Farewell, My Sweet

CW: Nonconsent, impregnation

--

The dame swept into my office like a hurricane - she looked about ready to tear the roof off, and she got me wet pretty quick, too.

She was tall and slender, with pale skin and black hair that had been styled once but now fell wild around her shoulders. Her eyes were dark blue like a churning ocean, which matched her expression. She slipped her raincoat off and tossed it onto my coat hook, revealing a dress that might have heard of the concept of modesty at a party once. I kept my eyes off of her generous cleavage, the curve of her hip, and the line of her lower thigh, although my peripheral vision worked overtime. Instead I looked her in the eye, taking in her expression of simmering anger, and waited for her to speak.

"I need your help, Miss Harrison."

I nodded. "That's what I'm here for, miss..."

"Claire," she said. "Claire Cane."

"Well, why don't you have a seat and tell me what the difficulty is," I said. "Do you want a drink?"

She narrowed her eyes. Suspicion seemed to come naturally to her, but then again it suited her features. "Do you keep drinks in your office?"

"Sometimes a client needs to calm their nerves before they tell me their problem," I said. Sometimes I needed it, too, but I wasn't about to tell Claire so.

"I'd rather keep my nerves as they are," she said. She took a seat facing me, and drew a deep breath. "A man has been...stalking me for several days. He's trying to steal a jade necklace, one that belonged to my grandmother."

"How do you know that's what he's after?"

"He told me so."

"He spoke to you?" I asked.

She blushed, as much in anger as in shame. "He did more than just speak to me."

I nodded, fairly certain I knew what was coming next - her assailant, likely. "Why don't you tell me everything that happened. Start at the beginning."

She nodded, and began.

--

I'd been suspicious that someone was following me for several days before the event. Last Friday, I saw a tall blond man walking some distance behind me as I left a party, and something about his manner made me wonder if he was following me. I hopped in a taxi and left, and at first I thought I was merely being paranoid.

The next day, though, I noticed a gray car following me as I took a drive along the coast. The traffic thinned out just past the point, and the car stayed behind me for miles. I pulled off and turned around, and as I did I caught sight of the driver. It was the same man who'd been walking behind me the night before - wavy blond hair, gray eyes, a well-trimmed goatee. He saw me, too, and narrowed his eyes before I pulled back onto the road and floored it back to the city.

I spoke to the police, Miss Harrison, but they told me that no crime had been committed. Besides, they said, I was well-known as someone who attended parties, gambling halls, and other such establishments, so I had little repute to trade on. I knew they would be useless.

I considered staying in and waiting for him to lose interest, but I couldn't bear the thought of letting him dictate what I did with my nights. So I went to a party at the Rickenbaugh estate, up on the hills above the city. I drank, and I danced, and I let myself believe once again that the man had gone.

I was only mostly sober when I returned home in the early hours of the morning. I stumbled inside, locking the door behind me, and walked into my bedroom. I kicked my heels off, and slipped out of my dress. I undid my bra, and slid my panties down.

You may accuse me of vanity, but I caught sight of my full-length mirror and stepped closer to it. I only had a moment to appreciate my body, though, before I saw the man standing in my doorway.

I turned, covering myself as best I could with my hands. "What are you doing?" I demanded. "Get out!"

"Eventually," he said. "But first I want that jade necklace you've got hidden somewhere around here. You know the one."

I raised my chin. "You'll get nothing."

He smiled. "I'll get something, one way or another," he said. He cast aside his trenchcoat, revealing his naked form, and rushed at me.

I am not a pugilist, Miss Harrison. I have no training as a fighter. But I fought as best I could. I scratched him across the face, and landed a kick that would have neutered him if it had landed a bit closer.

He grabbed my wrists, though, and turned me to face away from him. I could see us both in the full-length mirror - my arms pinned at my sides and my bosom heaving as I struggled in his grasp, his strong arms wrapped around me. I could feel his manhood pressing against my backside, and feel the warmth of his breath against my neck.

"Come on now, doll," he said, as his left hand moved down along my hip. "If you don't tell me where the treasure is, I'll have to go looking for it myself."

I suppose I could have given him a false location, and hoped that it would buy me enough time. But in the moment, it didn't occur to me. I was overcome with anger that he'd try to take anything from me, whether it was a touch or an heirloom, and I wanted to spit in his eye.

