A Dish Best Served Cold Ch. 03

"Glad to be of help. I hope you get everything you deserve. You are beautiful," Penelope kissed Melissa one last time and then she jogged away back the way they had come.

*****

Felicity Benson looked at herself in the mirror and applied the last touches to her makeup. She was in a suite at the Lancaster Hotel in Houston. Felicity was guest hosting at Hamburger Mary's all week but to her it was just a legitimate excuse to make the trip to Houston. When Panti Down had offered Felicity the gig she had seen it as her destiny, her opportunity to continue her reign of revenge.

Finding Benjamin Roach and Jamaal Washington on Secret Singles had been easy and any caution she thought they might have exercised after the demise of their friend Spencer Duvall in suspicious circumstances had been thrown to the wind when she had DM'd them both to see if they were interested in a threesome. Maybe they thought that they were safe in Houston or maybe they were just stupid; it didn't matter to Felicity, she was more concerned with how she was going to take down two strong healthy men.

Jamaal booked a room at a fleabag hotel just outside of the city. It was a place where the men regularly took women they intended to use either with or without their consent. Predators such as they were creatures of habit. It was far enough out of town to be discreet as both Benjamin and Jamaal were married and well known amongst Houston's high society. It was something they were used to doing; something they had control over and they were comfortable with the situation.

Felicity drove her rental to the no-tell motel and parked across the road at a road-side diner and truck stop. She doubted the motel had surveillance cameras but you could never be too sure. She flicked open her burner phone and sent a text to Jamaal 'I'm here honey'. He texted back immediately 'room 102'.

She knocked on the door to room 102 to find Benjamin and Jamaal dressed only in their jockey shorts. They were both sporting erections in anticipation.

"Come in gorgeous, long time no see," Jamaal grinned.

Felicity had set up a bogus profile on Secret Singles identifying herself as a trans woman and when Ben and Jamaal had responded positively to her DMs she had told them that she had been with them both a long time ago in college. They too were using fake names but they had posted real pictures of themselves in their profiles. It was common practice on a website specifically designed for cheaters.

Felicity had reminded them both of the time they had held her captive in their frat house and ravaged her. She had told them that she had been ashamed that she had enjoyed what happened to her and had been secretly fantasising about it for all these years. When she found them with linked profiles on Secret Singles she was surprised but elated and really wanted to do it all again.

They had taken the bait. Men were so stupid. They thought with their dicks and any form of flattery and the anticipation of a fine piece of ass was enough for them to throw caution to the wind.

Felicity was wearing a black mini-skirted cocktail dress, flesh-toned sheer pantyhose and fuck-me heels. She had tucked her natural hair under a stocking cap and wore a flaming-red lace-front bouffant wig. Being a drag queen was license to slip in and out of disguise. Her makeup was heavy and provocative: overdone eyeliner and mascara, 301 false eyelashes, glitter eyeshadow, red rouge and bright red lipstick. She looked more like a hooker than a drag queen which was exactly the effect she was looking for. It made her look slutty but also acted as a form of disguise if she were seen.

The men reached for her but Felicity evaded them long enough to carefully put her purse down on the coffee table. She did not want them to hear the clunk as she lowered her black clutch onto the glass-topped table.

Felicity turned around and opened her arms invitingly and the two men grabbed her and threw her on the bed. They wasted no time; they were horny and impatient for relief. Felicity had promised them that she would stay the night so they could take their time defiling her but for now they wanted instant gratification and Felicity was more than willing to give it to them.

The expectation and anticipation of taking revenge on her assailants had for some reason made her incredibly horny.

"I knew that you really liked what we did to you all those years ago," Benjamin Roach grinned at her as he shucked out of his underpants.

"You squealed like a whore when I was fuckin' your ass bitch! You was begging for it," Jamaal Washington grinned just as stupidly as he dropped his drawers to reveal a magnificent erect cock.

"Stop bragging and get on this bed and fuck me!" felicity hiked up her dress to show that she was wearing no panties under her sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose.

Ben climbed on first. He was still the leader of the gang and took his spoils first. He pinned Felicity to the bed and lay on top of her kissing her and ripping open the bodice of her dress so he could get to her breasts. He fondled them roughly as he drove his tongue into her mouth.

"Let me get out of this dress," Felicity struggled underneath him and he relented.

