Pixie Pt. 04 Ch. 08: Nik and Nak


Well, they say that one should never stereotype, and the five lesbians who stepped out of the taxi clearly didn’t conform to anyone’s preconceived notion of what a Sapphic night out should look like, although the keen-eyed observer would have spotted that we had covered most of the bases. But, while we may have dressed differently, we were united in a shared understanding of what we aimed to achieve on the night we went through the looking glass and entered Wonderland.

Alice, in Wonderland, was continually surprised, but the Sinn detectives were in no mood for surprises. As an Australian I had grown up with cricket metaphors, and explained carefully to the American and the Canadian how appropriate they were in describing our Wonderland strategy; Pixie, bless her, nodded, but clearly knew as much about cricket as she did about men’s cocks, which is to say next to nothing.

But I am nothing if not persistent when it comes to metaphors, especially Australian sporting metaphors, and, at the risk of losing the Americans, the Canadians and the Pixieites, I will use them to shine a light on our plan of campaign.

Mel and I were to open the batting. As Miss Sinn had instructed, “Annie, you and Mel know Nic-Nak, they are the younger daughters of the legendary Russian billionaire the late Mr. Xxxx, but they need to be taken out for play tonight. I have a suspicion that they will end up being key to how we can solve this case.”

And, as was generally the case, Miss Sinn was right (almost). Mel and my key roles ended up lighting the fuse that would eventually lead to an explosion. And lest it be thought that is a melodramatic metaphor, stay with me and you will see otherwise.

Number three on the batting order was the Oscar-winning actress, the delightful Emm. That position in a cricket team is given to the most attractive player and Emm certainly fitted that bill. She had been the key to unlocking Wonderland and her mark that night was Katrina the oldest daughter of the late Mr. Xxxx.

Fortunately, Emm knew Katrina and was fully au-fait, and indeed overexcited, by her proclivities, a case of super-sub appreciating super-domme, I guess. Miss Sinn had, however, rightly cautioned us, “Remember Emm doesn’t know what we are trying to achieve in Wonderland, so whatever we do we must not put her in danger.”

And again, as was generally the case, Miss Sinn was right. Emm would ensure that her seduction by Katrina would be like a hot knife sliding through butter. But we would need more than seduction, as it turned out, we would need to work Wonderland to our advantage. And Katrina, rather than Emm, would have to submit for that to happen, and even then, we would need a stroke of good fortune.

As any cricket fan knows, number four on the batting order can be the most important position and so it turned out for the Sinn team. Fortunately, our most experienced player, the revered Miss Sinn, occupied that position. But her mark, the second sister Katherine, was the most enigmatic of the four sisters. We knew from Emm that she was reputedly somewhat submissive, but beyond that Miss Sinn would be feeling her way. Feeling her way was, fortunately, something Miss Sinn had considerable experience in doing around women.

While it was still well in the future, when we looked back on this case, there would be one crucial moment on which success or failure depended. And success occurred because Miss Sinn succeeded in doing to Katherine what no other woman had done before.

Next in our batting order was the petite player Pixie. She may not have had a mark, but with that freedom came responsibility. As Miss Sinn pointed out, “Pixie, we need to know whether these bitches nicked the National Gallery painting and if so where it actually is. I know Annie thinks it might be in Wonderland but that isn’t good enough. Exact location Pixie.”

“And,” Miss Sinn continued, addressing all her detectives, “No matter where the painting is we need to be able to get to it, get hold of it, get out with it, and preferably not raise suspicions.”

Pixie looked at Miss Sinn like she was the Mad Hatter. “I think that is a tall order,” she commented, adding in full Mini-Mary Poppins mode, “that you will find that a spoonful of sugar will help the medicine go down, in the most delightful way.”

Miss Sinn looked at her quizzically.

“Well, Pixie, I hope if it comes to going down, you’ll do it in your usual obedient way.”

Pixie blushed. To save her further embarrassment we responded to Miss Sinn’s rousing chorus that we all needed to work as a team.

“Yes, Miss Sinn,” we all chorused, aware that if we failed to work together, Wonderland would defeat us.

As for the sixth member of the team, my instincts are not to mention him. After all his name, Bruno, suggests he doesn’t bat for our side. And Miss Sinn hadn’t actually set out what his role actually was. But I live with Mel, who is certainly capable of removing conjugal privileges for any apparent under-appreciation of the one she has slept with many more times than Pixie and I.

So, like it or not (and bursa escort you will have gathered my view), Bruno was on the team. And it turned out that he was actually ‘armed’ for the evening.

