TracerBulletBilly: Stolen Princess Panties!

This entry was a collaborative effort brought to you by the always Incredible Princess Grace, the sparkling jem and me. Thanks MsGrace and jem for your help and in particular that mp3 MsGrace! Your pets love it so when You play with us, and to give some of Your time during this season ... WOW! OK let's play, have fun and cause trouble!

Tracer and Friday enter the agency office after having just left the start of MsGrace's TeaseTime.

Tracer says, "Friday did you get a slant at this MsGrace? That room was packed, I couldn't glom anything!"

"Um, no Tracer, as soon as that MsGrace dame came into the room, I kept getting shoved aside and crowded out! Well, except for that one drooling jerkoff boy who kept trying to squeeze my cantaloupes."

"Well how are we going to learn anything about this Mistress culture if you drag me out of a TeaseTime event? How am I going to get wise about "cock control?" As if any Tomato could ever control Tracer's cock!"

"I know what you mean Tracer, only a pathetic loser would let that happen to them! I'm so glad I'm a girl, I'm completely immune to that sort of thing."

Both Tracer and Friday have a good chuckle at anyone who would submit to a Mistress.

"Yeppers Friday, no Kitten will get her claws into Tracer. I'm always on top and in control"

"You mean like when you were almost popped like a grape by Giantess Gretchen?"

"um ... no"

"Oh then you mean when MsTara spanked your ass and stood you in the corner?"

"Dammit Friday! You know what I mean ... sheesh! So where's the skirt?"

"Oh she's not here, I wanted you to hear the message on the answering machine."

Friday presses the PLAY button

"What a voice! At least we're not gonna have to find Grandma's panties, that would be weird! She seems pretty damned determined to get those panties back! Particularly those SuperGirl panties!"

"Tracer, you wouldn't understand the personal bond a girl gets with her panties, how special they are to her."

"Of course I wouldn't Friday, do I look like a dame to you? What sort of sicko would steal all of her panties?! That's just greedy! We'll find the panty wearing, rubbing, sniffing deviant when we find the SuperGirl ones!"

"Did you hear how she tripped up over 'pretty pink panties' Tracer? She's obviously just a delicate, sensitive girl lost and helpless in this mean ol' world! It's obvious she's very shy. She needs our help!"

"Well no dish is ever going to feel violated or naked when Tracer is with her!"

"Are you gay?"

"Bite me Friday!"

Both Friday and Tracer stop talking hearing footsteps casually coming down the hall. A real looker of a brunette enters in a Versace overcoat. She looks both dark and moody and open and honest. She has gun metal gray eyes, flowing hair and a beautiful smile. Tracer likes her immediately but can't put his finger on why.

"Mr. Bullet? Did you get my message?"

"And you might be? ..."

"Oh! I'm so sorry! You may call me Grace, later, as we get to know each other, you will call me other things ... ::giggles::"

Tracer is hoping he hasn't drawn another goof ball as she hands him her overcoat. She smells faintly of cotton candy. She smells faintly of fun. Tracer stops dead in his tracks as he was starting to hang up the coat.

Grace is dressed in a tight, black leather corset, black fishnet stockings, vinyl panties and long, thigh-high black stiletto boots. She's carrying a flogger in her left hand.

"I'm sorry to have come dressed in my riding attire Mr. Bullet. I've just come from my stables. I came in such a rush I even forgot to leave my riding crop in the car."

"You own horses?" Tracer asks thinking horses mean money!

"Um, I tend to think of them as 'pets' Mr. Bullet"

She turns to Friday and lights her up with a dazzling smile, "And you must be? ..."

Friday has backed up against the wall and looks very much like those broads in the vampire movies who are about to succumb to Dracula. Extreme lust and fear alternate across her face. She can't get her name out though her jaw is flapping like a door in a hurricane.

"For the love of Mike! Her name is Friday," says Tracer in disgust at his weak willed gal pal.

Grace is slowly approaching Friday, her body moving with malice. She's still smiling but it's become quite wicked.

"Awwww Friday, whats the matter? Cat got your tongue? I think I've heard about girls like you Friday. Some girls like to play soft and sweet but others like to play very very rough. Do you like to play rough Friday?"

Friday is starting to look as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

Grace has pinned Friday to the wall practically kissing her. Her right hand slowly sliding up Friday's inner thigh, the left is rubbing the handle end of the flogger slowly across Friday's lips.

