Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

In our initial survey of Sly Bucks’ massive bedroom, one of the uniformed cops discovered a laptop computer under one of the pillows of the billionaire’s bed. It was several days before I had the time to consider what it might contain. I called one of the nerds in our computer section and asked for some help, assuming that everything on the laptop would be password secured.I had completely forgotten about the computer until three days later, one of the computer geeks showed up at my door. “I’m told there’s a laptop you need hacked?” he said, leaning against the door frame, looking utterly uninterested.“Yeah,” I answered, reaching for the laptop. “We’re working on a murder case. This machine was found in the vic’s bedroom. I’d like to know what’s in it.”“Have you tried turning it on?”“No,” I answered, more than a little pissed to be asked such a stupid question. But as a female detective, I was accustomed to condescending remarks like his. “The vic was a billionaire. I’m sure he had password protection on everything. That’s why I called the experts.”The man sat down on the corner of my desk and pressed the computer power button. “It’s a nice model,” the expert told me as he inspected it. “This baby probably costs more than six grand.”“Money was never a problem for Mr. Bucks,” I replied as I watched.In less than five minutes, the geek pushed the computer toward me. “Here ya go, Detective. This rich guy must have been pretty certain he was safe. I can’t find anything in the files that are protected. It looks like he used a lot of memory for videos. There isn’t much in the way of documents. He must have used this one for enjoyment.”“Thanks for the help,” I grunted, surprised at what the geek told me. As the man walked out of my office, I opened a folder entitled Videos. “I see what you mean,” I said to the room as I scrolled down a list of videos. “Fuck me!” I said out loud, seeing there were at least two hundred. The files were grouped together under headings like “HH” and “RC.”“What the hell are these?” I again said aloud as I clicked on RC1. Suddenly the screen lit up with the face of Rosie Cheeks. She was smiling at the camera and undressing. I took my eyes from the computer screen to see if anyone was looking in the large window to my office. We had stringent rules stating that porn could not be watched in the squad room. But then I reasoned that I was investigating a case and needed to follow every lead. By the time the video showed Rosie completely naked, I had an understanding of why Mr. Bucks liked to have her around.Rosie was stunning! What a body! Rosie was a beautiful woman, with woman being the keyword. She had a woman’s body with rounded hips and full breasts. For an actress who had spent over ten years in the porn business, she was still a hot babe. I remembered that Rosie was one of the first porn stars to squirt on camera.I closed the video and opened one labeled HH4. This film opened with a naked Heidi Honeypot on a large chair holding a giant dildo. Like the last one, this movie was definitely homemade. This Bostancı Escort one quickly removed any doubt that Mr. Bucks was amusing himself with the woman Rosie Cheeks had attacked the night of the party.Looking at the directory, I found IJB, making me believe that Buck’s assistant, Ima Jean Butkis, did have more than a business relationship with her boss. There was not a file PP, for Purdy Purity. The young woman had denied having a sexual relationship with Mr. Bucks. Perhaps this was proof.But the file that got my attention was labeled, FB. Who could that be? I couldn’t think of anyone on my suspect list with those initials. There were only three videos in the FB file, so it was simple enough to find out.I opened FB1 and immediately shouted, “Fuck Me!”One of the young detectives stuck his head in my office door. “Everything all right, boss?”“Yeah, Yeah. I’m fine. I just found some surprising evidence in the Bucks case. Go back to your desk,” I growled. I got up to close my office door and returned to the laptop. Making certain no one could see the computer screen, I started the video again. There on the display was Father Bottomore in his black priest cassock . What the hell was the priest from the largest Catholic Church in the city doing in Sly Bucks’ bedroom?The reason soon became apparent. A voice behind the camera instructed Bottomore to remove his clothes. Within a few minutes, I was surprised to see the priest standing naked in front of the camera. I was also surprised to see that Bottomore had a muscular tanned body. “What a waste,” I mumbled, looking to check out his package.Again I had to wonder what was happening. Why would this highly placed priest be naked in Bucks’ bedroom? My question was soon answered when the film showed the priest lean over the back of a chair and present his butt to the camera. Seconds later, a thick, hard cock appeared before the camera and was quickly shoved up the priest’s ass.For the next several minutes, the screen was filled with the cock pumping in and out of the priest. I didn’t hear any noise or sounds of enjoyment until the very end. The man with the thick cock groaned, obviously from orgasm. The camera moved back to show cum dripping from the holy man’s ass before the screen went blank.“What the hell?” I said again. “This doesn’t make sense.” However, there were two more videos, marked FB2 and FB3. I checked both and they were virtually identical to the first. The same priest undressing and presenting his butt for the use of the man with the camera. I could only assume that the man behind the camera was Bucks.“Bucks must have had some incriminating evidence against the priest,” I surmised. “He must have been blackmailing the priest. