Zava was now in seventh heaven, as she felt her tiny lover slide from her lips to collapse on the bed. She noted, delighted, that he quickly rolled on the mattress to lay limply against her cheek, extending a little hand to rub her downy cheek lovingly.
"It is quite a pity that those tiny female friends of yours never tried anything on you, Mark". (not that I can complain, I do NOT want to share you with ANY female of ANY size! ) She sighed, mischievously. "It was a waste of a very, very nice, male body"
"Hmmfff" was all Mark could muster....
"In days like this " never had them THIS good "I feel like lazing out all day in bed, but..." she hesitated... "what would you say to a nice, " she avoided the word 'little' "warm bath, with me"
"Sounds great!" he chirped from under her cheek."I did not want to say anything, but I feel a little stiff all over... like I was wearing some kind of skinsuit of dried girl goo". He winced. "It's starting to pull rather uncomfortably at my hair... and other parts, when I move".
"Girl goo??", she giggled, a bit embarrassed... after realizing what he meant "Oh my Gods, sorry!"
"I can feel, If I'm to walk, I'll have to first pull a rather large flake of it that it is caked to my balls and lemme tell you, I'd rather SOMEONE wash it away with warm water instead", Zava, reddening, could picture his devilish grin. Mark could actually feel her face getting warmer.
"Don't worry, I know someone who would just LOVE to..." started Zava...
...before both she and Mark, stiffening, heard booming knocks on the door and a loud, deep male voice calling:
"THIS IS THE POLICE - OPEN THE DOOR OR WE'LL HAVE TO KICK IT DOWN! YOU HAVE THIRTY SECONDS"
What the flying f…. Oh no, NONONONO!
Soon, the menacing call repeated itself… “… 25 SECONDS!” Zava sprung from the bed, quickly picking and holding Mark defensively against her bosom, looking around wildly for a way out… could we jump out of the balcony? But just as quickly, she dispelled these fantasies… the Patrollers were known for being trigger happy and there was little opportunity or time for a totally unprepared woman running in the buff, no less on plain daylight to escape a concerted police effort. Besides, surely, they had to have that route covered already. Calming herself, she decided that she would gamble on the oh, so unwanted!! police meddling having NOTHING to do with her Mark… she would have to do some REAL GOOD acting to avoid raising unnecessary suspicions.
“I’m coming, I’m coming! Just let me be decent and I’ll be out!” Managed to scream at the top of her lungs, in what was a surprisingly angry, rather that scared shitless voice. She could feel as Mark, against her skin, flinched at what was, for him, no doubt an earsplitting roar. Rest easy, love, they’ll have to pry you from my cold dead hands…. Gods, I hope it does not get to that, though…
“Stay very, very still Mark, I’m going to handle this” she whispered to Mark, who was looking up at her from her chest, wide-eyed… so vulnerable! “Don’t move, and don’t speak, whatever, whatever happens!”, she ordered, grimly. “No way in seven-hells I’ll leave you to them”.
She then darted to the bathroom to get the bathrobe she wore and had discarded before. Quickly putting Mark feet-first to his chest in her mouth, as she needed both hands, she hastily donned the robe. She cursed as she could not, at first, find the cloth belt and finally found it rolled up in the only pocket the robe had, on her right side, a little below her waist. Just my luck, I bought these with only this little, too-shallow pocke,t thinking – who needs pockets in a bathrobe? I hope he fits in there!!!
She then plucked the bewildered and surely by now dizzy Mark and shoved it, gently, she hoped, in the flimsy pocket. Surely enough, the bulge was quite visible. Not wasting any time in trying to find slippers, she shot to the door and, checking her scarce attire to see nothing indecent was popping up, despairing on the state of her hair, she breathed deeply and opened the door slowly.
What was likely he biggest man she had ever seen, a patroller, was standing outside her doorstep. He had to be at least seven feet tall, almost three wide, of very dark skin and built like a brickhouse. She finished opening the door, stepped a little outside and faced him. Each of his arms is almost as thick as I am, she noted, fearfully. His hands were also as /wide as shovels. Muscles bulged out of his arms like fat rabbits under a very thin rug.
