Jasmine learns about Diana

It’s been a week where I’ve been pretty satisfied with my own progress while being dismayed at the antics of our government. First, the relaxation of the planning laws to allow developers a free hand on brown field sites so that there will be no check on the quality of homes that are built. Secondly, also with planning, the removal of the carbon neutral objective for future housebuilding, again meaning that new houses will not have to be built to the high standards necessary for sustainability. Finally, although it won’t be the end of this government’s madness, the attacks on the BBC. Why do these idiots in government want to destroy an organisation that, somewhat bloated and pompous it may be, produces amazing programmes without the interference of advertising. I wonder how much the people who complain about the licence fee pay to Sky or Virgin or whoever?

Which looks best - with wig or

Which looks best – with wig or

or without

or without

So with my rant out of the way – to my writing.  Progress is being made in preparing Bodies By Design: The Second Jasmine Frame Novel for publication – more on that soon. I’ve also made progress with writing the third novel, which now has the title The Brides’ Club Murder; and finally, here is the next episode of the Jasmine Frame prequel, Split Mirror. Warning – it contains some sex.

 

 

 

 

Split Mirror: Part 4

Jasmine was shocked by Debbie’s coarse language. It seemed out of character. But there was defiance in her eyes as if daring Jasmine to question her use of the words.
‘You mean she wanted sex with a man,’ Jasmine said in her police voice.
Debbie’s nostrils flared and her cheeks turned red. ‘Yes, she wanted to make use of that nice new cunt of hers.
‘This started after her gender reassignment surgery,’ Jasmine said. It was a statement not a question. It was obvious really. That was when Diana became a woman able to have penetrative sex.
Debbie slumped as if maintaining the anger took too much energy. ‘We hadn’t talked about sex much. We did it, well, that is until her transition started making changes. You know.’ Jasmine nodded. ‘We talked about her operations, over and over, especially when it seemed they were never going to happen, but I hadn’t thought about what would happen to us when she had the sex change. Then she had to use those things, what were they? Dilators, that was it, every day. She wouldn’t let me see her, though.’
‘I understand,’ Jasmine said. ‘She had to keep her vagina open.’ Jasmine knew all that was involved as she waited for her turn to come, later rather than sooner so it seemed. Her testicles and the flesh of her penis would be removed, and the skin of the penis and scrotum inverted to form a vagina inside her abdomen and create the exterior features, the labia, with the glans forming her clitoris. She wasn’t looking forward at all to the procedure but it was the only way to become the woman she believed herself to be. Diana obviously felt the same. After the surgery the channel had to be kept open and stretched daily otherwise it would close up and heal.
‘So it was when she was recovering from the surgery and stretching her vagina that she said that she wanted sex with a man,’ Jasmine summarised.
Debbie nodded. ‘She didn’t talk about it but she did mention once that “now she had the apparatus, it needed to be tested out.” I think those were her words.’
Jasmine recalled that Donald had been an electrician for whom testing an appliance was normal practice. ‘And you think she’s been doing that?’ Jasmine thought it best not to mention that Diana may have been seeing more than one man.
Debbie nodded. ‘I think she’s been seeing someone – a man.’ She took a breath as if making a decision about what to say. ‘Of course someone who wanted sex would find her attractive with her pert breasts and smooth stomach. She was better looking than me.’ She shrugged, ’Diana has worked hard to make herself look attractive and perhaps a man wouldn’t notice her more masculine features.’
Jasmine knew what Debbie meant. ‘You mean her narrow hips and broad shoulders?’
‘That’s right.’
‘But you never talked about her, um, needs?’
‘No. I hope she might bring it up but we’ve talked less and less in recent months. I’m at work most days, not full time, though, while she has been working nights, stacking shelves at the supermarket.’
‘Where?’
‘The big one at the M4 junction.’
‘I know.’ The layby that Diana’s car had been had been seen in was nearby.
‘So you don’t know anything about this person that Diana was meeting?’
‘No, not a thing.’
Jasmine decided not to say anything about her suspicions or the discovery of the car until there was more evidence of Diana’s movements and actions.
‘Well, thank you for telling me this. I’ll pass on the information confidentially.’
A tear trickled down Debbie’s cheek and she sniffed. ‘You do think she’s alright, don’t you? You don’t think she’s left? I know we haven’t been close recently but well, I can’t imagine life without Diana.’
Jasmine wanted to reassure the woman but found she couldn’t tell lies. ‘I’ll make sure we investigate to try and establish her location.’ She knew it sounded formal but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She put her mug down on the worktop. ‘I’d better be going. I’ll keep in touch,’ she added, heading from the kitchen towards the front door.

