...I caught him with a hooker...escort...whatever you want to call it. He said he was sorry...that he loved me...but...but I just can't give him what he needs," she ended before breaking down in tears.

Jazz tentatively reached out, and then held her as the tall woman sobbed on her shoulder. Jasmine became aware of just how soft and ripe her best friend's body was. She inwardly cursed herself for noticing that, when she should have been offering support, but she couldn't help it. Her skin was so soft and pale, so pale that Jazz could see the veins underneath, and she smelled faintly of strawberries. Her hair was long, thick, shiny, and softly sensuous to the touch.

Jazz felt herself getting hot and it troubled her on several levels. The first was the most worrisome, this was a friend in a bad way and even thinking about taking advantage went against her grain. She just wasn't built that way, but here she was, wondering what Regina looked like naked.

Jazz also had a strict personal rule about friends, she had turned down sympathy fucks on several occasions, not because she didn't need one, but because a friendship got messy when you started fucking each other. She didn't have enough friends to risk loosing one over sex.

Then too, Gina was married. Jazz avoided married women like the plague. A lot of her girlfriends loved married women. Free sex, no responsibilities, expectations or attachments. Jazz's only experience with a married woman had been when she was just eighteen, and the bitch's husband had nearly killed them both.

Lying to yourself she thought as she rocked her sobbing friend. Well, not lying, all of that was true, but it wasn't the real reason she kept Regina at arms length. The real reason was the color of her skin. This was still the south and while it wasn't the south of her mother, it was still not the most progressive place on earth. Being a dyke here was hard. Being a black dyke was even harder. A black dyke with a white girlfriend? That took solid brass balls. But a black top with a white bottom? That was just begging for every redneck in the state to come down on you. Jazz didn't need the aggravation and so she had never been with a white girl. What really scared her shitless here was that she knew she could fall for her friend, really bad if she let herself. That's what was really bothering her.

"Jazz, please, you've got to help me," the blonde pleaded.

When Jazz looked into her eyes, she knew she couldn't refuse. She took a deep breath and stood up, walking away from the sofa and looking out the window. It was raining, and overcast. She thought a while before she said anything.

"Girl, you don't know what you're asking of me. Don't interrupt!" she commanded when Regina tried to speak.

"You want to be topped? Fine, I'll top you. I'll show you the ropes as best I can, but if you say yes, we're gonna play my way. So the ground rules are simple, I say, you do, you don't, you get punished. You say the word Steve, we'll stop right there, but you do that, I take you home and you never mention this again. Agreed?"

"I don't know," Gina replied meekly.

"You don't know?" Jazz said, turning to face her friend.

"You sound so angry. I...I really want to do this, but...not if you are gonna be so upset."

Jazz smiled and shook her head.

"You have no idea do you?"

"Idea?"

"You're gorgeous honey. And sweet and sexy, everything a woman could want. I'm not angry with you, sweetheart. I'm just afraid that I'll loose you as a friend if this doesn't work out and I'm angry at the circumstances."

"Loose me as a friend? Don't be silly. You're doing me a favor, I swear it won't affect our friendship, I swear it Jazz."

"You never know honey, I have seen too many friends get freaked out over sex, I don't want to loose you to that."

"You won't. Promise. So where do we start?"

Jazz stood up and walked into her bedroom. She returned and tossed a small leather case to Gina before sitting down again.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

Jazz watched Gina's face as she opened the case and then burst out laughing.

"You're a hoot Gina, what were you expecting? Titty clamps and a collar?"

The blonde blushed furiously and lowered her eyes, mumbling something Jazz didn't catch. The black woman fished into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a bottle of clear nail polish and handed it to Gina. She then gently pushed the tall woman off the sofa and put her feet in the blonde's lap.

"Get to work babe. Do the cuticles and clip 'em, then polish." Jazz said as she grabbed the remote and flipped to a movie channel.

She didn't really care what was on, she just snuggled back into the pile of covers and closed her eyes. Having her nails done was something she found really sensuous and knowing it was Gina, that took it to another level. Even the pain was good, but when the blonde began brushing on the polish, Jazz moaned softly.

She moved her leg slightly, allowing the robe to fall open and then watched through slitted eyelids to see Gina's reaction. The tall woman didn't seem to notice at first, she was gently blowing on Jasmine's nails when she happened to look up. Here eyes went wide and she wrinkled her nose. It was so cute Jazz almost laughed, but she managed to keep it inside. Gina went back to concentrating on her feet, but she would occasionally, surreptitiously glance at Jazz's pussy.