However, his face was not the expected mask of rage she feared she would have to tackle. Instead, she saw a not unkind look of patent concern. Concern for me…? She noted, however, that after a discreet appraising look at her hands, looking for weapons? noticing she was VERY scantily clad, he politely avoided staring at her body and looked her in the eye
“How may I help you, Patroller?” Said Zava in a nonchalant tone that surprised even herself, with one hand holding her robe closed on her chest, the other casually on top of the pocket where Mark was, as a show of keeping her hem closed as well and keeping her hands well in sight of the policeman. She could feel Mark’s little heart fluttering against her hip, flattened against her curves inside the very uncomfortable, very shallow and very small pocket, even for his tiny frame.
“Good morning, Ma’am.” Said the Patroller, with a very deep, rumbling baritone, while flashing an almost sheepish smile, and very white teeth. “I am Ensign Brand of the city’s PatrolForce. Sorry to bother you. We have been notified of a… disturbance”.
“A d-disturbance” Stuttered Zava. Calm down, dammit! “What do you mean? I was sleeping… did anything happen?” She looked around, not having to entirely feign concern and surprise.
Zava had been so focused on the Patroller that it was only then that, for the first time, Zava noticed that behind the hulk of a man, a much smaller woman, smaller and thinner than Zava, was standing behind him, peeking curiously at her. It was Ms. Tangarife, the governess of the boarding house Zava lived in.
“Hi, Ms. Tangarife”. Said Zava. The woman, with a slight frown, waved at Zava weakly, but, uncharacteristically, did not say a word. What the hell is going on?!? Did she see Mark wandering here? Or did she… shit, I think now I know what this mess is all about… I hope! Zava thought she heard steps behind the officer. More people coming?
“Young lady, I’m afraid the governess and other occupants of the house have complained of strange and loud noises that seem to come from your apartment”.
“As you know, young lady” now chimed in Ms. Tangarife, “it is against the rules of the house to have Men” Zava noted how, as always when referring to the other gender, Ms. Tangarife emphasized this word as if she was talking of a boogeyman or a mythical, much to be feared and avoided, wild beast. “… inside the rooms”. Zava felt as if she could implode with relief, as her and Mark’s plight were taking a much, much less despairing turn. I know where this is going now… holy fuck, and I was ready to jump out the window.
“There is no Man” Zava said, without being able to avoid the sarcastic, slightly mocking same emphasis on the word “or Men, for that matter, in this room”, Zava said, rolling her eyes. “And NEVER have been”.
“As per the rules” said the governess, now with a scowl, not happy at Zava’s tentative, and out-of-character flippancy, “I have the authority to go inside your room with the police and verify there are no infractions”.
“As per the rules” said Zava, in a flat, but respectful tone, “no Men can enter a lady’s room in the house, not even a Patroller, unless there is suspicion of battery, abduction, or weapons are suspected to be involved”, Added Zava, who had, fortunately, read the house’s charter and remembered clearly this Anti-Men tenet (among many others).
“That is why I asked for a male-female Patroller tandem” said Ms. Tangarife, triumphally. “We did not know if a burglar or an intruder was forcing you, so Patroller Brand is covering this door, while a female Patroller is under the balcony checking there are no invited or uninvited, but most certainly unwelcome prowlers trying to escape that way”. On cue, Patroller Brand, with an almost apologetic look at Zava, pressed the button of his chest radio and said:
“Lubin, any news from there?”
“No activity”, crackled back the radio, laconically, in a recognizable female tone.
“I’m coming to relieve you there. Once I’m there, please come up here to accompany the governess for a sweep of the apartment” . With a nod to each woman in turn, the Patroller left for the stairs.
This new “sweep” thing made Zava uneasy again… Fucking bad timing for this busybody bitch to come in here…. She avoided Ms. Tangarife’s eyes, as she knew she was not very good of hiding her annoyance. Zava was not TOO worried, though, as she had nothing in there against the rules, not even alcohol in her small fridge. A few minutes went by in an awkward silence, giving Zava some time to gather her wits.
Mark’s little bundle of things could well be overlooked or explained away easily, except if they picked up the backpack, but she hoped it would not be noticed… upon getting off the bed she had seen (and failed to pick up) her panties on the floor. That was mortifying if the governess and the police saw her messy room, but not a crime nor an offense that could get her expelled from the house. Mark surely saw those panties lying there… how embarrassing! I hope he does not think I’m a slacker. Zava made a moue of annoyance.