"I think Friday likes to play rough Tracer ::giggles::," Grace says while never taking her eyes off of Friday. She begins to whisper to Friday just loud enough for Tracer to hear in the suddenly very quiet room, "Well Friday I'll tell you a little secret, I love to play rough with sweet little cutie pies like you. Do you want to plaaay with me? I think you doooo. If so you've got to whisper a certain word in my ear, it start's with an 'M' You have to say 'Yes ...'"

Tracer turns away, grabs Friday's iPod off the desk and hits the play button, wiping out Friday's wimpy moans and Grace's soft whispering. Devo's Whip It. Super. Tracer sits at his desk reading the paper, waiting for this to end. Over Devo telling him to "Whip it good" he suddenly hears Grace say, "Oh Friday, that's such a good girl! I love it when you call me that!! When we're alone you will always address me in that manner."

She turns away from Friday who's in some sort of catatonic state. Want and need burn across Friday's face as she starts making some kind of soft little moany sounds.

Grace comes around the desk, grabs Tracer by his Spiderman tie standing him up and says, "Mr. Bullet it's not polite to sit when a lady is still standing, although I'm never offended if you kneel ::giggles::. What are your rates for finding my panties Mr. Bullet?"

"$350/day plus expenses. We'll have to do a lot of sniffing around to find those panties I'm afraid."

She smiles softly, staring up at Tracer, "Mr. Bullet. I can't afford those rates. I need to spend my money on toys and clothes, not on silly little dicks." Tracer is reevaluating her eyes. They're much more ocean like than gun metal gray. Deep and complicated eyes. Tracer feels himself getting lost in those eyes, her voice, her. He doesn't even notice his zipper sliding down, her soft hands pulling his cock out, pulling on it, rubbing it.

She gently whispers in Tracer's ear, "I'm a pretty good judge of character Mr. Bullet. May I call you Tracer? I think you like it soft. Would you like me to be soft for you? Gentle?" Her hands continue their rhythm.

Tracer snaps to his senses and jams a roscoe into her button and says, "Close your yap you cock teasing bitch, or I squirt metal!"

Grace looks downward and Tracer follows her gaze. The head of his cock, oozing precum is rubbing across the front of her corset. Grace giggles, takes her left hand and gently raises Tracer's head until he's staring back into those beautiful eyes.

"I don't think it's metal you're about to squirt, Tracer, and that doesn't look like a roscoe to me ::giggles::"

She resumes her whispering, her rubbing and pulling, "You want me to be happy don't you? You don't want to charge me for this case, do you? I know you want to play with me Tracer, need to play with me. You have to whisper one little word in my ear, just one and you know I'll make it all better, it starts with an 'M' You have to say 'Yes ...'"

From far away, from deep inside his soul Tracer hears himself say 'the M-word'

"Awwww that's such a good boy! I so much love it when you call me that! When we're alone you will always call me that, right Tracer?"

"Yes M..."

"Shhhhh you silly little dick, we're not alone ::giggles:: I am so glad we've reached our little arrangement. Friday, front and center, snap to it girl!"

Friday snaps out of it, grabs the dame’s coat, and runs it over to her like she was shot out of a cannon.

Before Tracer even realizes it Grace is by the door with her coat on, ready to leave. He wants her to stay, needs her to stay, they have unfinished business.

"Now if you two need to reach me, you may call anytime after 10PM Eastern. Call Me at 877-518-3575. If I'm in the mood I may even pick up ::giggles:: Now I'm afraid it will cost $2/min but I know you two don't mind that, I know you want to talk to Me. I like My pets, er ... dicks, highly motivated, so until you find My panties ... no cummies! I'll send you the bill for the cleaning of my corset, Tracer."

And then just like that she was gone, leaving a scent of cotton candy still hanging in the room.

"Well that went swimmingly Friday! We're not getting paid, we can't cum until we find those damned panties and anytime we need to talk to our client it will cost us two bucks a minute! You certainly made an patsy of yourself there, Miss 'likes it rough' Friday!"

"Tracer, it's really hard to take a guy seriously when his wing-wang is hanging out the front of his pants."

As Tracer zips up, Friday heads for the phone with a look on her mug like some girl who’s prom date is two hours late picking her up. "I better make sure she got home ok ..."

"Friday, for shits sake, she just left!"