"You'll never find anything, you crumb," I hissed.

"Let's find out," he said, and slid his hand down.

His arm kept me pinned tightly against him as his fingers slid through my bush and reached my lips. I squirmed, but I couldn't move far. I watched helplessly in the mirror as he leaned over my shoulder and looked down my front, watching my chest move and my legs kick as I struggled in vain.

"Oh," he said softly. I must admit that, after a night of drinking and dancing, I was already primed, and in spite of my anger the sensation of his stiffening cock pressed against me was stirring me further. He ran his fingers along my lips, and in spite of his brutish behavior he seemed to know what he was doing.

"Shh," he said softly, his fingers gently parting my lips as they moved. I squirmed, and he tightened his grip, keeping me still as he worked. I fought, but I must admit that my body was eager to cooperate with him. Before long I could feel myself getting quite wet, my body happy at the prospect of the sort of companionship I hadn't given it at the party. In the mirror, my blush had spread from my cheeks down my neck and onto my chest. I hissed, gritting my teeth, and I felt him smile against my neck.

"It's alright if you like it," he said.

"I'll plug you the instant I get the chance," I said. I wasn't in a position to make threats--I could see my naked body in the mirror, held in place, defenseless against his explorations--but I was determined to fight him at every turn.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight of my body, then grinned. "Not if I plug you first."

I screamed, but even if my neighbors heard they didn't do anything about it. He dragged me toward the bed and threw me onto it. Before I could escape he was straddling me, his hands reaching for my wrists as I tried to push him away. I scrabbled for purchase against my soft sheets, trying to push myself away, but in a moment he had my arms pinned to the pillow.

I gasped for breath, my breasts pressing against his chest. Slowly and carefully, he slid his knee between my legs and pried them apart. He shifted, his hard cock pressing against my belly for a moment as he moved between my legs.

"Stop!" I cried. I looked up at where he gripped my wrists, then down at his cock, and finally up at his face. He was waiting, giving me a moment to tell him where the necklace was hidden before he ravished me, and even though I was desperate to stop him I couldn't give him that satisfaction either.

He could see it all in my face - he knew I wasn't about to tell him. So, without a word, he pressed forward, his hard cock reaching my lips and parting them.

"No!" I cried. He didn't seem to be in a hurry. He pressed in and drew back, each stroke moving him just a bit deeper and giving my pussy time to accommodate him. A part of me wanted to look down at where he was entering me, but I couldn't take my eyes off of his face. He made no effort to conceal his pleasure - I could see it in the corners of his eyes and in his open mouth - but he hadn't stopped watching me, either. A better thief would have used my shock to make me talk, but he was just making sure he wasn't going too quickly.

"Oh, doll," he gasped. I panicked for a moment, wondering if he was about to blow, but his breathing was too even. "You feel so good."

"Let me go," I said, my voice wavering.

"I will," he said. "But you've gotta give me something."

I roared at him. I couldn't think of a word to say, but I couldn't stay silent. I twisted in his grasp, trying to roll my hips away and accomplishing nothing but making him feel strong. He watched me, then shrugged as best he could.

"Or I can keep giving you something," he said. I glared at him, but my anger didn't seem to bother him. Instead, he turned his attention to my pleasure.

It wasn't clear that that was his goal, at first. He looked down, watching my breasts heaved and my hips buck as I struggled against him. Unwittingly, I followed his gaze down, and watched his hard shaft thrust into my helpless cunt, my wet lips welcoming him each time. For the first few moments, I thought he was just enjoying the view.

It wasn't until I gasped in pleasure as he rolled his hips against mine, and he shifted his hips to follow the motion, that I realized what he was doing. I squealed and tried to twist my hips away, but he set his hand on my side to keep me in place.

"Struggle if you need to," he breathed. "It still tells me what you like."

"Bastard!" I cried. I tried to give him a defiant look, and I suppose for a moment I succeeded. But he met my gaze, and held it as he moved. His hips rocked down, pressing against my pearl as he drove his cock inside me. With every thrust my eyes opened wider, and my mouth made more of an O, until I had to struggle again just to remind him which team I was on.

"There you are," he said. "If you wanna wait to tell me where the necklace is until after you cum, that'd be fine."

