Veta hummed to herself as she arranged the pies on the tables throughout the hotel suite. Her short blonde hair was tucked behind her ears, and her green eyes sparkled with satisfaction at her handiwork. Each pie was a masterpiece--fourteen inches wide with Italian meringue piled six inches high, so dense and sticky that it reminded her of marshmallow cream but far more adhesive.

The silver silk robe she wore whispered against her skin as she moved. It was tied with a matching sash at her narrow waist, but open nearly to her navel, revealing generous cleavage and the inner curves of her large, round breasts. The hem barely covered her round, firm bottom, and she was acutely aware of wearing nothing else beneath the smooth fabric. She didn't mind--in fact, she rather enjoyed the freedom and the slight exhibitionist thrill.

Veta leaned over one particularly perfect pie, inhaling the heavenly scent of sweet vanilla with hints of lemon. She dipped one finger into the edge of the meringue, testing its consistency. As she pulled her finger away, the meringue stretched in a thick, gooey strand, clinging stubbornly to her skin. She laughed softly--exactly the consistency she wanted. The texture was perfect--like nothing most people had ever experienced, dense as white chocolate ganache but stretchier, more tenacious.

When the door clicked open behind her, Veta didn't immediately turn around. "I'll be done setting up in ten minutes," she called, assuming it was the event coordinator.

"Excuse me," came a smooth, confident voice that definitely didn't belong to the coordinator.

Veta turned and found herself facing the most striking woman she'd ever seen. Tall, with dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, piercing brown eyes, and high cheekbones, the woman had an authoritative presence that made Veta's heart skip a beat.

"Can I help you?" Veta asked, suddenly aware of how exposed she was in her silk robe.

The dark-haired woman smiled, a badge appearing in her hand. "Detective Isabella Reyes. I'm investigating a matter in the hotel." Her eyes swept slowly over Veta, lingering on the curve of her breasts visible through the open robe before traveling down to her bare legs.

Isabella had been called to the Majestic Hotel about a case, but stepping into this suite, she realized immediately she had the wrong room. What she hadn't expected was to find herself face to face with the most gorgeous woman she'd ever seen. The blonde's hourglass figure was barely contained in that flimsy silver robe, and Isabella's first instinct had been to turn around and leave. Her second instinct--the mischievous one that had gotten her into trouble all her life--was much more interesting.

"What's going on here?" Isabella asked, stepping further into the suite and closing the door behind her.

Veta's hand went to her robe, tugging it slightly closer. "I'm preparing for a dessert demonstration tomorrow. These are Italian meringue pies."

Isabella maintained her stern expression, though inside she was delighted by the nervousness in the blonde's green eyes. She moved closer to one of the tables, examining the pies with apparent suspicion.

"And you are?" Isabella asked, her voice taking on an official tone.

"Veta Collins. I'm the pastry chef hired for tomorrow's event." Veta shifted her weight, causing the silver fabric to shimmer over her curves. "I'm sorry, but why are you here? Is something wrong?"

Isabella picked up one of the heavy pies, feeling its substantial weight in her hands. The meringue was piled impossibly high, a pristine white mountain that looked impossibly tempting.

"I've received reports of suspicious substances being prepared in this hotel," Isabella improvised, moving around the table toward Veta. "I need to ask you some questions about these... pies."

Veta's eyes widened. "Suspicious substances? These are just meringues! Sugar, egg whites, and a specialized stabilizing formula I developed."

"A formula? Interesting." Isabella's eyes narrowed playfully, though she maintained her serious demeanor. "I'll need to know exactly what's in this formula, Ms. Collins."

Isabella watched as Veta's soft lips parted in surprise, a flush creeping up her neck to her cheeks. The silk robe had slipped slightly, exposing more of her chest. Isabella continued her approach, the pie still in her hands.

"It's just a combination of gelatin and corn syrup that allows the meringue to maintain its structure longer," Veta explained, taking a small step backward. "It's completely harmless."

"I'll be the judge of that," Isabella replied, now standing just a few feet from Veta. "This seems unusually dense for a meringue." She poked at the pie with one finger, watching as it clung desperately to her skin when she pulled away, stretching in a long, sticky strand.

