The Mystery of the Sordid Stethoscope

The blue eye peered through the magnifying glass. Hunched over on the ground, its owner focused on the delicate garment on the floor. His gaze took in the white lace material, pink bows on each side, and wisps of hair stuck to the damp fabric. Evaluating the thin strand of hair, he deduced several elements in his investigation.

"I have concluded that the owner of our piece of evidence is with a degree of high probability a blonde. Judging by the style, a young woman either in her teens or early twenties," Sean Tarver declared. "Inspector Gibble proved correct in calling us to the hospital. There is a significant level of moisture mixed with this undergarment, most certainly vaginal secretions from a highly aroused woman. That matches the previous victims of our brainwasher, The Lustmaker. Would you care to perform your evaluation, Mr. Denton?"

A long moment of silence answered back the detective's question. Then, with an annoyed huff, he moved back into a sitting position, turning his attention to the other teenager in the hospital lobby. Considered the geek sidekick in private detective circles, Newt Denton lived up to his reputation as he calculated a theory on his abacus.

"Mr. Denton, would you like to perform your evaluation?"

The single finger held up to inform Sean to wait did not sit well with the greatest detective in Honey Hollow. His quarry for the past several weeks had left a clue to the latest victim, and time could not be wasted by his friend and assistant's 'games.'

"Denton, we do not have time for that. The game is afoot," Sean declared, throwing his hand up in irritation when he saw Newt now studying his astronomical clock. "I shall not waste any time. You may catch up when you are ready."

Walking briskly over to the bank of elevators, Sean paused. Taking a step back, he studied the lever on the door to the stairs. A slight sheen glimmered in the light. A quick smell test confirmed the liquid as vaginal secretions. Pulling out his handkerchief, he prepared to push down the lever, but a bark stopped him.

Turning around, he saw his other assistant approach, carrying his deerstalker cap. Dropping it on the tiled floor, he looked up at Sean.

"Woof!"

"Ah, yes, thank you, Watson. I almost forgot that," the detective said, picking up the cap and placing it on his head. A growl followed from the brown, white, and a touch of black beagle. "No, I shan't need my pipe. There is no use as I do not smoke. Will you care to join me?"

The excited whine told Sean yes, so he opened the door to the stairway, allowing Watson to dash inside. Joining him, the teen detective began to examine the stairwell for any signs of which direction he should go.

"Woof!"

"Downstairs? Are you sure? Okay, okay, no need to be rude," Sean replied to the growl. "Do you know where Inspector Gibble went? Yes, I know that's Denton's job, but you know him. Now, Watson, there's no need for that harsh language."

Based on Watson's history of accuracy, the blond-haired teenager opened the door that led to the hospital's surgical wing. Immediately, he knew his canine sidekick chose correctly. The smells and sounds of sex filled his nostrils and ears.

"Alright, you take the left side, I'll take the right, and we'll work our way to the center hallway. Sound good? Good," Sean said when his hound agreed with the plan. "Oh, and Watson, if Mr. Denton joins us, please be nice."

The beagle's so-so reply didn't bode well for Newt.

"Okay, Lustmaker, time to witness your handiwork."

---

Sean Tarver, riddle solver extraordinaire, staggered into the gurney on the way back toward the elevators. Leaning against the rolling bed, he sought to re-gather his train of thought. The Lustmaker is here, and they mean business! That much was certain after the scenes of sexual debauchery Sean witnessed. Images from moments ago swirled in his mind.

Inside the storage closet, he witnessed the chocolate delight of his mother's friend, Dr. Cheryl Fort, stretched out naked as her hands gripped the sides of a metal shelf she stood before. Ass thrust out, the black tigress's heavy, caramel-colored treats, topped with Hershey Kisses, swung back and forth wildly. Standing behind her, pants at his ankles, an oaf of a security guard pounded the beautiful doctor without mercy. It didn't take being Honey Hollow's greatest detective to figure out his name to be Biff and that he had a huge cock. Dr. Fort provided those details as she shrieked them over and over.

The next door down found a special sort of dinner taking place in the doctors' lounge. A second doctor with dark skin and hair was spread eagle on the round table, her head raised. She watched through the valley of her large breasts as a young Asian-American feasted on her folds. Based on the verbal lessons issued to Aimee Seung, the mousy office worker must have been a pussy eating novice until a few minutes ago. Two ER nurses, Bonnie and Lulu, stood next to the table, offering advice to the newly inducted carpet muncher, with an occasional dip down to provide a naked breast to the dark-haired woman's lips. The mouse seemingly found its cheese when a keening sound rocked the room, swinging the doctor's head back until it lay upside down off the table. Glazed brown eyes met Sean's blues; her unfocused eyes only saw a blur in the room's doorway, allowing Sean to slowly back out into the hallway. Shutting the door, he glanced down at the growing tent in his pants. Perhaps Denton staying upstairs proved a wise decision. Seeing his mother in that state may have interrupted the investigation. Personal feelings should never compromise the serving of justice.