"I won't tell you!" I cried.

"We'll find out," he said.

I tried to fight it, Miss Harrison. I wanted him to get nothing from me. But my body didn't care what I wanted. My pussy had gotten wet for him, and was flooding my nerves with pleasure each time he thrust into me. My pussy wanted to welcome him, and hold him tightly, and urge him to leave me a new houseguest, and she wasn't taking no for an answer any more than he was.

I gasped as I felt my pulse rising. I glanced around, trying to find a way out or even an escape from the pleasure, and found nothing. I could see my chest heaving as I tried to draw enough breath. I saw his hips rising and falling as his cock plunged into me, his thighs pressing against mine and keeping my legs parted. His hands kept a firm but not painful grip on my wrists, keeping them pressed against the pillow. I had no way to escape him or the pleasure he gave me.

"Let me go," I gasped. I could hear my voice wavering, and I knew he could hear it too.

He only smiled at me, as though his whole plan had involved me refusing to tell him so that he could drive me to climax. Perhaps he'd hoped for it. It enraged me all over again. My body couldn't tell the difference between anger and excitement, and I felt myself pass the point of no return.

I tried to hold it in, keep it bottled up so that he wouldn't know he'd won, but it was hopeless. He knew it from the moment I stiffened up in a vain attempt to force the pleasure down. He watched me as I struggled frantically in his grasp, watched my expression as I pitched from stubborn determination into helplessness.

I shook my head and cried out as the ecstasy washed over me, unable to tear my eyes away from him. He smiled as he felt my pussy frantically squeezing his cock. I felt my hips bucking against his, felt my back arching as the pleasure overwhelmed me. He kept his rhythm, pressing against me and listening as my climax overwhelmed every bit of my control.

I gasped and tried to gather myself up. He was still watching me, taking note of my expression as I tried to reassert control. I wanted to say something biting, but for a long moment I was too awash in pleasure to make any sound other than an outraged moan.

I shook my head, after a long moment. "I won't tell you," I panted.

"That's alright," he said. I realized that his pace hadn't faltered, and he was still thrusting deeply into me. "I don't think I'd be able to stop if you did."

The implications hit me - he didn't have a rubber. There was nothing to stop him from filling my pussy with his seed.

"No," I gasped. I looked down at his hard cock as it slid in and out of my bare pussy, glistening with my wetness. I could feel his balls slapping against me with each deep stroke, ready to fill me up.

"Yes," he groaned. "Oh, you're so pretty. You struggle pretty, and you cum pretty. How could I resist you?"

I renewed my struggles, no matter how pretty he thought they were. But my muscles were dulled by my climax, and his were energized by the prospect of seeding me. My wrists stayed pinned against the pillow, and the desperate twisting of my hips had no effect other than making him moan in pleasure.

"Stop it," I moaned. "You can't!"

"I can," he replied. "You just watch me."

I didn't mean to do as he said, Miss Harrison. I tried to look anywhere else - at the headboard to see if there was anything I could grab, at the doorway in hopes that someone had heard me, at the ceiling in hopes of sending my mind elsewhere. But I could hear his unraveling control in his ragged breath, and feel his pace growing more frantic, and I couldn't look away.

I looked down, trying to find a way to stop him. I could see my breasts bouncing with his thrusts, and see his hips rise and fall as he plunged into me. His hair pressed into mine as our hips met, my wet cunt eagerly taking his shaft as deep as it could go. His body was inexorable, beyond my power to stop.

So, I had nowhere else to look but his face. He caught my eye and held it, and I watched his pleasure rising along with his pace. My expression was a mess - exhaustion, and anger, but more and more silent pleading as I felt him draw closer.

He didn't look smug, or even stoic, as he gasped with rising pleasure. He looked as helpless as I was, as if his desires were sweeping him away and he could do nothing to stop them. He stared into my eyes and let me see every moment of his rise.

"No," I moaned.

"Oh, yes," he gasped. "Oh, Claire. Yes!"

Our words foundered as he reached his peak. He cried out with each desperate stroke, giving voice to his primal joy as he claimed my womb. I squealed in outrage tinged with lust as I felt him thrust into me, and felt his cock twitching as wave after wave of his cum flowed into my helpless pussy. Whether we wanted to resist or not, our bodies were doing what they were made to do. He was claiming me as his, marking my body with his seed, and in spite of my struggles my body was taking it, eager to surrender to his genes.

