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From: Souvie and Dryad <femecrivainNOSPAM@netdot.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} [birthday] Death by Chocolate (an ASS* mystery) by Souvie and Dryad
Date: Thu, 20 Feb 2003 03:10:05 -0500
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*This story isn't coded because if we coded it, it wouldn't be a
mystery!*

"Death by Chocolate"
(an ASS* mystery)
by Souvie and Dryad
copyright February 2003

The story is copyright by the authors. Any posting or distribution
without permission is not allowed. Comments can be made to: Dryad,
gbbjg@yahoo.com; Souvie, femecrivain@netdot.com

More stories by Dryad can be found at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Dryad/www/

More Trudy Tolliver stories, by Souvie, can be found at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Souvie/www

Expertly edited in record time by Desdmona and Denny.


Note from the authors: This is our birthday present to Gary. Enjoy,
big boy. ;-)

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =



La Taverna is a favorite haunt of mine. It serves the best food,
the most potent drinks, and boasts the most diverse crowd for miles
around. I couldn't begin to count the number of luncheons, one-on-one
parties, or simple shoot-the-bull sessions I'd had here. But this time
was different. This time the crowd was here at my invitation. I'd
cracked the biggest case to hit ASS* since Eli the Bearded's reign,
and it was time to share the finer points.

Not everyone had minded the starting hour so when the door swung open,
I was happy to see the last of the late arrivals.

"Hey, Jack Lipton, Vinnie, come on in. Take a seat, if you can find
one. If not, sit on someone's lap," I said with a wink.

Vinnie gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "Jack..." Vinnie said. "I
don't think you know Trudy Tolliver, our lovely reporter
extraordinaire."

I nodded to Jack, and ushered both men inside.  "The bar is open, and
I'm putting all the drinks on my company tab."

Altan whistled behind me. "That's gonna cost an arm and leg, knowing
this crowd."

Laughing, I replied, "My editor won't gripe too much when he sees the
bill, if he wants me to cover the Cattlemen's Ball this fall."

The group moved on to the bar, and I took one last peek outside. The
sun was setting and the sky was streaked with a palette of smoky
colors -- gray, crimson, and violet.

Inside, however, was a different story. . . .

The place was packed with ASS* folks: Lesbian writers, romance
writers, bondage and s&m writers, Americans, Australians, men, women,
sheep. . . you'd be hard pressed to find a more varied crowd outside
of Mos Eisley. Yet, they all had gathered for one reason--a reason
beyond their shared connection of writing about sex. Everyone wanted
to know, "Who killed Kenny?"

The room buzzed with activity. Conjugate, Alexis, and Dryad sat at one
table furiously grading papers. Souvie filled the fourth chair at the
table, her fingers pounding the keys of her laptop. Something about a
comparative literary analysis of Faulkner's "Barn Burning" and Gogol's
"The Nose."

Denny and Lisala huddled at the bar, nursing their single malts and
lamenting the curious dearth of posted stories since the start of the
New Year.  Mat Twassel sat near them, keeping one eye on his watch and
the other on his golf clubs propped up near the door.

Katie and Claudette sat knee-to-knee, arguing over cooking. Claudette
insisted chili had beans in it, while Katie informed her pal that she
wouldn't know fine cuisine if it hit her over the head. Anxious eyes
were glued to the pair, hoping the tiff would turn into a catfight
complete with ripped clothes and hair pulling.

At another table, a game of strip poker was well under way. Dr. Spin,
Nick Urfe, and Father Ignatius sat shivering in the near buff. Selena
sat across from them, warm as toast in complete attire. The gal was a
winner on all fronts!

Further back, Desdmona organized Fish Tank submissions and Jeff Z.
sifted through mountains of feedback he'd gotten on his latest JZL
chapter. Gary tapped away at his computer, updating the Silver
Clitorides website, and oosh was working out a deal to have her latest
story translated into Italian.

Frank McCoy, Homer, and Uther were debating which was most popular
with usenet readers: pedo, mc or rom.

Jimmy Hat and even Shon, dressed in full Coven of Bliss regalia, had
shown up for the occasion (One had to wonder what exactly they were
wearing under those robes.)

