Red snapped the suspended buckle onto her red stockings and straightened up. She smoothed the three inches of skirt she was wearing over her thighs and slid into her leather boots. Her breasts bulged under the tight lacy blouse she had squeezed into and readjusted to maximise the effect. She checked her basket and smiled at the contents. The chequered blanket went over the top and she tucked it in tightly.

She heard Wolf’s motorbike before he even turned into the street. He was early; she knew he would be.

They were off to meet a woman they had met on ‘’; a website for ‘adventurous’ couples. Red hadn’t been so keen to start with; she thought just the two of them was enough. But Wolf (Warren actually – he had decided to be Wolf when swinging) had threatened to leave and so she had capitulated.

She was very surprised to discover that she quite enjoyed the role-playing. She was a bit bored with being Little Red Ridinghood, but her red hair did lend itself to it. Maybe goldilocks next week and then he can be in a bear suit! Red chuckled at that thought as she opened the door to Warren.
‘Hello Warren,’ she said ‘um, I mean Wolf.’
Her boyfriend smiled down at her, his greying hair flipped back over his broad forehead. She looked at him with his wide side burns and long nose and thought, not for the first time, that he did look rather wolf-like.

‘So, who are we meeting tonight?’ he asked, checking the basket.
‘Someone called Bella. She seemed fine; a bit downtrodden.’
‘Just like we like them.’

Red got onto the back of Wolf’s bike. She knew her skirt was so short that the drivers behind her could see the red lace-and-leather underwear. She smiled a secret smile and slid closer to Wolf.

They arrived at the discrete club perfectly on time. No one lifted an eyebrow when they walked in; Mother Goose was at the Jukebox, Little Miss Muffet sat with her hands down the pants of Jacky Horner in a dark corner and Snow White danced slowly around a pole in the middle of the room.

They walked up to the bar and ordered drinks.
‘Big night I see,’ said Popeye the barman, eying the basket.

Ten minutes later the manager approached them with the news that Bella was not going to make it. She had phoned and said her sisters had insisted she look after their aging father tonight. Irritated they both finished their drinks and considered leaving.

It was then that she walked in. He was too perfect for them not to notice. Dressed in a flowering housedress with sensible shoes and a scarf over her head, she looked like destiny.

‘It’s Granny’ whispered Red, squirming on her seat. ‘No way!’
‘No shit Sherlock,’ answered Wolf, smoothing down his sideburns.
They smiled at each other. ‘Let’s go.’

It took all of ten minutes for Red, Wolf and Granny to leave the bar. They walked up to Granny’s flat, not far from the fetish bar. Red unpacked her basket and Granny blanched. ‘I am not so sure about all that leather,’ she said. ‘And whips are not my thing really.’

Wolf leapt on her as she tried to reach the door.
‘Too late you old hag’ he growled at her as he and Red tied her to the bed. Her screams were halted by a gingham cloth thrust into her mouth.

Three hours later, satiated and drenched with sweat, Red removed the rag from the woman’s mouth.
“Oh shit. I think she is not breathing.’
‘What? No no no. This is never the plan.’
‘Well it’s happened. What are we going to do?’

Red and Wolf tied the woman up, wrapped her in a blanket and shoved her into the cupboard. They sprinkled vanilla essence on her to halt the discovery of the body and wiped the room clean.

Six days later, Michelle, a newly brunette hairdressing assistant and her boyfriend Warren, a crew cut bleach blonde, watched with the rest of the onlookers as the corpse of the unknown woman was removed from the flat.

Little did they know that teethmarks tell an indelible story.