She must have flushed abruptly when she thought this, as she noticed Mr. Tangarife narrowing her eyes as she looked at her face. Zava self-consciously crossed her arms on her chest. Ms. Tangarife looked inquisitively Zava up and down, and, to Zava’s deep discomfort, the governess gaze settled on the little bulge on her only visible pocket.
Fortunately, at that precise moment Patroller Lubin’s rapping footsteps were heard on the stairs, and the governess turned her head mechanically to look at the incoming policewoman. Zava did not miss a beat and with the same adroitness that had surprised Mark on more than one occasion, almost with a sleight of hand move, snatched her minute boyfriend from the pocket with her left hand and put it behind her head, under her hair, hoping he got the clue and got hold of her hair there. She supposed he could stand on her nape and the lapel of her robe, gripping some strands of hair so he did not fall. She knew he could not hold in there for long, though… Poor Mark, I have been jostling him around like up and down in a rollercoaster. I hope he does not lose his breakfast up there, and I hope this mess ends FAST!
Ms. Tangarife did not seem to notice anything and Zava kept her hand in the back of her neck, making a show of aggravation, as she warily opened her fingers, feeling Mark’s hop off her hand, his little feet steppping firmly on the back of her neck, and the very, very gentle tug at some of her nape hairs. He even nuzzled his head in her locks and she could swear she felt a featherlike kiss on her scalp. The little scoundrel… her lips curved slightly upwards. The communicator in her ear was apparently on “mute”, as she had not heard any input whatsoever from it since Mark was plunged in her pocket.
As Zava returned her hand to her chest, crossing her arms anew, Lubin arrived. She was a squat, no-nonsense little woman, with blond hair and flat blue, watery eyes. She approached Zava with a hand on her waist, near her sidearm, Zava noticed.
“Ma’am”. Lubin said, terse.
“Patroller Lubin” said Zava, with a polite nod. Ms. Tangarife did not offer a nod, apparently having met the policewoman earlier.
“Procedure says I have to pat you down before we enter the premises. Step outside, please”
Zava knew nonetheless that resistance was futile. Under the law even male patrollers could search anyone, even women, at any time if there was a cooperating elder civilian witness around, which plainly Ms. Tangarife was. She complied, then, being glad at least of not being manhandled by the hulking Brand.
“Face the wall, please. Hands up now and palms facing me at all times; feet two feet apart” Zava complied again.
“Um… I’m not wearing ANYTHING under this robe… at all” she added, uneasy at turning her back with Mark on that side.
Unfazed, Lubin patted Zava down competently, even brushing at her breasts, feeling her collarbone, breastbone, around her belt and her sides, hips, and of course, the pocket, but perhaps realizing Zava had no pants on, did not try to touch her crotch. This was not the first time Zava had to submit to this kind of procedure, which was common in bars as the police raided them for minors, so she did not balk. It was over quickly, anyway.
“Clear”. She offered. “Step into the apartment before me, please”. Zava said Ms. Tangarife was disappointed nothing was found on Zava… yet. Zava led the way.
Taking out her billy club, the policewoman, followed by the governess, followed closely behind Zava. She stood sullenly aside with arms crossed, watching as the two women went around the small living room, perfunctorily opened the fridge and then the cupboards, finding nothing amiss, of course. Then they went into the bathroom, again finding nothing.
Then they moved into the bedroom, which was when Zava’s heart started beating faster… of course they saw the panties on the floor, eliciting a disapproving grunt and headshake from the governess, and the policewoman poked at the rumpled clothes from last night on the chair with her club. They even opened the nightstand drawer, but found nothing there of interest. The rest of the clutter on the nightstand seemed to mask the presence of Mark’s stuff and neither woman batted an eyelid at it.
The policewoman even went to the other side of the bed and looked under it, never turning her back on Zava. Then they opened the closet and even went into the balcony, sliding the mesh screen aside, to check if there were footprints on the railing. Again finding nothing. Keep looking, bitches, you’re not going to find MY very portable and very illegal Man anywhere except on me, and you already looked. Zava still felt the little feet of her lover on her skin, changing positions slightly to better steady himself, as she moved around the room.