He and Jamaal pulled the dress over her head, tossed it aside and began to ravage her.

Jamaal put his arm under her waist and positioned her on her hands and knees, pushing down on the small of her back so that Felicity's ass was raised while Benjamin scooted around front of her on his knees so that his crotch was level with her face. Felicity smiled when Jamaal ripped open her pantyhose. She knew that her pink puckered bud, glistening with the lubricant she had put there, would look inviting to Jamaal.

She felt him nestle his glans in her crinkle and braced as Jamaal gripped her shoulders and thrust.

She wanted to scream but when Felicity opened her mouth, Benjamin stuffed his engorged phallus into it. Jamaal was at least considerate enough to let Felicity get used to accommodating his huge organ and while she did so she softly suckled Benjamin's cock, lapping at the precum dribbling from the eye.

Felicity signalled that she was ready by wriggling her buttocks and Jamaal began to slowly fuck her, his cock lighting up her pleasure centres.

"Damn bitch, you still tight!" Jamaal sighed.

"She knows how to suck a cock too," Benjamin said as Felicity used her mouth expertly on his throbbing penis.

"I'm gonna cum man! She's too tight and I'm too horny," Jamaal groaned.

"Come in me! Come in me you black stallion! Fuck me hard! We got all night so you can do it again and again if you wanna but I wanna feel your hot jizz in my ass now!" Felicity goaded him, wriggling her buttocks invitingly, clenching her anus around his shaft.

She slavered on Ben's cock and felt it begin to quiver and she knew that he was close to extremis too. Felicity would never admit to anyone how decadently wanton and impassioned she felt being defiled by these two big men. She hated them with all her heart but they elicited carnal desires that ran deep.

"Oh god!" Jamaal gripped Felicity's hips and drove his cock all the way inside her and she felt it engorge to the point where she thought it would tear her ass apart and then she felt it begin to judder as Jamaal blasted her anus with steady streams of hot spend.

At the same time Ben spewed his issue into her mouth, filling her cheeks as she struggled to swallow the salty splooge. Felicity orgasmed without even touching herself; filling the gusset of her pantyhose with creamy semen. She bucked and pushed back against Jamaal whilst slavering at Ben's cock, draining every drop of his issue.

Felicity collapsed under the weight of Jamaal's body and Ben's cock slipped from her mouth. Jamaal ground himself against Felicity's body until the last of his load was expended in her bowels and then lay on top of her exhausted.

Ben climbed off the bed and put on his jockeys and Felicity heard the clink of glass as he poured drinks. Jamaal lay on top of her panting, trying to catch his breath, his cock still buried inside her but beginning to deflate. When he pushed himself up off her she was grateful; she could finally breathe without struggling. She felt Jamaal's cum dribble from her sphincter and run down her thighs onto the sheets.

She rolled over to see Ben sitting in a scarred chair sipping bourbon and Jamaal, still naked, cutting lines of cocaine on the glass top table.

Felicity pushed herself off the bed and went over to the table and picked up her clutch.

"You wanna drink or a couple of lines?" Ben asked.

"I sure do but let me fix my makeup and clean up a little. It's going to be a long night," Felicity smiled down at him and then lowered her face to his and kissed him passionately.

"It sure is honey and I'm fucking you next. I want you to film that for me Jamaal. I want a souvenir of me fucking the hot tranny," Ben chuckled.

Felicity ignored him and went into the bathroom and locked the door.

She looked at her face in the mirror and was disgusted with what she saw. Hate and self-loathing surfaced from deep inside her. It festered and boiled over until the mirror clouded in a crimson mist and she could hardly breathe; her body was shaking as if she had palsy. She forced herself to take deep breaths and get her breathing under control and the shaking stopped, which was just as well.

There was no way she was going to be able to physically overcome the men waiting outside for her and even they wouldn't be stupid enough to let her use the handcuffs on them that she had seen in the carrybag full of sex toys they had emptied on the couch.

Felicity unzipped her clutch and removed the Glock 42 .380 from inside it. The gunsmith had told her that it was an extremely compact pocket pistol; an ideal weapon for a woman to carry in her purse. He had rubbed his body against hers when he took her out back to the two-lane indoor range where he taught her to shoot the gun one handed.