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.” I went back to the video files and found that they had been made one year apart. The last one had a date-stamp just three months ago.I unwrapped what must have been my fiftieth sucker of the day, leaned back in my chair and mulled over the information I had just uncovered. The evidence showed that Bostancı Escort Bayan Father Bottomore was also a suspect to consider for the murder. It seemed evident the Father was being blackmailed. How many times had I seen something similar? But why would the victim blackmail a catholic priest? Bucks already had more money than God and the priest couldn’t have had more than one hundred dollars to his name.I decided that Father Bottomore needed to be questioned. The case files showed that he had been interviewed the day following Bucks’ death, but he insisted he had no knowledge of what had happened. He admitted to having been to Bucks’ home that night, but only for a few minutes. The priest had not told the interviewer why he was there. I need to know WHY.The following afternoon one of my detectives appeared at my door. “Hey boss, I’ve got a holy man here to see you.”“A what?” I growled.“This guy must be some kind of priest or pastor. He’s all dressed in black with a little white collar under his chin,” the Detective explained. “And he’s got a really stupid name.”“Is his name Bottomore?”“Yeah,” the Detective said with a grin. “You know this guy?”“You might say he’s one of the suspects in the Bucks case,” I told the Detective as I wondered if moron would ever make it as a detective. “Send him in.”Two minutes later, the handsome Father Bottomore stood at my door. “Detective Balls,” he said in a silky baritone voice. “I’m Father Bottomore. I was told you wished to speak with me.”Standing, I waved Bottomore into my office. “Thanks, Father. It was really good of you to come down to the station. I had thought about coming out to your Church, but decided you might be more willing to speak freely away from prying eyes.”“That was very thoughtful of you, Detective,” the priest said as he entered my office and selected a chair.I saw his eyes look through the clutter on my desk and on my bookshelf. “Please excuse the mess, Father. I’m afraid we get kinda busy here and things just seem to pile up.” As I sat down, I couldn’t help but take in this handsome man. He must have been more than six feet tall, with a broad chest and a goatee with tinges of white in it.“I would never be judgmental, Detective. I’ve spent my life as a servant of God. HE will judge you. Not me.”My first thought was Father Bottomore was an asshole, but I decided to withhold my assessment until we had talked a bit more. He gave the impression of being aloof, but that exterior might melt when he found out I had videos of him being buggered.“As you might guess, Father, we’re working on the case of Sly Bucks. It hasn’t been determined yet if his death was accidental or a case for homicide. I’m hoping that you might help shed some light on what little we know.”“Why would you think I would know anything beneficial to help your inquiry?”“Oh,” I thought to myself. “You’re not just an asshole. You’re a devious asshole.”“I have several reasons to think you might be helpful,” I told the priest as I tented my fingers while placing my elbows on my desk. “The first reason Escort Bostancı is that several of the guests at the Busks mansion on the night of his death reported having seen you around the back of the house.”“Am I the only man who wears a collar who could have been there?” he answered with a smirk.“Since you mention it,” I said with a frown, “You do seem to be the only person of religious persuasions who has ever been seen on the Busks grounds.” I noticed a bit of the smugness seemed to dissolve from his face.“When you add that to the videos I have of you taking Bucks’ cock up your ass, I have to think the possibility of you having some helpful information is quite realistic.”The pompous look on Bottomore’s face disappeared. He didn’t blush, but he knew he had been caught.“I was hoping those videos would be lost forever,” the Father mumbled.“I’m sure you would like to hope that, but I’m sorry to say, Mr. Bucks kept them on his laptop along with many other videos he made with other people.”Bottomore seemed to be fixated with his fingers. I’ve seen hundreds of perps in this state. They are trying to look calm while their mind spins at high speed, trying to come up with some logical explanation of their activities. I waited until he looked up at me. The look in his eyes told me his bluster was gone.“I have three videos of you, Father Bottomore. They are dated about a year apart. All three are the same. You are standing in front of a video camera fully dressed. Then at a command, you remove all of your clothing and bend over a chair, presenting your ass to be used. Does that sound about right to you?”“Yes,” the priest said, holding his head up. “I went through that indignity three times.”“From what I’ve read about Catholic priests, that would not be an uncommon activity,” I suggested.“I will be truthful with you, Detective,” the priest said clearly. “I did similar things in my youth, but not since I became dedicated to the Church. It is unseemly, to say the least.”I picked up a sucker from the bag in my desk drawer and offered it to the priest. When he shook his head no, I unwrapped it and took my time before the next question. “I’ve seen things like this before.”“I imagine that you might,” Bottomore replied in a quiet voice.“But what has me baffled is this. Someone being videotaped like this is almost always something done as an act of blackmail. What the hell could Bucks want from you? As a priest, you don’t have any money and lord knows Bucks was filthy rich. I just don’t get it.”“Blackmail does not always have to do with money, Detective,” the priest said as he sat up straight in his chair. “A person of my stature in the church could be held up to ridicule, or transferred to a small town church to wither in ignominy.”I thought about it for a minute. “So you’re saying that you allowed yourself to be filmed in a homosexual act in order to get something from Mr. Bucks? You willingly participated in the act to get something you wanted? Is that it?”Sitting up straight in the chair, Father Bottomore closed his eyes and sighed.“I need to know what happened at Bucks house the night he died. If you tell me what you know, I’ll do my best to keep the information private. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to let what I already know become public,” I told the priest.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32