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.