Capitol Murder Read Online Free

it out, slowly,
biting down on her nail just before she finished. “The whole outfit. I’ve been wearing it under
my suit all day. Just waiting for you. Waiting till we had a chance to be alone together. You
like?”
    “Yeah,” Glancy replied. Because the camera was focused on the woman and the sofa, his head was
now off the top border of the screen. “I like.”
    The woman lay back against a sofa cushion with her legs slightly spread. “You want to show me
how much you like it?”
    “I think I can do that.” His hands moved below the screen, but it was obvious he was pulling
down his pants and advancing toward her.
    The woman’s eyes ballooned. “Oh God. I didn’t mean—I—You’re—”
    “Waiting for you, baby.” She leaned back as if to lie down, but he held her by the shoulders
and pulled her closer to him. Pixilated masking obscured his groin area. “Show me how bad you
want me, baby.”
    “Oh, honey, I—I—can’t—” She was staring at him—staring at his pelvis—with unmasked horror. “I
can’t—put—that—”
    “Sure you can, baby.” He pulled her closer to him, even though she was visibly resisting. “I’m
your Sugar Daddy, right? Your all-day sucker. You said you wanted me inside you. Here’s your
chance. Get to work.”
    “Oh God, Todd, I—” As he pushed her face nearer to him, the pixilated masking spread from his
groin to cover most of her head, but the audio continued uninterrupted. “Please, I—I—mmph—”
    Her voice was obscured by a series of gagging noises. The captioning couldn’t possibly
transcribe this dialogue, but it didn’t matter. No matter what language viewers spoke or wrote,
they would have no trouble interpreting this scene.
    The man’s head was still off screen, but his torso stiffened. “Oh yeah. Oh yeah, baby. That’s
it. That’s exactly it.”
    “Mmmph—mmm—” She was struggling, but with his arms locked around her, there was nowhere to go.
Her eyes, the only part of her face that wasn’t obscured, were wide and panicky.
    “Just a little more, baby. We’re almost there.” His hips started rocking. “Oh my God. Oh yes.
Oh yes.” He began to shout, twisting back and forth. “Oh yes! Oh yes yes yes yes
yeeeeeessssss
!”
    When he was finished, he leaned back, releasing her, and pulled his pants up. He smacked her
once on the side of her left buttock. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
    As soon as she was free, the woman rolled over. Her head was out of the camera frame, but the
audio made it clear she was retching, then gasping for air, then retching again, her body
convulsing with each new upheaval.
    And then, abruptly, the tape ended, replaced by the image of the commentator who had
introduced the piece. “And there you have it. Cynthia, what do you think?”
    She didn’t need to speak. The expression on Cynthia’s face effectively conveyed what she
thought. “Well . . . ,” she began slowly, “of course, dressing up or playacting during sex is not
that uncommon. The domination–subjugation model is a common facet of many people’s sex lives, and
some forms of . . . punishment, such as spanking, while arguably aberrant, are not that unusual.
But what we just witnessed on that videotape, particularly given the persons involved and the
apparent absence of consent, went far beyond the bounds of . . . of . . . I mean, did you hear
the girl vomiting? He obviously—”
    Ben switched the television off. “Ugh. Too much information.”
    Loving’s lower lip protruded. “I was kinda interested . . .”
    “I think we’ve seen enough. I don’t need the color commentary.”
    Christina had a hand pressed against her mouth. Her face had turned a greenish tint that, Ben
noted, did not go particularly well with the red hair. “Are you okay? That was rather gross.”
    “Übergross,” Christina corrected him. “What do you think will happen to Glancy?”
    Ben puffed out his cheeks. “Well, for starters, I think