Warning: This story features bondage.

Context: This is a short story written for Day 14 of Kinktober 2025 using the prompt words Snoop and Betrayal.

God damn it was hot. The kind of heat that smothers you like a thick blanket you just can’t kick off. The fan in my office was broken yet again. Sunbeams poked through cracked slats in the venetian blinds. This dusty old place was falling apart, and so was I.

As if it wasn't already hard enough for a woman to be taken seriously as a private eye in this flea-bitten town.

The corkboard covered in photographs and red string hadn’t been seen change in weeks. My last three cases, all disappeared women with some connection to suspected Marelli operations, had stalled. I was so close to breathing this thing wide open, but close doesn’t pay the bills. I needed a win.

BZZZT!

As if the heavens themselves heard and answered my prayer, someone was outside my office. Talk about fast service. I pressed the buzzer and the door opened. That's when I first saw her.

She had legs for days, even more for nights. A short skirt hugging curves so divine they’d make you consider worshipping something other than the bottle. Designer jacket, dark flowing hair, big round sunglasses, plump ruby-red lips.

Dames like this one were always trouble.

“Are you Detective Stevens?”

“That's my name on the door isn’t it?”

“Well that’s hardly proof. You might be a burglar who broke in and I just have terrible timing.”

“If I was a burglar I’d have to tie you up so you couldn’t go running to call the coppers.”

“If you even could. Many men have tried.”

She’s a sharp one.

“Good thing I'm not a man then isn’t it?”

“It just might be.”

She settled into the chair in front of my desk. I held up a scotch bottle and she nodded. I poured her a glass, then sat opposite her with one of my own.

“Since as you may noticed your hands are not tied, maybe we can start trusting each other a little.”

“Not tied yet. But alright detective, let’s talk. I’m here because I need your help.”

“I’m sure a woman like you could convince any man to do anything you want. Why drag yourself out to a hole in the wall like this one?”

“Because this matter requires a feminine touch. And I hear you’re good.”

She removed her jacket and laid it over the back of her chair. It was hard not to stare at that chest straining against that top.

“So what’s the job, Miss...?”

“Missus. Jones. I want you to investigate my husband. I know he’s been cheating on me but I don’t have any proof. He’s a manager at Lucky Lucy’s, the strip club joint down by the docks.”

I knew the place well. One of my missing girls started working there shortly before she vanished. I’d already fumbled my one shot to learn anything, getting caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

“Sorry to disappoint darling, but I’m persona non grata. Bouncers won’t let me step one foot inside the door.”

“That won’t be a problem. You’d be going in the back, not the front. A friend of mine works the service entrance. While an unfamiliar man wandering around inside would stick out like a sore thumb, a new girl wouldn’t. They’re all just tits and asses to those goons.”

It wasn’t without its risks, but this might be the big break I needed. While I was ruminating, Mrs Jones took off her sunglasses for the first time, deep blue eyes staring straight at me. She leaned forward, flashing her cleavage.

“Please detective, I don’t know where else to turn. If you can't help me either...”

Right then and there, my fate was sealed. I couldn't ever say no to a damsel in distress.

“Alright, I’ll take the case. Tell your man to expect me tomorrow night.”

She gave me a warm thankful smile, downed her drink, and stood to leave. I watched her swaying rear-end every step of the way until it passed through the door and out of sight.

Dames...

I hurried along the boardwalk, holding my trenchcoat closed and trilby hat low to shield my face. My usual ‘armour’. It was the clothing underneath that was unfamiliar and disconcerting for me. I turned into the alley behind Lucky Lucy’s. A stocky rough-shaven man standing beside a door regarded me with suspicion as I approached him. I spoke the pre-agreed passphrase.

“Lace and leather.”

“Ah so you’re the ‘new girl’. You’re not exactly dressed the part.”

I sighed and opened my coat. Underneath it I wore the most girly clothing I’d ever donned in my adult life. A pink lacy one-piece, halfway between a dress and lingerie, sleeveless, low chest and ending halfway down my thighs. My legs wore black fishnet stockings and red high heels.

“I stand corrected. Alright doll, head on in.”

I stepped inside the door and entered a hive of activity. Gorgeous girls in revealing clothing roamed to and fro. I slipped off my coat, stepping forward to blend into the hustle and bustle. I manoeuvred carefully around the crowd, edging my way to the back.

The second I was certain there were no eyes on me, I hurried up a staircase. The upper floor was much quieter. The office of purported-philanderer Mr Jones was my first port of call. A few minutes of careful creeping and I spied an open door with an ornate desk holding stacks of papers within. Bingo!

I stepped forwards, only to feel a clammy hand grab my arm. A gormless leering man in a cheap suit.

“Hey baby. You could get in trouble being up here. Wouldn’t want people to think you were snooping around now would ya? Maybe I can forget I saw anything if...”

He reached behind me and gave my ass a rough squeeze. I had to catch myself to remain docile and not lash out.

“Uh. I’m reeeally sorry mister. Please don’t get me in trouble. Maybe we could go somewhere a bit more... private~?”