The interns' locker room would immediately test that philosophy. The vision of his first crush riding the mouth of an unknown person, her big tits bouncing madly, cries of pleasure ringing around the room, nearly tempted the teen detective. Lana Stratton struggled to hold her position over the mouth, performing sexual sorcery inside her chamber of secrets. A beguiling body underneath her rocked as Finley Singer swept his broomstick inside the witch and out. Something about the witch's perfect tits and toned figure called out to Sean in a way that also felt evil. The blasting bolt from Finley's wand inside the mystery woman's monster box finally dislodged Lana. Deep down, the teen sleuth had pieced together the evidence of the identity of the third person. Yet, his brain refused to finish the final deduction. With her face no longer hidden, Sean felt waves of emotions flood his soul, some good and some horrifying. Scrambling away, he slammed the physical door blocking the forbidden sight while struggling to clasp the mental door from any taboo thoughts.

With the gurney as support, Sean breathed deeply, desperately performing mind-clearing techniques. Eyelids clenched shut; he sought to erase the memory of the perfect, perky tits swaying up and down on the toned body. Hands cupping his ears, he worked to block out the raspy moans that echoed in his mind. The teen gumshoe ignored his rock-hard cock pressing into the side of the rolling bed.

Focusing on past investigations, Sean replayed the crimes and the culprits. The Case of the Missing Quarters: a series of arcade robberies committed by a crew of third graders. They unscrewed the back panels of the arcade games, hiding inside and robbing the machines after closing. The Poodle of Jewelry Row: a diamond thief using a trained poodle to enter wealthy homes to retrieve valuables. Watson shined as the star, in that case, tackling the thieving dog. The Ghastly Totem Affair: a scam involving an allegedly cursed gargoyle-looking totem. Roderick Taft had proven a tough nut to crack. He sought not monetary gain but a string of unique favors designed to exhibit his domination over others.

Successful in banishing the taboo thoughts from his brain, Sean opened his eyelids and stared in shock. The T-shaped intersection was no more, replaced by an L-shaped version. Where once lay a hallway, the route Watson took, now stood a taupe-colored hospital wall.

Having no other choice, Sean turned the corner and headed down the formerly central hallway. A strong sense told him that he would finally come face-to-face with his quarry in one of the small number of rooms. His ears caught wind of a string of filth escaping from an on-call room to his left.

Gingerly, he pushed the down openly slowly. Sean's eyes shot open. Never in the course of his numerous investigations had he come across a scene such as this one. A naked Harvey Diamond lay on the bed. His arms and legs were tied to the bed frame, seemingly by shackles made from multiple latex gloves. A wad of cotton balls filled his mouth.

A woman with long, blonde hair straddled Harvey's waist. From what Sean could tell, she had large breasts and a curvy ass. Oh, and she also wore a black leather dominatrix outfit along with a matching domino mask. The woman seemed uncomfortably familiar to the teenage sleuth. So when she turned to see the intruder, and he saw her icy-blue eyes, Sean blurted out the person he feared her to be.

"Mother?!"

A hearty laugh and shake of a head threw off the detective for a moment. Then he noticed her face appeared a little more tired than his mother's, her breasts a little larger, and she weighed a few pounds more.

"Aunt Beverly?"

"Don't look so surprised, Sean. You must have wondered when you heard that I dated Harvey," his mother's sister speculated, a twinkle in her eye. "How does a sex beast like Harvey get shook up when he hears my name more than two decades later? Well, your uptight, by-the-book aunt has one hell of a kinky side."

"What are you doing to Whitney's dad? Do you need help, Mr. Diamond?"

"Oh, don't mind, Harv. He enjoys it when special women in his life dominate him. Don't you, scum," Beverly didn't ask but stated, running the tassels of her whip across his face. "And I wouldn't worry, Sean, we have a safe word for Harv to use."

"Uh, but you have a gag in his mouth."

"Silly me, I do," Beverly responded with an evil wink. "Would you care to join us?"

"No! Uh, I have other things to do."

"So afraid of the darker side, so like your mother. Very well, then be gone!"

