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TRAMP STAMP

Chapter 2

I glanced at the file header again, The Golden Enema, and I wondered if Angel was going to think it had something to do with peeing in someone’s ass; well I might have to explain some of the details to her. Well maybe, discretion with Miss Van-Marin’s secrets was more important that helping Angel understand personal case file details. I decided to let her read whatever she wanted into the case and I was just going to have to tell Angel that this file was confidential. I glanced up at Chloe and made a gesture that said I was getting impatient and that I needed to know about her amazing tattoo. She took a deep swig of her bourbon, licked her lips and with a sigh she began, “My grandfather was in the rubber business in the Dutch East Indies between the wars. He became very wealthy and my grandparents lived very well. I don’t know what happened to my father, I never knew him. Apparently, he left my mother after she got pregnant with me. It wasn’t easy for a single mother back then; well it never is, but it was much worse back then because of the social stigma that went with us everywhere we went.” She looked down for a moment in thought, took another pull from her bourbon and looked up at me
perhaps looking for reinforcement. So, I gave her some, “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for your mother
and you, Chloe. Please go on.”

She looked away at the licenses on my wall for a moment and then went on, “My mother had to work to support us, but she couldn’t afford a sitter, but my grandparents wanted me to come live with them. They lived in a magnificent home on Belvedere, but it wasn’t that far from Mom’s apartment if we took the ferry. She was with me almost every evening when she got home from work. I went to school in my grandparent’s neighborhood and grandma would take me and pick me up every day.” I didn’t know this at the time, but Mom was going out at night trying to meet someone new. I don’t know why my mother couldn’t choose good men
” she looked at her glass contemplatively before she took another drink and then she looked at me and for the first time I saw abject hopelessness on her face as tears began to flood her eyes and she gasped, “She was beaten and raped by one of her ‘dates’ and by the time she got to a hospital
they couldn’t save her.” I resisted going to her aid; I didn’t see that a trite rescue attempt was going to get either of us where we needed to be. But I sincerely offered, “Aw Chloe that must have been a terrible time for you.” She looked at me momentarily and then looked away as she fought to regain her composure. I sat a box of Kleenex on the edge of my desk so that she could use them if she wanted, which she did, but after perhaps 2 or 3 minutes she continued, “I was 11 when that happened and as you might guess, I was devastated at the loss of my mother; worse
I was now an orphan. I internalized my stress and soon my health began to deteriorate, because I held everything in. It was my grandmother who helped me the most.” Chloe looked at me, perhaps I thought she was checking to see if I was sincerely interested; perhaps to gauge whether or not she was going to disclose what she said next.

“Early that next summer, about 6 months after I lost my mom, Grandma knocked on my bedroom door and asked to come in to talk with me. She explained that she understood what was wrong with me and that she said she could help me feel better. She told me that she was going to give me, in her words, a nice warm enema. When I asked her what an enema was, she explained that her mother had taught her that a regular enema regimen helps keep a person healthy and that she and grandpa had been using enemas to stay healthy all of their 40 years of marriage and that they regularly helped each other, except of course when grandpa was away in the east indies as he had been for last several weeks. Needless to say, I was very surprised to find out what an enema really was, but grandma was so nice and she made me feel so comfortable that my first time was easy and I remember how good it felt and that I had a sense of wellbeing and my anxiety seemed to be washed away.” She looked at me again, meeting my eyes and I detected that she was gauging my reaction, checking my facial expressions, trying to detect any revulsion or disdain in my posture at hearing her confession. However, I had a genuine interest in her history and I wanted to build her confidence and trust in me, because
well I thought she was just the hottest woman that I had ever had a chance to make a play for
but the immediate need was for her to trust me enough to take me to her place so that I could cover the scene of the crime without her withholding any confidential information from me. I smiled at her and asked her to continue with her story, and getting, perhaps, a sense of my genuine interest in her, she became less hesitant and more open; even a little enthusiastic, and completely unabashed, “I don’t know if you can understand, Jake, but I looked forward to my enema time with my grandma. I began to enjoy the feeling and after a few years I confided to her just how much I liked it when she gave me an enema. I think I was 15 then and she told me that sometimes she actually felt so good when she took and enema that she could have an orgasm. She said that when grandpa was away on business that it happened more. I began to think about that and
” she looked at me again, peering deeply into my eyes, “well Jake
I started having orgasms
”, she looked at me somewhat sheepishly, “
the first time it happened, grandma patted my butt and soothed me saying ‘just let it happen honey, it’s a very natural thing’ and that was my very first time.”