Veta nodded, her eyes darting between Isabella's face and the pie in her hands. "That's the point. It's a special dense Italian meringue. The viscosity is part of what makes it unique."

Isabella took another step closer. "And why are you preparing these in such... unconventional attire?"

Veta's hand went to her robe again, her cheeks flushing deeper. "I... I was in my room next door and just came in to set up. I didn't expect anyone to come in."

"Convenient," Isabella said, not bothering to hide her appreciation of Veta's figure now. "I'm going to need you to tell me more about your ingredients. In detail."

For the next twenty minutes, Isabella "interrogated" Veta about the pies, watching with increasing delight as the beautiful blonde became more flustered. The robe slipped further down one shoulder, revealing the curve of one full breast. Veta kept trying to adjust it, but somehow Isabella's questions always distracted her at the perfect moment.

"So this stabilizing agent," Isabella said, still holding the pie, "you claim it's proprietary?"

"Yes," Veta answered, now backed against the edge of one table. She was beginning to suspect this wasn't a real investigation, especially given the way the detective's eyes kept tracing her body. There was something about the dark-haired woman's intensity that made Veta's skin tingle. Despite her nervousness, she found herself playing along, enjoying the tension.

"I think I need to test it," Isabella said, her voice dropping lower as she stepped even closer to Veta.

"Test it?" Veta's eyes fixed on the pie in Isabella's hands.

"Yes. For consistency." Isabella was now so close that Veta could smell her perfume, something woody and expensive.

Veta swallowed hard. The robe was barely staying closed now, and the sash had loosened enough that one good tug would undo it completely. Part of her--the exhibitionist part--almost wanted that to happen.

"I assure you, Detective, everything here is exactly as it appears," Veta said, her voice slightly breathless.

"I don't think so," Isabella replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think you're hiding something."

In one smooth motion, Isabella reached out and tugged the sash of Veta's robe. The silver silk parted, fully exposing Veta's naked body. Her large, firm breasts, narrow waist, and the soft blonde curls between her legs were suddenly on display.

Veta gasped, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but it was too late. The momentary distraction was all Isabella needed.

"Let me have a closer look at this meringue," Isabella said, and with perfect aim, she pushed the enormous pie directly into Veta's face.

The meringue engulfed Veta's entire head in an explosion of white. The thick, dense topping clung to her face, hair, and neck in stubborn globs. As the heavy pie tin fell away, Veta stood there, completely naked, her face and head transformed into a white, sticky mask of meringue, with thick trails of it sliding down her neck and onto her breasts.

Isabella burst into laughter, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Veta reached up with both hands, trying to clear enough meringue from her eyes to see. When she finally managed to blink through the sticky substance, she found Isabella staring at her with unmistakable desire.

"Oh my god," Isabella breathed, barely containing her laughter. "You look absolutely ridiculous. And incredibly hot."

Veta stood there, naked and pied, the meringue refusing to release its hold on her skin. Her face was completely covered, with only her green eyes and the hint of her soft lips visible through the white mask. Thick globs of meringue clung to her hair, making it stand up in sticky peaks. Trails of the sweet substance had started migrating down her body, coating her shoulders and the upper slopes of her breasts in glistening white.

Instead of anger, Veta felt a surprising wave of arousal wash over her. The sensation of the cool, dense meringue against her skin, combined with being completely exposed before this gorgeous, fully-clothed woman, sent a thrill through her body that she hadn't anticipated.

"Was that really necessary?" Veta asked, but a smile played at the edges of her meringue-covered lips.

"Absolutely," Isabella replied, picking up another pie from the nearest table. "But my investigation isn't complete."

Veta's eyes widened as she saw the second pie in Isabella's hands. "Wait, seriously? One pie isn't enough?"

"Not nearly," Isabella said, approaching again. "The first test was for texture. Now I need to test... adherence properties."

Veta backed away, laughing despite herself. The meringue on her face stretched and pulled with her expressions, making it impossible to look serious. "I don't think that's necessary, Detective."

"Oh, but it is," Isabella insisted, her eyes roaming over Veta's naked body, now decorated with dripping trails of meringue. "Consider it... a thorough investigation."

"You're enjoying this way too much," Veta said, still backing away but making no real effort to escape or cover herself. The exhibitionist in her was thriving under Isabella's appreciative gaze. "I'm starting to think you're not a real detective."

