You visited St. Michael's Dagger again. It wasn't something you enjoyed, but it offered you your best leads. Vince had set up a room for you and the analyst. Few people knew it, that Vince's true name was Vinchenzo. Crime boss to the core, he also had a soft spot for Joe Pesci and took every opportunity to introduce himself as Cousin Vinny, regardless of any familial relations. That said, you had no clue of the origin for the name "Silver Dagger Dame," except her sex and profession. Despite the impression you got from Vince, you inferred that she had been in the employ of St. Michael's Dagger long before she became an analyst.
You walked down one of the numerous, elegantly fashioned corridors of St. Michael's when you came to #52. You knocked on the door and heard as she unlocked it for you. Expectantly, you waited for her to open it. Seconds later you became impatient and opened the door. Standing inside was a sultry, sumptuous blonde dressed in a black leathered, form-fitting, dominatrix uniform. The condition of the whip in her hand (Worn) did not bode well for you.
"You've got to be kidding me..." Translation: What in the hell is this?
"Sorry Sugar." Translation: Get the hell inside!
"You actually intend on using the whip?" Translation: That thing is going to hurt like hell!
"Of course, I didn't just put this on to get comfy," Translation: Don't worry, after a while you'll numb out the pain eventually.
"I don't suppose I could just bribe you death?" Translation: .................
"Enough word games Sugar, I'm a busy woman and we've got business to attend to." She flung her whip, which wrapped around your neck with an almost choking embrace. Tugging hard, you were drawn into the room. So bewildered by the strength of this young maiden, you lost your ground and fell at her feet. Ready to kill her and be done with this mess, you couldn't help but eye her boot, imagining her toes inside and how cramped they be. Without really thinking you spoke your thoughts aloud, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable without those tight boots on?"
"Hmm, I didn't take you for a foot guy." She pressed the sole of her boot forcefully into your cheek, flattening your face to the side underneath her sole, "I guess we could fit that into our schedule."
She leaned over and closed the door to the room.
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*Cough, cough* Ahem... well, it would appear as though you will be getting your information... whether you want it or not. Mission success? You be the judge.
I guess sequel to this event would be "Information and Sadism," It may well be.