The following is a work of fiction consisting of adult concepts and possibly sex. Do not read if you are not legally permitted. I don't want the police on my front doorstep. You are welcome to read but please don't distribute without my permission. Feel free to make any comments to the author. Send E-Mail to dalech33@hotmail.com Detective Work. "Okay, McTavish, tell us what you know." Liam McTavish blinked against the harsh light of the lamp that was shining into his face. If he could have moved his arms he would have shielded his eyes, but the handcuffs put paid to that idea. "I ain't telling you nuthin, copper," he said. "Ain't no way I'm giving you anything." McTavish was a big, hulking, brute of a man that could intimidate anyone with a simple glare. He was in his forties now, and had spent most of his life in and out of jail. In his early days he had shown a lot of promise, working as a lifeguard at the Bondi pools, and even being in the water-polo team, but once he had his first sniff of criminal activity he was hooked. It was one thing he felt he was really good at, and the notoriety was something he revelled in. Getting caught occasionally was just an occupational hazard. He had been in a position like this countless times. Shining a light in his eyes hadn't worked the first time he had been arrested, and it sure as hell wasn't going to work this time. He twisted his head towards one of the silhouettes and glared at it. "Come on, McTavish," said the silhouette, "we know you were involved in that bank job. Just tell us where the money is, and who your accomplices are, and we'll let you off with five years minimum security." "Bite me," responded McTavish. He did indeed know where the money was, and he also knew who his accomplices were, but what the cops didn't know was that his accomplices were currently sitting in the boot of an old Ford at the bottom of Sydney Harbour. The bank job had netted nearly a quarter of a million dollars, too much to share with a pair of amateurs like the Johns brothers. The money was safe where it was, and would wait until McTavish was ready to pick it up. "Maybe we should smack him around for a while," said a voice from behind the lamp. "That won't work," said the silhouette. "Guys like McTavish here are to stupid to feel pain. I think it's time to bring in Detective Scott." "Are you sure?" asked the voice behind the lamp. There was no answer, but McTavish heard the door to the interview room open and close. He had never heard of this Detective Scott, but he figured that he could handle anything they threw at him. Two hundred and fifty grand was a big incentive. "Maybe you should confess now, McTavish. You really don't want to deal with this. Tougher men than you have been turned into jelly after just fifteen minutes with Scott." The silhouette moved behind McTavish and whispered into his ear. "Why don't you do yourself a favour and just tell me where the money is. It would be better for you in the long run." McTavish sat in stony silence, refusing to budge. He listened as he heard the silhouette sigh before moving back to the lamp. The sound of the interview room door opening and closing again heralded the arrival of Detective Scott. The silhouette reached over and turned off the lamp. McTavish blinked, trying to get used to not having the light shining into his eyes. When they cleared he got his first glimpse of Detective Scott. Detective Scott was about 5'7", snappily dressed in an Armani suit, and the best looking female McTavish had ever seen. Nice body, big tits, and long blonde hair that had been pulled back severely into a bun. On her face she wore wire-rimmed glasses that made her look like a librarian, but there was something beneath the façade that made McTavish nervous. He decided that bravado was the way to go here. "So what now? She going to sandpaper her nails until I beg for mercy? Or maybe she will put on a Celion Dion CD and torture me with that." McTavish dismissed Det. Scott with a snort. Did they really think some slip of a girl with a nice rack was going to get him to talk? "We know all about you and the Johns brothers," said Det Scott, walking up to him and leaning down to stare him in the eye. McTavish caught a whiff of her perfume, and it caused something to stir in him. It was something child-like, like a first-grader being admonished by his teacher. He didn't like it one little bit. He also didn't like that they had found out about the Johns brothers. "We found your first getaway car in Bromeliads Avenue. And we have an eyewitness who saw the three of you get into an old Ford Cortina. It's only a matter of time before we find it, and the Johns brothers." She stood up and reached up to release the bun in her hair, letting the tresses fall down over her shoulders. "All we really need from you, Liam, is the location of the money." McTavish found something very appealing about the way she said his name. That child-like stirring turned into a very adult one. He could feel his cock start to stiffen in his trousers. "We know that you wouldn't trust Chris and Jason with the money," said Det. Scott as she took off her jacket. "So you must have hidden it yourself, seeing as you didn't have it on you when we picked you up." McTavish stared at the blonde detective. There was something very sexy about a woman in a shoulder holster, even if the gun that should have been there was in a secure locker outside. He noticed how the straps to the holster arched across the top of her breasts, and he estimated that the white shirt she was wearing hid DD's, at least. He saw her fingers brush lightly across her breasts as she removed the holster. McTavish gulped. "You know," said Scott as she placed her holster over the back of a chair, "we do things differently now. Gone are the halcyon days of beating a confession out of a suspect. Now we have other methods. Far more effective methods." She