The crack of the whip against Harvey's skin sent the teenage crimebuster scurrying out of the on-call room. Shaking his head in disbelief at his prim and proper aunt's attitude, he wondered if the Lustmaker caused it or if she had been like that before.

Wait, something's different. Replaying the way the hallway looked before he went inside the on-call room, Sean scanned for the difference. There! A door that previously had been closed now stood open a crack. Stealthily tiptoeing over, he threw the door open, only to see no one. Instead, a flight of stairs led up. Climbing them, the son of two doctors realized he was in a viewing gallery that overlooked Operating Room 2, or OR2.

"By Hercule's mustache!"

There on the operating table, his father, Leonard, sat half up. Naked, the older version of Sean had his erect dick in-between two mounds of flesh. Working back and forth, the big-breasted girl sawed his father's cock inside the deep valley she formed by pushing her overflowing tits together. Pausing, she let out a long string of saliva from her mouth, allowing it to coat Leonard Tarver's throbbing member. Seeing movement from the corner of her eye, the big titted slut lifted her head to gaze at the voyeur.

"Inspector Gibble? Joanne! No, Joanne, stop!" Sean commanded, pounding the viewing glass with his fists. His stomach dropped as his lifelong friend tilted her head, staring at him curiously with vacant eyes. The Lustmaker had struck again, turning another wholesome woman into a fucktoy.

With a sob, the dejected detective descended the stairs.

"Justice will be served," Sean vowed.

"Why serve it when you can forget about it with fucking?" a tittering voice queried.

"Embrace the art of fuckery, Sean. Let it wash away your troubles," a second smokier voice dangled the offer.

Back in the hall, Honey Hollow's greatest detective found himself confronted with two of his mother's favorite nurses from the birthing wing of the hospital. Libby Dall, a cute bubbly blonde, and Eloa Agrela, a leggy model-like brunette, wore nurse uniforms. Not their regular nurse scrubs, but a style that harkened back to a previous generation. And also, the kind regularly purchased around Halloween under the label: Ultra-Slutty Nurse Costume.

Both nurses posed for their favorite doctor's son. Each had one hand on a hip with their other leg cocked enticingly. Facing Sean, Libby toyed with the extremely short zipper on her red and white one-piece uniform. With her back to him, Eloa gazed over her shoulder at the boy, using her hand to rub her remarkable rump.

"I see The Lustmaker has sent henchwomen to foil my efforts. Heed closely, nurses, Sean Tarver, enigma eradicator, shall not stop until your master is in handcuffs."

"Why so serious, Seanie?" Libby asked, flashing her red satin bra with a quick unzip and zip of her slutty uniform.

"Our mistress sent us not to harm you, but as gifts of goodwill," Eloa stated as she and her partner slithered to each side of Sean. "Don't you like your gifts?" she asked, slapping her ass with a sharp cracking sound.

"We're no longer nurses, Seanie, but playthings for your every fantasy," Libby revealed, reaching to unbuckle his belt.

"Every. Single. Dirty. Fantasy," Eloa huskily said, dropping to her knees in front of the teen.

"My, oh, my, Ellie, I think we got a toy gift out of this deal too," Libby cooed, wrapping her hand around Sean's cock.

"No, Libs, we have a new patient that needs tender loving care," Eloa purred, plunging her mouth onto the pulsating pole.

"Aargh! Is that your plan, wenches? To seduce me into being another sex **** for The Lustmaker? I think not!" Sean barked out, grabbing Eloa's head and lurching forward. While he facefucked the brunette, the teen detective plunged his fingers into the blonde's cunt. "Libby. Eloa. I am not some weakling; I am the greatest mystery solver that this city has ever known. You will never break me!"

Shoving Libby down to kneel next to Eloe, Sean proceeded to alternate his facefucking between the two wannabe seductresses. Occasionally, he would halt his violating of their mouths to push their heads together for a sultry kiss that greatly pleased him. Feeling his impending eruption, he pulled back and began jacking his cock. Rope after rope of cum streaked across the floor, splashing against the two moaning faces.

"Libby. Eloa. Lick my cum off each other's face," Sean ordered. Looming above them, he watched as their tongues lapped away his sticky ooze. As their faces cleared, a transformation occurred. Where once kneeled Libby and Eloa, now kneeled Lacey and Whitney.

"Lacey. Whitney. Rise. Rise and be free of The Lustmaker's influence. You now belong to me."

"Yes, Sean, we belong to you, our savior," the two girls said in unison.

