The Interrogation a PWP

by Therese Szymanski


Trying to avoid going to jail for a murder she didn't commit, Brett Higgins grills Sara Bertram. The interrogation takes on a very heated nature when Sara becomes uncomfortable with how much she's revealing and how close Brett is getting to finding the real killer.

If you enjoy this story, please let me know. You can write to me at: You can also find out more about me and what I write on my website .



Sara, a tall, flashy blonde with Barbra Streisand's nose, walked up to Brett Higgins, who was standing in her living room. “I wonder if you're as good in bed as you are at this sorta shit.”

“Are you gonna tell me what I want to know, or am I gonna have to find it all myself? And wouldn't that make life even messier for you?” Brett Higgins was tall, dark and handsome—just the way Sara Bertram liked her butches.

Sara put her hands under Brett's jacket, around her waist, and whispered in her ear. “How the hell do you think a dipshit like my husband could keep the agency afloat? He was laundering money for his uncle Jack.” Her breath was hot in Brett's ear, against her neck. Brett could almost feel her lips. Her hands trailed down over Brett's tight ass. “Now, do you want to tell me how somebody like you knows so much about a place like the Paradise Theatre?”

Brett quickly turned Sara around, holding Sara's wrists over Sara's head, against the wall. Her thigh pressed into Sara's crotch. “I just know a lot about a lot.”

Sara pressed herself against Brett's leg and moaned. “I heard a woman used to work down there...”

“It's an adult theater, lots of women work there...” Brett grabbed both Sara's wrists with one hand, and ran the other over Sara's body, down to cup her breast, over her waist, tracing the line of her thigh.

“And this dyke was hot to trot, but I ain't heard about her for awhile...” Sara was panting now.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Brett said with an evil grin as she released Sara and walked away.

“And you don't know what Jack was up to that got Chuck offed.”

“Are you saying you do?” Brett was like a stalking animal, pacing while keeping her gaze tightly glued to Sara.

“No—sometimes the less you know, the better off you are.” Sara was settling her most scorching looks at Brett. “But I do know that whatever it was, Chuck knew what it was. And what got him killed was that knowledge, plus whatever it was he picked up when he was meeting with Jack and Robert.” She slowly approached Brett, unbuttoning the top buttons on her blouse and running her tongue over her lips.

“Whatever it was that proved whatever was up?” Brett said with a wry smile.


Brett suddenly turned, grabbed Sara and threw her against the wall. “Are you gonna tell me who's got the stuff, or do I have to kill you?”

“If you killed me, you'd never find out.”

“You'd be surprised,” Brett said, still holding Sara against the wall. The woman wanted it rough. She wanted to know who was in charge—each deep, meaningful glance with her eyes told Brett that.

“Then how about this one—kill me and you'll never get me in bed.”

Brett dropped Sara and turned away, darkness in her eye.

“And you want to do that, don't you, Brett? You want to get me into bed so you can fuck me.”

“If you're trying to piss me off, then keep at it cause you're doing a fine job...”

“Oooo, is that a threat from the big bad ass?” Sara said, running her hand down Brett's back as she crossed behind her.

Brett darted and grabbed Sara by the wrists. “You like it rough, huh sweetie?” she hissed into her face. “Is that why you've been all over me? ‘Cause you knew I could really fuck you like you want?”

Sara twisted out of Brett's grasp and dodged behind an armchair. “Are you saying that you'll leave if I tell you what you want to know?”

Brett nodded. “Yeah, that's what I'm saying. Believe it or not, I've got a girlfriend at home and she's twice the lay you could ever be.”

Sara smirked. “As if you could ever be a one-woman woman.” She walked up behind Brett and ran her hands down Brett's arms, feeling the muscles. “As if you'd ever be satisfied with that,” she whispered into her ear, letting her breath caress the lobe. She reached around Brett and peeled off her jacket, tossing it carelessly to the side. “You may say that, you may even try to live the straight and narrow with your little nine-to-five job, but we both know the truth.”

“And just what truth is that?” Brett asked as she whipped about to grab Sara, again holding both Sara's hands behind her back with her left hand. Sara struggled, but Brett easily overpowered her, forcing her back against the wall.

“You're wild, and you like it like that. You don't want to be tamed and you sure as hell don't want to play by somebody else's rules.”