Stanton and Maytag zealously guarded the door to the men's room.
Yellow caution tape was plastered across the door and a padlock hung
at its handle. A hand-lettered sign proclaimed, "Do not feed the
trolls!" It wasn't Stanton and Maytag's normal gig, but Jimmy'd pulled
a few strings and they'd reluctantly agreed.

A large, black Borzoi wandered in, settled on his haunches, and
blocked the exit. It was time to get the show on the road.

I stepped up onto the stage and whistled into the microphone. The room
quieted without too much protest, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Maybe the night wouldn't be as bad as I'd thought.

"For those of you who don't remember me, I'm Trudy Tolliver. I work
for a newspaper in Dallas, and take odd jobs on the side when it suits
me: like this one."

A couple of familiar faces waved, and I winked back, self-conscious
all of a sudden. I was used to being around one erotica writer on a
regular basis, not dozens of them. But I took a deep breath and went
on.

"I was hired last year to solve a mystery. I was to find out who
killed Kenny. It doesn't matter who hired me, all that matters is that
I found the killer. It was..."

"Hang on!"

I frowned at the interruption. "Yes, Ray, what is it?"

"Haven't you watched Columbo, Murder She Wrote, or Remington Steele?
Don't just jump to the end of the story, girl. We want details! The
how, the why, and the in-betweens!"

I pushed aside the image of Pierce Brosnan in a black tux to
concentrate on the here and now. "I see your point."

I hopped down from the stage, nonchalantly walked to the corner of the
bar, and squeezed my way between Garylian and Tesseract. "You boys
don't mind, do you?" They shook their heads in unison like the Doublemint 
twins.

I went on. "You may remember the meeting we had last year. I was asked
to come here and discuss a missing writer -- Mr. Kenny Gamera.  I've
read many works from the authors here and recognize many others by
name, but I don't follow ASSD. Yet, I was still fascinated by the
job."

I took a drink of my Corona that the barkeep, Virago Blue, had slid my
way. All eyes remained focused on me. This was a crowd that loved a
good story, so I continued.

"I did what anyone who was investigating a missing person would do, I
started interviewing one at a time, in alphabetical order, just to
keep suspicions at a minimum.

"First up was Artie." I glanced at Artie in the corner with Wiseguy.
Artie was blushing. Poor guy. He knew he wasn't much of a challenge. A
flash of tit, a hand on his neck, and a good long suckle, and he was
putty.

"Artie had heard of Kenny, but didn't know him."

Ray piped up, "How'd you know that? He coulda been lying you know!"

I sighed and took another swig of my beer. Alcohol dribbled down the
crack of my cleavage. I caught it with my finger and slowly sucked it
from my fingertip "Ray, I assure you my methods of interrogation are
not only humane, but very, very effective."

"Hear, hear!" came from somewhere in the crowd, and I hid a grin
behind my bottle.

"Can I continue, Ray?"

"Okay, okay."



"Artie's stories read like a how-to in getting his *ahem *
cooperation. Nothing like a little hypnosis or a warm, soft breast.
Eh, Artie?" Artie turned pinker still.

Many heads nodded in agreement.

I grabbed my beer and moved away from the bar, serpentining through
the tables.

"Under hypnosis, Artie hinted that Alexis had been real fidgety for
the past few months. She was next on my list so I headed up North.
Sure, she was worried about Kenny, but she was equally concerned about
a shipment of chocolate she and a group of ASS*ers had sent to Gary. A
whole year's supply!"

Ray interrupted again. "What the hell does that have to do with the
story? Everyone knows Gary's a chocolate freak."

I had thought the same thing at first. I cleared my throat, faking
exasperation. "Give me some time, and all will be clear.

"The problem was, Gary never received it. A whole year's supply of
chocolate--missing. Missing like Kenny was missing. There had to be a
connection. It was easy to let Alexis off the hook. After reading
'Monsters' I was pretty sure if she was going to kill someone, Kenny
wouldn't be her first choice."  I sauntered back over to the bar for a
refill. Maybe a lemonade without the vodka, or I would be sloshed
before I could finish.

"I knew that the chocolate was ordered from Spotlights, a candy
company on the West Coast. It would need to be shipped to the East. I
also knew that Alexis wouldn't trust it to be shipped by any
commercial operation." I swiped the lemonade from the counter and
threw a kiss to Virago. I downed half of it before continuing. "I
remembered something Souvie had said to me once about a truck driver
so I had a good idea who Alexis had called."