With a tired huff, tapping the club on her thigh absentmindedly, the policewoman looked at the governess, who only shrugged. There was no sign of a lurking Man or cat (pets were forbidden, too), not even a goldfish, anywhere. All possible hiding places were checked.
“What were you doing in here, then, to cause all that racket?” Said the governess, clearly upset. “There isn’t even a radio in here! I was WORRIED, young lady”. Zava’s mounting indignation and fears started to deflate… had she been that noisy? I probably was. It’s Ms. Tangarife’s job to keep an eye on us, anyway. She bit her lip. The university payed the governesses of the many boarding houses, known as StuRen (Student Residences), around town (and the governors of the male boarding houses as well, to keep the student residences from being brought down by hard-partying college-goers, of which there was no shortage… she is only doing her job….she reminded herself, trying to put herself in Ms. Tangarife’s shoes.
“I told you, I was asleep... “I have VERY vivid dreams sometimes… I came late last night, and I had some drinks…” mumbled Zava. “been told that sometimes I talk in my sleep. Loudly.”, she ended, lamely what else can I say? Please go nooooww!
“I always say, drinking age should be 21 in this state!” grumbled Ms. Tangarife, but the policewoman offered no support. She clearly thought this was a waste of time. Tiredly, she turned to Zava.
“Ms….”
“Casafus” offered the governess, irksomely, before Zava could speak for herself.
The new police code specifies a fine of up to 300 lukass for a noise nuisance offence, if a First Verbal Complaint is unheeded”. Said the Patroller, turning to the governess. Ms. Tangarife. do you formally issue First Complaint?”
“I do” said the older woman.
“You have been advised, then, Ms. Casafus. Please keep the peace”. With a curt nod, the policewoman strode out of the room. A few instants later, relieved, Zava could hear the heavy Patroller boots clomping down the stairs. Infuriatingly, the governess did not follow the patroller out of the apartment. Zava turned to the other woman, who was standing now near the bed, arms also crossed in her chest.
“I was not born yesterday, Zava”. Said Ms. Tangarife, glaring at Zava. “There is SOMETHING going on here, and the fact that we did not find anything here only makes me MORE suspicious. Those groans, wails and moans were NOT made by someone sleeping”. Zava reddened, avoiding the woman’s gaze. “I do not know how you pulled it off, but I’ll be watching you closely now. I do NOT like being taken for a fool”. Then she started to galumph crossly towards the exit, before catching sight, again, of the crumpled yellow panties on the floor.
As the rest of the apartment was very tidy, there were no other offending articles on which the older woman could find fault with. Taking her pen out of her pocket, she kneeled to pick the panties with the tip and fling them on the chair, with the rest of last night’s attire. But before she did that, narrowing her eyes, she reached down and picked up with her fingers what looked like a tiny little combat boot. It was a most curious tan color, sporting even tiny shoelaces coming out from truly minuscule eyelets and a vaguely futuristic look. Even the sole thread was very detailed, and the material was unbelievably supple.
Catching sight of what the governess had picked up, Zava’s eyes widened and she barely held back a gasp. Mark’s shoes!!! Fuckfuckfuck Fuck!!!
The puzzled expression of the governess gave suddenly way to a flat mask. She stood up and faced the girl. Zava was now trembling… she did not know if to snatch the boot out of the older woman’s hand and then punch her lights out and drag her out of the apartment…. To make all Little People’s evidence disappear FAST! before the police came back with the SID… But she did not dare… she waited first for her reaction. They both stared at each other mutely for a few seconds. Zava could hear the patrol car outside start noisily, then leaving.
“I have NO idea where you put that doll, as I saw no sign of it anywhere., no, let me rephrase that”, Ms. Tangarife said, to Zava, who was looking at her uncomprehending. Giving a brief but meaningful look at Zava’s crotch, before looking up and rolling her eyes in exasperation.
“I do NOT want to know. Just make sure nothing breaks and stays inside, young lady, those things were NOT designed by THAT kind of playing. And try to keep your… frolicking … quieter from now on. SOME people like to sleep late on holidays”. Tossing the little shoe disgustedly on the bed, and without sparing another glance at the panties, still on the floor, the woman left. Zava followed her, mechanically.
As soon as the door was closed, Zava leaned on the door with her forehead and burst into laughter, echoed heartily from a tiny passenger on her hair.