"Look it doesn't have the stopping power of larger calibre pistols and you only have six in the mag and one in the chamber but for close-range self-defence it will do fine if you get in close and double-tap the mother fucker," the gunsmith pumped her ass twice to emphasise his point.

Felicity gave him an inviting look and made him a proposition which if taken poorly would have ended up with her being in the back of a police cruiser in handcuffs but she was an excellent judge of character.

The gunsmith had locked the door to the range and Felicity had bent over the firing table and pulled her tight jeans down to her knees to facilitate access and the gunsmith had pulled aside her pretty pink panties and buggered her until he came.

In return she paid cash for the gun, ammunition, a spare magazine and a suppressor, without producing ID or filling in the Firearms Transaction Record or undergoing a background check. She knew that she had overpaid and had to put up with the sticky mess in her panties while she drove all the way back to Balwyn from San Antonio but she was satisfied with the transaction.

Felicity kicked off her high heels so that she would be steady on her feet. She screwed the suppressor to the barrel, took a deep breath and came out of the bathroom with the Glock extended as she had been taught. Benjamin and Jamaal were sitting side by side drinking and were taken completely by surprise when she put three rounds each into their centres of mass.

The gunshots weren't that loud but to Felicity they sounded like a cannon. She quickly checked the men's bodies, surprised at how little blood was visible on their torsos. She was no expert and couldn't be sure they were dead. She went back to the bathroom and took the spare magazine out of her clutch and slammed it into the Glock and came back out into the room and put the gun against Jamaal's temple and pulled the trigger twice. She did the same with Benjamin.

She felt no remorse whatsoever as she dressed, put on her heels, wiped down as many surfaces as she could and double-checked that she hadn't left anything behind. She took out her lipstick and went back into the bathroom to complete one final chore then she came back out. The motel room reeked of gunsmoke, sex, blood and booze. She opened the door a crack and seeing that the coast was clear she stepped outside. Halfway across the parking lot she passed a rat-faced seedy-looking man who leered at her but she ignored him.

She crossed the highway to the truck stop diner and drove back to the Lancaster Hotel where she went back to her room, showered and changed and was able to make the last show at Hamburger Mary's where she performed her gig without a hitch.

Driving back to Balwyn the next day she made a slight detour and tossed the gun, the spare magazine, the remaining ammunition and the suppressor into Lake Conroe along with the burner phone she had used to solicit the two men.

*****

Penelope and her team continued to work Spencer Duvall's murder. She had the two Steve's re-interview everyone and anyone who had anything to do with the case which gave them justification to swindle free drinks and food from the establishments they visited.

Steve Edwards was disappointed to find that Felicity Goodnite was not at Ride em' Cowgirl but away on tour. He interviewed another queen named Panti Down who was also a looker but she resisted his charms. Jill Graham the bartender stuck to her guns that Spencer had left the club alone after a couple of drinks.

Alice Leasingham, Silvia Bickle and Penelope Benson went back over all of the evidence they had. They were convinced that Spencer Duvall had been murdered by someone he had sexually assaulted. The forensic evidence from the crime scene suggested that was at least one woman present: the hair and the makeup they found attested to that along with the murder weapon being a nylon stocking. There was also another man present, evidenced by the non-secretor semen found at the scene.

The semen could have come from Benjamin Roach, Carl Huntley, Jamaal Washington, or William Turner but they were refusing to cooperate and their DNA and fingerprints were not on file except for Carl Huntley's which they then excluded.

Penelope was becoming convinced that there was another member of the fraternity at Spencer Duvall's house but she couldn't prove it. And if there was, why didn't he intervene or report the murder? Was he complicit? Had there been a falling out? She bounced these questions off Silvia Bickle who was as stymied as Penelope.

"What are you doing for dinner tonight girlfriend?" Silvia had that look about her that indicated to Penelope that she was in love... again.

"I don't know Silvia, what am I doing for dinner tonight?" Felicity baited her partner.

"You and Brad are joining me and my new girlfriend at Bentley's at seven thirty, that's what," Silvia smiled her sweetest smile.

"Yeah, we can do that. Should I bring a U-Haul or will your girlfriend bring her own?" Penelope ducked under the stapler that Silvia threw at her.