Suppressing my disgust, I pulled him by the hand towards the office I’d spotted. He eagerly followed.

Once inside he turned to close the door behind him. The second he turned back around, he was greeted by a rotary phone’s base colliding with his face, an emitted ting joining the loud thunk. He collapsed to the ground unconscious.

“Collect call. It's for you.”

I hurried over to the desk and began rooting through drawers. I hadn't found anything when the office door suddenly burst open. Three thugs burst in, all bearing pistols pointed straight at me. My stomach dropped. Nothing I could do but slowly raise my arms.

A short overweight mobster slunk in after them. Marelli!

“Ho ho, have I been looking forward to this day detective. You’ve stuck your nose into my business for the last time. Boys, get her wrapped up nice and pretty would ya?”

I gulped as they pulled out coils of rope and advanced on me.

An hour later the blindfold was whipped off my head. I was standing in a large warehouse, still somewhere in the docks based on the lingering stench of low tide. Crates surrounded us, but one in particular stood out. It was open and lying flat, the insides lined with straw and leather straps.

My stripper outfit was now partially covered by heaps of tight hemp rope that pinched against my skin and held my limbs painfully close together, with a few extra ropes around my chest and pelvis to annoy more than restrain me.

The lower half of my face had a white cloth wrapped tightly around it, holding in several cloths stuffed into my mouth. I was told they were the undergarments of other abductees. Marelli cackled at my distress.

“Wasn’t this what you were after the whole time detective? Now you’ll learn exactly what happened to all those girls, except up close and reeeeal personal. You're going on a one-way trip overseas to a wealthy buyer.”

I scoffed, reassuring myself with one simple fact. Marelli didn’t know that my presence at the strip club tonight was known. Mrs Jones would eventually wonder where I was. She’d surely contact the police and tell them where I went. They’d investigate, turn the place upside-down, and finally find out--

clack clack clack!

A woman stepped forward from the darkness. Mrs Jones?! She sauntered up to Marelli, leaned down, and kissed him.

“Mmhm~. Surprised to see me here Detective Stevens? ‘Fraid I wasn’t entirely honest with you. My name is Mrs Marelli, not Jones. Told ya she’d fall for it hubby. A pretty lady flutters her eyelashes and this one bends over backwards.”

I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for her act so easily. Hook, line and sinker.

“Mmmmgghhh!!”

“Let’s get this pest boxed up. Would you do the honours of strapping her in, Sugarbee?”

“Sure thing hubby.”

Two henchmen grabbed and lifted me, carrying me over the open box. I thrashed and screamed something fierce, but I was like a kitten pawing at a rottweiler. They lowered me down onto the straw padding.

Mrs Jones... no, Mrs Marelli, leaned over me.

“This is where we say farewell detective. I can’t say it wasn’t fun. But now y--”

She froze mid-sentence, stunned in place, like she’d just witnessed Lucifer himself. I peered past her and saw the reason why. Marelli had his gun pressed into her back.

“W... why...?”

“Terribly sorry Sugarbee. But your screwup failing to cover your tracks with the last girl is why this snoop nearly made our whole operation. You’re becoming a liability. Besides, while the Regent is pleased with all the girls you bring him, he’s never stopped inquiring about having you. His offer has become too tempting to ignore. That’s just the risk of being a woman in our trade I’m afraid.”

“You bastard! You weaselly little bastard!”

“Save it toots. Boys, pack her up.”

“No! Don’t you dare do this to mmmmphhh!”

The two thugs grabbed their boss’s wife and began restraining her. They started with a stuffed over-the-mouth cloth gag like mine, just to shut up her hollering. Then knives came out, tearing her expensive-looking outfit to shreds.

Soon she down to only her delicate black bra and panties. I had to admit she looked even more beautiful in her underwear. The goons clearly thought so too, as they were awfully handsy while pulling the ropes around her. I guessed there were sore feelings over how she’d treated them in the past given the quantity and cruel tightness of the ropes.

I had limited sympathy. What goes around comes around honey. I did however get worried when they lifted her above my own crate. They weren’t putting her in her own?

She was laid down right on top of me, wriggling furiously, which caused me no small deal of distress. The straps attached to the insides of the crate were pulled all around us tightly, limiting our movement to almost nothing. That stopped her fussing some, but she still shook with rage against me. Our legs, breasts and mouths were squashed right together.

“These crates are meant for one person, so it’s a bit cramped. You gals will get to know each other real well during your trip. The three weeks will fly by! Pity there’s such a heat wave. Gonna get awful sweaty all pressed together like that. Have a nice trip dolls~”

“Mmmmmgh!”

“MMMMPH!!”

He snapped his fingers and the goons lifted the crate’s lid. We shook and howled in sheer panic as it was placed down, throwing us into complete darkness. Followed by a thudding of nails being hammered in around the edges.

My duplicitous fellow captive would not stop struggling and rubbing against me. All of this, all because of her long legs and pretty eyes.

Dames...