"Now, tell me, where is your former mistress?"

They pointed to the main operating room, OR1. I should have known.

"Thank you, girls. Wait here until I come back."

Entering the operating room, Sean immediately gasped in shock.

"Mother! Why are you in chains?"

Before she could reply, a sharp pinch in his leg resulted in excruciating pain. Pain that caused him to blackout.

Waking, Sean found himself strapped to the operating table. Looking frantically, he found his mother on the side of the room, her arms above her head, chained to a device above, surgical tape across her mouth. Her son could tell she was naked, but her private parts--parts Sean told himself he didn't want to see--lay hidden in the shadows of the room. Glancing down, he saw a needle sticking out of his leg. That must be what caused the jolt of pain, knocking me out.

"Hello, Sean. You have proved a worthy foe," a familiar voice said from the shadows. A gorgeous woman emerged from the darkness. Her strawberry blonde hair, large breasts, and killer ass were all assets that Sean dreamed of many a night. He finally saw them all in their glory, for the woman was naked except for a shiny stethoscope hanging down to her cleavage.

"Summer? You're The Lustmaker?" The greatest detective that Honey Hollow ever witnessed couldn't believe it. Not Summer Mayfield, his father's protégé, and his mother's good friend. Not the woman his family took in when she arrived in town. The same woman whose genius made her socially awkward at times. But those piercing gray eyes staring into his soul told him the truth.

"Who else could it have been, Sean? No one in this hick town can match my intellect, my genius. For I am the greatest mind Honey Hollow has ever witnessed!" cackled the strawberry-haired mastermind as she reached the side of the operating table.

"But why, Summer? Why would you turn people into lust-crazed minions?" Sean asked, his eyes catching sight of movement in the viewing gallery over Summer's shoulder.

"Isn't it obvious, Sean? I longed to understand human nature. So why am I the one that people find unsociable? I'm the person they should flock to for knowledge," Summer continued, while a paw behind the viewing gallery glass waved at Sean.

"Okay, but how does that turn into all of this?" the teen detective asked. He glanced over her shoulder as Watson hurled himself against the glass divider.

"I'll admit that my initial goals were much more mundane. Yet, as I study the boring day-to-day lives of this town's citizens, I realized that I needed to save them from their insignificant existence."

"Am I insignificant too, Summer?" he asked while Watson tapped the glass with a nail.

"Not at all. You are the second most special person in Honey Hollow. The one I plan to make into my consort." With that revelation, Summer displayed uncanny agility by leaping onto the table and straddling Sean's chest. Inching closer, she presented her picture-perfect pussy for his enjoyment.

"Do you expect me to roll over and be another of your slaves?"

"No, I expect you to taste me and crave my love."

"I'll never lick your pussy, Summer," Sean vowed. As the strawberry-haired mad genius inched closer to his face, he had one last look at his trusty sidekick. Watson used his nail to make a repeated circle on the glass window. Sean's eyes urged his friend on, time slipping away for the glass cutting to finish.

"You don't need to lick me yet. All you need is taste," Summer stated, reaching down to flick droplet of her juices onto Sean's face. The droplets caused him to lose focus, drifting away from the operating room scene.

---

Bridget woke with a start. It took her several seconds to find her bearings. Waking up in a hospital was certainly nothing new to the physician. The difference this time came from Sean's moans. Worried that her son's injuries were causing him discomfort, the concerned mother fully woke up. Putting the chair's footrest down, she sat up in the chair next to Sean's hospital bed.

"Justice will be served." She heard her son mumble in his sleep. The words brought a smile to her face. So much like his grandfather and his mysteries. It's nice to see he can have a dream to take away--what the hell?!

"Wenches...sex ****...no weakling..." Sean mumbled in his sleep. "Libby. Eloa. Lick my cum.."

Slapping her hand to her mouth, Bridget scanned the room quickly. He's having a sex dream about Libby and Eloa? Oh my! Unconsciously, the mother glanced at her son's waist. Despite being covered by several thick, heavy blankets, Bridget could make out part of a tent from Sean's pleasant dream. Embarrassed, she looked at the door in paranoia, worried that a different nurse might arrive soon to perform a routine check on Sean or Whitney.

"Lacey. Whitney...belong to me."

Bridget's eyes shot over to Whitney, over on the other bed. Thank gawd, she's still sleeping.

"Mother! Why are you in chains?" Sean's words weren't a mumble this time, but at a normal level of speaking.