I wove my way through the tables until I stood directly behind cmsix.
Beads of sweat dotted the back of his neck. "cmsix agreed to haul the
chocolate across country, and deliver it to Gary."

"So cmsix stole it!" Ray shouted.

There was one in every crowd. I just shook my head. "Ray, shhh."

I leaned down and sat my drink on the table in front of cmsix, making
sure my breast "accidentally" brushed against his shoulder. I felt him
shudder.

"Anyway, it wasn't that hard, no pun intended, to get the information
I needed from cmsix. I made arrangements for him to come to my hotel
room, and I just happened to be in the shower when he arrived. I asked
him to wash my back for me, and he obliged." I leaned down and gave
cmsix a kiss on the top of his head. "And let me say, he did a *very*
thorough job."

The room erupted in laughter and cmsix turned blood red.

"He also agreed to transport the chocolate, and everything was going
according to plan, until he hit West Texas."

By that point, I'd made my way to another table. "cmsix drove his rig
toward Del Rio when suddenly he saw a turtle in the middle of the
road.  He swerved to miss the turtle, lost control of the truck,
smacked his head on the side window and blacked out. When he came to,
the chocolate was gone, and the only thing left in the back of the
truck was a handful of chocolate chips.

"What came next is a little sketchy. The crash was pretty bad. The
truck jackknifed, and the trailer tipped over.  cmsix must've knocked
his head pretty hard, because he had one hell of a concussion.
Luckily, he had crashed just outside of the town where Katie lived."

All eyes turned to Katie. She slyly grinned.

"Fortunately, Katie recognized the bumper sticker, 'If I have to choose
between heaven and Texas, I'd rather go to Texas' on the door of
cmsix's cab. How she got him out and home, I didn't ask, but we know
how determined Katie can be, so I really wasn't surprised.

"I found both of them at Katie's ranch. Umm...Have any of you ever been
to her ranch?" I'll admit, I blushed. A few heads nodded, some just
looked at me quizzically.  Katie, damn her, just sat there smiling
like the cat who ate the canary. I quickly continued.

"Katie had cmsix set up in one of the spare rooms, and one of her
uh...umm, assistants was tending him.  Katie didn't know what cmsix
had been transporting. She only knew he kept muttering, 'that damned
turtle'.

"The investigation looked to be at a dead end. But looks can be
deceiving.  Katie offered me a place to stay while I waited for cmsix
to focus again. It gave me time to check out the crash scene for any
more clues."

I took a deep drink, finishing off the lemonade and raised a hand to
Virago, "Another Corona." Virago nodded.

"Did I ask if any of you have been to Katie's ranch before?" Several
people snickered. Katie reached over and stroked my thigh, wreaking
havoc on what was left of my concentration.  I moved away, a movement
that made quite a few people, including Katie, chuckle. I went on.

"I went out to the scene. The only thing left was a stain of brown on
the side of the road."

Someone giggled.

"The stain was melted chocolate," I explained in a 'Why me?' kind of
voice. "I wondered if cmsix was doing his version of Jim Morrison's
'Lizard King,' only with a different reptile."

"Aha! Kenny stole the chocolate and cmsix tried to kill him to get it
back!" Ray punched the air in triumph. "I knew it all along."

Enough was enough. "Ray," I said in a stern voice, "time-out."

He gave me a little-boy look, but it wasn't working.

"Go. Now." I motioned for Souvie to "attend" to him.

"I'll turn on the speakers in the 'time-out' room so we can hear the
rest of the story," Souvie said with a delighted smile. It'd been
weeks since anyone had been sent to detention and I knew she had a new
batch of feathers she was itching to try out. They marched out of the
room. Ray looked pretty dang happy for someone who was heading for
detention.

"To continue, I went to Kenny's house but there was no sign of him.
The place was a mess--rotting food, papers piling up, mailbox
overflowing. It looked like no one had been there in weeks.

"It's a federal crime to tamper with someone else's mail, but I
figured if it was on the ground, it was fair game."

