FPI -- Frilly Pantied Investigator / Chapter 3

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FPI -- Frilly Pantied Investigator / Chapter 3

Copyright 2019 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter, names are named, genders are reconsidered, and something ceramic tumbles to its doom.

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A harsh buzz was followed by several mechanical snicks. My hands tingled as blood rushed back into them, but they weren’t too numb to notice the velvety lining of the restraints as I drew my arms out.

Eager to take advantage of my freedom, I lurched forward. My headache followed, thundering like a bass drum being played from the inside. I wrapped my arms across my stomach when it sloshed like a sewer rat trying to claw out of a colostomy bag.

"What the heee--ello kitty did you drug me with?" I asked, scrambling to cover a swear word as my most recent meal tried to escape.

"Nothing to worry your pretty little head about,” said the annoyed voice of our captor through hidden speakers. In a more pleasant voice, she added, “While the sedative administered was powerful, it was precisely measured to last the specific amount of time needed, and the after-effects should fade after a minute or so. Just sit still, and you'll soon be ready for your party."

I wasn’t about to let a minor thing like vertigo get in my way, and leapt to my feet with cat-like reflexes. Unfortunately, it was a cat who's kibble had been spiked with one too many shots of whiskey, and I tumbled to the ground in a tangle of arms, legs, and petticoats.

I could hear a smile in the mistress’s voice as she said, “Tammy, would you be a lamb, and help your little friend to her feet?”

While struggling to find a less prone position, I noticed a soft, flowery scent. I turned towards the sweet aroma, and saw Barry crouching down beside me. “Take it slow", he said as he pulled my skirt back down below my waistline. In a much quieter voice he said, "I'm so, so sorry for getting you involved in this, Richard.”

Despite the murderous feelings I'd harbored in the past, it was difficult to apply those emotions to the kinder, gentler person who was helping me now. I reached up and brushed the bangs of his wig out of his eyes as I said, "It's Rebeccah."

His expression began changing from utter misery to much more utter confusion. I could almost smell the smoke from his brain straining to form a coherent thought before he finally said, "What?"

I allowed myself a small smile as I answered, "That's my name when I'm dressed like this, but you can call me Becky if you'd like."

I accepted the offered hand, pausing only a moment as I recovered from my surprise at how soft it felt. I was a bit steadier once my feet back under me, but my mind was whirling with questions. I started with the simplest one as I said, “Sooo ... you go by Tammy?”

Tammy's face lit up when I said her name. And yes, I’m switching pronouns. There didn’t seem to be any he-ness about the person beside me. Deal with it.

I wasn't able to get more than a nod from her before my interrogation was cut short by Madam X’s firm voice. “Come along now, girls. The tea is getting cold. You can continue chit-chatting once it's been poured.”

Tammy jumped to attention like a private being barked at by sergeant-major-general, then grabbed my arm before running to the table. Being rather attached to that particular appendage, I was soon stumbling in the same direction.

I tried to ignore the rub burn when she let go, and concentrated on being outraged when I said, "What the hhh--elium do you think you're doing?"

My comrade in crinoline froze. "I'm so sorry," she said. "For a moment,I thought you were ... someone else." A shimmering crystal bead formed in the corner of her eye. "But now she's gone."

Several tears trickled down her cheeks when she squeezed her eyes shut, then then blindly reached for the tea tray as she said, "and it's all my fff ... it's my fa-fau..." Her long sleeve caught on the filigree handle of a teacup, sending it rolling across the table.

I said a silent prayer to the gods of all porcelain products while reaching for the cup, then mumbled something rude in Klingon when it bounced off the tips of my fingers.

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Comments

What a horrific image!

laika's picture

In paragraph 2...
That poor rat! How the heck did he get in there anyway?
Did that mean lady put him in there? The Fiend!

And as to what she's doing with her two hapless captives, I don't have a clue. But if your narrator is former law enforcement, then maybe it's revenge: "You remember that guy you put away six years ago? That was moi.
And when the sex-change and age regression serum in your tea finishes doing it's job neither of you will be in a position to ruin any poor criminal's life the way you ruined mine! Mwaaaaaah HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!"

"Oh. Works for me. Gee, thanks Lady!"

"Yeah, me too... Hey, let's go play!"

Skip... skip... skip...

~or something like that. Hugs, Veronica

Rats & Revenge

Well, nobody actually put a rat anywhere. It was just Becky describing a really awful feeling after recovering from being drugged. As for why the mistress is planning, and why she's doing it, I'm actually not completely certain. It *could* be revenge, or partly revenge, or something else completely. I have a few ideas floating around in my head as to motives, but nothing is completely concrete yet. I guess that ain't the best way to write a story, but it's the only way I know how.

Snark-a-Minute

Daphne Xu's picture

Snark is very much an established trope in gruff PI stories. So much so that one can't distinguish between parody and straight versions. It does get a bit much.

So we have Mistress, who has captured Becky's former boss Tammy, and given Tammy a job to do. Tammy, while out supposedly doing the job, contacts Becky hoping to escape Mistress's thumb. It fails badly, and Mistress has both Becky and Tammy in for a nice tea party.

So what's in the tea, and how will it hurt?

-- Daphne Xu

Snark & Tea

Becky started out very snarky from the moment she wandered into my imagination. I might be able to tone that down a bit, but I'm not exactly sure how to do that, while still keeping the feel of her. As for the tea ... I've had a few interesting ideas, but none of them would hurt or harm. I see Madam X as more of someone who enjoys being in control, rather than someone who enjoys hurting.