Silvia was living proof that the trope about lesbians falling in love and moving in with each other on the second date was true. She had been through a succession of live-in girlfriends ever since Penelope had met her. Not that Penelope could throw stones, she had been outwardly promiscuous until she had met Bradley Wilson and sobered up.

Penelope and Bradley were seated at their table at Bentley's patiently awaiting Silvia and her date. She was drinking a club soda and Bradley was drinking white wine. He had told Penelope that he was willing to give up alcohol all together if she found it uncomfortable but she told him she had the drinking problem not him. He should not deny himself the pleasure of having a drink just because she couldn't.

"Here they are. Jesus! What a stunner," Bradley exclaimed and nodded over Penelope's shoulder.

Penelope turned around and saw a tall thirty-something raven-haired woman in a black evening gown on the arm of Silvia Bickle. She was stunningly beautiful with blue eyes and full lips which were accentuated by red lipstick. It was Melissa Doyle.

Penelope was speechless and just jabbered incoherently when Silvia introduced her date. She gave Melissa a 'what-the-fuck?' look to which Melissa responded with a whimsical smile.

"Where did you two meet?" Penelope asked pointedly when they were settled and had ordered their entrees.

"Melissa teaches business administration and economics at the college but the staff gymnasium is undergoing repairs and I met her when she came to my gym," Sylvia squeezed Melissa's hand.

"It was a meet-cute. I literally bumped into her on my way to my spin class which it turned out she was also attending," Melissa smiled coyly.

"What a coincidence," Penelope returned Melissa's caustic grin.

When Melissa excused herself between courses to use the bathroom Penelope followed her. Checking that the stalls were vacant she pushed Melissa up against the wall.

"What the fuck Melissa? It was literally a one night stand!" Penelope hissed.

"I don't know what you mean Penelope? My meeting Silvia was a coincidence... a lovely coincidence," Melissa smiled down at Penelope.

"You just happen to start fucking my partner right after I fucked you in the park! You know you could get me fired? It was an informal interview but I was still interviewing you as a potential witness," Penelope said seriously.

"I suppose I could get you fired if anyone was to find out. You look beautiful tonight by the way. I love the way you're wearing your hair off one shoulder and that red dress is stunning. Very Jessica Rabbit," Melissa leaned in to kiss Penelope who turned away.

"What the fuck are you up to?" Penelope stepped back from Melissa.

"If I can't be with the woman I want I'll settle for being with her best friend," Melissa put a finger in her mouth and pouted.

"You're crazy," Penelope shook her head.

"You're not the first man or woman who has told me that. That's what I like about you Penelope. You have the beauty and the instincts of a woman but you have all of the functionality of a man," Melissa made a vain attempt to grab Penelope's crotch.

"Go and finish your dinner, we can catch up later," Melissa waggled her fingers at Penelope and went into one of the stalls and shut the door.

"Loopy cunt!" Penelope hissed and left the bathroom.

It was a week later that Gary Rasmussen called Penelope and said for her and Silvia to get their asses into his office. Houston PD had called him and told him that they had found Benjamin Roach and Jamaal Washington murdered in a sleazy hotel on the outskirts of the city.

*****

"Tough titty said the kitty," Steve Edwards said to Penelope and grinned.

She had been griping because Gary Rasmussen had told her take Detective Edwards instead of Silvia Bickle with her to Houston because Steve had connections there from his days serving in the Houston PD.

Silvia was even more pissed than Penelope because Melissa was attending a Law, Business, and Economics Workshop seminar at the University of Houston and she was hoping to catch up with her new lover but Gary Rasmussen had said a firm no. He wasn't paying his officers to take vacations he was paying them to investigate and Steve Edwards was better suited in this case because of his knowledge of local law enforcement.

"You'll be fed to the kitty if you don't get your fuckin' feet off my dash," Penelope pushed Steve's size nines off the BMW's dash.

She had elected to take her own car instead of one of Balwyn PD's ancient town cars.

Steve stretched his long legs and looked down at the file on his lap. Ordinarily this would have been an ideal ruse to stare at Penelope's long shapely pantyhose-clad legs but today was one of the rare occasions that she had elected to wear a pantsuit and he thought, rightly, that it might have something to do with him being her travelling companion. Back in her days of alcoholic promiscuity she vaguely remembered being bent over her car in the parking lot of The Longhorn, Balwyn city's cop bar, with Steve Edwards behind her lifting her skirt.