Franziska's Memoirs

 

Chapter Warnings:

M/F, BDSM, Dom, Voy

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The investigation was a disaster. The evidence that was left behind and the witness accounts all pointed to one conclusion: this murder could not possibly have taken place. And yet it did. Nothing added up, not one shred of evidence made sense. And worst of all, the only eyewitness, the world's most foolishly annoying fool of a clown, claimed to have seen the suspect simply up and fly away from the scene of the crime. She was certain that she had whipped him one too many times and driven him mad, but that was his story.

The next day in court, Franziska began to feel like her life was a circus. She had pieced together the situation as best anyone could, but a case like this was a test of her sanity. She tried everything in her power to push the trial away from the foolish clown's foolish testimony, but naturally that foolishly foolish king of fools, Phoenix Wright, managed to weasel his way past every other explanation. As the clown took the stand, she braced herself for impending doom.



The clown's explanation did not go over well with the court. After all, everyone knows human beings can't simply fly away from a crime scene. The foolish clown's foolish account made her entire investigation look foolish. At the very least, his statements confused the judge enough to grant another trial day.



Franziska von Karma was perfect. She was simply perfect. And she would not be losing this trial. There was absolutely no way. She returned to the circus to investigate every loose end, every nook and cranny. She wracked her brain to come up with some possible explanation as to how on earth that foolish clown could have possibly seen such a thing.



And she was getting nowhere.



She took a glance at her Scruffytracker™ to find him lingering at the crime scene. Livid, she marched there to scold him for wasting time. When she arrived, though, she found him talking to that foolish fool, Wright!



She whipped him into a paste and left him in a heap in the snow. He was playing dead, most likely, but she had a few choice words for Wright. She let him have it, but the fool had the nerve to foolishly mention that beating him in court wouldn't bring back her papa. As if that was even what this was about. He would see. She needn't dignify that with a response. Besides, he was to blame for her brother's disappearance. What right did he have to judge her?



When she had sufficiently chewed out the foolish lawyer, and sufficiently ogled his cute little assistant, she took Scruffy by the ear and dragged him behind the housing space. She forced him against the wall, and he fell into a sitting position with his back against it. She gave him the lecture of a lifetime, punctuating her sentences with a crack of her whip. Kneeling down in the snow, grimacing as her pantyhose grew wet and began to cling to her, she shot him a scowl that could melt a glacier. Her left hand flew back to slap him, but it hesitated, hanging in the air for what Scruffy must have perceived as an eternity. Ultimately, she balled his collar into her fist and pulled him towards her, forcing their lips together. She hurriedly opened her jacket and pulled her lacy blue bra over her breasts, giving Scruffy his first look at their flawless, pale form. The cold winter air that assaulted them sent shivers throughout her, turning her nipples a bright pink and making them fully erect in seconds.



She was in no mood for foreplay, and as she pushed aside her panties and lowered herself onto his stiffening manhood, she saw in her peripheral vision a glimpse of Wright's topknotted assistant peeking around the side of the housing unit. When she was sure Wright himself was nowhere to be seen, she looked over at the girl and winked. The young medium blushed furiously and scurried off.



As she continued bouncing onto Scruffy's length, she imagined what the girl had seen; the proud prosecutor Franziska von Karma, boobs out, exhaling heavily, sitting in Gumshoe's lap, completely unashamed. She laughed to herself, shaking her head, and made a mental note to make personally sure that the girl spoke a word of this to no one.



Mr. Scruffy Detective was arousing to her on so many levels. For his huge stature, he was so meek and so easily dominated. His rugged, unsophisticated appearance was also an odd turn-on; there was something about the union of a goddess and an everyman that reminded her of her unparalleled pornography collection and really got her fired up. And then there was her utter contempt for the man, which made this whole tryst that much more taboo, and that much more appetizing. Sex and aggression are so closely linked, after all.



She took her frustrations out on the poor man in the worst way, grinding against his manhood with such frenzy that wild animals would have been jealous. She clawed his dress shirt open, ruining a second set of buttons, and ran her fingers through his chest fur. In the heat of the moment, a compliment somehow left her lips, and she couldn't silence herself before she blurted out that he should seek a job in the field of pornography.



She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and saw a small smile pierce Scruffy's foolish face. Livid, she slapped him hard across the face, making his cheek as red as her own and snapping his expression straight back to the realm of horror. Without slowing her hip gyrations in any way, she took his lapels between her clenched fists and pulled him towards her, pressing their foreheads together. She stared into his soul, baring her teeth, wearing a face that would put the fear of God into anyone, and made it abundantly clear that no such compliment was ever paid. Horrified, Scruffy nodded at a mile a minute, whimpering like the scared puppy that he was.



It felt so good to be in control.



In no time, Scruffy meekly began the question of where to empty himself. Franziska rolled her eyes and interrupted him after just three words, ordering him to fill her up and to never again think of asking such a foolish question. She was facing him this time, and got to savor the grimace he made as he unloaded inside of her. It was truly delicious; his face was bright crimson from the triple threat of the cold winter air, the after-effects of her slap, and his own climax. His eyes were closed and his upper lip curled, showing his top row of teeth. It was not at all an attractive expression, but to Franziska it was evidence that she had brought a man to his weakest point. She drank it up, and as she felt his warm seed grow cold as it spilled out of her, she could feel her own release approaching. She attacked his thick neck with kisses, digging her long fingernails into his shoulder.



Two of her fingers snaked beneath her panties to help her along, pinching and prodding her erect clitoris. When she did finish, her whole body shaking slightly, she touched her shoulders to her neck and rest her chin on Scruffy's broad shoulder.



She stood up, buttoning her shirt and adjusting her panties, and kicked snow at him, ordering him to get back to work. She collected her whip and stormed off, smiling once her back was turned. She loved carrying part of a man with her.



From there out, she was all business. She had a case to save.