"Oh, yes," he panted, trying to catch his breath as his pleasure began to recede. I squirmed, feeling the fading pulses of his cock as it sent the last of his seed into my fertile cunt.

"Cad," I whimpered.

He didn't reply for a long moment. He leaned on me, his sweaty chest pressed against mine, until he'd caught his breath and his cock had given me everything he had. Eventually, though, he rose up and looked me in the eye.

"You just think about it, doll," he said. "Give me the necklace, or we can keep meeting like this. Let me know which you'd like when I come back."

He climbed off of me. I backed up, unsure of what his next move would be. But all he did was throw his coat on and walk out. By the time I mustered the courage to check the door, he'd climbed into the passenger seat of a car, and he was driving off into the night.

--

"I came to find you not long after," she concluded.

"I'm glad you did," I said. Plenty of dames would have been in hysterics or helpless after that kind of ordeal, but Claire was keeping it together well. I wished I could do more than try to get to the bottom of it, but that was all I could do.

"I'll do what I can," I said.

"I haven't given you much to work with," she said.

I raised a hand and ticked off the clues we had so far. "He's left-handed. He knows your name, and knows that you have this necklace hidden somewhere."

She nodded. "I didn't think anyone knew about it, once my grandmother had passed."

"What's it look like?"

"It's carved pearls of crimson jade," she said. "Fine detail work. No idea what it's worth, but my grandmother loved it."

"He must think it's worth something."

Claire crossed her arms. "I'm less worried about what he thinks and more about whether you can find him and shoot him. Or arrest him, if necessary."

I considered telling her that that wasn't how investigations worked, or that this would be a difficult and dangerous process, or that I wasn't going to kill if I could avoid it. But I wanted to reassure her, more than I wanted to give her the harsh truth. I put a hand on her shoulder, which in her dress was more friendly of a gesture than I'd expected, but I didn't pull back.

"I'll take care of it, Miss Cane," I said. "You can count on me."

--

We drove up to her house later that day. I'd called my sister-in-law and asked her to watch my daughter for at least a night. She'd reminded me of the foolishness of my line of work, but she'd said yes.

Her house was a small single-level place up in the hills. A row of trees stood between it and the steeper hillside behind, and a well-trimmed hedge separated it from the neighboring houses and from the street. It was clean but not obsessively so, and pleasant without much that set it apart. It didn't quite seem to fit her.

"Did your grandmother leave you the house, too?" I asked.

"Yes," Claire said. "And she had few guests, so I don't know how anyone learned of the necklace."

We stepped inside. I walked from window to window, and found none of the latches opened. I wondered if Claire's assailant could have acquired a key somehow.

"Did your grandma give a key to any neighbors?" I asked.

Claire shook her head quickly. "She was very private. But I'll have a locksmith come anyway."

I nodded. "That should buy us time," I said. "Now, is the necklace on the property, or do we need to guard it too?"

I watched her carefully. She glanced towards the end of the hallway, so quickly that she probably didn't know she'd done it. She looked at me, and shook her head.

"It's in a safe deposit box," she said.

I thought about calling her on it right then. Sometimes the straight question is the best answer. But the ravishment was what she'd hired me to solve, and the necklace was small compared to that. Besides, I could understand why she didn't want to tell anyone, given what one gap in her secrecy had gotten her so far. So I nodded and started checking the locks.

--

He didn't come back the next day. The locksmith showed up and changed all of the locks, and still we had no sign of him.

I took a step outside, letting Claire lock the door behind me. Her yard was small but well-kept, and the hedge made it difficult for anyone on the outside to see much.

As I glanced up at the top of the hedge, I caught sight of a figure peeking over the top, with blonde curls and a set of binoculars. She squeaked when I caught sight of her, then tumbled off of the rooftop she'd been climbing on. I dashed forward and caught her before she hit the grass.

"I wasn't spying!" she insisted, as I got a better look at her. She was short and slender, with dimples and blonde curls that Shirley Temple could've taken lessons from. This girl certainly had more noticeable curves than Shirley, but she still couldn't be much older than eighteen.