I sat down at a table with Aquillae and Crimson Dragon, but didn't
stop the story. "One postcard caught my attention. It was from
Aquillae." I put my hand on Aquillae's shoulder. "The postcard was
thanking Kenny for his recent contribution. Now what had Kenny
contributed? I took a little visit out to Aquillae's studio. He was
working, but I had a few questions for him."

"He's working on a new video?" someone asked.

"Yes, he is, but that's part of my story," I answered, picking up
Aquillae's drink and taking a sip. My throat was on fire. I started
coughing, and he patted me on the back. When my head cleared, I
realized I'd lost my bra. Damn erotica writers and their quick hands.
Oh well, I had plenty more at home, and at least I wasn't wearing
white; my blue t-shirt hid enough.

"Now, Aquillae was indeed working on a new video, titled 'Chocoerotica'.
As soon as I heard the title, I had a good idea what Kenny's
contribution had been.

"I arrived on the set bright and early, eager to get to what I thought
would be the end of my investigation. Let me tell you, I had a great
time! I met Bernadette! She's just as wonderful in person as she is on
camera, and I'd kill to have her luxurious red hair. . ." I realized I
was starting to ramble like a star-struck teenager, and got back on
track.

"Anyway, Aquillae answered all my questions, after a price, of
course." I gave him a stern look, but at his leer, I dissolved into
giggles. His hand snaked up the hem of my shirt, and I pasted on a
"serious" look. "He wouldn't answer my questions until I'd auditioned,
and let me tell you, the casting couch was comfy! And um, well, you
can imagine the rest." He hit a ticklish spot just northwest of my
ribs, and I jumped up.

"Aquillae was looking for a prop for his new production, and sent out
feelers for it, just word of mouth. He was looking for 100 lbs. of
chocolate that he could melt down to use in his latest picture. Kenny
had heard about it, and when he saw cmsix unconscious and all that
chocolate in the back of the truck just sitting there, he took it."

I hastened to add, "Kenny had no idea it was for Gary. I'm sure if he
had he never would have taken it. I asked Aquillae if he had any idea
where Kenny was, but he said that he hadn't seen him after he paid him
for the chocolate. I informed Aquillae that the chocolate was stolen
and had originally been intended as a birthday present for Gary. He
was deeply apologetic and gave me what he hadn't used yet. But I'll
come back to that.

"In the meantime, Alexis, not knowing I had found a link, was actually
working on the missing chocolate as well. She hired Scas." There was a
collective gasp. Alexis cringed in her seat at the various evil
glares.

I frowned. "I found this information out when I called to ask her what
she'd like me to do with the remaining chocolate. What possessed her?
I don't know.  Scas would never win a popularity contest, and he
certainly wasn't the type that people would talk freely with. He would
probably have to resort to his brawn.

"I'd been following ASSD during the investigation, looking for clues.
When I found out Alexis had hired Scas, I knew Kenny was in trouble.
If Scas could irritate that many loving people," several audience
members winked at me, "I was certain he could be downright violent in
person." Many people nodded in agreement.

"This of course, made me feel a bit nervous, I'll be honest.  I had no
idea what he looked like. He could be a 90-lb weakling that I could
kick his ass with one hand, or a 300-lb sumo who could twist my tits
off." I saw a few women cringe, and a few others, well, took a very
long drink of their water.

"So, I went back to Souvie.  I knew ASS*'ers wouldn't have the money
for a bodyguard, but she came up with the next best thing. She gave me
a short list of members who might be coerced into helping.

"Father Nat was first.  Fortunately for us, he was vacationing in the
US, verifying the accuracy of his member pictures." I sashayed over to
his table, sitting on his very comfortable lap. Luckily, Selena hadn't
won his skivvies yet.  No need to tell everyone I'd seen him at Nick
Scipio's Jazz Club a few times since the investigation. He smiled
warmly at me, and gave me a rather personal hello when my ass touched
his lap; I didn't realize his fly was open! My eyes closed happily.
Someone cleared his throat and my eyes flew open. Distracted, I tried
to continue.

"I tracked Nat down to New England, where he'd met up with our friend
Dryad." I blew a kiss in her direction.  "They'd set up a meeting at
one of those Indian casinos out there. It seems Dryad has a penchant
for massages and hot tubs, and they have excellent masseuses there."