Now my curiosity was up, and I began to ask, “Where and how did she give you these enemas, Chloe?” She seemed relieved that I was now taking a genuine interest in the details of how she first became orgasmic and a faint smile started to appear as she related, “For the first couple of years I got it over her knee from a squeeze bulb that she dipped into the sink. When I was 13, she started giving them to me from a big red bag with a black hose on it and she would rest her hand on my butt to keep the enema nozzle in. The last time I was over her knee was when I had my first orgasm. After that she took me to the drug store in Tiburon and we picked out a Deluxe NEARKID 90 oz Combo Fountain Syringe Enema/Douche that was made be one of grandpa’s subsidiary companies. She helped me use it for a few weeks and then showed me different ways to use it and I began to give myself enemas.” She looked at me intently, then slowly lowered her eyes, “I had an orgasm almost every time Jake!” I slowly leaned over my desk and asked, “When you say you orgasmed every time, honey, (really that just slipped out) was it just from
ya know
the feeling of taking
” “You see Jake, the thing is that after the first time it happened, then I wanted it to happen again and if it didn’t
well I
I used my fingers, Jake
do you understand?” Her smile became more prominent, as she began to realize that she had me fascinated as I swallowed hard and almost lost my voice as I asked, “Where was t
were these
uh
” she interrupted with a question, “Do you mean ‘where did I usually take my enemas when I was a teenager Jake?” I exhaled, obviously somewhat flustered, but could only manage a nod.

“Well Jake, I hung it from the top rail of my bed, and I usually laid down and took my enemas very slow and
well if you must know, Jake
I played with myself” She leaned in to match my gaze and continued, “You know, Jake, I masturbated. Haven’t you ever masturbated before Jake?” Suddenly I thought the heater was on too high and I rose from my chair and walked over to check the wall furnace; it was off! Shit! She was getting to me and I was obviously beet red, as I slowly walked back behind my desk and sat down again and it was seconds before I looked up and met her naughty smirk and her penetrating gaze, as she casually remarked “So I take it that you may have masturbated before Jake?” I ignored her and answered with a question, “So where does that amazing tattoo come in Chloe?”

“My grandparents adopted me when I was 16. When I was 18, grandma said that she had something important to show me and we went upstairs to their bedroom. She told me that grandpa had been experimenting with different compounds to mix with rubber to strengthen it. Much of his fortune had been acquired through the injection of light metal oxides in various rubber compounds. One of his most successful was used in the manufacture of aircraft tires. His biggest contract came from the Navy and he also supplied the Army Air force. She opened the door to the bathroom suite that was off of their bedroom and there, mounted on large hook on the wall, all by itself was this incredible gold enema bag. It was a gift to her from grandpa who on a lark, experimented with a new compound that he injected with gold dust. It was heavy and in the top of the bag there was a molded band of gold amid two platinum bands above and below, topped by a large silver hook. The bag and the hose seemed to glow in the light and I was just fascinated.” She paused and looked at me again, her mouth slightly agape and she seemed to need reassurance again, but before I could provide any she said “I haven’t lost you already have I Jake; I’ve only just
found you?” Did I hear her right? ‘I haven’t lost you’? What was that all about? I wondered out loud, “Even though you are, somehow, captivating to me Chloe, we have only known each other
uh, well, err
 since this morning
I 
I guess I’m not sure why you’re afraid of losing me?”

She turned away for a moment and her body language said she had something else on her mind besides doing what I wanted her to do, which was describe everything she could about the object that was stolen. Suddenly she looked askance at me; a knowing, and most confident look, as her body language relaxed into a sublimely regal pose and she said, “A woman with my resources has a lot at stake, Mr. Dryden, and I couldn’t risk revealing this much of my private life to a complete stranger.” As she was saying this, I was thinking ‘Christ! What do you think I am’ and was actually impressed by what she said next, “I did hear about you from my half-sister, but I researched you for my own safety and, of course to find out how good you really are and to get a sense of what kind of man you are.” She paused as I lay back in my chair, crossed my right leg and propped my right ankle over the top of my left knee. Perhaps the change in my body language prompted a little more concern in her voice, “Jake, you don’t understand! The men that have actually wanted me really just wanted the fortune that I inherited or
well two were
they turned out to be homosexuals. So you see, Jake, I haven’t been any luckier with men than my mother was. But you
you Jake, you were a good honest cop, I mean detective
and you
you are
 your own man and you know what that says to me Jake?” For emphasis, she leaned forward and stood up and placed her hands on my desk so that she could lean in further and then she looked at me as though I was the only man in the world, her world anyway and glowingly said, “You can’t be a kept man, Jake; I already know that much about you. So
detective
you think that I’m captivating, did I hear you say?” Her ample cleavage opened to my gaze, oh yes, she was all women and she wanted me to know it. It was too soon to make a play for her, but I sensed that we both needed more than a professional to client relationship. Images were racing through my mind; her ultra-sensuality; that amassing tattoo, no, highly erotic tattoo; oh her ass- her beautifully shaped and, apparently to her, a source of sexuality-yes her ass; it was obvious that it was one of her prime erogenous zones
well do something ‘pardner’ 
 “How long did it take you to do your research Chloe?” She shot back, somewhat smugly, “A little over 3 months, Jake! I needed to be thorough; I needed to know the man that I had to disclose my most private
but you already know, don’t you Jake, somehow you at least had to suspect?”