Isabella's smile widened. "Smart as well as beautiful. Maybe I just saw an opportunity I couldn't resist."

"You're terrible," Veta said, but her voice was playful. She gestured to her meringue-covered face and naked body. "Look what you've done to me! This stuff is practically glue. It's not coming off without a hot shower."

"That sounds like an excellent next step in our evening," Isabella suggested, still advancing with the second pie. "But first..."

Veta held up her hands in mock surrender, meringue dripping from her fingers. "Wait! At least tell me your real name before you pie me again."

"It is Isabella," she admitted. "I really am a detective, just not here on official business. Wrong room, right woman."

"Smooth," Veta said, feeling the edge of a table against her back. She was trapped now, naked and already partially covered in sticky meringue, facing a gorgeous woman holding another massive pie. "You know, most people just ask for a phone number."

"I'm not most people," Isabella replied, now close enough that Veta could feel the heat from her body. "And you're enjoying this more than you're admitting."

It was true. Veta's skin was flushed not just from embarrassment but from arousal. The contrast between her nakedness and Isabella's fully clothed state, the sweet smell of the meringue, the stickiness against her skin--it was all incredibly erotic in a way she hadn't expected.

"Maybe," Veta conceded, licking a bit of meringue from her lips. It tasted as good as it smelled, sweet vanilla with that hint of lemon. "But if you're going to pie me again, you should at least take off your jacket. It looks expensive."

Isabella considered this for a moment, then set the pie down on the table. Without breaking eye contact, she shrugged off her tailored jacket and placed it carefully on a chair.

"Better?" she asked, picking up the pie again.

"Getting there," Veta replied, her confidence growing despite her vulnerable position. "But if you're going to make such a mess of me, I think it's only fair you join me."

Isabella laughed. "Nice try. But I'm the one asking the questions here." She moved closer, the pie held at chest level. "So tell me, Veta, do you often prepare pastries while nearly naked?"

"Only on special occasions," Veta answered, her smile visible even through the meringue mask. "Though I'm fully naked now, thanks to you."

"You're welcome," Isabella said, her eyes traveling appreciatively over Veta's body again. "Last question before I conclude my investigation: Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?"

Veta's laughter bubbled up, causing more meringue to slip down her neck. "Are you seriously asking me out while I'm standing here naked and covered in pie?"

"Is that a yes?" Isabella pressed, the pie inching closer.

"Yes," Veta said, her green eyes sparkling through the meringue mask. "But only if you promise not to throw food at me in the restaurant."

"I make no promises about after dinner," Isabella replied, and then, with theatrical slowness, she pushed the second pie directly into Veta's face.

This time, Veta was ready for it. She took the pie full in the face, feeling the cool, dense meringue engulf her head once again. The heavy mass clung to her hair and the remains of the first pie, creating an even thicker layer. Meringue flew in all directions upon impact, splattering across her breasts, shoulders, and even reaching her stomach and thighs.

When Isabella pulled away the empty tin, she found herself facing a woman completely transformed by meringue. Veta's entire head was now a massive, sticky white blob, with her green eyes blinking through what looked like a thick white helmet. Her naked body was splattered with white gobs of meringue that clung tenaciously to her skin, highlighting rather than hiding her curves.

Isabella couldn't contain her delight. The contrast between the pristine white meringue and Veta's flushed skin was incredibly erotic. She watched as Veta tried to wipe away enough meringue to see properly, only managing to spread it around more.

"You realize," Veta said through her sweet mask, "that I'm going to need help getting clean."

Isabella stepped closer, reaching out to wipe a bit of meringue from Veta's eye. "I thought you'd never ask."

Veta caught Isabella's hand, pulling her closer until their bodies were almost touching. "This is the strangest way I've ever met someone," she said, leaving a trail of meringue on Isabella's silk blouse.

"But memorable," Isabella replied, not caring about the mess anymore. Her focus was entirely on the beautiful, meringue-covered woman before her, whose nakedness and good humor had completely captivated her.

"Very," Veta agreed, and with that, she pulled Isabella into a sticky, sweet kiss that tasted of lemon, vanilla, and the promise of something even more delicious to come.