Now every Australian has been born knowing that a cricket team comprises eleven players and as such using cricket as an analogy for the Sinn detective agency falls short by five players.

And that is both right in theory and wrong in this particular case. For there actually were eleven on our team playing in this game. But not even Miss Sinn knew about the other five who were practicing the game of Sinn. Their role would become clear after we were clear about Wonderland.

But all that was ahead of us as we stepped out of the taxi and entered Wonderland.

It was Emm who pressed the buzzer.

The maid who answered was the very image of a sexy maid, short skirt, stockings, suspenders, and frilly panties. I could see Miss Sinn licking her lips.

“The Sinn party for Miss Katrina and Miss Katherine,” Emm declared.

That parted the Red Sea, and we were in.

The security arrangements would not have disgraced the Bank of England.

We had to pass through the sort of detectors they use at airports, which revealed that Emm was wearing a butt plug, Miss Sinn suspenders which set the machine off, and Bruno had enough metal in him to keep the detector beeping for a few minutes. Mel blushed and explained that she kept he vibrators there and had forgotten to remove them. My nipple rings also set the detectors off, which led to a delightful frisking by a very sexy security guard whose tits looked like they had a life of their own. Miss Sinn’s offer to help was rejected. Only little Pixie got away scot-free, which puzzled me, until she told me later that she had removed her butt-plug.

Nic was first on the scene and seeing my outfit she gushed, telling me how sexy I looked, and we swapped notes on fashion designers and shoe shops. It turned out that I was right, she knew Oli, the sexy Selfridges spy girl, and we exchanged anecdotes about her sexual insatiability.

“Darling,’ she said to me, I do hope this means that your little friend can spend time with Nak, and their fucking teddy bears can butt out of our lives. By the way, who is that gorgeous woman with Emm?”

I introduced her to the team. She took one look at Miss Sinn, who was positively licking her lips, and gave her a huge hug.

“Oh, but my sister Kit will love you. And if she is too stupid to do that, I will. You, me and Annie here, we could fuck the night away.”

“Suits me,” said Miss Sinn with admirable brevity.

“But I forget myself, do come through, tea is served in the antechamber.”

So, with no further ado, we were ushered through to a room decorated with pictures of the Mad Hatter and his tea party. Nak was easily identified. Sucking her dummy, she brightened up at the sight of Mel and Bruno and insisted that her teddy, Ivan, gave Bruno a big hug, while she did the same with Mel.

The look on Nic’s face was priceless.

Katrina, a striking buxom faux-blonde with tits to match and a dress tight enough to match Emm’s, squealed her delight at seeing Emm.

“My darling,” she said breathily, I am so pleased you have brought your, how do you English say, chum here, it seems to me we have a perfect match.”

I made the introductions. Miss Sinn and Kit, Katherine, eyed each other warily.

I could see that the sisters were intrigued, but could not see quite how we were to manage the next stage. That was where little Pixie piped up.

“Now, girls,” she said to Mel and Nak, “I think Nanny should take you to the nursery for a special tea, while the big girls get to know each other properly.”

Nic, Kit and Kat all looked relieved. Kat issued instructions to the maid to take the tea things next door for “the children”.

Pixie, in full Mini-Mary Poppins mode led them through, winking to me as they went.

Before outlining what transpired as the A team got down to work, I will let Pixie describe what happened in the Nursery as, contrary to my expectations, that turned out to be critical.

oooo 0000 oooo

I left the big girls to their machinations. I was sure that they would have fun, but knowing how adults talk around those they consider children, I suspected that we should find that Nak knew more than Miss Annie thought.

It was so delightful to see the way Nak and Mel gelled. Their teddies, of course, provided the bridge across which they met. Nak loved Mel’s uniform, and Mel was just so sweet with Nak, who was dressed in full Alice in Wonderland mode, complete with delightful white socks. I complimented her on her pretty blue dress and white apron, and served them both tea in little cups with spouts, and cut their cake into small slices.

“There, little ones, Nanny will take care of you both.”

Mel played up beautifully, which encouraged Nak to do the same.

We made sure that Ivan and Bruno had their food, and Mel was suitably stern with Ivan who, unlike Bruno, seemed not to appreciate the bursa escort bayan cupcakes on offer; it had to be admitted that Bruno needed a good dry clean later, but it was worth it.

‘Mel, darling, why don’t you share with little Nak what Bruno has in his tummy?”

“Oooh, Nanny,” Nak gasped, “what does he have in his tummy?”