“A devastatingly beautiful woman comes into my office, and we connect on a level that I
never have before
I suspected something was up
but I really didn’t expect that you would turn out to be
” I was at a loss for words and I stumbled a bit, “Oh Chloe, you are a bit of an enigma to me.” She giggled for the first time and I saw a bit of the playful side of her, “Oh Jake, I could have a lot of fun with that one, but I don’t think you need to be teased at this juncture.” “Thank you, for that,” I smiled and considered my options. I wasn’t making much headway on the case, so perhaps it was time to visit the crime scene and I said, “It would help, Chloe, to get a look at the scene of the crime, which will give me an insight that I don’t currently have and it may help you to remember all the people who had access to this
” Somehow it wouldn’t come out of my mouth and Chloe completed the sentence for me as a question, “Golden Enema? Is that what you are trying to say Jake?” As I nodded silently, a naughty smile came over her face as she observed, “Yes Jake, I agree; visiting ‘the scene of the crime’, as you say, could be very revealing
in so many ways.” She stood erect with a hand on her hip and turning her ravishingly sensuous profile to me she looked down at me as I was sitting there staring at her like I’d never seen a woman before, “Are you coming, detective
or were you planning to come by later and catch me
 indisposed, as it were?” I shook off my trance and came alive, leapt to my feet, strode to the closet and grabbed my shoulder holster, donned it and my suit jacket, jauntily tipped my hat on and led the way out of my office.

As I walked, she walked beside me and tucked her arm undermine, as she glanced at me with an approving smile; every man wants a beautiful woman to look at him this way. I liked it. “Do you mind if we take my car, Jake? I don’t want to leave it in this part of town.” “Ok by me; lead the way”, I answered and she lead me to a Rolls Royce Silver Dawn that was painted a deep black on the body, but the hood, the bonnet and the boot were painted silver. The paint was so luxurious that it seemed to have depth. I looked at her approvingly, “Nice taste in wheels. It looks new.” “It’s a year old, but I keep it professionally maintained.” She quipped, as the big in-line 6 roared to life. I was thinking that I had never been to Belvedere. I had really never known anyone that had any money either, unless you count some of the high class call girls that I had run across on the job. Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, she glanced at me on and off, but we didn’t say much. Driving onto Belvedere she asked, “That’s a big piece that you stuck under your arm Jake. What is it? Are you expecting trouble?” She caught me daydreaming as I looked out the window back towards San Francisco thinking about her golden enema and wondering if she used it regularly before it was stolen. “It’s a 1911A1 Colt 45. It has enough stopping power to drop a horse. And no, I don’t expect trouble, but if trouble finds us
well it gets to see the business end of Mr. Browning’s masterpiece.” I felt her hand gently rub the inside of my thigh. Something stirred in my loins and I suddenly knew I wanted her. But what did I really want? She kept looking at the road as she breathed “I feel safe with you Jake. I feel like I can share my
” as we pulled into the driveway of an opulent 3 story mansion overlooking the Bay and the Raccoon Straight with a clear view of Angel Island, she turned off the engine and turned to me, returning her hand to the inside of my thigh again, but higher this time, she continued, “I feel that I can share anything with you
Jake
anything
do you know what I mean?” She slowly leaned in to me and kissed me and her hand gingerly drifted up my thigh and lightly rubbed the growing bulge in my pants. She whispered in my ear, “I hope you’re not going to be shocked at what I’m going to show you tonight Jake.” I held her and leaned into her kiss, before telling her that I was ready for anything that she had to show me. But that statement was to be proven incorrect in less than an hour.

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