Gumshoe adventure in rhyme

A story told in rhyme of a gumshoe detective and the client who is looking to find someone she hasn’t met.

She came in all black and blue,

The black was a dress that fit her like a sex starved lover,

the blue was her mood.

Me?

Me, I was the gumshoe she came to see.

She came for me to see red.

“I need you to find who did this to me,” she said.

Straight and to the point. Just like my hard on. Really, who

wears leather like that?

“What did they do? And can you afford my fee?”

Two questions. One word.

Yes.

The only answer I needed to know.

Then she parted her dress. Marks, red like rose petals in a line, down her back and across her butt. Her ass called to me. Neighing like a wild stallion.

Who was I not to answer the call of the wild?

“Those are some pretty heavy marks,” I said as I drooled, “the man that would mark such a canvas is a fool.”

Then the curtain dropped. Her dress was zipped back up.

“Just find him,” she said.

“Then leave him to me.”

I searched with information given to me.

She was at a party.

Then she passed out.

Then she awoke,

with marks given out.

I searched high and searched low

but enough about my mental state.

I found the answer she wanted.

I called her into my office.

She strode in on a pair of stiletto heels.

I wondered again if there were any way for me to get her off her feet.

I’m not the sweeping type but for her I’d find a broom.

“I got the info you wanted and more. You have what I want?”

“I’ve got the check”

“That’s not all that I want.”

“Just give me the information I need.”

“Just give me the check then.”

With money in my hand, at least on paper, I gave her a name then I gave her more.

“Here is the man who marked your skin.”

I made my announcement and then opened a door.

Then I got a surprise as she dropped to her knees.

“Master I am yours. Your marks on my skin caused my mind to leave. Subspace I entered by your hand. Take me as I am. Yours to do with as you please. Take me. I’m on my knees.”

They walked out hand and hand. All I had was the check in my hand.

Dames.

The next one that walks through that door remind me:

To get my whip.