Absolutely embarrassed for her son and now herself, Bridget didn't want anyone to overhear her son's erotic dream. Without thinking, she kicked his hospital bed, hoping to snap him out of his dream. She immediately felt awful for her action as Sean moaned loudly in pain, his hand reaching for his injured leg.

"Way to go, Bridget," she mumbled to herself. Hurting your kid when he's doped up on painkillers is mother-of-the-year material. Bridget sarcastically thought, knowing that the painkillers Sean had been prescribed often resulted in strange dreams.

"Summer."

Reaching over to grab her glass of water, Bridget wasn't all that surprised to hear her son dreaming of Leonard's pretty protégé. She knew he had a small crush on Summer. Still, the words lustmaker raised her eyebrows once again.

Wanting to interrupt Sean's dream while not waking him up in a way that made it evident that she heard some of the lewd details, Bridget considered her options. Looking down at her water, she reached her hand inside the glass, wetting her fingers.

"...never lick your pussy..."

Flicking her fingers, Bridget flung droplets of water at her son's face. It took four rounds of water, but Sean eventually rolled over, quietly resuming his sleep in a more peaceful manner.

---

"No...stop..stop!"

Bridget woke again with a start. Not again, Sean.

"Please, stop...come back."

That's not Sean!

Sitting up, Bridget looked over in the dark room. With only a sliver of light from the nurses' station, Bridget could barely make out Harvey thrashing around in his chair. Getting to her feet, she rushed over as quietly as she could, mindful of waking the two resting teens.

"Stop...Whitney...don't...please!"

The poor thing. He's having a nightmare about Whitney's drowning.

Gently, Bridget shook Harvey's shoulder.

"Harvey, wake up. Harvey, you're having a nightmare. Wake up," she whispered, close to the side of his head.

"Wha--"

"It's okay, Harvey. You had a nightmare."

"I did?" he asked, confused for a moment. "Yeah, I was, I guess. That damn dream again. Sorry to wake you."

"It's fine. I can understand why you would have a nightmare about Whitney. It's been a trying day."

"It wasn't about Whitney. I've been having the same damn dream for a couple of months now. I dream I'm chasing after someone leaving in a car, at a train station, or at an airport. I can never catch them, and I can never see their faces. The damn thing has gotten worse over the last week. Every single night I have it now."

"But you were saying Whitney's name, Harvey. You were pleading with her to stop and come back," she revealed after listening to his lengthy explanation.

"I was? But it doesn't make sense. Why would I have recurring nightmares like that about Whitney?"

"Oh, Harv, isn't it obvious? I bet these dreams started right around the time that Whitney started applying to colleges," Bridget declared, flashing him a knowing look.

"Uh, maybe," Harvey responding, going over the timeline in his head. "That might be around the time they started. Why would you guess that?"

"Because I went through this three years ago slightly, and a whole lot more these last couple of months too," Bridget said, grinning. "Harv, you're suffering from a form of separation anxiety that many parents go through starting around now. Your little girl is about to leave the nest, leaving you behind."

"My dreams are about Whitney going to college? No, I doubt that, Bee. I'm excited for her to go off and experience college."

"So was I when Peyton started to look at schools, and a part of me wanted to cry. It's even worse now with Sean. I'm losing a second kid and my baby at that," Bridget remarked. "I can imagine for you that it's heightened even further. Whitney's your only child, and after the divorce, she's all you have left at home."

"I don't know...maybe," Harvey half-admitted. Then, noticing Bridget wince in pain, he quickly apologized again for waking her.

"Not the first time tonight. Sean had some...dreams that woke me," she replied, bending her body. "I think I need to go stretch my legs. These chairs aren't very comfortable."

"Let me hit the bathroom, and I'll join you. I want to hear more about this theory of yours," Harvey said, heading to the attached bathroom.

"Alright, I'll meet you out by the nurses' station."

With dawn approaching, Bridget went to check what the third-shift nurses were doing. Nearing the station, she saw Haylie sitting down, looking intently at her phone. Two other nurses, including Barb the Bitch, stood at each of her sides, peering over her shoulder at the phone. The one on the left glanced up with a start. Seeing Bridget approaching, she hurriedly tapped the phone owner.

"Oh, Dr. Tarver, I'm so sorry," the phone owner said, staring at Bridget in a combination of horror and sympathy.

"What's wrong, Haylie?" Bridget asked. She wondered why the one nurse she didn't know backed away from the station, looking as if she wanted to escape, while Barb shook her head disapprovingly at Bridget.

"I really am sorry, Dr. Tarver," Haylie repeated, offering her phone to her.