“Show her Mel.”

Mel unzipped him and showed Nak the two vibrators.

“Oooh, what they?” Nak enquired, as though she’d never seen such a thing.

“Show her, Mel,” I said encouragingly.

Mel giggled.

“Well, Nak, if you open your little legs, I can show you.”

Nak giggled, but parted her legs; she knew, of course, what Mel had.

Mel knelt, turning on the vibrator, applying it to her crotch. Nak giggled, and then began to sigh as the vibrations had their effect.

“Now, girls,” I said in my best nanny voice, “I think we really ought to share, don’t you? Good girls share.”

“Yes Nanny Pix,” said Mel, which got Nak to say the same thing. She was clearly into aping what Mel said, a not uncommon trait of “littles.”

“Littles” are among the most misunderstood people in any sexual community. They are not pedophiles, but rather adults who seek comfort in regressing to a child-like state, and take their adult sexuality with them. They are not interested in sex with children, they are interested in acting like a child emotionally because that is where they feel comfortable; but their sexuality is adult and to be practised with other adults. Nak and Mel may have been dressed as younger people, but their needs were those of adult lesbians. My job was to facilitate their fulfilment.

“Bruno has a secret room at home, doesn’t he Mel?” I thought I’d pique Nak’s interest and competitive spirit.

“Yes, he does, Nanny Pixie, and he has secret stuff there as well as in his tummy.”

“Well,” ventured Nak, “Ivan has one too, so there!” She pulled a tongue at Mel, who reciprocated.

“Well, Bruno has secret paintings in his, so yah boo sucks to you!”

“Me and Ivan has such a secret painting we can’t even tells you we has it,” she giggled.

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“Ah,” I said, “well Mel, it seems that Nak and Ivan win this game, so give her a rub under her panties. Pull them aside darling Nak.”

“Yes Nanny Pixie,” Nat giggled, as Mel turned up the force of the vibrator.

So, we had established that there was a secret room, and that it had a painting, it was not, I felt, too great a leap of logic to say we had found the general location of the painting.

I texted Annie:

“It is here, there is a secret room, will find out more.”

oooo 0000 oooo

I got Pixie’s text at a good moment.

Nic was caressing my stockings as I was stroking her hair, and we were exchanging sweet nothings about shoe seller we knew. I told her we were fine, that the “kids” were with “Nanny”.

“Brilliant idea my darling Annie, Nak can be so needy. That cute Nanny, she looks younger than they are, you sure she is up to it?”

I assured Nic that Pixie was up to most things. She went higher, reaching my thighs and began to stroke them, just above my stocking tops.

This was positively vanilla compared to what Kat was doing with Emm, or rather to her. Emm was already down to her stockings and suspenders, her arse raised high to show the pink head of the butt plug, and she was being whipped soundly.

I looked over to Miss Sinn and Kit. If our information was right, it was Kit who was the key to the location of the painting. The two of them were fencing, sizing each other up. As Nic began to tug on my cunt lips, having pulled my panties to one side, I just about had enough composure to eavesdrop.

“Miss Sinn, I am not a submissive lady, so it would be a waste of time to think you can subdue me.”

“In which case, we can watch your sisters playing with my friends and lovers, and your asshole can miss out on the delights of Sinn.”

Kit looked interested.

“I love having my ass licked, so you do that do you?”

‘Does the fucking duck quack?” Angie was on her knees, and persuaded Kit to turn over and bend.

At this point, with Kat’s lips firmly grasping my clit, my attention wandered, but as the CCTV showed later, Angie did a wonderful number on Kit’s arse. Starting down at her dripping cunt, she licked upwards until the tips of her tongue rimmed Kit’s arsehole. The more Angie pushed her tongue into it, the more Kit gasped.

The noise was drowned by Emm screaming:

“I am a deviant whore, beat me, beat me Miss.”

Kat laid into her with a vengeance, and even in the black and white video, you could see Emm’s arse turning bright red.

You could also see Kat’s head under my skirt and her hands on my tits, which she was mauling with enthusiasm; for some reason, Pixie seems to have that part on permanent loop on her phone.

But it was Miss Sinn’s performance rather than Emm’s which brought up our century as a team, if, as it was in my view, the century was getting bursa merkez escort to the goal we wanted.

With Kit groaning with pleasure as Miss Sinn’s tongue fucked her arse, Angie then thrust three fingers up her needy cunt. Waiting until Kit was on the edge, she stopped, leaving the Russian girl moaning.

