bore the brunt of the other whores’ venom. They ignored me at every turn and denigrated me to their clients, claiming that a plastic pussy could never give as much pleasure as a genuine one. One of them cut the power to my recharging probe and Slab found me lying, unable to move, in my bed one morning . Fifi re monstrated with them and threatened to have them retrained as librarians’ assistants but the truth was that they loved their work and didn’t wish a life in the word of books.
Things would have come to a head if another event had not transpired which deflected their attention.
“Someone’s stolen my panties,” Mandy complained one day.
“You too?” Priscilla said, “I thought some of mine had gone missing.”
Underwear was one o f the girls biggest expenses as they changed their panties several times a day so that they would always be shop-fresh for their clients. They only wore the finest and most expensive of undergarments, of course, and their loss was a major blow.
“Oh they’ve just gone missing in the laundry,” Fifi said dismissively.
Each girl had a laundry basket in her room where they deposited their soiled underwear. Slab collected these on a daily basis and they were picked up by Mr Wu for laundering twice a week.
“No, I count mine out and I count them in,” Mandy insisted, “And these ones are going missing from my dirty laundry.”
“It’s some dirty pervert,” Katie snarled. “What john have you both entertained recently ?”
Mrs Harris was called to produce her appointment book but it seemed that they had not shared their services with anyone.
“Maybe there’s more than one of them then?” Katie suggested.
“Your theory may be correct, Kate,” I said, “I have suffered no losses and this may be because I do not soil my panties.”
I had at one point considered exuding moisture from my vaginal orifice regularly to better simulate a real woman but had decided that it was unnecessary.
“No one wants panties soaked in engine oil,” Priscilla snapped, which showed her ignorance as , though my vaginal lubricant was synthetic , it was not engine oil and I had even been told that it tasted nice.
“Maybe it’s Slab,” Mandy suggested.
Kate snorted. “The only panties he’s interested in are those worn by blond, twenty one year old white boys.”
“Yeah, but maybe they’re not for his personal use, he could be selling them. Pandora’s Panties, bet there’s a market.”
“I have known Slab for over fifteen years and he has my absolute trust,” Fifi said imperiously which removed our handyman as a suspect immediately .
“Hell, I could sell my panties myself and put the fucker out of business, ” Mandy offered.
“I don’t think profit is the motive,” I said, “The thief derives a perverse pleasure from purloining your panties.”
“But I don’t see that we could have a bunch of thieves all appear at the same time. And that’s all that makes sense if we haven’t had the same john.”
“We must set a trap to capture the miscreant,” I suggested. “If it is the same culprit he must be booking under different identities. He must also be a master of disguise otherwise he would run the risk of being identified.” I paused and considered. “I think another reason that I have not been targeted is that I do not visit the toilet when a client visits, which is obviously when he strikes.”
Fifi nodded sagely, but said, “I don’t see what kind of trap we can lay, especially if we don’t know who the shit is and I’m not sure I’m happy about putting the girls in harm’s way by asking them to collar him.”
“What about Slab, surely that’s his job?” Mandy said.
“Slab’s big and strong, but if he’s in the middle of Carousel he’s not fast,” Fifi admitted. “Our bad guy could rob a girl and be on his way before the big man got moving. I like to think of him more as a visual deterrent than anything else.”
“I could be put in
Things would have come to a head if another event had not transpired which deflected their attention.
“Someone’s stolen my panties,” Mandy complained one day.
“You too?” Priscilla said, “I thought some of mine had gone missing.”
Underwear was one o f the girls biggest expenses as they changed their panties several times a day so that they would always be shop-fresh for their clients. They only wore the finest and most expensive of undergarments, of course, and their loss was a major blow.
“Oh they’ve just gone missing in the laundry,” Fifi said dismissively.
Each girl had a laundry basket in her room where they deposited their soiled underwear. Slab collected these on a daily basis and they were picked up by Mr Wu for laundering twice a week.
“No, I count mine out and I count them in,” Mandy insisted, “And these ones are going missing from my dirty laundry.”
“It’s some dirty pervert,” Katie snarled. “What john have you both entertained recently ?”
Mrs Harris was called to produce her appointment book but it seemed that they had not shared their services with anyone.
“Maybe there’s more than one of them then?” Katie suggested.
“Your theory may be correct, Kate,” I said, “I have suffered no losses and this may be because I do not soil my panties.”
I had at one point considered exuding moisture from my vaginal orifice regularly to better simulate a real woman but had decided that it was unnecessary.
“No one wants panties soaked in engine oil,” Priscilla snapped, which showed her ignorance as , though my vaginal lubricant was synthetic , it was not engine oil and I had even been told that it tasted nice.
“Maybe it’s Slab,” Mandy suggested.
Kate snorted. “The only panties he’s interested in are those worn by blond, twenty one year old white boys.”
“Yeah, but maybe they’re not for his personal use, he could be selling them. Pandora’s Panties, bet there’s a market.”
“I have known Slab for over fifteen years and he has my absolute trust,” Fifi said imperiously which removed our handyman as a suspect immediately .
“Hell, I could sell my panties myself and put the fucker out of business, ” Mandy offered.
“I don’t think profit is the motive,” I said, “The thief derives a perverse pleasure from purloining your panties.”
“But I don’t see that we could have a bunch of thieves all appear at the same time. And that’s all that makes sense if we haven’t had the same john.”
“We must set a trap to capture the miscreant,” I suggested. “If it is the same culprit he must be booking under different identities. He must also be a master of disguise otherwise he would run the risk of being identified.” I paused and considered. “I think another reason that I have not been targeted is that I do not visit the toilet when a client visits, which is obviously when he strikes.”
Fifi nodded sagely, but said, “I don’t see what kind of trap we can lay, especially if we don’t know who the shit is and I’m not sure I’m happy about putting the girls in harm’s way by asking them to collar him.”
“What about Slab, surely that’s his job?” Mandy said.
“Slab’s big and strong, but if he’s in the middle of Carousel he’s not fast,” Fifi admitted. “Our bad guy could rob a girl and be on his way before the big man got moving. I like to think of him more as a visual deterrent than anything else.”
“I could be put in
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