Sara's brown eyes reflected Brett's own and Brett was surprised by the green she saw there.

Sara laughed at the sudden swipe of amazement that crossed Brett's face. “You've finally figured out what we're doing, huh? What we've been doing since you got here. Since the first time we met.”

Brett noticed she was breathing hard and Sara was as well. A light sweat was beginning to break out over her brow. She was suddenly aware of every inch of her body and its proximity to Sara's, and how her arm, which still held Sara's hands, was wrapped around that lovely body.

“Foreplay, Brett. I'm wet—aren't you?”

“I suppose telling you the cops are outside watching me would just excite you all the more?”

Sara didn't need to say a word. Brett tossed her over her shoulder and carried her upstairs, to the bedroom, where she tossed her carelessly onto the bed.

Sara leaned on her elbows, watching as Brett yanked off her tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt. She reached down, pulled the Beretta off her ankle and put that down as well.

Brett glanced at the window and grinned. She walked over to it, glancing about the back yard until she spotted the concealed figure, then opened it.

“We're gonna fuck now, so you can come back in an hour, or you can listen and dream—it's your call.” She turned back to find Sara grinning at her from the bed. “Aren't you naked yet?” She took her tie and roughly secured Sara's hands to the bedpost. Sara struggled as Brett ripped open her shirt and yanked her bra to the side.

“Oh, god, Brett,” Sara moaned as Brett ripped her skirt, nylons and panties and threw them to the side.

“You said you wanted to be fucked.”

Brett's mouth found Sara's, her tongue forcing its way in as her thumbs squeezed Sara's already swollen nipples. When her teeth went down to the nipples, with Sara struggling against the tie, Brett kicked her legs open further still, holding them spread with her own legs while her hand dipped into the slickness of Sara's cunt.

Sara wasn't kidding when she said she was wet, she was dripping. Brett groaned her appreciation.

“You like the way I feel? Or you like knowing you did it to me? Huh, Brett? You like that sort of power and control?” Sara egged Brett on.

Brett brought her hand up roughly against Sara's tender flesh, Sara's hips following the motion of the hand, suddenly, Brett shoved four fingers inside Sara. “You want me to use you?” she began wildly fucking Sara, forcing her fingers roughly in and out of her, her thumb pressing against Sara's swollen clit, teasing it back and forth. “Why don't we see just how much power I got over ya, huh babe?”

Brett's mouth was again on hers, rough and harsh, her tongue thrusting. Brett nibbled down her neck, her own legs ensuring that Sara's remained spread, all the while her hand was still working on Sara's wet cunt, letting her fingers slide in and out while she teased the swollen clit back and forth with her thumb. Sara writhed as much as the restraints and Brett's body would let her, making Brett feel as if she were riding a bucking bronco.

“Do you wanna come? Huh, baby?” Brett asked, trailing her tongue down from Sara's breasts, across her belly, and then, slowly, down... “I'm gonna taste you...” ...down into Sara, across the flesh with the wet heat of her tongue, tasting...

“Brett...” Sara moaned as Brett's tongue worked itself against Sara's engorged flesh.

Brett looked up from her pussy. “What, no please?” Deliberately toying with Sara, making her beg.

“Please, Brett...”

“Oh, c'mon, you got to make it louder—I want Ski to be able to hear what I'm doing to you.” She trailed her tongue back down to Sara, then pulled her fingers out of her, using them to squeeze Sara's clit, running them up and down through the slickness, until she brought her hand back down between Sara's spread thighs, where she curled the fingers and thumbs together, and slowly slid her fist up into Sara.

“Oh my fucking God!” Sara screamed, trying to pull up higher onto the bed, but Brett wouldn't let her escape. Her fist was engulfed by Sara's warmth, muscles spasming around it while her tongue continued to lap up the juices. She clenched and unclenched her fist slowly, turning it around inside the squirming Sara.

Sara screamed even louder when she came, then she lay limp on the bed, quite obviously exhausted as Brett ran her tongue up and down her a few more times, then gently extracted her fist. She released Sara from her binds, then pulled a cigarette from her jacket, lighting it with her Zippo.

“Damn, I needed that,” Brett said, blowing out a puff of smoke.



Return to the Academy