“You sound like a needy little bitch to me, Kit. I think you may be a slut. Are you?”

Kit was so needy she nodded.

“Right, let me blindfold you and bind you.”

Kit nodded.

This allowed Angie to put on the blindfold which captured a retinal scan, and gloves which captured her fingerprints. These were sent to Pixie in case she needed them. Angie then fucked Kit senseless, the bound and blindfolded Russian capitulating as much as Emm did. I had to hope that Pixie could do the deed. We were keeping the main Russian batting order pinned down, everything now depended on the tail-enders, so to speak.

ooo 0000 ooo

Miss Sinn’s scans were perfect, and well-timed.

Nak had had her first orgasm, and was gripping Ivan as Mel soothed her.

“My darlings, now you have had your tea, perhaps we could find a nice room to play in more privately?”

Nak sucked her thumb. She was still coming down from Mel’s treatment of her clit.

“They haven’t got a nice room like Bruno has, Nanny Pixie,” Mel teased.

‘Have so,” pouted Nak.

“Have so not,” teased Mel. “Show me.”

‘Can’t,” pouted Nak.

“Liar, liar panties on fire,” Mel jeered.

“I am sure you do have one Nak, I am sure you could show Nanny, and no one would mind. I can come and supervise you.”

Nak’s eyes widened, and she smiled.

“You be the adult and it be your fault,” she giggled, “Kit spank your bum.”

I giggled, thinking the idea had its attractions.

Nak led us down the stairs to a room with a locked door. She had the key and showed us in.

It was an opulent room which clearly doubled as a gambling den and orgy chamber. What attracted my interest was a large locked door at the end of the room.

Nak was teasing Mel, and Mel was kissing her. Once aroused, Nak’s reaction to Mel’s tits was far from child-like. She was sucking and fondling for all she was worth. Mel slid her thigh between Nak’s, and the two of them were soon tribbing.

Armed with the scans, I went to the door. As I had expected from my knowledge of what Ekaterina, Emm’s Russian Mistress, used to guard her secrets, there were two scans, one retinal, the other fingerprints. Crossing my fingers that one set would do, I applied the phone to the scanners as Mel groaned with pleasure.

The door opened. There it was. Swiftly, I put it into my Mary Poppins carpet-bag and shut the door, looking round guiltily,

I need not have bothered, Nak was eating Mel out, which prompted the latter to switch to a classic 69 position. The erotic effect made me wet, but I had to concentrate. The problem now was how we got the painting out without it being clear we had it. That would expose Emm to reprisals.

Fortunately, it was little Nak who came up with the answer.

She and Mel orgasmed at the same time. As they basked in the afterglow, Nak giggled.

“We should do what big girls do, have cigarette after fuck.”

Mel did not smoke but I nodded to her, and she said that was a good idea.

The room had at least three smoke detectors in it. Cigarettes would set off the alarms and sprinklers, and that might help cover our retreat.

They lit up.

ooo 0000 ooo

The orgasm was so powerful I thought I heard alarms going off in my head. Fuck, that Russian bitch could lick cunt. Then as I focused, I saw lights flashing. Fuck, that orgasm had, I thought, been even better than I thought.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Miss Sinn yelled.

But even as I searched for my panties, and Emm straightened herself up, we heard an explosion as the front-door was blown off its hinges. The room was filled with a police SWAT team. Before I could find my panties, I’d been handcuffed by a pretty blonde policewoman, and saw the naked Emm being carried downstairs. Kit and Kat were expostulating with the police, and Miss Sinn was trying to find her shoes.

I was not sure it was strictly necessary for the blonde to feel my tits with such thoroughness, but my nipples were not complaining. The SWAT girls were making heavy weather of searching Emm, which I remember thinking was odd, as she was nude and her arse was striped red. Still, she, too, was not complaining, judging by the moans. Before we knew where we were, we were in the Black Maria, where the SWAT team got to work on us all.

Emm was the first to cum, as the probing of her cunt and arse set her off on a stream of orgasms which lasted most of the way back to the station. Miss Sinn seemed to be having her mouth explored by the black policewoman with the phat arse, and loving the experience. Nik, Kit and Kat were all arguing, and ended up gagged. In between feeling as though I wanted to cum, I wondered that had happened to Pixie. Had she got the painting?

Back at the Police Headquarters, we were all frisked, if that if the word for having our cunts examined with great thoroughness. I have no idea what they thought we were concealing there, but in sequence the Sinn Girls and the Russians all came at least twice. As we lay there, recovering, the door opened.

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