4

Jasmine sat in the car. It was dark and cold. As she started up and drove slowly out of the housing estate she was thinking of the heap of unopened boxes and carrier bags sitting in her flat. She should be heading home to start unpacking.
She came to the main road. It didn’t surprise her when instead of turning right towards her flat the steering wheel in her hand turned anticlockwise and headed further out of town. She couldn’t go home until she had investigated where Diana had apparently disappeared.

This close to the motorway and the big town there was still plenty of traffic at this time of the evening but as Jasmine turned onto the rough gravel surface of the layby she seemed to enter a different world. There were five big articulated trucks, three with foreign number plates, parked in parallel. There were no lights visible in any of the cabs but the trucks acted like the walls of a castle, defending the space that lay beyond them and stopping casual visitors from entering. She drove passed them. The parking area stretched another fifty yards away from the road and was bounded by shrubs and small trees.
Diana’s Micra was parked not far from the trucks. Jasmine stopped alongside it and got out, pulling her duffle coat around her. She walked around the small white car. There was no one in it and the windows were intact. Jasmine pulled a latex glove from her pocket and pulled it onto her right hand. She tugged at the door handles. The doors were locked. She bent to look inside. It was dark and she couldn’t see much but there didn’t seem to be anything to see – no bags or clothing or papers left on seats or in the footwells as far as she could tell. She stretched up and looked around. At the far end of the parking area there was a group of cars arranged in a circle like covered wagons in a Western. A couple had headlights on and others showed the dim illumination of interior lights. Shadowy figures stood near the vehicles or moved slowly between them.
She walked towards the circle of cars. One caught her eye. It was a big Volvo estate with its rear hatch open. Lights from the car parked behind it shone into it and its interior lights glowed. As Jasmine approached the side of the Volvo she made out a pair of feet and legs raised and waving and between them a hairy pair of buttocks rising and falling. Two-tone grunts came for inside although Jasmine realised that the higher pitched, female voice was actually saying ‘Yes! Yes!’ repeatedly.
A complete view through the side windows of the estate car was obscured by the men lined up on both sides of the car, staring in and urging the lovers on. Jasmine hung back but moved to the space between the Volvo and the car behind it. Now she had a view into the car. Despite the cold which made her hug her duffle coat around her the man and woman fucking in the back of the estate were naked. The light from the headlights flickered from the man’s balls as they wobbled between his legs.
‘Hey, luv. Enjoying the action?’
Jasmine spun around. She had been mesmerised by the sight of the two doggers entertaining the watchers and had not seen the little man in the dark coat creep up on her.
‘Um, what? Yes. No!’ She felt as though she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t, embarrassed that she found the sight of two people having sex in public gripping.
‘Want some yourself?’ The little man’s hand crept out to tug at the edge of her coat. She batted his hand away. In the harsh light of the headlights she saw disappointment on his face turn to irritation.
‘No. I’m looking for someone,’ she said, hoping to take his mind off her rejection.
‘Oh, yeah. You going to give us a show luv.’ His look of eager anticipation had returned.
‘No. I’m not. Do you know who owns that Nissan Micra parked over by the trucks?’ She pointed in the direction of Diana’s car which was invisible in the dark beyond the circle of doggers’ cars.
‘Why? You’re not a cop are you?’ He said it with incredulity as if the thought of a lone female police officer venturing onto a public sex site was impossible.
‘No, I’m not,’ Jasmine thought denial was a better bet than the truth and she had a belated thought about her own safety. ‘It belongs to a friend of mine.’
She saw a smile crinkle his stubbled cheeks. ‘The fucker with the lovely firm tits and the tight cunt. . .’
‘You’ve . . .’ Jasmine didn’t know what words to use. “Made love to her” did not describe the acts of sex going on the cars and she couldn’t bring herself to say “fucked her” to someone she didn’t know.
‘Yeah, along with half the guys here.’ The smile had turned leery and he nodded at the circle of men around the Volvo.
…………………………

Painted Ladies front cover jpegPainted Ladies: A Jasmine Frame Story is available as an e-book in all formats (eg. Kindle at Amazon) and a paperback obtainable from all booksellers or by sending an email and paying £8.99 (inc post and packing) to Paypal at paintedladiesnovel@btinternet.com

 

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