I moaned as Nat shifted, and then he nuzzled my ear. "Nat wasn't
entirely interested in assisting, but Dryad shared my concern, so she
offered her help in coercing Nat."

As I said this, I realized Dryad had stood up and was now behind
Father Nat, nibbling his neck. "Well, um, I guess I don't need to tell
you how we coerced him."

Dryad began kissing Father Nat passionately.  I shuddered in a small
climax, and tried to shake off the sexual stupor I was in.  Damn it,
I'm supposed to be a professional! I noisily slid off Nat's lap, where
Dryad took my place.  Breathing heavily, I continued.

"With Alexis' help, Nat and I tracked down Scas.  When we found him,
he was very, well, uncooperative. We called Wiseguy, hoping he'd have
some time.  He met us, and we formed a plan: Nat would hold Scas,
while Wiseguy injected him with a drug. The drug would enable Wiseguy
to hypnotize Scas.

"My job was to ask the questions. All things considered it went fairly
well. And like I said, Scas has made some enemies. It was too tempting
not to teach the old bugger a lesson or two while he was under the
hypnosis.

"After Scas was pretty far under, Nat didn't need to hold him down. So
Nat came and kept me company. Let me tell you ladies, Nat sure knows
how to keep company! Wiseguy got all hot and bothered watching Nat and
me. So needless to say, Scas now has a taste for creampies." The
tittering in the audience grew to outright guffaws.  I knew that would
make them happy. I raised my hands to quiet them down.

"After the sale of the chocolate, Kenny decided to do some
celebrating, and went off to Argosy casino on the Ohio River. Scas had
followed Kenny. He jumped him in the parking lot before Kenny got to
gamble a single nickel."

"Poor Kenny," someone cried. "He never had a chance,"

"That would've been the end, but for two things.  First, there was no
body. Second, I got a call from Desdmona. Souvie told her to get in
touch with me.

"Des recently had a change in assignment, and was moved to a long-term
care facility. Imagine her surprise upon discovering a turtle with
amnesia there. She'd never seen pictures of Kenny, but she'd never
seen a turtle in a hospital before either.

"I got there, and realized it was indeed Kenny.  So Kenny wasn't dead.

"Kenny's not dead?" The crowd began to get excited. "Yay! Kenny's not
dead! Kenny's not dead!"

As if on cue, the black Borzoi moved away from the door and in walked
Kenny. He hobbled straight to me, the crowd cheering him all the way.

"Since I had all the facts, I had to assist a bit in Kenny's
rehabilitation." Kenny smiled impishly. I kissed him on his cheek.

"You'll all be glad to know Scas is now being detained in the troll
room, where, from what I understand, celia has tied him down, awaiting
any woman with a pussy full of cum. She has also laid out a few of her
favorite whips, and highly suggests their use.  I understand ASS*ers
have set his sentence at 10,000 cunt suckings, after which, he will be
banned."

There was a lot of clapping and whistling at this announcement, just
as I'd knew there would be. I stood in front of the stage and waited
for the cheering to die down. "Now that we know what really happened
to Kenny, it's time to come back to that earlier bit: what happened to
the remaining bit of Gary's chocolate."

At that, Jacques LeBlanc and Leowulf came from behind the curtain,
carrying a cloth-covered tray between them. They made their way down
the stairs towards Gary. "The chocolate that Aquillae returned to me
was melted and after some discussion with Alexis, we decided that
this would be the best way of making it up to you, you know, that it's
a year late and that most of it's missing." I laughed, anticipating
the look on Gary's face when Jacques drew off the cloth.

Sure enough, he didn't disappoint me. Gary's jaw dropped to the ground
when Jacques revealed what was under the cloth. "You're not seeing
things, Gary, those are indeed miniature replicas of several ass*
women - nude. Now you can say you've "eaten" Des, and Alexis and. . .
well, I'm sure you'll be able to identify them all, one way or
another."

My job was complete, well almost. "Someone tell Souvie to let Ray out
of detention," I yelled, then I wove my way through the throng of
people and up to the bar. "Kahlua and cream," I ordered. "And put
some chocolate in there, too, Virago."

I was surrounded by a lusty group of sex writers and alcohol laced
with chocolate - it was going to be one hell of a night.

THE END

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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