started to unbutton her shirt. McTavish glanced at the other Detective, the one that had just been a silhouette before. He noticed that he was paying just as much attention to Det. Scott as he was. There was something very wrong with all this, and it made the old thug very, very nervous. "What are you doing?" he asked, turning back just in time to see Scott remove her shirt. He gulped again when he saw she was wearing a white lace teddy beneath. "Why, I'm interrogating you, Liam. What do you think I'm doing?" she asked innocently. "It looks to me like you are fixing to get your titties out," replied McTavish, always the gentleman. "Maybe, maybe not. It depends on how long it takes you to break," said Scott seductively. McTavish threw back his head and laughed. "Lady, I been to strip shows before, and not once did I feel an overwhelming urge to tell everything I knew. You just go right and get naked, I ain't telling you nuthin." Scott just smiled as she slid out of her pants, revealing that she wore knee-high kid leather boots under the loose fabric. She walked over to McTavish again and leaned down till her lips were mere millimetres from his. "Just tell me were the money is, Liam," she breathed, "and I promise I'll go easy on you." McTavish just smiled, determined not to let her know how much she was getting to him. But there was one part of him that he couldn't control, and it was this part that she looked down at. "Oh my," she cooed, "what do we have here?" She ran her fingernails lightly over his fly, and down to the hard lump beneath. "Looks like you want to tell me more than you're admitting, Liam." "I ain't giving up the money, toots, I don't care how much you try to tease me. I been teased by the best, and you ain't got nuthin on them." McTavish sounded confident, but beneath his rough exterior was a man who wanted to fuck this blonde beauty. "We'll soon see about that, Liam," said Scott as she grasped his zipper and gently eased it down. Her long delicate fingers reached inside and grabbed him. "My, what a big boy you are." She took a good grip and eased him out. The fact that McTavish never wore underwear made her job a lot easier. In a matter of seconds she had him loose, then kneeled before his semi-hard member. "Where's the money, Liam?" she asked. "What money?" replied McTavish, trying very hard not to sweat. Scott looked up at him. "Tsk, tsk," she said, waving her finger at him. "That's not the correct answer." She leaned forward and blew on his cock, causing it to stir. "Where is it, Liam?" "I don't know what you're talking about," replied McTavish, a slight quiver in his voice. Scott gently grabbed the head of his cock with her fingers and lifted it up. Her tongue darted out and licked along his shaft, from base to tip, in one long delicious movement. McTavish's cock was no longer a compliant piece of meat, now it was a rod of steel. "Liam? The money?" "I…I'm not saying anything." McTavish tried desperately to control himself. He was sweating freely now. He watched as Scott flicked tongue into the eye of his dick and sighed in spite of himself. "I want a lawyer," he said. Scott ignored his request and slowly slid her mouth over the head of his cock. He watched as she applied enough suction to draw in her cheeks. She released him and said, "Are you ready to talk, Liam?" McTavish just shook his head, it was all he was capable of. Scott went back to work, holding his cock by the head as she wrapped her lips around the shaft, sucking and licking her way up and down. Her free hand went straight to his balls, massaging them gently between her fingers. "Tell me everything, Liam," she said after releasing him from her mouth. "No," gasped McTavish. His neck muscles strained as he desperately tried to maintain control. Scott just smiled and placed her mouth over his trembling dick. She took him in, sliding her lips down over the head, down his pulsing shaft, down, down, down. At last her nose was pressing against his groin, his entire cock resting deep within her throat, McTavish could swear that he felt her tonsils pressing against him. And then she started to move. Her lips sliding up and down his dick now, making it slick with her saliva. The sucking sounds coming from his crotch was sending McTavish quietly mad. He wanted to place his hands on her head, run his fingers through her hair, force her down on his cock, but the handcuffs held his hands behind him. He was powerless in her grasp. "Oh God," he groaned, closing his eyes against the light in the room which suddenly seemed to be far too bright. He could feel his balls start to bubble with sperm, his cock starting to burn like a furnace. He could also hear the Detective between his legs start to moan. It was too much for him, and he began to cum. Except he couldn't. Something was stopping him. He could feel an incredible grip around the base of his shaft. "Tell me, Liam" "Oh Christ, Oh Fuck, let me cum bitch." His voice had gone up and octave with the strain. His entire body was concentrated around his one small appendage. He wanted desperately to be released. "Tell me where the money is," said Scott, just loud enough to be heard over the grunting prisoner. "Fuck you, you fucking skank whore bitch. Let me the fuck go." "Tell me!" yelled Scott. "Tell me and I'll let you cum!" "Fuck, fuck, fuck," cried McTavish. His face was now crimson, and he felt like he was going to explode. Scott reached down and licked the tip of his cock. That was the last straw. "It's under the floor of my garden shed, in a steel box." Scott smiled and released her grip. White hot cum shot from McTavish's cock, splashing over her face and breasts. She scooped up a big wad from her cheek and sucked it from her finger. "I guess I didn't have to get my titties out after all, Liam." The big, hulking, brute of a man that was Liam McTavish slumped forward in his chair and cried. The End.