"Done," she said softly.

"Mmmmm, do love having my nails done. You got your credit card with you?"

"Yes, why?"

"Limit?" Jazz replied, ignoring her question.

"American express."

"Great. Wiggle your ass into the bedroom and get showered and dressed, we're going shopping," Jazz said as she stood and walked into the kitchen.

She felt Gina watching her, but the blonde eventually shrugged and started towards the bedroom.

"Gina!"

"What?"

"I said wiggle your ass girl. When you walk around me I want a nice seductive wiggle, if I don't get it, I'll be more inclined to paddle your ass than tap it, got it?" Jazz said sternly.

She hung her head, blushing furiously, but when she moved off Jazz smiled, watching that soft plump ass moving as she walked.

***

The sun had just set when Jazz pulled up and parked in front of Ty-locks. The place hadn't changed much in the couple of years since she had been here last. Blank exterior, glass door and two display windows. The first held mannequins in lingerie, paddles, crops, hand cuffs, the usual stuff. The second was the hardcore stuff, gas masks, enema bags, PVC bondage suits, adult diapers, pretty much the whole fetish gamut. Jazz had seen it all before, but Gina was like a spectator at a train wreck, unable to look away, even though she seemed to want to.

"All right Gina, follow me, stay about two paces behind me. I want you to look at everything, but don't stare at anyone. We're only going to pick up a few minor things for you, but if you are going to play domme, you'll need more eventually. I'm going to introduce you to Ty, be polite and for gods sake don't make a scene. You can pick up cheap bondage gear and fetish stuff online, but I wouldn't go that route. Build a relationship with Ty and she'll special order anything you want she doesn't carry."

Gina nodded and followed Jazz into the store. It was early, which was good, the real hardcore crowd wouldn't be out till late. Jazz had counted on that, she didn't really want to throw Gina to the wolves. Ty saw her coming and came out around from the counter. She was a short woman of Asian extraction, and wore only a red thong and push up bra with a filmy black robe.

"Jazz, so good to see you," she said as they hugged.

"Good to see you too Ty, how's business?"

"Same, same, everyone want good stuff, no one want to pay for it," she replied in her singsong voice.

She was smiling at Jazz, but looking past the short black woman at the tall blonde.

"New pussy?" Jazz winced and Gina went scarlet from the top of her head to at least where her blouse covered her chest.

"Yeah. Gina meet Ty, Ty, this is Gina."

The small woman stepped around Jazz and boldly examined Gina, who seemed to be totally at a loss.

"Nice. Show me the goods," the small woman demanded. Gina looked at Jazz with deer in the headlight eyes and a shocked expression on her face.

"Show her your tits," Jazz ordered.

For a second she felt sure Gina would refuse, but she hung her head and meekly unbuttoned her white blouse. She wore a white satin bra that seemed to be glued to her breasts. Gina caught the tops of the satin cups and dutifully pulled them down beneath her heaving breasts. They were pert and firm, conical with puffy aureoles and fat nipples. Jazz felt her own nipples hardening, she had to admit they looked edible. Ty laughed and pulled her own bra down, smiling when Gina gasped at the sight of the golden hoop through each.

"All you American girls, big titties," Ty said before turning back to Jazz, "So what you need?"

"She needs the basics Ty, cuffs, a crop, boots, a collar, male chastity belt, that sorta shit,"

"Male?"

"Yeah, she's learning the ropes, her husband's a bottom,"

"Ohhh, I see, well, come with me girlie, Ty will take care of you," the small woman said, grabbing Gina's hand and leading her off.

Jazz meandered through the racks, examining this and that, mostly killing time. Ty would know best what Gina needed. Despite her pidgeon English she was uncannily intelligent. Jazz had no doubt that Gina would end up telling the small woman everything and she knew too that Ty would make sure she got exactly what she would need for Steve.

Jazz also had to consider what she would need for the weekend, besides a lot of restraint and plenty of Captain Morgan's. Her real problem was that she knew nothing about Gina's body, her sexuality or her kinks. In the same way she compartmentalized everything she had shoved the tall blonde into the hopelessly straight and off limits category and had really made herself intentionally ignorant.